#aro

[natequarter]

[guy who is aromantic voice] sexual attraction just makes more sense than romantic attraction. like ok, you want to fuck someone. this is quantifiable. it is quite easy to grasp what "i want to fuck someone" looks like, even if you have no idea what it feels like. romantic attraction, though? this is a nebulous construct which seems to largely be "glorified friendship with sex" in the popular imagination. what even is the difference between friendship and romance? the line between friendship and sexual attraction, though both can coexist, is that when there's sexual attraction present, you want to fuck someone. the line between friendship and romantic attraction, so far as i can perceive it within a heteronormative, amatonormative framework, is that it is... friendship where you want to fuck someone. what?

[heaven-in-a-wild-flower]

I completely agree with this. It's the same difficulty in explaining ace-ness or aro-ness to non aro/ace people. Because how am I supposed to explain an absence of a feeling to you when you can't explain the presence of a feeling. It infuriates me how non aro/ace people expect me to explain what the lack of sexual attraction feels like and how it is different from romantic attraction because honestly how can I compare when I don't know how one thing feels at all. And I've often had people ask whether I miss the feeling but how could I miss something I never had? And why would I choose to feel bad about it knowing that that's just the way I was made. If I'd never met a non aro/ace person, I would've never even thought to think that there was something missing in me. So don't let anyone make you feel bad for not having some feeling, because it isn't an emptiness, it's just a place to put other good things.

Trying to figure out if you’re ace or aro can be so goddamn hard because it’s like, trying to find the absence of something. Imagine you’re at a pond and you want to know if there are any turtles, or fish. Say you find a turtle and you’re like “great! Now I know there are turtles.” Or a fish, now you know for sure there are fish. Or you find both, and now you know for a fact there are both turtles and fish in the pond.

But like, if you don’t find any turtles it might be that there are no turtles or maybe you’re just really shitty at looking for turtles and maybe you THINK you saw a turtle over there or maybe it was just a stick. Maybe there are only a few turtles. Maybe you need to do something special to find the turtles. Maybe a bunch of these rocks are actually turtles but you couldn’t tell them apart. Maybe there are no turtles. You have no idea. Meanwhile some people are saying “Oh there have to be turtles! You’ll find them eventually ;)” or “How many turtles have you found in your pond?” or “Try planting some vegetables at the shore to attract the turtles.” Or “Oh no! What disaster happened to your pond that there are no turtles?” And you’re just standing there wet with an empty net and a tired expression.

But whatever because whether there are turtles or fish or not your pond’s ecology works just fine without them because that’s what eco-communities do they form a system around what they have. You aren’t missing anything if you don’t have turtles you just have a pond system without turtles. If someone tried to change you by pouring a bunch of turtles into your pond it would probably fuck something up.

So you don’t have to be entirely sure. You don’t have to search every inch of the damn pond before you can decide there are probably no turtles. If you want to take the aro or ace label because you think it fits go for it. And if you do find your turtles you can rename the pond. That’s fine.

[premiumaabatteries]

How it feels to be in the fandom of a show about friendship :

[aromantic-diaries]

It's easier to accept that you're aromantic once you understand that what you want isn't romance per se and it's really the companionship that appeals to you. I never actually liked the thought of being in a relationship but I liked the thought of being important to someone

[natalinova]

"being queer is about love" hmm actually being queer is about defying societal norms about gender and sexuality and does not depend on feeling love at all

[m0rem0rris]

"aroace ppl can still date and fuck!!! They're normal people" this is so accurate, like... Aroace people are already normal people. They don't need to date or fuck to be normal.

Though from my experience it's a lot easier to avoid nsfw/sexual media involving a character than it is to avoid shipping/romantic media involving a character. Like, with an asexual character I feel like most of the time I see people respecting that side of it, probably because I don't actively look for nsfw of an asexual character. But with aromantic characters people lose their fucking minds. Aromantic characters are never allowed to just be aro they have to be aro-spec or experience some romantic attraction or have the "one exception".

This isn't me trying to say "oh aros have it harder than aces" I'm just saying that people are a lot more willing to at least try and understand/respect asexuality than they are aromanticism. Especially when a lot of these fandoms are full of kids who think sex is gross anyways. Which is honestly just how society is, people don't like talking about sex, it's taboo, yet they still say you have to have it, but just don't talk about it because that's inappropriate, but also if you don't have sex or don't want sex you're not normal or not human. You're shamed but only if you bring up sexuality or someone else brings up sexuality. With romance it's not "inappropriate" to talk about, so it's harder to avoid people talking about it or shoving it down your throat. Especially in fandoms where, it seems like, the only way people show their love for a piece of media is shipping or involving the canon relationships.

The funniest part is there's non-romantic intimate relationships that they can research into to put these characters into, if they so desperately want to pair an aromantic character with another. They could be in a qpr, a passionate friendship, a semiship, a senseship, and probably more I can't think of.

Final side note though, this problem is absolutely dominated by the Hazbin Hotel fandom. Like I said before, most nsfw content of an asexual character can be avoided but with HH it is borderline impossible to not find (at the least) borderline sexual or just straight up nsfw of the only asexual character, Alastor. That fandom is overflowing with a-phobes, people absolutely cannot accept Alastor as asexual. (Even though I do think Alastor is the stereotype of "ooo this evil character is so evil and heartless they're aroace!" But whatever he's still asexual) the problems with his aromantic identity mostly just stem from miscommunication/confusion about if he's actually aromantic or just asexual but I'm pretty sure even if he was confirmed aromantic the fandom wouldn't care.

This kinda just turned into a vent but I'm so tired of fandom spaces, I basically don't interact with like... Any fandoms now, because I'm so sick of everything always having to involve shipping and romance. Like I said, avoiding nsfw is easy, but romance is harder.

the way fandoms are desperate to make all aroace characters romance and sex favorable but then dont do anything remotely similar to any other identity is astounding. hmm i wonder why

PLEASE dont derail this about shipping characters of other identities please let this one post be about an aroace struggle

[bugstabu]

Happy Pride Month! Today i offer you: aspec knights. Choose your fighter.

I also had idea for anattractional monarch but i never finished it

[sirompp]

hi. i made some images.

feel free to take them and use for whatever you may need them for. no credit required

[morally-earl-gray]

mfs be like "are you single or taken" and like technically im single but that implies that im availible, which i most definitely am not so yes im taken. im taken by me. you cant have me.

[trisockatops]

This still needs editing, but I also wrote a response to this post. I'm just posting it below, but it also has its own post here. Before I share it, I want to point out some other responses on the post, in case anybody is in search of aro stories to read.

@4bsurdcreature wrote a chilling piece here on this reblog, especially tackling the part of the prompt where other people act super invalidating of MC's feelings regarding what's happening.

@medicatedcountertop wrote something happier here on this reblog for those that need the happy ending about the object of affection having an extremely validating response.

My own story is a rather bittersweet take on this. I apologize for the tense switching. I was also originally planning on a much older MC, but I decided to submit this for a writing sub that was after a younger character. I also wrote like 2k words more than the limit. I am tempted to go back to this and try it out with my older MC and not worry about a word limit.

......................................................................................

Turning eighteen was supposed to be an exciting day. We were celebrating me making it to legal adulthood and the start of a new chapter in my life. I was going to have a small party with some family and friends at a local park with my favorite cake. My older relatives were going to give me cheesy, corny advice on how to be an adult and be true to myself. My friends were going to rib me and hype me up. I was going to eat up every single moment of it. Instead, the day I turned eighteen ended up being the worst day of my life. It was the day I fell in love.

His name is Wyatt Cardwell. He is friendly and always has a smile for anybody he meets. He plays soccer and nerdy card games. He does well in school. Any parent would feel good if he was the one their kid introduced as their date. Being on the taller side with sharp cheekbones and clear skin with his modern haircut also meant a good portion of the students did want to date him. If I were anybody but me, falling for Wyatt Cardwell would have been completely normal. Maybe even a rite of passage.

I, however, am - or thought I was - aromantic. I’ve never had anything I could even confuse for a crush before. More than that, I’ve never wanted to. I’d known since I was in fifth grade and cooties tag was a thing and my best friend Char always made our dolls get married regardless of how annoying I tried to make my character that I didn’t want any of that. Marriage was fine for boring old people like my parents, but I was never going to be boring or domestic like that. The next few years of comparing myself to my peers just cemented it for me. Sure, I was as interested in sex as the next horny teenager, but dating? It seemed to make people I previously respected into drooling mannequins who seemed to make their crush their entire personality.

Char and I had struggled when she started dating, and I didn’t. After months of passive-aggressive fighting, we walked away with the understanding that we simply liked different things and neither of those things was inherently wrong. We do our best to be respectful of these differences, but I’ve heard plenty from my parents, grandparents, random classmates, and even a teacher once. If I can come around and respect that others enjoy a seemingly repulsive activity, why can’t they at least respect my disinterest in it?

Yet here I am. I’ve fantasized about Wyatt before, of course. What’s happening now is different. Instead of the throbbing I’ve come to associate with being turned on, I have butterflies in my stomach. I always thought Char was pulling my leg on that one. Instead of imagining Wyatt stroking and licking me, I’m daydreaming about him carrying my books and casually draping his arm across my shoulder and walking me to my next class. I’ve even written and deleted a dozen meaningless, desperate messages to an account of his that I don’t even have added as a contact. It feels exactly like every movie where people fall in love. It feels exactly like what Char described to me. It’s been a mere day; it’s been like getting hit by a truck. One moment, everything was fine. The next: disaster.

My chest hurts. I feel like exploding. Even experiencing it for myself, I cannot fathom why Char likes this feeling. It feels so wrong, like a parasite has wormed its way into my brain and is taking me over, controlling me. I feel…violated. My hands itch to claw through my aching chest and rip my heart out and tear it into pieces. Instead, I dig my knuckles into my eyes and physically hold back the tears threatening to burst forth. My throat tightens. Great. A panic attack is impending.

And then I do explode. I scream. I cry. I gasp. I heave. Nails dig into my scalp and yank my hair. My body contorts and writhes. My pain given physicality. I dissolve into hyperventilation for several minutes. The resulting lightheadedness finally forces me to stop, slow down, and breathe deeper and slower. I sob and tap my fingers against the ground, counting as I do. I gasp and wipe my eyes. My party is in an hour. I need to talk with Char first. I need someone who understands.

Char lives right down the street from me, and nobody thinks anything of me popping by to go spend time with her before we head to the park for my party. I knock sharply on her front door, which quickly swings open to reveal Char’s mom, Mrs. Lucy. “Happy birthday, dear!” Mrs. Lucy’s face splits into a grin when she sees me. “Charlotte is right upstairs, still getting ready.” She stands aside to give me room to enter.

“Thanks, Mrs. Lucy,” I reply, dragging a small grin out of the depths of my misery to spare for her. Mrs. Lucy is good people, and if I let on to her that I’m distraught, she’ll put everything aside to try and comfort me. Right now, all I want is Char. She’s the one I’ve talked to the most about all of this, and above all else, she’s my best friend. We used to call each other soulmates before we got too old and people started thinking that meant we were dating. Char has the best chance of anyone of helping me through this.

I slide past Mrs. Lucy and head towards Char’s bedroom. I’ve been known to spend a couple hours on an intense makeup look before, but most of what I do is fun and costume-y. Char regularly wears intensive makeup looks on the daily, though I know today is taking her longer than usual to look special for my party. I knock in rhythm on her door to announce myself and enter without waiting for a response. Char and I long ago agreed we were always welcome at each other’s places, no matter how late or inconvenient it might be. “Happy birthday, Ash-bash!” Char exclaims brightly, even with her head half-cocked to the side and her mascara brush never wavering.

I barely managed to close the door behind me before I said, “Char,” my voice wavering, and I see it in Char’s face in the mirror that we both know I’m going to cry, even as dried out as I am. Char is halfway off her bench and headed towards me before the tears fall. I crumple within myself and start to collapse to the ground, but Char catches me and guides me to her bed. Cradling my head and bringing it to her chest, she strokes my hair and whispers sweet nothings. “Oh, doodlebop,” she kisses the top of my head. “Growing up is scary, and it’s hardly worth crying over, but go on and let it out.”

Perhaps too wrung out from my panic attack, the tears subsided quickly. My chest is still tight and breathing hurts, but at least I can explain now. Not bothering to move from Char’s comforting embrace, I tell her, “something’s wrong,” my voice raspy.

“Hmm, what is it, my little cherry blossom?” her voice strong and steady, like I need.

“I think I -” I choke on the words. “I think I’m in love,” I spit the words out like the curse they are.

Char stills. Her hand stops stroking my head. Then her chest started shaking, and I shoot up in a panic, afraid something is wrong with her. She’s laughing? My eyebrows knit closer together, worry over my own situation dissipating. “Char?” I ask, searching her face for a clue.

“Oh, silly billy,” she says, smiling and cupping my cheek with her hand, thumb gently stroking my face. “Happy birthday! I didn’t think it would work so quickly. Oh, this is great! Of course you’re scared. This is new, and I didn’t have a chance to give you my card and explain. Ash, it’s okay. This is good, I promise. Here-” and she hops off the bed, rummaging in my present bag. She returns, holding out a bright blue card.

I take the card with numb fingers, uncomprehending. I’m having a breakdown over the entire disruption to my identity and worldview, and she was laughing? My vision was blurry. Unable to read it even if I wanted, I just stared owlishly at Char, card hanging in my still outstretched hand. She laughs again. “It’s all in there, but I suppose since you’re here, it’s just as easy for me to explain. This is probably better in private, anyway. I bought you love potion!” she squees, as if this is good news she’s gracing me with.

“You remember Moon Oracle? That magic shop I really loved, and I was so mad when they sold to new owners who decided to renovate it? I went in to hate-browse a couple of times, and it won me over. It’s actually so much better! I mean, Herbs and Crystals is a subjectively more terrible name, but the shop itself is legit now. The owner, Hestia, really knows her stuff, and it’s not just a shop to her. She practices real magic, and she helps customers to do the same and be safe about it.

“I talked to Hestia about you for a bit, and she helped me pick out a love potion! Don’t worry,” she smiles reassuringly, “it’s undirected, so it’s totally your own feelings still and completely ethical. Nobody is being coerced or compelled here. It’ll help you unlock your own feelings so you can know what it’s like. You don’t like to say it, but I know you feel left out and misunderstood a lot of the time, so now you don’t have to! I know this has been very sudden for you. It can be so confusing in the beginning. Just give yourself a minute to adjust, and you’ll see. Crushing is so fun, and now we can do it together!”

Time freezes. Nothing existed in that moment but Char’s brilliant smile and the knife-sharp pain in my heart. Bile slowly wormed its way up my throat. I stood up suddenly. “You did what?” I asked, voice small and helpless against my will. I wanted to be angry. All I could be was hurt. Char’s smile faltered. She blinks at me, confused. Vomit was forthcoming. Before she could say anything else, I whipped around and did my best to aim the puke for her little trashcan. I don’t think I succeeded. I didn’t care. Char places a hand on my shoulder, and I violently shrug it off. Unable to look at her, I run. She shouts after me. I don’t stop. I don’t even close the door to her house after me as I tear out of there, running anywhere. Running nowhere.

I end up at the library, librarians giving me concerned looks as I rush to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, I try to hurl again, for real this time. Nothing comes up. Giving up, I rinse my mouth out with sink water. After a look in the mirror, I splash water on the rest of my face and run wet fingers through my hair. Presentable enough. Hopefully no one would be able to look at me now and know immediately how pathetic I am. Thankfully, the young adult and adult sections don’t require me to pass by the librarians again. I head towards the young adult reading nook and collapse into a beanbag, drawing my knees in tight. Reading is out of the question, but the library is a safe and familiar space for me.

“Are you okay?” a concerned voice asks. A startlingly familiar concerned voice. Oh no. This is the exact opposite of what I need right now.

With dread, I peek out from over my knees and confirm my worst nightmare. Wyatt Cardwell, newfound and unwanted crush, is peering at me with worry. “I’m a very good listener,” he says, clearly just being kind. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want. But it’d be wrong of me to just sit here and watch you suffering and not even try to do anything about it. You can tell me to just leave you alone, but you don’t have to be alone if that’s not what you need right now.”

Butterflies knock about my stomach with such violence it’s a wonder I don’t vomit again right here and now. Of course he would be such a genuine person. If it had been anyone else or any other tone, I probably would have just told them to back off. I’d just been betrayed by the one person in the world I trusted the most. Nobody could blame me if I didn’t want to trust anyone right now. Something about Wyatt just screamed that he’d be safe to talk to. If anybody was going to care, it was going to be him. I loathed him with the passion of a thousand fiery suns then, but my hatred wasn’t enough to stop my traitorous mouth.

“I don’t know. It’s so ridiculous. I’m probably overreacting. But my friend did something I think is really terrible to me, and she doesn’t even understand that she hurt me.” My voice is raw. Speaking hurts. Wyatt leans in closer to hear me better. “You’re probably not gonna believe me. She bought me a love potion without my permission, and now I’m feeling all these…feelings I never thought I’d feel, and it’s…” The knife in my heart twists, sharp pain radiating outwards. My stomach is a hellish pit of endless suffering. My fingertips burn uncomfortably. It feels like I’ll never get enough air to live normally again. I close my eyes, unable to face the world. “I feel violated,” I admit, my voice giving out on the last word, leaving it practically unsaid. “And she’s so happy about it, and maybe I’m just an ungrateful brat.” The pain in my body throbs with every attempt to convince myself that I am the one in the wrong here. Maybe if I twist the knife enough, I will physically explode, and this can all be over, and I won’t feel anything but blissful nothingness.

Instead of making fun of me or scoffing or telling me love potions were obviously fake, Wyatt matches my somber attitude and said, “that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” The pain clenches and tightens its hold on my body again. I open my eyes to look at him. He looks pained for me. I hurt so bad, I don’t understand why I don’t drop over dead. “Is there anything we can do to end the love potion? It won’t fix your friendship, but it would fix one problem. And then maybe the rest would be more manageable.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? Of course. This had been done to me, forced upon me without consent. Surely it could be undone. “Um, thanks,” I say. “Yeah. I should go try that.” He gives me a lopsided grin that makes my heart pitter-patter as I squeeze my hands into fists and then stretch them all the way open to try and dispel the tightness in them. I look away from him, unable to stand it anymore. Shaking my hands, I slowly stand. The noise of another beanbag alerts me to him standing, too. “You really don’t have to-” I try to tell him in a panic that he doesn’t need to keep helping. “You’re going through a lot right now, and it sucks to do that alone. I can help advocate for you if you need. Or I can just be moral support. But I’ll have your back either way, and I can make sure no one guilts you out of your feelings. Sometimes it’s easier to stand up for others than it is to stand up for ourselves. I’ve been there.”

It probably proves his point that I didn’t have the energy to argue. Not sure what else to do, I make for the library door. Wyatt detours to put the book he was reading on a library cart but otherwise walks with me in companionable silence. The sun outside is too bright and harsh, and I take a moment to gain my bearings. Where the library is my safe space, the magic shop is Char’s, and we met each other often either here or there. It was a couple blocks walk. More than I wanted to manage right now but also doable.

Oriented, I head down the street to the shop. “I know we know each other, “ Wyatt said, “but we’ve never really hung out before, so I hope you don’t mind if I awkwardly re-introduce myself. I’m Wyatt.”

After a beat, I respond. “I’m Ash.” Neither of us stick our hands out, and I am relieved. I am so physically on edge and emotionally worn down. I don’t think I could have stood the touch. “It’s my birthday,” I say unprompted and immediately want to die for admitting something so unimportant right now.

He whistles in sympathy. “All this on your birthday? That really sucks.” Was everything he did and said supposed to make me hurt? And people liked this feeling? My skin crawled. Wyatt didn’t offer any further smalltalk along the way, leaving me alone with my circling thoughts. It was pure habit that got me to our destination. Without fully realizing that we were there, I entered the shop and froze at the sound of the bell on the door.

I try my best to focus my eyes and force my mind to concentrate on the present. “Do you need a moment?” Wyatt offers at the same time a high pitched, customer service voice shouts to welcome us into the store. Reality jolts into sharp focus. I grit my teeth and head for the counter.

Anger roils in me like a storm. I knew Char. I loved Char. It was so hard to be mad with her, especially when she thought she was helping. I didn’t know this person. Her, I could hate. I stormed up to her, slamming my hands down on the counter so hard that I winced. “So you just go around ruining people’s lives?”

“Sweetie, if a spell didn’t turn out as desired, it’s no reason to get violent with me.” Her fake smile frays at the edges. “You can explain what’s wrong to me like a big girl or you can get out. I will not tolerate being disrespected.”

“First of all, they-” Wyatt puts such stress on my pronouns that I snap out of my anger for an instant. I’m so used to being misgendered by everyone outside my immediate circle. “-are not the one being disrespectful here. How about you take a minute to actually listen to them first before you automatically blame them?” He’s angry but speaking calmly and evenly. The shopkeep’s smile strains even further as he smiles back at her, unwilling to back down. She nods curtly.

“How can you find it rude for someone to slap a countertop, an object that has no feelings and can’t feel hurt, but you’re perfectly fine putting unwitting people under love potions against their will or knowledge?”

Just like Char, the woman’s smile slowly morphs to genuine. “You must be Ash! Char is such a sweet girl. She had endless good things to say about you, you know. You should be off thanking her, not here haranguing me, but these things can be a bit of a shock in the beginning, so I can excuse a bit of theatrics.” Wyatt takes a sharp breath.

“Thanking her for manipulating my emotions and forcing me to experience something I never asked or wanted to experience?”

The owner’s smile becomes practiced and fake once again. “Whatever you think, I don’t deal in unethical magics. The love potion we created for you was generalized. Whoever you developed feelings for is completely dependent on you. The spell merely enhances feelings that may already exist. Besides that,” she waves her hand dismissively, “they’re just feelings. No one is forcing you to act on them if you don’t want. Feelings fade, that’s what they do. If you weren’t so determined to be a victim, you could sit back and enjoy these feelings as you’re meant to. Perhaps you’ll even find this has unlocked something you’ve clearly been repressing, and you’ll move through life with more freedom to let yourself feel your feelings instead of being so afraid of them.”

Humiliation burns across my face. I heave a breath but can’t dredge up any words. Is it even worth it?

Wyatt must think so. “Claiming something is ethical doesn’t actually make it so. Forcing feelings on someone because you think that’s how they should feel is rude at best and manipulation at worst. You didn’t talk to the person who would actually be impacted by your actions, and if you’d pay attention to anybody but yourself for more than two seconds, you could easily see that your actions did do harm. That hurt is real regardless of your intent. Furthermore, I can’t think of a better word than pretentious to claim that you could possibly know what someone else wants better than they do. To stand here lecturing anybody on how they should feel about anything is the height of selfishness. But since it’s clear you have no intent on bothering to listen to someone you hurt, how about we skip the debate and you can at least provide a basic level of customer service and tell us how to break the spell.”

She clucks her tongue and shakes her head in disappointment. “The young always think they know everything,” she mutters. “Fine. Let me check my notes. I will warn you now that since neither of you were the paying customer, there’s absolutely no refund.” I only shake in rage in response. This woman is someone Char looks up to? Upon her return, the owner announces, “the effects are temporary, so there is no way to end them. They will end naturally on their own once the spell loses power. Everybody is different. It may last for a week or a month. Magic is as fickle as the humans who wield it.” She shrugs, uncaring. “If there isn’t anything else I can do for you, I welcome you to leave my shop.” With a great deal of disdain, she adds, “and have a blessed day.”

I yearn for a quippy comeback. None comes as I leave without a word. Unable to stand being anywhere near the shop, I keep walking. Although he keeps trying to comfort me, I eventually manage a good-bye to Wyatt, who offers his socials if I want to talk. Unsure what else to do but follow my plans for the day, I head to my party.

My family is at the park finishing up some decorations, but I’d still beat any friends to the party. With the distraction of pretending everything’s fine, I feel minimally more put together. Zoe, Riley, and Finn all beat Char to the party. It helps to temper things for when Char arrives with subdued cheer, side eyeing me like I’m a wild animal who might bolt. Maybe that was a fair assessment considering earlier. Thanks to the party, we don’t have to be alone together. Unfortunately, when you’ve got the kind of attached-at-the-hip friendship as Char and I have, everyone can tell when you’re upset with each other. Instead of lingering, everyone dips out together, coming up with convenient excuses to give Char and I space for a talk I really wasn’t ready to have yet.

“Ash, I’m sorry,” Char says sheepishly, sitting at the table we’d eaten my cake at. She was saying it because she loved me, not because she understood how she’d hurt me. The heartache I’d managed to push away returns full force. It’s worse than no apology at all.

“I know,” I say, wanting nothing more than to accept the apology. I knew Char didn’t understand me anymore than I understood her, but I thought she’d accepted me like I accepted her. “I don’t know if I can trust you any more,” I admit. At the blatant hurt that flashes across her face, I continue, “I want to. But I don’t know if I can. You played with my feelings, Char. You didn’t ask me or think about how it would make me feel. You only thought about how it would make you feel. That hurts. I’m sorry, but I’ve had a pretty miserable day, and I don’t think I can start to forgive you until this spell has worn off, and I’m sure that I’m feeling my own feelings again, and not just something that somebody else wants me to feel.”

Tears gather at the edges of Char’s eyes. “Okay,” she says curtly. I have no idea if she’s mad at me or herself. “You contact me when you’re ready, I guess,” she says, extricating herself from the table, and swiftly walking towards home.

My heart freezes and shatters into pieces finally. “I’m sorry, Char,” I whisper to the wind. Just like she hadn’t chased after me, I didn’t chase after her. I sat there for another hour or so feeling sorry for myself and not wanting to face my family, before I dragged myself home and collapsed into bed. The last thing I thought before falling into a deep sleep was being mad that even though she’d been awful, something the shopkeep said made sense. Just because I felt something didn’t mean I had to act on it. I wasn’t suddenly alloromantic. I didn’t have to date or feel good about this crush. My reaction was my own, even if these feelings weren’t.

The next couple of months brings many changes. I am unlucky with the love potion, and my crush persists for a little over a month. Neither Char or I reach out to each other in that time, and our friendship drifts. My parents and even Char’s parents talk to us both separately, and our mutual friends try their own subtle poking, but neither of us open up about what happened, and nobody but us can fix our relationship.

Wyatt was somehow the hardest to avoid, maybe because he was the only one besides Char who knew what happened. For the duration of my crush, I keep my space. The feelings clear nearly as suddenly as they appeared, and it was like the stark relief of rescue from drowning. The fog I’d been living in instantly cleared, and though there were lingering feelings of betrayal, I finally felt like myself again. After that, I didn’t mind Wyatt’s company so much. We began developing a real friendship and ONLY a friendship. When he responded to my coming out with “I thought so! I did some research after that day in the library, and ended up reading about aromanticism”, I knew I had a friend who truly accepted me. Char and I started talking again recently. I’m not sure our friendship will ever fully recover, but now I know that life goes on. Bad things happen sometimes, whether coincidentally or deliberately, but that’s not the end. Good can still come after bad.

"Aro/Ace person gets given a love potion" story but instead of them being immune or whatever, it DOES work, and they realize IMMEDIATELY that they've been fed a love potion because this feeling is so wrong and foreign but everyone keeps laughing off the idea of it being a love potion because "they were probably just a late bloomer" or "no, you just finally found the right person!" and it's just a horror story about how no one believes them even though they know, they KNOW this isn't right and they can't stand it.

[aceysun]

"love is love" until it doesn't include sex

"love is love" until it lives in separate beds

"love is love" until it is queer platonic

"love is love" until it does not comply with compulsory sexuality and amatonormativity

love IS love, for aspecs, for sex repulsed folk and for platonic relationships

"love is love" apply to more than same-sex relationships in a world where romantic and sexual relationships are considered more valuable

Remember to advocate for Asexuals and Aromantics this pride. Because we are also here, and we are also queer

[aropride]

[calistatic]

Color it @staff do it it's pride month

Edit because I think this is being misinterpreted: The aroace tag is not colored, it's a petition for Tumblr to color it (sorry for the confusion)

[sortingmyideas]

"WhEn yOu meEt the riGht persOn yOu'll chaNge yOur miNd."

When you fuck a cactus you'll stop being an asshole.

[pierrethesillyclown]

if people don't support ALL LGBTQIA+ they're a shame to the community