the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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alone with you, take two
Wally Darling x Reader
Warnings: jealous wally, frustrating neighbours, mwah mwah kissy smooches!!
although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #11 :)
Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.
“Hun, would you mind helping me with these treats please?”
Your attention was drawn away from Wally, once again.
It was a Friday night, and the neighbourhood was gathered for their weekly get together, of course. Lots of eating, game playing, and mingling going on.
You left Wally’s side, assuring him you would be right back, off to assist Poppy with whatever it was she needed.
Wally blew out an irritated huff.
And this get together seemed to mean he barely got to steal any of you for himself.
Everyone was taking you left and right. ‘Hey, come play a game with us!’ ‘Would you help me set these up?’ ‘Come take a look at this!’ No matter what, it was one thing or another, back to back to back.
Now, despite having quite a way with words, Wally still didn’t know how to use them, at times.
Occasionally, he didn’t know how to ask for things, particularly when it comes to a new challenge he's unsure of how to approach. He just… didn’t. So, what would he do instead?
He would stare.
And he would stare.
And he would stare.
He would stare, until the other person picked up on his silent plea for assistance. Or, until it will have been long enough where he figures it out himself.
This was the predicament you were in now. Although, unfortunately for Wally, you were still yet to notice you were in any sort of predicament at all.
He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He almost couldn’t complain, because it provided an extra good excuse to look at you. At the same time, he was getting frustrated, because how haven’t you realized yet?
Well, actually, maybe you had. But, whenever it seemed like you were going to inquire, someone stole your attention away, which would irk Wally just a little bit more.
It’s happened multiple times now. By just about everyone. Twice, by most! Were they doing it on purpose, at this point? Wally was beginning to question.
For now, Wally watched and waited. And watched and waited. And watched and waited. Until finally, you were finished helping Poppy and on your way back over to him. So, he seized his opportunity.
“Would you—” he began, only to be cut off.
“Hey pipsqueak! Come play a quick round with Eddie n I!”
If looks could kill, Barnaby would’ve been dead where he stood.
“Deal me in, too!” Howdy raised a hand, making his way over to the table, stretching his other arms and cracking his knuckles with confidence.
“Do you get one or two hands, with two sets of arms?”
“Actually,” you glanced at Wally, looking over at the group again. “Give him two! He can play for me, I’ll hop in later,”
“Which hand do you wanna be, kiddo?”
“Uh… top? Cause I’m on top, y’know?”
Howdy sniggered.
“Okay, I’ll give you the bottom hand.”
“Jeez. Ask me for my fancy, just to ignore it,” you clicked your tongue in amusement, looking at Wally. He gazed back at you, eyes hopeful. Was he finally getting your attention? All to himself? “What did you want to say, sorry?”
Wally sighed with relief. Finally!
“Would you li–”
“Starlight! Won’t you come join Julie and I’s game?” Sally called out to you.
Nope.
Wally had it.
As you opened your mouth to reply, Wally took you by the hand, answering for you.
“Later.”
His tone was sharp and curt as he stormed toward the door, leading you behind him.
No more distractions.
Wally pulled you along, pausing briefly at the exit and looking at you, ensuring you were fine with this. Your eyes met his, and although surprised and confused, you understood the silent question and gave him a nod to go on.
The two of you stepped outside, walking briskly into the cool night. A sigh of relief left Wally, glad to finally be away from his beloved although slightly infuriating neighbours. When he decided the two of you had wandered far enough, he slowed his pace, sucking in a breath of the refreshing air. He looked at you to apologize for being so brash, only to pause.
You were staring at him, a grin growing on your face.
“Is this what I think it is?” you questioned him. His brows furrowed in puzzlement.
“Were you getting jealous in there, Wally?”
He gaped at the accusation. Jealous? Him? He opened his mouth to shut it down, only to hesitate.
Was he jealous?
His cheeks heated as realization hit him. He gaped like a fish, trying to think of a reasonable defense for himself, to no avail.
“... they were doing it on purpose,” he could only claim, deflating.
“They were being quite rude, weren’t they?” you empathized with a giggle. “I’m sorry,”
“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, sure of that much. “But they kept pulling you away, this way and that way. I think that I was deserving of a turn,”
“Well, no matter, now we are alone,” you smiled. “No more interruptions. What would you like, Wally?” you asked him.
He blanked.
Right.
The reason he wanted your attention in the first place.
Wally’s head dipped down shyly, his fingers gently toying with your own.
How does he say it?
He returned his gaze back to your eyes. You were waiting patiently for him to speak. No rush at all. You never did.
“I wanted to step outside with you,” he said, speaking slow as he took the time to figure out his words.
“I wanted to spend some time away, just you and I,” he continued. “Everyone was demanding your attention, but I wanted some for myself. That sounds quite selfish now that I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” He mumbled.
“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all,” you begged to differ. “I think that you have a right to desire some extra attention from me. We are together, after all. And, that being said, you are my top priority,”
“As you are mine,” Wally nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.
“So, you just wanted to spend some time together?” You hummed softly, smiling at him. “I always quite like that idea,”
“Well, not quite…” he trailed along sheepishly, looking down at your interlocked hands.
“What would that be, Darling?”
“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.
“To kiss me?”
He nodded.
“Well, why don’t you, then?”
He peeked up at you.
“... might I?”
“Of course,” you giggled.
“… now I’m nervous,” he uttered bashfully, gazing downward as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. You grinned in amusement, leaning closer to him.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” You whispered, placing your finger under his chin to redirect his attention to you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, gazing into yours as he licked his dry lips.
“Please?” He murmured out.
With a smile, you tilted his chin up a bit more, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his in a sweet, short kiss. He went a little rigid before he relaxed into it, though he didn’t have quite enough time to reciprocate before you moved to break the kiss.
As you began to pull away, his hand found the side of your neck, not ready for you to leave just yet. He led you back in before you went too far, his lips met yours once again, bringing you in for another kiss, slow and loving.
Moments later, Wally pulled away, more content this time. He gazed at you, any hint of his prior frustration nowhere to be seen anymore, nothing but a look of fondness left remaining in his eyes. He studied you, from your flushed cheeks to your small smile, meeting your equally love filled eyes.
“Are you satisfied now?” You asked with a light teasing tone, rubbing at your warm cheek as if it would make your embarrassed blush fade away. Wally clicked his tongue, glancing towards the noisy home down the way.
“Mmm, I’m not sure…” he hummed with a playful tone, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.
“I think that I deserve you for some time more. How does another kiss sound to you? Then, maybe I’ll be satisfied,”
hi! hello! did i scare you? i'm back from the dead to offer you this! i hope that you enjoyed! burnout is real, bahaha! if you are new, i have some other fics along these lines you can read as well!
here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!
also!!! ART!!! people made art based on my fics!!! MIND BLOWING!!! check them out, super duper cool!
@leon-dechino created this one and this one! SO cool, mind boggling, makes me so happy gavhxsah
@sunkyss created this one! AHHH! so wild man, i still can't believe it bahaha! i highly suggest you check both of them out! they have so many cool works on top of these!
alas! 'tis all for now! i hope to see you soon! MWAH! until next time <3
Posted Wednesday, June 7, 2023 at 2:07 PM
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
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