#bus stop grafitti

[roseredsnow]

So if you followed me on the first Solarpunk Aesthetic week you may remember me posting that I'd made some stickers I'd used at the bus stop, and they were then unfortunate taken down.

So this time I've done something more permanent

There's more I want to do but it's a start and it's still there.

Trans rights are constantly under attack here in England, unfortunately I couldn't get some of my paints to work so the words aren't as clear as I'd like but I'll go over them at somepoint.

[gangviolets]

[guilttrippinmp3]

stupid, contagious

bullets!frank iero x gn!driver!reader // ~1.7k words

tags: fluff, comfort, established relationship, recreational drug use, shotgunning, early days my chem, soft/melancholy

a/n: title from 'punk rock 101' by bowling for soup !!

there was an abandoned bus stop outside of the dingy venue the band was playing that night. ray had pointed it out on the way in, mumbling how creepy it looked standing in the dark just outside the reach of the street lamps. you'd laughed, ready to joke about how there'd probably be some evil guy waiting for them there when the show was over, when you'd noticed frank's eyes all but glittering as he stared at the grafitti-covered structure. your laugh turned into a smaller, softer, but no less amused smile as you watched the gears turning in his head.

the show had barely come to an end, the last guitar riff still echoing throughout the basement that stunk of sweat and beer and hairspray, when frank turned his head to where you were standing off to the side of the stage. he was grinning when he tilted his head towards the exit, and you took that as your cue. you made your way out back to the van, glancing at the old bus stop to make sure there wasn't some guy in a trenchcoat lurking in the shadows. it didn't look like there was, but the whole thing was swallowed up by the shadows. you'd only be able to tell when you were closer.

you climbed into the back of the van, grabbing frank's backpack and the hoodie you'd left behind knowing it'd be too warm inside to wear. you pulled the hoodie tight around you and checked, then double-checked, that the van was locked before you walked through the parking lot to reach the bus stop by the side of the road. you threw frank's backpack up there first and then, with your foot on the metal frame where there must've once been a window and a bus schedule and numerous lewd words scratched in with house keys, you hoisted yourself up to sit on the roof of it, landing with a soft huff.

you swung your legs over the side, looking out towards the venue where the sound of the next band taking the stage was starting to leak out into the night air. you could hear the crowd of people packed into the basement cheering and jeering as they did their sound check, and you had no doubt that the guys would be leaning over the bar trying to talk their way into some free beers (and when that failed, shelling out the last of their cash for them). all of the guys except frank of course, who you spotted running across the parking lot, guitar case slung over his shoulder and lighter already in his hand. you smiled, rummaging around his backpack for the joint you'd rolled earlier when you'd stopped on the side of the highway for frank to piss.

"you like the show?" frank called up to you, laying his guitar case down on the old seating.

"fishing for compliments?" you teased, waiting impatiently for him to climb up next to you. he landed hard on his ass, groaning softly. you snorted, scrunching your nose and feigning disgust when he pressed up to your side. his skin was shiny with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead and temples. even his fingers, that were so skilled when they moved between chords and frets, were too slick to get a proper grip on his lighter, which he promptly dropped in your lap.

"y'know i am," he replied simply, leaning to press a wet kiss to your jaw.

"well... i thought you were gonna break your neck halfway through," you mused, placing the joint between his lips. you wiped the sweat off of his lighter with the sleeve of your hoodie before you managed to flick it on, the flame oddly steady, like the air here had come to a standstill just for the two of you. you held it up to frank's face until a cloud of smoke filled the space between you both, the sickly sweet scent of weed only just better than the sour sweet stench of beer you were starting to get used to breathing all the time. "and i'm surprised your vocal chords are still intact."

frank stifled a grin beside you, breathing in a lungful of fresh air atop the smoke he'd just inhaled. he passed the joint to you, laying down on his back as he breathed out. the smoke barely caught the light of the street lamps, curling into swirly shapes like frank was a cartoon dragon breathing fire out into the sky.

"and i think you've got something real special going on right now," you finished, keeping your voice low. you turned to look at frank as you smoked, loving the way he grinned up at you. you'd all talked about it a lot - about where this was going, about how everyone seemed to want to book the band, about how many people wanted to sign them, about the people showing up to tiny venues singing their hearts out to the music they'd written in basements and garages all the way back in new jersey.

most of the time it was enthusiastic or anxious talk, shared over coffee or beer or when the van was stopped at a red light and you realised that for what seemed like the hundredth time the gas tank was almost empty. but a lot of the time it was quiet talk like this, like if you had the nerve to say it too loudly the universe might hear and take it all away in the blink of an eye. your voice was heavy when you spoke next, throat straining around smoke.

"i think you're beautiful when you play."

frank was blushing as you lay down beside him, taking the joint from you and letting the sound of the other band's set take up the space your silence had left empty. you shuffled closer to him, resting your leg over his and letting him place a feverish hand on your hip, the warmth bleeding right through his skin and your clothes to reach your bones. it was too cloudy to see any constellations, but that fact didn't bother you.

so many nights this past year had been spent like this, in towns you'd never thought of visiting, staring up at the dark sky under the light of street lamps, fluorescent gas station lights, or the dim red-blue glow of convenience store signs. so many times you'd held up horoscope sections of gossip magazines to the vast navy blue, comparing the stars you saw to constellations printed on cheap paper and pointing them out to frank, who'd trace them with his pointer finger.

you didn't know how many of them you had left, until the band was big enough to afford hotel rooms and you'd be looking up at cracked ceilings or peeling wallpaper instead of the world that was slowly but surely starting to take notice of your presence. you were sure, though, that they were numbered, and you were going to make the most of every last one despite the odours you had to breathe in that cramped van, despite the aches in your bones from sleeping at odd angles, despite the growling in your stomach from never remembering when your last full meal had been. a cloudy sky wasn't nearly close enough to ruin the high washing over you like a tide coming to shore.

"cool, but am i hot when i play?" frank joked, giggling when you elbowed him in the ribs. "right, sorry."

he pushed himself a little more upright, face hovering over yours as he put the joint between your lips again and lit it for you. you sucked the smoke into your mouth, barely able to hold back a smile when frank removed the joint and replaced it with his lips, breathing the smoke from your mouth. wisps of it curled around his face as he pulled back to look at you, hazel eyes looking the features of your face up and down like he was searching the sky for familiar patterns of stars. then he shut his eyes and leaned in to kiss you, tasting of beer and cigarettes and high highs and low lows.

he kissed slow, like the joint wasn't still burning between his fingers. like there weren't at least a dozen boys and girls in that venue that would've scalped you to be in your place. like he hadn't just finished playing songs that turned your world inside out. you slid a hand up into his sweat-slick hair and tugged gently at the root, swallowing the soft groan he let out at the feeling.

you felt boneless when he flopped back down beside you, this time curling up on his side to press his face into your shoulder.

"you'd still come watch me play if i broke a bone? or fucked up my throat?" he asked, a smile audible in his voice. you lifted a hand to hold his head, fingertips resting on the pulse beating against his temple.

"yeah," you breathed, thinking that you'd still come watch him play if the world was ending. you kept that to yourself though, unsure that you could keep it quiet enough that the universe wouldn't hear. "that's not a green light though. i like you with your body intact."

"i know," he murmured, and you felt him smiling against your shoulder before he kissed it. "you'd still like me anyway."

he was right, but you didn't need to tell him that. you lit up one last time, knowing that soon the rest of the band would be stumbling out into the parking lot yelling both your names and ready to pass out in the backseats. you kept your fingers crossed that one of them had stayed sober the way they'd promised you, or else you'd all be waiting in the van for a few hours before you could drive anywhere. you traced the scorpion tattoo on frank's neck, still bright and stark against his skin, while his breaths evened out slowly against you.

"thanks for driving us," he mumbled, words slurring together as he grew sleepy. you smiled, turning to kiss the top of his head.

"anytime."

[barbietoiles]

Before i sleep i bring you punk au rambles. Still thinking about grafitti so grafitti focused <33

Richas is my vessel for the "chic rebellious hooligan spray painter" image. Denim jacket with stencil designs perhaps also embroidered over. Custom backpack for cans and stickers and stencils and its very cute. Custom made gloves from pacmike with love.

Pac taking richas to hang out with the artist group and they carry him on their shoulders to help him put tags up real high. They send richas in through small spaces (or, he honestly would do it on his own) to put sneaky little grafitti on closed off areas. They hang out in the park and do sketches and make stencils while having sandwiches.

People let the kids draw on their house outside walls (i like to also think if the au took place on quesadilla island, phil and missa would specifically built supports on the wall so the kids could cover it in murals). The bus stops are covered in pretty art. The local government loves this.

In the lab, whenever metal or wood needs to be sealed, mike pac and richas put fun designs on it with different coloured spray sealants. The whole lab is covered in paint in fact.

Richas also makes grafitti stickers, he and the other kids love putting them on everything. He also hands them out to adults, saying "Everyone can do the fun things we do if they have these!".

And of course richas keeps freaking his parents out with pulling stunts to put art in ridiculous places.

[mirroredranger]

She was back already. It felt like yesterday she left, but she knows it's been longer. Alola doesn't really change, does it? On the ride from the airport, Valerie accurately predicted three places where Skull had left grafitti. And of course, the bus stop sign was gone. Again. They still haven't replaced the stop light Ree took. (Maybe the city didn't actually need that light? Well, she's not going to snitch that it's sitting in her room at the Mav base or why it's there.)

A headbutt from Styler reminded Valerie that they were here for something. Right. She needed to go find the Kahunas. Who should she see first? Nanu last for sure. If she didn't go to him last, she was probably going to end up cat-sitting.

Finding herself at the edge of Hau'oli City, Valerie took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to space out. There was a reason the "Chairman" wanted Solgaleo and those two other things. And there had to have been a reason he sent the whole force to Alola. Either that golden chain or that golden orb were here.

Entering Iki town, Valerie instantly saw a familiar face. She smiled and waved at Hau. "Alola!"

@tapuhauko

[disappointedscientist]

i see the green light of online

its for once in my lifetime

i thought the same thing you did, i got the moment right

the ask button there

calling me, speaking to my desperation

saying press to be driven mad upon this rock wall

but i know i wouldnt want you to know it is me

i know i have nothing to say to you

i would shout it from rooftops

but i cannot look at you in the eye

there in writing from months ago

legions upon legions of craftsmen handmade my feelings for you

feelings i know you would never feel

but the only thing on my mind since as long as i can remember

you posted pictures again, of places no one should go to alone

i remember the place we sat down at

you told me it was your resting stop

beautiful vines just having changed color

abandoned building with old grafitti

its both the you ive made up on my mind

and the you i genuinely believe you are

i took picture as well but i dont remember what you looked like when i took them

i only remember you telling me to go home

i only remember finally accepting you hate me

i remember looking into the distance in the bus

my music turned up all the way but i still cant hear it

i thought about getting you a cd for christmas even though i knew i wouldnt see you

i dont know what i think anymore

as the light goes off something sinks in me

i feel i have just missed a train i have no ticket to

[radiates-confusion]

It's a sad day at the bus stop today.

The graffiti and such that gave it such character, has sadly been painting over. I'm gonna be honest, I'm hoping there's already some put back there next week, though I'm doubtful, because when I say it gives it character, I mean it. It shows people living, and interacting with the world.

We shall miss you, previous grafitti.

[wkaseke]

People Need To Get Picked Up

[mister-higgs]

LUCID INDIFFERENCE

[roseredsnow]

I swear to god I have never seen this many people go past this bus stop in such a short time frame as I have in the past five minutes.

Just let me do my grafitti

[studyingdisorderlyconduct]

chaotic academia

curled corners of word-filled notebook pages

music heard from an open dorm window

dim yellow light from a bus stop street lamp

a lively coffee shop conversation between two friends catching up

messy haired students crowding a single laptop, confused mutterings and frustrated gesticulations

coffee rings on a table bought second hand

fraying laces on a well-loved pair of shoes

a shelf swaying under the weight of books too numerous to fit properly

chemical stains on decades old lab benches

pencil grafitti on painted cinderblock walls

a purple twilight sky, early sunset tiredly acknowledged from the library's quiet study floor

[homotaschen]

art that makes me wrestle with my own heart while i search for peace with G-d

writing by ilya kaminsky // art by @heavensghost and poem by richard silken //  lyrics from “toba the tura” from razia’s shadow, by forgive durden // “the golem” by @clownblood  // lyrics from “the exit” from razia’s shadow, by forgive durden // ANIS MOJGANI x ALEXANDER HARDING ‘For Those Who Can Still Ride In An Airplane For The First Time’, spoken word, uploaded on Youtube on 20 Apr. 2009;Visible Light series (2010), photography // anonymous grafitti artist at a bus stop at  Clackamas college in Oregon, edit by  @hater-of-terfs

[barbietoiles]

Hi hi yes hello I'm just thinking at you. The whole subcultural connections is why an earlier passing thought of what about if they make somewhere in town graffiti is legal doesn't work. Because it's not just about the art, it's also about community and politics and relationship to property and a reclamation of space. Forcing graffiti into just the wall of one bridge sure means curious teens might stop tagging elsewhere, but not those for whom it is an expression of their beliefs ~Factorial

I dont live in an urban environment, but i would 100% be part of these communities if i did. My respect for them is immense, and id like to share some perhaps bittersweet stories.

I remember an occasion from long ago where a couple held a little event for artists to come and grafitti their walls (one wall? I for got specifics), on their legally owned property. It was overall a lovely experience and the end result was fun. But the local government still fined them for "damage of property" (they wouldve fined the artists but the couple took on the fine, if i remember correctly).

Even if this was mostly about the art, the effort which the couple put in to engage the community is so dear to me, and even my gran who doesnt like grafitti. I remember her cursing out the government, "how could they do this? How can they fine people for communal efforts"

My relative is a grafitti artist and he and his friend have made a mural on their property, its gorgeous, colourful and combining their two styles - chaotic geometry and chaotic freeflow. My godmother showed it to me while he was away. At the top of the wall where some drainage was broken, water was leaking and destroying the paint, and my godmother looked heartbroken while she explained how this is the only place they can do it, and even here they have a risk of getting into trouble. The mural faces the trees and only people who take the dog walking path have a chance of seeing it.

Ending on a happier story - theres a long wall that faces the highway at Vangažu city (Vangažu grafitti siena). Its a big backside of some garages. Grafitti artists i see in Riga, Sigulda and even at other places in Latvia all have gorgeous works on the wall, and its fully supported by the local government (they take pride in it too). A news outlet describes it as "a small, loud and colourful festival" and i love that description. When i traveled to and from home while in college it was a delight seeing it weekly. It changes often too.

A couple main-road bus stops in cities also have stylised grafitti with the city name.

I also started just thinking at you lol. Ithink here the grafitti culture is regarded in a mostly positive light by the average citizen, and it brings me joy. But i know its different elsewhere. Its heartbreaking that grafitti is considered as something only hooligans and criminals do (as if hooligans and criminals arent people who have value). And the other way around too - if you do grafitti youre a hooligan and criminal and any meaning and value you bring is now insignificant. I hope the perception changes soon.

[thelifeoflorna]

~10/7/2021~ Today has been a bit of a nothing day - had trauma-related nightmares last night 😰 Had to block this creepy guy on here as being bombarded by messages pressuring me for a response really wasn't helping when already feeling so overwhelmed 👎 Spent the morning playing Sims 👩‍💻 Then kept on getting stuck while attempting to get up and on with our day 🧊 Somehow managed to get through a whole mountain of washing up because I just couldn't stand to see it there any longer! 🤍 (Flat is a tip due to lack of PAs this week) 🤯 Decided to drag myself out on the bus to Uckfield - purely because it's the only place near me I hadn't been - there wasn't a lot to it tbh! Managed to sit in a costa for a bit and work on bullet journal 🏘☕ I've started messaging a couple of people again - attempting to drag myself out of my hole 😕 There were times when I was out when we felt okay. But this eve, once I stopped distracting myself (Sims again 🙈) - we just feel so much pain - younger parts are talking about how the bad man won't go to prison now - they don't understand - it all made so much sense to us before - we had it all mapped out 🥺💔😭 Did actually feel hungry for dinner this eve though so that's a positive 🍝 Going to try to have a bath now as it's cool enough, and do rock choir tutorial while in the bath as that's worked quite well before 🛀🎶 🦄 #instadaily #instablog #update #mentalhealth #dissociativeidentitydisorder #cptsd #autism #traumarecovery #edrecovery #anxiety #chronicillness #disability #pots #potsie #dysautonomia #positivevibes #recovery #brighton #streetphotography #graffitiart #grafitti #streetart #mural #walking #quirkyfinds #nature #natureseeker #naturelove #elephant #colourful (at Brighton) https://www.instagram.com/p/CRKTY6xpYKc-tAXKXUeT2xSCZNjnOSXYi2HNWw0/?utm_medium=tumblr

[drowning-in-dennor]

Fire and Ice

Leonor and Sula celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival together. [Happy early Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone!]

   Within Sula’s midnight-blue eyes, the lanterns glow gold.

   Lee Tung Avenue, bright and beautiful and practically glowing in the night, is alive. Everywhere Leonor looks, people are milling around under the ornate vermillion lanterns hanging from buildings, snapping photos. Hand holding hers, Sula stares at them with wide eyes, taking in the sight of what her first mid-autumn’s festival looks like.

   “They don’t have anything like this in Iceland, do they?”

   Sula shakes her head. “The closest we have is the midsummer’s eve festival. But that doesn’t even compare to this.” She drags Leonor towards an interesting-looking sculpture with childlike excitement, dodging families and groups of friends.

   Leonor smiles, trailing behind Sula as she stares up at the sculpture with a ghost of a smile, before bending down to run pale, slender fingers over the plaque, over Chinese characters that must seem ever so unfamiliar to her. Finally, when Sula straightens up, Leonor quips, “this is way better than Europe, huh?”

  She silences Leonor with a playful kick to the shin. “Oh, shush. It’s just…” she scans Lee Tung Avenue again, eyes alight with pure, unadulterated joy. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

   “Of course you haven’t,” Leonor teases, “it’s your first time in Hong Kong. By the way — ” she squeezes Sula’s hand “ — are you hungry?”

   No reply comes from Sula, and instead Leonor gets a blank stare. “We just had dinner half an hour ago.”

  “The perfect time for dessert.”

  “No way.”

  “Oh, come on.” It’s Leonor’s turn to drag Sula, towards a small egg tart shop just at the end of the Avenue. “You’ve never had real, authentic Hong Kong-styled egg tarts.”

  “I thought we were supposed to have mooncakes today.”

  “Those cost an arm and a leg.” She leads Sula into the shop. “And these egg tarts are so tasty, you’ll forget about mooncakes in an instant.”

  Sula snorts derisively and reaches for her wallet. “I doubt that.”

  “Not for long.” Leonor stills Sula’s hand before she can pull her wallet out. “And no paying. This can be my treat to you.”

  Still grumbling under her breath, Sula shakes her hand free and crosses her arms. Leonor, all too used to her antics, laughs and pays the shopkeeper for a pair of egg tarts. She hands one of them, greasy wrapper and all, to Sula. “Go on, try it.”

  Yelping in surprise at how hot the tart is, Sula covers her mouth after taking her first bite. And when Leonor finally stops snickering and she stops glaring, she says, “it’s amazing.”

  Leonor grins triumphantly as she takes a bite out of her own egg tart, letting the rich custard and flaky dough turn her giddy with bliss. “See, I told you.”

 “And I guess you were right,” she huffs, “but you don’t need to get another one. These are filling enough as is.”

  She pokes Sula’s cheeks and dodges before her red-faced partner can smack her hand away. “One day, maybe if your sisters visit Hong Kong with you, we can go to this amazing diner, right in the middle of the Avenue.”

  Sula points at a gaudy sign, bright and bold for all to see. “You mean there?”

  “Mmhmm.” Leonor tosses their egg tart wrappers away in a nearby trash-can. “Their food is so good, it might even serve something fit for your snobby palate.”

  Turning even redder and pouting, Sula demands, “take that back!”

  Leonor holds up her hands placatingly. “Just kidding, just kidding. But enough about food.” Rummaging in her backpack, she pulls out a pair of collapsible paper lanterns, painted with soft watercolour that resembles ink swirling in water. “Tonight would be meaningless without lanterns.”

  Accepting a candle from Leonor and placing it at the bottom of her azure lantern, Sula nervously strikes a match. “Won’t these just set the lantern on fire?”

  “I sure hope not.” Leonor lights up her own candle. “I mean, I’ve never seen them do that, so they probably shouldn’t. Now,” one hand holding her lantern, the other one extended towards Sula, she asks, “shall we go?”

  And so they walk, hand-in-hand again, little cages of lights swinging from their grasp. Home is not far, just a few steps away from tasteful sidewalk grafitti, bus stops that seat a few tired workers and stores just beginning to close.

  Leonor extinguishes the lanterns right outside their apartment complex, blowing smoke off the candles and scraping melted red wax off the bottom of the lanterns. She holds the door for Sula, much to their amusement, and on the elevator up to their apartment they lapse into easy conversation.

  Sula admires the painting on her lantern. “Today was amazing, Leonor. Where did you even get these lanterns?”

  “Oh, well, they’re sold practically everywhere in September,” Leonor replies, “no big deal. I’m glad you like them, though.”

   Her smile, wide and nothing like the slight curve of her lips at Lee Tung Avenue before, is one of the most beautiful things Leonor has seen. “I wish I could stay here forever.”

 “You will, once we both graduate from university.” The elevator doors open with a ding and they both step out, Leonor fumbling for the apartment keys. “That degree you want from the University of Iceland won’t take long.”

 “I’ll miss you, once I have to go back.”

 “Hey, why are you suddenly so downcast?” Leonor pushes the door open and turns to Sula. “You’ll be back for Christmas, which is, like, only three months away.”

 “Yeah, but you won’t forget about me, will you?” Sula asks, “not while I’m gone?”

 Lacing their fingers together, Leonor says resolutely, “hey, I thought of you every day since I left Iceland all those years ago. Three measly months won’t do anything to us. Today’s a day we’ll always hold in our hearts, isn’t that right?”

 She takes Sula’s warm, elated embrace as a firm yes.

[shoe32]

Somewhere in Athens