The Bowery Presents
🪼
KIROKAZE
Today's Document
Mike Driver

Love Begins

Andulka
macklin celebrini has autism
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
No title available
No title available
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Noah Kahan

JVL

tannertan36
The Stonewall Inn
Cosmic Funnies
almost home
YOU ARE THE REASON
seen from Indonesia

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Sri Lanka

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from France

seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
@opoesie
“His dark curls turn into waves, soft and rough like a raging black sea. His voice can be the wind on your face. Or a fire you want to warm your hands on. A lullaby, or a story of the times when Gods were selfless. Leaves the bitter taste of rust, and the sweetness of strawberries on your tongue. So you blink once and close your eyes.”
— (x)
You wonder if this is how spring came to be? A boy with his eyes laughed at Persephone and suddenly she knew where she belonged.
(x)
His face is sunburnt, freckles splashed generously. From birth, he was touched by the sun. You would think Apollo doted on him as a baby, loving him, claiming him as his forever. Only, he doesn't know how much he's loved. It shows on his face. His eyes are brave, because they had to be. He knows how to take care of people, his hands know how to hold on, to protect, to fight for. They're big enough to make yours disappear, and the palm warmer than you thought, rougher. His fingers won't let go until you tell him to. You hold on for a moment longer.
ozgeburcaka (x)
In the morning, he smells like fresh mountain air, earth, the woods. Somehow, it’s the most comforting scent you’ve known. You share breakfast, hands touching. When you make a silly little joke, he smiles like he found a piece of chocolate hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. He smells like the rain, even when the rain’s been gone for days. Sprinkles of the sea on his wet hair. The boy Poseidon would envy, the one Amphitrite longs to touch.
ozgeburcaka (x)