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kodzukenscorner · 4 years

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Sakusa falling in love with a robot?

anon asked: can i request hc/scenario? there was this kdrama where the main guy is allergic to human interaction, turns red if he does and takes medication to stop it.one day he buys an android,but got broken so the creator had to ask an actual human being to act as a robot then they touched except he didn't become allergic bc his illness is psychological then he falls inlove w it thinking it is just an android, with sakusa,how would he found out and react?srry if this is too detailed, ignore this if so 💕

a/n: whew ok anon i had not heard of this drama before so you can BET i googled it and watched a couple of scenes from it and wow this is so cute and sakusa is such a good fit for this

wc: 1,361

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People are gross, they are disgusting and do not understand personal hygiene. Sakusa is fully aware of this fact and does everything he can to avoid human contact. He may be a volleyball player but he specifically picked the sport because there is little to no human contact. Only one person touches the ball at a time and he is more than happy with that. His teammates and fans have learned to keep their distance from him, unfortunately they learned the hard way.

At one of the MSBY fanmeets, a young boy was so excited to meet one of his favorite outside hitters that when he walked up to Sakusa’s intimidatingly large frame, he latched on to one of his legs. Before any of the other Jackals could pry this kid off Sakusa had already started to feel lightheaded. He wandered off somewhere to be alone, his worried teammates trailing behind, watching helplessly as their friend turned a ghastly red and struggled to breathe properly. Thankfully he was able to recover without requiring a trip to a hospital but he skipped out on the rest of the fanmeet. This didn’t go unnoticed by the fans and reporters and word quickly spread about Sakusa Kiyoomi, the athlete who loathed human touch.

Sakusa really didn’t mind it, that just meant that people kept their distance and life actually got easier for him. But, the popular athlete quickly caught the attention of an up and coming tech company that wanted to test out their new life-like android. Sakusa never really figured out why they wanted him to try out their prototype, maybe they pitied him, or maybe they just wanted the endorsement of someone who was notorious for disliking people. Either way he said yes.

Why did he say yes? Deep down Sakusa knew that the pit of loneliness in his stomach was slowly eating away at him and he longed for someone, anyone, to help him break through it, but he’d never admit that, not even to himself.

The tech company was elated and quickly got to work on preparing their new android for delivery until some dumb intern spilled water on it while he was adjusting the hard drive. So now everyone is freaking out because this android is supposed to be delivered today but they need at least a week to replace the hard drive. What else could they do except call up the person the android is modeled after and basically beg you to pretend to be a robot to hang out with some volleyball player for a week. They were offering you a lot of money and if all you had to do was keep some guy company, it couldn’t hurt right? And it’s not like this guy can’t be around people, he just doesn’t like them. Right?

This is genuinely one of the most ridiculous situations you’ve ever been put in, you’re being escorted into some strangers house and he thinks you’re a robot. The android is supposed to be just like a human so at least you don’t have to worry about acting like a robot. When the two of you are finally left alone, you’re just standing in the middle of his apartment unsure of what to do. He’s staring you up and down, hands in the pocket of his jacket, face mask covering most of his face. From what you can tell, he’s fairly handsome and definitely tall and muscular. He catches you checking him out and raises an eyebrow.

“I guess even robots have feelings huh?”

You let that comment go, figuring you would think something similar if you had been presented with an oddly life-like robot. Most of the first day went by with little interaction between the two of you. You sat in his living room, attempting to make conversation with him every now and again, his responses were short and curt but he stayed near you most of the day. It felt like he wanted to talk more with you but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. You made do with simple questions about himself, trying to get to know him better. He obliged you with some light small talk and you actually felt like you were making some headway with him. You learned some of his likes and dislikes and to no one’s surprise, found out he’s very particular about his personal hygiene.

The second day was a welcome change, it almost felt like he was a new person. The first day he was obviously keeping his distance, sitting on the couch opposite yours, face mask still on. Today you were surprised when he sat right next to you on the couch and more importantly he wasn’t wearing a face mask today. He turned his head towards you to ask you a question and oh shit he’s hot, how is he so pretty up close? Holy shit. Oh and his lips are moving, oh wait is he saying something? Oh god he just asked you a question and you were too busy drooling over him to hear it. Oh no, he’s staring, what should you say?

“What?”

Sakusa stared at you quizzically, eyeing you closely. How the hell can he look so attractive even when he’s suspicious?

“I asked if your skin felt real”

And now he spoke and suddenly his voice was sending shivers down your spine.

“You can feel it if you like” You held your palm out to him with this new found confidence and he faltered for a second before he gently took your hand in his.

His hands were rough and calloused but his touch was so tender, like you would break if he squeezed too hard. He caressed your palm with his thumb, eyes trained on your hand.

“Soft...” He mumbled under his breath.

He looked up to your face and made eye contact with you again. You froze and you’re positive he felt your hand tense up in his. Why did he have this effect on you? It’s like you’d never met a handsome guy before, well maybe not someone as good looking as him cause come on now.

While you were busy ogling, Sakusa had lifted his free hand to stroke your cheek. Your breathing hitched and if Sakusa hadn’t noticed how you tensed up before he certainly noticed now.

He could tell, he knew. No matter how life-like a robot could be, there was no way it could mimic human reactions this well. You had to be a real person but he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you. How long had it been since he last had human contact like this? And your skin was so soft, it was addicting. And your lips, why were they so plump? Wait, is he touching your lips now? Yeah he definitely is.

Sakusa ghosted a thumb over your lips, his intense gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips. His fingers travelled down to your chin where he lightly gripped your face and brought you closer. Before you could regain whatever composure you had before, his lips were on yours. He was hesitant though, you could tell he wasn’t used to this and something inside of you encouraged you to take the lead. You brought one hand to grip his collar and the other in his hair, which was incredibly soft and silky by the way. You guided his lips against yours, he groaned against your mouth when you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

You wanted more, so much more and you found yourself kissing him more desperately. It was getting sloppy but Sakusa just grabbed your thighs and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, your hands getting lost in his dark curls. You never wanted to stop, he was intoxicating but you needed to catch your breath before you passed out so you reluctantly pulled away. You were both panting softly, eyes locked onto each other. Sakusa spoke up first.

“You’re not a robot are you?”

You shook your head. “No”

“Good” Sakusa grabbed the back of your head and crashed your lips back onto his.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu writing #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you

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hatboyproject · 3 years

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Synth Anthropomorphisation

I've been generating audio all day for this romance scene script & Jeff's synth is behaving unusually well for his lines, so far. Suspiciously well. Sometimes, I swear it's as if he has a mind of his own & today, he just decided to cooperate with me for some reason.

Sometimes, I have to fight with him to get a decent read out of a line. At his worst, I have to sit there for upwards of an hour, tweaking the same three or four seconds' worth of speech, trying to coax him to read it with the inflection that I need. Sometimes I have to adjust the script's wording to make him "like it" better, or splice together multiple takes to get a word said in the way I like. Occasionally, I have to do even further pitch correction post-generation, and even after all that, I can still end up with a line read that I know isn't working all that well. It can sometimes be a really, really, really mentally draining task. I swear he's more temperamental on some days than others. On different days, I've generated the same line and got a slightly different read.

But today, he seems to like me, a little bit. I'm most of the way through the script now, and I've had to do relatively few corrections on most of them. In fact, he's come out with a few pretty acceptable reads with no corrections at all, and I've just tweaked them as if giving a director's suggestion rather than pushing an instrument around.

I'm aware that I sound like a raving lunatic at the moment and if the weather's decent tomorrow, I swear I'll go outside and touch some grass, but it's hard sometimes not to feel like the goddamned machine hasn't only learned how to enunciate speech like this actor, but has also learned me.

Of course, the logical explanation is that I'm just better at using it and predicting what words he has trouble with, but sometimes, I swear.

Now, FemShep, on the other hand... She's a tricky beast. She likes to get one half of a two sentence line absolutely perfect and crystalline, complete with little breathy flairs and smooth tonal transitions, and then mumble the other half like some kind of stumbling drunk. For almost every FemShep line with more than one sentence, no matter how short, I have to split the lines into multiple takes. The problem is that to keep tone and pitch natural, it's best to include as much of the whole phrase as possible so that it flows. But no, not on Shepard's watch. She loves nothing more than to make me chop everything she says up and stick it together. I swear.

Synth Personalities, as I Understand Them:

Jeff is ornery, but is essentially committed, and if you catch him at the right time, almost affectionate in his willingness to cooperate. Despite sounding dry by default most of the time, it's easy to direct him towards sounding surprisingly tender. Needs larger words spelled phonetically. He is a pilot who can't say the word "fly" without creative assistance and refuses to say his own surname under any circumstances whatsoever. Extremely responsive to punctuation and will alter his reads accordingly.

Shepard is a highly skilled loose cannon that does whatever the hell she wants on her own terms, and occasionally it's miraculous, but it's also always confusing. Can't pronounce "evacuate," no matter how you break it down phonetically. She likes it when you draw out her R, S and H sounds, particularly at the ends of words so she can do this breathy thing. I don't know, but it works. Doesn't give a damn about punctuation unless it's commas or full stops, and even then, only if she feels like it.

EDI does pretty much anything you ask of her, flawlessly, the first time. Any corrections are minimal, and she can handle multiple sentences without sounding awkward. She can handle complicated words like "xenopsychology" with minimal assistance. Always pronounces "Shepard" with good inflection wherever it is in the sentence. Naturally produces deadpan lines with perfect comedic timing. What the fuck.

Garrus is a rambling speaker and is very accepting of unusual words, such as people's names. He takes direction well for the most part, and is excellent when it comes to split clauses. His tone is easy to moderate, but has trouble not joining separate sentences together too quickly. Always needs the "y" in "you" to be lengthened. Easily sounds affectionate or dictatorial. Can even be made to sound as though he is smiling when speaking. Often needs vowels shortening on the ends of words or he will draw them out unreasonably until they disintegrate into nonsense.

Kaidan has perfect tonal variation and terrible artefacting. He sounds like he's reading you the most beautiful, heartfelt thing you're ever gonna hear... From five thousand light-years away on a bad transceiver. He does his best, and his best is surprisingly good at core, but he is tragically limited in overall clarity by quality problems. It's a snap to make him sound caring and romantic, but again... Get a better phone. Usually says "Shepard" too enthusiastically and has to have the letters pitch-altered to fit the rest of the sentence.

Thane sounds confused a lot. Often sounds like he isn't sure about what he's saying, his tone on un-adjusted sentences is usually slightly absent sounding in a way that's difficult to describe. Surprisingly versatile where it comes to trying to copy the weird "Baby Siha" meme. If you don't know what that is, go ahead and look it up, but only if there's a shower nearby, because hearing it will make you feel slimy and uncomfortable in ways you didn't think was possible. Chuckles pretty convincingly.

Male Shepard wants to know what's going on, but first, he will try to explain what's going on as best he understands it being under the effects of god knows what. He often sounds declarative, but in that drunken frat boy kind of way that makes you want to back away slowly and not make eye contact. If he feels like saying your line, though, he'll do it with an impressive capability for mimicking Meer's sometimes unusual style of delivery.

Can't wait to test Jack and Miranda. I bet Jack can swear with incredibly life-like inflection.

#hatboyproject #shoker mod #jeff joker moreau #mass effect #xVASynth #mass effect modding

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ivystjamess · 3 years

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WHEN IVY RECEIVED THE EMAIL that the spring show would be spring awakening, her gut told her ‘i can’t do this show.’ eventually, her brain kicked in and told her that was a stupid thought, and she settled on the idea of playing martha. she had a couple of great moments and an emotional story ivy knew she could pull off. additionally, martha’s story was one she could portray without risking her own emotional well being. . .like she might with lead roles such as wendla. as far as ivy was concerned, it was a pretty great plan! that was until she called to share it with her dad. first, he laughed. then, when jesse st.james realized his youngest co-production was being serious, he had no hesitations reminding her just what her last name was. jesse dismissed ivy’s fabricated excuse of girls like molly pearce, margot stanley, or kenna giardi going for the lead and assured her that going for wendla was the right choice. or the only one. between the sting of disappointing her parents or directly causing herself distress, in a heartbeat, ivy would take the latter. so it was settled. come wednesday, ivy would walk into the tibideaux theater, chin held high, resume in hand, and eye on the prize that was wendla bergmann.

auditioning, to ivy, was a science that began long before stepping on stage in front of a director. step one was research of the show and material selection. and step two was rehearsal. typically, ivy would tirelessly run through her song and monologue with her parents or friends, but considering her parents were busy in new york with hello dolly! rehearsals and most of her relationships were currently on the rocks, it looked a little different for this show. this go around, she opted to recording herself on her phone and picking apart her performance, facetiming her parents when they had a free moment to give limited feedback, and insisting eli give harsher criticisms after running her audition materials for her. despite these hurdles, ivy arrived at her audition wednesday feeling comfortable and confident with her selections.

step three was focus. although waiting room etiquette was often debated, ivy didn’t bother chatting with the other auditioners like many advised one should do. she needed to keep a level head and maintain her precision before stepping into the “arena.” in fact, the entire day leading up to an audition or big performances, ivy rested her voice and hydrated to the extreme. today was no exception. she only broke that rule for vocal adrenaline rehearsal, which she had just left, and to do some vocal warm ups in the car before entering the building. by now, the regular circuit of auditioners knew not to bug ivy as she sat quietly in her chair, drank lots of water, and reviewed her song and monologue in her head. book open in her lap, ivy ran her finger over a line in hopelessly devoted to you (just in case she was asked to sing it) when the audition facilitator called her name. with a deep breath out, ivy rose to her feet, rolled her shoulders back, clutched her black binder to her chest, and entered through the doors.

this was step four. the moment she stepped inside, she flashed a bright smile in bryan ryan’s direction as she made her way to the stage. “good evening.” she greeted, pausing only when she reached him to pull out her resume and headshot to give him. it was an entirely unnecessary precaution, but one that ivy always practiced. it was only professional! what wasn’t professional though, was bryan ryan musing about how she had been a joy to work with during into the woods as she walked down the rest of the ramp, and up the steps to the stage. sure, ivy loved the compliment, but did mr.ryan have no tact? still, she thanked him with another picture perfect smile and began her slate.

“hello, i’m ivy st.james, and today i will be performing say the word by kerrigan and lowdermilk, from their groundbreaking first album, our first mistake.” it had been an easy choice once ivy had dug it out from her mom’s sheet music collection in the basement. the song musically sounded enough like some of the softer moments in the show, but lyrically it was easy to envision wendla singing about melchior, how much he taught her, how she thought of him, and how deep her love truly was. there was a lingering queasiness ivy had when thinking about stepping into wendla’s shoes like that, but there was definitely a couple of boys she could think of who had taught her a couple of things.

carrying on with her slate, ivy announced, “i will also be performing juliet’s monologue from act two, scene two. written by william shakespeare.” a charming smile, and then, “obviously.” of course ivy knew shakespearean monologues were often hit or miss, but she had a decent grasp on the material, and while the spring awakening musical was rather progressive, it’s time period was not. if all went as planned (which it should) it would showcase her ability to convey one of the most tragic love stories of all time, and wendla shared a love with melchior that was nothing if not tragic.

as she moved to the final portion of her slate, ivy faltered as a rare pit of nerves pooled in her stomach. was she suddenly agitated at the notion of solidifying her grab for wendla or was it the idea of embodying her for the course of her actual audition that left her thrown off? nevertheless, ivy was quick to shake away the feeling and conclude her slate, “i would like to be placed in any role, but i would love it for you to consider me as wendla. thank you.” and with that, she was moving to provide sheet music for the accompaniment while bryan ryan looked over her audition information. now onto what she had been brought up to do: perform.

reaching center stage, ivy looked over to the accompaniment and nodded when she was ready. as soon as the instrumentals began, the lights around her dimmed to dark, leaving her standing in a single spotlight with her feet solidly planted and a series of emotions playing across her face: gratitude, longing, love, and loss.

“sometimes when i look at you, i don't know why you’d wait. school girl in a little world, who learns everything late.”

ivy sang gently, not daring to move her feet a single step. this song would be one where she communicated feelings through her face, vocals, and sparing hand gestures. it wasn’t hidden that ivy could thrash around outrageously like some numbers in the show required, but this song wasn’t a moment like that. it was tender, soul baring, and not to be overdone. hands now rested delicately over her chest, the next lyrics slipped off her tongue in a soft stream that floated down to mr.ryan’s ears and hopefully tickled whatever he was looking for in a wendla. “i turn the light out under the covers all I think of is you. just you.”

“say the word and i just might listen. say the word, and you might get your way. loving you should be easier, but say the word, and i might have to stay.”

at the chorus, ivy revealed the faintest of smiles and continued singing with her heart as she tilted her head sideways up towards the spotlight, acting as if it’s beam were the sunny warmth of love. fully in her zone now, fleeting thoughts of the boys she’d loved raced through her mind and added a realistic quality to her performance before she reached the second verse and snapped her eyes open for the first time since she began. making eye contact with the “audience” from the second verse onward, ivy became more generous with belting and vocal runs as she tried to capture the essence of the doe eyed and naive wendla bergmann. there weren’t many roles ivy couldn’t pull off, but it was relatively easy to get in touch with this one. after all, at one point she’d been a similar type of girl as wendla.

reflecting on that time built a tightness in her chest, but only fueled her performance to be all the more powerful. was she stronger with or without that part of her in tact? as she sang, she seemed to be trying to find the answer to that question. ivy came up empty handed, emotionally and physically. all she had now was a regionals trophy and a laundry list of things that made her sad. but what was it that she really wanted? if ivy really thought about it, it was simple...

“i want to be the girl there by your side. just tell me when, just tell me how. tell me i’m ready now. today. say…”

by the emotional climax of the song, ivy was still center stage as she belted out with everything she had. with outstretched arms and tears rolling down her cheek, she utilized her vibrato and used her voice to try and push all the non-character related feelings she was currently having from her mind. it wasn’t exactly successful in the way she wanted it to be, but it certainly enhanced her performance. reaching the final set of lyrics, ivy skillfully pulled all of that energy back in and slowly brought her arms in with it as she concluded on stay.

ivy gave bryan ryan a moment to sit with the song before transitioning into her monologue. following say the word, ivy felt like she had emotional whiplash, but also, an odd sense of clarity. shortly after, she made it through the monologue as juliet with expert delivery and all the necessary elements to make it relatable to her desired role. and if anything, it was easier for ivy to get through. she was able to have fun with it. not often was it that one got to revisit a role they played in middle school!

truth be told, when all was concluded, ivy might have turned to mr.ryan with that same rehearsed smile, but she was ready to get off stage and breathe after that taxing performance. it left her a lot to sit with. fortunately, he dismissed her with an excellent job and a you’ll hear back by friday. so again, ivy thanked him, grabbed her book from the accompanist and hurried out so the next individual could head in.

now came step five, the waiting.

THE END.

#crhq:spring #mentions: molly #mentions: margot #mentions: kenna #//sorry for the background noise #//and sorry for the length!!#tldr: ivy wants wendla. she sang say the word + did a monologue from romeo and juliet while going on a bit of an emotional journey

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ymiwritesstuff · 4 years

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Return

Oki once again I suddenly got an idea that I wanted to post asap so apologies if this feels idk rushed? But anyways I hope you enjoy!

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 7: Steel Ball Run

Gyro Zeppeli x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ever since Gyro sailed all the way to America in order to take part in the Steel Ball Run race, you had been eagerly waiting for his return.

Notes: Angst, SPOILERS FOR PART 7

Gyro’s emerald green eyes lit up and his lips curl into a wide grin that shows his golden teeth when his gaze falls on the envelope in his hands. With an excited chuckle his drops everything he was just about to do and sits down on his sleeping bag. Johnny glances at his friend a smile of his own apparent on his features as he has a pretty good guess about the contents of that envelope.

“Another one?” The blond asks, laying on his sleeping bag with his head leaning against his hand. The scene before him was nothing new as Gyro had received letters like this one many times in the past and judging by the Italian’s expression, he had been waiting a long time for this one.

“Yep.” He says as he opens the envelope, carefully enough so he doesn’t tear apart the letter itself, but swiftly so he can begin reading the contents of it. He had been waiting for so long to receive a response to his previous letter and the excitement bubbling inside is so intense it feels like it’s about to burst out. He can’t help it though. This letter had been delivered to him all the way from his home country and once he got the envelope open, Gyro wasted no time in reading it:

Ciao, Handsome!

How’s the race been treating you?

Upon reading the first lines of text Gyro’s smile only grows when he notices the familiar cursive handwriting of his lover he had seen so many times throughout Steel Ball Run. He missed you so much and wished he could see you in person but for now had to rely on this distant form of communication. He didn’t complain, though as frankly any contact with you was enough.

Good, I hope, you know how worried I get. I can’t help it! I love you after all.. When I read your last letter and you wrote about all that crazy shit you’ve been through I.. I couldn’t help but to feel a bit worried. I know what you’re going to say, “I promised to come back after I win this race, cara. And I won’t break that promise”.

He lets out a quiet chuckle upon reading your words. You knew him so well. The letters you sent him made him feel that familiar warmth he felt whenever he had been in your presence before his admittedly painful departure. He remembers you shedding painful tears as you watched his ship slowly move closer to the horizon. As much as he hated seeing you sad, he knew he had to do something in order to save the innocent boy’s life. However he didn’t leave before promising to return home as soon as he grasped victory.

I laughed just now, you know. And it only made me miss your laugh. I miss you so much, Gyro. I think of you every day and I can’t wait for you to come back. Honestly, a part of me wants to hop on a ship and sail to America just so I can see you again. But based on the things you’ve told me.. Perhaps it would be better for me to just stay here and try to wait for you patiently. I just want you to be safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.

Gyro frowns his brows as his eyes scan the text before him, his fingers lightly brushing over it. He had told you about the bizarre events he experienced during the race quite openly, but a part of him wonders if it was alright to bring you so much worry with the dangerous tales. On the other hand, he had promised to always be honest with you and thought it best not to sugarcoat any of the events that occurred. Gyro was sure you respected his honesty, but it still, he couldn’t help but to question it.

But I believe in you. I know you will return with the prize money in your hands and the joy of victory by your side. I will cheer you on, even from the other side of the world. You will prevail, I am certain of it. I just can’t allow myself to forget that so easily. I know it’s dangerous and I know anything could happen, but I have faith in you, Gyro. I love you so much and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. Please, take care of yourself and stay safe. I’ll be waiting for you, Gyro.

Love,

(Name).

Gyro smiles to himself, your letter being able to awaken so many emotions inside of him. At this point they didn’t feel like mere letters anymore. Whenever he read them, he could hear your voice and feel your emotions, which was why he had saved every single letter he had received from you. They were like pieces of a puzzle that would combine into something bigger when all of this was over. They were memories that both of you shared and cherished. With each passing day he would think about you. Your stunning smile, your beautiful (E/C) orbs that put the stars to shame and those soft (H/C) locks he had so often ran his fingers through. He missed having you next to him, but knew that this grueling time away from you would all be worth it, because when he finally returned he’d get to pull you into an embrace he had been yearning for so long.

With a sigh, Gyro folds the letter and immediately begins to write a response on a piece of paper. There was always some delay with the delivery due to the great distance between you two so Gyro made sure to always begin writing as soon as possible. Johnny looks at his friend and smiles to himself. Gyro was often stressed and tense due to everything that had been going on, but would show signs of relief and happiness whenever he wrote his letters or read one of yours. It always managed to put a smile on the blond jockey’s face. Gyro was madly in love with you, and that love would carry him through whatever the race dared to throw at him.

When your hands touch the fresh paper of the envelope, you immediately sit down and begin to open it. It had been a good month of sending letters back and forth just like usual and Gyro was sure that it would all be over soon. Things had gotten quite a bit hectic and to quote the Italian’s own words; “It’s a shitstorm over here, but we’ll get through it.” Reading his letters in which he told you about all that was going on was like reading a story, a very dangerous, bizarre story. But it helped you to feel connected to him in a way, as if you were there with him, experiencing those events.

Upon opening the envelope and unfolding the letter your brows frown at the unusually short length of the content. It was odd considering just how long his previous letters have been and a deep part of you starts feeling something akin to concern. But that feeling quickly fades away when you start reading:

Ciao, beautiful!

Listen, I’m gonna need to keep this one a bit short simply because it won’t be long before you can actually hear my words instead of having to read them. Yep, you read right, cara. Everything is going to be over soon. The President has gotten a bit out of control with the corpse but me and Johnny are gonna take him down! Soon it will all be over and I can finally come home to you and hold you tight.

You smile at the text, relieved to hear that everything was well. Gyro had mentioned the President’s plans and initially it did hit you with a wave of concern and worry but with his letters came a reassuring wave of relief as according to his words, things had been turning for the better.

I know how much you worry, but I assure you, I will kick Valentine’s ass AND win the race so I can happily return home. Return to you. I miss you so much, you don’t even know, but the fact that this won’t last for long keeps me going. You keep me going, (Name). I can’t wait to hold you, kiss you, hug you.. I can’t wait to see you, cara.

Your reading gets interrupted when a single tear you didn’t even notice drops on the paper. The words stick onto you like glue and caused a storm of strong emotions to erupt within you. Dammit, Gyro! How dare he make you cry?! You giggle to yourself and quickly wipe your tears and continue reading:

And perhaps.. We can discuss the future. Because I want it to be with you, (Name). A future with you sounds like heaven and I really hope you feel the same way. Well, we will have time to discuss this when I return. But, feel free to consider it! If you ask me, a little Zeppeli running around would make me the happiest man in the world! But yeah, we’ll have time for that. Take care, my love and until we see each other again,

ti amo.

Gyro

The amount of tears rolling down your cheeks only increases after you finish reading his letter. Those tender, loving words he used were so rare, but they managed to cling to you and you wished nothing more than to feel the man himself next to you. The thought of having a family together with Gyro filled you with so much joy and warmth it felt like torture not having him here to make that dream a reality. Not yet, at least.

Soon, your long wait would be rewarded. Because once this would all be over, you could finally live with the man you loved so dearly. His voice, his eyes oh, how you missed them all and you could hardly wait any longer. Patience was key here. He would return, just as he promised and you’d never have to be without him ever again.

And he did return. But not in the way you were hoping. And when your (E/C) eyes that were filled with joyous tears, meant to express your happiness in finally seeing Gyro after so long land on that wooden box that Johnny was dragging behind him with a dark, sorrow-filled look dulling his blue eyes, those tears froze for a split second, only to be filled with devastation.

He promised. And he didn’t break his promise. But he broke you. Because upon his return, he didn’t hold you, kiss you, hug you, instead, you were met with a lifeless corpse that once belonged to the man you loved. Your entire world crumbled, it felt as if your soul had been dragged out of your body with him. This couldn’t be happening. But the sight before you didn’t lie. And no matter how much you cried, wailed, sobbed or screamed, deep down you knew, Gyro never returned.

And the last memory you had of him, was a letter that painfully reminded you of a dream that never became a reality.

#jjba #jojo #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Steel Ball Run #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #jojo part 7 #gyro zeppeli #jojo gyro #gyro zeppeli x reader #gyro x reader #jojo gyro x reader #reader insert #angst

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marmolady · 5 years

Text

Valentine’s Day (spoiler-free version)

Edited version for the benefit of friend who is dragging his damn heels reading Book 3.

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Predominantly Estela x MC/Taylor (f), but a little bit of Aleister x Grace, Diego x Varyyn, Craig x Zahra, Quinn x Michelle

Summary: Post-ending (Endless ending). Basically fluff. So. Much. Fluff.

Warnings: A little bit of coarse language. And it does get a little bit fruity near the end, but no worse than you’d get in a diamond scene. Do not read if you are allergic to sentimental, sappy crap.

Yawning, Taylor pushed open the door into the Celestial’s kitchen, drawn in by the sweet scents of fresh baking. She’d intended to help Quinn out with the early morning Valentine’s Day preparation but dragging herself out of bed- and away from Estela- had been rather more difficult than anticipated.

Seeing her rumpled hair, Quinn giggled. “Sleep in? …Or something else?”

“You’ve got me! I’m sorry, Quinn, I really was gonna give you a hand…”

“Don’t be silly! I’m doing this for fun, you shouldn’t feel any pressure to help. Besides, you should spend Valentine’s morning snuggling with someone you love. That’s what today is all about, isn’t it?”

Taylor smiled. “You may have a point.”

She approached the tabletop, where Quinn was putting the finishing touches on a wide spread of cupcakes. Delicately decorated in reds and pinks, the cakes were topped with intricate, swirling designs, edible flower petals and sculped hearts.

“Ohmygod-Quinn, these are gorgeous!” Taylor gushed. “What are they, strawberry?”

The slight redhead beamed. “Just the frosting- half are vanilla, half are chocolate. I thought they’d be something everyone can enjoy; not just you lovebirds.” She gave Taylor a wink. “I haven’t finished cleaning out the frosting bowl… you’re welcome to grab a spoon.”

Taylor needed no more encouragement. She vaulted up onto the counter and started digging in. “What about you? Do you have anything planned with someone special today?”

Responding to her friend’s suggestive eyebrow wiggle, Quinn blushed a deep pink which clashed violently with her hair. “Oh, I don’t know… you know Kele and I have been flirting a little while…”

“Babe, you and Kele have been flirting for forever.”

With a giggle, Quinn finished. “All right, for more than a little while. But even though we have our fun, I think it’s just a crush. Nothing serious. Recently… I’ve been having feelings for someone else. Someone who I love very deeply… I just don’t know if that person sees me… that way.”

“Meech?”

The bowl clattered to the floor as Quinn startled. “What? No. No! What would make you think?” she stammered unconvincingly. “It’s not… obvious?”

“Just a guess, that’s all. I mean- how many suspects are there around here? I just noticed you’ve been very close since we realised we’d be here for good. And it’s always been clear she cares about you a whole lot.”

Quinn shook her head as she hastily picked up the frosting bowl. “You won’t say anything, will you? I’ve always tried to live in the moment, to not waste a single day but… she’s still really caught up on Sean. And you know she’s taken all this especially hard. Michelle needs a friend right now, and I want to be that friend. She always took care of me… even when I didn’t want it.”

“You’re a good friend. The sweetest, most generous friend anyone could ask for.” Taylor pulled Quinn into a one-armed hug, getting frosting on her cheek. “My lips are sealed. But if anything happens, you let me know, okay? You know I’m soft for romance. Especially where my La Huerta girls are involved.”

“All right. If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know. I want to do something… just to show I care, but I don’t want to be too… forward? I don’t want her to feel like I’ve ever had an ulterior motive for being her friend.”

Taylor gently scraped off the frosting from Quinn’s cheek. “Well, between you and me, we’ll think of something. But you should know, no one could ever mistake you for someone with ulterior motives. You’re an angel, and you know it!” She licked off her finger and high-fived her buddy.

Together they distributed woven vine baskets of cupcakes to the doors of each of their friends’ rooms. The friends with rooms on the end of the route were left with one or two fewer cakes, but Taylor was sure no one would notice. She picked off all the crumbs from her shirt all the same.

In the quiet of the elevator, she cautiously broached a subject that had been on her mind for a little while. “Hey, we never really spoke about it… back when we first arrived on the island… those times when we kissed. It wasn’t… weird… for you when I got together with Estela?”

Quinn linked her arm through Taylor’s. “No! No, of course not! Those moments we shared, they’re still real, and they were special. You’re special. I’m so grateful to have been close to you so quickly; everything was so much less scary because I had someone I could trust. You saved my life, remember? Obviously, I’ve wondered what might have happened… but you found your person, and I’m so happy for both of you. You and Estela… you fit together.”

“I’m so grateful we were close then too. It was weird, it was like… it was like I’d always known you, even though we’d just met. You’re such a warm, beautiful person; when everyone else was dealing out their crap, being friends with you was just… easy.”

A bright smile lit Quinn’s delicate features. “It means a lot to hear that; thank you. So… what do you have planned for your Valentine?”

“Well, we’re going to the dinner. We don’t dress up very often, so it’ll be kinda nice. We’re gonna go out hiking and take a lunch with us. Estela’s got it all planned out, so I guess I’ll just see where she takes me. And I’ve got a couple of little things lined up. I’m… I’m pretty excited. Hey- I’ve had a brainwave! Why don’t you collect some flowers from the forest for Meech? There were some really sweet-smelling ones near the waterfall.”

“You’re a genius! Michelle would love that; it would be perfect for using in the lotions she’s been making.”

With deliveries finished off, Taylor returned to her room. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, giddy with anticipation for the day ahead. In the short time they’d known one another, she and Estela had been through hell and back… but today there would be none of that. She was ready to love on her wife with every ounce of her being.

“Hey,” Taylor poked her head through the door and glanced around. “I come with cupcakes!”

“Hey,” Estela was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, a book in her lap. Forsaking her usual clothes, she’d dressed herself in Taylor’s crop top and sarong. Her long, dark hair hung loose, her handfasting flower woven in by her ear.

Taylor grinned helplessly as she took in the sight of her wife. “You take my breath away, you know that?”

A deep red blush rose up on Estela’s cheeks, which she well knew was Taylor’s intention. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind… I mean, you practically live in my hoodie these days.”

“No, no… the opposite! It’s kinda cute seeing you in my clothes.”

“I always thought they looked really great on you. I mean, you always look…, but…ah, crap… I…”

Taylor ran forward and put her arms around Estela’s shoulders. “God, I love it when you get all flustered.” She pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Just let me get changed quickly, and then I’m completely, totally yours.”

“Good.”

__________________________________

A lunch packed, along with several cupcakes, the two lovers set off hiking. Their walks always left Taylor with a slight suspicion that the pace was being slowed for her benefit, but today, Estela surged ahead, seemingly on a mission. On and on, at a blistering pace, and uphill over terrain that was thick with rainforest plants, it was a strenuous trek, and there seemed to be no let-up.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Taylor groaned, as Estela effortlessly scaled a lichen-covered rockface. “I don’t know how you do Valentine’s in San Trobida, but I’m pretty sure leading your wife to an embarrassing death is outta line with the usual traditions.”

Estela shook her head, mocking. “I married a wimp.”

Taking the bait, Taylor paused to catch her breath and then retreated to make a run-up. She jumped at the slope, scrambling a little, but pulled herself up into Estela’s arms, pinning her on her back. “You,” she said, triumphant, and she caught her in a fiery kiss, “married a badass, and don’t you forget it.”

Her heart thundering, Estela returned the kiss. She came away just a little, so that Taylor’s sweet, smug face was just a breath from her own. I never want to be without you. Then she felt the questioning gaze on her scar… the one across her eye and down her cheek. Taylor lovingly traced her thumb down the line, following behind the tender stroke with tiny kisses.

“That one I… I don’t like to talk about.” Estela shifted uncomfortably, sitting up, but didn’t break eye contact. “It’s not something I’m keeping from you, it’s just… it happened at a very painful time for me. I don’t want to think about that today. I want to think about you.”

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to…” Taylor stammered, knowing that she’d completely ballsed up the moment, but then realised that an apology was unnecessary. Estela didn’t want an apology, just understanding. “A conversation for another day, yeah? If you’re okay with it, obviously. I don’t wanna bring up stuff that’s gonna hurt you.”

Estela leant forward a little, so her forehead bumped gently against Taylor’s. “I want to share with you. I want you to know everything about me. I… I hope you know that. I’ve never trusted anyone like this; it feels… nice.”

Taylor felt her heart swell. She wasn’t sure she was worthy of the implicit trust she was given, but it meant the world to her, and she’d never, ever break it. “I want that too. There’s not much of me to share- you were there for most of it- but everything I am is yours.”

“Come on, cariña.” Estela swept Taylor onto her feet. “It’s not far now.”

They carried on until the thick foliage finally broke into a clearing. Taylor gasped audibly at the view that opened up before them.

“Holy…” she breathed. “Estela… this is… ohmygod…wow!”

Standing at the edge of a steep valley, the sheer and thundering waterfall across the divide sent a misty spray into the surrounding air, creating rainbows that appear to shimmer in the late morning sun. The ancient Vaanti temples in the valley below were shrouded in mist, broken up by the glowing flowers of the encroaching jungle. The effect was ethereal, and utterly breathtaking.

Estela entwined her fingers with Taylor’s and sat her down with her on the grass. “Worth the hike?”

“A thousand times worth it!” Taylor gushed, and she huddled in against Estela’s side. She looked out, awestruck. “This has gotta be the most beautiful spot on the whole island…”

“Now that you’re here, it’s paradise. Perfect.”

Taylor gave a happy murmur. “The perfect paradise is wherever you are… all this, it’s just the icing on the cake. But it’s beautiful… it’s so, so beautiful. Like you.”

Estela laughed affectionately. “We’re getting heavy on the sappy now…”

“You started it! If I can’t lay on the cheese on Valentine’s Day, what the hell’s the point?”

In the shadow of the towering waterfall, the two lovers shared in a relaxed lunch, drinking beers, laughing together, kissing and cuddling, and watching the sun’s movement across the sky create colourful streaks in the water spray.

Early afternoon saw Taylor massaging a luxurious lotion into Estela’s exposed back as she lay, utterly contented, beneath the sun.

“That feels… so good…”

Taylor leant down to kiss between her wife’s shoulder blades before continuing on, moving down her scarred torso towards her hips. “I hope so; you always feel so tense. I’m gonna make it my personal mission to keep all those knots out of your shoulders.”

“Mmmmm… I wouldn’t mind getting used to this…” Estela sighed happily as she felt all her muscles relax beneath her love’s heavenly touch. Though she imagined she could just go on lapping up Taylor’s attentive pampering for ever, she had her own plans for the day. Reluctantly, she sat up, twisted around to face her.

“Taylor…” She bit her lip, suddenly inexplicably bashful.

“Hmmm...? You don’t have to look so worried; I’m not gonna charge you for the massage.” Taylor giggled and helped Estela back into her top.

“It’s… I, um, had an idea,” Estela avoided eye contact as she spoke. “I thought… I’d like to get a tattoo… your Hadean zodiac symbol,” she tapped over her heart, just beside her breast, “…here.” She looked into Taylor’s face, allowing the warmth and devotion in her gaze to calm her jitters. “I wondered if… if you might…?”

Instinctively, Taylor reached up, touching her fingers to her own chest. A tear welled in her eye, and her face seemed to glow with affection. She slipped Estela’s free hand into her own. “Estela, I…” She shook her head, overwhelmed. “Of course, of course, I…” Her voice caught in her throat, emotion taking over. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I think that’s for me to decide.” Estela gave a happy jiggle and leant forward to kiss Taylor on the nose.

Taylor blanched. It was something she still struggled to get past. If she hadn’t been such a coward, Estela would still have her tio. Even with this path being the one Estela had wanted her to take, it was impossible to shake the guilt of taking away the home and family that her wife had fought for. That Estela wanted to be permanently marked with the one who could have spared her that loss… it was almost unfathomable.

Estela firmly took Taylor’s face in her hands and looked her square in the eye. “Stop that. I know what you’re thinking, but I will tell you you’re wrong until you get it through your head. You. Deserve. To be. Happy. Got it?”

“I’m sorry… it just… creeps up on me sometimes.” Collecting herself, Taylor put her hand to Estela’s chest, feeling her steady heartbeat. Seeing that her wife was still not satisfied, she relented. “Okay, okay, I guess I deserve to be happy. And you deserve to be loved to the stars and back. And I do… love you that much. More.”

“So… do you want to?”

Taylor nodded enthusiastically. “So much. I’m gonna get that dumb coat hanger on my chest. For you.”

“It’s a dragon, idiota!” Estela laughed, giving Taylor a loving shove. “There’s a guy in the Vaanti village down there… he does all of them. Recommended by Varyyn.” She nodded her head to a small string of huts beyond the temple ruins. “Shall we?”

Estela took Taylor’s hand, guiding her down the steep, leafy terrain. “Taylor…” she said, pausing to ease her down a slippery patch. “I love you too. More than I could say. More than I could show you. I just… I hope you know how much.”

Sliding down the slope and into Estela’s arms, Taylor could feel the truth in every word, enveloped by the sincerest love she could imagine. Whether she deserved it or not, being happy seemed pretty damned hard to avoid.

__________________________________

The late afternoon breeze was pleasantly cool. Lying on her back on the pristine sandy beach outside Elyys’tel, Taylor appreciated the refreshment it gave. Going back down Estela’s secret trail had been, if anything, even more strenuous than the path up. The ‘relaxation time’ that followed had been nothing of the sort, involving being poked and prodded with sharp needles for over an hour. The end result, though, the dragon sigil over her heart, was absolutely perfect. Taylor couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at it again, and again, and again, and then smiling until her face hurt.

Estela smiled coyly. “I have something for you. This time it doesn’t involve you getting stabbed repeatedly with needles… or with anything else.” She put the basket in Taylor’s arms. “It’s something for our future. Our life together, our family together… it’s got to start somewhere. And I thought you’d like…”

The lid lifted on the basket, and a small pink cat with blue spots poked her head out. The kitten’s eyes were a blazing yellow, and her ears ended with long tufts of silky fur.

Taylor gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Are you serious? I mean, we’ve really, like… got a cat now?”

“It looks that way. One of Seraxa’s had kittens a little while back. She said this one would like you. I don’t know how she knew that, but I guess she’s the island cat whisperer, so…”

“I’m gonna call her ‘Madam’,” Taylor declared, scooping the small cat into her lap. The kitten purred, and her fur faded into purple. “I mean, look at that snooty face. She knows she’s the shit.”

Estela’s face remained straight, a picture of bemusement. “If that’s the best you can do, there is no way in hell I’m letting you name our children.”

“We’ll see…” Taylor scooted over so that she could snuggle up. She knew exactly what this cat meant; a promise of a future, of years ahead to be spent in love, together. The two of them… and now, the two of them and a colour-changing kitten. “But I absolutely love her. Cats are the best. All reserved and aloof; they make you earn their love, but once you’ve got it, there’s a whole heap of wonderful that no one else is ever fully allowed to see. I love the mystery of them.” She turned her head so that her face was barely an inch from Estela’s. “People like that… I find they tend to be worth the effort.”

“Are we still talking about the cat?”

Taylor cupped Estela’s face and felt a familiar rush of affection as her blue eyes met with her wife’s soft, dark ones. “I think you know…”

The two women lost themselves in a heated kiss, which was cut all too short by the yowling kitten who had latched onto Estela’s hair and was swinging around by her teeth. Taylor collapsed into giggles as she tried to detach the furry menace.

“Aw, Estela, she loves you!”

“I should have got a receipt…”

“No! No take-backs. She’s part of our family now. We’ll train her up right and sic her on our enemies.”

“Taylor, this isn’t T’kaal, this is a lap-warmer.”

“Maybe with that attitude…” Taylor made a show of rolling her eyes. She watched as Estela tickled the fidgeting kitten under her chin, met with face rubs and a cacophony of purrs. It seemed pretty clear to her that the lap-warming menace was a gift for them both. “Welcome to the family, Madam; we love you already.”

Estela sat up, beaming. “I’m so happy you like her.” She took Taylor’s hand in her own, their fingers entwining. “It’s been hard keeping the secret for weeks.”

“Hey,” said Taylor, putting her free hand on Estela’s knee, “I’ve got something for you too.” She reached into her small backpack and brought out a long, wooden box. Estela’s initials were etched in beautiful lettering on the lid.

Taking the box carefully in her hands, Estela quietly ran a finger over the carved top. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been given a gift. Probably, she thought, the last birthday before her mother died. Her tio had shown affection in different ways, marking occasions by setting her new challenges, and, of course, with many drinks. But to receive a present… that was something rare and precious. She popped open the lid, and gazed upon the most exquisite blade she had ever seen. The dagger was short and strong, the blade cut from gleaming mahogany obsidian, the edge painstakingly crafted into serrated points. The handle was both sturdy and ornate, the form of a dragon carved into shining amber and polished bone. Stunned, at a loss for words, Estela could only gape.

“Do you… do you like it?” Taylor ventured, a little nervous. “I really don’t know much about these things. I talked to Varyyn, Seraxa… they said these were their most prized.”

Estela sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Taylor, it’s… it’s…” Giving up on expressing her gratitude verbally, she gestured for her lover to come closer. The second Taylor edged nearer, she wrapped her in a tight hug that carried on until the sun kissed the horizon. Little Mewsli flopped down in the sand beside them, her furry body vibrating with purrs.

“Come on,” said Estela finally, “everyone’s gonna be waiting on us.”

____________________________________

Back in their room in the Celestial, Taylor was reviewing her outfit in the bathroom mirror. The resort’s shop held an array of glamorous outfits, but by now many had already been claimed. She was pleased with her find; a rose red gown, embellished with floral lace on the bodice, giving way to a floaty skirt of the softest organza. With a satisfied twirl, she gave the dress her final approval.

“Taylor?”

“Hmm…?”

“You don’t mind helping me out with the zipper, do you? I swear they design these things with contortionists in mind…”

As Taylor emerged from the bathroom, Estela’s cheeks flushed. “Wow.”

“Wow? What do you mean, ‘wow’? Have you seen you?”

Estela’s blush deepened. She turned her back to Taylor. Gentle fingers lovingly brushed her dark hair out of the way and eased the zip upwards. Each small touch sent a pleasurable jolt of electricity down her spine.

“There you go,” said Taylor quietly. She stepped back to admire her. The charcoal dress shimmered with sequins, perfectly complimenting Estela’s dark, shining eyes. It hugged her figure, embracing every curve, a long slit up the side showing her legs. “Estela, you… you are stunning.”

Self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Estela glowed with happiness. “As are you.”

She suddenly burst out laughing. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a cat hanging off your dress…”

“Wha-? Hey!” Taylor plucking the kitten from the bottom of her skirt. “No more of that, little one. It’s past your bedtime. I reckon if we just leave her with the lights out, she’ll go to sleep. I mean, there’s not too much in here she could make into a toy, right?”

“We’ll find out…”

With a smile, Taylor took Estela’s arm in her own. “Are you ready?”

Estela pecked her cheek. “Ready.” She rubbed the kitten’s chin as Taylor set her down on the bed. “Goodnight, Mierdita…”

“Hey! You don’t get to name my cat- I get to name my cat.”

“You named her ‘Madam’…”

“Well, what does it mean, what you called her?”

“Eh, don’t worry about that.”

__________________________________

The rooftop garden had been decorated for the occasion; glowing flowers hung down all around the candlelit tables that had been brought up from the restaurant. Set against the dark night, the effect was magical. Tender love songs piped out over the speakers just topped off the mood.

“You did all this?” Taylor gasped, suddenly feeling rather guilty for not being more useful. “It’s amazing!”

Raj beamed. “I do it all for the smiles on your faces, dudettes. I hope you’re hungry.”

It wasn’t just the couples who’d turned out for the Valentine’s feast; everyone was already milling around the garden, spirits high.

“Chyeeaah, boi! Taylor’s got ink!” Craig slapped her on the back, almost spilling her drink. He then noticed Estela’s matching tattoo. “Niiiiice.”

Zahra smirked. “They’re better than yours, meathead.”

“Yeah, well they probably weren’t hammered when they got them. Being drunk is all part of the experience!”

Grace bounced over, pulling Aleister behind her. She pulled both Taylor and Estela into a hug. “Oh, you two!” She cried, admiring their tattoos. “That’s so romantic…”

Aleister suddenly appeared very nervous, as if fearful Grace might get an unfortunate idea in her head.

As if to confirm his worries, she started quizzing Taylor and Estela. “So, how much did it hurt?”

“Pfft, it was nothing,” said Estela with a smirk. “But I think Taylor nearly cried. Aleister wouldn’t be able to take it.”

His mouth contorting, Aleister wasn’t sure whether to angrily retort or be grateful for the discouragement. And then Grace gave him a swift kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t underestimate you… and we’ll think of our own special things to do.” She laughed at the astonished look on his face. “You goose!”

A sprawling buffet was laid out, and within seconds, the aroma had brought everyone gathered around. Taylor piled up her plate, rubbing elbows with Michelle, who was dressed up in a shining turquoise gown.

“Taylor- I haven’t seen you all day.”

Taylor grinned. “You know… very busy.” She noticed Michelle’s outfit. “Wow, that looks gorgeous on you!”

A radiant smile lit Michelle’s features. “Thanks… you came up all right yourself.” She placed a hand on Taylor’s arm. “So… how was your first Valentine’s Day as a married woman?”

Automatically, Taylor glanced to the other end of the table, where Estela was caught up in banter with Jake. Her heart beat a little faster. “Is it possible for a day to be perfect?”

“You deserve it; you both do.”

“Aw, Meech! How about you? Has today been okay?” Knowing that it was her first since her traumatic split with Sean, she imagined Valentine’s had not been a totally happy occasion.

Michelle paused, but then nodded. “Honestly? I was dreading it. Being around Sean and…” She sighed. ��Seeing everyone else… happy, in love. But actually, today’s been really special. I spent all afternoon making lotions with Quinn. She found me some flowers to use… the scents are divine. And she’s just been, well, Quinn. I don’t think I could ever meet a kinder, more good-hearted person. For so long I’ve driven people away… but with her I don’t think it would even be possible.” Her gaze wandered up the table, her lips curving upwards once more has her eyes met with the beautiful redhead’s. “I’ve never had friends like you. That kind of love… it’s new to me. I think that’s what I’m celebrating today.”

“I’m really happy to hear that.” Taylor put down her plate and pulled Michelle into a hug. “You deserve it too.”

She made her way towards the table, making a stop to catch up with Diego and Varyyn. “Hey lovebirds! I guess this is another one of our weird holidays crossed off your list, Varyyn- how do you rate it?”

Varyyn looked fondly at Diego. “There is nothing worthier of celebration than love. Diego has been showing me ‘rom coms’. It has been very insightful.”

“Turns out there’s some good ones in the DVD stash… we should double date sometime and all cry over 10 Things I Hate About You together…”

“I’ll have you know that my hard-ass wife does not cry in movies.”

Diego laughed. “What? You know, no one believes that…”

“Ugh, fine, maybe there’s like… four or five that will get the waterworks going, but that’s all I’m saying, and you didn’t hear it from me.”

“The Lion King! It’s got to be The Lion King!”

“Shhhh!” Taylor hissed. “I will see you two later- and we’re definitely gonna hold you to double-date movie night.” With a high-five to her bestie, she finally found her way to the table, where Estela was watching her, eyes shining in the flickering light of a candle.

Famished from their long trek down from the waterfall, Estela and Taylor practically inhaled their food for a couple of minutes, before slowing to savour the experience. Their eyes met across the candlelight, and for a long while they just gazed into one another in sweet, meaningful silence.

Estela reached out to take Taylor’s hand, and slowly, tenderly, she caressed it with her thumb. The feeling of those fingers in her own… it was what being home felt like. “Thank you, Taylor,” she whispered. “For today. For everything.”

“Thank you.” Taylor leaned in and kissed her, at first soft and gentle, then growing stronger, more heated.

A little while and several kisses later, Estela noticed in the corner of her eye that they were being observed. As she turned to look at them, Craig and Zahra quickly averted their gaze, sniggering into their glasses. Noticing Taylor’s questioning look, she said. “They’re acting weird.”

Taylor laughed. “Pretty sure they’re drunk already. Like, ninety percent of the reason they’re at this shindig is the booze.” She reached over for another kiss, from which Estela pulled away almost instantly. “Hey, what’s up?’

Estela glared pointedly at Zahra and Craig, who simultaneously double over laughing before each throwing down two shots. She watched for a little while, and they seemed to turn their attention over to Aleister and Grace at a nearby table.

“Jeez, you’re distracted…”

“Shhh!”

At their table, Grace leaned in close to Aleister, talking to him with a look of great intensity in her eyes. His cheeks suddenly became flushed with pink, and flustered, he sent his fork flying across the room. Craig took a swig of beer and Zahra followed suit.

“So… what are you two up to?” asked Taylor, standing over them with an eyebrow raised. “You’re kinda ruining the mood…”

Zahra leaned back in her chair, rocking it precariously. “One shot every time someone starts making out. A drink for… uh… that guy…blonde baby Rourke… making an awkward ass of himself. And an Estela death glare is a shot too… you should try it… you would be like never, ever, ever, ever be sober again. Ever. And Drunk Taylor is Fun Taylor.”

In spite of herself, Estela glowered at them, at which Craig attempted to leap up to retrieve another drink and instead fell flat on his back.

Taylor just laughed. “So how much is that worth?”

“One sip. Thaaaaat’s all.” Zahra said, slurring her words. “If I skulled every time he was a dipshit, I’d be dead… for real, though… and poor Craiggers would be all sad…”

“Well, you’re gonna have to pick new targets… we’ve got plans. Upstairs.”

“Noooo!” Craig cried from the ground. “That would be… I dunno… ten shots worth if you do it here.”

Zahra gave them both an apologetic look and clapped Estela on the back. “Go get it! …I don’t think he can run after you…”

Estela gratefully took Taylor’s hand. “You’re ready to go get some privacy?”

Taking Estela’s fingers to her lips for a quick kiss, Taylor’s eyes gleamed. “You have no idea…”

________________________________

“Wait- when did you do this?” Estela asked, taking in a room full of glowing flowers that gave the effect of soft, multi-coloured starlight. Many more petals were strewn on and around the bed.

Taylor tapped the side of her nose with a mischievous grin. “A magician never reveals her secrets… but I may have had a little help from a friend. Who offered, by the way, because she was going flower-picking anyhow. I wasn’t expecting as much as this, though… Quinn’s good.”

Hand in hand, they crossed the room. Taylor eagerly undressed, and then turned to see Estela in a hopeless tangle.

Inching across the bed, Taylor smirked. “She’s faced down San Trobidan dictators, taken out a giant demon crab, and handed countless Arachnid creeps’ asses to them, but the mighty Estela Montoya is finally defeated by… an evening dress. Shit, it’s tragic. I think I’m actually gonna cry.”

Estela reached out to give her wife a little shove. “Give me a hand? Maybe I can retain my dignity and you get a little something out of it yourself. If you’re lucky.”

Taylor clicked her tongue. “You can pretend all you want, but you and I both know you’ve been thinking about this…” She unzipped the dress just a little, kissing Estela’s exposed neck and shoulders. “…all day.”

Estela trembled under the heat of Taylor’s breath on her skin. “Yes…” she murmured. The dress slowly fell away, and soft hands caressed her back, her sides, her breasts, while the urgency of the kisses intensified. She allowed herself to be pulled back into the bed, collapsing into a sea of blankets and petals. As Taylor came in over the top of her head for another kiss, she moved first, taking her in her arms and effortlessly flinging her onto her back. “I want you…”

Her hand reaching out to tangle into Estela’s hair, Taylor pulled her face close so that their lips brushed teasingly as she spoke. “I’m not about to put up a fight…”

And then they were lost in a searing kiss, tongues dancing together, arms and legs tangling… caressing, heat rippling between their hopelessly entwined bodies as they moved as one, closer and closer.

“I love you… ohmygod, I love you…” Estela gasped, as the world apart from Taylor fell away. There was nothing but her blissful touch… the look in her eyes as pure euphoria overcame her.

Unable to talk, Taylor gripped tighter into Estela’s back as an unbridled moan escaped her. She shuddered, seeing stars, and then relaxed into a tender embrace. Loving fingers traced along her back, her stomach, her thighs, then reached up to cradle her face. Taylor exhaled, and gently trailed her fingers over Estela’s body, running over scars that were now so familiar, so beautiful to her. “I love you too,” she murmured.

They retreated beneath the covers, hearts still thumping, faces still flushed. Taylor playfully blew a flower petal from her face and snuggled down into the bed, and into Estela’s chest. Face to face, foreheads touching, they continued to stroke, to caress, to love, both utterly entranced.

“I guess,” Taylor said a long while later, “now it’s definitely been a perfect day.”

Estela mumbled incoherently, playing with Taylor’s hair. The soft lights of the flowers made her look radiant, and the whole room felt like a heavenly world that was for them and them alone. It was beyond a dream. A dream belonging to someone else. Someone who felt these things. Perfect? That word just didn’t seem big enough. “I still wake up sometimes and I… I can’t quite believe it. This person… who I am with you, she happened so fast. It feels like a dream or a fantasy. Nothing could have prepared me for you… for what you’ve done to me. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Taylor gave her head a little shake and looked at Estela with the deepest affection burning in her eyes. “It’s not lucky. In all the hundreds of timelines the Endless saw, with all the variations, twists and turns, everything that might have happened… no matter what, it was always me and you. Loving you is etched into the deepest part of my being. That’s not luck… it’s just not possible for you and me to not love each other.”

Somehow, Estela thought, somehow it made sense. That kind of inevitability, there was something… reassuring about it. Taylor was so certain of it. She wrapped her arms tighter around Taylor’s middle, hugging her to her chest, and gave a light kiss to the tip of her nose. They fitted together perfectly, as if it really were the way they’d always been meant to be. “Of all the people I could be destined to love, I still think I’m lucky.”

Her eyelids heavy, Taylor found herself lulled into deep, quiet serenity by the steady beating of Estela’s heart. She closed her eyes with a happy, wordless murmur. “I guess I can’t argue with that,” she whispered. “Sweet dreams, my starlight.”

#for frank

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williamfripp-blog · 4 years

Text

A Hallowe'en Story

A chill October zephyr chased the fallen oak leaves of spring across the cemetery grounds and under the dangling feet of Steven Giles as he sat on the corner of a large tombstone that bore his family name, the marker of his family plot. The false dawn colored the landscape gray around the headstones beneath his feet as the vestiges of the fading night gave way to morning. There were generations of Giles’ here; there would be more still to come, but it was the most recent addition that brought Steven back here, once a year, to sit and wait for Melissa.

They had been apart for five years now, but every year on their anniversary they met at the big granite marker and every year the scars over the loss of their only child Sean were ripped open and bled fresh and every year Melissa swore she would not return, but Steven knew she would be there the next October. He knew the compulsion would be too overpowering. He knew because he felt it too, felt the longing for just one minutes worth of extra time with his son, one extra hour’s memory to recollect where he held Sean and told him how much he missed him. He knew Melissa would be there because she simply had to be there. She had no other choice.

Steven and Melissa had known each other all of their lives, from kindergarten through high school, where their romantic feelings had blossomed, then through college and into the world, marrying and settling in to a comfortable upper middle class American existence, Steven as a software analyst and engineer, Melissa as an assistant district attorney for Mecklenburg County. They lived in a modest three room house in a respectable Matthews, North Carolina neighborhood, they drove economically and environmentally conscious automobiles and when they had lived in Matthews three years, Steven put a pool and a deck in the backyard. Many a barbecue and Superbowl party had been held at the Giles residence since then and many more birthdays, Christmases, Thanksgivings and Fourths of July. The last gathering ever held there was Sean’s wake. That was 2006.

They had not planned on a child, in fact had planned on not having one, believing that the world was a too volatile and dangerous place to bring a child into it, telling themselves that there were already too many people on the planet to house and feed, trusting that the pills Melissa took would prevent the need to completely alter their lives by having to care for, feed, clothe and raise a child. But then nature persevered, as it always does, and one morning Melissa found herself sick and the thought that ran through her head as she vomited the previous night’s shrimp alfredo was, “I hope to God this isn’t what I think it is!” After three days of this morning ritual, she made an appointment with her gynecologist and a week later Steven and Melissa Giles were parent’s to be.

There was never any question that Melissa would have her baby. The idea of an abortion was abhorrent to them and adoption was never mentioned out loud, though secretly each of them had contemplated broaching it to the other then decided it best to abandon the idea, each coming to their own realization that they could not give their flesh and blood away to strangers and worrying that if they found out their partner could that it might change the way they felt toward them. So, they put on their happy faces and went about the task of preparing for their child’s arrival.

They had decided to find out the sex of their child early so they could prepare properly and Steven admitted to a swelling of pride when he learned they were having a son. He had been close with his own father and as the weeks went forward those memories of playing golf and fishing and watching football softened Steven’s attitude toward fatherhood. Melissa, on the other hand, didn’t care which sex the baby was. All she wanted was for the experience to be over. She was sick of hearing from other mothers, including her own, about how joyous and fulfilling becoming a mother for the first time was, about how it would be the most wondrous time of her life, how she could look back on it all in the years to come and take pride in it. Most of all though, she was just plain sick.

It seemed to Melissa that the morning sickness never went away the whole time she was pregnant. She couldn’t find anything to eat that satisfied her hunger or appeased her appetite, she gained thirty pounds and had to buy an entire new wardrobe, her breasts had doubled in size and were tender to the touch and she had terrible hemorrhoids but the biggest change was that her gentle, sweet disposition had been possessed by an evil entity she hardly recognized as herself. She snapped at Steven, she insulted drive through window cashiers like it was an Olympic sport and she berated her mother to the point that she actually quit dropping by (which Steven actually saw a good thing.) Even her gynecologist had lost his smug, all knowing I’ve-seen-this-a-hundred-times demeanor when Melissa came in for her regular checkups. He eventually gave her a valium prescription, which she steadfastly refused to take for fear of harming her unborn son, a decision that Steven backed her up on, though there were times when he considered taking them himself. So, ten months later when Melissa finally went into labor, Steven and her mother and her friends and basically anyone who had to be around her frequently breathed an inward sigh of relief and waited for the miracle of birth.

Melissa had prepared for the worst. Having suffered throughout the pregnancy and then waiting an extra month to go into labor she had convinced herself that her labor and delivery would be difficult and long and she worried about how she would feel toward her baby after having gone through so much to give birth to him. As it turned out, she needn’t have given it a second thought.

Her labor lasted only two hours and though painful, the delivery went flawlessly and as Sean was coaxed living and breathing from her womb, the release of emotions and sense of relief that washed over her made any description by her mother or friends of the joy of childbirth pale by comparison. It was as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from her, as though she had seen herself through an ordeal that would not have seemed worth bearing if not for the precious sounds of her baby’s first cries, the feel of his tiny weight on her breast, wriggling and red, of the instant electric connection of their first eye contact. Tears sprang unhindered to her eyes as together she and Steven held their son and wept for joy.

The next four years were storybook for the Giles family. The preconceived notions that kept them from wanting children vanished like mist as Sean grew and thrived. Steven’s job paid them well, and Melissa was content to stay at home and raise Sean herself. They joined the local Methodist church, participated in the home owner’s association board and the barbecues on the deck by the pool regained their once lost enthusiasm. Everything was perfect.

In the graveyard, Steven dropped his head and a low groan escaped him as the memories washed over him. He kicked backwards against the family marker and bruised his heal. As he reached down to rub it, he heard Melissa’s voice.

“Careful, lover.”

Steven looked up and there was Melissa, as beautiful as a new spring morning, dressed in black and standing before him. The smile she gave him as he looked at her held no humor.

“Melissa. I thought you might not show.”

“I told you I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to.”

“And yet you’re here.”

“And yet.”

She knelt then, to brush away the scattered leaves that covered Sean’s headstone. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and as he watched from above her, Steven longed to run his fingers through it. But those days were over.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

She rose and stared pointedly at him.

“Is it? Really?” She turned her back to him spoke over her shoulder, as though confronting him head on was too difficult. “I don’t understand you Steven. Why do you do this to yourself? To us? Haven’t we been through enough?”

“I don’t know, ‘Lissa. I guess I just feel like I have to. Don’t you feel it too?”

She turned back to him. “Of course I do! You know I do, but it hurts, Steven! It’s fucking painful !”

Steven grimaced to hear Melissa curse. She had never done that before. Not until their first anniversary meeting in the graveyard. Not until after the accident.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that, Melissa.”

“I know what you wish, Steven, God knows I do, but you can’t have it, okay? Wishes don’t come true.”

He tried to reach for her then, to console her, to hug the pain and spite from her, but she flinched and avoided his hands, once again turning her back to him. For five years this scene had been repeated every October 29th on the anniversary of their son’s death, strapped in the car seat in the back of their environmentally friendly minivan. The crash had been devastating. A man three times convicted of drunk driving with an alcohol level of two times the legal limit had flown through a stop sign three blocks from his home at sixty miles per hour and t-boned the minivan as it crossed the intersection. Sean never had a chance. And neither had Melissa.

Now, as the first rays of the frigid morning crept over the reddening horizon, Melissa turned her now fading face back to her husband and as she dissipated back into the ether, she whispered’ “I won’t be back next year, Steven.”

But he knew she would. She had no other choice.

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