🤡Just Another Clown🤡

Writer✍️ Reader📚Joker fan girl🤡

[pendragon50]

I’m writing chapter 3 of my Arthur Fleck fanfic, and wow I love writing soft Arthur. I swear I’m going to turn into a fluffy rabbit if I keep writing fluff like this. But fluff is nice. We can never have enough fluff when it comes to precious Arthur <3

[pendragon50]

Chapter 2: An Angel to the Rescue

Here’s Chapter 2 of Lovebirds in Gotham, my Arthur Fleck fanfic. Hope you like it! :D

The clown spun the large yellow sign this way and that, twirling it as easily and gracefully as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Painted on the sign in large black and red letters were the words: EVERYTHING MUST GO!! He was performing beside Kenny’s Music Shop, a small business no one seemed to be paying much attention to as they strolled past. It was like the shop was invisible.

Arthur didn’t let the smile on his face disappear. When he wore his clown costume and bright makeup, he slipped into a different identify entirely. On that cloudy morning, he was no longer Arthur Fleck, but a happy clown who’d stop at nothing to spread joy and laughter to the world.

On his right, an old man played a piano. Arthur shifted his feet in tune to the song, letting the music guide him.

When a father and his two children walked past, Arthur lifted the sign high above his head in a dramatic fashion. Making a silly face at the kids, the boy chuckled. The girl clapped her hands in evident delight. Pleased by their responses, he stomped his jumbo red-and-blue shoes, mouthing the words, “If you’re happy and you know it, stomp your feet!” Both kids immediately stomped their feet, watching the performing clown with obvious excitement.

The unamused father, meanwhile, scowled at the clown and nudged the kids to keep moving. The little girl stole a quick glance over her shoulder. Arthur frowned briefly, but wiped his frown away, reminding himself that he was a happy clown. You've got a purpose, he reminded himself: to spread joy and laughter to the world. Forcing his lips into a broad smile, he held up one hand and waved at her in a friendly, silent “bye!”

 Carnival.

That was Arthur Fleck’s clown name. It had been his clown name in the many years he’d been a party clown.

His smile widened as he recalled how he’d come up with the name. Growing up, he’d always longed to visit a carnival. A magical place chock full of sleepless fun – what greater place was there for a kid? But his mother had always struggled, financially, to support she and her son, so Arthur had never taken even one step inside a carnival. He could only imagine what it would be like to bite into a crisp, sweet candy apple, brave a thrilling roller coaster, to see nightly fireworks of all colors light up an evening sky. At thirty-five, still he longed to visit one, but times were hard. Life was difficult enough as it was; he could barely afford the apartment he and his sick mother currently lived in.

For now, he could only keep dreaming.

People of all sorts passed by Carnival as he danced to the music. In the sea of faces, Arthur noticed expressions of every kind.

Impatience.

Frustration.

Boredom.

Arrogance.

Apathy.

So much negativity. It didn’t matter what face he looked to; it was all the same. A never-ending sea of negativity. Gotham was a city weighed down by such hopelessness, Arthur was surprised the city hadn’t yet crumbled.

As one spindly woman strode towards him, Arthur offered her a toothy, clownish smile. As expected, the woman ignored the smiling clown and picked up the pace. Though he wanted nothing more than to spread joy and laughter to the world, it was somewhat difficult when the world didn’t seem to care.

But he couldn’t stop trying. He refused to.

It’s a new day, he thought, injecting as much positivity into his brain as he could. Considering his head was filled with enough negative thoughts, he knew the importance of digging deep for even the smallest bit of positive thinking.

Kids, at least, always seemed to enjoy Carnival.

That is, most kids.

Carnival was spinning his sign over his head. Up and down, left and right went the sign, the focused clown slowing his pace for not even a second. Too absorbed in his sign-twirling, he didn’t notice the group of teenagers strutting directly for him. Only when he heard a cocky voice call out to him did Arthur swallow nervously.

Trouble was on its way.

“Yo, what’s up with your shoes, bro?”

He’s talking about me, thought Arthur, his chest tightening with fear. He’s definitely talking about me. He’s gonna...gonna... He hated thinking of what might be in store for him. Afraid of sending his gaze elsewhere, he focused only on the sign. The guys approaching him were the very definition of troublemakers. The way they carried themselves, the smug smirks glued to their faces – it didn’t take a genius to see these teens were hungry for an extra large helping of trouble.

And Arthur Fleck was on the menu.

“Hey, if you’re gonna be a clown,” the same voice shouted with a sneer, “at least you can be a good one, you know that, right?”

 WHACK!

Poor Carnival had no time to react. The only noise that slipped from his painted lips was a startled, surprised, “ahh!” One minute he was spinning the sign round and round, lost in the world that was Carnival the Clown’s. The next it was knocked right out of his grasp. Lightning quick, one of the teens grabbed hold of the sign and bolted off, the other boys sprinting after him. Arthur reached out desperately for the sign, only to slip like a clumsy, confused camel.

“Hey!” he shouted in a hoarse voice.

Just like that, the chase was on.

Arthur knew he’d never catch them. Running in his jumbo clown shoes was not like running in comfy running sneakers. But he couldn’t let these kids run off with the sign. If Kenny came out and realized his sign was missing, the blame would fall all on Arthur and Arthur alone. Not to mention his unfairly strict boss, Hoyt, would not be pleased. The man had already given Arthur many chances. One more disappointment, and Arthur feared he’d lose his job at Ha-Ha’s before he’d have time to so much as blink.

“STOP THEM!” he hollered. Over and over again he called out for someone, anyone, to notice the pleading clown.

But they didn’t.

Because no one cared.

No one cared anymore.

“Come on, Clown!” the oldest guy taunted, laughing meanly. “We got the sign!”

Arthur ran as fast as he could, his lungs aching the faster he ran. Being a heavy smoker, it didn’t take much for him to get out of breath. But it didn’t matter. He was responsible for Kenny’s sign. He had to get it back.

Down the busy sidewalk Arthur ran. The teens kept looking back at him, the sneers on their faces refusing to die. How he managed to avoid knocking into people, Arthur wasn’t sure. With unexplainable speed, he weaved in and around men, women and children, praying he didn’t tumble and crash to the ground and break both his legs.

“Where’s your sign, Clown?”

In your hands, thought Arthur miserably. Determined to get his sign back, Arthur raced out into the busy street, not realizing at the time how dangerous a thing this was to do on a busy Monday morning.

 BEEEEEEP!

Arthur cried out in alarm as he barely avoided being slammed into by an oncoming car. A few steps forward and another vehicle slammed on their breaks. The embarrassed, fear-stricken look in his eyes went unnoticed by the peeved driver, who honked harshly at the clown. Before Arthur hurried off the street, the cabbie rolled down the window to yell out, “Watch where you’re going!”

Arthur felt his legs starting to cramp. He doubted he could run much longer until his fuel tank ran out and he’d have to stop. His lungs were screaming for air with each step he took.

Faster, run faster! he thought in a panic, quickening the pace. The teens were a few yards ahead of him. Again and again Arthur pleaded for them to give back the sign, but his efforts were in vain. No way were they returning this clown’s sign willingly. If the clown wanted his sign back, then he’d have to take it from them.

Down the sidewalk Arthur ran, pumping his aching legs as fast as he could. He couldn’t let them get away! More than once he almost tripped, but somehow, he managed to stay on his feet. The longer he ran, the more it seemed he’d never catch these speedy kids. It was like a tiring, terrible game of Tag, and Arthur was It. They were simply too fast for him. Between not being as young as he used to be and wearing shoes not at all fit for running, how in the world was he supposed to catch them?

“SLOW POKE!” one guy yelled, laughing at the insult.

The other boys chimed in with equally-mean remarks of their own.

“FREAK!”

“IDIOT!”

“Stop them!” Arthur shouted, feeling as invisible as a ghost. A few people strolling by cast him quick, curious glances, but nothing more.

Seeing the guys disappear into an alleyway, Arthur sped forward.

“HEY!” he yelled, nearly tumbling onto the grimy sidewalk. Wasting no time, he sprinted down the alley, relieved that he’d finally get his sign back. The group was standing beside a dumpster, sneering and making faces at the approaching clown.

“You fuckers!” Arthur panted.

So out of breath, Arthur didn’t notice the sign had disappeared. In the seconds it took for this to finally occur to him, it was too late. Out from behind the dumpster stepped the oldest teen, his face lit up in a satisfied grin. Up, up, up went the sign, right over poor Arthur’s head.

Then, with a sickening WHACK, down, down, down came the sign on Arthur's head. The boys cackled as the broken pieces fell to the ground. Even harder they laughed at the defenseless clown now at their feet.

“Come on, beat his ass up!” the oldest boy ordered.

Knowing what was coming, immediately Arthur shielded his head with his hand. The other he slipped between his legs, knowing one kick was all it took to cause serious damage down there. Having no chance of fighting off predators, all he could do was protect his head and privates as best he could.

“This guy’s weak!” Arthur heard the leader shout. “He can’t do nothing!” How many times those nasty kids kicked Arthur, he couldn’t say. Judging by the sharp pain radiating through his body, it felt like fifty. Though with how frail he was, even a few kicks or punches felt like a mountain of pain, pushing down upon him.

“Harder...HARDER!”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard. Frantically he tried thinking of something happy. He imagined himself sitting cross-legged on his mother’s bed while the two of them watched their favorite TV program, The Murray Franklin Show; dancing in his living room as he let the music in his soul free and watching the smiling faces of kids as he sang “If You’re Happy and You Know It”, danced and made balloon animals for them.

Think of happy things, he thought, tears welling up in his eyes. Happy...happy...happy.

That was when he heard a voice.

Not a cold, cruel voice like so many in cold, cruel Gotham.

No, this voice banished Arthur’s fears instantly. The moment it reached his ears, he felt an unmistakable sense of comfort wash over him.

“Get away from him!”

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for things to snap into focus. What he saw were the boys standing round him, staring in disappointment at the woman now a few feet away from them. Her mouth hung open in palpable shock.

“M-Mrs. Speck?” the boys shouted in unison. There was no masking the shock on their faces; it was as clear as the clouds in the sky.

“Is this what you boys do when you’re not in school?” she scolded. “Going around beating up on someone like it’s some kind of...of”—she let out a disgusted scowl—“joke?”

The boys said nothing. The oldest one merely stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, mumbling sulkily.

“And speaking of school,” the woman went on, staring sternly at the busted teens. “You should all be in Mr. Blackburn's class right now.” Her eyes fell on the bleeding clown, whose face was stained with tears. Arthur stared up, open-mouthed, wide-eyed, wondering if he’d somehow slipped into dreamland. "Though I guess math's just not as fun as beating up on a total stranger...is it?" She crossed her arms, saying, "Bet you weren't planning on coming to my class, either, huh?"

Arthur's eyes widened. This was the woman from the subway! She was even wearing the same pink turtleneck! A week had passed since that night. Since then, more than once she’d slid into Arthur’s mind. And now here she was, coming to his aid like an angel from the heavens. Too tired and dazed to lift his head off the ground, he laid there, staring at nothing else but her. She was scolding the teens, but Arthur couldn’t help taking in the sight of her.

She was small and skinny, like himself. Seeing her more close up, he couldn’t say for sure how old she was, but he guessed she was somewhere in her twenties. In this dark and dingy alley, her flamingo-pink turtleneck seemed to shine with color. If this was all only a dream, thought Arthur, he only hoped he could hold onto the image of this woman, whoever she was. He didn't want this precious picture to fade.

“I hope you know your parents will be hearing about this,” she said firmly. “This is beyond unacceptable! And don’t think Principal Parker won’t be giving you all a proper punishment. This kind of behavior is disgusting!"

Saying nothing, the group left. A few muttered sulkily, but most kept quiet. The oldest boy threw the woman a peeved look, but didn't dare say anything.

A moment later, the boys were gone.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but coughed painfully. He groaned softly, laying his head back on the wet pavement. Still he hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman. How had he managed to bump into this same woman, one whose name he didn’t even know? After wishing he could see her again, it seemed, somehow, amazingly, his wish had come true.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said quietly, rushing to his side. She locked eyes with the clown, shaking her head empathetically. “I’m a teacher at Hillridge High. Those...those boys are always getting into trouble at school."

“You,” Arthur uttered softly. “You saved my life.”

The woman’s gaze softened. Staring long and hard at this clown, it took only a moment for the light bulb to go off in her head.

“The...the subway,” she whispered in realization. “You’re the clown I saw on the subway last week.”

Arthur nodded, wincing slightly. His entire body was a throbbing, tender mess.

“You saved my life,” she told him, her quiet voice mirroring his own. For a moment, it looked like she might tear up.

“We saved each other’s,” Arthur commented, offering her a small, tired smile.

She returned his smile with one of her own.

“Guess we did.”

There was a brief pause.

“You’re hurt,” she said, looking Arthur over with palpable concern. “We have to get you to a doctor. You might need—”

“T-that’s okay,” Arthur answered softly, struggling to sit up. With the woman’s help, he managed. “I...I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re bleeding!” she cried, her eyes flickering to the blood at his feet. “You really should see a—”

“Nothing’s broken,” Arthur assured her. His face scrunched up in discomfort. Yes, he was bleeding, but it wasn’t anything a wet facecloth at home couldn’t fix. If he could just make it back home, he could clean himself up in the bathroom and rest on the couch.

The woman bit her lip. “Are you sure?” she said finally, eyeing Arthur’s bloody lips with a frown. “I’d be more than happy to drive you to a hospital.”

Arthur smiled in appreciation.

“That’s sweet of you,” he said kindly, feeling suddenly shy. He wasn’t used to anyone showing him such kindness. It was such a strange, but absolutely wonderful feeling. Despite his aching body, never had he felt so...happy. “B-but I’ll be okay...really.”

For a minute, neither Arthur nor the woman said a word. From outside the alley, the noise of honking cars, arguing pedestrians and barking dogs was all that could be heard.

Finally, the woman asked him, “What’s your name?”

“Arthur,” he answered, sounding like an innocent boy meeting a pretty girl. “Arthur Fleck.” Always in the mood for a joke, he put on his most clownish smile and added, “Well, actually right now I’m Carnival the Clown!” He squeezed his squeaky clown noise. It sounded like the horn on a child’s bicycle. “What’s your name?”

She smiled briefly. “Aubrey.”

Aubrey. Arthur replayed the sound of her name in his thoughts, loving the way her voice sounded. It was soft, like birds chirping early in the morning on a spring day. It was comforting, like the world’s most comforting blanket, one that’s fleecy and wraps around you on a cold winter’s night. He’d heard many sounds in the many years he’d been a resident of Gotham: the sound of one’s fist punching him in the face, the cruel laughter of those who showed him no empathy, fighting in the streets late at night...the list went on.

What he heard in Aubrey’s voice was that of an angels’ voice. No, she might not have had fluffy wings white as snow, or a shiny yellow halo hovering over her head...but what Arthur saw when he looked at this woman was an angel.

Just as quickly she was frowning again.

“You're in pain,” she said, focusing on his face. Arthur might have said he was fine, but his grimaces told her otherwise.

He sighed wearily. “It was just a bunch of kids,” he said, sounding visibly guilty. “I should have left it alone. Maybe if I hadn’t chased them for my sign, they wouldn’t have—”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “They stole that sign from you?”

Arthur shrugged silently.

“It’s completely their fault, Arthur!” she argued, laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t go and blame yourself for what they did. Those boys have gotten suspended more than once. Not surprised they went and did something like this but...but no way is this your fault. Okay?”

Arthur nodded meekly.

She’s beautiful, thought Arthur, unable to take his eyes off her. Not just physically, he thought, but beautiful for what she’d done: saving his life. Unlike the countless people who passed him everyday, indifferent to his endless suffering, she had noticed him. More than that, she cared. She could have easily ignored the suffering clown in the alley, but no, she’d noticed...and done something to help him. She didn’t have to help me, but...but she did.

“I-I’m kind of embarrassed,” Arthur said in a low voice. He dropped his head, his red lips sinking into a large frown. “I’m a grown man, I...I should have been able to fight back or...or—”

“But it was five against one!” Aubrey exclaimed. “They had you outnumbered. And it’s not like we’ve all got black belts and can defend ourselves.”

After a moment of unbroken silence, Arthur was back on his feet.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he told Aubrey kindly. “You didn’t have to do what you did. Those guys could have come at you, but you...you still helped me.” He fixed his sea-green eyes on her, his expression morphing into one of deep curiosity. “Why?”

“You needed help,” was her simple answer. “Not enough people in this shitty town help each other. Most only care about themselves.”

The words not you fluttered through Arthur’s mind. You stopped to help me. Again the word angel popped to mind. Never could he have expected to meet an angel when he set out that morning for work. Having met only uncaring devils, such an enormous, but wonderful surprise it was to have had an angel come to his rescue.

“Well, thank you again,” said Arthur, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. “I...I’ll just go wait for a bus to take me—”

“If you, I mean,” Aubrey started awkwardly. “If you want, I”—she ran her fingers through her long black hair. Arthur watched her, saying nothing. He wasn’t an expert in many things, but he could tell when one was feeling nervous. “I could drive you home, if...I mean, if you—”

“Oh, no...no, I couldn’t have you do that,” Arthur said. “You’ve already done enough. And...and anyway, I...I have to fix Kenny’s sign and get it back to—”

“Don’t worry about the sign,” she said, helping him pick up the broken pieces. “I can help you fix that. I’m sure with some glue and tape, we can at least put it back together."

“Really, you don’t have to,” Arthur quietly argued. “You’ve already done so much for me. I’m sure I can”—He grimaced as a bolt of pain ripped like knives through his shoulder.

“Where do you live?” asked Aubrey, holding him steady.

“Winslow Avenue,” Arthur said, gritting his teeth together. He was trying not to let on how much he was hurting, but there was no hiding his pain. “Near Robinson Park...”

“That’s perfect, then,” said Aubrey. “I’m on Winslow Street, too. I can drive you home.”

Again Arthur said under his breath, “You don’t have to do that.”

Aubrey’s cheeks flushed cherry red. “It’s okay. I...I want to."

She can’t be real, thought Arthur in denial. This can’t be real. I’m just dreaming. I’m gonna wake up and this’ll all be gone.

Aubrey’s car was parked on the opposite side of the street. After helping him across the street, Arthur found himself seated in the front seat of her small car. Dangling from the rear-view mirror was an air freshener. He inhaled, catching the definite scent of cinnamon. He wondered if she liked baking. As she settled in beside him and started the car, he suddenly felt shyer than ever. Here he was, a stranger, sitting in the car of a woman who’d shown him more kindness than anyone. He didn’t know what to say or do. He just wasn’t used to people showing him even an ounce of compassion.

What if she's not a smoker? he thought nervously. Being the heavy smoker he was, Arthur couldn't shake the smell of smoke from his clothes. What if the smell bothered her? What if she kicked him to the curb, telling him to find his own way home? He wouldn't have blamed her if she did it. He wished he had some cologne on him, something that could help mask the smell of nicotine.

Much to his surprise, she said nothing. Perhaps the smell didn't bother her? Or maybe, he thought, staring at her like a little boy with with an unshakeable crush, she's just a nice person.

When she drove off down the street toward Winslow Avenue, again Arthur told himself this was all a dream. A wonderful, too-good-to-be-true dream.

But even so, if it all truly was a dream, it was the most beautiful dream he’d ever had. And however much longer it lasted, he wanted to enjoy every single second of it.

Though he was in pain, he wasn’t thinking about this. He closed his eyes, letting a sleepy, relaxed smile spread across his face. For the first time in his life, Arthur Fleck felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He felt safe.

[inritum]

reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

[ghostdog07]

OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S BACK ON MY DASH.

THIS SHIT WORKS OKAY, I AM DEAD SERIOUS.

The last time I saw this on my dash, I didn’t think it would happen, so jokingly I wished I could go to a fun. concert.

AND GUESS WHAT, I WENT TO A FUCKING FUN. CONCERT.

THIS SHIT WORKS, TRY IT.

[deathklaue]

YOOOOOOO

I SAW THIS ON MY DASH THE OTHER DAY AND THOUGHT “ITS WORTH A TRY” SO I WISHED I COULD GET A 3DS

LITERALLY LIKE 4 DAYS LATER MY DAD SENT ME A PICTURE OF THE 3DS XL HE BOUGHT FOR ME WHILE I WAS AT SCHOOL

IM STILL FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS

[doryishness]

holy fuck, I didn’t expect this to work, I was like psh, whatever it’s just a quick reblog, but I wished my Dad would actually respond back to me AND HE FUCKING DID A FEW DAYS LATER, I GOT A FUCKING TEXT FROM MY DAD TODAY WHO HASN’T SPOKEN OR RESPONDED TO ME IN MONTHS HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MAGIC IT WORKS. 

[victoriaringsinyourears]

I WANTED TO SEE MY BOYFRIEND AND I DIDN’T THINK I’D GET DAYS OFF BUT THIS WEEKEND I’M HEADING UP THERE??? THIS IS CRAZY SHIT 

[lenshade]

SO LIKE I JOKINGLY WISHED FOR MY OWN LEN KAGAMINE AND THEN LIKE A WEEK LATER I GOT A LEN NENDOROID??? H ELP

[themixedbagofwhat]

WTF OKAY SO THIS SHOT ACTUALLY WORKS BECAUSE WHEN I WISHED, I HAD WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD LIKE ME BACK AND GUESS WHAT? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHAT THE HELLLLL?????

[wodkat]

ok I’ve said this before but IM DOING IT AGAIN THE FIRST TIME I SAW THIS, MY WISH DID COME TRUE SO I REBLOGED AGAIN AND SAID IT IN THE TAGS BUT THEN I WISHED FOR SMTH ELSE AND IT LITERALLY LITERALLY HAPPENED LIKE A COUPLE DAYS LATER WHAT THE HELL SO NOW IM WRITING THIS HERE FOR YOU BC I DONT BELIEVE IN THIS CRAP BUT STILL IT’S AN AWFULLY BIG COINCIDENCE

[acstiel]

THE BOY I FELL I LOVE WITH LEFT TO TRAVEL THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD AND HAS BEEN GONE NOW FOR 3 MONTHS. WE HAVENT SPOKEN SINCE BECAUSE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE HIM FEEL TRAPPED TO ME AND NOT ENJOY HIS TIME SO I WAITED FOR HIM TO CONTACT ME FIRST. I SAW THIS ON A PARTICULARLY LOW DAY WHEN I WAS MISSING HIM SO MUCH I CRIED FROM THE PAIN, GUYS I REALLY LOVE HIM, SO I THOUGHT MEH WHAT THE FUCK, AND WISHED HE WOULD JUST LET ME KNOW HE WAS OKAY.

GUYS.

HE FUCKING CALLED ME 20 MINUTES LATER

20 FUCKNG. MINUTES. LATER.

GOOD THINGS DO HAPPEN. AND ITS IN THIS POST.

[juststrokemyglabella]

I wish for someone to leave something in my ask.

[adweeb-deactivated20160228]

OKAY SO I ASKED FOR A HEDGEHOG AND NOW GUESS WHO HAS A PET HEDGEHOG

[mydeadcarcass]

I WISHED FOR SNK MERCH THE FIRST TIME. I GOT A JACKET.

I WISHED FOR MY GIRLFRIEND THE SECOND TIME. I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.

[openyourthird-eye]

THIS WORKs I WISHED I WAS MOVING TO NORTH CAROLINA AND GUESS WHAT GUYS IM MOVING TO NC IN AUGUST I PROMISE U IM NOT LYING

[ariya-art]

guys ok ur probably thinking that this is all just bs right? WELL I THOUGHT SO TOO BUT I WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD CHAT ME AND HE DID AND IM FREAKING OUT not even kidding i swear on my grampas grave this works

[haihl-blog]

I love this it always works for me yey thank u shooting star :’)

[phoxae]

woah the notes let’s hope my wish comes true

[warriordreamer95]

Fingers crossed!

[razorblade180]

Let’s see what happens

[thereallifeofacanofspam]

h m

[clownbeep]

I hope my mom gets better :)

[jokeonme077-deactivated20210714]

I HOPE I GOT TO SPACE

[pendragon50]

I hope we get a sequel to Joker!🤡

[pendragon50]

Lovebirds in Gotham

I’ve started writing an Arthur Fleck fanfic. I’ve wanted to write something for this fandom for a while now, and I’ve finally got some ideas, so I’m going to pour it all into this story. Going to be lots of romance and smut as the story progresses. Hope you guys like it! :)

CHAPTER ONE

TROUBLE ON A SUBWAY

The man sat on the subway, his unblinking green eyes – a sea of unfathomable loneliness – staring absently forward. His lips were coated in a bright, red, over exaggerated smile, outlined thickly in black. But there was no hiding the waves of sadness splashing about in his eyes; they were as plain as the carefully painted makeup on his face. Being a party clown, he always wore a happy smile, hoping he could spread joy and laughter to the world.

But at the end of each day, off came the mask that concealed the broken man beneath.

He wasn’t just a clown.

He was Arthur Fleck – lifelong resident in the cold, dark, unforgiving city that was Gotham.

Arthur sighed quietly, his tired eyes shifting to the woman sitting opposite him. She raised a pencil-thin brow, as if to say what’s with the costume? Arthur said nothing, dropping his gaze awkwardly. The woman snickered under her breath and shook her head. He was used to being stared at as if he were an alien creature who didn’t belong in Gotham; it was a sad, but inescapable part of his life. It didn’t help when he’d plunge into unstoppable, uncontrollable fits of laughter. That earned him strange, unkindly stares by the bucket load.

His mind flickered back to that morning. He’d been riding the bus to work, like he did every morning. He'd noticed a young boy staring at him, his face a mixture of pity and childlike confusion. Arthur loved making kids laugh. It was one of his favorite parts about being a party clown. Seeing the boy’s face light up in an amused smile as he played peek-a-boo with him, Arthur too had felt a smile creeping onto his face. Adults might not have found him amusing, but he never failed to send kids chuckling. In that moment, it had crossed Arthur’s mind: maybe today will be a good day?

Like a vase smashing to pieces, those thoughts were shattered when the boy’s not-so-kindly mother snapped, “Could you stop bothering my kid?”

Even when Arthur presented a small card to her, still the woman's annoyance didn't vanish. It was a card he carried with him wherever he went, for there wasn’t a day that passed, sadly, when his uncontrollable laughter didn't pay him a visit. Despite offering her his card, still she’d shot him another look that screamed: freak. Without handing the man his card back, she wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders, as if Arthur were some dangerous, villainous monster.

Again Arthur wondered: why? Why did people treat him so cruelly? For one who only wanted to spread joy and laughter to the world, why was it that the world had only apathy and nastiness to spit back at him? It was a question he could never find an answer to. Maybe, he thought wearily, it was a question that would remain unanswered forever.

Pulling the laminated card out of his pocket, Arthur re-read the card for what felt like the hundredth time.

It’s a medical condition causing sudden, frequent, and uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel. It can happen in people with an injury or certain neurological condition.

Thank you!   

Slipping the card back into his pocket, Arthur frowned. He wondered if he could just maybe make it home without drama wrapping its tendrils round him. He shuffled in his seat, knowing the odds were dreadfully slim. Asking for a drama-free ride home was like asking for Thomas Wayne to help make the lives of Gotham’s less fortunate even a tad easier. Not going to happen.

Letting out another sigh, Arthur returned to staring out the window, lost in his tangled web of thoughts. How long the ride lasted, he couldn’t say. So hopelessly lost in his own world, it was like time screeched to a stop.

At one point, Arthur heard a startling screeeeech. He yanked himself out of his thoughts. Was time actually screeching to a stop?

No.

Just the subway stopping to let passengers off and on. He yawned and rubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t realized till now how tired he felt, though he doubted he’d sleep much that night. It wasn’t often he got more than a few hours of sleep each night. Already he knew what that night would look like: him sitting at the wooden table in his living room, scribbling down jokes in his journal, hoping with everything in him that one of these days his dream of becoming a stand-up comedian would come true.

Arthur watched absently as the woman across from him rose to her feet. Snatching up her gold, diamond-studded purse, she swept past Arthur without so much as a backward glance. He wasn’t certain, but he swore he detected a slight, but arrogant “humph” as she departed the train. It was like she was relieved at finally being able to get away from the freakish clown.

Before the doors closed, a young woman hurried on. While catching her breath, she quickly grabbed a seat. Setting her purse down beside her, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Arthur watched her curiously. She looked to be in her twenties, with coal-black hair falling past her shoulders like a dark waterfall. Her small frame was covered in a pink turtleneck and grey leggings. His lips curved up in a small smile. Her flamingo-pink sweater was the only colorful thing in that dingy, smelly subway. When her gaze fell downward, Arthur felt a pang of sympathy. He was no stranger to the deepening frown now etched on her face; that same frown greeted him every morning when he looked in the mirror.

She must have sensed she was being watched, for she silently cast her gaze onto Arthur. Immediately he forced his gaze back onto the floor, trying to pretend he was interested in the newspaper. He was thankful his face was painted white, otherwise she would have clearly seen the red blossoming on his cheeks. He suddenly felt like a shy little boy, and had to fight the urge to not burst out laughing.

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, he thought desperately. Please don’t laugh. He swallowed hard, and distracted himself by fiddling with his thumbs. Deep in his throat, he felt an all too familiar sensation bubbling into existence, climbing its way up towards his mouth. He coughed loudly, praying his laughter wasn’t about to break free of the cage he struggled so hard to keep it in.

He waited.

Waited...

Waited...

A minute later, he let out a silent sigh of relief. In his moment of relief, he chanced another look at the woman. She was reading, though it didn’t look to him as if she were fully absorbed in the story. Her gaze kept jumping about, bouncing here and there, as if she were only half interested in what was happening on the pages. Arthur kept his gaze on the window across from him. Keep on staring at her, he told himself, and she’ll think you’re a creep. J-Just pretend you’re sleeping or...or something like that.

Before he could think anything else, Arthur heard the sound of a door opening. A quick glance to his left showed three men entering the compartment. Dressed in wrinkle-free tuxedos and wearing toothy smiles, these new arrivals had cocky written all over them. The tallest of the three remained standing, leaning casually up against the silver pole, chatting loudly. The other two – a blond man in suspenders and a curly-haired man – were already sitting.

“Are you nuts?” the blond one exclaimed. He threw his hands up for emphasis. “Did you see how close we were dancing? She was in love!”

The tall guy scoffed, saying, “Right, right.” He cuffed the curly-haired guy on the shoulder. “That’s crazy. Tell him what you saw!”

But the other guy wasn’t paying attention. In his hand he held a crumpled bag. With a small smirk, he waved it in front of the woman, who was once again staring down at her book.

“You want some French fries?” he said in a slurred voice. Again he waved the bag, more forcefully. “Hellooooo?” When the woman lifted her gaze nervously, he went on, “Hey, I’m talking to you. Want some French fries?”

“No, thank you,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.

“You sure?” the guy asked, holding up a fry. He wiggled it and lifted his brows, locking his gaze on the woman. He licked his lips and added, “They’re really good.”

“Don’t ignore him,” the blond guy said. “He’s being nice to you.”

When a fry was thrown at the woman, she gasped in surprise. Immediately the three men burst out laughing. Shuffling uncomfortably in her seat, the woman shot a nervous glance at the clown.

Arthur watched her, his expression a combination of mounting fear and empathy. A small chuckle rolled off his lips, but his thoughts weren’t on the fact that an inevitable bout of laughter was on the way.

These men were drunk; that much was obvious.

They were drunk...and eyeing the small woman with wolfish grins. Instantly Arthur’s mind leapt into overdrive. He might not have been a genius, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize what these men had on their minds.

It wasn’t French fries.

Arthur exhaled shakily. His heart pounded against his chest as the imminent danger this woman was in became startlingly clear. He could hear the clock tick-tock-tick-tocking down to...he didn’t want to think about what he feared it had to be counting down to.

He had to do something.

But what could he do?

No way could skinny, frail Arthur Fleck fend of three strapping young men! But he sure as hell couldn’t sit there and do a big, fat nothing. He had to get up and do...do...what? Tell them to get the hell away from her? As if these drunks would actually listen to some man in makeup and a clown suit? No doubt they’d knock him to the ground and introduce him to their kicking feet.

But it didn’t matter.

He had to do something...anything.

“H-h-hey!” he shouted. He covered his mouth momentarily, feeling that nagging urge to break out laughing. “G-get away from her!”

The woman took a deep breath. Her wide eyes landed on Arthur, and though she said nothing, he could hear the silent “thank you” falling off her lips. Just as quickly, her eyes were back on the three men. They were all standing now, closing the distance between themselves and the shaking woman.

“S-stop!” Arthur shouted, rising to his feet. “O-or I’ll—ha-ha-ha-haaa!”

It was instantaneous. All three men turned and shot Arthur expressions that each said the same thing: what the fuck? Arthur meanwhile, buried his face in his sleeve, unsuccessfully trying to silence his laughter. He took a breath and removed his face from his sleeve. Seconds later, once more his laughter grabbed hold of him, showing him no mercy.

“Is something funny, asshole?” the tall guy hollered.

Arthur waved his hand “no.”

The woman in the pink turtleneck watched him in silence. Unlike the men, who stared at Arthur with growing smirks, her expression was one of...compassion. The two’s gazes locked, and while no words were spoken, Arthur could tell she was scared.

Screeeeech.

The train was coming to a stop.

Arthur kept his gaze on the woman. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that poured out was a louder, more painful laugh. He could hear the men snickering among themselves, but Arthur did his best to block them out. His focus was on helping the woman. Seeing the men sneering at him in unison, a light bulb went off in his head.

While still laughing, he cocked his head to the right. He didn’t need to speak to get across to her what he wanted to. Go! he thought urgently. With their interest now shifted to the laughing clown, no longer were they eyeing her.

When they train came to a stop, the woman rose to her feet. Before leaving, she shot Arthur one last glance. Again he motioned to the doors, silently insisting that she hurry out of there. Her eyes swam with waves of conflicting emotions. Finally, after what felt like eternity, she turned and exited the train.

A minute later, the train was moving.

“Isn’t it rich?” the tall guy sang, sliding his way over towards the clown. “Are we a pair?” The other two remained sitting, covering their faces with their hands, howling with childish laughter.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Before he knew it, Arthur was surrounded. Gone was any chance of distancing himself from these three. All he could do was sit there and laugh and pray this would all be over with soon.

The curly-haired guy snatched Arthur’s wig of green hair off his head. Onto his own head he placed it. Sticking his tongue out, he gave Arthur a mocking smile. The other two snorted in approval.

“So, buddy, tell us, what’s so fucking funny?” the tall guy demanded.

"Hah-hah!" Arthur’s hand went to his throat. His laughing was slowing – he could feel it. Taking a shaky breath, he reached into his pocket where he kept his little card.

“I..I have a condition,” he said, his voice quavering. No sooner had he pulled the card out of his pocket than he felt it grabbed out of his hand. The tall guy tossed it aside, and winked at the other two. The next thing they tossed was the duffel bag.

“I’ll tell ya what ya have, you asshole,” he laughed.

With that, Arthur was grabbed from behind as the chaos began.

What happened next Arthur only remembered bits and pieces of. Such a blur time became when he was knocked to the ground. In the minutes that followed, he remembered only pain and loneliness as he lay there, the men’s feet kicking mercilessly. With each kick, Arthur winced, which only cranked up the volume on the trio’s laughter. Such sniggering spilled off the men’s lips that Arthur’s ears rang with the sound of it.

“STAY DOWN, FREAK!”

Again he wondered: why?

Why do people treat me so badly?

Why is this my life?

He stared sadly down at the floor, wondering how many more kicks it would take until death came to fetch him. If they didn’t stop, he figured it wouldn’t be long. There was only so much a man as skinny as Arthur could take.

It felt like forever when the men finally left. But even as they darted off the train, still Arthur could hear them tittering, their voices thick with cruelty. Arthur meanwhile, stayed on the ground. The pain coursing through his body was ruthless. But even so, his thoughts wandered to the woman. She was safe. He might not have been able to physically stop those men, but laughter had proved just as effective a weapon.

Laughter had drawn those creeps away from her. He was glad he’d been able to help. He was no knight in shining armour, nor was he a fearless superhero. He was, however, a romantic at heart. Creeps and thugs wandered the streets of Gotham like hungry, greedy rats. If people like Arthur didn’t step in to try and protect those preyed on by predators, then who would?

When he reached his stop and slowly stepped off the subway, Arthur stopped. It was nighttime. A light breeze kicked up, blowing his greasy brown curls across his forehead. He shivered, zipping up his brown sweater to ward off the autumn chill. Above him sat the moon, lounging about in a starless sky.

He tucked his hands in his pockets, staring aimlessly skyward.

He and the woman on the subway hadn’t spoken a single word to each other.

Yet he couldn’t get her out of his head. Something about her he just couldn’t shake. Unlike all the others he bumped into day to day, she hadn’t shaken her head in disapproval when he’d been visited by another one of his laughing fits. Not even a little. Nor had she sneered and laughed at him like he was the definition of a pathetic joke.

Arthur’s lips curled up in a small smile.

In the few minutes he’d known her, one thing he felt sure of: she was different.

He wished he could see her again. But he knew that wasn’t likely. Gotham was a big city. The odds of bumping into her again weren’t in his favor.

And yet still, this didn’t stop lonely Arthur from hoping all the same.

[pendragon50]

Think I’m going to start writing an Arthur Fleck fan fiction. I haven’t been able to get this character out of my head, and now that I’m inspired to start writing again, time to give Arthur a story. Still brainstorming, but I’m going to smother this man with so much love and romance, he won’t know what to do with it <3

[pendragon50]

Been 8 weeks since I sent my YA fantasy off for a manuscript evaluation. Should be arriving any day now and I’m just crossing my fingers and toes whoever’s reading my work likes at least something about it. I know my writing needs work, the story needs work, and most likely other aspects of the story need improvement, but oh I do hope they like the idea or at least see potential with it. 

Hoping the rewrite goes well and I can maybe start querying agents in the new year (gulp).

[darling-fetch--the-battle-axe]

Really tempted to reread the Pendragon series again before classes start.

[gargoylesrock]

i really really really really want to see the Pendragon series by DJ McHale turned into a TV show. not a series of movies. a tv show. that doesnt cut details out like they do with movies.

[hifi-rat]

Its the year 2018 and I’ve finally found active blogs about pendragon this is so validating it makes me want to draw some dank fan art knowing there’s people that still care hobey ho bitches

[wilsonsmistakes-deactivated2018]

Alrigt since I gained like 30 followers after making a stupid shitpost

All of you go read Pendragon by McHale RIGHT NOW ITS LITERALLY MY FAVOURITE BOOK SERIES AND ITS STUPIDLY OBSCURE WHY HAS NO ONE HEARD OF IT

[pendragonthegreat]

mark’s birthday is in like a week and….. i love him

[nuttersandacorn-blog-blog]

I want to see if the Pendragon fandom really ISN'T nonexistent!

If you blog about Pendragon you should totally reblog this so I can follow you >D

[fyeahbobbypendragon]

lol. there is a fandom. bout 100 of us.

[none-sex-left-gay]

 I would blog about Pendragon. I love it. But there’s not much to reblog ._.

[jakehawkfield]

vo spider has 8 limbs. it is much easier to tread water 

vo speeder gets a ticket for boating too fast

vo phader goes to veelox and is employed in a lifelight pyramid

vo weeder takes up gardening

no spader. he is gone

woah spader is surprisingly fast

vo swayer woos all the ladies

vo slayer kills for fun

[jakehawkfield]

vo player has commitment issues

[sydneythelibrarian]

Why is there NOONE in the Pendragon fandom?? Wherever you are, please find me.

[pendragonthegreat]

hey me!! i love pendragon

[shidoburrito]

To the Nightwalker fandom (all…3 of us): Saint Dane is from Pendragon and can turn into smoke. To the Pendragon fandom: Shido hunts Nightbreeds. So, basically this comic is made for me and makes me laugh. Also, it was born of a joke a friend and I have of episode 2 “Terms of Stardom” where they just leave Yoko’s dead body on the theater roof. Uh, Shido? Yayoi? Don’t just leave! That corpse is going to start stinking! Just imagine a poor janitor going to investigate THAT smell… >_<

[pendragonthegreat]

these lads reviewing pendragon on amazon dot com be like “bobby has such good character development” what the heck i can’t even get people who read the books to see how good courtney chetwynde’s character development is

[pendragon50]

Courtney’s development is amazing. Definitely my favourite female character in the series.

[pendragonthegreat]

me when i open up audible and play pendragon book three the never war