#ugly clown tag

[zanguntsu]

bleach characters as randomly generated inspirational quotes

mayuri

ulquiorra

renji

grimmjow

shinji

kisuke

[leggalese]

I'm fully convinced that Feen wasn't a precious angel and was a massive brat in his own way. If he didn't get his favorite part in a play or if his artwork would get lambasted by a teacher he'd throw the most diva fit and insist how unfair the world is. He also most likely thought his peers were less talented than him and would freely butt in to critique their work only to cry foul if the same would be done to him. He was born petty.

On the right is an imagined scenario of him and Miles being study buddies. Everyone would have such a miserable time together <3.

[artfulacrostic]

memes for The Bad Batch 3x08, "Bad Territory"

*spoilers*

[bryverros]

YAP MY LIEGE WHAT ARE THE HAPPENINGS IN THY KINGDOM

im going to be real immature on main so turn a blind eye guys

so. my beloved firefighter show. first, a brief introduction to the massive fandom drama. we have buck, eddie and tommy. buck and eddie are best friends since season 2 episode 1 (we are on season 8), tommy becomes an important(?) character in season 7.

- buck and tommy are canonically in a relationship. i want them broken up asap. its not even personal. i just dont think they work, even all the buckandeddie theories aside. and if they do break up, i will call it a win and clap my hands jollily. their fanbase is honestly making me feel stupid because theyre acting like bucktommy is this soulmates endgame couple and i tried seeing it. but i just dont.

exhibit 1. eddie appears in practically every single bucktommy scene. and when he didnt appear directly, he sure as hell was mentioned. a lot. which??? weird??? considering the fact that bucktommy are supposed to be in a relationship and very in love. like maybe i dont know shit about dating but im pretty sure that its objectively weird to include the best friend in all scenes the couple has. so far, in s8, buck and tommy had one (1) scene. and it had eddie in it.

then there’s the whole weird thing on how buck and tommy got together in the first place and one might argue that buck was trying to get eddie’s attention, not tommy’s. so like yeah eddie sure is haunting their narrative a lot and for seemingly no reason which kind of stops me from feeling attached to the ship. which i tried initially before i started praying on their breakup.

- in the scenes buck and tommy (+eddie. cant forget that he was there) did have. sigh. their dynamics is just weird. first of all, tommy is older than buck. like, he was in the flashbacks of the older coworkers (he was kind of racist and kind of homophobic and misogynistic in those too, but ok ill let that pass, people change blah blah). and he called buck kid before they got together. which. sigh. im generally against age gaps i dont fw that stuff and theyre not letting me forget that they do have an age gap. but fine, ill put the age gap aside. theyre both adults so yk. surely it wont be THAT bad. alas. it is. moving to the next exhibit

exhibit 2. the bachelor party. so buck is really excited to organise this themed party for their his brother in law (a dude tommy was kind of racist towards in the flashback btw). the theme is. 80s. buck and eddie do matching costumes (suggested by eddie. very enthusiastically)! matching each others freak! yay! what does tommy do. he arrives in a henley. and as a person who kind of relates to buck in a way that i get excited about things. tommy’s low effort uninterestingness wouldve kind of been hurtful to me? like the way he casually kind of discarded that excitement buck had about this party was giving “im not interested in your interests babe 🫶” and from personal experience! not nice! and buck already had like a shit ton of self esteem issues and like yeah im projecting but please please break up w tommy you deserve better buck please

- name. so evan buckley has been going by buck. everyone calls him buck except his parents (bad. he doesnt like that) and his sister. sometimes. tommy calls him evan all the fucking time. which feels. condescending. i do not like it in the slightest. break up bucktommy. for me. please.

now! onto the clowning part.

ok look. buck and eddie. theyre so special. their friendship is so special. and if they go canon. that would be absolutely historical. like a queer non established from the beginning romance? that has 6+ years of shared history? they were friends before they were lovers and they could be THE friends to lovers in my eyes. and look if they dont go romantic, i really wont be that sad? their friendship kind of remains regardless so like while i do think it would be bold and take some good writing to have them go down the romantic line. i also do really cherish their friendship. but i am strongly gaslit that they will go romantic. to the point where i fear that im clowning about it.

- the actor playing buck recently said that he wants some slowburn for buck. some will they wont they kind of relationship. that the audience will have to yearn for. like my man your character is in a relationship and that relationship came together in, let me check… 2 episodes? slowburn? bucktommy? i have a VERY hard time believing that. there were a whole bunch of other quotes that could be interpreted as bucktommy breakup (yay 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶). like you dont see any other member of the cast speaking about their love interest the same way this man does about tommy.

- the episodes 5 and 6 are centred on buck and eddie respectively. episode 5 will have tommy “weirded out by something about buck” (surprise surprise). episode 6 is called confessions. eddie has a lot of potential queer coding (eddie: “i just hate having to date. it feels like i have to perform”; someone else about eddies relationship: “just make sure youre following your heart. not christopher’s [his son]” ahh stuff). and episode 6 is centred on him. it also is coming out on nov 7th, 2 days after the infamous destiel election day. so having eddies coming out in that episode would be the funniest thing ever. and the marketing for these episodes is driving me insane. like. will they. wont they. will they. wont they. i feel like im clowning so hard but i also feel like i cant be wrong about this stuff yk? too many coincidences?

so yeah. episode 5 is coming out today. wish me luck (bucktommy breakup ⁉️)

[yume-fanfare]

bad tshirt idea

[notgumypuff]

You know that one Miku in your OC universe trend thingy hehehehe

[sheriffclownkins]

THE JOKER COULD NEVER

[poisonousquinzel]

Batman & The Joker: The Deadly Duo (2023) #5

"yeah...maybe missed a few baths too."

I hate this mother fucker so much.

"maybe missed a few baths" yeah no shit. she wasn't staying in a high end hotel with a fucking jacuzzi you self absorbed jackass.

She's literally been in a damned hole in the ground, being held hostage and barely eating but oohhhhh how shocking that she didn't have time to "make herself physically appealing and presentable"

Also, why the fuck are we still at this point??? Why's she with him 😭 the day DC stops letting these people make stories where it reverts her back to the center point of her trauma is the day I'll know mild peace.

[aroacedavestrider]

jump off a cliff

hi Roxy Trans Woman Anon. unfortunately i live in ohio and as such its flat as fuck here so if you really truly want me to do that then you gotta buy me a plane ticket to somewhere with mountains. if you dont have the cash then get to finding it girlboss !! that coin wont bag itself !!! xoxo

[typinggently]

I think the one thing that would stand in the way of Sam/fem!Dean is that Sammy does usually go for petite girls and Dean would be like. 5'7-5'9. That woman would be 180cm+ tall.

[hungry-monkey]

media dump because this stupid motherfucker is finally fully borned

[shalayce]

Drew myself as an ugly clown bc that’s just how I’m feeling

[lucygraysboy]

it’s now or never, billy tells himself, rolling onto his side as his forearms begin to go numb. he either cuts all ties to his past and lucy gray now or she’ll keep coming back, doing what she’s done earlier today, bombarding his phone with strange messages that feel more like invisible knives, cutting into his heart, haunting him. he can’t say what’s possessed him to type all those cold, cruel words when he could have just blocked her number, but there’s no taking them back now, not when she’s already viewed them. awaiting her response, he contemplates his choices and can’t say that he’s proud of them, but once again reassures himself that it had to be done. she doesn’t want him. she’s been playing mind games with him, giving him nothing but mixed signals basically ever since they both hit puberty. he can’t be hung up on her, waste away his life because she’s not done messing with his heart just yet. and so he doesn’t think about the consequences of his actions, about how his texts might affect his childhood sweetheart the other, because he won’t be there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart or witness the aftermath first-hand. 

when his phone lights up again, he presses play almost automatically. it’s like ripping off the band-aid. he knows there’s nothing pleasant awaiting him, quite the opposite, but postponing this moment won’t make it hurt any less. tears well up in his pale blue eyes the second lucy gray’s voice fills the air, part of him feeling like she’s right beside him or talking to him from the other room, his chest constricting violently. he’s dead to her. good. but then why doesn’t it feel good? isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time? as more words keep pouring out, he realizes that he’s not the only one crying, that she sounds so different because she must be fighting back tears. it hits him at once, all the memories of her bambi eyes, so big and innocent, glistening with sadness. when she begins to belittle her looks, he sits up and cradles his head in his hands, fingers sinking into his dark curls, pulling, tugging until his scalp’s gone numb. none of this is true. not a single word. he wants to scream and cry and get on the first plane back home just to beg her for forgiveness, but… he can’t turn back now. he’s made his bed, now he has to lie in it. 

by the time she gets to the part about their mothers, how his own would be ashamed of him, how he doesn’t have the right to insult hers, he’s overcome with fear and heartbreak and anger, and barely listening. he throws his phone at the wall out of sheer helplessness, her voice stopping abruptly mid-sentence. he will not remember much from this moment in the morning, his emotions too strong, his grief all-consuming — he’d felt this way before only once when he learned about his mother’s death. now it’s lucy gray. she’s the one passing away and he can’t save her… or maybe he’s the one holding the knife that’s cutting her heart out. either way, the pain of losing her, really losing her, is so great that even his lungs constrict, and suddenly it seems he’ll never be able to breathe again. he races to the bathroom and doesn’t even lock the door, climbing into the shower with his underwear still on. originally, he only intends to cry, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth, letting the cold water wash away his tears, but then he spots the scissors just sitting there on the counter. he crawls out and picks them up, and soon his dark curls are falling into the sink, one ringlet after another as he begins to chop off his hair. billy’s dead. he’s dead to her. and she’s always loved his locks so… it somehow makes sense. the water keeps running, muffling out any desolate sounds that might leave his mouth. he uses the razor to shave off what’s left of his beautiful hair, and then, once he’s exhausted both physically and emotionally, his body finally sinks to the floor and somehow more tears fill his eyes… he stays on the bathroom floor until charlie finds him in the morning.

she expected some smart ass reply again, but not another shock. not another knife to her chest. ripping out what's measly left of her heart. for a moment she just continued to stare at the screen like it wasn't real– this was just a nightmare she'd wake up from, her heart lurching, panging, feeling the actual painful vibrations those detrimental words took a toll on her beat against her ribcage. forget typing, she pressed voice record,

‘i dont know but you’ve gone too far now billy bonney, you’re dead to me now’ she hiccuped, her throat constricting, ‘like you're one to attack my looks. don't get so high above your raisin'. like you haven’t always been that dorky lil boy in school? but you know what,’ she bit her lower lip to keep it from wobbling, sucking in a breath, ‘i always thought you were the most handsome one there.’ her nose sniffed, ‘not anymore... not ever.' voice cracking, a hard cry tearing from her throat. wailing as she clutched her shirt at the hurt that caused, 'you’re the ugliest person on the inside. usin' me like an object, while thinkin' i'm ugly. maybe i am...but you got nothin' but the devil in you for sayin' shit like that to me. and yeah, your mother WOULD be a damn shamed of you at what you've turned into.' it's not an attack, it's the truth. she knows his mother as well as he does, it wasn't like she didn't spend endless days with her too. lucy gray loved his mama as much as he did, her cries become even more out of control because she can't just go over and tell her how he's acting anymore. can't just go over and tell her to help her make this better.

because she's gone, neither of them have her anymore. he's selfish even more if he thinks she didn't see her as her second mom she could confide in. a mom she mourns everyday, too. 'and don't call MY mama names, she'd be even more ashamed of you,' she gritted her teeth in a streak of anger, jabbing the bed with her finger, 'she's been nothin' but KIND to you all these years and loved you like her own ALL these years. you can hate me all you want to cause jesse told you to, but she did nothin' to you. but it don't fuckin' matter anyway,' chest heaving, coughing up the words her throat was so terribly tight as the tears continued to explode out of her eyes, 'you're dead to me, billy bonney.' she hit stop on the voice record then sent. DEAD. he was dead to her as she finished screaming and crying into the mattress. she might as well hit block on his contact number because she didn't want to provoke anymore evil things he might say to her, but she couldn't dare move right now, not when she could do nothing but wear herself exhausted with the violent emotions he'd turned over in her head all from one line.

[wistaliia]

what the fuck is mochette i'm confiscating the french language until the girlbloggers calm down

[almostempty]

the meet ugly (javier peña x f!reader) 

WC: 1.6k | Other fics | Rating: it’s ? fluff? No smut

last one for today, sry for spamming anyone, it was an all-or-nothing scenario in my mind 

Summary: your bad day gets worse when a trash bag spills on you. your neighbor javi tries to help but you both get stuck trapped with him and a dumpster. 

Note: this was for the meet-cute, but i had to do something nobody asked for aka make it gross ??? it’s my clown blood idk 

Tags/warnings: au modern javi lives in your apartment complex, description of cold leftovers from your garbage spilling on you, it’s just flirty peña idk it was an exercise for me to write something short and without smut, i’m assuming that dumpsters locked behind fences are relatable enough for all, no y/n, reader is able-bodied, all mistakes are mine just pretend like you didn't see them, i think that's all ty <3

 

You groan as you wrestle with the trash bags, their weight pulling on your arms while you trudge down the cracked concrete stairs. The holly bush at the bottom catches on your shorts again, its spiky branches scraping across your leg. Mocking you. You bite back a curse. The day has been a disaster from start to finish, and now you’re hauling half your apartment’s trash to the dumpster, trying not to lose your temper.

Why does this apartment complex even have holly bushes? It’s like someone got paid just to make everything as inconvenient as possible. Whoever designed this must have never experienced the luxury of hauling garbage bags between two overgrown defensive security bushes. 

You’re still fuming about it, whoever designed this hellscape of an apartment complex, when you reach the gate for the dumpster. One of the trash bags, full of leftovers you’d rather not think about, digs painfully into your fingers. You adjust your grip, unaware the straining plastic is a ticking time bomb. 

You trudge toward the dumpster enclosure, spotting your hot neighbor rounding the corner of his SUV, cigarette between his fingers. Of course, he would be out here to witness your personal walk of garbage shame.

He glances up, and you catch the moment his dark eyes land on you. His gaze sweeps over the bags, then to your face, a smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t say anything, but his look is enough to make your face hot. 

Damn him.

"Rough day?" he asks as you approach the dumpster, his deep voice laced with amusement.

"You could say that," you mutter, already feeling defensive. He’s really the last person you want to see while you’re sweaty and cranky. 

With a huff, you push the gate open and step into the dumpster enclosure, tossing the first couple of bags into the bin. The smell is overwhelming, but you just want to be done with it. You lift the last bag, but just as you hoist it up, the thin plastic rips apart, and cold, week-old pad thai leftovers land on your chest, feet, and everywhere but the dumpster. 

You freeze, mortified. Of course.

Before you can even process what just happened, you hear boots scuff against the pavement. Javier’s already hustling over, cigarette still between his fingers, that damn smirk still in place. 

"Need a hand?"

"I’ve got it," you snap, despite the fact that you aren’t moving. Unsure what’s going to make the situation any worse. 

It’s hard to focus on the mess when he’s standing so close. His presence makes your embarrassment worse. Like, you could climb into the dumpster yourself and wait until the garbage truck picks you up on Thursday and takes you away. 

"You sure about that?" He doesn’t move to help—just watches you with a look that’s far too amused for your liking.

"I’m sure," you grumble, tossing the ruined bag into the dumpster. "I don’t need your help." You commit to the mess, peeling cold noodles off of your chest and tossing them into the bin. You frown deeply, fishing out the leftovers that made it down your shirt. The smell and the texture make you nearly gag. 

Javier steps closer, chuckling under his breath. "Right. Because you’ve got everything under control."

You glare at him, wiping your hands on your already-ruined shorts. “I think you’re a little late to be a hero. I’m already wearing the leftovers.”

"Never said I was a hero," he replies smoothly, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Just trying to be neighborly."

As you turn to face him, the gate behind him swings shut with a loud clang. He tries to shove it open, but it doesn’t budge. His expression doesn’t change much, but there’s a flicker of realization in his eyes.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “We’re stuck?” 

He tugs at the gate one more time before turning back to you, that smirk still in place. "Looks like it."

You stare at him, your frustration mounting. "You aren’t even going to apologize? How are you calm about this?” 

Javier shrugs, leaning back against the gate and taking a long drag of his cigarette before acknowledging your question. He’s like the opposite of an anti-smoking campaign. You want to be the cigarette. 

"Not my fault the gate’s a piece of shit. And I’m not in a hurry."

"You closed it," you counter, flustered and looking for someone to blame.

But even as you glare at him, you can’t help but notice how infuriatingly attractive he looks, the way his leather jacket pulls tight over his shoulders, the way his dark eyes glint with amusement.

Javier catches your gaze and quirks an eyebrow. "You’re staring."

You roll your eyes, heat flooding your face. "I’m not."

"You are." His voice is low, teasing, and the way he looks at you—like he knows exactly what he’s doing—is making it harder to keep your composure.

You step back, trying to regain control of the situation and you catch him laughing to himself. 

“I really don’t see what could be funny about any of this,” you wave your arms, gesturing to your ruined clothes and the small space you’re both trapped in. 

“Could be worse ways to spend the evening,” he drawls, taking a step towards you. 

You pick another piece of rice noodle out from between your tits. “Yeah, like if the dumpster was on fire?” 

You’re too aware of him. Of how his voice gets lower and rougher when he’s this close.

He chuckles, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. "I’ve been in worse places. With worse company."

You swallow hard. The way his eyes flicker over your face, how his smirk never fully fades–it’s maddening. He knows what he’s doing to you. It feels like a sick joke. 

"Yeah?" you mutter, your voice sounding breathier than you’d like. "And what makes me such good company?"

Javi’s eyes darken, and he takes another step forward, close enough now that you could smell the leather of his jacket, the faint tobacco on his skin if it weren’t for the foul stench of all of half the apartment complex’s trash in the container behind you.  

"You’re more fun to argue with."

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “Don’t fuck with me, Javier. I’m already having a day from hell.” 

He gives you a pouty look that makes you want to scream. “Why would I be fucking with you?” he asks quietly, almost sounding hurt. 

You snort, incredulous. “I’m wearing last week's lunch and the only clothes that weren’t in the laundry. Don’t act like you’re flirting with me.”

He steps closer until there’s barely any space left between you. His voice drops, smooth and dangerous. "What if I am?"

For a moment, you forget where you are. 

“What if I think you look good? Even with a garnish?” he asks and pulls a piece of cilantro off of your cheek. 

All you can focus on is how close he is, the way he waits like he’s daring you to make a move. There’s no way he’s serious. He rarely says more than a curt hello, even though you walk to your cars in the parking lot at almost the same time every morning as you head out for work. Sometimes, he’ll wave if you pass him on your walk to the corner store. 

You only knew his name because of the time he caught you trying to drag a dresser you’d scored at an estate sale up the stairs to your apartment on your own. He’d helped you carry it, despite your protesting, all the way into your bedroom.

“I’d say you’re literally stuck in here with me for the foreseeable future, so of course you’d say that.” 

He sighs heavily, muttering under his breath at you, “Tan terca.” And in a move that makes your jaw drop, he turns away from you, stalking towards the fence with a fluid arrogance. Like an oversized cat in a leather jacket, he leaps at the chain link fence like he’s done it a hundred times. He hoists himself up, swinging over the top and dropping onto his feet on the other side. 

He’s grinning at you when he unlatches the gate and swings it open, but you snap storming towards him. “How long were you gonna wait to let us out?” 

He shrugs, “I thought Randy would’ve been out for a smoke before we had to wait long. Don’t exactly enjoy having to climb over a fence.” 

“Right.” You slip out of the gate with a thanks, but when he says your name, you feel like your whole body is drawn towards him.  

He eyes you, leaning in just close enough to make your pulse race again. “And if I were to flirt with you now?” 

“I’d question your judgment,” you point to yourself, “I’m still in desperate need of a shower.” 

His eyes lift, looking just past you, before he grins. 

“Oh my god,” you cut him off before he says a word, “were you about to tell me I could use your shower?” 

Everything about his mockingly sheepish look says you are right. You shake your head at him in disbelief, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. It takes all of your strength to walk away but head towards your own apartment. 

You make it to the top of the stairs before the sinking feeling hits. You deny it until you check the door for yourself. Of course. After everything that went wrong today, it only makes sense that you would lock yourself out of your own apartment. 

You berate yourself all the way to his door. It swings open after the first knock, and he gives you a look that has your cheeks burning. His eyes gleam, and you just know he’s going to enjoy this before his smoky voice even reaches your ears. 

“Changed your mind?” 

divider @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange