#joker 2019 x you

A Place in your Home; A Place in your Heart | Arthur Fleck x reader 

// original request: Hi! I love your writings and I shyly wanted to request something. ^^ I wonder if you could write about Reader that has a difficult situation and has to find a new place to live, but doesnt have enough money? Arthur wants to help her and offers her that she can live with him. They’ve not dated for long but it’s serious and the’re much in love. She wants to move in with him, but she’s afraid it wouldn not work out for many reasons, but eventually she agrees and Arthur is immensely happy. ^^

// A/N: This originally was going to be a longer fic, but I’ve been struggling with writing yet again, so I figured breaking it down into headcanons was easier than taking eons longer to write something more detailed.

thanks for the request, @dont-be-alarmed

• It had been nearly three weeks since you were given the news, the words barely making their way over the fuzzy phone lines, voice as uncaring as ever.
• Due to a better suited tenant making an offer, your lease was not going to be renewed, and you needed to be out by the end of the month - no if, ands, or buts about it.
• Your lifestyle was a hand to mouth one; paycheck to paycheck, your weekly earnings were just enough to cover rent and basic necessities with little left over to save, splurges on luxuries being an occasional, very rare treat.
• With your rainy day savings, your actualsavings,andthe total accumulation of the profit you made from selling various items that you could, you barely had enough to cover even a depositon any of the nearby apartments - let alone deposit, andthe first month’s rent. 
• In short, you were screwed.
• You were screwed, and it was eating at you. Day and night, the thought loomed over you like the piles of trash that littered the city, threatening to topple over on passersby at any moment. 
• Had you been given a much more reasonably timed heads up, it wouldn’t have been even half an issue, yet you were left to do nothing but lay in bed, eyes burning as you stared at the television, seeing but not really watching the program on it. You’d been pulled from your restless sleep by the sound of a glass bottle dropping and shattering somewhere outside, and given that it was nearly four in the morning, you were about to give up on sleep. 
• Even in your sleepy haze, did the weight of the situation hit you like a truck, your stomach tightening with anxiety, the churning twist of panic, worry, and hopelessnessmaking your eyes blur with tears as you shifted your gaze to the ceiling.
• You couldn’t help but almost pitifully chuckle at that - soon, there wouldn’t even bea ceiling for you to cry over.
• December was nearly on its last legs with Christmas just around the corner; the days of autumn bleeding into those of winter as you found yourself growing more and more grateful each day that your boyfriend’s apartment was one of the few that had a functioning heating system. Temperatures dipped below freezing more often than not, and you often had to take a moment to brace yourself before you stepped outside as the air’s freeze physically hurtsometimes - your eyes, nose, and fingers on the days you forgot your gloves stinging from the wind, while any exposed skin reddened from the nip of the wind. 
• It was thoughts of days like those that made you brief a sigh of relief and sink back into the couch of Arthur’s living room, one of his softest blankets fluffed and draped around your body as you curled your legs under yourself, warm and safe from the harsh weather outside, and the even harsher population of the city.
• It was also thoughts of days like those that reminded you that this wasn’t going to last. 
• “Love, what’s on your mind?”
• As in tune with your emotions as ever, Arthur noticed that you were particularly quiet that evening, lost in your thoughts as you didn’t even pay any mind to the television - set to the weekly airing of The Murray Franklin Show.
• You hadn’t even told Arthur what was going on, the fear of stressing your already overworked boyfriend out keeping you from opening your mouth. 
• “Huh? Oh - nothing,” You blinked, turning your attention from the carpet to the television. “I’m just tired.” You spoke, fingertips picking at the frayed hem of the blanket currently wrapped around your body.
• Another hint for Arthur: no Art, no Artietacked on the end to your reply. From the corner of your eye could you see him through the passthrough, eyeing you from his spot at the kitchen counter where he was taking the utmost care to not spill the mug of hot chocolate he was making you as he stirred it.
• Even though your relationship was hardly out of its infancy, you both knew each other well enough to tell when something was wrong. Arthur was already so very in tune with your emotions, so you knew he wasn’t just going to let your morose mood go without a question or two, and you knew yourselfenough to know that something about Arthur’s concern hit a soft spot in your heart, rendering you unable to keep much from him once he managed to get into your head. 
• He seemed almost sad as he now stood in the entrance to the living room, his lips settled into a thin line as he kept his eyes trained on you. You felt yourself shrink under his gaze, the guilt from keeping something so major from him eating at you, but the uncertainty and apprehension of not only howyou’d bring it up with Arthur, but how he’d react.
• One of your worst fears was Arthur jumping on the opportunity to have you live with him. Not because you didn’t wantto, not because you didn’t trust him or anything of the sort - but Arthur had a habit of putting the needs of others, especially your own, miles above his own. Money was muchtighter for him than it was for you, and hell you had no idea if even combining incomes would be much help. No doubt that it would be some, but whether it would be enough, especially given the uncertain job climate of Gotham, left you scratching your head. 
• Arthur took a seat next to you, the drink he brought you placed on the coffee table, and with a deep breath, you let it spill out faster than you really meant for it to.
• Your lease was ending in just over a week. Your landlord had no intent of renewing it because someone else was moving in, and you had no money to move elsewhere yet, even after your best efforts at earning enough. You had no where to go, nothing to do, no way to remedy the situation - and time was running out.
• Hell, you had no idea if at this point you even could do anything beyond accepting the inevitable.
• “Why… don’t you stay here?” 
  
• Arthur’s meek, yet hopeful voice raising such a suggestion made your ears perk up. You hadn’t even thought about that - but immediately did you know that it wouldn’t work. At least not yet.
• “Art - I can’t do that, you know I can’t.” You couldn’t look at him as you spoke, the thought of being able to live in with him making your heart skip a beat, but the knowledge that it almost most definitely was not realistic at the moment making it hard to swallow.
• “Why can’t you?”
• “It won’t work - it’s not going to work.”
• Though instantly you regret speaking those words, wincing once you realized what they implied. You knew Arthur and his anxieties well enough to know that it wasn’t improbable that he took “it won’t work” as meaning, you didn’t have enough faith in your relationship for it to work.
• “ - Notlikethat,”You were quick to correct yourself, hoping to save the situation before it became more angst ridden. “I mean, living together. At least right now. Money is already tight for you, isn’t it? And I mean, it’s not like my own job is the most stable right now.”
• “Y/N, do you really think that matters?”Arthur looked almost angry as he spoke, as if the fact that you were concerned about finances was ridiculous in such a situation. You knew Arthur enough to know he wasn’t actually mad, at least not at you, but still on edge at the threat of your loss of shelter. “You’ll be homeless, and - and who knows what could happen to you out there -” The hitch in Arthur’s breath as he spoke, coupled with the way his left hand gripped at the fabric of his trousers clued you in that this was something extremelydistressing for him. 
• You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, yet you refused to let them fall as you blinked them away. “Arthur -”
• “Please,”Arthur’s hand shot out for your own, his warm from holding the hot drink previously as he held your hand tight in his own. “Y/N, please.. Don’t worry about money, we’ll figure it out - but it’s dangerous, it’s awful out there and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you -” 
  
• Had you not stopped him midsentence with a gentle “Hey -”, you’d no doubt Arthur would’ve either succumbed to a fit of laughter, tears, or both.
• “ - Arthur, hey,” Your free hand that wasn’t kept in his own reached for his shoulder, tugging gently on the fabric of that brown cardigan you so loved, pulling him closer to you. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder, his breath just barely noticeable against the fabric of your chest. “I dont… I don’t know what I’d do, either - Arthur I just don’t want to add more to your plate, you’re already so overworked, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
• You could feel Arthur shake his head at your words, but he didn’t speak - not that you blamed him.
• With your lips now pressed to the top of his head, you took a deep breath, breathing in his scent. That comforting scent you’ve come to love and seek out within the few months you’ve been with him - the scent you, really, wouldn’t mind being surrounded by all of the time. 
• “We’ll try,” You said finally, not missing how Arthur seemed to tense up at your words. “Arthur I… would love to stay here - I would, love to live with you. It’s going to take some time to adjust - never mind actually making the move - but… I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
• You could’ve laughed at how Arthur shot up at this, his eyes wide as he seemed full of disbelief for a moment before your own reassuring smile sparked a growing grin on his face. “Do you really mean it, Y/N?”
• “Waking up with, going to bed next to, coming home to you doesn’t sound all too bad, the more I think about it,” You whispered, your body finding its way to Arthur’s as his arms pulled you close. 
  
• Maybethis home wouldn’t be so bad. 

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Requests are open

Please check out my masterlist to see what I’ve already written, currently my only rule is no NSFW requests, but other than that, go nuts 

Kinda unsure if anyone really reads my stuff anymore, but for those that do/those that will once I begin posting again;

Do you prefer oneshots, or do you like mutli-part pieces? I have a few ideas for some multi-part pieces (the continuation(s) for Smile are included), but I’m not entirely sure how… much attention they’ll get and I don’t want to bore readers with content they don’t care too much for.

Standing up for Arthur Fleck;

// original request: Y/N stands up to penny, Randall, and Hoyt for Arthur

thank you for the request, @disabledwarriorwriter:-)

AN: we’re just gonna. pretend hoyt keeps a mini fridge in his office. for the sake of simplicity. thanks. Originally a list of headcanons but I kinda drew ‘em out and turned them into a scenario. Thank you for your patience.

Summary:You love Arthur, and Arthur loves you - and neither of you could stand to see the other hurt. Arthur always so adamantly defended you and stood up for you when you failed to do so for yourself, but you began to feel as if maybe - maybe- you weren’t doing yourjob of defending him like you should’ve been. 

Luckily, one day in Arthur’s haze of exhaustion does he forget something at home on his way to work one morning, and you decide to bring it to him - giving you the perfectopportunity to give those who handle him roughly a small piece of your mind.

Words:4041

Neither you nor Arthur were very assertive. 

Though both of you could be when the time came for it, very quickly was it learned that more often than not, it was best to just let things go, in Gotham; everyone knew that it was best to just avoid the fight that would inevitably come with confrontation - avoid the problems, the anger, and the violence that seemed to be lurking around every corner. No one in the city liked to accept responsibility for their shitty behavior, and any sort of criticism - whether warranted or not - only led to more anger and violence, and neither you nor Arthur had the energy to deal with it on most days. 

The passive attitude the two of you had long since adopted was both a blessing and a curse for the two of you; a blessing as you could so easily let things go and not letting them fester and bother you for days to come - but also a curse, as that passiveness was often taken as weakness- and being perceived as weakonly tempted others to try and take advantage of you. They’d think that they could just push, and push, and push- that they could just walk all over whomever they pleased, and that the one who was weakwould just sit there and take it without any form of argument, push back, or resistance.

In a way, it was almost comical. Where the two of you lacked in standing up for yourselves individually, did the other one come in. You both knew what it was like to be hurt and abused, and from your love for each other came the desire to protectthe other and keep them safe in the streets of the city. You wouldn’t stand to see your other half get hurt and exploited - and so you’d readily and happilystep in to stand up for them if they were having a hard time doing so for themselves. Perhaps a bit of an unhealthy dynamic, but one that worked for the both of you and usually kept either of you from getting hurt.

In your time together, Arthur had stood up for you time and time again; at the market, when a woman roughly shoved you aside without any hesitation or apology so she could cut in front of you in line, then again on the street minutes later when you’d had insults and slurs thrown at you by total strangers just because they felt like it, and then that time on the subway when someone decided that they didn’t like how you glanced at them for a fraction of a second and tried to start a fight. Arthur hated far little else as much as he hated seeing you get hurt and disrespected, and so out of what seemed like nowhere would he become bursting with a type of energy and confidence that you rarely ever saw, sticking up for you without even a hintof that same insecurity and hesitance that typically kept him from helping himself in similar situations.

It was sweet of him, but how angryyou’d get at yourself for not being able to do the same for him nearly as much as he did for you. Arthur never came right out and saidthat anyone was tormenting him or anything, but judging by the way he spoke about his days at work with the occasional mention of a name or two, you had a feeling that he wasn’t exactly very well respected at Haha’s - or, really, anywhere he went, for that matter.

Just from his stories alone did you know how much of a domineering bullyhis coworker Randall could be, and how he always passed it off as just him havin’ a laugh with his boy and that of courseArtie knew he was just playin’; how much Hoyt overworked Arthur, using any excuse he could to underpay and berate him for things completely unrelated to him, and how Penny - Arthur’s own mother- would often totally ignore Arthur’s own needs and wants, so self focused on herself that she apparently failed to see any problem in dismissing and belittling her own son’s dreams and goals, completely undermining how hardworking and deserving he truly was.

While just being aware that it happened hurt you, it didn’t pain you nearlyas much as it did to know Arthur seemed to just let that stuff happen - but deep down, you knew that wasn’t really the case. You knew what would happen if he stood up for himself; it would just open him up to more ridicule, more bullying, more harassment - none which anything that Arthur needed to deal with more. It was much less of him just lettingit happen, and more of him being powerlessin the face of it, the more you thought about it. Powerless and vulnerable - two things you hated to think of him as.

In a way, you were angry at the city itself and those around him who you had no doubt saw the mistreatment as it happened - but did nothing to help. As guilty as the perpetrators were they, in your eyes.

But Arthur’s struggle to stand up for himself and the voyeur-esque attitudes of those around him didn’t mean that youhad to just sit there and let it happen, too.

Ever since the two of you had begun dating, you’d both been on top of making sure that the other took care of themselves properly, and that included making sure they were eating well. You knew how Arthur rarely had time at work to stop in anywhere and eat, and how he had even less pocket money than he did time, so you picked up on making small, easy lunches that he could grab on the way out the door to take with him. They were always simple things; sandwiches, leftovers from the previous night packed securely in Tupperware, occasionally you’d bake some cookies and send a few of those - just random, small, easy things that you could afford, and Arthur appreciated them more than he could even begin to express. He almost broke down into tears the first time you presented him with a lunch you’d packed for him; a brown paper lunch bag, the top of it rolled in securely, with your bubbly handwriting reading Artiewith a big heart across both sides. 

This became a routine for you, and most nights a week you’d take an extra few minutes to prepare something for him. He’d always ask if he could help, feeling ever soguilty that you were going out of your way to care for him, but you always brushed it off with a shrug, telling him you were doing it because you lovedhim - as well as tossing in a playful comment here and there about how what you were making him was a top secret surprise so he was temporarily banned from the kitchen while you did so. 

He was always so good about remembering to grab what you made him, but one morning after a night of actually managing to sleepand subsequently oversleeping, so exhausted was he that on the way out the door he forgot to grab what you’d put together for him. By the time you opened the fridge realized he’d left it behind he was already long gone, but given the fact that his workplace was only a five minute walk and a 15 minute bus ride away and you had the day off you figured the least you could do was bring it to him, and so you slipped on your shoes and jacket and set out.

The commute was uneventful, but the closer you actually got to Haha’s, the more did a sinking feeling settle into the pit of your stomach; a nagging, gnawing, almost warningpang of anxiety that seemed to be telling you to brace yourself for whatever you were going to have to put up with once you arrived. It was the feeling you typically had when you were about to pass by a rough looking group on the street, the same feeling you got when you knew you were about to run into trouble - and you knew that the trouble your subconscious was trying to warn you of was most likely Arthur’s coworkers. 

And once you actually arrived at Haha’s did you wish you’d listened to it and braced yourself better.

For starters, there was no response when you rang the bell. The sign taped on the door felt like it was almost taunting you; HaHa’s Talent Booking Agency, Please Ring Bell, with a crudely drawn arrow pointing to the doorbell that was either so quiet no one heard it, or totally out of service and thus, useless. 

It was frustrating - it was nearly nine at that point and you knew that Arthur had a gig early that morning, so the chances of him still being there were incredibly slim and you didn’t want to leave his things with anyone but him. It took a good minute of debate, but you mustered up every bit of courage you had and with a deep breath pulled the door open. You wanted to go in, find a safe place to leave his lunch, and leave. Nothing more, nothing less.

Immediately did the air of the interior slam you in the face; it was warmer than the air outside was, and thick and heavy with the hazy scent of cigarette smoke and mildew slamming you in the face. An unpleasant greeting, and you held your breath on the way up the stairs and through the hallway until you ended up in what you figured was the main room.

The room itself wasn’t what was bad, considering it was Gotham city and most buildings needed a good bit of repair, but the atmosphere itselfwas what made you feel more sick to your stomach than the air that was thick with scent of cigarette smoke and sweat did.

Most conversation came to a halt, voices trailing off and words cut short as everyone’s attention turned to you once the creak of the floor under your footsteps was heard. Men in their thirties, forties, and probably even fiftiesturned to look at you; some of them looking amused, some annoyed, and some undeniably hungry. 

You smiled, albeit incredibly awkwardly, at them, hoping that a friendly disposition would be enough to stave off any sort of crude comments any of them may make, and as you were about to speak up and ask where Arthur was, two words into your question were you interrupted by a particularly large man on the other side of the room. 

“Oh, well, well, who d’we got here?” He thumbed at the suspenders that held up his oversized red trousers as he sauntered over to you, a lazy, lopsided, poor attempt at a friendly grin spread on his face. “You lost, sweetheart?”

It took most of your self restraint to not roll your eyes at the name, and instead you kept up your smile. “Oh - no, actually. I’m here for someone, but I don’t see him -”

“Yeah? Who around here could you possiblywant anything to do with?”

Yet again did he interrupt you - but in that second did you realize who heactually was. You knew that this was Randall, and he fit the exact image you’d had in your head of him: tall, sleazy, and obnoxious - but you weren’t about to let him have his way with you like he so often did others.

Straightening up, you looked him in the eye as any trace of geniality that was once present vanished from your face. “Arthur. I’m his girlfriend, and I need to see him for something.”

A handful of the men scattered around the room choked back laughs. A quick look around showed that a good chunk of them found your comment funny enough to scoff at, most uncaring that you’d caught them smirking at the apparent utter absurdity that Arthur Fleck had a girlfriend. They couldn’t believe it, and Randall especially seemed to get a kick out of how unlikely it was.

“Aw, c’mon,” He reached forward to nudge your shoulder with his hand, a poor attempt at being playful. “Artie’s not here right now, but I’m surehe wouldn’t mind sharin’ with us. Why don’t you come sit with us? We’d love to meet you.” 

You stepped backwards. “No, thank you, really. I’m just here for Arthur, and I have somewhere else I need to be. Is there someplace I can leave this so he’ll get it?” You held the bag up for a second long enough so he could get a look, but you absolutely did nottrust any of them enough to leave Arthur’s belongings anywhere near them. Considering how often they teased Arthur, you figured it wasn’t too far fetched to assume that they’d have no issue fucking with his stuff, and the suspicion of it alone was enough to make you immediately distrust the lot of them.

Not even taking the hint, Randall continued on. “C’mon, don’t be such a stick in the mud, sweetheart. You can leave it with us, yeah? I’m dying to know what you brought our Arthur.” 

TheirArthur. It was a comment you had to once again stop yourself from rolling your eyes at, but by that point you’d had well more than enough. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to leave it with them or stay there with them, yet he just kept pushing. One thing you hated was someone who couldn’t - who wouldn’t- take no for an answer.

“You know,” You stepped up to him, ignoring the fact that you couldn’t properly square him up considering he had at least half a foot on you in height. “I know I don’t reallyknow you that well, but from just this interaction I can already tell that Arthur is more of a man than you could ever even dream of being. At least he can take no for an answer - something you should work on, sweetheart.”

You spoke sweetheartwith a spat of venom; enunciating it condescendingly enough to get the point across. This was the first time you’d even met the guy, but just from his presence alone could you tell that even if it weren’t for already knowing what he put Arthur through that you stillwouldn’t like him. He wasn’t an ass in a blunt, high-school bully type of way; rather it was a subtle, almost passive aggressive, domineering form of teasing that seemed to put those around him into some strange position of submission so he was left free to poke fun at them however he pleased - modeled perfectly so any retaliation could be shrugged off with an excuse of “C’mon, I was just kidding around.” 

“Is there anywhere I can leave this?” Your impatience was evident at this point; your foot tapping, and you were hesitant to make any eye contact with the men as you looked about the room. At this point you just wanted to get out of there - you hadn’t intended for any of this to happen today, and while you were almost mad at yourself for being so rude with Randall and causing such a stir, you weren’t in the mood to put up with this situation orhim, and to say he deserved it would’ve been an understatement.

Of all the men in the room, while most of them were large in stature, it was ironically enough the smallest of them that seemed to be able to find it in him to respond to your question. A small, balding man of about four feet tall who stood at his locker, quietly watching the exchange before he reached a hand out, pointing towards the hallway behind you. “Hoyt keeps a spot in his office, you could leave it with him. I’ll let Arthur know when I see him.” 

With a smile and an appreciative nod of your head, you turned around and headed down the hallway, ignoring the chatter of the men as you left. Thankfully, the section of the building was small and apart from the descending stairs and a doorway right at the top labeled Restroom, there was only a short hallway with a door at the far end - the peeling, chipping letters spelling O fice stuck to it.

You knocked, and through the window of the door could you see that - whom you presumed to be Hoyt - either didn’t hear you, or couldn’t be bothered to respond. With the nature of the place it wasn’t too out there to assume it was most likely the latter, but not wanting to be rude you knocked again - only for him to shout an irritated “What?” from his desk, muffled through the door as he couldn’t be bothered to look up as you pushed the door open. 

“Can I help you?” Finallydid he look up at you, taking his eyes from whatever he was writing and focusing on you. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry - I was told there was a spot I could leave this, in here? It’s food, for Arthur.” You held the bag up, and Hoyt glanced between you and it, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinized you.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Arthur’s girlfriend.” 

“Arthur.Girlfriend.” Hoyt laughed at that, shaking his head before he went back to writing, the cigarette that was smoking away in the ashtray stinking the room up. “Jesus, those are two words that don’t belong together.”

“How come everyone has such a hard time believing that Arthur could be in a relationship?” You knew you had to speak carefully; say the wrong thing, piss off his boss or one of his coworkers enough, and it wouldn’t be you in trouble - it would be Arthur who’d end up paying for it. “He’s great, he’s a hard worker and he’s really nice, unlike a lot of people nowadays. He’s taken for granted way too much.” 

Hoyt only hummed in response, unamused. Sure.

“Imeanit, those guys out there are awful to him. You seriously don’t hear it?” 

“Look, as long as they work and don’t get into trouble on company time, I stay out of it. They’re grown men and I ain’t their parent.” 

“Hoyt, I know this is the first time I’ve been around here, but Arthur is one of the hardest workers you have here. He comes home exhaustedall the time, and rarely ever takes a day off. He hates causing problems, so the least you could do for him is tell the others to knock it off when they’re bothering him.”

You thought you could see the subtle bob of a nod from him, but you wouldn’t bet much on it. “You can put that in there,” He pointed with his pen towards the far corner of the room, where nestled between a stack of boxes and the window was a small, off-white, chipping mini fridge that probably needed to be replaced. “The others won’t mess with it if it’s in there.”

Once Arthur’s lunch was tucked safely between another brown paper bag and a Tupperware container with contents that you couldn’t discern, you offered little more than a hurried thank you to Hoyt as you left the room, turning left, hopping down the stairs and back out the door without looking back. 

You never wanted to go back, but you hoped what you said had at least made some impact.

Whether Arthur was completely unaware of what you had done at Haha’s or he didn’t know how to bring it up you weren’t sure, but one thing you did know was how he seemed almost… lighter, that night. Usually, when he came home he was tired, dragging his feet as he was weighed down by both his fatigue and the stress that came just from living in the kind of city the two of you did, but Arthur seemed cheerful - almost giddy,that night. His shoulders weren’t slouched, and he wasn’t dragging his feet like he tended to from his exhaustion; instead, when he came through the apartment door, he greeted you at your spot at the sink where you were washing dishes by turning you from the counter, his right arm coming to wrap around your waist and his left hand to your face so he could kiss you in a deeper manner than he typically did when he came home from work, gracefully spinning the two of you so you were pressed between his body and the edge of the counters

Whatever was going on, you absolutely weren’tgoing to argue with it.

After checking in with each other did he excuse himself to the bathroom so he could wash off the remaining streaks of white greasepaint that clung to the sharp edges of his jaw, and you finished up the dishes, settling down on the couch, trying to think of options you could cook up for dinner as Arthur returned, taking a seat next to you.

“Thank you, again, sweetheart for bringing my lunch today,” Arthur said, his voice soft and his words grateful as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Oh,Happy,” Penny interjected before you could answer your boyfriend, her attention taken from the television by Arthur’s words and she looked towards the pair of you. “You forgot something again, and Y/N had to bring it to you?” 

She had a certain look on her face - her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows raised as she scolded her son. You almost asked her what she meant by againas this was, as far as you could remember, the only time you had to bring Arthur something he forgot - but questioning didn’t matter. Not right now. You were already on a roll today, and you weren’t about to let Penny of all people now dig at Arthur, and tear down his good mood.

“Pen, Arthur is stressed, overworked, and exhausted. You can’t expect him to be on top of everything all the time,” You leaned back on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV as in your annoyance you couldn’t bother to look at her. “Besides, he deserves to have someone help him out. He’s always taking care of us and things here, and it’s only right that I look out for him, too. It’s unfair for him to have to do everything when he already works so hard.” 

“Well, he always has been a hard worker. Maybe a little too hard, you don’t think I don’t see how tired you are all the time? Those sleeping pills of yours don’t seem to be working.” She said, redirecting her attention from you back to Arthur. “You’re lucky you have Y/N, she helps keep you in line.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” You laughed, though Penny was hardly amused. Arthur, as per usual, didn’t say anything about his mother’s critique of him. “I think Arthur’s taken for granted, way too often. He’s funny, and I have no doubt that he’s one of the best guys that a girl could ever ask for.”

You figured you should stop before your poor boyfriend at your side was reduced to nothing but a puddle on the floor, and you could tell how embarrassed he was from not only how adamantly you defended him, but how you spoke of his character as well, by how tightly his hand was holding your own, his face angled away from his mother and yourself.

You didn’t want to stop, though. If you could, you’d sing praises of him to the damn heavens themselvesif that’s what it took for your boyfriend to get the respect and recognition he deserved. 

You turned to him, your hand cupping his face and pulling him to look at you as you brought your face close to his, whispering to him before you pressed a kiss to his lips -

“I mean it. I love you, Arthur. You’re one of the best, and one day everyone’s gonna realize it.”

——————————————————————————taglist;

@tahliamalfoydepp@tsukiakarinobara@smol-nari@ajokeformur-ray@lavenderheartz@lady-carnivals-stuff@darknessisafriend@emissarydecksetter@soulsdontbreaktheybeeend@fleckcmscott@oldloverhippiemusic@hearthurfleck@sgtsavoytruffle@honking4joker@art-hurfleck@carnivalou@mr–clown @obsessedandthirsty (let me know if you’d like to be added)

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