if you’re grey-ace, you’re allowed to reblog posts about being asexual that you relate to even if they’re not specifically about grey-asexuality
if you’re grey-aro, you’re allowed to reblog posts about being aromantic that you relate to even if they’re not specifically about grey-aromanticism
if you’re grey-aroace, you’re allowed to reblog posts about being aroace that you relate to even if they’re not specifically about being grey-aroace
if you’re in any way grey a-spec and id with other terms (gay, lesbian, bi, pan, etc), you’re allowed to reblog posts about being gay/lesbian/bi/pan/whatever even if they’re not specifically stating they’re for grey a-specs
sometimes as a grey a-spec it’s hard to really fit in and it can feel like you’re always on the outside of the ace and aro communities and any other communities for other labels you id with, but you’re allowed to participate in them! you’re allowed to reblog these posts. you’re allowed to find them relateable. you’re not stepping on anyone’s toes or hurting anyone or swerving out of your lane by doing this.
grey a-specs belong just as much as anyone else, please don’t listen to that little voice in your head telling you that you don’t. ✨
It’s that time of year again. Let’s get it my funky, little aros and nifty, little arospecs!
Check out @aromantic-official for history of asaw and prompts for each day! Responses to the prompt are tagged #ArosAndArrows and #BeingAromanticIs
[image description: one square with the aro flag as the bacground. Text is on each stripe of the flag. The stripes read: arospec, awarness, week, feb 16 - feb 22, #ASAW2020 #arospecawarnessweek. The text colors are black, dark green, light green, white, and grey respectively for each stripe. End description.]
*there was a brief correction of the end day from feb 20 to feb 22*
it’s difficult, it’s all just so difficult in a way that doesn’t quite make sense.
we go out to get something to eat together and there’s moment
after moment where i look at your hands or make you laugh and all
i want is more of it, more of those little moments and more,
your eyes on me, my head on your chest,
fingers moving deftly around a knife in a kitchen flooded with light,
something warm and soft and full that stings in a pleasant sort of way.
and it should be easy, i’ve always liked a little blood, always liked
the way a knife glints, always liked how it hurts when people turn away.
but it’s something different altogether, the scene’s washed in
some different kind of light. the actors are moving the same way,
we’re moving the same way, but everything is washed in red and crimson
instead of yellows and blues like it usually is, everything screams
danger and panic and grief, and it’s not familiar. it’s all wrong.
the knife raises and raises and then falls, and halfway down i can
see how it’ll all turn out, see the reflection in the camera lens, and it’s what i always wanted;
a hand reaching out to a flame and getting burned, then recoiling,
something glass and fragile being dropped from a height and shattering,
destruction and desolation and isolation and failure,
all these things i usually wanted, destruction just the way i liked it,
so why is everything crimson? where’s the horror movie soundtrack coming from?
fine, let’s change the scene. we’re on a road trip and i’m driving even
though my hands tremble on the wheel and you’ve got the radio cranked up
and you’re laughing and tossing an energy drink at me
and you look beautiful in the golden hour light and suddenly i’m hitting the brakes
and pulling off to the side of the highway because the gold shifted to crimson again.
this shouldn’t be difficult. it isn’t for everyone else.
they’ve always said it’s what makes us human. so why is it so difficult?
the director shouts again, again from somewhere and the scene shifts once more.
i’m sitting in a room illuminated by a screen your name is on and your voice is
in my ears and i’m laughing, and you’re laughing, and everyone is laughing.
you must notice that something is off because you remind me that you love me, that i’m a great friend,
but suddenly my hands are shaking again, over the keys now, and i hope
you don’t notice how unsteady my voice is when i laugh back at you,
that you don’t notice how the blood seeps out from the hollow of my chest
and trails down my ribcage, each beat twisting the knife a little more.
once more, with feeling, as if just saying that doesn’t wrench open the wound again.
we’re sitting under an old magnolia at the edge of my yard, secluded and rural.
you could scream and no one would hear you, you tell me,
and so i scream, and keep screaming, til my throat’s raw and
everything comes out red and half-gurgled. i scream and you look at me
and hold out a magnolia blossom, and we lie there together under the branches
in the hot july heat, waiting for the bad feelings to be chased away,
the knife cast away and left to rust in the tall grass somewhere else.
but that’s still not right.
but now i’ve pushed too hard and something’s wrong with the lighting on set,
crimson to green and grey and white, everything’s flashing and it’s hard to think,
and i think i see someone’s face, and i think they’re good and lovely and beautiful,
but everything is flashing and i can’t be sure, because everything is flashing
and my head is pounding and it’s too difficult to put a name to it.
what i’m feeling must be fear, but which kind? what i’m feeling
must be panic, but in what way?
when i see their face, am i afraid because i want something normal and friendly?
when i see their face, am i afraid because i want something else?
i keep trying to ask but the lights keep flashing and nobody answers.
this page of the script is blank and the director is shrouded in shadow and unresponsive.
tell me, which is it? is it love or not? can i feel love or not? can i be loved or not?
but there’s nobody working on set and i don’t know how to make the lights stop flashing.
the way they blend into each other, the way the crimson always finds a way to peek through the rest,
the way it’s all so overwhelming and god damn it’s so hard to think.
it’s supposed to be what makes us human. how are you supposed to know?
how can anybody know when it’s like this? are the lights flashing for everyone else?
fondness either grows or festers, then it’s shoved into my arms
and i have to figure out what to do with it. how am i supposed to know what it even is when the lights keep flashing?
i want to have someone, i want to be certain,
i want the scene to be holding hands in a well-lit room instead of being blind in the dark,
i want light, and i want gold, and i want the bad feeling to stay away.
-
hi, i’m ic and i’m grey-aromantic.
i’ve been feeling and thinking a lot about what that means to me lately, and figured that valentine’s day is as good a day as any to make a bit of that public, partly because i know i appreciated reading about other people’s experiences when i was trying to figure shit out, and partly because i’ve had this on my mind for so long that i kinda just want to share it.
until recently, i never had crushes. as a kid, i always figured i’d have a high school sweetheart, or find someone who makes me nervously excited with just a look eventually. and then i didn’t. for a while i thought i was aromantic, but when i found the term grey-aromantic (or grayro), something just clicked. here was a word for what i’d been feeling, or maybe what i hadn’t been feeling. here was validation for never having dated or had a crush, for feeling drawn to people but being uncertain regarding whether it was platonic or not, for having such a strange relationship with relationships.
a little over a year ago i started reading up on grey-aromanticism and felt that click. i finally stopped lying and telling myself i was completely aromantic (which was partly because of low self-esteem and partly because i’d never had a crush, which isn’t to say that aromantics are invalid because they’re just sad, not at all; that was merely my experience), and told myself that if i felt drawn to someone, i’d genuinely explore it instead of shutting it down like i had before.
onemaybe-a-crushand oneprobably-almost-certainly-a-crush later and my perspective has changed a bit, especially after the former. it made me realize that a significant part of me, in spite of all the anxiety and self-image issues, actually wants a partner. which sounds lame but as someone who spent a long time convincing myself i’d never have or deserve that, it feels nicer than i expected.
so yeah. happy valentine’s day, especially to my ace/aro spectrum folks. you’re not broken, no matter what a holiday might try and claim.
For anyone confused, the difference between greyro and aroflux is that aroflux has a better flag
I love how no one is mad because it’s the Truth™
The aroflux flag is basically the psychedelic version of the aro flag while the grey aro one is like,, grey
I was expecting someone to correct me but everyone must’ve just looked at the flag and gone “hrrrnnnng watemeln prety” and moved on. That or there is no real difference between the labels.
ASAW Fandom Challenge Day 3 - Grey-Aromantic Headcanons I have two of these - one from a fandom I haven’t touched writing-wise in a long time but that I’m pretty stoked about!
Tycho Celchu (Star Wars Legends) - As I wrote in this fic, Tycho identifies as grayro - that’s what he would say if he was asked his orientation - but he’s also aroflux. He considers the microlabel less important since the romantic attraction he feels is so rare anyway. He’s only ever felt it twice - once for Nyiestra, which made losing her extra devastating since he was never sure he would be able to have that kind of relationship with someone again, and now for Wedge. He was very nervous to explain to Wedge that even though he feels romantic attraction for him, the level can vary from day to day - from Tycho feeling almost allo to being outright romance repulsed. He was so relieved and delighted, though, when Wedge was 100% ready to support him and do his own research to make sure he understood and quite simply returned his affections and decided wholeheartedly he wanted to give this relationship a try as well. Tycho is also sure to point that his identity as arospec is still very important to him regardless of currently feeling attraction and being in a relationship.
Marius Pontmercy (Les Miserables) - This one’s less developed, but I’m very into the idea of grayro Marius. I think this makes sense as to why he’s just so overcome when he falls for Cosette - he’s never felt this kind of attraction before. He’s never been in love. He’s been hearing his friends extol its virtues for years and wondered if it would ever happen to him, and now here it is, and it’s so strong. (He’s possibly arospike as well, though if it’s canon, he wouldn’t have these words.) Even Grantaire points out how unusual this show of feeling is - “Is Marius in love at last?”
