Often do I wonder...

Those are actually not spiky feathers at all! They sure do look like it, though, and that's likely the point- if I were a raptor looking down upon a pincushion, I would think twice about grabbing it with my bare feet.

However, it's a ruse! Just a marking on a feather

A Pokemon only counts for itself, not its evolution line.

A Pokemon with multiple forms (like Zygarde) will only be counted for the specified form. A Pokemon with multiple appearances (like Spinda, Vivillon, Sylvally, etc.) count for all their appearances.

AN: I'm writing a series of short stories featuring a character very dear to my heart, using an adapted Thoth tarot deck to give me "prompts," as they are. This is the first one. They aren't meant to be polished; they're meant to be productive play, helping me to rebuild my confidence in writing again--and to have fun! Still, I would appreciate constructive feedback if you have any to offer! I would love to use these as a learning opportunity. With that said, I hope you enjoy the scattered bits and bobs of the life of one Erin Yeates, a sort of "Dorothy at 40," if you will.

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Most people are pretty stubborn by nature, I reckon. Teenagers, especially—you tell them not to do something, and they're immediately putting their limited brainpower to use at figuring out how, exactly, they can. Well, and your old folks; they've gotten set in their ways, and God help anyone who tries to move them. Hell, even your average, every-day Joe settles into a routine, and getting them to deviate from it is like a farmer trying to move a river to water the fields: it just ain't gonna happen, unless nature forces it.

I think, perhaps, I might be an outlier even then. Most people are pretty stubborn, sure. I don't know how many are "hold on to a strange dream and insist it was real for thirty years, come hell and high water—and forced hospital stays" stubborn.

We like to believe in stories. Sometimes, they're everyday ordinary lies we tell ourselves to help us get through the day. Things like, "we can generally trust the government not to assault us for no reason," and "this store is definitely donating these charitable donations in whole to the charity they've identified on their little kiosks," or even "my wife absolutely still loves me even though we haven't really talked to each other like human beings for the past decade." Sometimes, they're the big stories we hear in myths and read in books. They're fun. A lot of times, stories hold us through the worst times in our lives in the ways that reality simply isn't able or willing to.

But damn if you don't get looked at like an absolute moron for insisting that some stories are actually more real than we'd like to think. Say it long enough and loud enough while causing enough trouble for people who don't want to deal with you, and you get hauled off to padded rooms and non-slip slipper socks and lots of medicine that keeps you calm and quiet until you learn to say "yes sir" and "no sir" and "you're definitely correct, the things I lived through were definitely all in my head."

The thing is.

If it really was all in my head.

How come I still have the scars?

and I have to come up with an answer every time. "Because you're here. Because you're excited about that new book. Because your hold is almost in from the library. Because your cat would be sad. Because you haven't petted every creature yet. Because you haven't tasted every flavor yet."

sometimes I don't have an answer. but still I persist. it feels, at times, like being an ox chained to a heavy plow. my legs are strong. and honestly, the burden isn't that heavy. but sometimes the yoke chafes. sometimes the clank of harness is aggravating to the point of infuriating. sometimes the plodding pace gets so monotonous that I just want to toss my head and swing my horns around and break it all--but that wouldn't be fair, either.

There was this one person who had their own website on angelfire or geocities I think that wrote a lot of really really compelling final fantasy fanfiction; the one I remember the most was an FF7 fic that was about the cast basically putting on the FF7 play/movie, and it was mostly about the Sephiroth actor falling in love with the Aerith actor, and it was just absolutely mind altering for young me.

And then... this one I only half remember; it wasn't that long ago, but it was... I think an occultist and writer who had their own personal pantheon? And who did a big writing thing every year that was something like The King's Road or the King's Ride or something and I was super duper into it but this was during the time that I was out of my mind with anxiety and can't remember anything except as a blur. I feel like I remember them kinda disappearing, and I was upset, but I honestly don't remember. Wish I could find them again, their stuff was incredibly cool and inspiring.

I can't remember the protagonist's original name with certainty, only that it was something similar to Hilga. She didn't have the best relationship with the village prior and got a whole added perspective on how the others viewed her once they assumed she was lost and dead. Oh also like, Hiccup, Toothless and crew were just, superbly in character (as far as I can recall) and of course obsessed about another night fury and trying to understand it and there was a lot of dodging about really not wanting it known that she was she and not a real dragon also please stop (I just remember all the reasoning making A Lot of sense. And really good Identity suffering.)

anyway she was like a grey colour rather than proper black and got dubbed a Dusk Fury by the dragon nerd bc ofc he would - and he was ribbed appropriately for it - and there was just really good gradual friendship building between MC and Hiccup, Toothless and Astrid (others too but they were the key trio)

I remember MC being very against being given a name and kept refusing to accept one (she could write in the dirt and yielded to communicating that way after a while, but that knowledge and her total understanding of language was kept between the main group only) because she had one and it was hers but absolutely did not want to share that obviously

She couldn't fly for many chapters because that was hard and very scary when you were not born to that ability or have fine control over whole new limbs and whatnot and it contributed to her jokingly getting called Wingless at one point and that ended up sticking (very offended at first, but I remember reasoning was explained and she warmed up to it over time)

happy hallowed ween from your local potion seller……

I meant more to talk about how when you’re aro, there’s this whole side of relationships, those that are lauded as the « most powerful bonds » that you don’t have access to. You’re effectively barred from getting to close to people you know? How must it feel, to know yourself secondary in all relationships? If all you can have are friends, how do you cope with the expectation that all those friends could leave you to live with a partner?

And when you’re ace, especially when otherwise queer (like, being transfem), you have to reckon with the fact that no matter what, there’s a facet of socializing that you can’t access. This goes into relationships too, of course. What do you do with partners that expect some degree of sexual reciprocation? What do you do, when flirting, playing with desire, is so common in your community? Do you just accept you’ll be isolated from your peers in a tangible way? Is that even something you can accept?

I can’t claim these are the worst things the world does, nor to have solutions. But, when connecting with people, and doing so deeply and fully is predicated on relating with them, sexually or romantically, and you can’t do that. What do you do?

I get invited fewer places because all of my friends are couples. They do couples things now. I don't have a partner to share my burdens with, to help me manage all the labor that comes with just being alive, or keep me company.

All my friends and old classmates and acquaintances are all planning these big, shared lives, and I'm wondering how I'm ever going to make it. It doesn't matter how many friends and ace/aro person has, or how close they are with their family, or any of those other things. Sometimes, it's still Just Me.