#ilovejoanfucius

[disastrouslydared]

Makeover, Makeover!

Okay, so this is my first non-oc fic soooooo please be nice with criticisms….😭. This was cross-posted on AO3!

Joan had been begging and pleading for weeks for Confucius to let her revise him in her style, but the man kept refusing. It was only until she made that one face that he just couldn't help but accept her offer that she finally found a way in…

“Confucius, stay still! It’ll smudge!”

Confucius whined as he turned his face away from his increasingly irritated yet amused girlfriend, his eyes screwed shut while Joan rolled hers. “I don’t wanna be a black-eyed monster!”

Joan was sitting in Confucius’s lap with one of his wrists in her hand and the other resting on his cheek while he lay on his back, his free arm shielding his face and his legs bent to make her more comfortable. Joan had been trying to “gothify” Confucius for weeks now and he kept refusing, saying he preferred his blue hair and big “tentish” clothes. He liked being bright and interesting to look at! Not that Joan wasn’t interesting to look at, at least he thought she was. It wasn’t until Joan gave him that look she knew would make him unable to refuse that he begrudgingly agreed and accepted her invitation to stay the night at her place.

“Confucius, baby, no one will tell any kind of stories about you.” She saw his expression drop into a pouted one and quickly backtracked. “In a good way! You’ll still look cute, babe! It’s just black makeup, that’s all I’m doing!” Joan cupped his cheek with a reassuring smile as he opened one of his eyes. He pressed his lips into a fine line before he sighed and turned to look up at her full.

Her magenta-dyed strands brushed against his face and tickled his skin, the feeling of her shallow breaths making him want to squirm underneath her again. It didn’t help she wasn’t in her usual gothic attire, having traded it for more comfortable fitting clothes.

A grungy black t-shirt with the title of some indie film he didn’t recognize (not that he recognized most of the merch she got from those film festivals-), loose skull-patterned shorts, and her bangs that’d she decided to grow out to look more like her clone mother were clipped back with a bright blue barrette. The change in clothes had Confucius reeling and was the main reason he could stay still for her, and why he was as red as Joan’s lipstick. But he wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

Joan had been a mess ever since Confucius stepped foot in her house, that smile of his beaming down at her making her heart speed up three times faster than usual. He’d ditched his typical blue jacket and pink plaid shirt, choosing to wear a pink sweatshirt, his usual black pants, and his bright white trainers. It wasn’t a huge difference, but when she saw the way that sweatshirt hugged his arms, she knew it was over for her.

Joan and Confucius stared at each other for a while. Joan held her liquid eyeliner like a knife to his eyelid, and Confucius’s hand held her wrist away from his face. “Confucius, baby, you’re gonna be fine.” She reassured him before leaning down to kiss his forehead, feeling him melt into her sheets as he had that goofy lovesick grin on his lips. That was all he needed.

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“I need a new name now, Confucius isn’t gonna cut it.” Confucius stood in front of her bathroom mirror admiring himself and doing several poses with dumb faces to match. Joan had made him the most mall-goth version of himself he’d never imagined.

His eyes had copious amounts of black eyeliner that was a bit spiky and eye-catching. Joan gave him fake bridges and snake bite piercings by sticking some silver body gems onto him. “Oh, oh, how about… Lex. Oooh, or —and hear me out about this— Ripper.” He flexed his arms in the mirror with manly grunts and growls, but to Joan, he just looked silly. Hot, but silly.

“I am not letting you change your name!” She laughed between her words as she hung off his shoulders. Confucius didn’t really mean what he was saying; he was only doing so to hear Joan’s laughter fill the bathroom. He looked down at her with a similar expression before rubbing his chin and pretending like he was considering it. “But doesn’t it sound cool to meet a guy named Ripper? I’d never mess with a Ripper, babe.” Joan’s squeaky laughs only got louder with each remark as Confucius felt his cheeks get warmer and his smile grow broader.

He pulled out his phone and started taking photos with the two of them, making silly faces and a few model faces. They were blurred and a bit funny looking but it made it all the better. “I’m so sending these to Harriet, she’s gonna freak!” Confucius exclaimed as he looked over the photos, his heart slightly fluttering at the sight of Joan’s overjoyed grin, her laugh could almost be heard from the screen.

“And I’ll keep this one for my wallpaper..” Confucius mumbled to himself before looking over at Joan who was messing around with her appearance in the mirror, her cheeks reddened from all the smiling she'd been doing and he couldn't help but stare at her with a goofy smile.

He felt so fucking lucky to be with her.