#once again I am just a sickly victorian child explaining this

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

Oh yeah, there's a lot of equating queer femininity which is its own distinct stylistic identity with the standard expectation of femininity in society. It's coming from a lot of people who don't engage with sapphic culture or sapphic spaces offline and have no understanding of the history of those spaces and cultures.

Any feminine stylistic presentation is seen as inherently for and serving the patriarchy and anti-feminist when for many femmes, it's a presentation of their queerness and so, so obviously a way to signal that queerness to the girlies. It's a stylistic choice similar to butch styling, a way to signal your lesbianism or queerness.

And it's stylistically distinct from "standard expectation of femininity expected of and forced on women."

I don't know why they don't understand this but I like to assume it's because they are literal children or otherwise very young and just genuinely don't know anything about history and hopefully will one day learn and realize they've been sucked into an online radicalization pipeline.

I know SEVERAL afab nonbinary people who, as soon as they came out as nonbinary - immediately began dressing in ridiculous hyper-femme outfits they never would have worn before.  A lot of people see this and say shit like “Theyfab” or say they are only nonbinary for attention.  After all, look how femme they are.

But to me, this makes perfect sense.  When you are forced into the category of “woman” against your will, femininity is a chore.  It’s a job that you have.  As soon as you say no, I’m not a woman, suddenly femininity isn’t your job anymore.  It’s not a requirement.  It’s just a fun hobby you can get into.  Or a little treat sometimes.

[intercoursefluids]

WDIB Chapter 14

Damian walked down the halls of the hotel towards the elevator with Adrien trailing after him hesitantly.

“Uh, should you have said that to your dad?” He asked nervously, rushing to walk side by side with him.

Damian looked at him curiously, pressing the button to call for the elevator.

“It was the truth, why shouldn’t I have said it?”

“Aren’t you going to be in trouble when we get back?” Adrien asked, casting a nervous glance towards the room’s door.

Damian paused, his eyes catching sight on the bruises circling Adrien’s neck.

“No, I won’t be in trouble. And even if I were to get in trouble, he wouldn’t do anything bad.” Damian reassured him as the doors to the elevator opened.

Adrien followed him into the elevator, pressing his lips together.

“Are you absolutely sure?” He asked again once the doors closed.

“Yes, I am. Besides, even if there was a chance he was going to try to hurt me in any way. Clark would stop him. And if this scenario were to play out at home, where Clark wasn’t there, someone else in our family would stop him.” Damian explained, watching the numbers on the elevator go down.

“But that would never happen. I have said and done much worse and he’s never raised a hand to me like that. He has also taught all of us self-defense, we trained until we could beat him in a fight, and then we kept training because it was fun and useful.” Damian finished, glancing at Adrien from the corner of his eye.

Adrien swallowed, nodding his head.

“Okay,” he said, deciding to take Damian’s word for it. “You said ‘all of us’ right? Do you have siblings? Other than potentially me, of course.”

Damian pulled out his phone, opening his photos app and clicking on his family album.

He passed the phone to Adrien as the doors opened.

“Yes, there are a few of us. Though I, and potentially you, would be the only biological children. Everyone else is adopted.” Damian said, watching him flick through the photos.

Adrien walked alongside Damian as he flicked through the photos, it wasn’t until he reached the family photo, with everyone in one picture that he spoke.

“A ‘few’ of you huh?” He said with a laugh, a look of shock painted across his face.

Damian smirked, rounding the corner and spotting the store across the street.

“Just a few.” He said, heading for the crosswalk.

Adrien followed after him with a laugh, rushing across the street and holding the door open for Damian.

Damian walked through and immediately started searching for what he was after.

“Can you tell me everyone’s names?” Adrien asked hesitantly, staring at the photo with mixed emotions.

Damian glanced at him, for the first time wondering if he was actually right in his hunch.

If he was wrong, that look of absolute longing on Adrien’s face would hurt that much worse.

Damian paused, considering his thoughts.

It didn’t actually matter if Adrien was his biological brother or not. He could just be adopted.

Damian shrugged, continuing with his search now that he had a Plan B.

“The oldest is Dick, the second tallest, horribly dressed one.” He started, pulling a stifled snort from Adrien. “Then it’s Jason, the actual tallest with the white streak in his hair.”

“Tim is next, the one who looks like a sickly Victorian child. Steph, the blonde one, was his ex-girlfriend but now she’s dating Cass, the one with short black hair.”

“Duke is the one T-posing with Steph. Alfred is the older man in the suit. He’s technically the family butler but he’s more like everyone’s grandfather. Barbra is the one with the red hair and in a wheelchair, she’s technically not related or dating anyone in the family, at least she wasn’t last time I checked, but we’ve all known her so long she’s pretty much family.”

Damian grinned, finally finding the test he needed.

He grabbed two, just in case, before turning to face Adrien.

“I think that’s everyone but the animals and extended family and family friends.” Damian said, guiding them over to the counter.

Damian paid quickly, wanting to hurry up and get the test finished and over with as soon as possible.

“Okay, so…” Adrien started, turning the phone towards Damian as they started their trip back.

“This is Dick,” he said, looking up for confirmation before continuing. “This is Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke, Barbara, and Alfred, right?”

Damian nodded along as Adrien accurately pointed out each of his family members.

“You got everyone right.” Damian told him.

“Awesome,” Adrien said happily. “Is there anything I should know about everyone?”

Damian hummed, thinking it over.

“Dick is an acrobat. Teaching everyone tricks is one of his love languages but he can also be very touch orientated. Just tell him no if you get uncomfortable, he’s very serious about respecting peoples boundaries.”

“Jason is protective. He’s seen a lot of bad in the world and had no one to save him from it, he tries to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. He’s also a massive literature nerd and a diehard romantic.”

“Tim can be annoying. He’s very nosy with an insatiable curiosity and can be pushy, but he’s been trying to be better about respecting boundaries. He’s into photography and he likes to skateboard.”

“Steph loves anything purple, she’s very playful and that sometimes leads to people underestimating her and not taking her seriously. She’s very clever and likes nothing more than to put assholes in their place, me included. One of her favorite hobbies is tormenting out father.”

“Cass has almost the opposite problem. A lot of people underestimate her because of her size, and she’s a selective mute. She’s a very kind person who is also rather playful, but because of how little she speaks and various other things you won’t understand until you meet her, a lot of people take her too seriously. They don’t expect her to goof off or get the joke so they don’t try to have fun with her and often cut her out of conversations.”

“Duke likes to pretend that he’s the normal one in the family. Truth is he’s just as chaotic as the rest of us, he just hides it, and himself, from the public a bit better. He loves puzzles and riddles, he also loves creative writing, mostly poetry but don’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t think anyone knows.”

“Barbara and Dick have been in an on and off relationship for as long as I’ve known them. Never try to hide anything from her because she will find out and will retaliate in ways you can’t prove. She’s incredible with computers so if you need any help, ask her. If she can’t help, Tim might be able to.”

“Alfred is the man who raised my father, and subsequently, he raised all of us as well. Never try to hide anything from him because he already knows and if you lie it will just make you look stupid. Honestly, he probably already knows about you.” Damian said, giving Adrien a glance as they walked into the hotel lobby.

“What do you mean by that? There’s no way he could know about me-”

“Just trust me. Alfred knows everything, we don’t know how or why, he just does.” Damian told him.

“You make him sound like some kind of all knowing cryptid.” Adrien laughed, passing Damian back his phone.

“I’m not entirely sure he’s human if I’m being honest with you.” Damian said with a shrug, calling for the elevator.

Though their walk there had been rather carefree, Damian could feel Adrien tense the closer they got to the hotel room.

Damian made sure to enter the room first, taking care that Adrien didn’t feel trapped in the room by blocking him from the door.

“We’re back!” He called out, setting the tests on the table.

“Oh, good. Did you get the tests?” Clark asked, coming over to stand next to Damian.

“Yes, I got two. Just in case.” Damian said, shooting a look to his father.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“We won’t need two.”

“Really? When we first got here, we didn’t think we’d need one. Better to be prepared, don’t you think?” Damian said snidely, raising an eyebrow at his father.

Bruce groaned, walking over and opening one of the boxes.

“I walked into that one.” He grumbled, tearing open the package and swabbing his cheek.

Damian smirked, taking the other tube and passing it to Adrien.

“Swab the insides of your cheek and put it back in the tube.” Damian instructed.

Adrien nodded, doing as instructed and handing the sealed tube back to Damian.

Damian took both tubes, putting them in the provided packaging.

“Can you take care of this, Clark?” Damian asked, sure that he would get the hint.

Clark nodded, giving Damian a smile.

“No problem!” He said, taking the package and walking out the door.

Damian just hoped none of the Parisians in the room noticed him walk towards the roof and not the elevators.

Come Find Me In The Maribat Discord!<3

Tag List:

@Toodaloo-kangaroo

@Ev-cupcake

@animegirlweeb

@Vroomtaka

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

[fledglingmaster]

Five (tw: talk of traumatic events, internalized ableism)

We have five members of our system counted for. If there were others that went dormant before we discovered we are a system, we cannot sense them. I know one introject of someone I had a folie à deux with attempted to form many years ago, but I don't think it ever fully did thankfully. After that happened, it made me want to question if I was part of a system again. (I have questioned off and on since I was a child. I actually used to talk to Vani all the time, but I wrote it off as my own internal thoughts and imagination. Eventually we stopped talking when I insisted he wasn't real right to his face.) I couldn't explain what happened any other way. But I shoved that off the table in favor of helping the person who had a complete mental breakdown. Oddly enough, I guess the need of helping them snapped me out of the delusion. There really was weird shit going on, we had several witnesses. But what we thought...it was very different. I had PTSD that lasted years from that incident. Once again, just healing from that and making sure my person was okay took the attention. More than ever, I was freaked out by the idea I was "crazy" and went from curious to denial. I was worried that by having a mental illness it cancelled out and invalidated my psychic abilities. I now know that it doesn't. External voices and internal ones are very distinct from each other. Just as I have seen things that are really there that others can't see, but I also hallucinate and can tell the difference easily. You absolutely can be psychic and mentally ill. (Though I don't see DID/OSDD as an illness but as a way someone's brain functions. Similar to autism, neurodivergent but not bad. There are problems that can arise and a system might need help, but there's nothing inherently wrong with it. It's a natural coping mechanism for trauma.) Since, I have made friends with other systems and have accepted that I am part of a system as well. I wish that more people understood how DID/OSDD really is. It's nothing like what Hollywood puts out. If I had known, I could have accepted my system sooner.

The events that happened for each alter to appear are very clear now that I know their connections. Vani has changed a lot over the years, but he also has a kin list a mile long. One thing that's stayed the same, he has always been a vampire. I find it ironic/sensible he formed because of an unethical dentist. Vampire, teeth, makes sense. Also, from his own main source he dealt with an unethical doctor as a child. He was the first. Then there was little Ciel. Yes, we have a fictive of Ciel as well as both Vani and I are Ciel kin. I guess that's what happens when you are a sickly child and obsessed with the Victorian era. After being so sick for so long he formed and is stuck around the age I was when I was ill. Both Vani and I mistakenly thought we only regressed, nope he's a full alter that fronts when our body is under extreme stress, usually a fever or really sick. He's fairly inactive. I'm a tad surprised other traumas have not caused more alters to form to be honest. It must have been only the three of us for a long time.

I was in my 20's when Lilith showed up. Lilith came from an event that I thought was sexual assault...but by definition and what Lilith has alluded to what actually happened, it was rape. I thought she might have formed from the other rape, the one I knew all of what happened. But she informed me it was the other incident. She's a succubus that hates men, that tracks. It was around then I attempted to embrace being a butch lesbian despite still liking men and identifying as male. I'm sure that was her doing. So that leaves Shiro. Now he came from the second rape. I was in a very fragile state before it even happened. Voltron was my comfort show. I was raped and could have been accidentally murdered. Immediately after it happened, I was going to kill myself. I had what I was going to use but someone stopped me. I thought it was Sebastian in spirit form for a few years. I now believe the person who stopped me was Shiro. The person who kept me alive for months until I could care for myself was Shiro. Who better to help me take care of myself than a man I strongly admired? It also explains why I was in a Keith kin shift for so long. Shiro rarely fronts, he doesn't talk much either, yet he's kind of always around. I'm pretty certain he is our gatekeeper. He will talk for other alters when he has to. Example: when Vani was too upset and stuck in his own thoughts, Shiro told me Vani wasn't doing well and we both agreed he needed to rest. He has had to talk to Lilith multiple times and set ground rules. I've basically been the host since the beginning. In recent years Vani has been fronting more often to the point he has earned his co-host title.

This year has been fucking tough. It seems that every month that something happens to jar us. As much as I vent or Vani vents, there are things that we still don't talk about on here or go into detail. Both Vani and I tend to dissociate, surprise surprise. Recently we both have been dissociating and co-fronting. We have been dealing with depression and feeling apathetic, but it almost feels like more than that. There have been a few times we don't know who is fronting. It makes me wonder if there is another alter or fragment none of us have met yet. A very recent split. We're keeping an eye out.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 2

First

Interdimensional travel? Awful. Don’t try it at home. It’s a lot like how one would imagine getting sucked up a straw: you get squished and pulled until you come out the other side a goopy mess.

Speaking of goopy messes: Tim keeled over and threw up.

He ignored the yelling right next to him because, honestly, he couldn’t even bring himself to look up at the moment. The bright light of this world -- apparently it was daytime here, ew -- hurt his eyes even through his sunglasses and he really didn’t want to move from where he had curled up in what seemed to be grass.

But, eventually, he did. He pushed himself up onto his knees and squinted over at her.

Ladybug had detransformed at some point and was now wearing an old t-shirt and some sweats… and she was apparently fighting off a baby. Damian kicked, screamed, and wiggled in her hold as she tried her hardest to trap him in the blanket again.

“... how are you losing to a baby?”

She sent a glare at him and then mumbled a curse as a tiny fist connected with her face and Damian wriggled away from her.

“Let me think about that, Red. What could go wrong if I, a meta used to fighting other metas, tried to use force against a human child?”

Okay, yeah. It was probably for the best that she hadn’t tried anything.

Oddly enough, when Tim walked over and replaced Marinette, Damian started behaving immediately.

He frowned, tipping his head to the side confusedly. He picked up his younger brother and stood up. “Why’d he start freaking out?”

She did the exact opposite of standing up, opting to spread out in the grass and glare at the sky. “I don’t know. He just started freaking out when I tried to put the watch around his neck.”

“Weird,” he mumbled.

“Yeah.”

He took the time to look around properly for once. They were in a park but it must have been a weekday because there was hardly anyone around. The only people that had paid them any mind were a group of teenagers -- probably ditching, he thought -- that were staring at them with wide eyes.

Tim glanced at a street sign to make sure the common language was English before sending them a glare. “It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

The teenagers quickly looked down at their phones. Tim knew better than to believe that they were actually paying attention, they had the same posture that a lot of lookouts did, but whatever. No one would believe them, anyways.

He gave her a few more minutes before he adjusted his hold on Damian and offered a hand up.

Ladybug took it with a faint smile and he pulled her to her feet. She grabbed their discarded suitcase and they started walking aimlessly.

“Okay, we’re here… but we still need a cover.”

“Um… you’re the one that’s good at hacking, right?”

He nodded. Damian reached a hand out of the blanket and began touching his hair. He was too busy wondering what to do to really mind.

“Great. How about… we’re the kid’s siblings?”

“We can pass as his parents. I mean, it’d be a teen pregnancy but it wouldn’t be bad,” said Tim. “We still had him at eighteen-ish.”

She shook her head. “He’s darker than both of us, it wouldn’t make sense. Maybe I had him with some… darker guy and now you’re my boyfriend? No, that feels racist for some reason. I’m his half-sister, our parents died, and you’re my boyfriend.”

Tim frowned. “Why am I always the boyfriend? He’s my brother.”

“Well, frankly, you look nothing like him. He and I, at least, have similar noses.”

He scowled. It made sense but it still annoyed him. “Fine. I’m your husband, though. I want to have at least some rights.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Guess that’s good for tax benefits, too. Better get me a cute ring.”

“Okay, but the diamond is going to be fake.”

“Cheapskate.”

“Cheskae,” Damian said, yanking Tim’s hair like the little shit he was.

“See, he agrees,” Ladybug said with a victorious grin.

~

They went up to a hotel (Red Robin had tried to talk her into a five-star one but she managed to bring it down to a two-star when showing him the cost) and tried to reserve a room.

“May I have a name for the reservation?” The nice lady at the front counter said, smiling at them.

Red Robin glanced up from where he was awkwardly bouncing with the baby in his arms to shoot her A Look. It was unfortunate that she had no clue what the look meant. She considered the question for a moment before eventually saying:

“Dupain-Cheng.”

Red Robin relaxed a little so she was pretty sure she had gotten it right.

She hesitantly took the baby from him -- the kid had apparently forgotten about his earlier freakout because he was just as weirdly still as he had been back in Gotham -- so he could pay.

The moment they got into the hotel room she fell back in the bed. The baby squirmed a little on her stomach to get comfortable before joining her in her laziness.

Red Robin sighed and sat next to them, resting his head in his hands. “Okay. We’re going to need supplies for him. Do you want to do a supply run or should I?”

She shrugged a little, much to the baby’s dismay. Have you ever had a baby babble angrily at you? It’s very cute.

“You’re so helpful. Thanks, Ladybug.”

“No problem,” she said as if she couldn’t hear the blatant sarcasm in his tone. Then she pushed herself up to squint at him, the baby sliding down to her lap smoothly. “Wait, are we still going to be using codenames?”

He frowned. “Obviously.”

“... for fifteen years?”

“Obviously.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great, so when we take the kid back we’re going to explain to him that, on top of all the adjustment of moving to a different dimension, he needs to now use a different name for you, and messing up isn’t an option. Also, I feel like people are going to question two random people called ‘Red Robin’ and ‘Ladybug’ at some point.”

Red Robin frowned, clearly thinking hard, and then nodded slightly. He removed his glasses and looked at her with an awkward smile. “This is Damian, I’m Tim.”

She raised her eyebrows because he was looking at her expectantly and she really didn’t know what he wanted from her. “Uh… am I supposed to know you?”

“I mean… kinda?”

She squinted at him for a while before shrugging. “That one guy? Timothy --.”

“Yep!”

“-- Chalamet?”

He looked oddly hurt now. “You think I look like Timothy Chalamet?”

“I mean you both have the same sickly Victorian boy look about you.”

“... for the sake of our fake marriage I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that. I’m Tim Drake.” She still didn’t show any hint of recognition (probably because she didn’t recognize him) so he groaned and motioned to Damian. “This is Damian Wayne.”

“Wayne? Like Waynetech?”

“There you go,” he said.

She grinned at him. “It’s not my fault you made me guess.”

He huffed a little. “Alright, fine, then who are you, then?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“... who’s that?”

“A nobody. Like secret identities should be,” she said, giving him a smug look.

He rolled his eyes. “I feel like this is going to be a long fifteen years.”

“Shouldn’t have dragged me into your mess, now you gotta deal with the consequences.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. She returned it. So did the baby.

~

It was decided that Marinette should be the one to go on a supply run since Tim needed to start making identities for them.

… it would be a lot easier if there wasn’t a baby crawling all over him. She’d better get a crib while she was out because he didn’t know if he could deal with a baby smashing the keys for much longer.

“Dami -- no, stop, I -- I swear to god -- you’re a baby okay I can literally just drop you and you would -- please stop --,” Tim cut off his irritated rambling when Damian nearly got them on a good few government watchlists by smashing the keys at the wrong time.

Fed up, he grabbed the kid and set him on the ground. It’ll probably be fine. He only needed to do a few quick things, anyways.

He was shocked to find that there was a version of him in this world. The idea of a Tim who didn’t do vigilante-work was foreign to him. He had apparently stayed with his parents and was now working towards a business degree. This dimension’s Tim wasn’t nearly as famous as he was and the three of them had landed in Texas so it was unlikely that he would be recognized but he would prefer not using the name if he didn’t have to. Just to be safe.

Damian didn’t exist, as far as he could tell, but Bruce Wayne did and he was still famous so it wouldn’t be a good idea to use his last name either.

There was a version of Marinette, too, but she was currently in France helping her parents run their bakery. Very little chance of her getting recognized.

So, he decided to use her last name for all of them. Quick and easy. He’d have to tell her that he changed her birthplace to New Jersey when she got back to the hotel but he doubted she’d have much of a problem with that.

… oh. His phone was ringing. Apparently he could tell her now.

He picked up and wedged it between his ear and his shoulder as he worked at finding them a few social security numbers to… ‘borrow’.

“Yeah?”

“How big is the baby?”

Tim blinked a few times. “... baby sized?”

“No. Like… what size diaper do you think he would use?”

He scoffed. “Do I look like I would know the diaper sizes?”

“Do I look like I do? Just… how old do you think he is?”

Tim looked over the edge of the bed to where Damian was currently shaking Kaalki like she was a maraca. Kaalki, for her part, only looked vaguely annoyed as she bounced around in his tiny baby fists.

“I dunno. Like… a year-ish? Just buy one of everything we can see what fits.”

“Fucking hell I forgot you were rich. You said a year? I’m using that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay -- OH SHIT DAMIAN NO!”

He tumbled out of bed and raced over to Damian before he could stick his finger in a socket. He didn’t really know if that was enough to get shocked but this was not the way to find out.

Damian was apparently very annoyed about him foiling his attempt at dying because he squirmed around in his grip and yelled incomprehensibly. Tim ignored the baby fists trying to knock his teeth out -- his teeth had faced far worse before -- and scooted across the ground to his phone.

“-- to god, Tim, what happened if you don’t answer I will run over there --.”

“It’s fine. Just get… you know the things that cover electrical sockets? Make sure to get some of those,” he said, tipping his head back to rest against the bed so he could kind of relax despite the ball of anger in his arms.

Marinette groaned. “Fuck, you can’t just scare me like that.”

“Yeah, you were the one that suffered the most during that.”

She scoffed but he swore he could hear a tiny laugh hidden under her mumbled ‘shut up’.

He smiled a little.

She didn’t hang up, probably expecting to ask him something else soon, so he listened in idly as he tried to calm Damian down enough to start working again.

She mumbled to herself while she looked for things. Some of the speech was normal but most of it was pretty much as incomprehensible as Damian’s babbling (admittedly, it probably didn’t help that he was only half paying attention).

“... tty trai… now?... oh... alright… oh, great, does she work here?” She murmured to herself. Then, louder: “Hey, lady --!”

“We’re in Texas,” he reminded her. “People are expected to be more polite down here.”

He was too late. Someone started yelling on Marinette’s end and, if the tiny sigh of annoyance was anything to go off of, it wasn’t her.

The yelling lasted approximately five minutes before someone intervened.

He heard her speak in rapid Spanish to the employee and, to his surprise, he could actually understand every word of them talking shit about the lady who had screamed at her. He didn’t know what to think of this outside of pulling the phone away from his mouth so he could try and roll an r. He was delighted to find that he had gained that ability as well. He continued rolling his tongue.

Damian stopped his squirming and gave Tim a confused look… and then he started to giggle. He twisted around in Tim’s lap and started trying to mimic the sound.

He tried to hide his smile as the two of them kept making r sounds at each other. He didn’t think he’d succeeded at keeping his face relatively neutral, but he didn’t really mind.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess

[unholyhelbig]

Bechloe Prompt - Chloe always come home stressed and tired, but the only highlight of her day/night is listening to her neighbor playing piano. One day/night while listening to her neighbor playing piano, it abruptly comes to a halt and Chloe gets worried (the last song played and Chloe heard being "Lighthouse - Hush Sound"). One week later with no music, Chloe decides to check up on her neighbor.

[A/N: A/N: This took forever and I’m really sorry. But hey, I’m not used to writing piano stuff… except for I kind of am. I’m actually going to link a fic that I’m super proud of. It’s not done yet, but it also centers a piano.]

—> THE BROKEN PIANO 

—> SUBMIT PROMPTS HERE 

She always thought the piano was too grand a structure. Its looming frame would take up half of any room that it was placed in. It stole the center stage, drawing all attention to the embossed instrument. Someone who sat at the red studded seat with great posture and strong commitment wasn’t someone Chloe wanted to be.

That didn’t’ mean she despised her neighbor; in fact, she admired the musical prestige that would often float through open windows like the notes that hung heavily in the air. The breeze seemed to shift them like eyes steadily flicking across sheet music.

Chloe would often settle herself against the window seat on the second floor of her old Victorian. She had long ago done away with the screen, letting her leg hang into the open air as her focus shifted to her own work of grading papers.

Her mysterious neighbor always seemed to be fiddling with something- tuning up her instrument or running through the same few bars over and over again. Chloe didn’t seem to mind; her eyes would clench shut and her fingers would tap absently to the beat that edged through the mostly empty suburban street.

In the summer the notes were lighter; they matched the warm air and the scent of honeysuckle that always took up more than half of Georgia. When the weather shifted to a cold heaviness, so did her neighbor’s music. The pianist would lean heavily on the further ends of the instrument, notes deep and dark.

She balanced the mug within her grasp, eyes watering as she gulped down a healthy amount of red wine- it was soft and sour all at once. Chloe had curled herself along the edge of the window once more but without any papers. There was no resolve left in her patience to pick out the grammatical mistakes that one too many made. Instead, she waited for the music.

Her neighbor worked like a clock, though, Chloe had never seen much of the stranger. The darker side of the young teacher wanted to admit that she sprung up quickly from her mattress each time a golden yellow mix of headlights shown through her bedroom window.

It was part of the allure, though, not knowing exactly who played such heavenly music.  

She felt the cold bite of midnight air, letting her head rest against the wood paneling of the window seat. She didn’t mind the cold so much, the light dose of alcohol warmed her skin. Yet, it seemed almost habit to run her free hand up her arm, tracing the pattern of old tattoos often covered up nowadays.

The notes started in a slow and haunting tune, a mix between sharps and flats. The pianist let the music flow, Chloe watching carefully as the sheer curtains lay evenly over a solid window. Warm light bathed the grass in front of the opening. The stranger laid heavily on the keys- Chloe could almost feel the passion put into each note, her fingers tightening against the mug.

There was an earth-shattering crunch. Not one of broken glass, or metal wrapped around a tree at an intersection a few blocks away from her house- no, it was sour notes. Keys all pressed at once as the mysterious stranger weighted everything on the musical instrument.

Chloe drew in a breath so sharp that it burned her throat. She had almost dropped the novelty glass she picked up on her way to Wyoming. It was a little gas station in Limon Colorado, a place that was a mix between a convenient store and a tourist trap. It had worked well enough- being the only thing the redhead had seen worthwhile between civilization and Kansas.

She blinked a few times, staring at the inky shadow that stood in front of the window. She couldn’t quite see an outline, as more of a dark shape. The curtains hugged the frame, two solid arms reaching up as they grasped at the sill, pulling it down with a shaking slam.

Chloe pushed herself harder into the wall, almost as if she was afraid of getting caught. She had never heard the pianist end so abruptly, had never grit her teeth to the point of pain at the sounds that wafted from across the street.

They’re having a bad night she figured glumly, not letting her disappointment of the silence get to her. She had to get to bed anyway, it was too late, even for her.

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheels, knuckles a sickly white against the grey interior. She was trying to talk herself out of this, it was lack of sleep, it was her pure need to be the star of a lifetime movie involving something other than clean-cut weddings- Hell, Chloe didn’t’ know why.

She didn’t know why she was drumming her thumbs against the dashboard as she wiggled around in her seat. Her sapphire eyes snapped up to the rearview mirror every once and a while. She was parked in her driveway, not pulling all the way into her cold garage.

This was ridiculous.

So, what if her neighbor hadn’t played music in upwards of a week? So, what if her mail was collecting on a molded welcome mat? So, what if her grass almost reached the numbers on her mailbox- weeds wicking through the cracks in the driveway.

Okay, so maybe Chloe was a little bit more than curious. But that didn’t’ explain why she had to keep herself from stepping out of her Honda Civic and dashing across the street to knock on a stranger’s door.

She missed the music desperately, and overall, she missed the warmth that it provided with its simple construction. Whoever was behind that grand piano felt with every inch of themselves, made Chloe feel.

Chloe steeled her nerves as she grasped the handle to her car, pulling herself into the cold air. She left a stainless water bottle filled with coffee on her roof- if I’m murdered, they’ll know I wasn’t intending to be.

Her thoughts ate at her bitterly as she pulled back her shoulders and tried to walk across the street. The school teacher cringed at how loud and truth-calling her heels were against the pavement. Sure, a suit like this was a power move at the moment, but not the greatest for sneaking.

She palmed the shoes, used to the rough and chilled pavement under her socks.  

Countless papers were stacked in the gutter in front of the large house, the shutters a deep navy against the slate rafters. There was a stained-glass window that was blocked by a large oak, and a car untouched in the driveway. The grass tickled at her legs as she stepped over the offending mail- not sure if she should knock, or if it was considered rude to even touch the stuff.

Her fingers were shaking like she had never spoken to a neighbor before- she had. The old woman to her left had a pension for figuring out about any fling she brought home, and the lovely couple to the right were trying for their second child. But all of them had a mutual understanding not to disturb an artist at work.

Chloe drew in a breath, one that ripped into her throat as she let her knuckles connect with the wooden door. It seemed too hollow, too empty. She took an instinctive step back, tucking her arms around her as she rocked on her mostly bare feet.

This is a stupid idea, they’re not home.

The thought echoed in her mind. Of course, there was a reason that this person wasn’t answering the door- she almost let out a breath of relief. She had done her civic duty and checked on the neighbor that vanished out of nowhere. Good. Now she can go home and eat that salad she made at the beginning of the week.

That’s when the door opened. Its metal hinges creaked and groaned like the ghost of Christmas past. An unfamiliar warmth pushed past the doorframe as Chloe’s stomach dropped. She could catch the faint scent of vanilla and the musty edge of ink.

A woman stood in front of her, a few inches shorter as she leaned against the door. She had a strong frame, shoulders held back in confidence. She held onto the iron doorknob, a black t-shirt stretched over her stature, grey joggers ending in mismatched fuzzy socks. An innocent person who didn’t’ look so scary- her eyes such a deep midnight that they were almost an inky black.

She squinted, scratching at the back of her head as a few strands of brown hair fell from a messy top bun. “Can I help you?” Her voice was raspy. Sexy.

“I just uh,” Chloe said, “I didn’t’ think I would get this far.”

The stranger lifted her pointed brow, the ghost of a smirk pulling at her lips. “Ah, I see, trying to get the neighborhood recluse out of her house?”

“No!” she rushed, a little too quickly. “I just… I heard you playing last week, and you stopped so suddenly, and your mail has been collecting- like, what if you dropped dead or something? I couldn’t’ not check on you.”

She was laughing. The woman was laughing at how flustered Chloe became- she must have looked like she was mad. Her shoes were still clenched in her hand, her blouse was half pulled from the hem of her pants with all the nervous fidgeting she had subjected herself to.

“That was very kind of you,” The beautiful woman spoke, dragging her thumb along the edge of her eye “I didn’t die, promise.”

She whispered the last word. It sent Chills up Chloe’s spine, one that made her once again trace the ink that graced her arm during a simpler time- the stranger guiding her stare to the exact spot Chloe had called attention to. “I like your tattoo.”

“Thanks.” She said.

“Got any more?” She leaned forward slightly, squinting her eyes “Can I see them?”

“Depends on if you’re the type of composer who runs of coffee.”

The woman scoffed, stepping aside as she let the door creak even louder. Chloe almost flushed at her own words. She was never too forwards when it came to stuff like this- but it felt different. Like she knew this woman for years just based on the music flowing through a grand piano.

Maybe she did know her, maybe they both knew.