mess of a dreamer

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Mat and Nikita call most nights that they're free. Mat will always fall asleep first no matter what, and Nikita won't hang up the phone until she knows he's asleep. Sometimes she doesn't hang up and will just listen to him breathing, it reassures her that he's alive, that she won't lose him, at least not tonight. 

༊*·˚ Mat and Nikita regularly make playlists for each other. Nikita always has the aux cord when they drive together. Mat claims he wants it one day but he never puts up a fight when she takes it from him, he doesn't see it as a battle worth winning. feat. some of his playlists

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Nikita paints Mat's nails, he has to beg her to paint them and eventually she caves and brings her nail polish to his apartment. He always chooses the brightest color.

༊*·˚ When she has rough days, Mat washes Nikita's hair. He spends around an hour doing it because of how slow he goes on purpose. He'll ramble to her whilst doing it, about a new theory, or the concept of alien planets, and she listens closely to him every time.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ The two of them can't play monopoly or any competitive board games because they argue every single time they play. 

like. fucking look at him and hes so happy and the moment he starts to worry that she doesnt love him anymore he's TERRIFIED

Fiyero isn’t the reason Gelphie couldn’t be together, Glinda was.

And it’s a tragedy, it really is, and it’s part of why Glinda’s character is so fascinating to me and I love her so much. But the amount of people who hate Fiyero simply because he’s a love interest who is male is crazy to me, especially when you consider that he represents to Elphaba what Glinda chose not to be for her.

Elphaba and Glinda will always love each other—which is part of why I’m so glad they added the “I love you” moment in the movie—but Fiyero chose her. And Glinda eventually chose her, too, but Fiyero did it first. And Elphaba loved him, too.

Meanwhile Fiyero's like

Fiyero: …

"imgonnagetyouback"

Author's note: Here is Chapter 3 (and Chapter 4 😉) of imgonnagetyouback! Sorry if it took a while, I was having a hard time writing Chapter 3. And so, as a compensation, I also wrote Chapter 4 heheng~~

PS: the link above is the link of Chapter 2 where the link of Chapter 1 is already attached so you can find them easily :))

--

Chapter 3

The next morning, Lois Lane arrived at the Daily Planet five minutes early, a rarity that immediately made Clark suspicious.

Clark looked up from his desk just in time to see Lois breeze in, coffee in hand, hair slightly windswept, cheeks flushed from the cold. And right behind her, like a very well-timed shadow, was of course Chase Grant.

“Morning, Lane,” Chase said, matching her stride with a grin that was way too bright for this hour.

“Grant,” Lois responded with a half-glare, half-smirk. “If you’re going to tag along, at least walk quieter. You clomp like a Clydesdale.”

Chase blinked. “A… what?”

“Big horse. Big.” She gestured widely. “Feet. Stompy. Keep up,” she said rolling her eyes, like what she always does to me before Clark thought. He watched the exchange with a tightening jaw. That was his kind of banter with Lois — the insults with affection tucked between the syllables. The sparks hidden beneath sarcasm.

Now it was Chase who got that.

Not him.

Lois caught Clark’s stare and quickly looked away, cheeks tinging pink. Chase smirked because he noticed, his eyes flicking between them with sudden, quiet interest.

“Morning, Kent,” Chase said.

“Chase,” Clark responded neutrally.

Then Lois shoved a file against Chase’s chest. “Come on, Grant, we’ve got interviews.”

“We?” Clark repeated, standing, before he could stop himself.

Lois froze, so does Chase.

Clark blinked, willing himself not to sound like he was interrogating her. “I mean... usually Tess assigns partners for—”

“I volunteered,” Lois cut in. “It’s fine.”

Clark nodded, trying to look casual while internally he felt like someone had yanked his heart sideways. Chase’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if putting one more piece of the puzzle in place.

“Let’s go,” Lois muttered to Chase.

And they were off, walking side by side, bickering lightly all the way to the elevator, the familiar Lois rhythm, now with a different partner.

And Clark hated it.

--

Lois pushed open the door of the press venue and immediately groaned when Chase bumped her shoulder.

“That was intentional,” she accused.

“It was proximity,” Chase shot back. “Try having spatial awareness.”

“Try walking without leaning into people like some rom-com lead.”

“I don’t lean,” Chase said, leaning.

Lois shoved him, hard.

Chase laughed under his breath. “You always this violent with coworkers, Lane?”

“Only the ones who annoy me, Grant”

“Oh good. So I’m special.”

Lois rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t entirely annoyed.

And from outside the venue, Clark Kent, camera in hand for backup shots, saw it too. He swallowed. This was supposed to be his spot next to her. His shoulder she shoved, his jokes she batted away, his space she filled with irritation and warmth. But now she kept him at arm’s length.

Except when Chase was around, then she kept Chase close enough to shove.

Clark lowered the camera and looked away, that simmering inside him rising again, slow and unwanted.

---

“Group dinner. No excuses.” Chloe was unstoppable when she wanted to be, which was why Lois, Clark, and Jimmy soon found themselves at a cozy booth at their favorite Metropolis diner.

Lois was already on her second drink. Jimmy and Chloe were glowing, finally healing and happy. Clark sat across from Lois, trying not to notice how she avoided meeting his eyes.

Conversation flowed easily until Chloe, without meaning to, dropped a verbal bomb.

“So, remember our wedding day?”

Lois choked on her drink immediately.

Jimmy perked up. “Oh boy.”

Clark froze.

Chloe continued, oblivious. “It’s wild thinking about how everything happened at once like Lana coming back, the explosion, all that chaos—”

Lois stiffened. Clark’s shoulders tightened, the memory a flicker of pain.

“And Clark,” Chloe went on, smiling at him warmly, “you were dealing with so much. Lana returning, the break—”

“Chloe,” Clark cut in, his voice gentle but edged.

She blinked. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” Clark said quickly, trying to steady the air before it cracked Lois in half. “It’s just… that was a long time ago.”

Lois stared into her glass, expression unreadable.

Jimmy, noticing the situation decided to spice things up. Maybe someone would grab the opportunity to saym something, directly or indifectly. “But Lana was, like… the Lana. I mean, you must still—”

“No,” Clark said immediately, both Chloe and Jimmy surprised with the amount of confidence and surety of his response. Lois didn't show any reaction, she refused to be on that position again -- the one where she thought they're finally moving towards something past friendships. But still, she watched Clark.

Clark held her gaze, steady, sincere, careful. “Some things… they’re like old photographs. Important when you took them. But eventually you put them in a box, because they don’t match the life you’re living anymore.”

Clark wished so hard that Lois could pick up what he meant, that he wasn’t talking for himself, but that he was talking to her.

But she looked away, shrugging lightly, “Good for you, Clark,” was what she said, like a good friend would say. Let's see once she comes back though, she willed herself not to let her intrusive thoughts win.

He swallowed. She didn’t believe him, or didn’t want to, he thought.

Chloe mouthed sorry at Clark. Jimmy sipped his milkshake loudly.

And then Jimmy, sweet, oblivious Jimmy, struck again.

“So, Lois,” he said brightly, “who’s this Chase guy you’ve been hanging around with?” he ashed as Lois was taking a sip of her drink. This caused Lois to choke violently, coughing and nearly spilling her drink.

Clark instantly reached out, steadying her elbow. “Lois, you okay?”

She swatted him halfheartedly. “I’m fine! I'm fine guys,”

Jimmy blinked. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“It’s not!” Lois said, voice cracking like glass. “Not," cough "serious, or anything. He’s just… a coworker. A coworker who is new. And annoying. And tall. And—”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Tall?”

“Shut up.”

Clark looked down at his plate, jaw tight.

Lois cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “Chase is just a guy who happened to be on my flight. And now he’s here. That’s all.”

Clark didn’t miss how her eyes darted away when she said it.

Chase didn’t miss it either, because at that moment he was entering the diner, spotting them by accident, and pausing at the door.

He watched Lois laugh nervously at Jimmy’s teasing, watched Clark watching Lois like she was the only person in the room, watched Lois pretend she didn’t feel Clark’s gaze burning through her barriers.

And Chase’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Ah, this is getting interesting, Chase thought, smirking, a plan in mind.

---

Lois stepped outside first, the night air cooling her flushed cheeks. Clark followed more slowly, clutching the leftover pie Chloe forced on him.

“Lois,” he called softly.

She turned, not meeting his eyes. “Clark… don’t. I’m tired.”

“I just wanted to say… you don’t have to avoid me.”

Lois stiffened. “I’m not avoiding you.”

He smiled sadly. “Lois, you haven’t called me Smallville except once by accident.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“I just…” she exhaled slowly, “I don’t want to make anything more complicated than it already is.”

Clark stepped closer, carefully and respectfully, but close enough for her to feel the sincerity.

“It’s only complicated,” he said gently, “if we pretend we’re strangers.”

Her breath hitched.

Before Lois could reply, a voice cut in.

“Lane.”

Lois turned. Chase stood there, hands in pockets, expression unreadable but eyes sharp.

Clark stiffened.

Lois blinked. “Chase? What are you doing here?”

“Was picking up takeout.” His gaze lingered on her, then slid to Clark. “Didn’t expect to see you two… like this.”

Clark’s jaw tightened.

Lois forced a smile. “Oh uhm, we had dinner with our friends. We were just leaving actually," Lois clarified. And Clark hated how Lois had to clarify that to Chase.

Chase nodded slowly, a knowing edge in his gaze. “Right. Good night then.”

He walked off, but Clark caught the look on Chase’s face.

He recognized something now.

Something about Lois and Clark that she was trying very hard to hide.

And Clark realized with a sinking weight... that he was running out of time before Chase, the charming and confident Chase, figured out everything Clark had only just begun to admit to himself.

Lois shoved her hands in her pockets. “I’m heading home, Clark. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, watching her walk away again.

Still slipping through his fingers.

Still calling him Clark.

Still not knowing that the photograph he boxed away…

…was because the picture he wanted now was of her.

Chapter 4

The bullpen had never felt so loud.

After two months of avoiding complicated feelings and even more complicated men, Lois Lane walked into the Daily Planet expecting a normal day. A sarcastic comment here, a spilled coffee there, mild existential dread sprinkled in between.

What she did not expect was Tess Mercer standing at the center of the newsroom like a redheaded thunderstorm.

“Lane, Kent, and Grant,” Tess barked. “My office. Now.”

Three heads snapped up at once, Lois freezing mid-sip, Clark straightening in his chair, and Chase closing his laptop with a grin sharp enough to slice tension.

Lois groaned silently. Here we go.

Tess didn’t wait for them to get comfortable before launching into the briefing.

“Metropolis has a new underground medical exchange. High-tech equipment, no traceable funds, and someone with serious resources backing it.” She gave Chase a look. “Your hospital connections might give us a lead. However—” she turned her gaze on Lois “—a source requested to speak only to a ‘couple.’ So two of you are going undercover, while the other one can try getting information from the other med personnels in the hospital," Tess finished.

Behind Lois, she felt the temperature spike. Clark stiffened. Chase perked up.

Tess continued, oblivious to the emotional minefield she’d just activated. “I don’t care which two of you pose as the couple. Choose quickly. And don’t destroy my newsroom in the process.”

She left the room without another word.

Three seconds of silence followed.

Then—

“I’ll do it,” Clark said.

“No way, Kent, I’m doing it,” Chase said at the exact same time.

Lois stared between them. “Oh goodness,” she muttered.

Clark crossed his arms. “I’ve known Lois for years. We already have a believable dynamic.”

Chase scoffed. “Sure, if the assignment calls for posing as estranged siblings,” he teased provokingly.

Lois nearly choked. Clark’s jaw tightened.

“And besides,” Chase continued breezily, “Lois and I have been getting close. We’ve worked together a lot recently. It makes sense.”

Clark’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve known her for two weeks.”

Chase smirked. “Quality over quantity, Kent.”

Lois interjected, “Hey, you two don’t have to fight—”

But Chase wasn’t done.

“And let’s be honest. Don’t you have a girlfriend somewhere? Wouldn’t she get jealous watching you pretend to be Lois’ boyfriend?”

The words hit Clark like a punch.

Lois felt it—saw the flicker of shock, then irritation, then something darker.

Clark stepped forward, voice low. “Chase. My personal life isn’t—”

“—anyone’s business?” Chase finished, tone deceptively light. “Funny, considering you make my business your business every time Lois and I talk.”

Lois winced. Okay. This is getting bad.

Clark’s voice sharpened. “If you think—”

“Hey!”

All three turned.

Oliver strode across the bullpen like he walked into bar brawls every day, which knowing Oliver, he probably did.

And he looked ridiculously handsome doing it.

---

Oliver raised a brow at the two men, each inches away from throwing a punch. “Did I interrupt a testosterone competition or is this a Planet team-building exercise?” he teased.

Before Clark or Chase could answer, Lois practically launched herself toward him.

“Oliver! Oh my goodness hi!” She threw her arms around him in a hug that was way more dramatic than necessary, "thank you came just right in time," she whispered before pulling away from him.

Oliver blinked. “Uh. Hello?”

Lois spun toward Clark and Chase, tightening her grip on Oliver’s arm like he was a flotation device. “You know what, boys? I think it’s best if Oliver and I go undercover. He can handle me as a girlfriend.”

Oliver, catching on instantly, smirked. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Lois tugged him toward the hallway. “Great! Settled! Behave you two,” she said. Clark and Oliver looked at each other, Oliver smirked because the last few words uttered by Lois were exactly the same words she said t him and Clark the first time they met.

Once they were safely out of sight, Oliver burst into laughter.

“Handle you as a girlfriend?” he repeated. “Wow, you must’ve been desperate.”

Lois groaned. “Desperate doesn’t even begin to—ugh!” She dragged her hands through her hair. “They were about to duel or something. Clark was two seconds away from heat visioning Chase.” She said dramatically, Oliver smirked, if you only knew, he thought.

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “So Clark was jealous?”

“NO,” Lois said instantly, and far too defensively. “He was just… being Clark.”

Oliver gave her a knowing look. “Right. And I go to board meetings for the coffee.”

Lois glared. He raised his hands in surrender but couldn’t stop smiling.

“So,” he said, “wanna tell me why you’re avoiding letting either of them play pretend boyfriend?”

Lois sighed, letting the weight settle. “Because… it’s messy. The whole thing. Clark’s acting weird. Chase is acting weirder. And I’m… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Oliver softened. “Lois. You don’t have to figure it out today. You just have to get through one undercover act without your life turning into a soap opera.”

Lois snorted. “With my luck? Impossible.”

Oliver chuckled and nudged her forward. “Come on, girlfriend. Let’s plan our date.”

---

Chase was the first to cut through the heavy silence. “Well,” he said with a low whistle, “that was dramatic.”

Clark didn’t respond. His eyes were still fixed on the hallway Lois and Oliver had vanished into, his jaw clenched.

Chase shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know she didn’t pick Oliver because she actually wanted him, right?”

Clark’s head snapped his way. “What are you talking about?”

Chase shrugged with infuriating calm. “She picked him because she didn’t want to deal with us.” He cocked his head. “Or rather… with you,” he teased.

Clark felt his pulse spike. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means Lois Lane doesn’t run unless something’s chasing her,” Chase said, voice smoothing into something almost knowing. “Or someone.”

Clark stiffened, not trusting himself to respond.

Chase started to turn away, but Clark stepped forward, “Hold on.”

Chase stopped on his track, raising a brow.

“Lois mentioned you and her met on the plane,” Clark asked, struggling for neutrality. “How did that happen?”

A slow smile pulled at Chase’s mouth. “You really want to know?”

Clark didn’t look away. “Yes.”

Chase decided to start executing his plan, half lie and half truth is not bad he thought. Hhase leaned casually against a desk, like he had all the time in the world. “She sat beside me, and I tried saying hi. She brushed me off. Completely..." typicall Lois, Clark though. "...but then turbulence hit, she grabbed my arm, and—” he shrugged, “after that, she let me talk to her.”

Something in Clark tightened, jealousy prickling sharp and unwelcome. Chase watched it with interest.

“You know,” he continued lightly, “she kept insisting she didn’t want to talk, but her eyes said something different. She was… distracted. Like her mind was somewhere else. Or someone else.”

Clark swallowed. “Lois doesn’t get distracted.”

“With most people? No.” Chase pushed off the desk, stepping closer. “But she does when she’s trying not to think about someone she actually cares about.” Clark, whether he admits or not, hates that he's able to read Lois like that.

“And honestly,” Chase added with a small, provoking smirk, “a woman like Lois? She deserves someone who’s sure about her. Someone who actually knows what he wants.”

Clark’s hands curled into fists.

Chase kept going, tone deceptively casual. “She’s too extraordinary to wait around for a guy who can’t figure himself out.” His gaze flicked over Clark, evaluating, challenging. “If someone wasn’t sure about her? I’d say they’re about one step away from losing her.”

Clark’s heart thudded hard and uneven.

“And if there were someone who was sure about her…” Chase let the sentence hang, his smile widening just enough— “…well. He’d be smart to take his chance.”

Clark’s breath froze. He knew exactly what Chase was implying.

Chase gave a small, polite nod, like they’d just discussed the weather. “Anyway. Thought you’d want to know how we met.”

He took a few steps away, then paused and looked back over his shoulder.

“Just a piece of advice, Kent,” he said softly. “Feelings don’t stay unspoken forever. Someone always says them first.”

Then he left Clark standing alone, pulse pounding, the hallway where Lois disappeared suddenly feeling much farther away.

And for the first time… Clark wasn’t entirely sure Chase Grant wasn’t going to go after her.

How anyone doubts Fiyero and his love is just insane. The man walked through a tornado to find his green girl wife some fierce and loyal protection. Saved her AGAIN from the Gale Force. He took the time to EXPLICITLY SAY: “Protect HER”. Reaffirming to everyone present of his love for Elphaba and thus confirming his intention to die for her safety. Held a gun to he’s ex fiancé’s head to buy her time to escape. In that 5 minutes of screen time he does more for Elphaba than anyone else in both films.

One of the most common things I hear from people who staunchly oppose Stancy getting back together is their assertion that "Steve and Nancy aren’t good for each other and have already proven that they don’t work as a couple”—a line that is constantly recycled to praise J*ncy, which they claim is the healthier relationship because Jonathan and Nancy “understand each other better” and interact in mature, productive ways.

To be quite frank, it’s genuinely concerning to see so many fans portraying J*ncy as this paragon of health and compatibility when you actually take the time to scrutinize their verbal interactions/behavioral patterns throughout the seasons. From there, it becomes glaringly obvious how Jonathan and Nancy exhibit prime examples of conflict-avoidant behavior and adopt passive-aggressive communication styles that fail to bring any true sense of resolution between them—a couple that consistently flees from internal conflict and avoids direct, honest communication with each other, bottling up their emotions and frustrations until they eventually explode and injure each other in the process.

Though this passive approach to conflict resolution may extend the longevity of a relationship (if we define “longevity” purely as a duration of time vs. a true reflection of the closeness between partners), it also fosters an environment in which sweeping problems under the rug is normalized rather than directly addressing them for the sake of strengthening a couple's bond. This never-ending cycle is then perpetuated, one where recurring issues become festering wounds that aren’t properly treated. The relationship is dragged out until everything that was good about it slowly corrodes over time. Resentment builds when partners no longer communicate and fail to address the root cause of their issues. What was once a genuine partnership gradually morphs into two people going through the motions without feeling any emotional attachment to each other—a relationship based on obligation and circumstance rather than love. Altogether, this attests to the perils of engaging in arguments without the intention of truly resolving problems, a toxic communication pattern that breeds emotional distance, misunderstanding, and underlying resentment. In contrast, maintaining an open dialogue allows partners a safe space to convey their struggles with emotional honesty, generating intimacy, appreciation, empathy, gratitude, and mutual respect between them.

"imgonnagetyouback"

Author’s note: Here is chapter 2 of imgonnagetyouback! Since it may be hard for you to find chapter 1 on my page, here is its link:

PS: idk how to post a story in ao3 so I will use tumblr as my primary medium of posting. I hope you guys like this and let me know your thoughts :))

—

Chapter 2

The bullpen was still buzzing after Chase Grant’s dramatic entrance, but Lois Lane heard none of it. Her ears were ringing too loudly with one word, moron!

Chase gave her a knowing little nod, the kind that translated to, relax, I’m not going to spill your in-flight confessions to the entire newsroom, but she didn’t trust that expression. No, not for a second.

Tess scanned the room then said, “Since Mr. Grant is new to Metropolis reporting, I want one of our senior staff to bring him up to speed. Show him the ropes, help him adjust to our workflow.”

Clark, the ever-righteous Clark Kent, took an instinctive half-step forward, but before he could open his mouth, Lois’ voice cut through the room, “I’ll do it.”

Clark froze mid-breath. “You… will?” The shock in his tone was an understatement, he was dumbfounded.

Dozens of heads swiveled toward her. Chase blinked, eyebrows raised, pleasantly surprised. Tess didn’t even try to mask her shock.

“Well, then” Tess said after she recovered from the shock, “that’s settled.”

Lois plastered on her brightest, fakest smile. “Welcome to the Planet, Grant.”

Chase grinned. “Looking forward to it, Lane.”

Clark stared at her like he was trying to solve a calculus problem. “Lois, are you sure? I mean, it doesn’t have to be—”

“It’s fine, Clark,” she said, pointedly not calling him Smallville. “Totally fine. Perfectly fine.”

Chase, unfortunately, picked up on the oddity immediately.

“Clark?” he repeated, glancing between them. “That what you call him now?” he teased.

Lois stiffened. Clark blinked, confused. And that was Lois’ cue.

“We’re leaving,” she barked, grabbing Chase by the elbow and dragging him toward the conference room, “Orientation time. Let’s go. Chop chop Grant!”

Chase followed, amused. Clark watched them go, jaw tightening after hearing that last familiar phrase Lois would always utter to Clark.

When the door shut behind them, Lois spun around, “Listen very carefully,” to which Chase raised both hands. “Should I be scared?”

“Yes,” she said flatly. “If you say one thing — I mean ONE — about the plane, I swear I will bury you under the archives room where even the cockroaches don’t go.”

Chase chuckled. “Relax, Lois. I’m not going to mention your metaphorical farm boy.”

“Good,” was what Lois only said.

He leaned against the table, he just can't pass the opportunity to tease one Lois Lane, “Though you should know, I didn’t orchestrate this.”

“Oh please. You expect me to believe you just happened to show up in my newsroom?”

Shrugging, Chase answered “I applied for the job months ago. Tess called me two days ago with an opening. You being here is a bonus.” He gave her that infuriatingly smooth smile again. “And I didn’t even know your last name.”

Lois blinked.

"You didn’t?”

“Nope. You introduced yourself as Lois. No Lane. No Daily Planet. No Pulitzer-candidate aura.”

She swallowed, now feeling slightly stupid. “Oh.”

“But now,” Chase said, “things make a lot more sense.”

Lois folded her arms. “Nothing from the plane leaves this room.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“You don’t know that.”

She groaned.

---

Couple days had passed and Clark noticed immediately.

Because Lois Lane had always called him Smallville. In irritation. In fondness. In habit. In everything in between.

But now? It's always, “Clark, hand me that file.” or “Clark, we’re late.” or “Clark, not now.”

Every time she said his first name, she flinched, subtly, but enough for Clark to see it. Of course he would see it, he knows her.

And every damn time Lois calls her Clark [and not the nickname he once hated but grew fond of being called by one Lois Lane], Chase was within a ten-foot radius.

Clark didn’t know why, but that pattern sank its claws into him more than he wanted to admit.

Chase, meanwhile, took to the bullpen like he'd been born in it. He was charming, fast-thinking, and irritatingly good at making Lois roll her eyes, just like what Clark has been good at doing for years.

“Seriously, Grant?” Lois said one afternoon, snatching a draft from his hands. “You spell-check with your eyes closed?”

“They’re beautiful eyes, though,” Chase said with a grin.

“Not relevant,” she shot back.

Clark’s jaw tightened from his desk.

Because that was his dynamic with Lois. The bickering, the sparks disguised as arguments, that belonged to them!

He tried not to watch but he failed. Whenever Lois pretended not to hear something Chase said, whenever she stifled a smile, whenever she nudged Chase with the same exasperated shove she used to give him…

Clark felt it.

A slow simmering burn.

And then there was the coffee machine incident. Clark approached the machine just as Lois and Chase were already there. Chase held two cups.

“Black, two sugars?” he asked Lois.

“That’s Clark’s order,” she snapped, a little too fast.

Clark’s heart stuttered.

Chase blinked. “Oh, my bad.”

Lois grabbed her own cup and muttered, “I take mine however I want to take mine.”

Clark’s lips quirked. “That so?”

She glared at him, cheeks pink. “Don’t.”

Clark took a sip of his coffee. “Didn’t say anything.”

But his eyes said everything.

Chase looked between the two of them and smirked and Clark so hated that smirk.

---

Clark Kent prided himself on being calm under pressure. Alien invasions? Manageable. City-wide disasters? Red and Blue Blur saves the day. Two reporters bantering over coffee? Normally harmless.

But Lois Lane avoiding him like he was made of kryptonite dust? Plus another guy getting under her skin the same way he used to That was, new, unwelcome, and honestly, kind of torture.

Clark watched Lois from his desk as she leaned over Chase’s shoulder, pointing sharply at a paragraph on his screen.

“No, Grant, burying the lede isn’t a stylistic choice. It’s a crime.”

Chase chuckled. “You say that like you’ve never done it.”

“I don’t do crimes. I expose them.”

Clark smirked. Always has the last words, he thought. He tried to refocus on his article, but his eyes kept drifting back to them. But if he be honest, that’s what irritated him the most, how natural Lois' and Chase's rhythm was. Tsk, their names being mentioned together do not even sound pleasing, he pettily said in his mind.

But he recognized it. That was their rhythm. Clark and Lois, Lois and Clark. From before everything got complicated. Before the wedding. Before Lana. Before the hurt. Before Lois left for Star City to accompany Jimmy.

He remembered the parking lot conversation before Chloe’s wedding, the way she’d looked at him, cautious but open, the way she let him in without realizing she was doing it.

And then he’d messed it up. He. Had. Just. To. Mess. It. Up.

He’d broken something he didn’t even know they were building.

And now, he's watching Lois, laughing lightly at something Chase said, laughing in a way she hadn’t laughed at Clark in weeks.

And there it was again, that simmering inside him. He refused to call it jealousy. Because jealousy implied Lois belonged to him. She didn’t. Not then, not now, but he wouldn't want it to be not forever.

But the feeling was still there. A knot in his stomach every time Chase made her smile and a pressure in his chest whenever Lois called him “Clark” instead of “Smallville.”

He missed that nickname more than he’d ever admit. Smallville meant he mattered to her in a way no one else did.

Now she wouldn’t even say it in front of Chase. Clark wasn’t stupid. He noticed the pattern instantly.

Lois was hiding something. Something that had to do with that plane. Something that made her stiffen every time Chase was around him. Something Clark wasn’t part of. And he hated that most of all.

The bullpen had gone silent. Chase had left. The night crew had clocked out. It was finally just the two of them.

Lois typed furiously, pretending she didn’t notice Clark walking toward her desk with that determined stride she recognized too well.

“Lois?”

She stiffened. “What is it Clark?” she asked, without lifting her eyes to look at him.

Even her voice had walls now, he lamented.

Clark winced but pushed on. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.”

“But we do,” he said, gesturing toward the empty room. “It’s quiet. No distractions," a pause, "No Chase," he uttered quietly.

Clark caught how Lois’ eyes twitched at the name. She sighed and stood abruptly, grabbing her coat, “Five minutes. That’s all you get.”

They walked to the far windows overlooking the city’s glow, neutral ground, the unspoken Lois-and-Clark negotiating table.

Clark exhaled. “How did you two meet? You and Chase,” he started.

Lois blinked at the unexpected question. “Seriously?”

“Lois, he knew you. Before he walked in here. Before Tess introduced him. And you’ve been… weird around him... and me. So I just want to know what happened.”

Lois rubbed her temple with a sigh. “He was just bothering me on the plane, okay? That’s it.”

“Bothering you?”

“That’s all you need to know.” Too fast. Too sharp. A dead giveaway.

Clark studied her, concern tightening his brow. “Lois, if he made you uncomfortable—”

“He didn’t,” she cut in quickly. “He was just, talkative,” then she forced a dismissive wave. “End of story.”

Clark didn’t buy it for a second. But he knew Lois. He knew that if he pushed, she’d bolt. Hence he shifted, eyes softening.

“Lois… about Chloe’s wedding—”

“Nope.” She stuck a finger out immediately, practically stabbing the air. “We’re not doing this.”

“We need to talk about it.”

“No we don’t.”

“Lois.”

She froze, jaw tight, bracing herself.

Clark lowered his voice. “You left to attend Jimmy. And when you were there, you never called me. I had to get updates from Oliver. And when you came back… everything was different. And then Lana—”

“Clark,” Lois cut in fast, louder this time, “I’m sorry.”

He blinked. “What?”

“For your—” she made a vague gesture between him and the air around them, “breakup. Again. For the thousandth time. Chloe told me what happened.” Deep inside, Lois knew she needed to cut off whatever Clark would've to say about Lana because she does not trust herself and she doesn't trust her lacrimal glands in not producing tears with whatever she would've heard from Clark.

Clark’s stomach knotted. Lois offered a small, sympathetic smile, the kind she reserved for real hurt. “Hey… I know it sucked when Lana came back and then things fell apart. But you’ll be okay. You guys always find your way back.”

Clark’s heart dropped, “No, Lois—”

She laughed suddenly and punched his arm in that teasing, familiar way of hers. “That’s what you thought before, Smallville.” It was too late when Lois realized the words that came out from her mouth.

The nickname slipped out so naturally she didn’t even catch it. But Clark did, for the first time in a couple of weeks, she called him Smallville.

His breath hitched. A smile, nvoluntary, warm, and hopeful tugged at the corner of his mouth. Lois froze when she saw it, gulping down the lump in her throat.

Then rolled her eyes. “See? There you go. Smiling again. Just be patient.”

Patience. The worst possible advice for the wrong situation.

Because she didn’t understand. She didn’t realize. She still thought Lana was the reason behind his sadness.

When the truth was standing right in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes.

Clark opened his mouth. “Lois, that’s not what I—”

But she bulldozed right over him again, stepping forward without even realizing it. The general's advice kicking in, always have the upper hand.

“And seriously, Clark, thank you,” Her voice softened, all teasing gone, “for saving Chloe. For being there when it mattered most. I never got to tell you that.”

She was close now, close enough to hug him. Her hand twitched at her side, like her body moved instinctively toward him.

Clark held still, breath catching. But Lois stopped abruptly, something flickering in her eyes. A sudden, sharp memory of the way his smile a moment ago had twisted something deep in her chest.

Instead of the hug she clearly almost gave, she smiled at him, lifted her hand and just rubbed his arm gently. A ghost of contact. A safe distance.

“Really,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Clark swallowed, overwhelmed, “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I do.” She stepped back, wall sliding right back into place. “Anyways… it’s late. I should head home.”

He nodded, even though he hated watching her slip away again. Slip, goodness he hated that word.

Lois walked toward the exit, pushing the glass door open. Clark lingered behind, hands in his pockets, mind spinning.

But then, Lois stopped in the doorway. Clark saw her freeze, shoulders tensing. Then he saw why, Oliver Queen stood waiting just outside the bullpen. Hand in pocket, suit immaculate, smiling at Lois.

Clark’s chest tightened as Lois stepped out to meet him. Oliver greeted Clark and he greeted back. He knew the two were friends regardless of their history.

The glass door shut between them, Lois’s silhouette framed beside Oliver’s as they walked down the hallway together.

The idea that even Fiyero's most noble sacrifice, his bravest, purest, biggest act of love for Elphaba could be twisted and turned into yet another thing that adds fuel to the fire of the ozians' hate for Elphaba... I'm not ok