The Tall and Short Problems of a Cute Gamer Girl
[12]
For the Alt Branch [12A]
TWELVE WEEKS LATER
Giselle popped her ears when she woke up. She was still achy from last night. Rolling gingerly to her right, she wrapped her arms around Finn. The pace of his breaths picked up and sounded like he was on the cusp of waking. She gently spooned him and breathed in his overnight aroma. He could definitely use a morning shower but beneath that rough edge were the percolations of his presence.
Jeremy thought that Rachel always smelled nice no matter how much she flailed and lamented that she was sweaty and gross. And Giselle‘s mind arrived at about the same place as Finn. It took her a couple days to actually recognize the aroma. She got her best whiff of it when tossing Finn’s clothes in the wash. The scent plagued her for a while.
It wasn’t simply dried sweat or anything foul. Rather, it was increasingly alluring in a potent and memorable way. Almost as though this was something she didn’t have the apparatus to sense before but now it was obvious. She never considered how much aromas played into things.
Finn recalled that and underwent a similar switch. Giselle had a presence and a fragrant aura, as he characterized it. He noted, however, that the sight and touch of Giselle had more weight than how she smelled. She teased him for this by flaunting the sight and presence of her cleavage around the house and against his back. He retaliated with tickles and making Giselle go all smushy like a marshmallow with kisses on her neck.
The paradigm shift of being the wife started out with playful joking a few days afterward.
“Hello, husband. Hey, honey bun…” It started silly, but as the days progressed she actually slid into the words and notions legitimately. This was her husband, Finn. She was his wife, Giselle. Granted they could each slip away for an hour of being Jeremy and Rachel whenever Finn wanted and whenever Giselle whipped out the FUD they bought instead of trying to precisely straddle the bowl, since she nearly smacked her head on the tank once.
Over time, she noticed that the provisional hour slowly expanded from a rigid sixty minutes to often somewhere between eighty and ninety. It never correlated to anything she or Finn did though, so they just accepted it as a random bonus and mentally prepared themselves for reversion at any time.
Eventually, Giselle’s warm breath on Finn’s neck roused him. He turned and wrapped around her gently. It was tough for Giselle to come to terms with the fact that she had a certain, delicate aspect now. She was significantly weaker than Finn or Jeremy before. Even the temporary Jeremy was not able to match what original Jeremy could do. Not that the gap was expansive.
But she was a girl and Finn started treating her more like a girl a few days in. It wasn’t a big difference in manner, rather little things all adding up. Finn guided her by the arm and led the way, instead of Giselle. How she was seen in public was even crazier. Making sure she headed to an appropriate bathroom (whether gender neutral or women’s), took a decent amount of trial and error but started to settle in around the two-week mark.
The physical aspects of being Giselle settled into a kind of routine. Wearing a bra just became like any sort of garment, but she still had fun messing around with how they looked. That settling of personal ownership, with something she did her best not to dwell upon. This was just being human.
She still felt frustrated with the toilet situation, even though Finn mercifully and diligently remembered to put the seat down. The emergence of an achy UTI for no reason she could comprehend had her inhaling cranberry juice for weeks. When it came time to deal with her assigned gynecologist, Giselle appreciated their warmth as a doctor and did her best not to leave her confused about how a woman this old knew so little about her body.
Implanted birth control was absolutely out of the question due to the fear of where the toilet seat would stick it during Jeremy time. Same with other internal matters. She knew the immensely inappropriate joke about the plane with the automatic tampon remover from his great grandfather, who was the original entertainer and joker in the family. She didn’t want any of that up there when it was appropriate, let alone when it wasn’t. But it had to be done and she tolerated getting a handle on it all.
In many ways, it felt much like her stomach, body, and other health issues which would slam Jeremy on the most random days. Only, this set arrived and lingered like clockwork. Slowly, but unyieldingly, her body pounded in the notion of being a woman. She expected that some part of her would rebel and fly in the face of this sex and role, but Jeremy was never the sort to really rock the boat. If she was to be a woman for an extended basis, then she would do her best with that situation.
The grueling part of the last few months though was when they found out they had to move because of a restructuring of the rental agency. They were not interested in extending them another year on the contract at a similar rate. Just because Finn was a million-subscriber YouTuber and Giselle made out pretty well for herself didn’t mean they were fine throwing money away. Part of their long-term plan was to move away from the coast but remain in the area.
So many of their friends lived slightly north, especially the brand new geek girlfriends that Giselle was getting used to: Eliza, Gwen, and Felicity from college. Gwen had all the bawdy jokes and knew programming along with video editing and was a huge help in Giselle‘s stop motion work. Felicity was quiet but cordial in all things, a huge fan of converting toy models like old cars into Mad Max-like roadsters. Eliza was an unimaginably huge Cubs fan who spoke at length about sports rules and managed to get a minor acting and producing part in a Netflix series while living out in California before moving back to her native Mississippi till recently. She currently split time between programming gigs and voice acting. She and her husband, Nathan, who should’ve been one of Jeremy‘s roommates, were also moving north.
The place that Giselle and Finn settled on wasn’t their absolute ideal. It had two stories again and most of it was on the top. A loft area again seemed ideal for their streams. They split an office next to the laundry room upstairs for the business side. The downstairs without any windows became the main game storage room. And a bunch of other things were still in flux. The process of moving consumed about two months of their lives and felt even longer.
Stolen story; please report.
Tycho took the move the hardest with nervous suspicion and a continually upset stomach. He hadn’t bothered to play since they moved but was slowly returning to comfort. Herschel barely even seemed to notice they had moved aside from the exhausting five-hour drive. Enough of their stuff smelled familiar that he soon relaxed. The distance from her parents weighed on her and made her gently squeeze half-awake Finn to make sure he was still there. Innately, she recognized that everyone in her hometown was still close enough to see during a day trip and for special occasions. But this additional change on top of so many others still exhausted her.
The worst moment came a couple weeks ago when her maternal grandmother stopped by for a rare visit. She hated that Jeremy couldn’t greet her. She did her best to be interested in the recipes and clothes that her grandmother had to share. This version of her was all about costumes and pretty outfits but she just couldn’t get herself to accept it. At a point in the evening, all the walls she kept in place to make sure things continued smoothly broke down. Her eyes wouldn’t stop filling with tears, and she couldn’t stifle her whimpers.
Everyone comforted her kindly and wanted to help. Giselle shuffled all that off as being anxious about being so far from everyone and the exhaustion of moving and not quite feeling like she was doing everything she wanted. Her parents and grandmother didn’t bring up the subject that emerged in passing a few weeks ago between Finn and her.
Rachel couldn’t have children, even before her life-altering surgery to remove several crippled and pre-cancerous organs. Unfortunately, that removal remained equivalently for Finn. It was like a vasectomy when everything was working right. They still didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant but the question of it floated into their thoughts. On some level, Giselle understood it was all just hormones and biology trying to beat her over the head. But they talked about it.
Giselle wasn’t averse to the idea of being a mother. She always figured she would be a kickass dad if their feelings as a couple were different. She was just terrified of losing anyone from her family because of the screwed-up chaos that had entangled them just because Rachel bought a silly seat. They got back Tycho but the prospect of losing him again whittled away her mental resolve.
“Morning. What’s up? Happy Friday, wife. You cutie."
Giselle smirked and giggled in ways that just playfully emerged as Finn kissed her and she fervently kissed him back.
“Glad to see you up, husband. My sexy man. Wanna play some DDR?”
Despite the shuffle of life and everything, they managed to drive down to Ethan‘s place and pick up the classic DDR mat. The little slice of arcade life occupied the corner by the blacked-out window with an inset monitor. They teased each other with Finn counting jiggles per minute on Giselle and Giselle countering by counting his “boxer flops”.
The night that they finally, technically had sex wasn’t too far removed from getting Finn checked out. Plenty of toys and tools, which the cats, unfortunately, took a great amount of pawing interest in, helped things along the way. Giselle was getting plenty used to the female orgasm and becoming a connoisseur of different varieties. When it all finally came together for them, the uniqueness melted her brain and stirred her hunger.
On a physical level, she could see it as smashing around the parts of some alien predator creature but that came from her film side. Psychologically, she was surprised how quickly the idea of penetration didn’t bother her. That wasn’t what pushed her into thinking as a woman, but it was definitely a potent experience.
They didn’t take their early canoodling to the next level of competition as Finn announced he was going to shower first. Giselle agreed to start breakfast for him. So far as nicknames, they still sometimes slipped into “Jere” and “Chel”. Finn didn’t need any abbreviation, although they did joke one evening about calling him F or the Prince Symbol. For Giselle, “Zell” sort of slipped in the place even though they couldn’t decide on one L or two. Also using the Z instead of the S so that it didn’t sound like they were calling her Sel (although that kindled cosplay thoughts in her Dragon Ball Z loving brain) was still a matter of debate.
While Finn washed up, Giselle stretched, started the coffee pot, and began on the machine. She bopped along to the music, and it wasn’t long before Finn emerged with a towel around him. Giselle pondered whether to take a tub bath. When they got this place, Finn delighted and lamented about the tub. He would just barely cozy up as Rachel with an hour-long soak uninterrupted.
Finn urged her to take a bath vicariously for her but, even as a woman, Giselle didn’t really feel the need. He liked sitting for a little while in water. When they took a trip to Japan, he contorted himself into small places to enjoy it. But it just seemed wasteful. The rushing of the water from the showerhead as she rinsed and cleaned seemed superior. She figured it was a girly thing that she still wasn’t up for.
After showering, Giselle wrapped up and settled over by the toilet to consider whether she wanted an hour or not. Lifting the seat to prepare brought a strange electrical arc that almost caught her fingers. She gasped and turned to run. No way did she want to get zapped by another thing that could ruin her world.
Before she could even turn though, a mass of static and ozone breached the air and tumbled towards her. Picking herself up and trying to cover up with the towel, Giselle saw a small figure standing in front of her.
It was wrapped up in a white toga-like outfit with translucent sections, as though bundled in a wad of toilet paper. White hair tumbled in full curling patches from its head. It looked like a girl. A young girl. Her face and features were vaguely reminiscent of Giselle’s.
If she had to guess, she appeared no more than six. The first thing she did, oddly enough, was roll her eyes. Then she did it again, her head turning slightly until she suddenly froze.
“It’s here. The one like you, who is not you. The one who walks through walls and snatches us into the forever cold and forever dark. Please help me…please please…”