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clown-kitchen-sink · 11 months

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Hello there Clownblr!!! I need your help URGENTLY-

So a couple of days ago, I was walking home and there’s a skip by where I live. This clown scared me out of my skin, and got a pretty good laugh out of me, and I sat and chatted to it for a bit, knowing it was a stray. It was very friendly, and I let it show me some tricks, but when I left he followed me home.

I told him I couldn’t keep him but he was insistent on coming inside so I reluctantly let him- and I contacted my local no kill shelters but they’re all full, and for obvious reasons I’m not taking him to a kill shelter- I asked my long distance bf if maybe ey could house him, but he has very sensitive purebred clowns (the only reason I know anything about clowns is because of em- I’ve never been all that into them myself) and so can’t house them or give me advice because it only really knows about purebreds and this clown is “clearly a mix of at least 4 different types of clown”??

So, clownblr, this is where I turn to you!

As of right now, Scruffy (he picked the name himself!!) will be staying with me for at least the foreseeable future as he shows great distress at the idea of being re-homed, sheltered, or returned to the skip I found him in. So, I need to know how to take proper care of him- and my boyfriend has told me previously about how different breeds of clown have very distinct needs and traits so I figure the first step is identifying what needs scruffy may be made up of!!!

His personality is,, complex to say the least- he’s very friendly, quite cuddly, and enjoys playing with me legos and sitting on top of my fridge. He knows quite a few tricks like juggling and yoyo, and he’s taken quite a liking to the pogo stick in my back garden- but he also enjoys pranking, and quite a few times now he’s jump-scared me. He’s quite hyperactive, but once he gets tired he gets TIRED and will sleep for a good long while. He’s also gotten into my bin?? A couple of times?? Like physically in there- in my rubbish, sitting in it all happy and smiling-

He enjoys pretty much all types of music I’ve shown him, from circus to lo-fi to heavy metal to pop to country, he jams to all of it, and his diet has been literally everything in my fridge for the past couple days, he hasn’t had an aversion to anything or any particular tastes or textures- which also reminds me he is very sensory seeking, he enjoys noise and soft fabrics. He’s also a very co-dependent clown I think? He’s been following me all around the house ever since he got here and requires a lot of attention and affection but I’m not sure if that might just be a trauma thing?

Anyway, that’s a bit about his personality, and I’ve drawn what he looks like because I don’t want to risk exposing him to cameras while he’s as stressed as he is (I know not all clowns are fond of their photo being taken so I didn’t want to risk it)

This is what he looks like!

As you can see, Scruffy is very colourful, pointy ears and black and white makeup. I'm like 99% sure I got all his details in there. So, clownblr, if you can, please please help me identify the breed(s) of my new clown friend!! And also if anybody has any tips on how I can go about caring for him, please let me know! Many thanks!!

#clowncare #clown care #clown husbandry #clownblr #clown posting

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kjack89 · 1 year

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Picking the Lock

For @themiserablesmonth Day 20: Key.

E/R, modern AU, all hijinks and shenanigans, all the time.

Read on AO3.

“I need you to do something for me,” Grantaire said, eyeing Enjolras carefully.

“Anything,” Enjolras said immediately.

Grantaire gave him a look. “We’re done roleplaying, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to automatically agree with everything I say anymore.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m aware, dipshit.”.

Grantaire scowled. “You know what? Let’s go back to roleplaying. You were nicer to me when we were roleplaying.”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said impatiently. “What’s the favor?”

Grantaire took a deep breath. “I need you to remember that the handcuffs were your idea.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Handcuffs, I might add, that don’t come with a safety release,” Grantaire added, clearly avoiding the question. “Which, had we used the pink fluffy ones that I have, would not have been the case, because those were meant—”

“Grantaire.” Grantaire fell silent and Enjolras gave him a look before repeating, “Why?”

“I lost the key.”

Grantaire said the words in a rush, and Enjolras blinked before realization and horror dawned on his face. He looked rapidly from Grantaire to his wrists, which were still handcuffed to the headboard following what had been a particularly enjoyable (up until that moment at least) sexual encounter, and back to Grantaire. “You lost the key?” he repeated, his voice a solid octave higher than usual.

Grantaire winced. “I did,” he confirmed. “But! I have a plan!”

“If that plan involves any of our mutual friends coming over here—”

Grantaire scowled. “Is now really the time to be worried about our friends finding out that we’re sleeping together?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about that,” Enjolras said impatiently. “I give a flying fuck about being able to look any of them in the eyes after they see me handcuffed to a bed and completely naked!”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might laugh, but he recovered quickly. “Well, we can get you a blanket or something,” he said, eyeing Enjolras critically, or perhaps appreciatively. Or maybe a little bit of both. “Maybe a strategically placed pillow.”

Enjolras glared at him. “I really don’t think that’s the point,” he started through clenched teeth, a dangerous lilt to his voice.

Grantaire managed to tear his eyes away. “Right,” he said. “In any case, it’s not really a mutual friend, and I doubt very much that she’ll say anything to anyone, given the vault of her secrets that I maintain.”

Enjolras groaned. “Don’t tell me,” he said, though Grantaire ignored him as the doorbell rang.

“That must be her!” he said cheerfully, going to let her in.

“Blanket!” Enjolras shouted after him. “Or strategically placed pillow! Or—”

“Well hello to you, too,” Éponine said with a wide grin from the doorway, and Enjolras groaned, staring up at the ceiling. “R, you know, I never really understood what you saw in him until right now—”

“Avert your eyes,” Grantaire snapped, brushing past her to delicately drape a blanket over Enjolras’s exposed midsection. “Now are you going to be helpful?”

Éponine’s grin sharpened into a smirk. “Sure,” she said easily. “There’s just one little problem.” She winked at Enjolras. “Or not so little in your case, stud.”

Enjolras heaved a sigh, still staring at the ceiling as if wishing God would put him out of his misery. “I swear to God, I will throttle both of you.”

“Oh relax,” Éponine said, rolling her eyes as she perched on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t been interested in penis in years.”

“Oh really?” Grantaire said skeptically. “What about—”

Éponine cut him off with a glare. “The exception that proves the rule, and which you are sworn to secrecy on.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Not to interrupt whatever the fuck you have going on here, but can you kindly do something about the handcuffs?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Éponine said.

“What do you mean, no?” Grantaire demanded, at the same time Enjolras squawked, “What do you mean, no?!”

Éponine just shrugged unconcernedly. “I don’t know how to pick handcuffs. I mean, I’m flattered that you think I would, but—”

“All of the lawbreaking committed by your father, mother, siblings, and exes, and you don’t know how to pick fucking handcuffs?” Grantaire snapped.

Éponine raised an eyebrow, meeting his glare coolly. “All of the lawbreaking committed by your best friends and boyfriend—”

Grantaire and Enjolras flushed matching shades of fuschia. “He’s not—” Grantaire muttered, as Enjolras started, “We’re not—”

“Whatever,” Éponine sniffed. “My point still stands.”

Grantaire pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ok, so why couldn’t you tell me this over the phone?”

“Right, like I was going to miss the opportunity to witness this with my own two eyes.”

Again Enjolras cleared his throat, clearly determined to be the voice of something like reason. “Of the aforementioned lawbreakers with whom you are associated, would any of them know how to pick handcuffs?”

Éponine made a face. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why is that unfortunate?” Enjolras asked cautiously.

“Because it means I’m going to have to call my ex.” Éponine sighed, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and she gave Grantaire a look. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“After the free show you got?” Grantaire said sourly. “I don’t think so.”

Éponine rolled her eyes, heading into the other room to make whatever phone call she needed to make, calling over her shoulder, “Whatever, it wasn’t that impressive of a show.”

Enjolras looked up at Grantaire, who winced. “Look, I’m sorry about, y’know, that,” he mumbled, waving a hand in Éponine’s direction. “I really didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Enjolras said.

“No, it’s really not,” Grantaire said miserably. “Bondage is about trust and I am failing epically right now.”

Enjolras sighed. “Look, I’d give you a hug but I’m a little tied up,” he said wryly, smiling when Grantaire rolled his eyes, half-smiling at the very intended pun. “So come over here and kiss me, would you?” Grantaire didn’t need any additional encouragement, even with the somewhat awkward angle. “You are not failing epically,” Enjolras told him. “This was out of both of our control, ok?”

Grantaire hesitated before nodding. “Ok.”

“Though should we, uh, maybe talk about the whole boyfriend thing?” Enjolras asked cautiously.

Grantaire stared at him. “Do you really think now is the best time for that?”

Enjolras gave him a pointed look. “Do you have something better to do?”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang for a second time, and Grantaire looked especially relieved to be able to postpoine that particular conversation. “Actually, yes. Let me go answer the door.” He joined Éponine, who looked deeply unhappy. “They got here quickly.”

Éponine just shrugged. “Yeah I’m pretty sure they were robbing some place down the street.”

“I’m choosing not to comment on that besides my semi-annual reminder that you need to make better choices,” Grnataire said with a sigh before opening the door to four men, dressed like various cartoon bad guys. “Oh good Lord.”

The one closest to the door appeared to cosplaying as Jack the Ripper and was wearing an actual, literal top hat, which he removed to give Grantaire a short bow. “Good evening.”

Grantaire looked like he was trying very hard not to murder Éponine with his bare hands. “Please tell me one of you knows how to pick handcuffs.”

One of the men, this one wearing a mask, nodded. “All of us are skilled in the art of lockpicking,” he assured him.

“Great, then if you’ll just—”

A third man, the tallest of the group, gave Grantaire a sharp, feral smile. “We require a $50 consulting fee to begin.”

Grantaire blinked. “A what now?”

Éponine spoke for the first time. “Babet, don’t be an asshole—”

“What could you possibly need a consulting fee for?” Grantaire demanded.

“To see if we want to take the job,” the one dressed like a gothic dandy said.

“What job?!” Grantaire asked, exasperated. “I just need you to get my boyfriend out of handcuffs!”

“Wait, did you say boyfriend?” Enjolras called, at the same time Éponine asked, delightedly, “Did you say boyfriend? “

“This is officially the worst day of my life,” Grantaire informed them.

“Well it could be worse,” Enjolras said bracingly from the bedroom.

“How?” Grantaire asked wearily, and Enjolras just pointedly rattled the handcuffs.

The first man, who Grantaire had determined was Montparnasse, the infamous ex, cleared his throat. “Éponine said we would be compensated for our services.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Compensated, sure, but I’m not giving you $50 just to tell me that Enjolras is handcuffed because I can see that with my own two eyes.”

Montparnasse jammed his hat back on his head with a huff. “Then you shall need to take your custom elsewhere,” he said, turning and gesturing for the rest of the group to follow him.

Grantaire stared after them before looking accusingly at Éponine. “You used to date this tool?”

Éponine shrugged. “I was young and stupid.”

“I know someone who can help,” a small, cheerful voice interjected helpfully. “Probably for free, too.”

Éponine’s hand darted out to snag the shoulder of her younger brother, who had apparently been lurking in the hedge. “Fucking Christ, Gavroche, what are you doing out there?”

Gavroche just shrugged out her grip, grinning. “Followed you.”

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Éponine said with a scowl.

“Do you want to hear my idea or not?” Gavroche asked.

Grantaire threw his hands up. “Might as well. Because otherwise I’m just going to break Enjolras’s headboard.”

Gavroche grinned toothily at him. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “I don’t think it’ll come to that. But if it does, I’ll help.”

Grantaire stalked back into the bedroom while Gavroche and Éponine conferred, sitting down next to Enjolras and looking critically at the headboard. “Are you particularly attached to it? Because I really feel like I can put this pent up anger to good use.”

“Seeing how part of me is still attached to it, how about we give Gavroche a chance?” Enjolras suggested.

Though Grantaire’s expression soured, they really didn’t have much of a choice. It was almost half an hour before the doorbell rang again, and Grantaire stood tiredly. “This better work,” he muttered before starting to cross to the door.

Gavroche got there first, throwing the door open with a grin. “See,” he said to Éponine with something like triumph. “Told you he’d come.”

Grantaire gaped at the hulking man in the doorway. “Isn’t that…?”

Enjolras craned his neck, trying to see past Grantaire. “Is that Marius’s father-in-law?”

Valjean stepped into the apartment, nodding at Gavroche and Grantaire. “Gentlemen.” He nodded also to Éponine, who looked even unhappier to see him than she had been to see Montparnasse. “Éponine. Give me just a moment.:

Not even two minutes later, Enjolras was freed from the handcuffs, sitting up in bed and rubbing his wrists. Grantaire gaped at Valjean as he reemerged from the bedroom. “How did you—?”

“I keep an extra set of handcuff keys on me,” Valjean said, sounding amused. “Just in case.”

Grantaire and Éponine exchanged glances. “Just in case you get arrested, or…?” Valjean arched an eyebrow and Grantaire blanched. “You know what, don’t answer that.” He held his hand out to shake Valjean’s. “I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“No need,” Valjean said, pressing the keys into Grantaire’s palm. “And keep these. In case you and your young man decide to try this again some day.”

“I very highly doubt we will be,” Grantaire muttered. “Besides, don’t you need them?”

Valjean waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a source in law enforcement who can always get me another set,” he said easily. “I hope you all have a lovely remainder of your evening.”

“Fat chance of that,” Éponine said with a smirk, and Grantaire glared at her.

“Seeing as how you have been absolutely no help whatsoever, get the fuck out so that Enjolras and I can talk,” Grantaire sighed.

Éponine just winked before grabbing Gavroche by the arm and pulling him outside. Grantaire took a deep breath before heading back into the bedroom where Enjolras was waiting. “So that was, uh…”

“A less than auspicious start to a relationship?” Enjolras supplied with a wry smile.

Grantaire blinked. “Relationship?” he repeated, a little hesitantly.

Enjolras shrugged. “I mean, at this point, I figure we might as well try it, right? After all, things can only go up from here, don’t you think?”

Grantaire couldn’t stop his smile. “You may have a point,” he said, before quickly springing into action. “Let me get some ointment for your wrists.” He sat down next to Enjolras, practically pulling him into his lap before gently applying the ointment to the handcuff marks on his wrists. “I don’t know how you’re going to explain this to everyone.”

“Who said I’m going to?” Enjolras asked with a wry smile, and at Grantaire’s startled look, he shrugged. “What, and ruin all the fun Courfeyrac’s going to have dreaming up reasons why I’d have ligature marks on my wrists? That’d just be cruel.”

Though Grantaire laughed, it was short-lived, and he traced his fingertips lightly over the marks in question. “I’m sorry.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.” Grantaire gave him a look, and he amended, “Well, not fully your fault, anyway.”

Grantaire lifted his wrist to press a light kiss to the mark before rubbing his thumb across it once more and musing, “You know, Valjean gave me the handcuff keys.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m ready to consider a repeat performance just yet.”

“I know. I wasn’t talking about you.” Enjolras raised an eyebrow and Grantaire shrugged. “Just something to keep in mind. Since we’re a couple now, and I know you feel about equity in a relationship.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes again, but his expression was soft. “You’re going to be a dork about this for a while, aren’t you?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Can you blame me?” he asked, before adding, “Besides, it’s either that or wallow in guilt at accidentally chaining you up for the better part of two hours.”

Enjolras made a face. “Ok. Then let’s be dorks.” He leaned in to kiss Grantaire lightly. “Boyfriend.”

“Asshole,” Grantaire returned easily.

“Yeah, but you know you like it,” Enjolras said with a laugh. “Now let’s please go to bed before we somehow manage to fuck something else up this evening.”

Grantaire barked a laugh. “Deal.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #eponine #patron minette #gavroche #jean valjean #just a clowncar of tomfoolery in this one #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #handcuffs #post-coital #hijinks and shenanigans #humor #the miserables month

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