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@hous3tour
i'm pleasured to be your hot tour guide! baby, what's mine is now yours!
independent, very private, dc themed multi-muse. 21+ ; told by ophelia, 27. carrd to come ( eventually, allegedly. ) rules to be found at showgal. in the interim, welcome to :
❛ of all people, you should definitely know what exaggeration means. ❜ eye roll incredulous in voice alone, a commonplace tone when it comes to dealing with his sister. his hand is taken, limp as a ragdoll and ever enforcing of his unwillingness to join in. the guilt card has been played, and as is typical for bellamy, he folded. ❛ all you’re going to get on video is when you fall on your ass and break something. ❜ stern warning rings out as he reluctantly wobbles forth at her behest : they’re not even on the ice yet. he wants to tell her not to go backwards, that if she falls she’ll sprain a wrist, but instead his grip tightens on her hand as walking gets a little easier to adjust to. the ice rink looms ever closer, his eyes steady on its arrival past her shoulder until comment distracts, his brow furrowing and gaze returning to meet hers. ❛ you know that’s hockey, right ? and way too steamy for you to be talking to me about it. ❜
" keep being mean to me and see what happens. " she's learned to burst into tears on command. well ⸺ she learned that when she was thirteen, but it's been on hiatus. a recent argument with linc put it back in her playbook and bellamy is the perfect target. her bottom lip pokes out, a momentary threat, before she dissolves into another fit of laughter. " me?! you think i'm going to fall?! i'm grace personified. " to prove that point, she steps onto the ice without even looking over her shoulder, grip tightening on his wrist in anticipation of one final protest. " it's the same thing?! it's all on ice . . . oh my god, i'm in college now, you need to lighten up. boooooo! "
" keep being mean to me and see what happens. " she's learned to burst into tears on command. well ⸺ she learned that when she was thirteen, but it's been on hiatus. a recent argument with linc put it back in her playbook and bellamy is the perfect target. her bottom lip pokes out, a momentary threat, before she dissolves into another fit of laughter. " me?! you think i'm going to fall?! i'm grace personified. " to prove that point, she steps onto the ice without even looking over her shoulder, grip tightening on his wrist in anticipation of one final protest. " it's the same thing?! it's all on ice . . . oh my god, i'm in college now, you need to lighten up. boooooo! "
history of man - maisie peters
❛ this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. ——— E V E R. ❜ hyperbole is not quite as newfound to the older blake’s tongue as one might expect ; though not as inclined to throw tantrums, his exaggerations are just as prone as hers. some days, he’ll take the blame. today, as he secures the knot laced in an ice skate and anticipates the precarious venture they’re about to face in the rink, he’ll do no such thing. ❛ someone’s gonna break a bone. with my luck, probably me, you’ll laugh your head off, and christmas cheer is ruined just like that. ❜
@flooredunder liked for a christmas / winter starter.
" really? can you write that down? this is gonna win me, like, six thousand arguments over the course of our lives. " so long to the great octavia crashout of 2024 ⸺ personally, she thinks that led to some of her worst ideas, but she's not going to argue with him about it. she tugs her laces tight around her ankles, hopping to her feet and offering him a hand. " i'm gonna get it on video . . . they'll love it at the er. come on, bells! where's your exuberance and sense of joy! " if she lets go of his hand, she's pretty sure he'll make for the doors, so she just walks backwards, hoping there are no small children in her way. " this is your heated rivalry era. " nope, she has no idea what she means by that. she's just saying words.
@embodies
She was great. I don't want you to think she was weak. She wasn't.
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" well, i didn't. " assures kent, arms crossed just in case his brother may get the wrong idea again. " tractors are farm vehicles. what you got 'em were vanity mobiles. " he should know — he met a guy in gotham with quite a few of those. clark watches tal look at his family picture, one he is notably absent from. there's lots to wonder about there, and it makes sympathy grow exponentially within clark's heart. what could his brother be thinking, looking at all the things he was deprived of? still, despite all that, the man's silence doesn't go by unnoticed. " tal, i really need you to tell me you won't do that again. " clark insists, only with a hint of amusement showing in the corners of his mouth.
the sight of the ring makes him frown, and a familiar feeling of worry rises up his spine. " because the other lana lang was pretty heavily involved with ally's cult. and i'm hoping this is no longer the case, if you two are really playing games like that. " game? what kind of game could that possibly be? " are you and her together? what's happening there? "
" so? you're hardly earning a living through the farm. " implying, of course, that this is clark's vanity project, a smirk wide on his lips. he's not nearly as mouthy when lois is around. " they're teenagers. they deserve a little fun every once in a while. you ⸺ " the next word out of his mouth is almost people, but he thinks better of it. " would hate to hear about the things i was doing when i was their age. at least they can't fly. "
tal is careful to replace the photo just as he'd found it. he's thinking not of childhood lost, but of booking a surprise photoshoot to update this family photo. sometimes, he has his more discrete hotel reservations booked under morgan kent just for fun.
" i will not buy the twins trucks again, " he agrees. " good chat. "
the whole cult issue is dismissed with a wave of his hand; he knows better than to bring up the other jonathan, so it's all he'll say on the matter. " she pretends i'm her dead husband. like a marriage without all the commitment ⸺ she and i both need our space every once in a while. i come and go. "
boy, that coffee thing had really gotten to her. clark does feel awful about it, but it's hard to look that way when he's so damn enthralled by the sight of an angry lois lane. it looks good on her. at the moment, he's hard pressed to think of anything that wouldn't. alas, his enchantment could be mistaken for arrogance. it's that stupid smile that won't leave his lips.
" i did apologize. and in my defense, i hadn't thought it was a meet cute. " he should stop there and cut his losses. the urge is so much stronger than him, though. " but now that you said it . . . " he shoots her a knowing look, eyes full of expectation. aligns awfully closely to the playboy image the media had constructed of him, and he is absolutely oblivious to how it's playing out right now.
he does realize he's not making progress here. in fact, he might just be losing her altogether, so his confidence wavers. her turning around relieves him, but the smirk shot his way hits him right in the heart. clark forgets his own name for a second there. it works out perfectly for the undercover reporter — she could've told him anything and he'd readily believe her, even if she had stumbled over her impromptu identity. which she didn't, and thus he simply believes her completely. all he can think about is that now she will be around much more.
" you are? great! " not a single trace of cool to be found in his tone. the prince sounds every bit as excited as he feels. he takes her hand with a gentle grip, enjoying its warmth against his own. she's much firmer and, needless to say, he admires it. " likewise. " the idiot forgets she has not said her own name. " oh? oh my god, yeah, of course! i'll see to it that you have plenty of shirts sent to your quarters soon as possible. " was that too bold? no, right? she needs shirts, after all. basic necessity. he's being neighborly . . . or whatever. " if that's okay. " he adds nonetheless, then makes a clumsy gesture towards the gardens, beginning their walk in that direction.
in turn, clark tries not to stare at her. " about kara? well — " he can't help the soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. " guess she's what you'd call a tough cookie. incredibly smart, of course, but hard to crack. " hence the endless parade of tutors over the years. " i don't think you'll have much trouble dealing with her, by the way. if first and second impressions are anything to go by. " but she might. kara was difficult on her best day. " but truly, i'm afraid she's not the kind of person one can prepare another for. you'll just know it when you meet her. " a beat, he finally allows himself to look at her. " i hope that doesn't scare you off. "
okay, has she been watching too many rom-coms to be the one putting ideas into his head? maybe everyone at the planet is right. maybe she needs to get out more, outside of work. ( no ⸺ no. ) lois shakes her head at him, but her lips press together in a way that suggests she's fighting a smile. clark does seem sorry enough about the coffee. the canceled press conference is another matter entirely, but she's not ready to let on that she knows about that.
" i'm here for work, " she reminds him. they're three thousand miles away, but she hears cat and jimmy's noooooooo in her head. yes, the prince is clearly flirting with her ⸺ but he's flirted his away across half of europe, so she's under no delusion that she's special. she almost references yesterday's article from a british tabloid about the string of hearts he'd broken over the summer, but decides not to raise any alarm bells in his head. not yet. she'll hold that in her back pocket for when she needs it. " so if you could focus, please? " if that's a little sharp, he'll have to forgive her. he's the only thing standing between her and being home for christmas.
lois considers, for a brief second, what she's getting herself into. a revoked visa, maybe, but she's almost positive krypton isn't in the eu, so she's not risking wider consequences. a question of her ethics, but it's not the first time she and the planet have dealt with that; she's sure it won't be the last.
" i don't know where i'm staying, " she's quick to say. she doesn't expect to get that far before someone realizes that something is off, but she's going to try. " my quarters, i mean. " there's something sincere about the way he talks to her, like he's genuinely pleased to be seeing her again. it's suspicious. lois wants to trust it, and for that reason alone, she won't let herself. she's read enough about him to know that his charm is practiced ⸺ she just hadn't expected it to be quite so awkward. " no, it's okay. i'll go ⸺ i'm sure there's a store somewhere in town. "
( the smile she offers him is a real one, despite her best efforts otherwise. )
" the smart ones always are. once you understand what the world's like, there's no letting your guard back down. " he practically could be describing lois as a child. " do i seem like i'm being scared off? please, clark. i'm pretty sure i invented whatever she wants to throw at me. "
would a real tutor have said that? oh well. it's too late now. all she can do is flash clark another smile.
" one could argue that this time it was you who wasn't looking. " his smile doesn't falter, even in the absence of hers. clark is elated, never having much opportunity for banter in his life. usually, people granted him victories too easily, not allowing any argument to actually start. this woman is not so willing to fall in line — perhaps because she still hasn't recognized him.
she is not kryptonian, of that much he is sure. something about her doesn't fit with the people in his kingdom; there was no fire around these parts that burned quite as fervently as what he sees in her eyes. he's quick to romanticize it, relating it to her heart. in reality, what he sees flashing in those uniquely violet hues is probably just anger because she does in fact know who he is now.
at any rate, she looks very fetching.
" oh, don't worry — i don't have any coffee on me. " a beat, he waggles his eyebrows. " for now, at least. " he's so damn smug, it's punchable. clark did not think he'd be enjoying himself today. what a lovely turn of events! well, it was lovely up until she attempts to turn her back on him again. with a tinge of despair that isn't befitting of a prince, clark calls: " wait! "
the sound of his own voice hits him off-key, and he stops himself from reaching out for her. the prince is aware he's just lost a shred of dignity here, so he must work quickly to recover it. knowing where he was going with this would've been helpful, of course, but he will make do. what had she said again? " you said you're working? are you kara's new tutor? " of course! gary had mentioned something about her being american. " if so, she's at the gardens. i was just on my way to see her too, i can take you there. " a long pause, where he realizes that she must indeed know who he is — she just doesn't seem to care.
it's even better. " i'm clark. " he says finally, extending her a hand. " my name, that is. it's . . . it's clark. " and once upon a time, perhaps, he had been charming as well as a prince, but that possibility is long gone now.
" one could. " mimicry is low, especially when one's target is a prince, but lois is so irate ( conceptually ) she doesn't care. in reality, she's too enthralled with the possibilities that have just unlocked for her anger to survive, but for the principle of the thing, she'll still act annoyed. " but one will not. "
nope, just kidding, she's fuming again ⸺ lois is going to find a cup of coffee somewhere in this palace just so he can know how it feels. it is punchable. " we're still not doing this, " she says in response to his eyebrows. " you don't get to dump a cup of coffee on me and act like it's a meet cute. "
she's not above using a man's unsolicited interest against him, but it's a thin line. lois lane knows who she is and what she'll put up with and she won't compromise on that, even for a headline. she raises a single eyebrow at him. prince or not, she's not going to return the attention until he does something to deserve it. he's going to have to work harder than this.
" wait? " she says, his smugness echoed in her tone. she has him and she knows it, looking back over her shoulder with a smirk of her own. she's about to say why would i do that? he stops her just in time. for once, lois is surprised, but she recovers quickly, not a trace of it on her face. kara is clark's younger cousin; lois memorized the royal family tree on the plane ride over. this certainly would be an opportunity to dig into whatever's going on with this family ⸺ whether or not lois can use any of it is a question for later, when she's back in metropolis. there's only one option.
" yes, " she says. " i am. sure ⸺ you can start there. " in his effort to redeem his image, or whatever he'd like to call it in his head. lois finally offers him a moment of grace. " hi, clark, " she says, taking his hand, her own grip firm. " it's nice to meet you. " no mention of her own name ⸺ she can't risk him knowing who she's supposed to be. " officially, i mean. i will take you up on that offer for a new shirt. " her eyes sparkle as she falls into step beside him, trying not to stare too much at the palace around them. " what can you tell me about kara? "
my sincerest apologies to clark's actual existent rizz but every single time i watch this scene this is what's happening in my head
his disguise often had people treat him differently, but never quite like this. clark feels every last bit of the sharpness in her glare, and it is as scary as it is thrilling. the feeling is all too new, and he almost has to keep from smiling as it rushes through him. golly, what a woman. " it's not? okay, well — " his urge to help was sincere enough, but held a fraction of selfishness too. he wants to be around her more, feel more of this thrill . . . which, coincidentally, would also keep him from the castle and his insurmountable responsibilities. not a bad bargain, if he would say so himself.
but before he can indulge in that dream any further, she gives him a direct order that feels downright military. the man's lips, which had been parted in the hopes of saying something close to clever, shut almost immediately as he surrenders into a single nod. still, he doesn't move. rather just watches her walk away instead, feeling deflated. on cue, his driver finds him just as his shoulders drop, and the clumsy man in thick glasses changes posture. standing to his full height, he greets his chauffeur solemnly and makes his way to the royal car. all the while, he looks out the window hoping to see her in her cab. half lovestruck, half avoiding thinking of what awaits him at home.
the homecoming is just what he expects it to be: overwhelming. the king is present in every corner of the castle, casting a shadow too large for his son to hope to see any shred of light. though the prospect of blinding flashes at a press conference do not make him any more optimistic. clark avoids the appointment like the plague, retiring to his quarters and shedding the mild mannered skin he'd been wearing out in the real world. grief surrounds him and threatens to swallow him whole — he manages to change into a proper suit, to look presentable as a prince would, but cannot bring himself to cross the threshold.
" please cancel it. send them my apologies, and some sort of gift basket — it is christmas, after all. " he tells his team, who are none too happy but cannot deny a royal request. besides, queen marta is not yet returned from her own obligations, thus her son has room for some liberties. gary, clark's trusted right hand, is the only one left with him after he dispenses with the others: " where is kara? " he asks at last, much more interested in reuniting with his cousin than any photographer's lenses. " she's at the gardens, your highness. waiting to meet her new tutor. " he is too quick to go down the route by himself.
the castle scenery doesn't land itself for romance, and thus the prince's thoughts have no room to wander back to that fiery lady from the airport. he is solely focused on making it to the gardens without being seen by any staff member who could drag him elsewhere when someone bumps into him. something that doesn't really happen within these walls, when he's in these clothes. somehow, he knows it's her before he even sees her.
and when he does, he thinks for a moment that his mind is playing tricks on him. yet when she speaks, he doesn't miss a beat: " oh, we have got to stop meeting like this. " a smile dances on his lips, his voice fuller than before, exuding a natural confidence he wouldn't allow himself to when in disguise. his eyes flicker to her clothes, noticing the change. " i see you had a sweater to spare. "
her question is pertinent. she shows no signs of truly recognizing him, so he quickly decides to keep up the charade. " i'm on my way to meet someone. " another question is quite pertinent: what is she doing here? clark perks up an eyebrow. " what about you? "
" you have got to start looking where you're going, " she returns, his smile not returned in the slightest. from her tone, it might seem that she still hasn't recognized him. she has. holy fucking shit. this is him ⸺ the man who's ruined her day thrice over by dragging her out to this snowscape, spilling a drink on her, and then skipping out on the entire reason she's here. she's losing her fucking mind about being fooled by a pair of glasses, but she cannot let onto that. lois narrows her eyes at the man. would he answer her questions now, since she has him cornered? coming back to metropolis with an exclusive on the irresponsible prince would certainly earn a spot on the front page.
the problem with that is that lois isn't sure if she could get through an interview without wanting to dump a cup of coffee on his head. how dare he stand there so smug.
" this is my only sweater, so don't get any ideas. " the only reason the edge in her voice softens is because she doesn't want to scare him off. she's debating pulling her press pass out of her sweater right now and setting in on the questions, but she hesitates at the thought of him having any kind of media training. if he knows what's good for him, he'll call security and have her removed.
so . . . lois does what lois does best. she improvises. " me too. " okay, give her a second, she's warming up. " i'm working, despite your best efforts. now if you'll excuse me⸺ "
that is a gamble, but clark kent is not the first man to smile at her like that. lois doubts he'll be the last. she thinks she'll try her luck.
wordlessly, he nods and does as he's told. clark takes the chair next to her and, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how close they are, barely moves his own chair as he adjusts on his seat. his eyes only linger on her for a split second before he shifts his focus to the screen, reminded of the job that needs to be done. the frown on his brow grows more prominent at each word she utters, though he hangs on to every last one of it. taking the paper she hands him, he begins putting the pieces of what she presents together. not only that, he's making mental notes of the addresses he sees on paper to visit later; perhaps under a different clothes.
though he also takes note of her choice of pen ( purple suits her just fine. the glitter? not his first guess. interesting. ) he is far too concerned by what she spins to actually make any remark about it. " it's strange indeed. " clark takes his time — approximately twenty seconds, as he isn't making much of a point to read at a nomal human speed — with the email, maps and reports before looking back up at her. " this says they're gonna be discharged tomorrow morning. "
he might've been off about the glitter, but clark's willing to be anything that lois plans to be there for when that happens. his eyebrows perk up, allowing for a hint of excitement. he too is a reporter, after all. " i take it this ten block radius is gonna be our first stop? "
" right. met gen's infectious disease protocol says that all patients with infections of unknown origin need to be quarantined for at least seventeen days. we need to find out what doctor signed off on this ⸺ and where they're going. if they're still contagious . . . " she doesn't think she needs to say, though she does frown at clark. sarah's still so little, and from lois has been able to piece together, her mom is hardly reliable. " i understand if you don't want to be a part of this. if this thing is airborne, it could put us at risk. "
and if she doesn't chase this down, it could put all of metropolis at risk. she tucks her pen behind her ear, wheeling her chair back from her desk. " that was my plan. so ⸺ are you coming? "
lois lane waits for no man, even if this one isn't so bad. she grabs her jacket, looking over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. it's more than she'd give most other people. she isn't surprised when he joins her ⸺ she's good at snap judgements, and clark seems to love the chase just as much as she. she thinks his eyes are a little brighter just thinking about what's at play. she isn't surprised, but she's pleased nonetheless.
" so ⸺ what's your plan? poke around, see if we see any weird fliers? " if this feels like a test, it is. not so much of his journalistic skills, but if he's prepared for her particular brand of crazy.
" thanks, " lucy mumbles, her back to lois. it's still too hard to look her sister in the eyes and admit she needs her. " for letting me stay with you. i think dad would actually have a heart attack if i spent another night there. i don't know how we survived eighteen years. "
@loisl4ne
lois always had a way of grounding him. she knows exactly what to do to pull him away from the dark, even without saying a thing. from the corner of his eye, he catches the inviting hand. clark looks up at her, blue eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. finding the will to smile, he curves his lips as he takes her hand. " that's all i need. " still holding her gaze, he brings their joined hands to himself and lays a kiss on top of hers. " i love you. " it never feels like he says it enough; words alone can't hope to express how deeply his love for her goes.
he wonders if she knows that she is what gets him through everything. soon, he would tell her outright. sometime when impending doom wasn't looming so near, with the power to make the confession sound eerie. finite. they don't need that right now.
" i'm just trusting that lex might love this world more than he hates me. " deep down, clark knows that to be true. he's read lex's book back to back, gotten insight on the way he thinks, on his search for progress and, well . . . " there's somethin' in his book, and i saw it in his eyes on that day he got taken — it wasn't until you nailed him with your article and made his public image crumble that he broke. lex seeks validation. he wants people to see him as the ultimate specimen. brainiac is a risk to our entire planet, to metropolis. if he helps me with this, he might just become a hero. i think it's what he really wants, lois. " a beat where clark shares a knowing look with her.
" doesn't mean i trust him. think we both know he'll try something, but i got a secret weapon he has no idea of. " his hand only untangles from hers so he can snake up his arm around her waist and pull her onto his lap. when she's closer, he feels lighter. " the great lois lane. if anyone can be twenty steps ahead, baby, it's you. "
" and i love you. " she still isn't used to how often he expresses it ( or that he says it to his parents, every time he hangs up the phone. ) she can count on one hand the number of times she heard it from sam growing up. boyfriends, girlfriends ⸺ lois might have said it once, in college, imagining that it might have been the real thing. it's safe to know she didn't know it until it smacked her in the face : when you know, you know. when you don't, you don't.
with clark, she knows. with clark, i love you is as easy as breathing. she doesn't think her heart will ever not stop when he kisses her hand. who knew lois lane was a romantic?
clark, apparently.
" okay. " okay. lois trusts lex about as far as she can throw him. she's certain that won't change, even if he helps clark save the world. but clark? clark, she trusts. her job is to plan and scrutinize so that he never has to see the worst in anybody. the world thinks they'll lose if superman dies. lois knows they'll lose if he forgets how to hope. " alright. so lex wants to be adored ⸺ " she can see that, heroics for show, more than she can believe in the man's ability to change. " we need to convince him this is a real threat. one you can't deal with alone. personally, i think he'll be happy enough to believe the latter, but the former . . . " she tilts her head to the side, thinking, though all her thoughts slip away as he tugs her into his lap.
there's a pause, one he should know well ⸺ one where she's deciding if she's going to stay put or offer an indignant clark, we're working. today, she stays. she decides they both need that. she presses a quick kiss to his cheek before she's back to work. " only if you let me concentrate, clark. " still, his flattery is rewarded with another kiss. she could get used to working like this. she has. " do you think argus would have a copy of whatever he found? the message? i'd rather not rely on him to tell us the whole truth. "
" no. when breha comes home, we're going to go out. would you like to join us? " he wishes breha was home now, though she insists that of the two of them, he is better at handling leia in these moods. it would be good to have the back-up. " what has he done? "
" yes. please. " there's some of her mother in her, after all. she sighs, leaning against the kitchen island. " uh, get with my mom? he's trying to be my dad again. and he's living in my house. can i stay here? "
oh, that's the big one! if there was a hole clark could hide his head in right now, he would. except for the fact that hiding his head away would mean being unable to look at her, so he'd probably pass on that. still! super sorry! could not be more enchanted mortified if he tried! boy, he has never seen eyes like hers before. they take on an impossibly fiery shade of purple when she's angry too. what a sight.
" miss, i'm truly — " the enchantment falters when confusion hits him before good manners can. " only shirt? what have you got in your luggage? " who travels with just one shirt? not the time, clark!
" look, if you need another shirt, i'm sure i can get you one! there's gotta be some sorta shop here, right? or, or — oh, i could get you money? " before he's taken by the urge to pull out his wallet and wave a handful of kryptonian bills on her face, he thinks better on it. " really, whatever i can do to make it up to you! i'm truly sorry this happened. i'm such a klutz. please let me help. "
" what? " she's looking at him like he's insane. how is what's in her suitcase important? is he trying to distract her? if he is, it's working. " that doesn't matter ⸺ "
the contents of one ms. lois lane's suitcase: mismatched pajamas, a very big jacket, a change of shoes, and a sweater for the ride home. in and out in forty-eight hours.
" the shirt isn't the problem. " why is she explaining this to him? all she wants is to get to her hotel room and change. lois holds up a hand, shaking her head. she doesn't have time for this, not now that she needs to go track down a new shirt. fuck!!! maybe she should take him up on his offer, but she's not in the business of letting strange men know where she's staying, especially if they're careless enough to bump into strangers at the airport. " walk away. "
with that, she's hailing a cab. she doesn't give the man so much as a second glance as she throws her suitcase in the back and climbs in. she barely has time to change into her sweater at the hotel before rushing off to the press conference, or so she'd thought. they delay it ten, twenty, thirty minutes. " i knew he wasn't going to show, " lois whispers to the reporter beside her. how many times had she told perry?! five minutes later, they cancel the conference entirely.
see why she only packed one shirt?
lois'll be damned if she goes home with nothing. see ⸺ she has a sneaking suspicion this is one of those live a little, lois stories they put her on whenever they realize she's been in the office forty days in a row. it's europe, it'll be fun ⸺ fun is chasing down a lead in metropolis, not anxiously refreshing the united app on her phone every thirty seconds to make sure all the snow hasn't canceled her flight. she could go, do a little sightseeing, have a drink at a pub, be gone by this time tomorrow. or . . .
lois ducks away from the rest of the press corps, making her way to the castle. she only plans on asking the guards a few questions ⸺ but there are none. so lois keeps going. and going. and going . . . until she turns a corner and practically bumps into someone.
not someone. of all people ⸺
" you, " she says. " what are you doing here? "
oh, boy. how does one navigate a well-intentioned redneck gift? clark struggles, of course. he inhales sharply and looks every bit as conflicted as he feels. he too can hear lois's voice in his head, though for him it's more a guiding light than anything terrifying. " it's not that i didn't like it, tal, it's just — well, i know you meant well, but it's a little much, dontcha think? you're giving away four by fours like they're teddy bears. " but jon is thrilled, and very little has really worked to thrill him as of late, so his parents decided to put their reservations aside this once. " but we are grateful, nonetheless. jon loved it, obviously. he'll write you some kind of thank you text soon. just please do not go over our heads to gift cars to our kids again, okay? that's a big purchase and we like to discuss this kinda thing beforehand. " a beat. " the italian villa is great, though. we're really enjoying that. " his smirk says it all. " so! tell me! how was your bizarro journey like? "
" i thought you'd approve, " he gives clark a nod. lois isn't here. he can get away with it. " too much? they're farm vehicles. it's not as if i bought them mclarens. " though he might be betraying his intentions for their high school graduation gifts with that statement. tal lifts a framed photo of the kents off the wall, examining it. he does not agree to clark's terms. " i'm sure that you do, " he says instead. clark's smirk is met with a raised eyebrow ⸺ and then one of his own. " good. i'm glad someone's making use of it. shame for it to sit there empty. " he'll spare clark his own tales of the villa ⸺ he's not sure his brother would survive them. " well ⸺ " he holds up his left hand, ring glinting in the light. "oh, it's not mine. more a little game we play. you didn't tell me the other me was married to lana lang. "
