#clown club mail
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I'm just a little guy and I wish demand to be treated as such.
#please somebody tell that to my workplace#I work at#you know maaayyyybe that's not a good idea to share that#Hi X with regards to my last e-mail please take into account that the sender of this message is what's commonly known as “just a little guy”#in light of that any further communication should be sent to the following e-mail address: [email protected]#please be aware that the apparent profanities in the e-mail address are in reality company-wide acronyms#whose meanings you can find at our website https://www.FU.ubaboon.CUMpany.com#In case of further questions please do hesitate to contact me#Worst regards#aka Insencerely - Katsy the Local Clown at Capitalism Ltd.#work#anti work#antiwork#fuck work#workplace#work culture#do nothing#do nothing club#work is hell#work issues#work is killing me
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Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.
So... yesterday was quite the day.
After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.
My to-do list...
Go to the doctor
Vote early
Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy
Return Amazon package to the UPS store
Get gasoline for my whip
Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free
Drop a check off for my lawn guy
Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office
It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.
So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.
As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.
Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.
When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.
So it's like this private/public turducken situation.
I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.
But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.
As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.
And a particular one caught my eye.
This is bullshit.
Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.
Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...
"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."
They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."
This is how their online flyer puts it...
It could also include a free puppy.
Or a zillion bucks.
Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.
It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.
The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.
It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.
His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.
The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.
Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.
Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.
I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.
Just one.
And she sucks.
Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.
Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...
So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"
At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.
And then she finishes her sentence...
"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."
Ah, dammit.
I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.
If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.
I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.
But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.
It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.
It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.
But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.
So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.
My biggest concern was time.
The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.
They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.
So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.
I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.
I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.
It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."
But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.
My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.
After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."
I get up and start walking to the end of the line.
Then I hear a voice yell out to me.
"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"
A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.
I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...
"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."
He suggested my idea!
Without me asking!
I felt like he read my mind or something.
Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?
"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."
And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."
The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.
So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.
That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.
And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.
I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.
And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.
As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.
I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.
But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.
My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.
I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."
They seemed confused by my joke.
"No problem, man. Happy to help."
I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...
I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."
As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.
I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.
It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.
Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.
My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!
And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.
Yep, that seems about right.
Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.
Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?
I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.
I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.
I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.
I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.
I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.
I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.
On my way out I noticed a miracle.
2 of the 4 doors were fixed!
I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.
And then... I drove home.
5 hours of errands.
I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.
The End
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Modern Dedication (Draft)
Yandere Gotham x M!reader
Warning: these fanfic are gonna be for freaks by freaks. Also bad spelling and punctuation - this was posted for I can weed out anything unnecessary.
(Y/n) pulled a pack of Marlboros from inside his suit pocket. “Cigarette?”
A person was by his desk with a body of a battle axe and a cape that pools like a melted candle - Batman. chitty chitty bang bang, Batman. “The Joker, where is he?
(Y/n) struck the cigarette in his mouth, disinterested, “I’m not his keeper, babes.”
“A week before he escapes, the only outgoing mail he sends is addressed to you.” He said, and threw a stack of letters on (Y/n)’s desk - unintelligible and informal.
It was hardly evidence of anything. It only stressed that (Y/n) is one of the few who put up with the Joker’s insanity and Batman knew it. He had a sinking suspicion, Vengeance came for a different reason.
Quite foolishly, (Y/n) asked “Is a client not allowed to talk to their lawyer?” As his cigarette smoke blew over his shoulders like a locomotive.
"Your client is about to commit a crime. Legal confidentiality doesn’t protect you here.” Of course like all things that had to do with the Joker, the letters were incriminating.
Resigning himself, (Y/n) crossed his legs and pinched the bridge of his nose, “And you want me to...”
“Find him. He responds to you.” His voice held a slightly accusatory tone.
“Gross. Why’d you phrase it like that?”
“(Y/n).” Batman studied him with steal eyebrow only given to seasoned detectives. (Y/n) could practically feel Batman’s palpating anger.
Truthfully, (Y/n) didn’t find his particular reason a big deal, people die everyday whether from a stroke or strangulation from a clown. However, he knew Batman roughly cared and that was enough to throw a dog a bone.
“Alright, Alright.” (Y/n) held up a conciliatory palm. He reached for a pen in a cup on his desk and wrote laboriously on a note sheet; 50 W 33rd St. The ink was still wet and the hand writing, masculine.
He gave the note to Batman. “It’s a strip club” (Y/n) said “He goes there sometimes to blow off steam.”
(Y/n) unceremoniously tacked on, “You’ll like it there. They have big chested hard bodies that you can bury yourself in.”
Rather violently, Batman fisted his tuxedo in his hands. (Y/n) could hear his chair crackle underneath the weight. “You’re revolting. People are going to die.”
(Y/n) tried to animate his face in symphony. “Like that shit heel, Jason, did?”
That seemed to get him. Batman lunged his fist forward so hard and fast, (Y/n) felt his broad latex knuckles hit the back of his brain. His head dipped in a thunderbolt of pain with his broken nose and busted lip and a fury on his tongue,
“Fuck! You ass-“
(Y/n)’s frenzied sentence cut off jaggedly as Batman knuckled deep into his lapel once more and smashed their lips together in a ferocity that always seemed to always catch (Y/n) off guard.
Batman has always been restrained and aloof, a caution that comes with being vigilante. But now, from this close, (Y/n) could see the way Batman’s muscles worked, the flex of his shoulders - not out of shyness nor shame, but desire that only his skin could keep inside.
When they parted with hot and heavy breath, Batman, acutely missing (Y/n)’s cocaine tint tongue, said, “You owe it to me to find him.”
And, (Y/n), utterly dazed, licked his bloodied lip and said “You know how to keep a man wanting, bats.” then dipped his head in for another kiss.
The way Batman’s tongue lapped at the sliced skin of his bruised lip - (Y/n) knew he was a man possessed.
#batman#yandere#yandere batman#bruce wayne#yandere dc#yandere batfam#batfam#x male reader#male reader#x reader
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rigby (regular show) & borderline personality disorder
(a post by someone with a b.a. in psychology)
tw: abuse, neglect, suicide
what is borderline personality disorder?
borderline personality disorder (bpd) is a cluster b personality disorder that severely impacts a person's ability to manage their emotions & causes unstable relationships with others in the process (national institute of mental health).
while there are multiple risk factors for developing bpd, one of the most common is childhood abuse and neglect (bozzatello et al).
rigby's childhood
in multiple episodes of regular show, rigby's parents (barbera & sherm) are shown to participate in behaviors hinting at abuse or neglect. specifically, rigby's parents favor his younger brother (don) and are often seen comparing rigby to don, or ignoring rigby for don. additionally, rigby is implied to be intellectually disabled (ex: being unable to spell his own name), which neither his parents nor his teachers took seriously. on top of that, he is also bullied, a common childhood experience that has been shown to worsen borderline personality disorder (erazo et al). the episodes below focus on rigby's home life, but note that a child's school life is very important for the development of mental disorders, too.
01x10 - Don
this episode introduces viewers to rigby's resentment towards don, which we later learn in other episodes is primarily due to their parents. we're led to believe that rigby is upset about his sixth birthday party, where don unintentionally steals rigby's friends, taking the attention away from him. we're later told that, "it's everything. i'm always in your shadow. you're so much better than me. everyone likes you better, and to top it all off, everyone thinks you're my older brother. i'm the older brother! me! why do all my friends think you're so much cooler than me?" with a montage of rigby's friends consistently ditching him to hang out with don when they were children.
05x18 - Rigby in the Sky with Burrito
in a flashback, barbera says to a teenage rigby, "you're always making so much trouble for yourself. now don never gets in any trouble when he's at school."
06x27 - Lunch Break
in a flashback, pre-teen mordecai and rigby buy five boxes of cereal in order to dig for special prizes that come inside the cereal box. sherm catches them and forces them to eat all five boxes of cereal, saying, "nothing? this is nothing? you've been digging for prizes again, haven't you? you know the rules, son. don't you dare open a new box of cereal until you've finished this one. and since you're a guest in our home, mordecai, that rule applies to you, too." after eating the second box, rigby looks at sherm, and sherm says, "don't look at me, look at your cereal." this ends up with the two in the hospital, as the cereal contained trace amounts of poison that sherm hadn't checked for.
07x03 - The Lunch Club
rigby vents to benson about sherm in this one: "wow, you're pretty messed up. my dad, he was always like, "your brother don is so amazing. just go back to being a screw-up, rigby." i don't even understand half the reasons i do the things i do. i'm expected to be a clown, so i'm a clown. but clowns cry too, man. clowns cry too."
07x13 - Just Friends
in this episode, sherm comments, "now there's a son i can be proud of!" about don while rigby is in the room.
Regular Show: The Movie
when teenage rigby gets his letter from college u., his parents are shown to lack any emotion about it, not bothering to hide the fact that they expected him to get rejected even though he is excited about the letter coming in the mail. when he finds out that he didn't get in, sherm says, "look, rigby, we were kind of expecting this, so we looked up an out of state school where-" on screen, it is shown that his parents were planning to send him to mexico by himself for college, despite the fact that rigby is implied to be intellectually disabled.
07x27 - Rigby Goes to the Prom
this is the episode that most people think of when they think about rigby's parents. there are many moments in this episode that show the unstable relationship rigby has with his parents. for example, when don convinces rigby to go see their parents so that he can ask sherm to borrow his car, sherm comments, ""drop in." ha! you really think rigby would just come to dinner? i know you just need something." barbera asks don, "so, how are things at work?" to which don replies, "great! we just picked up cheezer's as a new client." sherm says, "that's our donny!" rigby awkwardly pitches in, saying, "i ate at cheezer's yesterday." there is a silence before rigby's parents blantantly choose to ignore him, saying, "that was a good update, don." rigby then lists some of his recent accomplishments, to which sherm replies, "yeah, and?" after a fight, rigby storms off to his room, which has been turned into a walk-in closet. after being given the keys to sherm's car by barbera, rigby spends his entire date with eileen nervous that he will mess up sherm's car. during the date, eileen notices that he is nervous and asks what's wrong; rigby replies, "no, my mom gave me the keys, but it's my dad, you know? he doesn't trust me with anything. i was hoping he'd finally be ready to see me as a real person. it's always don, car, everything else, me." afterwards, sherm makes a scene at prom upon finding out that rigby took his car, screaming at the students and the principal, and eventually finds out that rigby is at lookout mountain with eileen. sherm puts eileen and rigby in the car and begins to drive recklessly down the mountain, yelling at rigby the entire time, saying, "seems like every day you find some new way to mess up our lives, and now, you've found someone new to mess up their life, too!" (referring to eileen). sherm then nearly crashes the car, saying, "it's your fault we're here in the first place!" after a few scenes, the car is eventually totaled in a near fatal accident, and after crashing the car, rigby exclaims, "the car!" sherm says, "forget about the car. are you okay?" to which rigby looks surprised that his dad would care about his safety.
as shown in the above examples, rigby is implied to be (and sometimes is blantantly shown to be) abused and neglected by his parents. this would put him at risk for borderline personality disorder.
symptoms
in order to be diagnosed with bpd, a person must experience five (or more) of the following symptoms:
frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (note: do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in criterion 5)
a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation
identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self
impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating) (note: do not include suicidal or self-mutilating behavior covered in criterion 5)
recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days)
chronic feelings of emptiness
inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)
transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms
(desk reference to the diagnostic criteria from dsm-5 by the american psychiatric association).
i'm going to go over each symptom that rigby displays that leads me to believe that he has borderline personality disorder.
CRITERION 1: frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment
i want to quickly go over another terminology exclusive to people with bpd: favorite person (fp): "a favorite person is relied on for comfort, happiness, and validation. the relationship with a... favorite person may start healthy, but it can often turn into a toxic love-hate cycle known as idealization and devaluation... at first, an individual may view their favorite person as flawless. however, if the favorite person doesn’t meet expectations or isn’t available, someone with bpd might swiftly shift to intense negativity toward them. these shifts between idealization and devaluation can occur rapidly and frequently, leading to instability in the relationship." (bachert).
it is my belief that mordecai is rigby's favorite person. rigby is shown to have an intense fear of abandonment that often revolves around mordecai. while it is impossible to go over every example, i will go over a few of the ones that stood out to me while watching the show.
01x06 - Meat Your Maker (Transcript)
rigby becomes distressed when mordecai is mad at him in these scenes and is later shown talking to himself in mordecai's voice, reassuring himself that mordecai isn't mad; "yeah, rigby, you're doin' good."
01x08 - The Unicorns Have Got to Go (Transcript)
rigby is angry at mordecai for bailing on their plans to hang out. despite claiming that he's "gonna have to get some new friends," he appears distressed when mordecai finally has enough and leaves. he ends up nearly crying when trying to apologize to mordecai later, claiming "i miss you."
02x15 - Temp Check (Transcript)
doug begins to copy rigby's traits to the point where he begins to shapeshift into rigby, stealing his friends. rigby appears distressed and angry the entire episode. when mordecai chooses doug over rigby, rigby has an emotional outburst.
05x05 - Wall Buddy (Transcript)
rigby admits that he wasn't upset that he had to clean his room; he was upset because he felt like mordecai sold him out, saying "it used to be both of us against the man... now my only buddy is wall buddy."
Regular Show: The Movie (Transcript)
the most severe example of rigby's fear of abandonment is during the movie, when he forges mordecai's rejection letter to college university. he does this because he believes that mordecai will leave him behind if they go to different schools. he keeps this secret from mordecai for as long as he can in fear of losing him.
rigby's fear of abandonment extends to eileen, but his fear is not as intense as it is with mordecai.
2017 Special #4: Fancy Dinner
in this comic, rigby believes that eileen is going to leave him because he doesn't know how to cook.
CRITERION 2: a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation
rigby often alternates between thinking mordecai is the best person in the world to being intensely mad at him, often because his fear of abandonment was triggered. this is referred to as "splitting," and there are several examples where rigby splits on mordecai, as shown below (salters-pedneault).
01x04 - Death Punchies (Transcript)
rigby goes from being excited to play dig champs with mordecai (idealization) to being angry with mordecai due to some teasing on mordecai's part, even going as far to say "i hate you" (devaluation) minutes after being excited to hang out with him.
01x08 - The Unicorns Have Got to Go
rigby goes from being excited to spend time with mordecai (idealization) to insulting mordecai with his new friends (devaluation) after mordecai bails on their plans together.
02x02 - It's Time (Transcript)
rigby goes from being excited to see zombie dinner pary with mordecai (idealization) to flirting with margaret the whole episode in order to purposefully hurt mordecai (devaluation) after mordecai bails on their plans together.
05x05 - Wall Buddy
rigby goes from being excited to get chimichangas with mordecai (idealization) to being extremely petty the entire episode (devaluation) because he felt abandoned.
additionally, rigby relies heavily on mordecai for emotional support. this is part of the "idealization" phase of the idealization/devaluation cycle (ertel).
02x01 - Ello Gov'nor (Transcript)
rigby relies on mordecai to walk him to the bathroom when he has nightmares.
Regular Show: The Movie
teenage rigby refuses to go to college if mordecai can't go with him.
07x16 - The Eileen Plan (Transcript)
rigby seeks reassurance from mordecai.
07x38 & 07x39 - Rigby's Graduation Day Special (Transcript)
rigby is unable to give his speech without mordecai's direct support.
CRITERION 3: identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self
rigby has low self-esteem and has been shown to change aspects of his identity on a whim.
03x24 - Trash Boat
rigby changes his name to "trash boat" because he thinks it will make him look cooler, and then regrets it when he is made fun of by his friends.
03x33 - Diary (Transcript)
while confessing his secrets, rigby admits that he's a horrible person.
07x16 - The Eileen Plan
rigby impulsively goes back to high school in order to impress eileen.
CRITERION 4: impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging
rigby has shown signs of binge eating and impulsive spending.
because this post is so long, i'm no longer able to add images, so i'll copy the transcripts instead!
01x11 - Rigby's Body (Transcript)
rigby participates in binge eating with mordecai.
"(A montage begins of Mordecai and Rigby eating a variety of snacks. At the end, the Snack Bar is a mess, and Mordecai and Rigby are sick from overeating.)
Mordecai: I need to eat something healthy, like a salad or something.
Rigby: What? Are you kidding? Dude, all these snacks are free, dude. (Stops himself from vomiting) Trust me. If we keep eating, we'll feel better in no time."
01x12 - Mordecai and the Rigbys (Transcript)
rigby participates in impulsive spending with mordecai.
"Rigby: Dude! Check it out, man! They're here!
Mordecai: What's here?
Rigby: Our fake band t-Shirts that we ordered from that site last night."
05x05 - Wall Buddy
rigby participates in impulsive spending regularly.
"Mordecai: (grunts) How are we gonna fix this now? Why didn't you just clean up your mess? (Mordecai pushes Rigby) It's like every time you have to do something simple, you buy some dumb product and make it worse!
Rigby: What? When have I ever done that!? (screen shows some of Rigby's past products he brought up in the series like the Brain Max from "More Smarter" and The Russian from "One Pull Up". Rigby then slides the products away.) Anyway... (sighs) I'm upset!"
mordecai and rigby participate in life-threatening scenarios not listed as an example in criterion #4 in the dsm on a consistent basis. for example, rigby eating an omelet to obtain a hat that he wanted on impulse despite the fact that he was deathly allergic to eggs, leading to his hospitalization.
additionally, it is a staple in the show that drinking soda or eating wings is equivalent to doing drugs or drinking alcohol, which mordecai and rigby participate in in too many episodes to count.
CRITERION 5: recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior
Regular Show: The Movie
rigby is the only character in regular show to have attempted suicide. after mordecai ends their friendship, he asks his ship to fly him into the sun.
"Rigby: (crying and depressed) Fly me into the sun so I won't have to be sad anymore!
Computer Voice: Fuel cells critical.
Rigby: No, No, No! Come on! STUPID SHIP! STUPID SHIP!!
Computer Voice: Auto pilot engaged to nearest refueling station.
(The Ship takes Rigby to the refueling station. Rigby gets mad and kicks the ship, hurting his leg and falls into the gas tank, knocking him out.)"
CRITERION 6: affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood
CRITERION 8: inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger
i'm putting these two together because, for rigby, his unstable moods are often paired with intense bursts of anger. there are many more examples than the ones i have listed, but these were the ones that stood out to me the most.
01x04 - Death Punchies
rigby destroying their room after mordecai makes fun of him and saying "i hate you" in the process. criterion 6 is met here as well because rigby spends the rest of the episode angry at mordecai.
"(Rigby runs to his and Mordecai's room.)
Rigby: Wahhh!!! (Jumps on Mordecai's bed.) Ugh! Ugh! Dumb Mordecai! I hate you!
Mordecai (downstairs): You better not be messing up my side of the room.
Rigby: (Yells and grabs a book) YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!!! (throws book at the door, it bounces of and hits him in the face) Oww!!! (screeches in pain continually off-screen)"
01x10 - Don
rigby spends the entire episode angry at don, and ultimately lashes out at him, saying that he's mad at don for being born.
"Don: What's going on with us? You never give me some sugar. Did I do something?
Rigby: Yeah. You were born!
Don: (visibly hurt) Wow. That's heavy. I gotta get out of here."
Regular Show: The Movie
teenage rigby destroys his room after being rejected from college university.
"Past Rigby: If I can't go to college with Mordecai, then I don't want to go to college at all!! (He slams his door, throws things off his desk, tears down his "College U" posters and turns on his console.)
Game: Welcome to College U, the College for accepts everyone.
Past Rigby: Meh!! (He flips his T.V. to the ground and falls to his knees, resembling Future Rigby's flashback. He looks at his letter, which has "Rejected" stamped on it in red.)"
CRITERION 9: transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms
rigby shows signs of stress-related paranoid ideation.
02x15 - Temp Check
before doug's scheme is obvious, rigby spends time stalking doug due to paranoia, as doug is spending extra time with mordecai and copying the things that rigby is doing.
05x28 - Expert or Liar (Transcript)
rigby spends time paranoid that everyone is out to get him after being humiliated on national television.
"(Rigby then tries to pull the man's face off, leading to a montage of several failed attempts to find Bert Coleman. He ends up attacking a mime, yelling at an ice cream man, frightening a couple making out on a bench, bothering a construction worker, looking into a horse's mouth, and even fighting with Bloodshed and Manslaughter, who fight back. Rigby is then seen walking around with a black eye and angrily eating food. He looks at a billboard that is advertising Expert or Liar, the camera zooming in to the word 'liar.')"
as shown above, rigby fits 8/9 of the needed criteria for borderline personality disorder. it is possible that criterion #7 (chronic feelings of emptiness) exists but is not expanded upon in existing regular show media due to the fact that the characters in regular show rarely express their true feelings outside of anger.
comorbidities
people with borderline personality disorder often have more than one disorder. some common comorbidities include (shen et al):
mood disorders
anxiety disorders
substance use disorders
other personality disorders
rigby canonically has an anxiety disorder (specific phobia, claustrophobia) and participates in substance use (however, it is unclear if he participates frequently enough to warrant a diagnosis of substance use disorder).
conclusion
whether or not it was unintentional, rigby is a bpd-coded character. many of the characters in regular show would benefit greatly from therapy, and rigby is one of them; though eileen helps him improve himself later on.
here is the twitter thread that inspired this post! it has resources for people with borderline personality disorder at the end, so i recommend checking it out.
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◌ೆ୧ ͢YOUR MAILBOX HAS MAIL ♡
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⏤ it: chapter one (2017) ╱ it (titled onscreen as it chapter one) is a 2017 american supernatural horror film directed by andy muschuetti and written by chase palmer, cary fukunaga, and gary dauberman. it is the first of a two-part adaptation of the 1986 novel of the same name by stephen king, primarily covering the first chronological half of the book. it is the first film in the it film series as well as being the second adaptation following tommy lee wallaces 1990 miniseries. starring jack dylan grazer and bill skarsgård, the film was produced by new line cinema, katzsmith productions, lin pictures, and vertigo entertainment. the film, set in derry, maine, tells the story of The losers' club (grazer, sophia lillis, jaden lieberher, finn wolfhard, wyatt oleff, chosen jacobs, and jeremy ray taylor), a group of seven outcast children who are terrorized by the eponymous being which emerges from the sewer and appears in the form of pennywise the dancing clown (skarsgård), only to face their own personal demons in the process.ㅤ♡ㅤinfo from it: chapter one wikipedia
⏤ it (1990) ╱ it (also known as stephen kings it) is a 1990 abc two-part psychological horror drama miniseries directed by tommy lee wallace and adapted by lawrence d. cohen from stephen kings 1986 novel of the same name. the story revolves around a predatory monster that can transform itself into its preys worst fears to devour them, allowing it to exploit the phobias of its victims. it mostly takes the humanoid form of pennywise, a demonic clown. the protagonists are the lucky seven, or the losers club, a group of outcast kids who discover pennywise and vow to kill him by any means necessary. the series takes place over two different time periods, the first when the losers first confront pennywise as children in 1960, and the second when they return as adults in 1990 to defeat him a second time after he resurfaces.ㅤ♡ㅤinfo from it: 1990 miniseries wikipedia.
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⏤ i am not okay with this ╱ i am not okay with this is an american coming-of-age black comedy television series based on the graphic novel of the same name by charles forsman. the series stars sophia lillis, wyatt oleff, sofia bryant, and kathleen rose perkins. the series was released on netflix on february 26, 2020, and received positive reviews, with praise for the performances, particularly for lillis and oleff. this series follows the story of an emotionally turbulent teenage girl, sydney novak, played by sophia lillis, who discovers that she has psychokinetic powers that are triggered by strong emotions. as the series progresses she aims to gain control over her powers while navigating the complicated relationships of her life. she navigates the coping of her fathers death, an estranged relationship with her mother (kathleen rose perkins), a blossoming friendship between stanley batber (wyatt oleff) and her feelings towards her best friend and possible crush, dina.ㅤ♡ㅤinfo from i am not okay with this wikipedia
⏤ the black phone ╱ the black phone is a 2021 american supernatural horror film directed by acott derrickson from a screenplay coauthored with longtime collaborator c. robert cargill. it stars mason thames as finney, a teenage boy abducted by a serial child killer known colloquially as the grabber (ethan hawke). when finney encounters a mystical black rotary phone in captivity, he uses it to plot his escape by communicating with the ghosts of the grabbers slain victims. madeleine mcgraw, jeremy davies, and james ransone also feature in the principal cast. derrickson and cargill produced the black phone in association with blumhouse productions ceo jason blum. universal pictures oversaw the films commercial distribution, and funding was sourced through a universal–blumhouse co-production pact and tax subsidies from the north carolina state government.ㅤ♡ㅤinfo from the black phone wikipedia
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Tarnished pt 23
[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]
[Part 23/?? Word Count: 1857]
[CW: Drug abuse, addiction, gaslighting]
—————
Two weeks later, Blitzo sent another letter. It was thinner than the first. Barb gave it the same treatment, ‘RETURN TO SENDER’. The next one was even thinner, probably just one page in the envelope.
After she had that one sent back, he started sending postcards. Mostly they were generic landscape images from across the Rings. But not being in an envelope meant she saw snippets of the text on the blank side. Barb let Fizz know that Blitzo was sending mail, but never the content.
She didn’t mean to read any of them, but checking the address meant seeing what was written. There was a theme of ‘sorry, please talk to me, let me explain, I’m sorry, text, call, so sorry,’ in his scribbled handwriting. Knowing their dad’s account of events, her brother’s repeated requests for forgiveness just infuriated Barb.
She saw there were a few that mentioned her and their mom. Blitzo was asking if Fizz knew where they were. You’d know if you’d stuck around, traitor, she thought bitterly as she sent the postcards to be shredded.
The frequent reminders of Blitzo’s existence kept her off balance. And Fizzarolli was spending more time in Lust. He kept denying any emotional attachment to Asmodeus but Barb saw the difference in how he talked about the Sin. His absence left her somewhat at loose ends in her downtime.
The other survivors from their circus had scattered; few wanted to stay in Greed with all the established gangs and corruption. Barb, not wanting to be alone constantly, found other demons that shared her interests. One of those interests being drug use was incidental.
After seven months, the postcards arrived less frequently. Barb didn’t really notice; she had access to stronger stuff and was getting fucked up on a regular basis. Fizz was paying her enough that she could afford it… for now. But as the next pageant got closer, she started missing more days.
At first it didn’t matter too much. Her friend was off being Ozzie’s boy toy. The PR team was finally filtering the mail somewhat. And just before the pageant, Blitzo sent a card saying, ‘I’ll leave you alone Fizz. You know where to find me. I’m sorry.’ That was one less stressor; Barb celebrated with a weekend long bender.
She managed to be clean for a few days before and after the clown pageant. She was able to function as Fizz’s security the whole time. Once again, he won. Once again, Mammon immediately signed him on with a year long contract.
This year though, the king of Greed had some things to talk about concerning Fizzarolli’s assistant. Whisking him behind closed doors for the rigamarole of the contract was the perfect moment to plant seeds of doubt about Barb in his mind.
“Y’know Fizzy, that assistant o’ yours…I know she’s your friend but she’s been slacking big time,” he said as they signed and initialed pages. “I’d hate for someone from your past to take advantage of you, yah?” Mammon had a look of intense concern as he finished his portion of the contract.
“I-I’ll talk to her, Mammon sir.” Fizz was already worried about Barb. He knew she’d gotten hooked on painkillers after the fire. She’d been sober for years but he could see the signs popping up. And if Mammon noticed, things were getting worse.
“Good boy Fizzy! ‘Cause we’re gonna be real busy again and we don’t need c**ts coasting off your success.”
The day after the pageant saw Fizz in Lust again, working with Ozzie on updating the Fizzies. Asmodeus took him out for lunch again. He’d told Mammon before the contest that he’d need the whole day with the winner for their work, preventing his fellow Sin from interrupting anything.
After lunch, Ozzie sprung an offer on Fizz. “I’d like you to work at my lounge club, Froggie. Get you some experience outside the Greed Ring and away from all those creeps.”
Fizz waved a dismissive hand. “Psh, I’ve always had creeps around, it’s not that big a deal. Besides, Barb’s got my back.”
“Yeeeeeeaaaah, about that,” Asmodeus said slowly.
“Oh not you too Oz! Mammon was just bitching to me last night about her!”
“Hey, I’m just saying…she’s having a bad time lately. I’m not gonna pry, but if even Mam has picked up on it? Your girl needs help.” Ozzie cupped Fizz’s cheek. “Look, I know she’s important to you. You’re basically family right?” Fizz nodded. “So I want to help. And moving you both out of Greed is a good way to start.”
Fizz sighed. “Yeah, she’s never really liked it there anyway. I can’t make her do anything though.”
“You know me babe; I ain’t about forcing anyone. Unless she’s in deep shit, too deep to handle or putting herself in danger? you gotta let her make her choices.” He leaned back in their private booth. “I’m serious about working at my lounge though. You’d make a great M.C. Fizzy-frog.”
Fizz agreed to perform at Ozzie’s, with the frequent scheduling starting in a few weeks. He had prior commitments with Mammon to take care of first. Doing nightly shows at the lounge would mean moving to Lust.
Before that, he wanted to talk with Barb. The first chance he got was almost a week later, after they were done at Mammon’s for the day. Fizz had to steal himself to talk to his friend so he went to her apartment after hyping himself up via a phone call with Asmodeus.
Barb, meanwhile, had taken a hit of her current drug of choice as soon as she got home. It was the first big high she’d had in the past two weeks. When Fizz showed up at her door unannounced, she could feel the drugs hitting her system. Although he looked serious and she was trying to focus on what he said, the chemical filter in her veins meant she really only caught a few words. Kind of like those snippets of Blitzo’s postcards.
“Barb, I know you’ve got a problem. You’ve been using drugs again, I can tell. We need to get you help, but we can’t do it here. Asmodeus offered me a gig, I’ll need to move to Lust. Please, come with me. I can’t stand seeing you destroy yourself. We’ll get away from all this shit in Greed. Get you some fucking help.”
Barb tried to string together what he was saying. What truly stuck with her was he was moving. Leaving for Lust and Asmodeus. Away from her. She growled angrily. “Urrrgh! Fine, go fuck off with your royal sugar daddy! I don’t need you!” She pushed him away from her. Her intoxication meant she didn’t have much control of her strength. Her push knocked him against the wall; if he hadn’t hit it with his prosthetic arm, it would have left bruises.
She stomped to the door and yanked it open. “Get the fuck out Fizz. The other imp looked stricken so she pushed him again. This one sent him into the hallway. Barb slammed the door shut, locked it and put the chain on. He had a spare key, but even his extendable arms would struggle with the chain. She pressed her back against the door and slid down it as Fizz knocked desperately. He kept saying her name but she didn’t respond. She just curled up, silent and crying.
Eventually, he was gone. Her sense of time was completely distorted. Maybe it had been an hour, maybe just a couple minutes. She just wanted to forget about everything again. Fortunately, past Barb had picked up a baggie full of little friends from her dealer that were very good at helping her forget.
A few days later, she’d come down enough to realize she had to go work. That many pill-shaped friends weren’t cheap. But when she got to Mammon’s main offices, her keycard didn’t work. Barb tried multiple times, flipping the card in different directions but she continued to get error sounds. She was ready to punch the scanner when the door opened smoothly.
The shark demon that stepped out towered over Barb. “What do you want?” No politeness, just blunt demanding attitude.
“I want to get to work. Why isn’t my keycard working?” She waved the offending piece of plastic in front of the shark’s snout.
His concentric ringed eyes focused on the card, reading her name. “Barb Buckzo. Yeah, your position’s been…terminated.” He gave her a leering grin and flicked the card. His claw hit with enough force to send it spinning out of her hand and down the street.
“The fuck d’you mean, ‘terminated’? I’m Fizz’s assistant and bodyguard!”
“Not no more. You haven’t been here for a week. Mr. Fizzarolii and Lord Mammon don’t need some lazy ass coasting on her buddy’s success.” He straightened up to his full height. The shark crossed his arms and continued to match her glaring look. “So you’re out, shoulda got a termination letter in yer mail.”
Her jaw dropped. Those assholes! “I wanna talk to Fizz. Right now!” She tried to push past the beefy shark, but he outweighed her and Fizz combined.
“Mr. Fizzarolli is busy. Lord Mammon is free for the next ten minutes if you wanna talk to him.” Barb growled, a rumbling hiss coming from her chest. “Thought so.” The shark went back inside and the door slid shut behind him.
Barb stood there, chest heaving. She had mostly come down from her high and there was no drugged filter between her and her emotions. After a few minutes of glaring at the locked doors, she started hurling nearby rocks at the building. Her aim was still good from all those years in the circus. But those doors were designed to withstand bullets; a valid concern with all the turf wars likely to pop up in this Ring.
All the rocks in Hell wouldn’t do much to the structure. Barb didn’t care; if anything it made her madder. She kept hurling the same rocks over and over, screaming obscenities all the while. Until she threw one that ricocheted back, hitting her directly on her circus brand and knocking her on her butt.
She sat there, dazed. The pain on her forehead belatedly hit and she rubbed the spot to find ichor welling from the scratch. “Fine. FINE, YOU HEAR ME! YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES! HAVE FUN BEING A PAMPERED WHORE FIZZ! YOU’RE JUST LIKE THAT TRAITOR BLITZO!” Barb turned away, rubbing her upper arms with both hands as she tried to keep the anger in the forefront. She flipped of the building as she walked home.
Not that the studio apartment would be home much longer. She was behind on rent and her landlord was ready to kick her out. Checking her mail, she found the termination letter; included was her severance check. Not enough to back pay everything. But enough to find somewhere else. Something cheaper and closer to the drug dens she was visiting more often.
Within two days, she was gone, ghosting everyone in her life.
—————
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#helluva boss#helluva fanfiction#helluva au#helluva blitzo#helluva fizzarolli#fizzarolli#barbie wire#helluva asmodeus#asmodeus x fizzarolli#fizzmodeus#helluva mammon
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Collision Path - Mike 5lbs of Pressure
CH02 Mike POV 🎶 {My Own Summer (Shove It) - Deftones}
T/W - drugs/alcohol, sexual themes
We walked out of the club toward the car - my Uncle’s pride and joy.
“You didn’t have to talk down to me back there.” I stated, reaching the passenger door. He unlocked it and we climbed in.
“You didn’t have to make an ass out of yourself.” He said it as though it was a matter of fact, and I felt slight embarrassment.
“What was the point of me being there?” I asked him and he looked at me with defeat.
“To watch, learn. You need to start using whatever’s under that stupid fucking hat.” He took my hat off and threw it in the backseat, making me roll my eyes in annoyance.
I knew he wanted me to be like him - unfeeling, ruthless. But I couldn’t care less about his operation. I didn’t want any part of this, so of course I was reluctant to learn the ropes.
Leff had berated me many times already about how I should be grateful that he took me under his wing after my Mom died - that he’s trying to set us up for life. He was a hard ass, which is why he ran the operation. Most days it felt as though I was nothing more than a dog for him to boss around.
I bit my tongue, knowing there was no point in arguing with him yet again. I’d already been clear that I wanted to spend my life doing music, not running drugs around town for him. Unfortunately, the music scene out here was abysmal - just like at home. I’d been struggling to find a front man or drummer for my band for years now. The only other member was the other guitarist, my friend Eli.
I followed Leff out the door and downstairs. We hadn’t spoken much since yesterday but I didn’t mind. The less conversation with him, the better. To my surprise, I saw a familiar redhead in the mail room, glancing over her mail as she walked over to the stairs. My mouth went dry as I realised it was the dancer from the club yesterday. She looked different with clothes on. I guess I didn't often imagine what clothing strippers would wear day to day, but she was wearing black shorts and an oversized plain black T-shirt. I could see her tattoos more clearly now - at least the ones on her arms and legs and I wished I could ask her about some of them.
Leff opened the door and gave me a look that read ‘hurry up’. I looked at her as I was leaving and she looked up at me. I saw recognition in her eyes as she smiled politely at me. Her eyes didn’t linger on me for long before she left.
“Don’t even think about it.” Leff warned, keeping his tone low as he unlocked the car.
“About what?” I replied, curiously.
“Her.” His reply was simple and firm as he started the car.
“Don’t think I could pull her?” I asked, though I knew his answer.
“Fuck no. She’s hot and you’re … a rodeo clown.” He looked me over and shook his head with disapproval. I knew he hated my look, but it made me feel confident. It was just a bonus that he despised it.
“Besides, you can’t get attached to people in this line of work. I’ve told you this, Mikey.” He continues to talk down on me but, at this point, I had gotten good at tuning him out.
I found myself wondering about the redhead. She must be new to the building - I definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a beautiful face like hers. Or her legs… especially in those heels from the club.
I’d spent most of that deal sneaking glances at her as she danced and gave her attention to the lucky bastard who’s lap she sat in.
I was no stranger to strip clubs, especially since Leff had taken me in, but most girls didn’t have the same look at her, especially at the higher end places I’d visited on my nights off with Sicky - Leff’s right hand man.
The day goes off without a hitch, beside the casual gun pointed to my head. I refused to admit how much it shook me up - but in the moment, I genuinely thought that crazy motherfucker would actually shoot me over interrupting his game. Even if I did admit it, Leff and Sicky would laugh it off and call me ‘princess’ for the rest of the day.
I walked into the warehouse with the paper bag full of guns from the deal. I placed it on Leff’s desk as Sicky lit up a cigarette on the couch, smirking at my expense as he usually did.
“What the fuck is that?” Leff eyed the bag.
“The guns.” I shrugged, placing my hands on my hips defensively.
“And you’re just carrying them down the street in a paper fucking bag?” He snapped, snatching the bag and looking inside it.
I rolled my eyes, but I realised then he was concerned about the risk. Still, I held my ground.
“I got them here, didn’t I?” My tone was annoyed and he shook his head, opening the small safe that sat on the desk.
“You wouldn’t have if that fucking bag ripped. Use your fucking head, Mikey.” His tone was harsh as he handed me a $100 note.
“Maybe I’d care a little more if you paid better. I’m the one out there taking the risks, getting guns held to my head and shit.” I retorted, taking a seat on the couch.
I watched Leff and Sicky share a look but didn’t think much of it.
“Maybe I’ll pay you a little more when you start acting like you want this job.” Leff’s words ended the conversation. I didn’t have it in me to argue.
Eli knocked on my door and I called out to him that it was open. He came in carrying his guitar case and sat down in the armchair as I lit a smoke on the couch.
I always made sure to only invite Eli over for practice on the nights I knew Leff wouldn’t be home.
“Where’s this singer?” He asked as I exhaled, shrugging. “Dunno, man. He said he’d be here by now.” The search for a vocalist was draining and felt useless in this fucking city. “We should move to fucking Austin, Texas. The scene out there’s supposed to be way better.” I reminded him. As per usual, he ignored my comment about moving. He was a mama's boy at heart and hated the idea of leaving the city, despite the fact his brother was killed years ago a few streets over.
My Mom OD’d back home and the first thing I wanted to do was get as far away from that place as possible.
“Dude, try this shit. Best I’ve had in a while.” He scooped up a bit of coke on his key and held it out to me, effectively changing the subject. Without hesitation, I snorted it and felt the familiar burn in my sinuses. I picked up my guitar and we began jamming.
#rory culkin#charlie walker#clyde electrick children#kappa#fanfic#culkin brothers#culkin cult#lords of chaos#mike 5lbs of pressure#5lbs of pressure
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INTRO POST LETS GO
Hai! My name is judas / batty coolatta
Minor
Nsfw dni
DO NOT tag me in guilt trip or chain mail posts /srs i will hurt you
(a chain mail post is a post where you are threatening a consequence if you dont reblog. ex: "reblog this post or someone will break into your house")
if you feel pressured to reblog these i understand but please please please add the "tw reblog bait" tag
if u repeatedly tag me in these things i will block you! 🎉
#it wrote. <- is in theory my writing tag but all you'll find there is me wailing about hank j wimbleton. the essays i could write man...
HANK MADCOM ASKBLOG -> @killingandviolencefan2002
COME PLAY WITH ME!!!!
my artfight. smiles
strawpage
Interests
Madness combat!!!!! (hank my beloved)
Rainworld
fallout (mainly the show and new vegas)
The scp foundation
Halflife vr but the ai is self aware
junji ito
wwatt
saw
Final destination
Tw! This whole blog has alotta
Blood
Gore
Violence
Murder
Also if you really dont like bugs you can block the #bug club tag since im using it to gather bug references ^-^
Alt accounts!!
↑↑↑ oc blog
oc rp: @silly-guys-postin
@mag-agent-torture-posting
@tricky-posting
@burger-gil-posting
MY RP ACCOUNTS DO NOT BE ALARMED IF YOU GET RB'ED BY MY FUCKING CLOWN
Also my sona is a sheep if I'm called a goat again I will scream
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little town (3260 words) by JOYBOYO Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Cursed Princess Club (Webcomic) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: maria/beckett dandridge Characters: Maria (Cursed Princess Club), Beckett Dandridge, King Jack (Cursed Princess Club), Townspeople Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Small Town, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, beckett is just a really normal guy, he's that one kid that all the adults adore, inspired by kaya and usopp and that one conversation because it was too funny NOT to do, also hope you guys like my lambcat humor impression, ALSO I DID IN FACT WORK ON THIS THROUGHOUT THIS SINGULAR DAY LMAO, POV Alternating, for later Summary: When he's not working on his mother's farm, Beckett sells newspapers and delivers mail. One day, he must deliver a package to the mysterious mansion on the hill, the residence of the mayor and his daughters forbidden to see the outside world… what could go wrong?
maria/beckett fic for at mechanical-clown B)
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February - Established Long Distance Relationship
Pairing: Brock Reynolds
Warnings: Deployments, Care Packages
Words: 943
Summary: Brock and the team get surprises during mailcall while on deployment in J-Bad.
In a Discord group I belong to, there was a post for a "Year of the OTP" challenge for 2023.
Disclaimer: This is fanfic work; no money is being made from this story. All recognizable characters belong to their respective creative authors, studios or producers.
Masterlist
“Mail call you clowns,” Sonny yells as he joins the guys around the fire pit. He opens the mailbag, “alright, let's see what we have for Bravo Team.” Reaching in, he pulls out a medium size box, “Ray, here’s a little bit of home.” He then tosses it over to him. He reaches in and grabs the next package, “bossman, it looks like the kiddos sent you something too.” On the next grab, he pulls out some letters, “heads up,” he shouts, and when Trent and Metal look at him, he flings the letters to them. They each catch them before they have a chance to hit the floor. He stuffs the last letter into his back pocket as it’s addressed to him. Shaking the bag, he realizes there is one more package inside; when he pulls it out, he grins, “looks like someone is sending Brock and Cerberus some love too.” He then tosses it to the man in question.
There is some friendly teasing as Ray and Jason open the packages from their families. Emma and Mickey had mailed their father a card, chocolates, seeds for his vegetable garden, and baby wipes. Now Naima and the kids had sent Ray some homemade cards, cookies, drawings, candy, and baby wipes.
“So, Broccoli, whatcha get?” Sonny asked.
Causing the other guys to look in Brock's direction as he finishes cutting tape on his box, he chuckles; it’s a heavy-duty heart-shaped Kong toy and a jar of all-natural peanut butter. On the lid is a heart-shaped sticker and the name Cerb. Brock whistles, and Cerberus gets up, stretching lazily while yawning, ambling over to his handler, and sitting by his feet.
Brock takes his knife, spreading a glob of peanut butter on the Kong Toy before handing it to Cerberus, who sniffs it briefly before biting it and retreating to his spot near the fire pit.
Digging back into the package, he pulls out a Ziploc container of homemade chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies, a container of baby wipes, a small container of homemade dog treats, a new hard copy of his favorite book ‘The Martian,’ a homemade DVD and a card in an envelope.
“Who’s sending you all those goodies, Broccoli?” Sonny asked from his seat next to Brock, eyeing the container of cookies.
“Not to mention, who knows your pup so well?” Trent asked, nodding at Cerberus, who was still munching on his toy.
“Spill brother,” Metal’s low, gruff voice causes Brock to jump a little as he comes up, setting a bottle of beer next to his camping chair.
Brock rubs the back of his neck; he smiles at the guys and places the package on the ground leaving the book and card on his lap. He then looks at all of the guys, “Keep your paws off of my cookies, or I’ll sick the hair missile on you. You’ll be his training dummy.”
Opening the card, he can’t help but smile when he reads the contents,
Cracking the book's cover, he places the card inside, flips the pages, and stops at page 316. Lying between the pages is a 3D ultrasound image. He picks it up, taking in all of the child’s features. Brock is so lost in thought he doesn’t see Trent get up to grab snacks.
“Cute kid, you gonna be an uncle?” Trent asks, seeing the picture.
Brock grins at the man, “Nah, man, I’m gonna be a dad. This is my kid.”
Everything around the fire pit stops; the guys look at him.
“What’d you just say, Broccoli?” Sonny asks his Texas accident even thicker than usual.
Picking up the image and showing it to the group, “I said I’m gonna be a dad.” Noting writing on the back of the image, “make that a girl, dad. This is a picture of my daughter.”
Ray smiles at him, “welcome to the club, brother. There is nothing quite like it.”
Jason nods his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say.
“So, who’s the baby momma Broccoli? Can’t believe you finally managed to get some and didn’t tell us?”
Brock growls at Sonny, “my daughter isn’t the result of some one-night stand. And trust me, man, getting some has never been a problem.”
Sonny holds up his hands in surrender.
“So you’re saying you have a girlfriend?” Clay asks, giving Sonny a reproachful look.
“Not what I said either,” Brock replies with a shoulder shrug.
“Quit being cryptic, dog boy. Tell us what’s going on.” Metal states before taking a swig of his beer.
“My wife is the one who is pregnant. It wasn’t exactly planned, but not unwanted either. We found out the week before the deployment that she’s pregnant.”
Trent tilts his head, “since when are you married?”
“We got married two days after returning from our last deployment to J-Bad. It was just us, the dogs, a JP on a floating dock in False Cape State Park at sunset.”
“So, almost a year and a half?” Trent clarifies.
Brock shrugs, “that sounds about right?”
“Dogs?” Clay questions.
“We couldn’t exactly get married without Cerberus and Artemis. Before you ask, Artemis is a two-year-old sable German shepherd.” Brock replied.
“How long have you guys been together?” Trent asks.
“We met just before I went through BUDs. We’ve been together ever since.” Glancing down at his watch, he does the calculations in his head for the time difference to Va Beach. “This has been fun, ladies, but I’m going to go call my girls.” Grabbing his things, he whistles, and together he and Cerberus head to their hootch to make a video call home.
Note:
The letter in this story was written in Dutch. I decided since that is the language he gives Cerb commands in, he picked it because he speaks it, and so does his wife. Here is a close approximation of what the letter says. I had a friend of mine do the Dutch translation.
Hey Babe, I’m missing you and our furry kid. The bed is cold without my two heat sources. Here are a few little things for when you get a minute of downtime. Only a few more weeks and this deployment will be over; we can’t wait to have you home. I had a new ultrasound technician at my last appointment, and she accidentally spilled the beans on our March surprise. So if you look at the page corresponding to that date, you will know too. That being said, when you come home, you better have a list of names ready. Love you, Babe
#“Year of the OTP” challenge for 2023#Seal Team#Bravo Team#Brock Reynolds#Cerberus#Trent Sawyer#Scott “Full Metal” Carter#Sonny Quinn#Jason Hayes#Ray Perry#Clay Spenser
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K update as the clown anon that sent the wrong mail to teacher. She completely ignored it and just answered my question I just spent all my luck here ig 😭 In honor of this, may I be the 🤡 anon if it is not taken pls 😔
Today a small miracle actually happened 🫡🫡🫡
Thank goodness she just ignored it djksjs
and ofc you can lmao welcome to the club 🤡 
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This morning someone tagged me in a social media post about how they think my books, along with some other people's, shouldn't be classified as romcoms because they deal with heavy themes or mention trauma. The post was about how there needs to be a NEW term for books like this because they're "not just fun, silly stories." This was positioned as an act of respect for these books.
I would never police what readers want to call the books they read, or the personal system they might have for their favorite genres, but I WAS tagged in this thing so I can't pretend I didn't see it. (not gonna engage but I will write this post on my tumblr because what else is it for?) And I can't pretend it doesn't chap my caboose!
I write romantic comedies. To say they're not that because they contain some tragic elements betrays a misunderstanding of what comedy is and what it can do.
I've written and talked about this before: how Our Flag, one of the most successful streaming TV shows ever, is a romantic comedy. How Good Omens, a Comedy with a capital C, is an allegory for all types of "heavy" gender stuff. I don't want to rehash all that, but tl;dr: comedy can incorporate tragedy (and vice versa) and I believe it MUST to be effective!
I write contemporary romcoms ("contemporary" is publishing-speak for Modern AU) so yeah, there's going to be some heavy stuff in there. What am I supposed to do with a trans main character living in Florida? Just ignore All That?? That wouldn't be funny, just nonsensical. But even in a historical story--even in the fluffiest, most light-hearted romcom--your characters are struggling to find love. That's hard! It's painful, and it's disingenuous, I think, to pretend like that's not part of a romance, comedy or not.
Take a hard look at any "classic" (white, heterosexual) romcom and you'll find some trauma or tragedy. Pretty Woman? That's a meditation on sex work and gender roles. While You Were Sleeping? The underlying darkness of fantasy and lies. You've Got Mail? Gentrification and the destruction of small business. Newsflash, well-meaning reader! Comedy's had some sad stuff in it this whole time!
I couldn't help but notice that the books in that post were, I believe, queer romcoms, so I wonder how much of this insistence that they're NOT comedies is actually about how Uniquely Tragic the queer experience is considered these days. I wish people who resist the label "romcom" would take a hard look at where this urge is coming from. In the Western comedic tradition, and especially in America, comedy is often treated as lesser than drama. It makes us feel good, and the Puritans said feeling good is bad (extremely simplified version of history but yadda yadda yadda), so clearly tragedy & drama is more deserving of serious study. I reject that completely. I don't want to belong to a club that wouldn't have me, a complete clown, as a member. I don't want to be treated "seriously" if that means turning my back on comedy as real art. I don't want to separate out romcoms into "silly ones" and "serious ones." I think they all deserve to be taken as they are.
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Dr. Joshua Golden's Reforms (Swirlyman)
Dr. Golden, was sick of his patients, shopping at the grocery store, to cook.
He had all the smoke detectors rigged, to fail at cooking, for his patients that had bullied others, and "trusted mama's cooking", a special meal created by a dominatrix, purchased as a mail order bride; for Mister George Soros, to run their economics and banking, for the Protestant Irish Order, the Episcopals; Sunni-Jews, incapable of erection, from lack of Zen as a prepubescent, instead practiced as a teenager, to deaden phallic material, and produce an anal orgasm, without a kneeler in Church.
Cellphone bombs were introduced, to any having self-defended, a spy or police expert or military officer, so the enlisted could run the government; those career, a war criminal limited to Camp Lejeune, unable to leave, except without a special "friendly pass", invented by Dr. Golden, for "gay sex", which Mister Swirlyman expected to be joyous, the act of homosexual prison rape ordered by him, prior in cells, having responded to commercials by George W. Bush on "al-Qaeda", from the 1980s, the War in Afghanistan, by Mister George Soros; our terrorists, Americans, pot smokers, versus theirs, Germans, teetotalers; those without beer, liquor, cigarettes, marijuana or pork.
Now, you have to order delivery; but don't worry, Dr. Joshua Golden, Colin Powell's specialist on Venus Terzo's orders, a voice actress of CGI art, the Carlos the Jackal investment in French espionage, has changed your GPS numbers, for Hebrew speaking drivers, prison convicts. And if you were worried, about them eating clam, to drive a car, it's okay, because they get spit in that now, for Andrew Donson's literary notes, from Fight Club and the Insane Clown Posse, the Russian Mafia, as produced by case logic; the white swastika, on a blue background, Canadian Nazis, in Israel.
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"All I ever wanted was to marry him. Make a home and raise a family, have something like my parents did...but he didn't want that with me."
He watched as she carefully took out a large leather-bound scrapbook and passed it to him. A finely manicured nail pointed out a sandy haired tanned and lanky looking fisherman with a large grin spread across his face as he wrapped an arm around a younger and even more tan Colleen who was smiling softly. Going back a few photos, possibly taken a few years apart Bruce noticed that Col's facial expression changed over the years, rather abruptly, but a definite marked changed from the love that shone from her in the first few, he could tell by her clothes and how her hair changed from complicated updos to long and loose.
"I'm not even seeing a ring in any of these."
The snick of a lighter and the rumble of bubbles let him know that she'd pulled out the bong she kept for 'Serious Business' also known as the FUBAR water pipe. This was heavy shit she was going to lay on him, as she should. He'd told her everything about what happened to him over there at 18. She was the only one to relive it with him as he had never told a single soul except those that were with him in the moment. She had busied herself grabbing the stash box and her tiny crane shaped scissors along with a black lacquer tray and began snipping, fluffing and packing as she tried to calm herself.
"Over there on the stereo...A side track one of Stills 2."
He knew that she was a fan of the Eagles as well as Joe Walsh but it was Stephen Stills and his lyrical and musical expertise that had captured Colleen's heart as well as her words. Bruce had heard this one but he'd never heard it especially from a broken hearted woman's point of view.
Please then remember and don't get too close To one special one He will take your defenses and run
"He took everything from me, slowly but steadily over the course of twelve years together I had nothing left to give him. Dave used to work for my Dad and uncle Harvey on a fishing boat my Granddad had. We went to school together so I knew him, he was a clown but for some reason after he started working for the business he had his eye on me. Of course I was flattered...I mean..."
Holding up a high school yearbook photo with something sappy written on it signed 'love Dave' on the back. Bruce had to admit that Dave the Idiot was a decent looking guy. There was another one of them together, a couple photo with another doe eyed curly haired girl and a dude that just all but screamed 'I'm a douchebag punch me'. They were sitting somewhere on a beach by the rocks in the sunshine all carefree and without a scarred heart amongst them.
"So you think..."
Passing him the lighter and the bong she nodded. Bruce shook his head and she took the first hit. The smoke looping and whirling up the looped neck of the bong until she pulled the bowl out and inhaled and held it. Holding out the bong once more she offered it to him and he accepted. Mimicking her motions he nearly burnt his thumb until she leaned over, exhaled over his shoulder away from his face and flicked the lighter for him with a smile.
"That the little weasel never truly loved me and was only using me to make his name known? Yes. When my Dad died I was 16, nearly 17, I had like a month to go and then my world turned to shit but anyways...Dave was off in New York with his buddies from the country club, people I introduced him to, Joel Benson was one that stands out but he's another story entirely, my mother tried calling him twenty times, Helene tried at least a hundred. He'd just pick up the receiver and put it back down..."
A sniffle was heard quietly as she now went about rolling a joint. She always had to be doing something with her hands when she was upset he noted.
"After a while he just left it off the hook. He expected me to help him cover his half of the room service bill he'd had mailed home because why not? When my mom finally told him what happened to my Dad you'd have thought it was his father that had died..."
That was when she finally let the dam break and her tears fall. Shaky hands lit the joint that she'd rolled and she inhaled deeper than he'd ever seen her. He wondered if she had used weed to quit smoking but that was a question for another day.
"Sounds to me like I know I'm playing Santa to Dave this year when we visit for Christmas."
Another hit and she passed it to him with a small quizzical smile.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm knocking his teeth down his throat and as a stocking stuffer he's getting a black eye."
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November 1938: Ducks, ducks, ducks
November 1, 1938 – Philadelphia Inquirer
The dance at the West Side Tennis club and Norma Shearer’s dinner were the principal Hallowe’en festivities. At the Shearer soiree were Carole Lombard, Clark Gable, Connie Bennett and Gilbert Roland, the Basil Rathbones, Tyrone Power and Howard Hughes.
November 1, 1938 – Fort Worth Star Telegram
2 on Motor Glides Glide Into Town
Two men on motor glides, traveling from the Golden Gate Exposition in San Francisco to Grover Whalen’s big show in New York City, stopped traffic on West Seventh Street Monday night and stole the show for a moment from Halloween celebrants. They are John De Sales and Allen Rice, both former vaudeville actors who are making the cross-country trip on motor glides as good will envoys from the San Francisco fair. Their motor glides are super refined versions of the motor driven scooter Homer Holcomb, the clown, rode in the Southwestern exposition and Fat Stock Show Rodeo last spring.
The boys say Carole Lombard and Clark Gable bought one for Clark Gable the day they were in Los Angeles.
November 4, 1938 – The Honolulu Advertiser
Remember Carole Lombard’s published wails about the size of her income tax? I wondered then why any star wanted that kind of publicity. And today, while talking with a girl who works in the studio ran mail department, I found the obvious answer. Carole had been revealed in government reports as Filmtown’s No. 1 money maker. No sooner were those lists published than she began to receive unpleasant letters – thousands of them, some begging, some abusing. Inspired by the size of her salary, legislators in three states introduced discriminatory tax measures against the picture industry. It was to escape the tempest stirred up by the report of her wealth that Carole publicized the amount she had to pay in taxes, and it was a clever defense. She is still receiving an avalanche of letters – but now, they are all sympathetic.
November 4, 1948 – Evening Star
Carole Lombard’s favorite method of transportation is the black-and-gray motor scooter given her by Clark Gable. (Doesn’t this couple have fun?)
November 5, 1938 – Los Angeles Times
Hedda Hopper’s Hollywood
Carole Lombard and I cornered Clark Gable on the “Idiot’s Delight” set and begged to see a bit of his dancing. He wouldn’t give but told us that after his first lesson he heard George King, his teacher, mumble as he walked away: “Well – that guy must have normal intelligence, but that’s all I’ve got to start with.”
November 8, 1938 – Minneapolis Star
Carole Lombard, in the current issue of Look magazine, selects the 10 most interesting men in the world, but alas, Clark Gable is not mentioned…
November 8, 1938 – Clinton Daily Journal
Has Gracie Allen added another Hollywood eligible to her long list of swains? She and Clark Gable were at the Trocadero the other night. Of course, Gable was sitting at another table with Carole Lombard, but everyone noticed that Gable just looked and looked at Grace all night – right after she overturned his soup plate on his lap when she passed the table.
November 11, 1938 – Buffalo Evening News
Carole Lombard is the only outsider who can crash the set of “Idiot’s Delight,” where the embarrassed Clark Gable is tap-dancing for dear old Metro. By the way, what happened to Clark’s “imminent” divorce from his long-estranged wife?
November 13, 1938 – Des Moines Register
Exploding Hollywood Myths
“All stars spend the night at a nightclub after a hard day’s work”
Nine o’clock finds many a star in bed on working days. Bing Crosby goes to a nightclub two or three times a year. Clark Gable, Joan Crawford, Gary Cooper, Norma Shearer, Carole Lombard, William Powell, and Spencer Tracy are seen at nightclubs only infrequently.
November 17, 1938 – Honolulu Star Bulletin
Carole Lombard has been sneaking away from the studio to bring down the ducks for Clark’s dinner…
November 17, 1938 – The Times
Carole Lombard and Clark Gable went duck hunting together the other day, and the first limit was shot by Carole Lombard…
November 19, 1938 – Hartford Courant
Carole Lombard brings Clark Gable some hot coffee in a silver-plated container and warns him, “Darling, I’ll be back to see you dance” (in “Idiot’s Delight”).
November 25, 1938 – Times Tribune
Movie night at the auto show: Clark Gable and Carole Lombard gazing enviously at an exhibit of antique models…
November 26, 1938 – Philadelphia Inquirer
Carole Lombard and Clark Gable stopping at a spot for a corned beef and cabbage dinner. They were joined by Franchot Tone and Pat DiCicco.
November 27, 1938 – Ogden Standard Examiner
Writer Tells of Farm Drift
May Mann, Standard-Examiner Hollywood columnist, is author of an article entitled “Hollywood Hightails For Rural Ranching” in the December “Modern Movies” magazine.
She tells how Clark Gable and Robert Taylor have forsaken Hollywood’s glamor life to get back to the simple life at ranches in San Fernando Valley, and how their friends Carole Lombard and Barbara Stanwyck have helped them furnish their ranch homes comfortably.
“Someone should put a sign lettered ‘This Way to Happy Valley’ at the fork of the road leading to the homes of Clark and Bob and other members of the picture colony residing there,” writes Columnist Mann. “Clark’s old-fashioned frame house is tucked away in a cluster of oak trees with a barn nearby and plenty of garden stuff. Up the road some 15 miles a simple four-room rambling structure set in 30 acres of alfalfa is Bob’s house. Nearby are Carole Lombard’s acres and three and a half miles away lives Barbara Stanwyck. It is coincidental that both Clark and Bob started out to become actors to escape farm life; that they’d both catapult to film stardom at the same studio, and should both return to settle down to ranch life at the very height of their careers.
November 28, 1938 – San Francisco Examiner
(Excerpt from article on Alice Marble)
Although the California pippin has always sung for her own amusement, Miss Marble had no voice lessons until a year ago. Then Carole Lombard, one of her good friends, paid for a dozen lessons with the Russian singer and teacher, Nina Koschetz of Hollywood.
Not only is Miss Lombard one of Alice Marble’s favorite persons, but Clark Gable, who is one of Miss Lombard’s good friends, is also the tennis star’s favorite actor.
“He’s a grand friend and a fine person,” said Miss Marble…
November 29, 1938 – Portland Evening Express
Clark Gable, the Great Hunter, took Carole Lombard on a duck hunting expedition. “At least he did some shooting,” she said. “Me? I’m just a retriever!”
November 30, 1938 – St. Louis Globe Democrat
Talking about houses, Clark Gable, rumored to be building a mansion in the Valley, denies this with “I’m not building anything until I know exactly what’s happening.” He can only be referring to his long held-up divorce from Mrs. Rhea Gable.
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Oh 100% nobody asked but do you think that’s gonna stop me???
Ok so, random headcanons time. No order or theme. Just headcanons GO!!
-Secret Squirrel’s real name is often disputed but it’s often theorized to be James.
-Secret is an actor on the side, particularly in live theatre.
-Secret is nonbinary. They prefer they/them or he/him pronouns.
-Secret can sing, dance, and play piano.
-Secret loves kids and loves meeting young fans. They often do meet and greets and always gets a kick out seeing kids wearing Secret costumes or saying Secret is their hero.
-Secret in general enjoys interacting with fans when they get the chance. Secret is often quite busy but doesn’t mind stopping to sign an autograph or posing for a selfie with a fan.
-Secret has gotten TONS of fan mail over the years. They keep a folder of these letters along with any art that they be attached. If someone sends them a gift or money however, Secret will return it to the sender.
-Secret is a very cultured type. They have a distinct knowledge of avant-garde art, alcoholic drinks, and jazz fusion. Though their love for this stuff is rooted in authenticity, Secret often plays it up when in public, to the point where Penny has found it somewhat overbearing. Morocco is usually zoning out or is just happy to be with Secret.
-Secret can be very silly, dorky, and adorable at times. They try to maintain a cool, charming, suave, classy persona as much as possible when public facing or with fans, but close friends of them say Secret can be an adorable goofball who nerds out about spy gadgetry and theatre, play pranks, and sing in the shower while playing with a rubber ducky. Secret is afraid people wouldn’t take them as seriously if they expressed these traits in public.
-Secret is polyamorous and pansexual, currently in a relationship with Morocco and Penny.
-Secret has had a complicated relationship with their pansexuality in the past. For years, fans and gossip columns speculated that Secret was gay. Secret for many years actively denied this and insisted they were completely straight. It is unknown why Secret did this, but it’s speculated that it involved their career and social status. They initially came out as bisexual but later came out as pan. Secret came out as nonbinary shortly before initially coming out as bi.
-Secret has a distinctly androgynous wardrobe
-Secret despises cold weather. They’ll only go outside during this time if called in for a mission.
-Secret’s first job was a clown for children’s birthday parties.
-Secret’s official fan club is growing strong. They aren’t too hands-on in its management and more or less just approves or denies pitches for merchandise or events.
-Secret’s personal life isn’t altogether that secret, which is something they’ve joked about in interviews. They really dislike paparazzi and gossip columns however, trying to maintain somewhat of a level of privacy.
-Snuggles their tail in private when no one’s around. They often hug it in their sleep.
-They are VERY competitive. Secret claims they aren’t, and that they don’t care about that stuff, but Secret gets VERY wrapped up when playing board games or video games or some kind of activity. Many of their friends hate playing with them for this reason as Secret will obsess over rules and take the game too seriously. However, Secret will let Morocco win at a game if he’s doing particularly badly, probably out of pity but also since they like seeing Morocco be excited over actually winning something.
I have more but that’s it for now BYE.
Maybe I’ll do a Morocco Mole headcanon dump too why the hell not
What if
What if I headcanon-dumped about Secret on here?
What if I did that
What if I
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