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[bowie-leblanc]

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FKA twigs pole dancing to Solange’s “Cranes in the Sky”

[bowie-leblanc]

Indya Moore

ESSENCE Portraits 2023

[bowie-leblanc]

I would love you anyway Even if you cannot stay I think you are the one for me Here is where you ought to be I just want to satisfy you Though you're not mine, I can't deny it Don't you hear me talking, baby? Love me now, or I'll go crazy Oh oh, sweet thing Oh, you know you're my everything

@marcellushart

[bowie-leblanc]

marcellushart​:

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

                                   The invitation to talk had a power to lift a weight all by itself, before any talking happened. Marcellus had convinced himself that Bowie, rightfully so, would never want to see or hear from him again. The universe seemed to disagree with them being on separate paths and Marcellus wondered if that was also why life never went right for him after he left. Grateful for Bowie’s graceful extension, he treated her home with the politeness that would be expected. He took in every sight and smell, knowing instinctively what influence came from her creative mind or her friend’s. Still after all that time, he knew her and she knew him. The unfamiliarity of the space melted into the familiar smell of her soul food cooking, transporting Marc’s mind and heart back to their sweeter years. Just like that, he was no longer a stranger and the walls around them felt like home. It wouldn’t be home if he wasn’t caught by the pot either, a cheeky and bright smile lifting his face as he still carried his finger to his lips. “I’m just checkin’, alright? Like a co-captain.” he teased back but backed off respectfully while he laughed. “All this is beautiful. Feels like New Orleans.” he then said, looking around the kitchen even right down to the lists and memories stuck to the fridge by magnets. Marc was impressed how they all managed to capture the warmth that NOLA had, despite being so far away but he guessed they just carried that energy with them without even trying. Bowie was a beating heart wherever she went and he smiled as he watched her, his mind knowing that she could make a cardboard box feel like home. “You gotta tell me the story how you found this place. I got a feeling it’s a good one.”

-

“Now, Marcellus,” Bowie gives him what would be a scathing look if it wasn’t for the insuppressible smile trying to break through. “Don’t come in my home and play with me. When have you ever known me to need a damn co-captain,” She gives into her amusement, laughing with a giddiness she hasn’t felt in a long, long time. “And if I remember correctly, your ass was doing more chewing and tasting than stirring and chopping,” Bowie teases further, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. If she could do it all over again, she would pick the familiar scene of Marcellus picking around her pots a million times over, the air laced with a love so palpable, it used to hang over the kitchen like a cloud. “Baby, you know I had to bring some of home up here with me. I couldn’t have survived in these mountains with these folks without it,” She sets the wooden spoon down next to the stove, opting to lean back against the counter facing Marcellus. Besides River and Fox keeping her sane, she lived for the care packages that her momma would send when she first arrived. “Believe it or not, Fox and River actually found this place, but it’s perfect, isn’t it?” Bowie says with a proud smile. Yes, moving to Colorado was a big adjustment at first, but she really couldn’t love her life more. The apartment is beautifully their own, hers, Fox’s and River’s, and it’s set above their baby, The Broom Closet, which was a beautiful manifestation of their passions, their hopes, and their dreams. Not to mention, she’s managed to find a family here too, who helps alleviate that home sickness that doesn’t come around as often anymore. But best of all, this is the place where her paths crossed with Marc again. So while New Orleans is great and will always hold a very special place in her heart, maybe Lockwood Springs is where she was destined to be. This, whatever this is, she refuses to believe it’s some mere coincidence. The universe doesn’t work that way. “They had it for about a year before I got here. Having a place above the shop might’ve been the draw, and I mean, it’s definitely a plus. I love it. Plus, it’s in the heart of downtown, which probably turned some people off but not me. I’m a city girl, baby, you know I don’t mind the noise,” Bowie smiles. “The apartment, you like it?” She asks, a bit of hopefulness in her voice. She knows she definitely likes having him in it.

[bowie-leblanc]

odessa-kashirsky​:

at: restricted access @bowie-leblanc​

-

Odessa always carried herself with a straight posture and a slight determination to her walk even if she had nowhere particular to be. It was hard to tell if she was watching everything around her or simply didn’t care about the happenings surrounding her, it was often a mixture of the two. Her walk took her right towards Bowie, the dancer reminding her of the warm hearts that guided her years ago. To say she enjoyed her company was an understatement and she always ensured she was front of the house whenever Bowie performed too. “Look at this, I was in a rush.” Odessa cooed, half sad but also laughing as she slipped off her coat and immediately tugged the side of her sequined dress slip. “It got caught on the-” her hand swirled as she thought of the word but she ended up shrugging instead. “Thing.” Odessa laughed, pouting to her friend. “Can you fix it with your magic? I don’t want to give them a show before they’ve paid.”

-

Freshly applied lashes cements themselves into into drying glue as Bowie leans back into her seat and away from the mirror at her station. Fanning her eyes to hurry the process along, she spots the shape of Odessa’s reflection coming closer. “Hey, my baby,” Bowie greets her fondly with a bright and natural smile. She has an affinity for the Russian woman. When she joined the ranks there at Restricted Access a year ago, Bowie made it a point to let her know that they’re all family at the club, and her newness made her no exception. “Aw no, lemme see,” She examines the tear in the slip, her fingers gently assessing the sequined fabric. “Take it off for me,” She says as she reaches blindly underneath her vanity, patting around until her fingers clumsily knocks into the sewing kit she keeps on deck for emergencies like this one. Securing the box, Bowie pulls it into her lap, removes the top, and riffles through it for a needle and a fairly matching thread. “This ain’t nothing. I can get this fixed for you real quick,” She glances up at Odessa with a smile. “You been alright, baby?”

[bowie-leblanc]

Status: closed @marcellushart​

Location: House of Abundance (aka Bowie, River, and Fox’s apartment) 

The scene plays out exactly like it might have five years ago. Bowie stands barefoot in front of the stove, one foot resting atop the other, keeping herself effortlessly balanced as she tends to the last pot of gumbo for the season simmering before her – smoked sausage, andouille sausage, shrimp, chicken, crab, seasoning and all stewing to perfection. Wooden spoon in hand, she stirs. She stirs, and stirs, and stirs. A mindless motion while her thoughts carry her elsewhere. There’s no harm in it, is there? Cooking dinner for her friends is a beloved hobby, and after all, Marcellus is her friend. Inviting friends over for a bite to eat, however, doesn’t typically extend itself into spending the first half of the day cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. It sure as hell doesn’t usually mean kicking Fox and River out, but she can’t stress enough that just this once, their presence isn’t welcomed in the home they’ve created together. Not for the next few hours. She needs this time alone with her ex without disturbance – to talk, of course. Marcellus and Bowie, they do need to talk about it all, about everything. But she’s pulled from her thoughts when she feels his warm presence first before hearing his steps creak across the floor. A smile grows on her face as he draws nearer until he’s looming over her at the stove. Laughing, Bowie gently pushes Marc away. “Boy, if you don’t get from by this pot. You know better than that. Move,” She teases as she faces him, one hand on her hip, the other balancing the spoon on the edge of the pot. This, it feels different from their other encounters since reconnecting, but in the best, most natural way imaginable. Running into him out in public is one thing, but this is its own thing entirely. He’s a stranger in this home, but he fits right in like he’s been here all along. Like he’s meant to be here.

[bowie-leblanc]

Whispering in his ear My magic potion for love Telling him I'm sincere And that there's nothing too good for us And I just got to be me, free, free

[bowie-leblanc]

[bowie-leblanc]

riverpatel​:

trix & the traitor

-

“No, nope! That’s not what I’m saying.” Fox tried to interject, raising his voice as he waved his hand to try and stop River’s rant. What happened to live and let live? Why did he have to abandon his favourite grunge artist just because River didn’t like her. It was unjust. “I’m saying, WHAT I’M SAYING IS, the reasons why people dislike Courtney are always embedded in mishoginy.” Now he was merging the two words. “The idea of her killing Kurt are just because people didn’t like the fact she’s outspoken about the bullshit women have to face!” Fox raised his voice again passionately, not liking that this felt like the billionth time he had to protest for her innocence. “She literally released her own music in 1991 and people literally claim that Kurt wrote shit for her, and it’s so untrue. She had no reason to kill him! She was successful already!” Fox’s hands, for some reason curled like a hearty Italian-American. “I’ve always thought Dave was suspicious. He literally never got any attention in Nirvana and then, low and behold, FF’s drummer rocks up dead. I’ve never bought the nice guy act, sue me River. TAKE ME COURT ABOUT IT, I’LL LITERALLY GIVE A LAWYER MY WHOLE ALBUM COLLECTION AND WE’LL HAVE YOUR ASS.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───    

                                            Call it a sixth sense or being spiritually intune with River, but Trix could tell by the way they stormed down to the store that something was wrong. And usually, the only time there was disharmony was because of one thing and one thing only. The thing that shouldn’t be mentioned, the thing that could cause a dilemma at any given moment. It didn’t take long for the raised voices to reach the apartment, making Trix groan slightly. “Here we go.” they sighed, moving to the stairs to listen a little closer. This one seemed like a bad one, what had it been? 200 days? Or something. Trix always lost count. “Okay come on, she doesn’t even know any of us exist.” they made themself known, walking the rest of the way into the store. A lightening quick glance moved to River, a low warning to not let a secret spill before Trix looked to Fox “No one’s gonna go to court, and no one’s gonna hate anyone for having different opinions. Okay? This has gone on too long.”

-

“YOU JUST SAID I WAS SECRETLY MAHOGENY WHICH I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS,” they paused to extend their arms like some weird flappy bird or something. “I speak fluent Foxy, thank you very much.” As if that was something that was up for debate. He spoke fluent Rivvy too, that was a no brainer. Their hand made a claw and they used it as a hand puppet while mouthing ‘blah, blah, blah’ like a bratty teenager being scolded by their parents. “He probably did write some of it but I can’t prove that, what I can prove is that he wasn’t hooked on opiates before she met him and then he was. SO whether she killed him purposely or inadvertently SHE STILL KILLED HIM, YOU, YOU. YOU. KURT COBAIN HATER.” They scoffed and was just about to continue when Trix decided to enter in their two cents. Which only reminded them of the secret they weren’t allow to say but really, really wanted to bring up at that very moment. Their dark gaze nearly burned a hole in Trix when they glanced over. “Well Fox obviously HATES ME because he can’t seem to just leave the one thing I hate outside of OUR HOUSE.” They glared at their best friend and huffed, crossing their arms over their chest. “It’s like you want me to move out or something.” 

-

Everything Bowie knows about Courtney Love, Kurt Cobain, this goddamn album, and pretty much the grunge genre in its entirety is known against her will. It comes with living with River and Fox, an unspoken truth that it’s always only a matter of time before the age-old argument resurfaces. Sitting on the shop’s front counter, she keeps her peace and doesn’t utter a damn word. Normally, she flees anytime the woman’s name comes up, but first, she made her stance clear on the subject long ago. Don’t ask her. But instead of making her way up the stairs and finding refuge in the apartment with the cats, Bowie instead opts to be a silent, albeit confused observer. The mental gymnastics they both go through to state their cases must be exhausting. She’s yet to figure out how they’re able to jump from point A to point W so seamlessly. Who killed who and how and what not, but it’s not her business to worry about it. She keeps her mouth shut and tries following along.

[bowie-leblanc]

marcellushart​:

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────  

                                   It didn’t matter if Marcellus saw that exact smile a thousand times, it would never be enough. There was a longing to see it, even as he was miles away it would be the image he tried to fall asleep conjuring. He wondered if Bowie could feel him from the distance, laying there alone and staring at the blank ceiling and begging with his imagination. Don’t let me forget that smile. “How long you got? because there’s a list.”  Knowing you’re in the same place but I can’t reach out and feel you. Knowing that if there was ever a time for an apology, it’s now. Still, there was a comforting feeling floating between them now. Much better than the shock that was palpable when they met unexpectedly. It was as if they both had time to digest the new truth, that they were going to see a lot more of one another. 

Marcellus had settled for the ghost of Bowie a long time ago, searching for an irreplaceable aura everywhere he went. So now, just existing close by was better than he imagined. Her laughter brightened his own smile, and his deep chuckle sounded out to her words. “I’m not trying to get anything to work, just speaking my truth.” he said happily. And no, Bowie’s reveal didn’t make Marcellus’ smile fade because of sadness. It faded because she always had the perfect words, and it stunned him to realize that after all this time, their feelings were still in sync. “Eh, I’ve heard you be cornier.” he teased with a soft grin. “But I know what you mean. I convinced myself we’d probably never talk again.” he admitted, because it didn’t feel much of a secret. He was sure Bowie had those intentions. “I’m glad we are, by the way. If that much isn’t obvious.”

-

“I don’t think we’re going nowhere no time soon, so I got plenty time to hear this list of yours,” Bowie teases, folding her arms across her chest as she leans against the gently glowing vending machine. It’s startlingly natural to fall back into line, as if the time they’d spent apart was a measly five minutes instead of five years. In retrospect, she’d like to believe she’s a different woman from the one Marcellus knew, and in many ways, she is. She’s older, wiser with a little more life experience under her belt. But now that the shock has worn off of him waltzing back into her life without warning, she can feel herself, if only for this moment, reverting back into a girl who was once giddily in love. It only makes sense. He was her heart, and her heart has finally come back home. But again, she’s older, and she’s acquired a wisdom that he left her no choice but to obtain when he left. She doesn’t know what Marcellus being around means for them, but she's more careful now. Jumping right back into his arms and letting bygones be bygones isn’t an option, for her own protection. She needs to know that he’s grown too in the time they spent apart before she lets him back in entirely, whether if that’s as the love of her life or as a friend. 

Still, for the moment, it’s nice to pretend a much larger conversation isn’t looming over their heads. Right now, it’s nice to linger on a make believe that’s void of everything that had gone wrong. “Oh, so you just speaking from the heart, huh?” Bowie asks playfully, smiling up at him and visibly flattered before breaking into a gloriously genuine laugh. “Oh no, baby, don’t do me like that,” She chuckles still, but there’s no embarrassment in it. Cornier or not, the things she said back then definitely came from the heart, and having been in love, she didn’t care how silly or foolish she might’ve sounded. “Crazy how the universe works,” Bowie sighs into a sadder, softer smile, her hands moving naturally to rest on her hips. When she showed up on her momma’s doorstep crying after Marcellus ended things, the woman left her daughter with simple advice. What’s meant for you will never leave you, because it will always find a way back. Those words came back to her when she saw him again that day outside of the elementary school, and ever since, she’s been trying not to get swept up by a current of joy and relief. “Me too,” Bowie says truthfully, nodding. “Just don’t make me say goodbye again, and we should be good.” It’s meant to read like a joke, something they can both laugh at now years later, but it doesn’t quite land. She knows it. 

[bowie-leblanc]

finn-oconnor​:

.

“Bet you’d look cute as hell in Morticia.” He countered with a wink. As much as he liked Bowie, however, he would never let her drive that car. No one but him drove that car. A photo shoot though, he could get behind that. Maybe. One thing he agreed on is her not fitting in a van or anything like it. She looked like she belonged in another decade. He sighed when her hand pulled away and she gave him her response. It wasn’t the one he wanted, it was the one he already had and hated. “Figure I keep doing that, pretty soon we’ll be talkin’ ‘bout my baby sister in the past tense.” As much as he didn’t want to believe it or say it, it had become too close to reality before and seeing what Bowie just dealt with he couldn’t stop picturing it over and over again. “That really that lanky thing’s name? Trix? Feckin’ weird shit.” The blonde shook his head as if he hadn’t heard weirder with all the stage and film names at Restricted Access. He watched her pour the alcohol and let out a low whistle. “Damn, they move fast, huh? Congrats to them, I guess. If that’s your thing.” Marriage seemed like a foreign concept to him. “Didn’t Jack Skellington just come to town this last fall?” Finn nodded a thanks to her for the drink. “Sláinte,” he knocked his glass again hers and brought it to his lips. “What do ye think ‘bout all this snow?”

-

Finn’s directness makes Bowie hold her breath, just for a second. Angel and her demons are no secret, and because she shared the same demons as River, Bowie got to bear witness to some of it. After all, it was the younger woman who accidentally let it slip that River’s addiction was much more severe than anyone had given them credit for. And from what it seems, Angel was right there along with them, drowning in their vices together. The only difference now is River is clean, turning their life in a new direction, a choice that’s undoubtedly added years to their life where the drugs would once take and take and take. Angel hasn’t reached that luxury of being free. She’s still in her mess, stuck in it. And of course, they all have their hopes, their wants for Angel, but she’d be a damn fool to lay any promises or certainties on the wayward woman. “Baby, let me tell you this. I’m sure you’re not gonna want to hear this shit, or maybe you already have but make peace with the fact she might not be here one day. I knew if I hadn’t made peace with myself some time ago, they would’ve had to throw my ass in the ground right next to River if they had died,” She speaks plainly, because she knows Finn is no delicate man. He can take it. 

“Not too much on Trix now,” Bowie laughs. Never once did she think she’d see the day she’d be defending him. It’s one of the many pleasant surprises that’s come with River’s sobriety. She’s offered an olive branch, apologizing for her distrust of them. “Oh no, baby, they got a history that goes way beyond their lil reunion here, but I guess when you know, you know,”  She shrugs, tapping her cup against his. A natural curiosity rises in her, but it’s a bear she intends not to poke. She wonders, though, if Finn has ever been in love, even just once. If he’s ever gotten close enough to anyone to want to spend the rest of his life with them.  Surely, there’s been someone who’s gotten through that hard exterior and has seen a side of the man that would seem impossible and downright unbelievable if brought to light. But she lets it go, taking a sip of the rum. “I’m not built for this snow shit,” Bowie laughs genuinely. “I thought at least by now I’d be used to it, but hell no. I’m mad if it’s flurrying, so you know my nerves bad right now in a whole ass storm, especially being locked up in here with all these people. Why do you think I came prepared?” She smiles, lifting her cup and taking another drink.

[bowie-leblanc]

riverpatel​:

.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise.” They wave a hand knowing full well it would be no use in the grand scheme of things. Bowie knew River better than they knew themselves and River definitely knew Bowie was going to do what she needed to do to achieve her peace of mind. They had put her through enough over the last decade and they would not argue with her, or deny her any answer ever again. “Got into it with an old dealer. I forgot to pay him or stole it, who knows. I don’t remember but he certainly did.” River laughed even though no one else was going to find it amusing. The bruises and cuts forming weren’t particularly funny either. Trix was going to lose their shit, but River wasn’t sure who they were going to have to worry about going to get revenge out of the two of them. Bowie and Trix’s protective streaks for the ones they loved were quite equally matched. At least in River’s experience. By the Goddess, they knew they were blessed to have such amazing people in their corner. “I had just went to go for a walk, I was going to come right back but I unfortunately met my overly aggressive and not friendly at all buddy on my way back.” They wanted to repeat that they were fine but decided against it. Instead they lowered the ice pack so she could get a proper assessment for herself. 

-

“Baby, I’m not trying to hear all of that,” Bowie says, her panic solidifying. Overprotective is an understatement. From a young age, she’s taxed herself with being their protector, a job and responsibility she has always taken seriously. From being kids to now on the cusp of being thirty years old, nothing has changed. Clearly, River is not fine. Fine would be showing up to their little corner of the gymnasium unscathed, and since that’s not the case, there’s absolutely nothing ‘fine’ about this. But she does her best to listen, a sick feeling falling over her as River tells her what happened to leave them in the state they’re in. Goddamnit, she sighs internally and bites back the lecture that’s on her tongue. It would be pointless to tell them this is why they shouldn’t fuck with people like that, but addiction has a way of robbing folks of common sense. Dealers are always going to come and collect, but Bowie doesn’t give a damn. She wouldn’t care if River blew up the dealer’s supplies and put him out of business, that doesn’t give anyone the right to lay a hand on them. As River lowers the ice pack, she can’t help the gasp that leaves her lips, but the shock gives way to a dangerously quiet anger. There’s a shift in her, getting right down to a side of her that’s rarely seen. Still, it’s present in her, and revenge is on her mind and on her heart. “Who was it?” Bowie asks, her voice eerily calm. “I want you to show me who it was.”

[bowie-leblanc]

frankie-ackerman​:

where: the broom closet

who: @bowie-leblanc​

There was a lot to love about Bowie and her practices were definitely one of them for Frankie. A lot of the herbalism and holistic healing she practiced walked in the same realms of the metaphysical world. That and they were one of the few places in town that appreciated her herbs. Which she was happy to supply whenever requested. “Good afternoon, gorgeous. I come bearing gifts.” She greeted holding up a tote bag filled with several herb bags inside. The redhead moved further into the shop, inhaling the familiar scents and smiling. Every time Frankie visited she was reminded of how much she loved the atmosphere of the place. The mixture of records and metaphysics was so unique and fitting for the characters who ran the place. “How you doing, sweetheart? Everything treatin’ you alright? You guys didn’t get any damage from that storm did you?” If they did, Frankie couldn’t tell. The beautiful arrangement of the store looked wonderful and in order per usual.

-

Bowie sits on the counter, her focus drawn to the eucalyptus and lavender bundle she wraps and ties together with a piece of twine. She’d been making one for the apartment to hang in the shower, but she figured she’d make a few more with the leftovers. See how well they sell in the shop, and so on. Between the scent rising from the bundle and the task at hand, relaxation and calm washes over her, a soft grin unknowingly fixed on her lips. But that grin grows into a wider, brighter smile when the door of The Broom Closet chimes open and she sees Frankie. “Hey, my baby,” Bowie slides down from the counter and gives the redhead a quick, but affectionately tight hug. “What you got for me today? Let me move this stuff out the way for you,” She says as she moves her supplies to the other end of the counter. “I’m good, baby. Everything’s good,” Bowie dusts her hands off on her skirt and turns her attention back to Frankie. “We lucked out, but I can’t say the same for the folks next door. How you been? You made out alright?” Bowie asks, genuinely curious and ready to provide a helping hand in any way Frankie needs it.

[bowie-leblanc]

Status: closed @salem-huxley​

Location: Galaxy Comics

Normally, Bowie wouldn’t step foot in a place like this. Not that she has anything against comic books or those who have an infinite love for them, they’ve never been her thing, and she can’t imagine she’s going to find a newly sprung passion at this age. No, she’s here for a different reason, a prettier, much more inviting reason by the name of Salem Huxley. The two of them are friends, sometimes a little more than that. It’s a nice, mutually beneficial arrangement that comes with its perks, to say the least. 

After she’s done all the exploring her limited interest will allow, Bowie makes her way back to the counter, back to Salem. She puts her elbows atop of the surface, resting her chin in her hands as she looks at them. “So, baby, how much longer ‘til your shift is over?” She asks, a teasing smile on her lips. Not that she’s implying anything specific, or maybe she is, regardless, the sooner they can leave the store the better. “I was thinking maybe we could go grab something to eat,” Bowie shrugs. Between being done at The Broom Closet for the day and not needing to show her face at Restricted Access, her schedule is wide open, so why not try to catch up with a friend?

[bowie-leblanc]

undefined

Indya Moore via eatmakeup

[bowie-leblanc]

riverpatel​:

where: edison high school

who: @bowie-leblanc​​

They were not going to be able to hide themselves for long. First off, they had been gone long enough that either Trix or Bowie would worry and if one started, they both would start. Then if they get Fox involved it would throw the chaos element into it and before they knew it, a whole list of conclusions would be made and a full search party would be formed. River was always around, it was the constant craving for attention and affection that could not keep them away for long. Besides, Ale had been right about the ice. Having been in a fair amount of fights that were one-sided due to their non-violent tendencies, they knew full well that the sooner they iced things and took an anti-inflammatory, the more likely they’ll be able to save their best features. River had hoped that Bowie might be occupied with one of her well-deserved admirers and Trix had fallen asleep. When they rounded the corner with the towel wrapped ice on their head to their home away from home, Bowie was already there. “Before you say anything, it looks worse than it is.” River started because it was true, they had not had time to clean it up properly. “And I’m fine. Almost positive nothing’s broken. It was all just a misunderstanding.” 

-

Where the hell is River? They deserve so much more credit than Bowie’s giving them, but she is nervous. There are many factors at play. For starters, her better half is fresh out of rehab. There’s the storm that seems to be stationed over Lockwood Springs with no intention of leaving any time soon, and then there’s their traumas rooted in natural disasters. Being trapped under one roof, sheltering for the unforeseeable future is too reminiscent of events past. It would be a lot for anyone, and though she couldn’t be more proud of River and how far they’ve come and how well they’ve done in recovery, there’s still that petulant what if. What if they’ve ended up alone? What if they’re scared? What if they’ve relapsed? What if, what if, what if?

Having had enough of waiting, Bowie’s on her feet, phone in her hand as she unlocks it to call River. She just needs to know they’re okay, that’s all. To be able to find them and look into their eyes, to stroke their cheek and know they’re still good, that all of their hard work hasn’t gone down the drain. But Bowie hesitates, her thumb hovering over their name. There it is again, another slew of what ifs. What if they don’t pick up? Or worse, what if River does answer, but all of the signs are there that they’re back to square one. But then she hears their voice and the temporary influx of relief she feels vanishes in its entirety when she looks up. Her face falls, her heart sinking right along with it as she pays no attention to River’s words and rushes to them. “What the hell happened? You okay? Where you been? Did somebody hurt you?” The questions fly from Bowie in quick succession, examining them just as quickly. 

[bowie-leblanc]

finn-oconnor​:

.

Finn chuckled, “alright, alright. One of those commercial vans, then. Or a SUV.” He imagines if the entire set of O’Connor siblings lived in one spot they would need a hotel or an apartment building along with the bus. His eyes flicked down to the hand on his arm. He didn’t hate it the way he did when some people touched him, however he was aware her hand was there and he watched it until it left. “Thanks. Can’t force people t’ get their shit together y’know?” Finn knew Bowie already knew that in her own way. “Damn, ye know I’d follow ye anywhere.” He answered with a quick smile and a wink. “How’s River and slenderman doin’ after their rehab thing?” Finn asked while they walked. Not that he particularly cared, considering at least one of them was messing around with his baby sister and doing drugs with her. He did care that an employee who brought in money was okay and that Bowie wasn’t overly stressed out because she didn’t deserve that shit.

-

“No, no, baby. I’m too cute for that. I’m meant to be driven around in one of them lil  vintage convertibles. I can’t be nowhere driving no SUV, much less a commercial van. If that’s where you think I’m headed, then I’m about to start cutting people off,” Bowie teases good-naturedly. She’d never do such a thing to her curated family, loving them all too much to start kicking folks to the curb for something so trivial. Hell, she’ll drive around in a whole RV if she needs to, and if she must, she’ll look damn good while doing it. That’s just a bridge she’ll have to cross when she gets there. Right now, Bowie’s aware of the way Finn watches her act of empathetic affection, and so just as quickly as she reaches and rubs his arm, she drops her hand back down to her side. “Some people you just gotta let ‘em find their way to it,” Bowie offers, because whatever advice she could possibly give, she’s sure Finn’s heard it all before. And so she moves on with a laugh, leading him over to her designated cot. “River and Trix are good,” She laughs at this seemingly always grumpy man’s joke, throwing a name out there for him to maybe remember as she bends down for a second to grab the rum and two cups from her bag. “They actually just got engaged not too long ago, so you know I’m about to be busy helping with that,” Bowie stands with a proud smile, handing him a cup, unscrewing the cap, and pouring.