a/n: holy crap its been like a year maybe more but i'm gonna try to keep updating this like. once a month. i think. anyways enjoy the show!!! also i'm in love with semi-colon's so call me Sheridan Le Fanu ig you can't stop me. (and yes, i shamelessly did not change anything between this and the ao3 version sue me)
In all of Donkey's 20-something years of living, he had seen a lot.
He had seen friends come and go, parents look down with disapproving eyes; he had weathered storms none should have to weather.
Yet, nothing had prepared him for that day he had come home, only to see that bright white paper gazing right back at him from his front door. "Evicted" glared at him in bright red Times New Roman font from his bedroom wall because his stupid roommates couldn't even have the balls to say it to his face. Years and years of saving money throughout university; years and years of struggle to get where he was today, thrown out the window because of a stupid few unpaid bills and a few gossipy roommates who couldn't keep their mouths shut about a certain piñata around the landlord (who insisted on being called "lord" like honest to god dude just let it go).
"Too loud," they said. "Won't shut up about the United Fruit Company's famous Banana Massacre," they said.
That's fine. It's fine. Donkey was used to this; it was just so typical of his life to go awry the second anything seemed to be going right. He was always the loud friend, the funny friend, but that's a lot for a young child to deal with. From a young age he learned to hide everything about himself that could ever be a cry for help, anything that could be cause for concern. Parents don't love you? Smile through it. Struggling with school? Smile through it. Hate being the closeted queer kid in school? Smile. Through. It. Thousands, if not millions, of kids went through the same things he went through in high school, so why should he get to make a big stink about it? He was Donkey, and Donkey smiled through it, because if he didn't, all he would do is make an ass of himself.
And then he met this man, or rather, his saving grace, and oh boy oh boy was he ready to fall head over heels...
...into his couch. Because he needed a home. And the guy had one. Which pretty much brought him back to his current predicament.
"Get out of my swamp," he grumbled.
"Your swamp? I still don't get why you call it that! You know, Oprah calls her house The Promised Land? I feel like that would be so much more epic. 'The Promised Land of'...hey what's your name again?"
The man stared, gaping, wondering where this weird little 160cm tall man could get the audacity to walk into his apartment without ever learning his name. "It's Shrek," he said, trying to remember where he moved his baseball bat to on one of those lonely, whisky-drunk nights.
"Shrekkkkkkk, that's such an...interesting name!" said the man named Donkey, "if you could change your name to anything in the world what would you change it to? Personally, I feel like I would make a good Michel, you know, with the fancy French pronunciation. Like that one guy from Gilmore Girls! Oh my god how I love those early 2000s girl TV shows-not that a show can be for just girls-you know, smash the cistem and everything but like those shows that have 'Girl' in the title, Gossip Girl, Gilmore Girls, Golden Girls but that doesn't really count because you know that wasn't really from the 2000s and honestly I wasn't that invested when I watched it I thought that-"
"Enough talking. Get out of my swamp," Shrek seethed. Ears turned red, that blood vessel pulsed in his forehead, pupils dilated, and all signs pointed towards anger. But what would a classic protagonist be if not oblivious to the emotions of those around them?
YOU ARE READING
You Make My Freak Flag Wave
RomantizmI have not written anything in about two years so let's see how this goes down. 𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏𓆏 It had been a long time since Donkey had someone to call a friend, much less a roommate. So yes, maybe this friend acts like he hates him. And yes, maybe hi...
