#clown makeup was for a silly joke

[ajcrwl]

Come take omeprazole with me.

(i needed it today).

[clowngirrl]

[alumirp]

The jester, the clown and the five reasons why luffy should NOT rule a kingdom

Trafalgar Law is a jester.

Not really, of course. He's a doctor, a prince, and most recently, a spy. It's not like Dressrosa is short-staffed or anything, he's just bored and the mission should be easy; enter the royal palace of Goa, gather intelligence on the court, leave, and then use that intel to find out if they're a kingdom worth allying with.

Of course, Cora-san would be reluctant to send him on such a mission, but with Doffy's permission and encouragement, there was little that Law's adoptive father, and Dressrosa's spymaster, could do about the matter, other than choosing Law's companion for the mission.

The plan was easy enough to follow; with the recent coronation of the new king, the Choosing Day would soon take place, where the new king would choose the new members of his royal court based on extensive trials and competitions. All Law had to do was apply for the position of royal advisor, approach the king and members of the court, find out how Goa worked and get to know the people of the kingdom. Meanwhile, his companion would apply for the position of court jester and use the seemingly silly position to gain intel in places Law could not go so easily, such as among the servants and attendants. Or that's how it would happen, if hes fucking chaperone wasn't an actual jester Buggy, the Star Clown, who was somehow a jester and a spy at the same time, screws up the entire mission by accidentally switching their tests, and so Law finds himself having to somehow become Goa's court jester in the name of the mission. All this while the actual jester now has to somehow get close to the king and gain his trust enough to become the royal advisor. It is much to Law's surprise that not only does the foolish king find him funny enough to have him as a jester, but that Buggy somehow earns the king's trust. And for some reason unknown to the gods, said foolish king, Luffy, seems to like Law for more than just morbid jokes.

They were, to say the least, fucked.

[acaciapines]

maybe i start veraposting in the main tags. sosf fans if you’re out there i’d like to apply for vera fanclub leader i think about her so much ive written 40k words of fic about her she’s been in three of my dreams that i can remember and so long as she and leo survive this story intact and happy i will also be happy—

[cutiesgawr]

(🌊) ♪ → Two BigMacs(dicks) ! ♪ ←

(💧)chara.cters; Ronald McDonald, Scaramouche

(☄️) syno.psis; You have some fun time with ronald and oops your boyfriend comes and fucks you infotnt of the clown !><

(🦈)content. warning; riding, rough sex, voyeurism, afab!reader, clown noises, this is a JOKE, making out, cheating but scara blames the clown(as he should!), reader has no wrong

(🌀) notes; Errmmm @nixara , I just wanted to post something then saw something on @kvnis ' blog about nixara wanting smut so yeah!! ^^

Your hands grip at the table as your eyes roll back, your mouth open. His yellow gloves holding your waist, as your cunt tightens around his pale skin dick, the tip of his dick hitting that spot in you, it makes you see tiny Happy meals. You rub at your eyes, wiping around pleasure tears, you let out a loud moan as you can see two reflections, one is you, being bent over a table. The other one being the mascot, with his ironic red hair, clown makeup. He has that ironic smile on his face as he pounds into you, your fingers hurt as you continue to grip at the table. "A-Ah! F-fuvk?! Ronald~!!" You scream as you cream, he blinks as his yellow gloves grip harder at you. "Take his secret sauce, baby!" He says, you moan as turn to face him and honk his clown red nose. It makes an honking sound, you smile as you see another figure. It was an angry, purple haired male. It was your boyfriend! Scaramouche, your angry loving traumatized boyfriend!

"get the fuck off her, clown botch!" His hand reaches up as he honks Ronald's nose, you gasp as Ronald falls to the ground, you gasp as Scaramouche grips at your hips. His hand slapping at your wet creamed pussy, slapping away so the secret sauce will go away from his precious pussy. "This cut is mine, clownie!" he says, you blush as his dick stands hard and his dick enters you, the tip of his dick hitting your spot as he gropes at your chest. Making the clown watch as both of you engage in sex, Scaramouche groans into your ear as he fucks his cunt that belongs to him, scara pinches your clit as he fucks your cunt harder. Your legs shake as your eyes roll back, you bite at your bottom lip as your cunt spasms around his cock. His cock twitches as he busts a nut in ya cunt. You moan as you climax, scara pulls out as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He looks at the clown, smirking.

"so what about a threesome?" Ronald says.

"oh Ronald, you silly clown!" You laugh as a laugh track plays in the background.

Pov; you after a threesome with two clowns.

↓ <3

[happysaddca]

As usual, this is @wyervan's slasher DCA AU.

This was supposed to be silly and maybe a little flirty but something happened. Ellis is a mime. A really bad one.

“Sun.” 

“Hush. You’re ruining your makeup.” 

“But I hate this.” Ellis tries and fails to not flinch when a cold brush traces the curve of their lower lip. Sunny’s tutting does not help. 

“You do this to children all the time Nova. How can you be such a baby about it yourself?” Sun laughs when Ellis pouts, flinching again when the brush touches just under their eye. They kick out at the laugh, but their foot hits only the excess fabric of his costume’s pants. 

“I do not take this long, my paint is not this cold, and they actually know what they’re getting and want it. What are you even using? This isn’t my palette.” Ellis has been sitting for far too long and it feels like Sun’s gone over their entire face, twice. 

“Clever as always. It’s grease paint. We can’t use your regular stuff because it’d crack mid-performance and the only cracking should be the audience, at our jokes.” A pause, but Ellis just shakes their head at Sun, unable to roll their eyes at him. There’s the sound of Sun’s palette and brushes being set aside. “Boo. Anyway, you needed full coverage for today.” 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” 

“Well,” Sun draws the word into meaningless noise. “We could spoil the surprise now, or—” 

“You are not dressing me like a doll Sun.” 

They can hear him droop. “But Nova, I would be ever so polite. I could even just hand you the clothes while you change yourself.”

“You and me both with our eyes closed? You better turn off the security cameras because Moon will use that as blackmail.” Sun laughs while Ellis thinks it over, finally offering a hand. “You don’t gotta keep your eyes closed, but do keep the color commentary to yourself.” 

“Fine, promise.” Sun’s hand is calloused and warm as he guides Ellis to the back of the changing room. He jingles softly with every step. 

“Do I get to wear a pair of your slippers?”

“Do you want to?” 

“Why so surprised?” Ellis can’t help their broad grin, noting that Sun is right; the paint is definitely thick and there, but they can’t feel it crack, just move like an uncomfortable second skin. 

“You always, always, always make fun of Moon and I when we dress up,” Sun says, stopping Ellis with their hand pressed against the back of a locker. “You’ve made it quite clear your opinion on clowns.” 

“I’m teasing. I thought that was obvious? I mean.” They stop to rethink their words. “I like jesters better, but clowns can have their place. And you’re not scary either.” 

“We’re not?” The bells have moved away at this point, and they can hear him digging around. “I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed.” 

“Do you want to be scary?” Ellis pulls off their overshirt, rubbing briskly at their arms because the locker room is cold. Fabric hits the back of their head and they barely swallow back a surprised yelp. Their throat hurts. 

“Maybe,” is the singsong answer, and Ellis does roll their eyes at this point, figuring out they’d just had a shirt tossed at them. After some fiddling for the sleeves and tag, they’re able to pull it on, but there is a new problem. 

“Sun?”

“Nova?” 

“The sleeves are too small.” 

“What?” The surprise is theatrical, but the sudden pressure on their bicep is not. “Flex.” 

“I’ll rip the fabric.” 

“Flex,” Sun repeats, and Ellis sighs even as they oblige, flinching when they feel the sleeve give way. Sun whistles low as you push against his resisting fingers. “How long have you been hiding this from us? Shoulda had you going and picking up the tables instead of Moon ‘n Madiline.” 

Ellis pulls away and drags the shirt off with some trouble, tossing it at the sound of bells. “I need something with more space. Can I open my eyes? Might be able to fix it.” 

“Fine, but no guessing til you see the full piece together.” 

Ellis finds Sun staring at them, his facepaint not masking the obvious delight and curiosity on his 

face. They look at the shirt, black and white striped fabric, one sleeve busted at the shoulder. They stare, then slowly look up at Sun’s chin and his smile. 

“No.” 

“But you haven’t seen the whole thing!” 

“You’ve whitewashed me like a goddamn fence haven’t you?”

“Language Nova,” Sun chides but they ignore him, going to their locker and ripping the door open to look at the dusty little mirror inside. 

“Oh you motherfucking discount Ronald McDonald—” 

“I didn’t realize you’d be this upset about it!” 

“Didn’t—Sun, mimes are all about their performance. I’m not a performer; I’m barely even a person!” They twist on their heels to face Sun before realizing what they said. Sun looks confused, maybe concerned? They hold a hand up. “No.” 

“Nova…” 

“I’m fine. Lucky for both of us I have an excessive amount of black and white striped shirts.” If they could, they’d throw the shirt at him again. But he’s still holding it, fingers plucking at the busted threads. They refuse to look at him, face burning under the paint as they dig in the locker for, yes, good, they still have it. 

It’s a tank top, so they jerk their undershirt off, the compression bandage underneath flexing as they redress. They turn, showing it off. “Suitable?”

“Suitable,” Sun agrees. He’s being sparse with his words, but Ellis ignores that. 

“Where’s the rest of it? And please don’t have me flex my thighs if the pants are too small too.” 

“No more flexing. I’m not sure I can return that shirt now.” 

“I’ll fix it.” Ellis goes back to the locker where Sun had stashed the mime costume. Because of course he’d chosen a mime. A goddamn motherfucking mime whose entire thing are their physicality and Ellis is as performative as a wooden board. 

No. They correct the image. A wooden board would get a standing ovation compared to Ellis. They were as performative as… as pond scum. Useful, but nothing to look at. An assistant at best. 

The pants are serviceable, though they have bright red suspenders that make Ellis feel ridiculous when they slip them on. A scrap of red felt has them frowning as they pull it out. 

“I’m not wearing this.” 

“It finishes the look.” 

“No.” 

A pause. “I’ll get Moon to lend you his shoes.” 

Which is how Ellis ends up on stage with Sun, wearing a forced smile and red beret pinned in place on top of their head. 

Moon’s shoes are half a size too large for them, so the toes are stuffed with paper towels. The kids are too distracted by Sun’s prattle to worry about their half-hearted attempts at mimery. The only people that seem to be paying them any attention are their coworkers and Moon.

They’re trying not to notice, but they can’t not. Without his slippers, Moon’s wearing his street clothes with his ridiculously voluminous pants. Ellis can’t make out his face, but they try for a better smile before tapping on the shoulder, pretending to push a pie in his face. A pretend pie, of course, and the motion’s too stiff. They can feel the failure as it happens, but Sun’s reaction is so natural and real that it almost doesn’t matter. The laughter from Sun’s reeling is warming. 

The bells on Moon’s slippers jingle as they stumble over the toes. They’re harder to walk in than they imagined. Sun catches Ellis by the wrist and pulls them into a dip that leaves them clinging to his arms. “Good job Nova,” he whispers in their ear. “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” Ellis is in fact not ready to be pulled into a twirl and bow, still holding onto Sun’s arm like a lifeline. The applause is scattered. Obligatory. 

At least, that’s the impression Ellis gets. There had been a single bright moment, and it’s gone like the crowd. They stumble away when the kids crowd around Sun, slipping out of the shoes to slip away in socks. “Ellis!” Star’s calling but nope, they need to hide they need to cry.

They hit the door to the employee bathroom and grab at the sink, breathing hard as tears threaten but never come. They’re left instead to listen to themselves wheeze, trying and failing to catch their breath because because 

What’s happening? Why can’t they breathe? They dig for a lighter but these aren’t their pants and their jacket is in the other room and the door squeaks open, bells heralding a clown. Freckles enter their field of view and Ellis tries to shove Sun away, but there’s no contact, just a listless wave in empty air before arms are wrapped tightly around them. 

“Breathe with me. Four seconds in, nice and slow. C’mon Nova. You did well for your first performance!” Ellis shakes their head but Sun doesn’t let them go, curling tighter around them and saying something, a rhyme, a song, something childish and repetitive and calming. 

Ellis opens their mouth to speak and snap it shut again when only a wheeze comes out. A second try. “Don’t make me do that again.” 

“I won’t. We won’t. It’s okay Ellis.” Sun doesn’t complain when Ellis twists in place and presses their face against his neck ruffle, smearing white over the red and gold. It’s itchy and annoying and they hate it but the tears have finally come and it’s made them far too limp to move on their own. They don’t hear the second set of bells until there’s a new pair of arms pulling them up by the armpits and Ellis protests until they see the mess they’ve made of Sun’s costume. 

“I’m sorry,” they say and repeat it, then swallow back a third sorry. 

Sun looks down, grinning at the mess. “Don’t worry about it Els. We’ve certainly had much worse happen.” Moon scoffs, but Ellis still manages to work their way free, forcing themself to stand. “You did well today. Has Moony been giving you lessons?”

“No.” They wobble a little in place, phantom hands tightening over their ribs. No, Moon’s hands. He’d never let go and if they look down, they can see him holding them, the pattern on his skin at odds with the stripes. Was that why he wore stars? “I don’t want to go again. I’m not—I’m not.” They wipe at their eyes, smearing more white over their hand and wrist. “You can let me go.” The hands don’t move. “I just want to go change in my bus.” 

Sun stands again, stretching before reaching behind to pull the dirtied ruff off. “Moon will take you.” He holds a finger up. “Nova, you’re an employee and if you fall and hurt yourself right now, it’s gonna be on Moon and my’s heads. Let him walk you. Please?”

“Okay.” They do grab at those hands, insisting on taking one in their own instead. Smearing more white everywhere. It feels appropriate. A taint of everything they want to care about. They do care about. 

“Moon, don’t let them out of your sight until they’re laying down. No naps.” The exchange goes silent but Sun just smiles again at Ellis. “Come back when you’re ready. There’s plenty to do behind the scenes after all. The work never ends!” And he’s turning again and Ellis is alone with Moon. 

He lets them walk in silence, his hand warm and steady in theirs. It’s at the door to Sue they try to push him away. “I’m technically clocked out now. You don’t have to worry.” 

The silence has them checking his face. It’s as neutral as ever, unreadable. They drop their gaze quickly, the guilt and heat returning all over again. But they can breathe at least. “I’m sorry about fucking things up.” 

“You didn’t.” 

“I fuck everything up.” 

“You don’t.” 

They can’t be satisfied with that, not from Moon of all people. Their eyes hurt, their head hurts, their everything hurts all the way down. “I do! Because if I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be this!” They gesture at the ruined facepaint, the ruined shirt, themselves. And they gesture again before catching themselves, digging their nails into their arms. 

Moon pulls Ellis’s hands away, pinning them to the side of the bus instead. “Don’t.” 

“Why not?” they demand, jerking at Moon’s grip. They nearly get free before Moon adjusts. He doesn’t answer, and Ellis isn’t looking at him for answers. They don’t try again. 

The silence lasts long enough that Ellis calms down and now they’re just embarrassed. And cold. They just had a meltdown at work in front of Sun and Moon and who knows how many bystanders heard and now they don’t know how to tell Moon to please let them go so they can open the gray water tank in Sue and crawl inside to drown. 

Moon does eventually let go, and Ellis’s hands drop at their sides, tingling as bloodflow returns. Moon doesn’t step away, and Ellis can’t exactly open the door like this. They reach out, gently touching Moon’s chest, finding the drawstring of his hoodie. And just holds it, trying to convince themselves to speak, to take ownership of the situation. 

To ask him to stay. Or ask them to stay. Please. 

Moon pulls back, the drawstring slipping out of their fingers. And he’s gone, walking back into the arcade and leaving Ellis to slowly slide down to the ground, trying not to cry until they’re able to crawl inside and out of the public eye.

[tyrantisterror]

Wherefore Art Thou Clownfucker?

A while back I made a post explaining why vampires appeal to me, and while it was mostly in a more general sense, there was a specific focus on why I find them, you know, hot. And it was that was in part because I had recently discovered that I'm apparently surrounded by Werewolf fuckers on here, much to my dismay as a Vampire fucker. It's like being the only goth kid at a rockabilly concert or something. I felt defensive, is the point! I needed to go to bat (heh) for my pale ladies (and Astarion.... and Spike)!

And now, because Muncher compels me to do so, I'm doing the same for Clowns. My other pale ladies.

Now, keep in mind the fact that I'm a monsterfucker first and foremost, and that my clownfuckery is really more derived from my monsterfuckery. I imagine the middle section of the Clownfucker/Monsterfucker diagram is pretty big, but I also know there are some clownfuckers who are very much NOT monsterfuckers, and vice versa. This is not the case for vampirefuckers, who are nestled firmly within the monsterfucker circle, because while all vampires are monsters, not all clowns are monsters. I bring this up because while I'm gonna try to explain clownfuckery on its own terms, there is likely going to be some monsterfucker bias in my explanations and defense. That's just how it is on this bitch of an earth!

I'm gonna get real pretentious here and talk about the historic role of clowns for a moment. From Comedia del Arte harlequins to medieval court Jesters, the clown's role has always been that of Comic Relief. They are, simply put, here to be tonally dissonant - when everyone else is serious and dramatic, a clown comes in as this weird, silly, incongruously hilarious element that contrasts the gravity of everything around them. "Relief" is really the key word here - a clown's job is to provide levity when otherwise there would be none. When everything is dark, they provide a little light.

That's the core emotional appeal of clownfucking - a clown is/should be someone who can make you smile when you need it the most. Kingdom's at war, family's fighting, your life's in shambles? The clown will make you laugh. Everything feels dark and gloomy and depressing? Here comes a silly little goofball wearing bright, clashing colors and jingling with each step because they're covered in bells, and all they want to do is tell jokes until you start laughing. Clowns are, by intent, that sweet sweet hit of dopamine personified.

Clowns are here to make you smile.

Another important historical detail about clowns is their unique place in the hierarchy of society - namely, being entirely outside of it. A jester was in some respects the lowest person on the totem pole, a fool that had power over no one and nothing, living to be laughed at. Yet, because they had no power over anyone, it was generally poor taste to take offense to anything a jester said, which meant they could talk more freely than anyone else - when everyone else acts like a butt-kissing sycophant, a jester is free to talk shit and speak their mind.

The traditional attire and appearance of clowns plays into both of these traits: the bright, gaudy clothing and makeup is silly, yes, but it's also a sign that the clown does not give a single shit about fashion and other social norms. A clown is, by nature, an anomaly, a misfit, a rebel.

Nowadays we have another word for people with that attitude. Clowns are punk.

Weird makeup, crayola red hair, patchwork clothes...

I would say the very fact that "normal" people look at clownfucking as some sort of inexplicable fetish is, in fact, part of the appeal. It's a form of xenophilia, of attraction to things that are different and othered, a love for outsiders and misfits and oddballs. To fuck a clown is to show love and adoration for something outside of the realm of what is socially acceptable - something silly, goofy, and weird, yet also often harmless. After all, a clown's main purpose is to make you smile.

That's not to say that clowns have to be harmless to be attractive, mind you. Tons of people, many much smarter than I, have talked about the cultural shift of our perception of clowns that began somewhere in the 1980's. Clowns went from being viewed as genuinely fun and cute to primarily being figures of fear and terror - if a clown shows up in modern media, even if it's innocuous, there will always be at least one character who vocally talks about how creepy they think clowns are.

That may in part be due to the fact that clowns have such a benign mission statement - a lot of people, especially nowadays, do not trust a person who claims they just want to make others happy. Anyone who acts like that MUST be up to something - there must be something nefarious going on, some evil plan, some lurking danger.

Which is where you REALLY bring the monsterfuckers in.

You really don't need to do that much with a clown's design to push it firmly into monster territory - "a pale person with sharp teeth" is the bare minimum it takes to make a vampire, after all (and even the pale part can be downplayed).

And a clown's dedication to making things "funny" can make for a very enjoyably-scary persona for a monster - hell, half the appeal of the Addams Family is that they're a bunch of freakish inhuman monsters who react to a bunch of scary shit with absolute delight and adoration. Again, the tonal dissonance element is at play here, albeit in a different way - even when Clowns are the darkness in your world, they still bring light in the sense that they view it that darkness as funny in of itself.

(hell, the word "harlequin" means "five horns," and may be rooted in folkloric monsters like Herne the Hunter depending on who you ask, so in a way clowns have always been monster-coded)

I think all of this is pretty well exemplified in the current Patron Saint of Clownfuckers, the goddess of Clownfuckery if you will, Harley Quinn. Hailing from a story whose main setting is such a Gothic Horror-inspired nightmarish shithole of a city that it's literally called Gotham, surrounded by characters who are at least 60% gothic horror archetypes by volume, opposed by a hero who literally dresses like a Dracula, it is inarguable that Harley Quinn is surrounded by darkness that's both literal and figurative.

But she's always smiling, and not in an ironic way.

Harley Quinn suffers intense abuse, she's drawn into wicked schemes, and in the way of most modern clowns, she causes no small amount of mayhem and suffering herself. But even at her darkest, she's always smiling, always trying to find the bright side.

She's a rebel, she's a punk. Almost everyone thinks she's beneath them. Almost all of those people get proven they're wrong. In a world full of tyrannical hierarchies, she steps outside of them.

She's an outsider, a misfit, an oddball. And she wants to make you smile.

I think you can probably see the appeal of that.

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ ICP Agere ໒ ˚⁎

Ah! Uh... um... uuu... V-Violent J (ICP) CG headcanons (and maybe one shot)!?!?!?!??!?!?!?

•Despite his intense stage persona, Violent J has a deeply protective side. He would be fiercely loyal to his little, always making sure they feel safe and secure, much like how he’s protective of his Juggalo family

•Humor as Comfort : Violent J would use his dark, offbeat humor to cheer up his little one. He knows just how to lighten the mood with a joke or a funny story, making his little laugh even on tough days

•Given his creative nature, Violent J would encourage imaginative play. Whether it’s drawing crazy clowns together, telling wild stories, or coming up with funny characters, he’d make sure playtime is always fun and creative

•Music would be a big part of how Violent J takes care of his little star. He might play soft, comforting tunes or even sing funny, made-up songs to help them relax. His deep love for music would shine through in how he uses it to bond with you

•Violent J is no stranger to dark thoughts, so he’d be great at talking through fears or anxieties with his little. He’d stay up late, listening and offering reassurance, helping them feel understood and supported

•Big Heart, Big Hugs : Violent J is known for his larger-than-life personality, but he’s also got a big heart. He’d give the best, most comforting bear hugs, wrapping his little bunny up in his big arms and letting them know they’re cared for

•Understanding the struggles people go through, Violent J would create a judgment-free zone for his little. He’d accept them exactly as they are, encouraging them to express themselves without fear of being judged

•Violent J might incorporate some Juggalo-themed fun into their time together, like painting faces with playful clown makeup or having mini "gatherings" where they just chill, eat snacks, and enjoy each other’s company

•Just as he stands up against the mainstream for his Juggalos, Violent J would fiercely defend his little from any negativity or bullying. He’d make sure they know he’s got their back, no matter what !

•Violent J knows life can be tough, so he’d be all about teaching his little one resilience. Through gentle encouragement and real talk, he’d help them develop strength and confidence, always reminding them that they’re capable of facing anything life throws their way

•He is incredibly patient and intuitive when caring for a non-verbal age regressor. He uses lots of non-verbal communication, like high-fives, thumbs-ups, or funny faces, to connect

•He’ll carry around a little notepad or doodle board for them to express themselves, knowing how to read their moods without needing words. He’s all about creating a comfortable, safe space where they don’t feel pressured to speak

•If his little is sick, Violent J turns into a surprisingly doting caregiver. He’s quick to get them tucked in with blankets, fetches soup ( or whatever comfort food he thinks will cheer them up ), and cracks silly jokes to keep their spirits high

•He’ll binge-watch cartoons with them all day, never letting them feel alone. He’s all about giving extra TLC, even if it means calling off his own plans to make sure they’re okay !

•Handling a Tantrum : When his little throws a tantrum, J is surprisingly calm. He’s been through a lot of chaos, so a little yelling or crying doesn’t phase him. He lets them express their frustration without judgment, offering them a safe space to let it all out

•When they’re ready, he’ll step in with a distraction, maybe a favorite snack, a funny story, or turning up the music to dance it out. He always ends tantrums with a hug, reminding them that it’s okay to feel big emotions

•On rainy days, Violent J sees it as the perfect excuse to stay in and get cozy. He’s all about building a fort with blankets and pillows, turning the room into a little hideaway from the storm. He’ll put on their favorite movies, pop popcorn, and pretend the rain is applause from the outside world. If they’re up for it, he might even take them to splash in puddles, embracing the rain like an adventure rather than something to avoid !

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[butchlesbiancosmo]

putting on the clown wig and makeup for this one, but you know the bar is UNDERGROUND when my undisputed top pick for timmy’s love interest is the girl who appears in ONE episode. Out of TEN seasons. From the darkest and least liked era of the show. And like, the episode itself wasn’t even particularly good either. Never to be acknowledged in any shape or form ever again.

All because she was super niceys to timmy and happily reciprocated his feelings:

T: Sooooo Missy, does this mean you like me? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

M: I’ve always liked you, Timmy! Do you like me? ☺️

LIKE. BRUH. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(that and also the fact that timmy got so nervous and tongue twisted just at the idea of talking to her. which to me feels like a more genuine reaction out of timmy towards anyone rather than him trying to be all suave and cool with like, trixie or cindy. baby boy momence 🥺)

(that and ALSO that joke at the end that was like

M: Hi, Timmy!

Timmy: Hi, Missy!

M (absolutely delighted): Wow! That’s the most normal thing you’ve said to me all day! Wanna go to the movies with me?

like JEJFBEKKFKSJTJWKF. I don’t care about most of this ep but this part was so fucking funny. They’re so silly <3)

[apollodarling-writes]

What would yandere levi think of clown reader would he be scared

oh for sure, he’d be terrified but would do his best not to show it. he’d be jumpy and skittish, always glancing around him and watching you make balloons with bated breath. levi wouldn’t fully understand this fear and would try to suppress it, but the moment you turn and smile at him, he nearly shits himself.

all jokes aside, levi would know that it’s you and for that reason the experience would be just a touch less scary. he would consider it exposure therapy in some form. the more he sees the good you do, the less he fears clowns as a whole, and the more he falls in love with you.

even better if you hand out candy to children with him. though, i will say, he really doesn’t like your makeup. he thinks the outfit itself is a bit silly, with the shoes that are too big and click-clack when you walk, the colorful attire that you dress in, and the vibrant wigs you put on.

if you really wanna scare the shit out of him, dress in monochrome and do your makeup in black and white as well — be sure to put a frowny face instead of a smile — and stand in the corner of his bedroom until he wakes up.

[dizzyditzblitz]

queuing this rn but more headcanons maybe more just little miscellaneous/random/silly

tw: scar mentions

very accident prone with like- mundane things (please dont let him in the kitchen)

good cook though, especially baking

very high pain tolerance; absolutely jokes about it

has costumes of each kind of jester/clown/mime (although him being a mime is rare)

idk probably likes yogurt? but like— tart yogurt

can't stand coffee; loves tea though

also definitely critiques movies; is willing to watch "good" bad movies

he either loves or hates Adam Sandler

i feel like he definitely has some scars; maybe due to rope burn around his arms

probably likes painting over them

definitely has a pet snake; probably named her something like— Quartz or smthn (something cheesy /nm /pos)

scared of bugs though; will contain all screams so not to appear weak, but definitely shivers when they pop up

has definitely tripped on his tail coat before

please let him do s/o's makeup; even makeup that isn't like— clown makeup—he's real good at it

definitely dresses in suits when need be, but he will also definitely have one of those comical flowers in his shirt pocket

and/or a goofy patterned tie/dress shirt

would also probably want to do s/o's hair

also definitely would want to match outfits/color match

probably enjoys thrift shopping

remembers all the little things, but would probably play it off/play coy if asked/brought to his attention

please remind him to eat, actively forgets; gets too busy to really take the time

there's probably ribbon/thread/glitter/pompoms and a whole bunch of miscellaneous crafts throughout the house

probably also pockets a like— sewing kit; just in case

definitely tries to make s/o laugh; just as an on the hour thing

but definitely tries to make s/o laugh the hardest in public; he will NOT embarrass s/o but definitely embarrasses himself

i feel like the tip of his tongue peeks through when trying to desperately hold in laughter

also absolutely snorts when laughing his hardest, but anyone has yet to achieve such luxurious title

HATES boardgamess; also will ABSOLUTELY beat others at them

very competitive

[amidstthemists]

You, a troublemaker, have a chance encounter with Buggy when he and his crew raid the ship you’re on.

You were always the jokester on your ship. The rest of the crew tolerated it, but jokes were your bread and butter. As a pirate, the days were long and the work was hard and you’d be damned if you didn’t keep yourself amused with silly rhymes, one liners, snarky comebacks, absurdisms, whatever you could come up with, really. Usually you were responded to with a roll of the eyes, a suffering sort of smile, even silence, but sometimes you said a real zinger and got the crew to come together in laughter. Those were the best times. But you enjoyed some of the less tolerant reactions too. You found a particular enjoyment in being a menace.

When your ship was taken over by a group of theatrically inclined circus pirates, everyone in your crew was certain they would all be dying in strange, unusual, and possibly theatrical ways. That was what you were prepared for, too. And, sure, it was unfortunate, but at least the lighting was sure to be great and your inevitable demise was sure to be creative. Being a pirate, believe it or not, was often very tedious business unless you were actively in the middle of some mischief. Dying sucked, but at least it would be interesting and keep you occupied.

And your good humor, much to your captured crew’s chagrin, was there to keep you company until the theatrically inclined circus pirates figured out what to do with the lot of you.

When a certain clownish pirate captain made an appearance, sauntering around the deck of your ship as if he owned the place, a member from your crew elbowed you hard in the ribs and warned, “Better not be planning any funny business.”

If your hands weren’t already raised in surrender with the rest of the crew, you would have put them up defensively. But a mischievous smile was playing on your lips as you said, “Who knows what I’m planning?”

“Who said something about my nose?!” Captain Buggy’s voice was so loud that everyone jumped at the exclamation.

Your eyes moved over the fine yet intimidating figure that was the invading clown pirate captain. His outfit was flashy and makeup was unapologetically clownish. He moved with a grace and confidence that belied the outrage he clearly felt over a comment on his nose. You realize that he must have been insecure (and, overall, overcompensating) for something, but what really got your attention was the frown that defied how his makeup stretched into a smile. His makeup begged for him to smile and, aside from whatever insecurity he harbored, he looked like he could take a good joke. It would be a shame if he couldn’t take a good joke, after all, since he was, in fact, a clown.

Everyone averted their eyes when he stared them down, shining blue eyes roving over each member of the crew you belonged to. Everyone, that is, except you. You looked back at him, unwavering, an amused grin on your face.

“What’re you smiling about?” He questioned, taking a few lumbering steps over to you. He was so tall and moved with such unique grace, such intense purpose.

“What? People can’t smile when they see a clown anymore?” You asked back, daring to lower your hands only to be jabbed in the ribs again, this time by a member of Buggy’s crew. Your hands darted back up into a surrender, but you rolled you eyes as you did it. “I thought that was, like, the whole point. And, anyway, you should think about smiling more. A frowny clowny is a little bit of a contradiction, I would think.”

Buggy advanced until he grabbed ahold of your collar and said, head cocked and inches from your face, “Well, Captain Frowny Clowny is a little pissy-wissied because some fuck-twat should have kept their mouth shut instead of talking about something that wasn’t their business. And, come to think of it, I could have sworn that voice came from your direction. Do you know anything about that, princess?”

You could feel his breath on your cheeks, could feel how strong his hand was, and wondered in equal parts what it would be like to be kissed by someone like him and what it would be like to be thrown overboard by someone with such enthusiasm. When you smiled again, his eyes flickered to your lips before darting back to lock gazes with you. He was impatient like a man but as feral as an animal in his intensity.

“I do.”

“Oh, really? Pray, why don’t you share with the class what you know?” If he was an animal, he liked to play with his food before he ate it.

You felt everyone’s eyes on you and you knew that he felt them too: the captive audience for his performance. But he didn’t know that you liked an audience, too.

“All I was saying was—“

“—so it was you who had something to say. Why am I not surprised?—“

“Hush, I’m not done.” Your voice was a little choked from how the collar cut into your throat, but you pushed on anyway, smile as unwavering as the rest of you. “All I was saying was that why are you so upset about your nose when you have so much more to worry about? I mean,” you wheezed out a giggle at how the expression on his face changed, “I mean, you have twice as many eyes as you do noses and you’re acting like your nose is your biggest problem. What’s up with that?”

“What?”

“And don’t even get me started on your ears.”

You and Buggy stared at each other in silence. The whole ship seemed to be holding a collective breath. Your smile settled into a closed mouthed, triumphant smirk, and when he looked at you like he was trying to read another language, you wiggled your eyebrows. Then, just when you thought he was going to throw you overboard after all, a smile broke through the clown’s determinedly fierce looking scowl and you two started to laugh together.

He released his grip on your collar, smoothed down your shirt, and slung an arm over your shoulder. “You’re not half bad, princess.” He started to lead you away from your crew. “You know, I’m feeling generous.” He looked to his crew, “Take the loot, take whatever you want, but they get to live. Go crazy. Let’s give them some stories to take back to port about Captain Buggy and his dastardly crew.”

He waited for the chaos and carnage to start before looking back to you. “Have you ever thought about running away with the circus? Because do I have an offer for you…”

[agonethetic]

Buggy as a concept for a character is so buckwild yet on point with what we understand to be tomfoolery and circus antics

You mean to tell me this guy—who was BORN with a large, red round nose, typically associated with clowns—decided to build his entire brand around that nose and being a clown, and then BITCHES ABOUT IT anytime someone points it out.

Buggy decided one day to own the nose, started doing his makeup like a clown, started dressing like a clown, didn’t like it, and instead of just being like “Nah, maybe I don’t like people associating my persona with my nose like how I initially planned” DOUBLED DOWN AND KEPT WITH IT. So he’s essentially making himself the butt of the joke. The goofs are happening at his expense. The plywood slab keep hitting him and he keeps getting up and KEEPS GETTING HIT.

And then you just see his track record and it makes sense, because this mfker has continuously taken the wrong step in the right direction. It works for him. AND HE HATES IT. BUT HE KEEPS DOING IT.

What an absolute silly mess of a man.

[rabbits-foot-reqs]

HELLOO!! ITS TEH FREAK YOU WERE TALKING TO EARLIER 👹

can I please request a clown themed alter? We already have the name figured out but everything else I really need help with I’m sorry!!!😭

sent by -@alter-bartender

It was super fun to make this!! We hope this helps!!!

✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺

Name(s): [The name u chose lol], Bonnie, Bunny, Dixie, Rocket, Scooter, Applejuice, Patty, Bubbles

Age: 19-25

Pronouns: He/Him, It/Its, H!/H!m, !t/!ts, Dot/Dots, Pom/Poms, Fun/Funs, Balloon/Balloons, Silly/Sillies, Joy/Joys

Gender(s): Clowngender, transmascneu butch, luenboy, b…y, raccoon 

Sexuality: Clown Gaybian, lesboy, lesbian…?

Species: Human:) Clown...?

Race: White/Caucasian

Likes/interests: tying balloons, dancing, playing pranks, telling jokes, listening to loud music, doing makeup

Dislikes: judgemental normies, gloomy/dark aesthetics, pessimism, spiders

Boundaries: don't play bad jokes on !t, don't be a buzzkill on purpose, don't judge joys style

Fav/Associated song: Straight Face - Younger Hunger

Sign-off: -🌈🎉

Faceclaim: 

Made by: mod 🖖🏽

✺ ✺ ✺ ✺ ✺

[sweethoneyrose83]

Clowncore Ask Game

🎪 If you were a clown, what would your signature color palette be?

🤡 Describe your ideal clown costume in three words.

🎈 What would your clown name be, and what would your act involve?

🍭 What's your go-to silly prop? A rubber chicken, a giant lollipop, or something else?

🥁 If your life had circus music, what instrument would play your theme?

🎨 How would you paint your clown makeup—minimal or maximalist chaos?

🃏 Would you be a playful clown or a mysterious, slightly eerie one?

🧸 What's your favorite childhood toy that could make an appearance in your clown act?

🎉 What’s the wackiest sound effect you would use in your clown routine?

🎥 If you could live inside any absurd cartoon or movie, which one would it be?

🎤 Karaoke time: What's your most unexpected or bizarre go-to song?

🌈 What’s your favorite whimsical item in your wardrobe right now?

🛼 Are you more of a roller skates or unicycle type of clown?

🎂 If clowns had a secret cake flavor, what would yours taste like?

🧦 Socks or no socks with oversized clown shoes? And how ridiculous would the socks be?

🧠 What’s the weirdest idea you’ve ever had that would actually make a great clown performance?

🧼 Balloon animals or soap bubbles? What would be your magical medium?

🎩 How tall would your clown hat be, and what would you hide inside it?

🍦 You can only eat one ridiculous carnival food forever—what is it?

🦄 Unicorns or dragons as sidekicks in your clown world?

🎬 What would the plot of your surreal clown movie be?

🎭 Do you think clowns are secretly philosophers or chaotic tricksters?

🔮 What’s your ultimate clowncore aesthetic: pastel dreams, neon chaos, or something in between?

🍉 If your clown character had a pet, what would it be, and how bizarre would it act?

🌪️ Would you rather juggle fire, water balloons, or lightning bolts?

🕶 If clowns had a secret code, what would your clowncore emoji be?

🎪 What would be your most dramatic entrance into a circus ring?

🐍 Would you rather have a silly snake, an outrageous octopus, or a mischievous monkey as part of your act?

🌟 How would you add a sprinkle of glitter to everything you touch?

📸 What would your signature “photo face” be if you were captured in a candid clown moment?

Would you rather juggle bowling pins or flamingos?

What's the silliest thing you can do in under 10 seconds?

How many balloons do you think you can blow up before floating away?

What’s your go-to pie flavor for pie-throwing contests?

If clowns ran the world, what would the national anthem sound like?

Would you rather have a rainbow wig or squeaky shoes forever?

If your nose honked every time you told a lie, how would you get through a day?

What's the most clownish superpower you’d want to have?

If you could only wear oversized shoes for the rest of your life, how would you adapt?

What circus animal do you relate to the most and why?

Would you rather live in a clown car or a giant balloon house?

If you had to perform a circus act, what would it be?

How many clowns do you think can fit into your room right now?

What’s your favorite way to make someone laugh uncontrollably?

Would you rather have a pet clownfish or a pet clown?

If your house was filled with confetti every morning, how would you clean it up?

What’s your signature sound effect?

Would you rather wear polka dots or stripes for the rest of your life?

How would you celebrate a national clown holiday?

What’s the best joke you've ever heard (even if it’s terrible)?

How many rubber chickens do you think you can balance on your head?

If you could turn any object into a balloon animal, what would it be?

Would you rather ride a unicycle everywhere or walk on stilts?

If you had to communicate only in clown noises for a day, how would it go?

[the-s1lly-corner]

Are you still writing for Creepypasta characters? If so, can we have a laughing Jack x Pierrot!Reader?

Laughing Jack x Pierrot!reader

Admittedly I had to look up what a pierrot was BUT I think I understand the basics- or maybe not, we'll see!

And yeyeye I'm still writing for creepypasta! I think that's the one fandom I'm never gonna stop writing for, even if it may seem like it with gaps between writing for it

Hey you, Readers! Do you want to possibly win a raffle for customized posts with your favorite characters and your ocs? You can enter through the link in my pinned before march 27th!

If you wewr makeup hes going to want to offer to do it for you.. which.. actually isnt that bad of an idea, he's actually good at applying it! Just let him know what you want and hes going to do his best!

If you wear the loose baggy clothes that a lot of pierrots seem to wear hes going to think it's a little silly looking, and only lightly tease you for it. Probably jokes that you look like you're wearing pajamas or something along those lines

Of course he doesn't actually mean anything by it

Sometimes yoinks your hat (if you have one) and wears it for himself... might give it back if you ask him nicely

Sometimes does some bits and jokes with you if you do clown stuff as a career if you're not a "clown as in non human creature", though get ready for it to go anywhere because jack is

Well all over the place as is, even if theres a goal or task happening

Softly encourages you and hypes you up if you falter