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American writer, bookworm, cosplayer, bookbinder, seamstress, dock worker, and full ass adult. I try to tag nsfw but beware. My Blogs
another reminder that what you put in your public bookmarks on ao3 is public, meaning anybody can see them, including the authors.
all of this. heavy on âthe fastest way to discourage fandom writers is by rating/assigning numerical value to fanficsâ. also the âbut donât you want to get better?â argument is so exhausting to me. because if us fanfic writers want to âget betterâ at our hobbies, the things we do out of love, and if we want constructive criticism, we will either directly ask for it (so if we didnât ask, keep your opinion to yourself) or we will go to our trusted friends, whose opinions we actually value, for their feedbacks.
because more often than not, the unsolicited constructive criticism random strangers give us isnât even constructive criticism but what these people personally want to read. so hereâs the thing, us fanfic writers write for ourselves first and foremost. we appreciate people who read our works and show us support, but weâre writing and sharing our works for free â itâs our hobby and passion, our source of comfort, something we do as a form of self care, itâs not a job we are paid to do â so weâre not writing to please anybody but ourselves.
you donât go up to a stranger you see in public, tell them what you dislike about their clothes and how they can âdress betterâ then defend your actions by claiming you âhave the rights to criticize their clothing because they are in publicâ.
if you like our fics, cool. if you donât like them, thatâs fine. you can find something else to read. or, better yet, you can WRITE THE THING YOU WANT TO READ YOURSELF, nobody is stopping you. but keep your unsolicited criticism to yourself if we didnât ask for one.
Danny's been High King for years now. More than half his life. His parents? Reformed. His arch nemesis? Retired. The GIW? Still there, but not much of a threat anymore. Until someone got a lucky shot with a brand new, and extra nasty weapon that left Danny fighting not to just retreat into his core.
Good thing Frostbite told him about a way to condense himself to save energy and heal. Sure, making himself shrink is a little weird, but as long as it gets the job done, right? A quick portal jump and he'll be home and can just rest and relax until he's strong enough to go back to normal.
...Maybe he jumped a little too far. Because he's never heard of this Gotham place, and who the heck is Batman? Wait, they've got superheros here?! (And they're cute. Oh no.)
---
Okay, so Danny had absolutely agreed to the date. He wanted to go, and was excited to go! A trip away from the manor that (hopefully) wouldn't involve weirdos dressed like penguins breaking in to mess things up. A dinner with two absolutely sexy men who, somehow, thought he was dating material.
And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? He couldn't even imagine what they saw in him! Especially right now, some rat sized freeloader. So he was more than a little nervous!
Standing in front of the vanity mirror, he found himself wishing he'd accepted Alfred's offer of nicer clothes. Even if he didn't realistically think that anyone human could make something good with so little warning. When Bruce had brought up a dinner date earlier on, he hadn't thought he meant right away!
"I do believe, Mister Danny, that your gentlemen will be pleased with your appearance as it is."
Danny didn't jump. If anyone asked, he'd deny it, and Alfred didn't seem the type to blab embarrassing details. Not, of course, that there were any to be blabbed about.
He ran his fingers through his hair one more time before turning around to face the old butler with a nervous smile. "Sorry. It's just been a while since I've been on a date. Least, one I cared about." He rubbed the back of his neck, seeing the other's raised eyebrow. "Been on a few set up by other people for me. Not really blind dates, but not people I really knew. And none of them ever went anywhere."
The position of ghost king was, of course, not a hereditary one. So there was no need to marry and have kids like if he'd been royal in the more human sense. But that didn't stop people from shoving potential partners his way from time to time to get that 'in' with the royal family. Something he was very much not interested in.
Bruce and Clark didn't know he was king. Which made why they liked him so much all the more confusing. But he was glad they did.
"You don't think this is all too fast, do you?" he asked, looking up at him.
Alfred's expression was fond as he laid his hand out on the vanity. "I think, Mister Danny, that you are used to doubting yourself. But if you have changed your mind, I can deliver the news-"
"No!" Danny blurted. He didn't want that!
"Then, perhaps everything is just as it should be."
Danny found himself nodding automatically to the familiar phrasing before he even realized. No, there were no signs that Alfred had any connection to the Ancient of Time. He would have noticed his involvement by now if he'd been nosing his way in. Right?
He shook his head. "I think I'm ready."
Alfred nodded and held his hand still for Danny to step onto, his fingers curving ever so slightly to cup around him. "Very well. I believe the others will be waiting for you downstairs."
Sitting down on his hand, Danny nodded and told his stomach to settle down as he was carried from the room. Technically, he could have absolutely flown himself. Sure, he'd worn himself out earlier with the game of tag he'd played with Clark, but then he'd had the coziest of naps, so he was well rested again! But... well. He'd picked up on the fact that pretty much everyone in the household liked getting to carry him around. So he could put up with it, to an extent. Plus, it was hard to say no to Alfred.
The elderly man brought Danny down the stairs to the entrance hall where Bruce and Clark did indeed stand waiting. And fuck, but they made a pretty pair.
"One spirited young man, as promised," Alfred said, walking up to them and waiting for Danny to climb from his hands to Bruce's. "The car is waiting and ready outside."
"I assume you will be driving?" Clark asked. He glanced between Bruce and Danny, and the ghost was pleased to see that he wasn't the only one who looked a bit flustered.
"Of course."
"Right, of course," Clark said, his cheeks pink. As if Alfred would let anyone drive his adopted son around unless there were specific circumstances. The alien cleared his throat and turned more of his attention to Danny. "You look nice."
Danny absolutely knew he was blushing with them both looking at him. He looked away as he sat down for better balance. At least that was his excuse. "Thanks. You too. Sorry I didn't dress up. Don't really have a lot of clothes."
"You look lovely as you are," Bruce assured him with a smile, curving his hand to touch a finger to his shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"
Was he ready? Hell no he wasn't ready! What if he messed up? What if they decided that no, they really didn't need a third. But he didn't want them to think he was doubting them, so pushed all of that down in order to give them a grin. "Ready as I will be. Have a plan for getting me in there all sneaky like?"
Bruce was clearly holding back a smile as he nodded. "It isn't many parts. We'll take one of the lower key cars, come up to the building from the back, and you'll hide in a pocket until we're safely inside. The car windows are shaded, but not entirely opaque. I've already asked the owner to see that any windows that can see our seating be covered in advance. Sophie said that she'll be overseeing everything personally." He looked down at Danny. "If you prefer to stay out of sight when she's in the room, I can ask her to warn us before entering so you can hide."
"That might be kind of awkward," Danny said, chewing on his lip. On one hand, there was letting yet another person see him. On the other, he'd be close to the other two, Bruce obviously trusted the lady, and so far he'd had a pretty decent run of luck when it came to people there laying eyes on him. Penguin didn't count. He was already robbing the place. "No, I think it'll be fine. Long as it's just the one person."
"The only other people who will be there will be her husband and daughter, and they should stay in the kitchen," Bruce assured him. "So the final question is, whose pocket would you prefer?"
A snicker slipped out that Danny didn't even try to hold back. "That has to be one of the weirdest questions I've ever been asked. You know that, right?" Judging from their smiles, yes, they absolutely did know. "Gonna pick purely based on which one looks like it'd be more comfortable, not because I'm showing more favor either way, okay?"
"Perhaps, gentlemen, a decision can be made once we reach the car, if we are to arrive on time," Alfred said, giving them a nudge as he opened the door for the group.
"Sorry, Alfred," Clark said sheepishly, ducking his head as he stepped out past him. Bruce, on the other hand, merely followed them out with a soft chuckle at the other man.
As for Danny, he was making a study of both men as they walked. Specifically, how tightly their suit jackets clung to each of them as they moved. And not even for horny reasons! (Though it was hard to deny the very horny thoughts that ran through his head in the process.) He wanted to figure out which pocket would be less likely to squeeze him in tight.
Both of them were built, more muscled and bulkier than he'd ever be. (He was not complaining.) But, between them, Clark was bigger. Both in height and breadth. However, it also looked like there was more room built into the suit. Especially as they climbed into the car, Bruce's pulling snug against him. Pleasing to the eye, but maybe not the most comfortable to be inside. (Inside the pocket!) Which made the choice a pretty clear one.
Danny was released to float out of the way while they buckled themselves in, and admittedly had to tear his eyes away from well fitted suits to look at their faces. Their somewhat smug faces.
"I'll ride with Clark this time," he said, pointedly ignoring that and absolutely not blushing all over again. "Think I'd get squashed flat with you, Bruce."
"Maybe next time," Bruce said, surrendering without a fuss.
Clark smiled as he held his pocket open with two fingers, waiting for Danny to fly to him. "You could wear one of mine next time. There'd be plenty of room then."
Bruce raised an eyebrow before his lips curled into a smirk. "Looking to get me into your clothes already, Kent? On our first date too. Scandalous."
"Weren't you just both inviting me in just a moment ago? And seeing as I'm currently in Clark's clothes, I think I beat you to it," Danny quipped as he dropped himself into the pocket, folding his arms over the top edge so he could keep looking out. "So good thing I've never cared about my reputation."
He knew he'd said the right thing when Clark burst out with a laugh. "I think he has us both there."
"Of course I do. I'll have you know that back home I am considered the absolute king when it comes to banter." King when it came to a few other things too, but that was a different matter for future Danny to deal with.
"No wonder you got along so well with Lois." Clark reached a finger down to ruffle his hair with a fingertip.
"And Dick," Bruce agreed. He had a fond look on his face as he leaned back into his seat, the car starting down the (ridiculously) long driveway.
"Face it, all your family likes me. Because I'm freaking adorable." Danny flashed them a grin and then proceeded to duck down into the darkness of the pocket so Clark could let go of his jacket. Before they passed the gates and got where there might be someone looking at just the wrong moment.
"Are we sure that he isn't an imp?" Bruce asked from the other side of the fabric wall, and the whole of the pocket shifted with Clark's responding shrug.
As he settled in for the ride, Danny could admit that maybe, just maybe, pocket riding wasn't as bad as he'd thought it might be. It was warm, and maybe a little stuffy, but that was the advantage to not needing to breathe. And the feeling of Clark's giant heart beating so close by... it was nice. The other two made light conversation outside, through which he learned that the reason Bruce knew about the restaurant was that his father had saved it from falling under a loan shark back when the owner's parents had run into financial issues decades before. Which sounded like such a rich philanthropist thing to do. Something Sam would probably do once her parents kicked it.
Too bad they weren't around for him to meet. Bruce's parents, not Sam's. He'd met them more than enough.
The ride wasn't an extremely long one, thankfully not long enough to lull him to sleep, but it was still a relief when he felt the car come to a stop, Alfred announcing that he had arrived and the door opening. A light weight settled over Danny's pocket as the whole thing shifted, Clark climbing out of the car with a protective hand over him.
"I shall remain in the neighborhood should an extraction be needed," Alfred said outside the pocket.
"Thank you, Alfred. If anything comes up-"
"Master Bruce, if anything occurs, I am sure the children are quite capable of handling it," the older man said firmly. "Enjoy your dinner."
"I'll know if they need help," Clark murmured quietly to the other man, Danny's ghost hearing just picking it up. Just like he heard the opening of a door and the new voice that spoke up.
"Bruce, welcome! It's been too long since you've come to visit. Come in and introduce me to your handsome man." The woman's voice carried a strong Greek accent that reminded Danny of Pandora and some of the ghosts he'd met in her territory.
"Sophie, this is Clark," Bruce said, a smile in his voice. "Clark, Sophie. Try not to stuff him until he explodes. His mother would be very upset with me."
The woman, Sophie, scoffed. "Please. It looks like this one at least gets enough to eat. Nice and big, like he should be. Unlike you. Clark, you tell your mother she's done very well by you. Is your family Greek?"
Clark chuckled self-consciously to the sound of chairs being pulled out and settled into. "Afraid not. Kansas born and raised half a dozen generations back. But Ma and Pa are farmers. Can't say they've seen an empty plate they've liked."
"Good. You should set her on that Alfred. Now, what was all this secret fuss about?" she asked. "You wouldn't roll out the fancy paperwork just to keep the press away from a date."
"Yes and no," Bruce said. "A date, yes, but not Clark. Well, not just Clark."
"Play word games with me, Bruce, and I will have Alphonso burn your appetizers. Don't think I won't."
"No need for that. We just have a third person dining with us. He's the one it's most important to keep secret. Clark?"
Danny took a deep breath as Clark's jacket was opened and a large hand dipped into the pocket for him. He wrapped his arms around the fingers and closed his eyes to let them adjust to the light as he was pulled out. There was a catch of breath as he was set down on the table between Bruce and Clark. Opening his eyes once more, he looked up to the staring proprietress, giving her a little wave when she didn't move. "Hello."
It took her a minute before she so much as blinked, inhaling slowly and giving Bruce a sharp glance. "Bruce, you did not tell me that you were bringing one of the dactyls."
The what? Danny spun the name around in his head. Something Clockwork or Pandora had mentioned, maybe? A kind of little spirit or whatnot maybe? Either way, nothing to do with him! Danny shook his head, waving his hands. "Oh no, it's nothing like that. This is just temporary."
"Danny's meta," Bruce explained, bringing his hand close to hover protectively around Danny's back. He'd been set down between them, well within reach of both. "And the three of us are seeing each other. It's new. Of course I couldn't think of anywhere better for a first date than here."
The older woman was silent for a moment, looking back and forth between the three men before fixing her eyes on Danny once more with pursed lips. He offered a smile up at her, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. At last, she turned a disapproving eye on Bruce. "Hm. That's one wise choice you've made, since you clearly aren't feeding him enough. He's even skinnier than you."
"To be fair, he hasn't been at the manor for long," Bruce defended lightly, a small smile on his lips. "But I'm sure that you'll make your best effort to correct that."
"Who do you think I am? Of course I will," Sophie said with mock offense. Grabbing a set of menus, she handed them out, pointedly laying one open on the table in front of Danny. "Danny, yes? Decide what you want and we'll whip up something special for you. I may not have been prepared to cook for someone your statureâ" She gave Bruce another look. "âbut that doesn't mean we're not up to the challenge."
Danny was proud of himself for not jerking or going invisible when she came so close without warning, even if his heart gave a little jump. Instead, he craned his head back to look up at her, nodding. "Will do. Thanks."
"Good. Now, look that over while I fetch the wine."
"Alfred sent these to help," Bruce said, handing her a small box before she could sweep off to the kitchen. Which she eyeballed before taking along with her.
"Doing alright?" Clark asked, looking down at Danny with a smile.
The ghost nodded, drawing in a breath to let go of the last of the tension. "Yeah, I'm fine. Think getting used to so many people in the manor's helping. What was in the box though?"
"Dishes. Alfred reminded me that they wouldn't have something your scale here without advance warning," Bruce explained. He leaned his head on a hand, looking at the other two. "It wouldn't be a good date if you had to eat out of scrounged objects or off the edge of someone's plate."
"I've probably been on worse," Danny said idly, stepping up onto the menu that'd been laid out for him for a better view. "In fact, I know I've been on worse."
"I think we're trying to break the record in the other direction."
"Somehow, I don't think that's going to be much of a challenge," Danny said with a snicker, strolling about as he considered the options, trying to imagine what would be actually possible to downsize. Nothing stuffed, that was for sure. Glancing up at them, he flashed a grin. "But I didn't think you were supposed to talk about other dates you'd been on when dating someone new."
"That one seems to be on you this time," Clark pointed out, leaning his elbow against the table, head resting against a hand. His Ma would have scolded him for bad table manners, but she'd never had to negotiate talking to someone who could fit in the palm of her hand. And he didn't want to loom. "But how about you tell us about you instead, then?"
"Don't know if there really that much to say." Other than the fact that he was a ghost, high king of the Realms, and had been tap dancing on the edge between life and death since he'd been fourteen. Which, even if he was ready to come out with that, it was so not cozy date chatter. Especially not in a restaurant where the owner could come back out at any moment. "Grew up in the town I was born in, nuclear family, got a high school diploma but never went to college."
Somehow, Bruce managed to convey his disbelief in that being everything there was to be said with a single lift of an eyebrow, making Danny squirm in place.
Clark, thankfully, showed mercy on him. "I was something of a hometown boy before I went to university too," he said. "I wasn't born there, but I'll have to tell you that story later." Danny was quick to nod. He hadn't forgotten Clark saying he was an alien, after all! (How would anyone forget that?) "But I consider Smallville my hometown."
The tiny man snickered. "Smallville? It's really called that?"
"It's Kansas," Clark said with a 'what can you do' kind of smile. "Just a little farming town. Too small for even a community college. But it has its charms. You'll have to visit at some point. Ma and Pa would probably love you on sight."
"I suppose I shouldn't make fun of it too much. My Aunt Alicia lives in a place called Spittoon. The sort that most people don't even have phones because they like it that way," Danny said, still grinning. Then something occurred to him. "Wait. You came from Smallville. And now you live in Metropolis. Which, if I remember my lessons right, literally means big city. You can't tell me that you didn't do that on purpose."
Clark blinked. "Actually... I don't think I ever noticed that." He glanced over at Bruce. "Did you?"
"Dick caught onto it as soon as you mentioned your hometown the first time," Bruce said, lips twitching as he tried to hide a smirk.
"At least it wasn't Tim or Damian..." Clark muttered with a little grimace. He didn't need it pointed out to his sons. Not with Jon at that age when poking fun at his father was among his favorite pastimes.
âYouâre just lucky Ellieâs grown up. She was vicious when she was a kid,â Danny said, making a face at the memory. Between Vlad and Samâs influences, sheâd gotten very good at picking at things. Usually to his detriment. âActually, still is, but she's usually on my side these days. Most of the time."
"Hope she hasn't been taking advantage of your size those other times," Bruce commented lightly.
"Oh, she absolutely would, but she hasn't seen me like this and I'm hoping to get back to my proper height before she inevitably tracks me down," Danny said with a snort. He hadn't sensed any ghosts other than the shades and the city spirit since he'd arrived, but that just meant that Ellie didn't know where he was. Yet. He paused when the other two men shared a concerned glance. "What?"
"How long have you been like this?" Clark asked delicately. "Small, we mean."
Danny rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. "About three weeks now? Wasn't that long before I ended up in Gotham."
The two caped heroes had to stop and process that. They'd all been picturing Danny as having been small like this for much longer, possibly years. So hearing otherwise completely shook up any timelines they'd been putting together. On one side, it was a relief that they could throw out the idea of his being held prisoner because he'd been too small to escape. On the other, it was easy to line up the new date estimation with another important one.
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Danny, the weapon you were shot with. Did it-"
His question got cut off by a pointed cough and a nudge from Clark, who was already looking up with a polite smile at the return of their hostess.
"Apologies for the wait. We had to find a dropper small enough for the wine, and make sure it was clean for you," Sophie said, pouring the two full sized glasses and a shot glass before producing the promised dropper to fill a tiny wine glass Danny's scale, obviously from the box that Alfred had sent. She set the dropper back into the shot, leaving it and the bottle on the table. Catching Danny's eye, she winked. "For your refills. Try not to drink it all now."
"Probably could," Danny countered with a little smile. He knew he could. Perks of being a halfa. His body burned through alcohol faster than it did stitches. "I have a pretty high tolerance."
"Try not to give yourself alcohol poisoning," Bruce said with a snort. "Damian would never forgive me."
"You'll never see me with so much as a hangover, scout's honor."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I have trouble picturing you ever being a scout."
"What, you think I couldn't do it?" Danny asked with a mock pout. He stared up into Bruce's unimpressed eyes for a moment before cracking. "Fine, fine, I wasn't. But I was a junior astronaut at space camp. Which, if you ask me, is ten times better than boy scouts would ever be."
Clark snickered, picking up his wine glass. "Don't let my old scout master hear you say that."
"You, I believe," Bruce said, a little smirk on his lips. He just shook his head when Clark's only response was a smile and a shrug. "Have you figured out what you want?"
Sophie disappeared back into the kitchen after they placed their orders. Bruce eyeballed the wine Danny was drinking, torn between worrying about dose tolerances at his size, and getting distracted by the relaxed smile their tiny third's face had settled into.
"You really don't need to worry about me drinking too much, Bruce," Danny said, evidently reading his face. "I metabolize it too fast to have any real effect. Never even been properly tipsy."
Clark nudged his shoulder. "Sounds like you're the only one we'll have to watch then, Bruce."
"Forgive me for being mortal," the Gotham knight snorted, taking a sip of his own glass. It was a little sweeter than he usually gravitated towards, but he suspected its selection had been more based on Sophie's assumptions about Danny's tastes than what she knew about his. Which was fine.
"Don't worry, we like you anyway," Danny assured him playfully. When Bruce wordlessly laid a hand on its side on the table, the tiny man shifted to lean into it. "So, what do you two do when you're not working, or working?"
The added inflection made it clear that he was referring to their caped activities. Bruce thought it over for a moment, letting Clark answer first.
"I like to read some," the Kryptonian said. "My birth parents left behind a lot of information about where they were from, and I like to study that to learn more. Otherwise, I spend time with the kids, or stop back at the farm to help out with the chores. Ma and Pa say they don't need me to, but they're not so young anymore. And we all like the chance to visit. I try baking sometimes, but... Well, when we were married, Lois and I ate a lot of takeout."
"So you're just as hopeless in the kitchen as I've heard Bruce here is, huh?" Danny teased. He wrapped an arm around one of Bruce's fingers, pulling it around himself in a way that made the older man's stomach flutter. "Any pets?"
"Not mine, but I get roped into dog sitting for Kara a lot." Clark eyed the small figure. "We should probably wait to introduce you to Krypto until you're bigger. He's a friendly dog, but I've had no luck training him, and you're kind of about the size of his chew toys. What about you?"
"Not really. Well, there's Cujo, but he's not technically mine. More like he decided that he likes me and pops up when and where he pleases." Danny's face was fond as he talked. "I think I've made a little headway on the training side, but... well, there's no controlling a dog like that. Still, he's a good boy."
"Don't tell Damian that. We already have two in the house," Bruce said, already clearly able to picture his youngest making it his mission to adopt Danny's dog as well.
The tiny man blinked. "You do? How come I haven't seen them?" He paused a moment. "You've been keeping them away from me, haven't you?"
"Like Clark said, you are currently the size of a chew toy," Bruce reminded him. He flexed his fingers to squeeze Danny's shoulders in demonstration. "Titus and Ace are well trained, but none of us want to risk it. They are, after all, still dogs."
"Eh, you might have a point there," Danny said with a grimace. "Though actually I think Damian mentioned Titus? He didn't specify he was a dog though, and it was kind of in the middle of scolding me for slipping out for a walk around without his knowing. Before I met you two. Makes sense though. Might be safe enough now that I can fly again?"
"Not with Krypto," Clark corrected.
Danny gave him a long stare. "He flies, doesn't he?"
Clark nodded. "And he's both fast, and fond of catching flying objects."
"Right, we'll keep that particular meet and greet on the back burner until later," Danny said with a firm nod. "I'll stick with animals that aren't likely to try and eat me for a bit. Same reason I stayed outside the fence when Damian introduced me to Jerry. Birds are mean."
Considering the trouble he'd reportedly had with an unpowered cat, Bruce wasn't surprised. He brushed a fingertip down Danny's arm, appreciating the subtle green flush of his cheeks in response. "If you want to meet Ace and Titus, we can do it slowly. Get them used to you. Though they may try to herd you. Ace especially."
"So, like Cujo," Danny concluded. "Hopefully they aren't as destructive when their favorite squeaky toy goes missing."
Clark raised an eyebrow. "I'm sensing a story there."
"Oh, you have no idea." Instead of answering, Danny turned in the curve of Bruce's hand to look up at him. "So, what do you do for fun? Noticed you didn't answer earlier."
"I don't tend to have a lot of free time," Bruce admitted. "Between work and other things, they keep me busy."
"Not so busy that you can't have hobbies," Danny said with a huff. "Even I have them. And when I'm not on what basically accounts to medical leave? I'm super busy."
"You'll have to tell us about what you do later," Bruce said, curious. "But to answer, I like reading when I have the free time, chess when I have someone to play with, and tinkering with engines. Sometimes, I enjoy cooking."
"He's not very good at it," Clark added, grinning when he got an unimpressed stare in return. "Sorry Bruce, but Alfred told me about the incident when you were officially banned from using his kitchen."
"Ooh, I'll need to ask him for that story eventually," Danny said, snickering. "So no yachting or trying to buy sports teams or anything like that? What about throwing big cocktail parties?"
Feeling vaguely put upon, Bruce sighed. "The yachts and the parties are part of my public persona. That doesn't mean I enjoy them." He looked down at the tiny man. "Buying sports teams?"
"Well, trying to. Vlad's been trying to buy his favorite team for years and they keep turning down his offers. Probably just on principle at this point." Danny shrugged. "I don't know. He and the Mansons were really the only rich people I knew growing up, and you're obviously nothing like them. And before you ask, that's a good thing. If it weren't for Granny Ida, I'd have to assume they adopted Sam because she's nothing like them either. Goth crow in a family of high nosed swans."
"Sounds like an interesting friend. You'll have to invite her to Gotham at some point," Bruce said. He leaned his cheek against his hand. "Your other friend-- Tucker? --is welcome too."
Something about the tone of the offer made Danny pause and look up at him, quickly caught up in dark blue eyes. He swallowed. "Yeah, maybe I will."
"Metropolis too," Clark added. "It may not be as appealing to the goth crowd, but it's a lovely city. You'll like it too." He flashed a smile. "Should probably introduce you to Ma and Pa before we start making plans to bring more people over to Smallville."
"Already planning to introduce me to the parents, huh?" Danny quipped, feeling the butterflies flutter about his stomach. The two hadn't said they would invite his friends. They'd said that he would. Making it sound like... like he'd be living here. And not just temporarily.
The longer he knew them, the more appeal that idea had. And it wasn't like he wouldn't be able to portal back to the Zone or Amity once he was all powered up. Assuming he wasn't reading too much into everything.
And then Clark's cheeks flushed pink and he started to sputter, Bruce laughing softly at the alien's expense, and the idea just settled into place. He wanted to stay.
"I hope you don't think we've been pushing things along too quickly," Clark pushed out in a rush once he got his tongue back in line. "Heaven knows I don't usually move this fast, and neither does Bruce when it's serious, but we like you a lot. I mean, I hope we made that clear from the start. And not just because you're cute! I mean, you are cute, and pretty, but also funny and-"
"What Clark means is that we would like you to stay," Bruce said, interrupting the ramble with a little smile. He flattened his hand, holding it steady so Danny could step into it. "Well after you've recovered. With us."
Danny swallowed, giving himself a moment while he settled on Bruce's hand, being lifted up to face height between them. Then, glancing at both of them, he smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."
Over his head, the two men met eyes before leaning in. And then both sides of his face were covered with warm, giant lips. He couldn't help but giggle, turning his head one way then the other in an attempt to kiss each of them back. Obviously, he was going to have to get back to normal soon just so he could kiss them properly!
-
The meals at Arkham were never anything to write home about, but there were some days that Joker thought were particularly bad, and he made a face at what was meant to be turkey gravy and mashed potatoes according to the weekly menu slapped onto his tray with a particularly unappealing splat.
"If this is meant to be a joke, it isn't a funny one," he said, frowning at the server. Who didn't even have the courtesy to react, staring at him with even less expression than Batsy when he was being particularly dull.
"Move along," the server said flatly. "Next!"
Joker sniffed. "No sense of humor."
Shaking his head, he spun on his heel before going for the empty seat between Riddler and Mad Hatter. At least they could appreciate when something was properly funny. Though they were missing someone.
"Say, didn't I hear that Ozzy was back?" he asked, scanning the room in search of his bird themed friend.
"What is black and blue and walks with four legs?" Riddler asked back, poking at the identical slop on his tray. "A bird that angered a bat and lost the fight."
It was about then that the cafeteria doors swung open and one of the guards, actually looking sympathetic for once, escorted Penguin inside. Joker's eyebrows climbed up towards his hairline at the sight. Or, more pointedly, at the crutches and amount of bandages the lounge runner was swaddled up in.
"What the hell happened to you?" he asked once the Penguin had hobbled his way over to sit across from them.
Penguin flinched, shifting back and forth in a futile attempt to find a comfortable way to sit on the hard bench in his condition. "Batman happened." He shuddered. "I thought he was going to kill me this time!"
"Batman doesn't kill," Hatter reminded him with a snort.
"He would have, if Signal hadn't called him off!"
"You must have really gotten under Batsy's skin this time then," Joker said before snickering. "I'm almost jealous. Don't you know that's my job?"
"You can keep it. I'll be staying right here where it's safe." He rubbed his throat with a grimace. "It's this new meta he's being protective of. Barely gave him a little tap and the Bat was on me like a feral dog."
Joker narrowed his eyes. "A meta, you say?"
"Obviously, unless Bats picked up another alien to pal around with. He was this tiny little thing, and I mean tiny," Penguin said, making a gesture with his hands to show how big. Or, rather, how small. "David, or Dennis, or Daffy, something with a D. It doesn't matter. All I know is that I'm not going within a mile of him again because I don't want Batman to decide his moral code allows for finishing me off if his little boyfriend gets hurt again. Who knows what he might do?"
Who knew indeed? Joker settled back into his seat with a scowl. Just who was this guy? Batman didn't even break his no killing rule for his precious baby birds. To waste his breaking point on some nobody, when he wasn't even there to participate?!
Batsy's attention belonged to him. Maybe Joker couldn't do much about whatever Batman's thing with Superman was, but the big blue would always be an outsider anyway. Some little imp of a meta, he can handle. And how.
He just had to figure out how to draw the little home wrecker out. And then it'd be lights out for Tinkerbell.
Good parents Jack and Maddie crying as their baby boy goes off to college. They've turned off the portal and are in the process of correcting their initial findings so everyone in town tries to avoid them otherwise you will be subjected to the new findings which mark ecto entities as sapient and therefore deserving of rights or gushing about how Danny is off to college since his small business pays so well. He did so well he rejected the scholarships from Gotham University because he said it would be better going to someone who needs it and they did such a good job raising him because look at how successful and generous he is!
The business in question is more of a cheat since being king of the infinite Realms means he is fluent in any language to exist. Safe, dead, or extinct the status of a language doesn't matter to him. With Technus's help he sets up and online portal where people can submit pictures or copies of stuff for him to translate at a premium price. He refuses to take any money from the fruit loop and the money he learns will go towards his clone's schooling when she gets to that point. Right now she is using it for her travels and sending them postcards.
People who claim his translations as their own get black listed with a huge fee coming out of their bank account for the breach of contract. He is trying to keep his business on the down low so those breakthroughs that get on the news are not what he is looking for. His main demographic is rich snobs with private art collections. What Danny doesn't know is that his main customers are the Justice League.
There are some clues but he kinda ignores them. Like when a document submitted is a summoning ritual he sends back a partial translation since the summoning is not good (there are worst beings they could summon but it will still be a hassle) however revealing knowledge of the banishment is harmless.
Gotham cultists hate him because they know he can translate the whole document/book but all of their attempts to trace the sage of tongues (trying to give invisobill kinda vibes) they find a dead end. They try submitting from different computers, locations, routers, anything, but just end up giving Danny more money lol
The Justice League is almost in tears because the jusyice league dark could not agree on the translation of the banishment ritual and everything they tried before had failed.
His favorite translations are the stories that give alien vibes. They talk about certain structures (he thinks it might be structures) as if they are common knowledge. Unknown to him those are Kryptonian fairy tales that Lois submitted. She didn't want to give Jon a funny accent so Clark can read them in Kryptonian while she does the English.
Duke having a hard time with an assignment, sends an inquiry asking if he offers homework help (he wouldn't be using it for career advancement which is against the terms of service BUT he would be claiming it for points so he asked) and that is how Tim finds out about this sketchy website that can translate anything. Danny feels the sincerity and sleep deprivation in the inquiry so he replies back "I admire your courage and will do you a solid but only if your promise to sleep a minimum of 8 hours. I'll know if you don't and snitch so go to sleep đ´" The translation is attached and already in the format his teacher requested.
Steph: How is he gonna know?
Duke: Idk but he is a life saver!
Tim: Duke, did you just sell your soul for a homework assignment?
Duke: Let me sleep and then we'll see what happens đĽą
Tim is driven crazy because he needs to know who is behind the website. And also because Constantine was kinda in the area and said no. Duke has his soul even if he doesn't sleep, lucky bugger.
Tim feels like the world is conspiring against him when it sends the cutest distraction in one his gen ed courses. He will date the cute guy AND solve this mystery out of spite.
âpls stop summoning me i just want to pass calculusâ (dpxdc)
Danny hates being summoned. He canât stand it. Now, itâs not all that common- after all, who knows how to summon the King of Ghosts? But when it does, it sucks.
Imagine your heart being tugged out of your chest, and you have no choice but to follow it if, you know, you want to stay alive. Imagine being shoved in a tiny little cylinder and being thrown around like youâre the ball in a game of âMonkey-In-The-Middleâ. Now multiply those feelings by 100. Thatâs how it feels to be summoned.
So when Danny feels the familiar tug in his chest during a calculus test, he groans. He finally discovered what Stokeâs Theorem was (despite its many inconsistencies), why does he have to leave now, of all times? He gets out of his seat and quietly asks his professor if he can head to the bathroom. The professor gives him a stink eye, but gives permission anyway. Danny darts out of the room like his pants are on fire and finally allows himself to be swallowed by the metal cylinder of darkness that is a summoning.
He lands gracefully, feet first, within the confines of a decently drawn chalk circle, clearly meant to protect the summoners from his wrath. Unfortunately for them, however, Danny is strong. Freakishly strong. The measly summoning ritual before him does nothing to stop him as he smudges it with his foot before walking through without so much as a twitch of a finger. He finally glances up at his summoners, already exasperated. Danny knows this abandoned warehouse like the back of his hand, after all, heâs been here countless times - all for the same thing.
âGuys, you gotta give it up. Iâm not granting yâall immortality or resurrecting your loved ones. Please leave me alone, I just want to pass multivariable calculus in peace,â Danny sighs out in poorly concealed frustration. He left his calculus test for this?
The cultistsâ leader steps forward confidently and recites his practiced speech as if itâs gospel.
âMy Lord, the Ghost King, please grant us, your loyal followers, the gift of immortality so that we may follow you for eternity. Our souls are pure and will-â
Before he can finish, heâs cut off by a boot to the chest, followed by a flash of metallic red. Red Hood stands in front of the leaderâs body, dusting off his leather jacket smugly (though it is quite hard to tell what the man feels, Danny thinks, what with the helmet and all). The vigilante turns to face the rest of the cultists, and by extension, Danny.
âI got tired of hearing his voice,â Red Hood (in Dannyâs opinion, he should be called Red Helmet) states cockily, clearly smirking under that helmet of his. Danny calls back to him, âYou got tired? Imagine hearing that spiel at least twice a month for a couple of years. Fucking Jeff, man, he wonât let me pass calculus in peace.â
He nudges Jeffâs prone body on the ground. âGet up man, you didnât even get hit that hard. Stop playing dead, youâre no good at it.â As he speaks, however, the rest of the vigilantes drop from the rafters to the ground. Theyâre quiet- theyâre trained by Batman, of course they are- but Danny senses them anyway.
Red Robin - Tim Drake, Dannyâs mind fills in - walks up and cuffs Jeff, who is now miraculously awake. Batman sends him a reproachful glance, but Red Robin shrugs and says, âHe already knew we were behind him, no use in being sneaky here, B.â As RR steps away to call GPCD, evidently to pick up Jeff and the other cultists whoâve just been standing there like a bunch of lost ducklings, Danny stops him.
âHey, any chance you can get the police to go easy on them?â
âWhy? Didnât you say that theyâre the reason you canât pass calculus- which in itself is a really weird statement that Iâm choosing to ignore,â Nightwing questions. Theyâre taking the reveal of an omnipotent, all powerful god pretty well, Danny thinks. He responds out loud, though, saying, âYeah, but Jeffâs a pretty nice guy outside of the cult stuff; we get coffee sometimes. Plus theyâre a nice break from the whole âI killed 50 people for you now give me power to take over the worldâ nonsense that I get from others.â
âAnyway, is there any chance yâall could get me something like a doctorâs note for my calc class? I was in the middle of a test and I was crushing it, trust me, but I had to come here or Iâd be ripped into a million pieces and I really want to finish that test because my grade depends on it,â Danny rambles, bulldozing over Red Hoodâs follow-up question. The room, now clear of all cultists, is silent for a moment. Clearly, the vigilantes havenât processed this situation as well as Danny thought they did. Then finally, Danny gets to hear Batman speak.
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
I⌠am really proud of this one. It fits both the "Eldritch" and "Space" prompt, so I suppose I can just combine them into one.
This is my headcanon for "Space Ancient!Danny". He calls it his "Cosmic Horror" form, but his friends think it gives more of a "Cosmic Comfort" vibe.
My thought process was this:
Most of the fandom about Danny's Eldritch Form: SHADOWS, DARKNESS, BLACK HOLES, THE COLD CARELESSNESS OF THE INFINITE SPACE!!!"
Me: what if⌠Lots of Stars?
Shang qinghua DOES have a wife beam.. but it only works on people that are scared of him.
I just know the demons working for Mobei Jun are all SMITTEN!! with Shang qinghua especially after seeing the amount of authority he has over Mobei Jun and the northern kingdom, him being a spy and backstabbing his sect with no remorse.... Shang qinghua is demon catnip and I will die on this hill !!!
Fandom: Batman/Superman
Ship: Bruce/Clark
Summary: When Pamela, Harley, and Selena recruit Lois to get their boys to finally get together, Clark finds himself with some big trouble, and then a big boyfriend. Not the Valentine's date Bruce had in mind, but he is nothing if not creative.
At this rate, Lois was going to find someone to give her a punch card for times kidnapped. Nine kidnappings and you get a free dinner. Because it was just becoming silly now. Couldnât a lady walk back home from the corner grocery store without someone sneaking up and knocking her out with a puff of smoke in this day and age?
At least she wasnât tied up when she woke up this time with a groan, and only had a mild headache from the obviously drugged smoke. And theyâd put her on something soft.
âHey, sheâs waking up! Up and at âem!â
âVolume down, Harls. Give her a second.â
Well, those were voices she was familiar with. Lois pried her eyes open and pushed herself upright on what turned out to be a sofa. And she wasnât alone. Harley and Selena each sprawled over nearby beanbag chairs, with Pamela standing by the couch, glass of water and a painkiller held in her hands and offered out to Lois.
âThere are easier ways to invite me to a girlsâ night, you know,â Lois said casually, accepting both items. She eyeballed the pill before shrugging her shoulders and swallowing it down. If they wanted to poison her, theyâd have done it before she woke up.
âSorry hun, but we had to get you before Supes noticed we were in his city,â Harley said brightly, grinning. âAnd donât worry about the groceries. Ives stuck them in the fridge. Weâll give them back before we send you home.â
âSo, I take it this isnât a hostage situation, then,â the reporter concluded. She finished up her water before leaning back into the couch, arms folded over her chest. âWhatâs going on?â
âLois, you know me better than that,â Selena said, a hand over her heart, mock wounded by the statement. Getting a flat look in return, she smiled. âWe need your help for a little something we have planned.â
Lois narrowed her eyes, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
âSee, thing is, weâve been watching Bats and Supes dancing around each other for ages, and weâre kind of getting sick of them mooning over each other and not doing anything about it,â Harley said, flopping back on her cushion dramatically. âAnd me and Ives figured that you and Selena are probably in the same boat, having been with them before.â
âItâs been a little ridiculous,â Selena agreed. She cooed as a cat walked up and crawled into her lap. âBruce is hopeless when it comes to making romantic moves, and theyâre always so busy. So, we had a thought to force their hand a little and spend time together. Well, mostly Ivy came up with the idea.â
The red-head waved the credit away. âJust a little creative plant breeding. Nothing that will hurt either of them.â
âYeah, we donât want to hurt them. We want to get them to the smooching. And right in time for Valentines!â Beaming, Harley got up and fetched a fancy looking chocolate box, already wrapped up with a bow. âWeâd have given them to Bruce, but heâs too suspicious of everything to eat one without testing it. So instead, we thought you could pass them on to Supes. Tell him Bruce sent them, or itâs a secret admirer or something. Long as he eats one.â
âAnd what exactly will this do to him?â Lois asked, looking at the box suspiciously.
Snickering, Harley leaned in and whispered into her ear. The reporter felt her eyes grow wider with each detail.
âSo, you in?â Pamela asked, eyebrow raised.
Lois grinned slowly. âCount me in.â
-
Clark was single. Had been ever since his divorce from Lois. So he hadnât exactly planned to do anything for Valentineâs Day. He and Lois had agreed that sending each other cards at this point was just awkward, and Jon was too old to be making them for his parents in school. And as much as he knew what he would like to be doing (who he would like to be doing), there didnât seem to be much chance of that.
He walked out from the Planet building with a yawn, the sun throwing deep shadows as it started to dip down behind the high-rise buildings that made up the central core of Metropolis. Cat had taped paper hearts to nearly every surface, but itâd still just been a day like any other. Maybe a little more quiet than usual, but he supposed even villains might have had date night plans.
âClark, wait!â
Jerking, Clark almost missed the last step down to the sidewalk, and likely would have fallen on his face⌠if he couldnât fly, that was. Turning around, he waited for Lois, who was hustling down the steps towards him.
âGlad I caught you before you disappeared,â his partner said, grinning. She held out a suspiciously heart shaped box. âFor you.â
âLois, I thought we said-â
âDonât worry, Smallville, itâs not from me,â Lois said, pushing the box against his chest. âIâm just playing messenger.â She swatted his hand when he went to open the box. âNu uh. Wait until you get home. And no x-ray vision.â
âWell, now youâve got me curious,â Clark said with a chuckle, accepting the box. âFine. Means I wonât have to share, in that case.â
âNope, all for you.â Reaching up, she gave him a playful pat on the cheek. âJust donât eat too many at once and make yourself sick.â
The Kryptonian snorted. âIt would take a lot more than these to do that. Have a good night, Lois.â
âProbably not as good of one as you,â Lois said with a smirk, heading off before he could ask her to clarify what she meant.
Shaking his head, he looked down at the box in his hands. Heart shaped, and expensive looking. He was tempted to open it up now anyway, idly turning the little card tucked into the ribbon over. And froze, heart skipping a beat.
âHappy Valentineâs. Love, Bruce.â
Bruce. There wasnât another thought in his head as he sped home, only barely not ripping his apartment door off its hinges pulling it open. Heart racing, he forced himself to set the box down and put his briefcase where it belonged, taking off his jacket and shoes. Only then did he return to the chocolate box and gingerly pull open the ribbon, lifting the lid.
Inside were, well, chocolates. As one might expect from a candy box like that. Pretty and perfect. A far stretch from the grocery store boxes he was more familiar with. No further messages than the card heâd already read, which had been just simple and to the point.
So fitting of Bruce.
Did that mean⌠He felt the blood rush up into his face, heart doing a little flip. If Bruce actually liked him back, then there was a chance.
Especially with his long-time friend making the first move.
Clark couldnât help but smile as he picked out one of the shaped chocolates to try, eyes closing in pleasure at the smooth taste. He usually thought a lot of luxury items were just overblown and overpriced, but⌠Maybe this one had earned its place.
Picking up a second piece, he pulled out his phone, dialing Bruce's number when a wave of dizziness came over him and Clark swayed on his feet. What? He took a step and another wave washed over him, darkness rising up to fill his vision. The thump as his cell phone hit the floor accompanied a sudden feeling of falling, until he landed on a lumpy pile of⌠fabric?
Cracking his eyes open as his vision fought to clear, Clark thought heâd been transported somewhere for a moment. Yards and yards of thick cloth spread out from where heâd landed, something about them very familiar. Yet it wasnât until he looked up that he realized he hadnât been transported. Oh no. That would have been almost normal for him. No, heâd been shrunk.
âOh Rao,â he whispered, staring up at his familiar furniture as it loomed up over him, many times his height.
"Clark?"
Clark jumped at the unexpected voice, turning around to where his cell phone hand landed. Right, he'd been calling Bruce when this happened! He made to fly over to it, but his feet stubbornly stayed on the ground. Oh no. Likewise, his laser vision didn't respond (luckily for his shirt), nor did his x-ray vision. And with each passing moment, he could hear Bruce's voice on the other end of the line getting more concerned.
"Clark, can you hear me?!"
"I'm here!" he shouted. Clark stumbled his way across his fallen clothes to the phone. "Bruce, I need help. My powers aren't responding."
"Where are you?" the other man demanded. Clark could hear the worry.
He looked around, eyes sweeping the space for any traps that might be around. If something had been left for him to stumble into, he didn't want Bruce hit by it too. "I'm in my apartment. I'm not sure what happened. I'd just gotten home."
"I'll be there in ten." And he hung up.
Clark found himself staring at the phone, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. Relief that Bruce would be coming to help him, and confusion because... well, for someone who couldn't fly at superspeed, getting from Gotham to Metropolis in ten minutes wasn't possible.
Then again, this was Batman. If anyone could figure it out, it'd be him.
With help coming, he finally breathed a sigh and took stock of the situation. He was tiny. Six inches at the largest. He didn't have his powers. And, his face grew warm as he realized, he was naked. And had probably less than those ten minutes to find something to cover up with.
Clark searched the area around the living room portion of his apartment, but without superspeed or strength to rip something apart, ten minutes wasn't enough time to find something he could wrap around himself. Something he realized about the time a key slid into the lock of his door, sending him running for his fallen clothes. At least he could duck into them for cover!
The door swung open and Clark felt his breath catch in his throat. Because Bruce was standing there framed in the doorway. Huge, towering, gorgeous.
And worried.
"Clark? Where are you?" he called into the apartment, shutting the door behind himself. He looked around the room and almost immediately locked eyes on the fallen clothes. And then on Clark, heart pounding in his chest. "Clark? What happened to you?"
Swift steps took him across the room, and Bruce crouched down in front of him, scanning the reporter for injuries. The attention brought Clark's blush back up to full force, and he gripped the collar of his shirt tightly.
"I'm not sure. I'd just opened up the chocolates you sent, and--"
"I didn't send any chocolates," Bruce interrupted with a frown.
Clark's heart sank. "They weren't from you?"
Shaking his head, Bruce held a hand out flat in front of Clark. "Were you hurt otherwise?"
"No. I felt dizzy for a bit, but that went away," Clark said. He shoved his disappointment away to deal with later, but made no move to climb into Bruce's hand. Not because of the upset. But because he was still absolutely naked. "I can stay down here. It's fine."
He was given a flat look before Bruce's hand jerked forward to snatch him up from his sheltering clothes.
"Hey!" Clark sputtered, swiftly rising up as Bruce got to his feet. He clung to the thick fingers surrounding him, trying to shoot a glare up at the other man. "Bruce, put me down!"
"The floor isn't safe," Bruce countered, making no move to release Clark as he picked up the lid to the box of chocolates, studying it. "Hm. This shop burned down a year ago."
Very much trying not to think of how warm Bruce's hand felt against his skin, a lot of his skin, Clark swallowed. "So it was definitely a trick, then."
Bruce nodded. "Someone who knows your identity, if it was formulated to block your powers. And knows who you might accept a gift from."
"I guess I should have known better," Clark said with a sigh, looking down at the guilty box. "You're not the sort to send high end chocolates to someone like me."
"No."
Well, that was that then. Embarrassed about his assumptions, he didn't lift his head when there was a rustle of cloth.
"Not when Alfred's are better."
Huh? Blinking, Clark looked up. Bruce held a slender box in his other hand, tied with a red ribbon. He stared at it, heart jumping.
"I suppose this will have to change up my plan for the evening, but I'm sure we can think of something," Bruce said, a little smile on his lips. "And for future reference, I prefer to deliver important gifts in person, not send them through someone else."
"I'll remember that," Clark said slowly. He looked up at Bruce, looking at him with a fresh angle of perspective. To get there that quickly, could he have already been in Metropolis? And even to his untrained eye, the suit Bruce wore looked extra nice. Then there were the chocolates. "Bruce... What plans did you have for today?"
"I was intending to ask you to dinner," Bruce said. Putting the chocolates down, he carefully opened his hand, leaving Clark sprawled across it. "Didn't think we'd be skipping straight to the dessert."
"Bruce!" Clark tried to cover himself with his hands, but had to grab hold of Bruce's fingers again when he started to slide. However, the real trouble happened when he looked up to try and glare at Bruce, only to get caught in the man's gaze. He'd already been blushing from being so exposed, but the way that Bruce was looking at him... It made his heart pound and another part of him stir to attention. Clark sucked in a breath. "Bruce."
"I've been told that I'm not always the best at communicating on my personal feelings," Bruce said, his voice dipping low in a way that made Clark's mouth run dry. "So, this time, I hope I've made my feelings, and intentions, very clear."
Swallowing, Clark nodded his head. "Yes."
Yes, Bruce had made himself clear. Yes, Clark was very much wanting to be with him. Yes, he wanted everything those eyes promised. Yes to many things. And he wasn't sure if he could survive waiting until he was back to normal for it, not with the way hunger in that gaze expressed how much Bruce wanted to utterly devour him.
But there was a problem. "I can't go out like this, Bruce."
A little smirk was his answer, Bruce stepping back and turning the lock on Clark's door with his free hand. "Then we'll stay in. I've found something better than fine dining anyway." Clark was brought up closer to Bruce's face. "But first, can I kiss you?"
"Please," Clark breathed, and then there were lips on him. They covered his entire face, Bruce so much larger than he was. Warm and surprisingly soft, and gentle as they moved. So easily overwhelming. Clark tried to kiss back, whether or not it'd be felt, and shivered when those lips shifted down to kiss his chest next. Then his stomach, which tensed in anticipation. When Bruce pulled him away from his lips instead of continuing down, it drew an embarrassing whine of protest from his throat.
"Let's take this someplace more appropriate," Bruce said, eyes sparkling with mischief. Oh, he was well aware of the absolute tease he was being, and took his time stepping out of his shoes and undoing his tie before carrying Clark to the bedroom.
Sometimes, Clark felt that his apartment was too small for him. Built for a smaller person than his broad-shouldered bulk, leading him to bump into furniture at times when he wasnât paying attention (the glass topped coffee table heâd thrifted when he moved in hadnât stood a chance). The whole place could be crossed in moments. But now, held in Bruceâs hand like he was a delicious morsel, skin flushed and heated, the distance and the time it took to cross it felt like a yawning eternity.
If he'd been thinking more clearly, Clark might have been embarrassed over the laundry in the corner waiting for wash day, or the bits and bobs left carelessly here or there. He hadn't been expecting company, after all. But Clark found it so very hard to pay attention to anything other than the towering form of the man he'd had a crush on for the longest time. The man who literally held him in his hands. No, the state of his room didn't compare.
Climbing up onto the bed, Bruce lounged back against the pillows like he belonged there. Comfortable, he studied his handful intently, clever fingers manipulating Clarkâs limbs to better spread him out for viewing, giant thumbs pressing miniature knees up and open so nothing could hide just how hard the super's cock had gotten. And in Bruce's hands, Clark felt⌠helpless. It wasnât a feeling that he experienced very often, but even so, he knew this time it was different. Normally, it came with the sense of despair and defeat. But like this, in Bruceâs hold, it made his heart pound for a very different reason. Here he was, tiny, naked, held. And there was Bruce, huge, still dressed to the nines, with his fingers wrapped around his whole everything.
âLike what you see?â he asked, his cheeks red as he tried to get a hold on the situation, feeling suddenly shy again.
But Bruceâs lips slowly curled into a smile that made his heart flip all over again. âYes. But Iâd like to see if you taste just as good.â
He brought Clark back up to his face, keeping his knees pinned up and kissing him again as he repeated his path down, the shrunken manâs breath catching when Bruce kept going this time instead of stopping. And he knew that if he'd had any of his super strength left, it would have melted out of his legs in an instant. Warm lips moved over his groin, cock pressed against the plush skin before they opened and Bruceâs tongue slid out to claim the taste he'd wanted. When it dragged over everything from Clark's ass to his cock, tastebuds dragging over sensitive skin, he forgot how to breathe. âBruce!â
A chuckle vibrated against his skin and Clarkâs world narrowed entirely to Bruceâs mouth on his skin. He clung onto that handsome face, giant tongue tracing over his skin and leaving a path of fire and desire so hot that it burned. Every lick drew a cry from his lips, equal parts talented and merciless.
âBruce,â Clark gasped, jerking against him. âWait- I canât- Iâm going too-.â
âLet go,â Bruce said, only pausing long enough for the one command before he was back at it with a new determination to shut Clarkâs brain off entirely.
He squeezed his eyes closed, head spinning with every slow drag of that tongue over his cock, the way it pinned it against his stomach. With no choice but to just let it happen. Entirely under Bruceâs control.
And how.
Clark cried out as he came, his release barely a splash against the enormity of Bruceâs tongue despite how much he usually came as a Kryptonian. The next lick was gentler, almost lazy, as it cleared away all evidence with ease. Bruce humming softly with satisfaction before gently lifting Clark away from his mouth, cradling him in his hands.
Slumped back, panting for breath, Clark stared up at him in an afterglow induced daze. Bruce looked back down at him, dark blue eyes taking in every inch of sprawled and panting Kryptonian. Unbidden, he broke away from the smug (and still hungry) gaze, attention drifting down to Bruceâs lips. The ones smirking with pleased satisfaction. The ones thatâd just--
Oh Rao, how was he ever going to face him in a meeting again without just staring at his mouth the entire time?
âSomething on your mind?â Bruce asked, voice still unfairly normal. Not scratchy like heâd just sucked the soul out of him, and not even out of breath.
âJust how Iâm going to keep from thinking about this whenever I see you at work,â Clark admitted, dropping his head back and swallowing heavily when he was treated to a flash of tongue, cock giving a twitch of interest. It looked like, powers or no, he still had as short refractory period as ever. With Bruce like this, it wouldn't take much at all to get hard again. âYes, that.â
âIâll just have to give you something else to think about.â
âI donât know how much that is going to help,â he said with a breathless laugh. Lifting his head, he looked the other man over. Still nearly as pristine and perfect as when heâd come in.
That didnât sit right with him.
"Doesn't seem right for me to be the only one getting off," Clark said, trying to think of just what he could do for someone as large as Bruce was to him at the moment. "Or for you to still look so- so perfect!"
"Oh?" Bruce asked with a purr, lowering the hand he held Clark in to rest against a clothed thigh. "I'm all ears."
With the new angle, Clark was given a better view of Bruce's sprawling form. Long legs behind him that seemed to go for miles, a narrow waist that asked for hands bigger than his (at the moment) to hold onto. As soon as he got back to normal...
Bruce's responding laugh broke him out of his trance staring at the veritable feast that was his Gotham counterpart. It was a beautiful sound, even if it was at his expense. "Should I set you down then, so you can figure it out?"
Clark swallowed, nodding. "I might need you to undress first."
"In a minute. Let's see what you're still able to do first."
Instead of making any move to strip, Bruce tipped his hand slowly, letting Clark slide out of it to stand shakily on one cloth covered thigh. He kept his hand close while Clark found his footing, never once looking away from him. For Clark, the feeling of that gaze was a physical thing, like a caress over his skin. And he liked it. But he wanted more than just the feeling of his eyes.
Slowly, trying not to stumble as the fabric of Bruce's pants shifted under his slight weight, Clark made his way into the man's lap, already fixed on a goal. Bruce might have looked almost entirely unaffected, like he could have fixed his tie and walked into a board meeting, but the bulge he was headed for told a different story. And he could think of more than a few things he could do with that to help satisfy his giant lover.
Even without his super hearing, Clark could hear the catch in Bruce's breath as he climbed up onto his prize, straddling that bulge in order to work the button at the top open. He kept shifting on his perch as he struggled against the stiff fabric, and felt a spark of pride when Bruce twitched beneath him. Once the button came free, he wiggled his way down until he could push his hands under the flap of cloth that hid the zipper pull, and braced himself against Bruce to pull it down, metal tooth after metal tooth. But it was his turn to suck in a breath when the cock inside nearly sprang out, free from its cage. And this close, he could feel the heat radiating from it.
"Going commando, Bruce?" he asked, trying to sound teasing, and not like his mouth had begun to water. Clark reached up, unable to resist at least running his hand over what he could reach. "You must have been confident that I was going to say yes."
"Well placed confidence, from the looks of it," Bruce said, breath coming a little quicker. "Keep going."
Clark didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around the heated shaft, marveling at the way they barely encircled it, and pulled it the rest of the way free, having to strain against the sheer weight of the thing. And once it was free of the fabric, rising on its own, he stared.
It was bigger than he was.
Peering up past it to Bruce watching him from the distance, he had to wonder what he even looked like to him. Clark, Superman, dwarfed by his lover's own cock, still a mess from being played with. There just to give Bruce pleasure. Utterly at his mercy. The thought made him shiver, and he moved forward to wrap his arms around the man's shaft once again, hooking a leg up around it so he could grind against him. So close, he could feel Bruce's heart rate pulsing against him, as fast as his own probably was.
He pulled himself up to press open mouthed kisses over the darkened tip of Bruce's cock, smearing his face with the precum that'd already begun to bead up and run down in thick globs that filled his senses with the taste and scent of the other man. Clark let his hands wander, exploring the shape of him against him. Taking up his entire focus. This was not how he thought their first time together might go when he fantasized about it, but fuck, something deep in him would not let him complain.
And Bruce didn't seem to mind either, not with the way his big hand came up and wrapped around them both, sandwiching Clark in between and pinning him against him. "There you go," the man purred, voice low. "I think that's where you belong for now."
Slowly, the other man dragged his tiny body with the movement of his hand as he stroked himself, using him like a willing toy. And the realization brought a moan to Clark's lips. This. This was what he wanted to do. He returned to the wet kisses all up and down the giant cock, where no longer left up to him to control. Neither was the speed, Bruce's pace unwavering no matter how much he squirmed to try and urge him faster. As long as he was small like this, he was Bruce's. To play with, to pleasure.
And, it seemed, to torture. The friction of his cock grinding against Bruce's so slowly enough to make him gasp and moan, carrying him close to a second climax, but not enough to send him over the edge.
And what else could he do but surrender and submit? When Bruce shifted his hand to slide a finger under Clarkâs ass, he took the opportunity to spread his legs for him, wrapping them Bruceâs cock and bringing them more tightly together.
âYouâre doing good,â Bruce murmured, voice low and heavy with lust. Barely audible over the slick sound of moving flesh that filled Clarkâs ears. âSo good for me.â
Clark didnât have the brain power to respond, senses so overwhelmed with Bruce. His taste, his scent, the heat of his skin, the panting of his breath. When he was brought up to the head, he pulled his face away to peer up at Bruceâs face, completing the set of senses. Everything was Bruce.
Bruce who stared back down at him, his face finally flushed with the same need that Clark felt, even if his hair hadnât been so much as mussed. Bruce who looked at him like Clark was the only thing he could focus on too. Like he wanted to utterly devour him.
And then Bruce's hand tightened around them and Clarkâs world flipped around. He was on his back, pinned between Bruceâs palm and the weight of the manâs cock laying over him. The heat of it felt like it could burn him, and his heart pounded with desire and anticipation in time to the powerful feeling of Bruceâs pulse against him.
âBruce, please...â he whined when the other man just held them still in place. Clark squirmed, trying to urge him on, but he was so well pinned that he could barely move.
Thankfully, Bruce was as hungry for him as he was for the Gotham knight, because it was only a bare breath later that he began to thrust into his hand, against him. And it was clear that Bruce was done being delicate.
Clarkâs cries were muffled under Bruce's thrusts, fast and eager, the weight of his cock on Clark holding him in place and bringing every nerve to life as it dragged powerfully over his skin, slick with the other manâs precum. Even so, Clark didn't stop trying to taste, to pleasure the other man, suck on whatever patch of flesh his mouth found. And knowing he was moving in the right direction because above him, Bruce panted harder for breath, and the burning flesh thrusting against him pulsed faster.
Clark just sunk into the feeling, the grind of Bruce's cock against him moving in a seemingly endless loop of heat and friction. Leaving him dizzy with it, body coiling tighter with every thrust. Until it snapped.
"Bruce!" he cried, arching against the weight still moving over him as he came for the second time that evening, hard enough that spots flashed before his eyes and he head spun as he clung to the hard cock still moving.
Because Bruce wasnât done yet.
Clark gasped, body jerking with sensitivity as those thrusts continued to move over him, speeding up as Bruce used him to chase his own orgasm. He could barely hear his own name being moaned over the blood rushing in his ears, but the sound still sent a fresh shudder through him. Knowing that he was the one doing this to Bruce, and only him. Bruce who filled his senses and made his heart race.
All of it left him light headed and feeling like he was so close to coming apart, or like he could just stay here forever, surrounded by the other man. So attuned to his partner, now in more ways than work, that could knew what the catch in Bruceâs breath meant, the way Bruce froze with his handheld lover held halfway up his cock.
âClark,â Bruce breathed above him and then Clark was covered. What seemed like gallons of cum spurted out from the thick head, coating what had to be every inch of his body. Hot and thick, it weighed him down as he slumped back into the giant hand holding him in place.
When he came back to himself enough to wipe the thick cum away from his eyes so he could open them, Clark immediately found himself caught in the dark blue of Bruceâs gaze.
âHey,â he said, feeling too scrambled still to articulate more just yet.
High above him, Bruceâs lips, the ones thatâd teased him so well, curved into a little smile that was both fond and amused. âHey.â
The other man moved his hand, allowing his softening cock to slide free from his grasp and the tiny body contained within before giant fingers stroked over tiny legs that Clark hadnât even realized were shaking.
âSorry,â Clark blurted automatically.
But Bruce just snorted and continued his gentle rubdown, smearing his cum over Clark even more. âWhat for?â When Clark opened his mouth to respond, he found he didnât have an answer, and closed it after a moment. Leaving Bruce to give a satisfied hum. âExactly.â
The gentle massage, even with fingers so huge, felt good, and if he hadnât already been a living puddle of loose limbs, it would have turned him into one. Even as Bruceâs cum cooled, it became less comfortable and he squirmed under the petting.
âI need a bath,â he said, finally finding the strength to raise his hands and push against Bruceâs fingers.
âThought I just gave you one,â Bruce commented lightly.
Expression dry, Clark looked up to fix with him a look. Bruce, of course, was absolutely unashamed of himself and smirked down at his cum coated boyfriend, making a point to rub a finger once more over Clarkâs chest, playfully marking out an S before curling his hand around the Kryptonian and sliding from the bed.
Bruce carried him into the bathroom and gently cleaned Clark off under the tap. Fingers thatâd teased and played with him, thatâd gripped him tight against his cock, now took their time carefully washing the evidence away. Clark found himself going limp once more, just allowing himself to be taken care of.
âClose your eyes,â Bruce murmured, and started to work a drop of shampoo into Clarkâs hair once he did. It was followed by conditioner and a final rinse before he was patted dry and wrapped in a hand towel.
Exhaustion didnât keep him from appreciating the view when he was set down on the counter and Bruce stripped off his suit to clean himself up too. Heâd seen most of Bruce before, when patching the man up or in the showers after a joint mission, but those times were different. Bruce hadnât been washing away the sweat and cum from lovemaking then. And Clark hadnât felt nearly as free to ogle. Nor would he have so blatantly looked so low.
âYouâre staring,â Bruce pointed out, tossing his wash cloth into the hamper.
âDonât you think Iâm entitled to now?â Clark asked, dragging his eyes away from the cock heâd just been wrapped around and up to Bruceâs face. âBesides, youâre too pretty not to look at.â
The face that didnât look at all bothered by the fact, for all that Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. But Clark was not going to be retracting his statement any time soon. Bruce was beautiful, all of his scars included, and he would die on that hill.
âSo says the perfect man of steel,â Bruce said at last with a little laugh. He once more gathered Clark up in his hands, and the shrunken man leaned into the warmth of them.
Bruce carried him back into the bedroom, sliding into the bed and laying Clark on his chest, a hand laid over him. The message that it was time to rest was clear, and Clark made himself comfortable, smiling as he heard the strong beating of a heart beneath his âbed.â
âNot worried that Iâll change back and crush you in the night?â he asked, head tilted to still be able to see Bruceâs face.
Meaning he saw the playful smile that appeared. Tired, but playful all the same. âNo. Thereâs still the rest of the box.â
It took him a moment to connect response to meaning, but once he did, Clark blushed and swatted the broad chest he laid on. âBruce!â
Bruce laughed, fingers stroking over Clarkâs back. âYou enjoyed it, didnât you?â
The shrunken reporter sputtered. âWell, yes, but we donât know where they came from! There could be other side effects!â
âWe know Lois delivered them, and I recognized the card. Itâs one I gave Selena when we were dating,â Bruce explained and he continued petting him. âShe and Harley have been having coffee together regularly. I have not seen Pamela specifically using a shrinking pollen, but it would likely not be outside of her capabilities.â
Clark was quiet for a moment as he put all of that together and connected it with how calm Bruce had been about the situation. He eyed his new giant boyfriend. âYou knew all along, didnât you?â
Bruce chuckled. âNot until I got a good look at the chocolates.â
Mollified, he let out a small huff. Of course Bruce wasn't in on it. If he had been, he wouldn't have left when Clark ate one of the chocolates up to chance.
Of course, with the risk deemed safe... Clark couldnât help but think of how everything had felt, being so overwhelmed but also cared for by Bruce. He took a long, slow breath. âItâs a big box. And they were good. Would be a shame to waste them.â Getting an idea, Clark smiled. âWonder how theyâd work on humans.â
âIâll ask the girls.â Expression satisfied, Bruce laid his head back to rest. âGoodnight, Clark.â
âGoodnight.â Still smiling, Clark settled and let the beating of Bruceâs heart lull him into sleep. It might not have been the kind of date heâd pictured when heâd let himself fantasize about being with Bruce, but he found he had no complaints.
And if he had chocolate smudged on his fingers from waking up in the middle of the night... well, who was going to know?
