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Random thoughts. idk i'm bored. the ending might be cringeeeee. someone send me asks my inbox is so quiet...jk there's loads of requests...but still...?
Mentions of smut, mdni! <33
Clark Kent who was a stuttering mess trying to ask you out, too oblivious to see your heart eyes around him.
Clark Kent who took you on four dates before kissing you, and another three before asking to be your boyfriend. He later admits he’s wanted to kiss you since the day you dropped all your paperwork in front of him, your first day, 16 months ago.
Clark Kent who sleeps with you on the night of your two month anniversary. He wanted it to be romantic, and he wanted it to be fully your idea, no pressure!
Clark Kent who is soo vocal in bed. You feel so so so good and he’s been waiting so long he just has to tell you how good he feels.
Clark Kent who wholeheartedly believes in aftercare, which honestly lasts longer than the sex. He runs baths, gets you a drink, a snack, changes the sheets, gets you some comfy pjs (his boxers and an old college shirt)
Clark Kent who starts getting very bold once you have sex, because once you’ve started, he can’t get enough.
Clark Kent who loves pinching your ass as you walk by, only to look completely innocent when you whip your head towards him.
Clark Kent who gets you flowers every Sunday without fail.
Clark Kent who loves picking you up whenever he can, over the shoulder, up against his chest, in his arms, he just loves holding you!
Clark Kent who never lets you plan a single date, ever! It’s either dinner at the restaurant you like, the museum, the movie theatre, a picnic, dinner at his place, a weekend away.
Clark Kent who tells you he’s Superman almost immediately because he can’t keep a secret from you. He’s riddled with guilt and loves you too much to lie to you.
Loves you?…Wait what!?
Oh yeah!
Clark Kent who tells you he loves you two nights after becoming your boyfriend. He just can’t keep it in! And bonus, he’s lucky you love him too.
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no but im so tired of how self-deprecation is always more accepted than self-advocacy. if i say i can't drive because im autistic i get questioned on how exactly that works and given a million suggestions on how to do it anyway and i look like im trying to be special so it's easier to just say im a loser. yeah i don't drive because im kind of a loser lmao. oh well. and people say lmao back and we move on. at worst they say "oh im sure you'll figure it out haha." but no interrogation!! being a loser is more respectable than being disabled. being a loser is something that doesn't make other people feel uncomfortable about their own biases. so no, no im not disabled. i don't struggle to keep friends and do the laundry and make quick trivial decisions and clean my room and brush my teeth because im autistic. it's because im a loser. it's my fault. it is what it is. at least im funny now. do you think im funny? please think im funny
Yall i hate fathers. Like why the hell is this grown ass man texting me right when im trying to have my downtime to go to sleep and saying some bullshit about how he shouldn’t have had kids and that im a shitty person.
Like girl if i want to ignore your texts because its always some bullshit…then i’m going to ignore you like come on now.
I hate men and its probably because i never had a good male figure in my life.
If you rewatch the episode where Matt takes a bullet for Fisk, watch Dex’s reaction to hitting Matt, and then taking out those AVTF guys for him in s2 as an apology
dex just wants matt to like him so bad lmao he was like don't worry i'll kill the guy we both hate that made me kill your friend <3 oh shit you got in the way ): it's okay i'll kill a bunch of other bad guys for you so you can take the night off <3
people who don't experience hyperfixation don't know what it feels like to hyperfixate so much on something that it becomes not only your subject of obsession but also your source of happiness and literally the main reason why you still keep going; literal source of strength and life.
shoutout to my favorite fictional characters, favorite people, favorite ships, favorite movies, favorite tv shows, fanfics and archive of our own
I love talking with neurotypical people about my executive dysfunction because I'm like "yeah there's this invisible wall in my head that I'm incapable of getting past no matter what I do and it stops me from doing things" and they're like what the actual fuck
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What I feel people frequently forget about autistic special interests is that they aren't always information based. They may simply be visual or mental
Someone may have a special interest in a show, but instead of that meaning that they will talk about that show often, it may mean they watch that show extremely frequently.
Special interests are ways of regulating, not simply encyclopedias we have in our heads. Sometimes it's watching something frequently. Maybe only listening to one genre of music, maybe it's a collection, maybe it's an action. I'm tired of it only being seen as autistic people's personal encyclopedias
silly!ddba!dex coming home from a long day, stumbling into your shared apartment.
He has already taken off his mask, his hair poking left and right, slicked with sweat. His boots are caked with dirt while his suit is covered in soot, rainwater, and someone’s blood.
When his eyes land on you, a wide, unapologetic grin is plastered across his face as he struts into the living room, devoid of the exhaustion hidden beneath his muscles. A successful mission, you assume.
“Baby, you’re not gonna believe what I pulled off tonight,” he chirps, his voice brimming with excitement, hands quickly unfastening the gear straps. “See, the guy was running, yeah? He looked funny as hell, I almost felt sorry for him. Then I took a–”
“Dex,” you say softly, eyeing the trail of muck on the floor.
He freezes mid-sentence, fingers wrapped around the strap across his chest. “Yeah?”
“Step off the rug.” Your tone is completely relaxed, though no less stern. “I just cleaned it this morning, and you’re dragging mud everywhere.”
No one out there would believe Bullseye, the terrifying, ruthless reaper, is completely tamed at home. A deadly guard dog is still a needy pup at heart when it comes to you. In short, your wish is his command.
His shoulders slump a little, the grin pulls down to a pout as he pedals back to kick his heavy boots off by the door. He shrugs off the straps, making a whole show of tossing them onto the coffee table.
“You’re no fun,” he grumbles, sinking onto the couch next to you, soaked suit on and everything. The mess usually drives him up the wall, but the need to be near you overrides everything else.
He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you like an octopus while he breathes you in. The clean scent of your soap is a sharp contrast with the damp scent of smoke and blood that clings to him, something that never fails to calm the buzzing static in his head.
“Party pooper,” he whines playfully, soft lips grazing your collarbone, scooting in so close that he almost climbs into your lap. “I was good. I didn’t kill those assholes in front of the cops like I wanted to. Don’t I get a kiss for being good?”
You turn your head to look at him, eyes dancing with amusement. “You want a reward for the bare minimum?”
“Always,” he says. The sulky puppy act drops in a heartbeat. “C’mon. Kiss. Now.”
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