Archive of Our Own ^beta

The apartment wasn’t cramped, but it did have enough stuff crammed into all four corners that one could probably call it maximalist. Though that hadn’t been what Zoey had been going for, it did make the whole thing homey. Homier. A home.

Even the thought sent a warm thrill up Zoey’s spine. She watered the strelitzia in the corner to distract herself from the fuzzy feeling. It was nice, yes, but she still wasn’t quite at the point where she could think about it for too long without collapsing into a pile of mush.

Almost two semesters here, and already it was the first place Zoey thought of when she thought of home.

“I’m thinking about that too much,” she said to herself, moving over to the Monstera deliciosa. The soil was appropriately dry, so she moved to the succulents. Also good. The first forays into Ikea plants had led to disaster. It turned out that most plants didn’t actually need that much water.

The other three plants were Fejka fakes, decorating the second bedroom. It currently was Celeste’s studio, since Val and Jasmine were more apt to crashing in a cushy hotel.

They hadn’t been able to get anything in Brooklyn, even with both Wendy and her own parents helping.

Her parents' help had been somewhat of a surprise, but they seemed happy enough that Zoey was moving all the way across the country. She didn’t like to think about it.

This place was nice, despite that. The neighborhood was nice, too. There was a restaurant specializing in SynthMeat run by a Hollow couple. It had the occasional protest piece in the paper, but no one ever came by to cause a fuss.

Zoey moved on to giving the walls a quick dust. It was something they both often forgot to do, since the furniture was more important.

Not that the art wasn’t important, it was just way harder to see the dust.

She gave a final glance after she was done, nodding at the newly shiny frames. The art was an odd mix of both of their styles, all gathered in various thrift stores and, one memorable time, the side of the road.

The furniture was the same. The centerpiece was a dark green sofa with patches. A bright pink chair with a black bird print sat next to the couch and a circular coffee table with an inset sun pattern in front of it.

It didn’t match, but Celeste had been happy enough with the thrill of hunting furniture that didn’t have bed bugs.

Plus, the chair had grown on Zoey. It was very Celeste. She kicked her boots under it, nudging until they disappeared underneath. Now clean, she stood back and took it in with a happy smile.

She then headed into the kitchen, dropping off her supplies. The two of them usually alternated chores whenever possible. The last thing needed (besides laundry, a task the two of them always took together) was dinner. She set it in the heater and waited.

A recent invention, which was barely an invention, was a SynHeater. Obviously meant for heating SynFlesh, it helped with quality of life. It was mostly used to keep the SynFlesh out of the standard oven, but both of them appreciated how compact it was. Without an oven they’d saved a couple hundred.

The door to Celeste’s studio opened, and with a yawn Celeste walked out.

“I just need to edit and the April Fool’s video will be ready to post.”

She had sparkly tinsel eyelashes and some truly bizarre makeup on. There was just as sparkly bright green eyeshadow and dark red lipstick. A few face stamps lined her cheekbones.

“It was about strange beauty products,” Celeste continued, collapsing in her chair. “The blush and foundation were fine, the applicators were the weird things. I feel like I’ll be getting glitter off my face for a week.”

“You used to wear that a lot more a year ago,” Zoey replied, “It’ll be nostalgic.”

“Ugh, maybe. I don’t think it was ever this thick, though.”

“Here,” said Zoey, laying out the food. It wasn’t anything special, just warmed SynthMeat, but the plates did make it look more appealing. There were cartoon bats on them, a Halloween set that’d found its way into a thrift store and then into Celeste’s hands. “I think you look hot in anything, even too thick glitter.”

“You won’t be saying that when you’re washing it out of your hair for a week.” Celeste pointed at her threateningly. “I know I’ll be finding flecks of it up until July.”

“Well, we can get a start on that,” Zoey said, leaning in for a kiss.

Celeste’s hand slid across Zoey’s cheek and she leaned in, pressing her lips against Zoey’s own.

“Well,” Celeste said, smirking. “If you want to come help take this off…”

Zoey stood, idly thinking about how nice it would be to follow Celeste into their bedroom. She then shook herself. “Eating first.” She sat at her place, shoving some flesh down so fast she barely tasted it.

“And then?” Celeste took a bite, smiling.

“And then we can finally have some fun today.”