
Passion for music, books and simon riley đ¤ âĄshe/her | 21 | massive tea loverâĄ
194 posts
People Are Saying Do It Scared, But You Also Gotta Do It Alone. You'll Miss Out On So Much You Want To
people are saying do it scared, but you also gotta do it alone. you'll miss out on so much you want to do if you wait til someone will do it with you. do it scared and do it alone.
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More Posts from Aurorakingsley






Harley & Ivy
palette
hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899
you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you.Â
that was odd.Â
you did mostâhell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. youâd been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could.Â
bofurin boys often covered it upâas was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when youâd come back around and find work youâd slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint.Â
but back to the feeling that you were being watched.Â
âwhoâs there?â you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly.Â
âso youâre the one doinâ all those green tags!â a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. âdid you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?âÂ
fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckinâ-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justiceâthey also practically were civil servants that served the communityâand now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye.Â
he wasnât even dressed in his furin uniformâyou think youâve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about himâpaired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.
âso what?â you ask defensively.Â
âyou do know the graffitiâs illegal, right?â umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. âyou could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!â he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you.Â
âlike i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,â you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, âno offense.âÂ
âmm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurinâs image doesnât mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,â umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. âbut! i figured iâd come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!âÂ
umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, rightâ?
âi just wanted to ask you to stop,â umemiya says. âi mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your worksâi remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the wayâandââ
huh?
âi really like your art! i was wondering, if maybeâŚâ
you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a momentâ
âdo you want to come to furin and paint? thereâs a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, thatâs coveredâand plus, at night, youâd still get a lot of time to do whatever you wantââ
â⌠youâre offering me a place at your school to justâpaint?â you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow.Â
âwell, yeah!â umemiya says. âi mean, itâs a waste to paint over your hard work, right? itâs different than the other tags.â
â... is it?â you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall.Â
âwell, iâm not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intentionâbut iâd like to think yours does! and itâs kind. and i think thereâs people at furin who might appreciate it.âÂ
âwellâŚâ
you sigh, running a hand through your hair.
âwell, okay,â you say. âbut if anyone tries to start somethingââ
âplease,â umemiya says. âweâre not animals. itâll be great to have you.â and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.
are you really doing this?
umemiyaâs expression is bright, warm.Â
you shake his hand.Â
his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumbâand you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiyaâs thrallâlured in by him like a sweet siren song.
âfine. see you tomorrow, then,â you mutter, your cheeks heating up.
simon swore up and down heâd never want kids, he was certain heâd end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, âlook at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? iâm tapped in the head, âts not fair to give a kid any of that.â as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.
years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. heâs gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.
not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.







he might be the love of my life

