#bruceclark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruciemilf · 1 year

Text

Superman gay for Bruce Wayne real?

#clark kent #bruce wayne #superbat #bruceclark #bruce x clark #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #batfamily #batfamily twitter #twitter au

2K notes · View notes

pintobordeaux · 2 years

Text

The fact that Bruce drew out all of the sketches for “Anatomy of a Metahuman” means that:

Bruce can draw from life (and do it well)

Bruce had to practice drawing to get that technically proficient (and anatomically precise) at it

So I ask you to rotisserie this idea in your brain - Bruce asking Clark to let him practice life drawing on him. And Clark agreeing to be Bruce’s life model/drawing muse.

Think small everyday sketches. Think titanic level “draw me like one of your french girls” sketches. Think loose papers and doodles with Clark’s face or likeness scattered around the Batcave and sometimes in the margins of Justice League reports.

#Superbat #bruceclark #bruce wayne x clark kent #How is this not a thing? I checked AO3 and couldn’t find ANY stories with this in it?#maybe my keywords are off and I’m just not finding it #if anyone knows of one PLEASE share with the class

871 notes · View notes

librarianbabs · 1 year

Text

had a rough few days so I drew myself some superbat kisses pls enjoy

#I put so much of my mental health on these two oops #anyways they’re in love okay #superbat #bruceclark #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #dc #dc comics #bee larue art #my art

243 notes · View notes

hackedmotionart · 1 year

Photo

Bruce and Clark sketch commission for Kika!

Thank you so much!!

#ko-fi commissions #BruceClark

233 notes · View notes

loveprides · 9 months

Text

Clark:Are you ready for our date Bruce ?

#superbat #superman x batman #superbat ship #bruceclark #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman #batman #dc pride #yaoi #gay men #gay #superman batman

114 notes · View notes

qgunslinger · 9 months

Text

heyyy yall

#superbat #world's finest #supergirl #batgirl #superman #batman #bruceclark #idk what else to tag #dc comics #qg art #dc

82 notes · View notes

violetclowns · 2 years

Text

keep liking my posts if u want this to be us

#shut up reese #Batman #Superman #superbat #clark kent #Bruce Wayne #dc comics #dc #BruceClark

339 notes · View notes

soetrys · 1 year

Text

thinking about world’s greatest detective batman being a clueless mess but only when it comes to one mister clark kent

#soe stuff #bruceclark #superbat #bruce wayne #clark kent #i miss writing them sfksd life has been too busy !!#if anyone has any prompts for drabbles feel free to drop 'em in an ask though i'd love to Try

73 notes · View notes

gayassdbz · 1 year

Text

Hrgrhrhrh superbat brainrot

#superbat #superman #batman #bruce wayne #clark kent #my art #bruceclark #dc

78 notes · View notes

bats8batarangs · 10 months

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent Additional Tags: Mentioned Joker (DCU), Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-Consensual Touching, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Biting Summary:

After a brush with Joker Clark gets out of control. Will he and Bruce's relationship ever be the same?

Or,

Bruce and Clark get hot and heavy but the author loves non-con so things go south.

fixed up a twitter ficlet

#superbat #bruce wayne #clark kent #bruceclark #batjokes #(a little)#(like blink and u miss it)

24 notes · View notes

tardrewrites · 2 years

Text

Morning

SuperBat/ClarkBruce (Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne or Superman/Batman)

Warnings: none!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knows strange. He’s a superpowered alien who’s friends with more superpowered aliens, and give or take a couple of regular guys. He saves the world as frequently as the average human brushes their teeth; at least twice a day if they’re good ones.

Humans, that is. Good humans. Yes. He knows strange. He knows how to live with it, to adapt and to condition. He prides himself on this - on his abilities, his connections, his identity; his Kryptonian and Smallville roots alike. He knows strange. He gets over strange.

But this? This is different.

This is the first time anything even remotely close to intimacy (along with permanence) has weasled its way into poor old Clark Kent’s lousy little life. But then again, this isn’t Clark Kent.

Clark Kent is not bundled up in a thousand-dollar duvet, nor is he bombarded with the scent of expensive shower gel and the slight hint of blood. It is not Clark Kent who carefully opens his eyes to gaze upon his morning companion, just as it is not the billionaire playboy on last week’s front pages of both The Planet and The Gazette’s papers who shifts in his sleep, perceptive even when essentially unconscious.

No, it is not Clark Kent. It is not Superman. It is not Brucie and it is not The Bat.

It’s just Kal, who isn’t from around here. And Bruce, who decided to change that.

Kal (he prefers Clark, although he can’t help but recall the jolt of energy which coursed through him that night when Bruce had referred to him by his traditional, given name) knows strange, yes. And this? This should be strange. And really, it is, technically. It is strange that the man with the great big ‘S’ on his chest has slept in, and has awoken to find himself in the grip of not an enemy, but of his teammate and good friend - very good friend.

His mind drifts to the headline, and he feels himself smile softly into the filtering sunlight. Who knew the Dark Knight left his blinds open in a show of admittance toward the morning sun? Perhaps it was for him? For Clark Kent? The thought would have melted him, had the sun not been rejuvenating him.

‘BRUCE WAYNE: THE BISEXUAL(!?) BILLIONAIRE IS NOW IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH AN OUT-OF-TOWN REPORTER - CLARK KENT?’

He won’t tell the man beside him - the same one who he has yet to become accustomed to the hardcore cuddling skills of because, really - Batman? A cuddler? - that he has The Planet’s article stowed away somewhere in the depths of his apartment, but he’s sure he already knows.

Jason has it framed in his rarely inhabited room in the manor, where the Superman just so happens to be; the place where he engages in procedures such as sparring with Batman and talking over important data and JLA operatives and beating him in Mahjong and watching him brood before offering to take him to that fancy Mexican place that makes the country boy feel impoverished and very, very white, all before fighting over the love life of his third adopted son and subsequently tiring each other out by entirely unrelated means down in the master bedroom - you know, the usual teammate stuff.

And it’s strange that the pair of them should be able to engage in such behavior. It really is, but it isn’t bad. It means that the world is changing and, however daunting change may be, this change is for the best. Earth is reforming at long last, and the World’s Finest are a very, very large part of this executed eventuality. And so they find solace in this, in the sum of the fortune which they have waited years upon years to be repayed.

That article was published three years ago on a Monday morning. This day exactly, Clark thinks. It was strange then. So new and so fragile. And it is fragile still. However, he has now come to the realization that it is not strange to sink into the arms of your lover in the shining light of the early morning.

Superhero or not, Kal who is long since from around here has that right, and he is perfectly aware of it. It is not strange for Bruce Wayne to be faithful, to be happy and to be healthy; for Batman to finally find the right notes in the harmony, to work with his team - with his beloved.

It is not strange when Clark buries his nose into soft, dark hair so very similar to his own and yet completely, devastatingly unique. It is not strange when he allows his eyes to flutter shut and to focus on the stuttering heartbeat of Bruce Wayne as he awakes, groggily grasping his partner’s forearm and leading it to lay atop his muscular abdomen. No, it really isn’t strange.

“I love you,” Clark says, slightly still hampered. Even without any super capabilities, he can see Bruce smile. Who knew Batman smiled? Kal.

Kal did.

“Mmh,” is his reply. Bruce leans into the tender kiss which is planted on his temple as his Superman holds him close, like Clark is afraid his Bat will fly too close to the big ball of light right before their window. Clark loves him. He hates to quote his cousin, but Great Rao does he love him.

Batman falls deeper into his silk pillows and almost nuzzles his way somewhat under Superman’s head, his hot breath on the shell of the man’s ear.

“Kal,” he whispers.

“Mmh,” said man grins, opening his eyes. He is met by eyes the color of the sky after … a hurricane. And that- that is okay. He loves him.

Bruce brings a large hand up to his face - cradles him, the near invulnerable Man of Steel - and brings their lips together in a sweet, lingering kiss. It’s more effective than any dosage of morning coffee. “Kal." His eyes flutter closed while he breathes against Clark, lashes brushing his bruised cheekbones.

“Clark,” he inhales. “Clark, I believe- I believe I have to marry you.”

A beat. A few more, with the appearance of some particularly chatty birds down below in the courtyard outside. Clark grins widely, pointedly gazing into the dark circles of his fiance’s shut eyes.

“Have to?

The man sighs, running a hand down the entirety of his bone structure - which is very good, even Superman says so - before meeting Clark's eyes once more. Bruce grumbles, but Clark knows him, knows the raw sincerity in his rasp and the emotion in his clear eyes. “I want to, Clark. I want to marry you.”

No, he tells himself, knows himself. It isn’t strange at all.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make a trip to the thrift shop for a new suit,” Clark kisses his future husband, “Something vintage, maybe ‘73?”

Bruce scoffs. “I retract my offer.”

“Well, I retract your retraction!”

“You can’t-”

“I’m calling Dick.”

“Clark-”

“I’m calling Jason. I'm getting up to do it right now."

“Kal.”

Not strange in the slightest.

#superbat #clarkbruce #bruceclark #kalbruce #brucekal #bruce/clark #bruce/kal #worlds finest #batman/superman #batman x superman #clark x bruce #bruce x kal #superbatfam #superbat fic #superbat drabble #tardrewrites

104 notes · View notes

bruciemilf · 1 year

Text

Okay besties, I have an idea for you;

AU where the justice league was rooted in a small town; everyone knows everybody and no one knows anyone. Not really. But them? Oh, they know eachother.

They knew Clark and Bruce would tie the knot right after graduation.

They knew Diana would take new York museums by storm. They knew Hal would grow into his dad's aviator jacket. They knew Barry would wear gold around his neck in the Olympics. They simply knew.

Except for the fact that Clark had no idea Bruce would go on to divorce him just to marry an old sparring buddy, -- Khoa something; he doesn't know to this day, and he refuses to learn, -- for reasons he wouldn't divulge.

And bruce didn't anticipate his ex husband being the one who would investigate his husband's murder.

Funny how death brings people together.

Not until Dick, their boy, his boy, too, - He's Jon and Kon's brother just as much as he's Jason's, Tim's, and Damian's, and no piece of shit paper could take that from him, - told him, a bone white paleness to his cheeks the day of his weekend.

Their home is chaos; Not a chaos he knows, a chaos he loves, but a disservice on their once home.

Four different cars parked in front of Bruce's manor, dark enough to blend in the depth of night, give Clark a pretty good idea of what he'll find.

" This is bad. This is really bad, right? Oh god, is he moving? He just looked at me, I SWEAR he just looked at me,--"

'' Who gave Barry coffee?" Clark doesn't want them to be shocked when he enters, because really, he's not supposed to be here. The spark of twisted pleasure when they see him Is small, but it's there. " Who died?"

Hal skips over the corpse currently occupying the living room carpet, a frenzy in his eyes, " We do NOT have time for your shit, Kent. It's bad enough Wayne dragged us along to his little graveyard shift,--"

Clark doesn't particularly want to know who's that Oliver tosses Russian words with over the phone, but he takes a pause, only to point sharply at the pilot, " As if you have anything better to do you plane crushing fuck--"

" One time! One time!"

" Quiet down! You're upsetting Bruce," Command and order came to Diana as naturally as flight does to birds; Out of them all, -- jaded and secretive and wore out by life like a pair of shoes, -- she holds the crown of stability for sure.

Clark envies her. Maybe because she's her, or because she has an arm around Bruce.

He's tired; And scared. Clark's pretty little ghost.

Blanket over his lean, strong shoulders, knees nestled to his chest, shivering under Diana's arms. His eyes haven't left the living room.

Not until Clark walked up to the bottom of the stairs, where he could catch a better view of purple and blue rendering Bruce's sharp cheek.

There's something undeniably demure about Bruce Wayne; Youngest of them, softest of them. Clark adored it; He's always been a beast of a man, -- granted, raised with Martha Kent's southern loving ways, but you can't make a puppy from a wolf.

Bruce very much disagreed, and told Clark as such. That they compliment eachother.

Clark can't help but be sad at Bruce's softness now; But he's not stupid enough to think Bruce weak, and God help you if you're that man. Maybe Khoa was that man.

Bruce's eyelashes flutter like a butterfly's wings, " ...Clark." You came.

" Hi, baby." You called.

He closes his eyes, silently letting embarassment take him. Hal facepalms behind him.

" Not to interrupt your weird Eye Make Out slash Emotional Hug contact, but seriously, we need to call the police!"

" No!" Bruce raises to his feet, fingers twisting and fiddling, a nervous habit. Clark wants to capture him in his arms and never let him move, " No. No police."

Diana's voice is gentle, " Why not?"

" Because he did it!" Hal says, " I mean, it's pretty obvious!"

" Oh shut the fuck up-"

" That's absurb--"

" Hal, you're scared I get it, but Bruce would never,--"

" I did," Bruce declares, sentencing them to silence. " I did it. "

A tension filled cloud slowly drips over them. Hal begins pacing even more. Barry joins him. Oliver's yelling gets louder, and the Bruce's fingers shake worse.

Clark, wordlessly, pulls him upstairs, hands gentle on his smaller wrists, ignoring the call back from downstairs, where death still lingers.

Bruce won't look at him when he asks, " Did you do it? Really?"

" He was going to hit me."

" He was already hitting you," Clark spits the hateful truth, acid hissing over his tongue like a well-sharpened knife, " He was already hitting you. And you didn't kill him then. "

A shiver, a tremble, Bruce turning his back as if to protect himself. Clark's heart hurts. He's never been someone Bruce needed protection from, " Please, --"

" So you were either going to stop him from hitting you... Or from hitting someone else," Bruce's frame moves from him, departs again, and Clark follows, because he let Bruce walk away one time and it got them here, " ...Or someone was gonna stop him from hitting you."

Bruce freezes, gaze wide. Only he's not looking at Clark. He's looking at what's behind him.

Clark follows the line of sight.

There's Jason, their youngest, their tallest, terrified, and teary, and blood soiling his hands.