The Bowery Presents
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Hole
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Show & Tell
ojovivo
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d e v o n
roma★
bliss lane
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taylor price
NASA
KIROKAZE
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One Nice Bug Per Day
Kiana Khansmith
gracie abrams
Noah Kahan
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@vinnylafleur-blog
All of the above. Can I not just want your pleasant company? And a cigarette? Or a pack?
Want a pint of blood too? Are you a god damn tick now Sawyer? I can be persuaded to leave my tower, the view’s not that great anyways. Where can I meet you?
You're a real ray of sunshine sometimes, Vienna.
Call me Cain to your Abel. Or Vinny, I’ll take that as well. You want something Sawyer? A letter opener? A turtle shell? Floor wax?
Fuck right off. You wouldn't have it any other way. What's got you inspired?
Nah, wouldn’t place any bets on that. Life, liberty, pursuit of whatever. Easton’s rotting my brain probably, and I just got back.
That's deep. Did you get from a fortune cookie?
When you’d turn out to be such a little shit? I got it from a book, you know. Pages, words.
That’s life for you… Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving some thing more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can’t hurt you no more.
Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn (via thelovejournals)
You’re holding this girl. She’s your friend and you’re holding her as she cries over a boy who couldn’t love her right and you’re thinking about the nights you spend together with the stars as your witness. You both loved sunsets, that’s all.
This is what you tell yourself while you hold her close.
She’s crying through second period and you’re whispering words you didn’t know you had, an arsenal of comfort. You will live, you say, the pain you have will scab over and you will heal. It’s a bandaid wound, you tell her. You were grazed but you are still whole.
Her skin is warm against your skin.
You think about sunrises and starlight and cold nights and warm afternoons. And you talk about it, talk until your throat is dry like a tap opened and pouring out and out. When she finally quiets down and she wipes her face dry she tells you, you’re such a good friend.
This is not the place for love letters.
If it was you’d write it out in the dust of moth’s wings on the rooftop where you began to love her. You would write it out like poetry about golden hair and clear, clear eyes. You’re not good at words, but maybe you’d try. For her.
Gia,
I never really cared for the stars.
I only liked you.
I couldn't resist. After you marvel at it, I'm going to take it to get mounted and framed for you and you can put it wherever you'd like.
Merry Christmas Vin. Love,
Char
Because the last thing you needed was more old shit. These'll look great at the apartment, no?
Happy Christmas,
Love ,
Aaron
She could see her parents from her spot at the counter, sitting beside each other on the sofa, the tree in the background as they chatted quietly, the back of her mother’s hand playfully hitting her father’s shoulder. It was peaceful like this and she’d cherished these moments so much, but she knew they could use the time together too and it was what had solidified the decision. “I’ll be there,” she promised, her gaze still focused on the pair. “I’m an awful skier though. You’ll probably find me reading in the lodge or building snowmen instead.”
She crept out of the library, the holidays were quiet at the old French home, the house seemed to do more talking than the occupants did with the creaking wood and groaning as it settled. It was much easier to avoid one another on days meant to be intimate and family oriented, Vin even drifted away from Jack at this time of year. “Aaron is the same. He never wanted to learn when he was a kid, and now he’s an odd duck out for these kinds of trips.” She slipped into her room, her childhood palace, a cross between something belonging to an eighteenth century explorer and a rich sultan, all artifacts and draped fabric. “What’d the fat man bring you?”
“If your need becomes dire, I hear the Antarctic ice-fisherman are looking for interns. Piles of snow, and mortality rates are high all around.”
“I meant pretty, soft, twinkling Hollywood style romantic flakes, not goddamn glacial wasteland. If I get really desperate I can always just go to the freezer and stare at some chipped ice cubes.”
And he’ll be home when I get back so I could always go and visit..it’s just different having him around and spending the week or so with him, but um–you’re right, and I don’t want to pass the trip up. Have you finished packing?
“You got a real Sophie’s choice on your hands. Flip a fuckin’ coin,” she drawled lazily, leaning back against the wall, the phone pinned between her ear and shoulder as she flipped through a book of French fairy tales. Had she been read this as a kid? She couldn’t remember anymore. “Nah, haven’t started. I’m just gonna take my Connecticut clothes and a ski suit, easy peasy.” Vinny paused, putting down the book. “It’d be cool if you came. We could hang out.” She bit her tongue at the way it sounded, grateful that Gia couldn’t see her wince through the phone.
“I think this year’ll be the one that I finally learn to ski. I can feel it, no more tubing for me, I’ve grown out of that.”
“I’ll wave at you while you’re on the pussy slopes getting pushed around by six year olds.”
I’m uh, I’m a little torn. I wanted to spend more time with my parents, but it seems like a fun trip.
Come on, you can spend the whole summer with them, grow fuckin’ moldy with them. Winter break is only so many days long, y’know?
Happy Holidays Vinnyzuela!
+Georgia
“If it was so good, why would they let it go?” she questioned, shaking her head. “Every item in this store has a sad ending. I couldn’t take that home with me,” she answered. “Complicated as they might be.”
Vin’s grin turned wicked, and she leaned forward, a shoulder brushing the tall blonde’s, “Can’t take it with ‘em when they go, can they? Even the goodies bite it in the end.” Straightening up, she dusted her hands on her black jeans, smeared handprints left behind. “It’s always more interesting when it’s sad. ‘Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.’ We can go, if you want.”
Inside this package contains a leather jacket, several books, and a pendant. A note reads:
Merry Christmas, Vin – Izzy
