Do not use pore strips or any of those pore-pulling masks you see fascinatingly satisfying videos of on Twitter… I know it looks fun, and I know it seems like you’re really *deep cleaning* your skin, but you’re actually doing much more damage than you realize and I don’t want that to happen to your beautiful faces!!
Pore strips and any other kind of pore-clearing masks and pads work by adhering to your skin and to the dirt and grime in your pores and pulling them out. Hard. Once you peel the strips or adhesive mask off, you look down and see all the nasty little buds of absolutely gross-ness you just pulled out of your face and you probably think “Boy, that’s a deep clean!”
No. Please, please, please no. Be gentle and caring to your face and skin. When you apply these strips and masks, and tear them off your gorgeous face, you’re irritating your skin, stretching your pores (to potentially irreparable damage and these extra-open pores can get INFECTED…gross…), and could even be causing broken capillaries (which BTW require laser treatments to remove ): ). All in all, these treatments are really really bad for your skin and I don’t want any of you to hurt your amazing faces!!!
Please be gentle and loving to your skin, it’s the only skin you have. If you’re struggling with blackheads or sebaceous filaments, my go-to product is the Holika Holika Pig Nose Massage Gel. Seriously the pores on my nose are like…. 40% smaller after one treatment! Find it here.
Miscellaneous Clark Kent headcanons as relate to my little fic universe, that may or may not ever come up because who knows:
Little Clark was really susceptible to childhood superstitions for some reason. He didn’t go under ladders, he did the salt over the shoulder thing, he did not fuck with that Bloody Mary shit like NOPE I’M OUT THIS SLUMBER PARTY IS CANCELED, LANA GET OUT OF MY HOUSE AND TAKE YOUR MURDER GHOSTS WITH YOU. He believes that he is over this as an adult but whenever his foot is about to fall on a crack in the sidewalk it actually stops like a half inch above the ground and hovers there. He does not notice he is doing this. No one notices, ever, because it is the weirdest subtle unconscious thing in the world. At least Martha’s back is safe?
I covered the picky eater thing in Christmas in Kansas but to be more specific his tastebuds are just really sensitive to certain chemical compounds? Not just in terms of things he won’t eat but also in terms of things that he expects to be there and he doesn’t really like foods that lack those things. Your two options to make him eat anything are to cover it in sugar, or cover it in garlic.
He goes through a lot of breathmints. Can you imagine if Superman saved someone and they were like “man i appreciate being alive but he had some really bad garlic breath”? He would be so horrified.
He has a ratty, fucked-up old shirt that he wears whenever he is making pasta with red sauce. Even Superman cannot stand against the ability of red sauce to end up on whatever you happen to be wearing. HE WAS SO CAREFUL THIS TIME, HOW DID A STAIN END UP ON HIS BACK THAT JUST MAKES NO SENSE. Clark Kent’s weaknesses: kryptonite, tomato stains.
His ability to perfectly imitate anyone’s voice was one of the first things to manifest themselves, but this wasn’t the kind of thing anyone noticed was weird. It definitely didn’t seem like a power. He was just a small child who could do a really good Kermit the Frog. He sang Rainbow Connection at a middle school talent show and all the moms cried.
He definitely has a playlist to cheer himself up and get pumped and it has Eye of the Tiger and You’re the Best on it. Probably also half the Top Gun soundtrack.
Clark Kent’s twitter is pretty standard snarky newsman except with more farming memes. No one can tell how ironic the farming memes are. They might not be ironic at all. Clark Kent might be really sincere, or he might just be so ironic that he has circled back around into sincerity. No one knows. He’s also really good at that thing where you retweet two things from a person that side-by-side reveal they are a dingus. I don’t know if there’s a word for that.
His Snapchat is all dogspotting, with occasional rare dance breaks. He’s a pretty good dancer since he found those YouTube tutorials. He does this thing with his hips that Lois finds deeply upsetting for reasons she cannot articulate.
Jimmy asked Clark how he got so fit once and Clark was like “uh, farming. farm. eyup.” But he kept pressing for deets and Clark ended up just telling him that he’d pulled a Milo of Croton??? He lifted a newborn calf over his head and then just did that every single day until he was lifting a cow over his head. Jimmy knows nothing about farming or cows or physical fitness and this seemed plausible enough to him.
He has a blog where he posts rejected articles and it is the wonkiest thing in the entire world because that is why they got rejected. Perry takes one look at these articles and is like “it will take more words than I want to pay you for just to explain the setup for this article and also there are five people total who care, in the world, including you”
He has to be really careful when he buys clothes because he needs to make sure that they aren’t too tight and he has full range of motion. He does not want to relive The Skinny Jeans Incident. Shirts that say ‘I flexed and the sleeves fell off’ are only funny until it happens to you, then they are just horrible reminders. Popped seams everywhere. There is no way to explain that without looking like a huge tool.
Even when Superman has a really shitty day he keeps it together until he gets home, but then he shuts the balcony door and peels off his costume and Clark does the Tina Belcher groan for like ten minutes while he takes a shower because he got covered in sewer mutant or space crab or god knows and UUUUUUUUUUGH. Fortunately the nice older lady in the apartment next door always seems to know when he has had a shitty day and she brings him pie.
She can hear his melodramatic bullshit from over at her place, that’s how she knows. They share a bathroom wall and it practically echoes. If she times it right he will answer the door before he has put a shirt on because he doesn’t want to leave her waiting in the hall. She does not know what his day job is and it definitely does not occur to her that he is Superman because her primary interaction with him is that he acts like a whiny bitch and she brings him pie so she can ogle him. She is a simple woman who enjoys life’s simple pleasures.
The Kryptonian language is really complicated in terms of tonality, context, word order, musicality, etc, and the written language reflects that. Things like the order things are in, how things overlap, colors, etc, are all important. So basically I really like the idea of his symbol being one that represents his family name and says that he is of the House of El. It’s really just basically his last name.
If Starfleet gets to have replicators then Krypton gets to have replicators and Jor-El definitely stuck one in the ship so his son would have, you know, food and clothing. But only Kryptonians can use their tech because they’re who the neural interface is designed for so whoops they got real lucky that Kryptonian babies love milk from Earth goats. Clark only started using the replicator later but it only knows how to make Kryptonian things and only some of those are useful to him.
Okay so here is where I tie those last two bullet points into something fucking dumb that you will take out of my cold dead hands: Clark got the costume out of the replicator. It didn’t necessarily understand what he wanted though? Like, the concept of a costume didn’t really translate, but it got the idea that he wanted an active uniform, so that is what it made. It’s brightly colored and has his last name on the front. Clark is wearing a Kryptonian football jersey is what I’m getting at. Later Kara will be VERY confused by this. Imagine ending up on an alien planet and meeting your cousin and he’s been fighting crime dressed like a quarterback.
Most telepathy does not work because different neural patterns. Diana can only manage it if she uses her lariat and even then it’s like trying to lasso a freight train that does not stop. It’s extremely disorienting. J'onn has just accepted that Superman can hear him but he’s not going to get anything back. It’s like the psychic equivalent of a dial tone for him. He’s trying to call his bro but their family has dialup. He tries not to fuck with it because he doesn’t want to poke around in Superman’s head blind and break something.
Clark can’t type with super speed because he’ll break the keyboard and the computer can’t keep up. Instead he uses shorthand along with a custom set of AutoHotKey macros and it is honestly infuriating how fast he can get things written with this setup. But also if he doesn’t have AutoHotKey on whatever he’s typing with then sometimes Lois will get an email like: ll] dyk f pw mde a dec wrt t $l stry? ]ck
A woman was told by her therapist to try talking to at least one person once a week but she decided to cheat by just talking to her empty apartment under the guise of telling Superman about her day because lol he can hear everything allegedly so this definitely counts and is what the doctor was going for with this. When she has to go to the hospital for a medical emergency she comes home and there is a note on her counter wherein Superman explains that he was worried because he hadn’t heard from her in a while, so he swung by to check on her. When he found out what happened he watered her plants and fed her goldfish and also that cat that he thought might be hers (she does not have a cat). She is completely mortified because she was just being full of shit she did not actually believe he could hear her oh god what all did she even say and whose cat is this???
Look if you are in Metropolis and you loudly say HEY SUPERMAN there is a very good chance he will hear it even if he doesn’t mean to. He is not trying to eavesdrop, that’s just what happens when you yell someone’s name in earshot.
He doesn’t wear the costume under his clothes because you may have noticed a running theme here where the universe is conspiring to ruin his clothes and leave him running around shirtless all the time. I mean thank god for the rest of us but he would rather not risk someone spilling their drink all over him somehow and suddenly his shirt is transparent and you can see the big S. It’s bad enough when it happens under ordinary circumstances. How often can one man get drinks spilled all over him? You would be shocked. Shocked. His eyes are up here, Lois.