#basically diana goes undercover as a civilian to see how the mayor treats his citizens or maybe shes running from something and lois

[bruciemilf]

wait I have got to hear your thoughts on bruce being lottie!!

Rewatching Princess and The Frog has got me in a chokehold! But basically, the AU as of now;

It's a well established, well know, well respected fact from the White House to the Bayou; If you ain't Wayne rich, you ain't rich at all.

But you won't catch Thomas Wayne bragging and boosting and yapping about hot cars, or big mansions, or pearly white yachts.

Thomas' pride and joy is one tiny, fawn eyed, overly energetic boy that made Gotham collectively swoon.

"And I want a princess when I grows up!" Bruce is just prancing around in his pink prince costume, adjusting a paper crown that Alfred made, " Or a prince! Can you get me a prince, papa?"

"You know the deal, Bruce; You wish it, daddy grands it; Ain't that right, Martha?"

Martha Kent chuckles in that warm, knowing way of hers. Her friend is infamous for the way he spoils his boy. But the Waynes are good people. And not just because they keep her farm afloat.

"Yeah, you're good on that front. But you know, sweetheart; It doesn't matter if you marry a prince or princess. As long as they make you smile, that's all that matters."

Lois, just a bit older than Bruce, makes a disgusted noise, " I don't want no prince or princess. I just want Princess money."

Bruce squeals, " But a PRINCE. I'd love to marry a Prince. We'd have a big big wedding and the sweetest cake in the world, and everyone would have fun, -- Clark! You gonna be at my wedding, right?"

Clark, dressed up in his blue overalls and paper sword, to fit the knight Bruce always calls him, nods, with a smile that doesn't match his words, " Course I will, Bruce. If you'll have me."

Now. Bruce is so very good at forging fantasies. But when a princess from a far away island rumoured to be populated entirely by women comes into town, it doesn't look like make believe at all.

"Women only? Lucky."

Lois doesn't have the time for dreams; She's a bonafide, concise, straight to the point realist. Taking truth by the throat and brings it to light.

And often enough, truth isn't pretty. And ugly truth, as Parry said, right before booting her right out of her job, doesn't sell.

Luckily, Clark's folks were nice enough to give her a delivery job cause Clark can't drive worth a damn. Still. If she's gonna watch him contain another dreamy sigh for Bruce, she'll blow chunks.

"Did you see her in them papers?! That's the prettiest woman I ever did see!"

Mr. Wayne growls behind his newspaper (that Lois could've written better than fucking JIMMY) and Bruce doubles down, " Um. After mama."

Mr Thomas smiles. "Hm. Guess you're finally getting that princess, huh, Brucie?"

Even in adulthood, Bruce squeals like a strangled kitten, " Where's Clark? Can't have the perfect wedding without the perfect best man!" Lois bites her lip and stacks up the peaches in Mrs. Wayne's Cafe.

After all these years, she just refuses to let that old place go. Lois has to respect that. Martha gives her a sympathetic look, warms her up with a mother's love. " How's work, Lo?"

"It's work, Mrs. Wayne. Thank you for that big order for the masquerade ball. At this point, you're the only ones keeping that farm alive..."

"Give those apples some credit," she winks, but squeezes Lois' hand, " If you ever need anything..."

"Thank you. But I don't take handouts."

"Pride won't buy you food, honey. But I guess I gotta wait for you to open your own newspaper. Then I'll make you rich. You'll see."

Bruce is just hugging and squeezing on Clark's arm, ranting a mile a minute about his wedding colors, his cake flavor, the honeymoon, all while nuzzling Clark's toned arm.

And Clark does what he does best; Hide behind a smile.

Alfred sighs, " If he wasn't mine, I'd whack that boy's head with a pan."

"You'll do no such thing, or so help me!"

"Save it for the after party, Tommy dear," Martha chuckles, " But I gotta understand, -- this Diana lady's making waves. I never even seen a woman talk to the mayor before. Let alone yell at 'Im."

"That's cause Tommy Elliot only wants women under his desk," A roll of the eye, a coil of disgust fanning resentment In her gut, Lois takes the box. "Sides, little miss princess probably ain't better than he is. "

The problem with always looking back is you're never ready for the forward.

When Lois bumps up in something tall, solid, and warm, she thinks its Clark. Except neither she or Clark smell like vanilla ice cream and clean air and blue oceans.

Clark certainly doesn't have long, majestic hair gracefully dancing in the winds. He doesn't have blood red lips, or strong blue eyes.

Clark's eyes were summer sky blue. Not a blue Medusa herself couldn't stone.

And he certainly doesn't make her heart stop with a smirk.

"Well," Diana Fucking Prince says, voice satin and velvet, "I don't know about being a better. But I could change your mind about that."