a dependent multi-muse blog for CIDERPOINTHQ written by bee ( they / them ; twenty9 ; est )
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leo fowler: intro. musings. mirror. threads.
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@f4llaparts
a dependent multi-muse blog for CIDERPOINTHQ written by bee ( they / them ; twenty9 ; est )
STARRING!
leo fowler: intro. musings. mirror. threads.

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Closed Starter for: @f4llaparts
Location: Outside a house on a residential street
Tabby wondered perhaps if she'd spend the rest of her life, waiting for people in her car at ridiculous hours. There was that time with Jason about a month ago, and now Leo. She knew, she knew, that it wasn't a good idea to answer his texts. All of her friends said it wasn't healthy and it was prolonging what should have been a neat split. But regardless of how poorly he treated her at times, Tabby still cared about her ex. She didn't want anything truly awful to happen to him. He needed a mature influence in his life, and if that had to be her, she was willing to do it. Or maybe she enjoyed being needed and being bossy. She kept avoiding the topic of their relationship with her therapist, but that was only because there were more important things to discuss. Her weird, slightly toxic ex-boyfriend was small potatoes. Tabby glanced out her window and saw Leo approach her car from the house party, walking a little slowly. She decided to lay on the horn for fun and revenge. "Alright Puppy, in you go. I'd like to get you home so I can try to preserve some of my sleep schedule. There's water there, drink it slowly.”
The honk from Tabby’s car gave Leo the same start that Daisy Buchanan must have felt every night, when she saw that green light at the end of her dock. Almost mindless in their surety that it’d come - which was mean, probably. Leo was mean in the way they continued to rely on Tabby despite having no right to. There were no stakes between them anymore, except for the ones they created every time they needed a familiar face. One that Leo would bet money on in how she would always come to clean up their messes - both physical and the intangible ones that sat heavier on their chest than anything that carried real weight. “Hey,” He spoke the greeting like it was a chore to do so, molasses coating his tongue and making the word stick to dead air. His other leg wasn’t even in the car yet - Leo was too busy taking their time glancing over her features, gaze darting towards where she gestured to the water bottle. Like it’d come to life and bite him right in the face just because she dared show him a bit of kindness. Even though they’d called for it. Distantly, Leo had always wanted to ask her when she’d hit her limit with them, but a part of him wanted to coax that bitter end out of her himself. A primal punishment for taking advantage of the fact that she was simply just a better person than he’d ever be. It almost fascinated him - a trial run into the intricacies of what it was to be a human being. “Apologies, meemaw. I hope I didn’t catch you mid episode of Young and the Restless, the guilt’ll keep me up for fuckin’ days!” Despite their teasing, Leo still reached across the console - to originally sip at the water she’d brought for them, always so damn caring - and instead bypassed it to grasp at her hand, bringing it to his mouth to press a grateful kiss to her knuckles. This was par for the course, this emotional tug of war that never seemed to have a winner - ongoing and tiresome now, but Leo was nothing if not stubborn in his mindset. “Alright,” they huffed, finally tugging the passenger door closed, “all my limbs are in the moving vehicle. Beam me up, Scotty.” And then, casually, like the answer didn’t matter, “Y’gonna stay the night tonight?”
where: the taproom for: open ! ( @ciderstarters )
Even though the night was relatively young, Leo had to squeeze one eye shut to rid themself of their double vision and get a proper look at the upturned palm they were clutching onto. Hunched over at an uncomfortable angle, they shook their head with a tsk, a dramatic disapproval at what they were seeing, "Woof. Do you walk around carryin' bricks for fun, or somethin'? Your palms totally rough - I think that means you're stressed or whatever, but my third eye's not fully open yet so, like, gimme a second here. I'm tryna work some magic." They weren't particularly subtle in their scoping, nose wrinkling as they tried to pick up on something to work with. Their aunt was into this kind of holistic crap - she'd taught them everything she knew, and it wasn't much. But Leo was good at thinking on their feet, suddenly pointing at one of the random faded lines on their counterparts hand and running away with whatever came to mind first, "Love line's lookin' a little frail. If you're shit in bed you can tell me, I won't even tell that many people. Unless you just got rejected or something - don't sweat it, happens to the best of us. Like, not me, but someone else who's the best, probably. Or - shit relationship? Good relationship gone boring? Never had a relationship? They're overrated, you're definitely not missin' out. Okay, that'll be five bucks, but I take payments in shots, too. Tequila, preferably."
🎶 location: leo's home. 🙍♂️ with: leo fowler, @f4llaparts.
he walks into the house like he owns it — liberty's tags jingling against her leash that was dropped to the floor as soon as they'd both entered without knowing (who raised him??) . he's looking for leo. leo is .. something else. personally, rory isn't quite sure how to feel about them. on one hand, it's not like they've never shown him anything but kindness. sunshine and party streamers wrapped up in their veins, rory is certain that if life of the party was in a dictionary, leo fowler's photo would be the definition. on the other; there's always been something off about their conversations, something he can't quite put his finger on. it makes him nervous. uneasy, like he's the new kid in an established friendgroup. finds leo in the kitchen – liberty sniffing at his feet with wags of her tail, rory's own grin appearing. “hi. wanna see a video of me chopping wood?”
Even though smoking was prohibited in the Fowler household, a cigarette dangled between Leo’s lips as they fiddled uselessly with the settings of the janky air conditioning unit attached to the sun room window. It’d been leaking profusely for days now, enough that the shoddy wooden floorboards his uncle had installed himself - which was beyond obvious, the flooring already a surefire ticket to receiving a splinter - began to lift haphazardly. But Leo was kind to the multitude of plants that decorated the entirety of their humble abode, cracking every other window open, even leaving the backdoor connected to their garden strewn open for the bees to flutter in and their cat Mitzie to mosey out. Still, she was more of a flirt than her owner, making quick work of striding back in to wrap her tail around Rory’s ankle once she heard the familiar voice - Leo didn’t startle when he noticed the two golden retrievers that’d made themselves so at home, seemingly finding it appropriate to enter on their own. “Still not a vampire, I see. Bummer,” They sighed, merely teasing Rory for his sudden appearance without an invitation, “Y’know, you’re kind of a serial killer's wet dream, dude. You don’t even need luring with candy or anything, you just - walk right into people’s places now, talking about your wood. You practically do all the hard work.” Coming to a proper stand from their hunkered position, Leo stretched out with a groan - all long-limbed and freckled frame, fingertips nearly grazing the ceiling, before plucking the smoke from out of their mouth and extinguishing it in their forgotten beer that was more hot foam than cold beverage by now. “Rory, genuinely nothing would tickle me pink more than seeing your Paul Bunyan cosplay. I’m actually getting all sorts of tingly just thinking about it. But,” They extended the wrench in hand out towards Rory, “if you can work an axe, you can work a wrench. I’ve been trying to loosen this one bolt for, like, practically an hour now. The rest came off easy but this one’s tighter than a nun on Christmas. Give it the ol’ college try, I need a break so I can giggle and kick my feet at your manliness.”

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do you hear FIT N FULL BY SAMIA playing? oh, that must be LEO FOWLER breezing by. i don’t know if you recognize them, but they look like HARRIS DICKINSON to me. i heard that THEY have been in town for TWENTY-NINE YEARS ON AND OFF, which is crazy considering they are TWENTY-NINE years old. yeah, they live over on OCEAN AVENUE, and i heard that they work as a FLORIST ( OUT OF TOWN ). i love that they remind me of THE CHEER YOU HEAR IN THE MIDDLE OF A PARTY THAT SIGNIFIES SOMETHING DISASTROUS IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN, ROLLING OUT OF BED TO GO TO WORK AFTER TWO HOURS OF SHODDY SLEEP, THE FAMILIES BLACK SHEEP, HAVING THE WORLDS MOST CHAOTIC ASSORTMENT OF CLOTHES IMAGINABLE (STOLEN FROM GOODWILL), & MIXING VODKA WITH PEDIALYTE TO HYDRATE WHILE DEHYDRATING , but … ugh, their playlist is so weird. why is I SAW YOU in the queue?
anyone ever: from the get-go
me, nodding sagely: from the gecko…
THE GATE 1987・dir. Tibor Takács
#when people ask me how i deal with my problems
HARRIS DICKINSON for prada

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Misfits 1.02
I’ve got nothing to tell.
TO DIE FOR (1995) dir. Gus Van Sant
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (2005-Present)
David Lynch: The Art Life (2016)

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Why are you problematic
just for fun