#AggressivelyArospectacular is a week-long event promoting original creative content in arospec communities.
Are you arospec? Do you paint portraits, draw comics, write poetry, make music, invent stories? Do you make photo-edits or short films? Or maybe jewerly? Or sculptures? Or anything else?
In short, do you create?
Because if so, this event is here for you!
From the 11th to the 17th of November, submit any original creative content you want us to see by tagging it as #AggressivelyArospectacular in the first five tags or sending us a link through our submission box. Your work will then be shared on this blog for our community to enjoy.
Please submit as many pieces in as many different mediums as you like! We would love to be able to spam other people’s dash with art for a whole week.
Let’s show the world how diverse and creative the arospec community is! Help us spread the word!
(For more information, check out our about page and FAQ section, as well as our #AggressivelyArospectacular tag. Please note that, unlike our other yearly event, #AggressivelyArospectacular is focused on original content, not fanworks. Your works do not have to be directly related to arospec identities, any theme is accepted!)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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A couple days ago, I wrote a short story about the hanahaki disease trope from an aromantic perspective, and I thought I would post it for Aggressively Arospectacular!Â
Content warnings: Death, discussion of medical stuff/surgery, brief reference to internalized arophobia
“I’m scared,” the girl said, between coughs. “I don’t want to stop loving her.”
“You won’t stop loving her,” said Mercury, telling her the same thing xe told everyone who visited the clinic. “You’ll stop having romantic feelings for her, but you’ll still care about her.”
“But it’s not the same.” She brushed the small lavender petals that flew from her mouth off of her lap, letting them mix with the flowers on the floor. Someone would have to sweep later.
“You’re right. It’s not.” Mercury sat down next to the girl and smiled. “But you’ll still love her. Platonic love is still love.”
Xe disliked using this line of reasoning, but for some reason “You can still love!” worked better than “If you don’t get the surgery, you’ll die.” If Mercury had to appeal to amatonormativity to save lives, that’s what xe would do.
She sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’m still scared though.”
“It’s okay to be scared.” Mercury would have been scared too, though that was mostly because surgery as a whole scared xir. Romantic feelings were inconvenient at best and deadly at worst, and xe was probably better off without them.
The nurse walked into the waiting room and called the girl’s name. She took a deep breath, stood up, and smiled what was quite possibly the fakest smile Mercury had ever seen. “I think I’m ready. Thanks for talking to me.”
She left, and the waiting room was finally empty. The cheery expression fell from Mercury’s face, and xe let xirself slump down in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Today had been exhausting. Days like this one almost made Mercury want to go back to working in retail.
Xe tried to picture Leo sitting in the chair across the room. The band t-shirts from groups Mercury had never heard of. The bright orange hair he insisted was natural, even after xe found the bottle of dye in his bathroom. The stupid grin that never faded, even when he could barely speak through the daffodils growing in his lungs.
It had been almost two years now since Leo had gone to a clinic like this one. Mercury didn’t find out that he had left without getting the surgery until the morning before he died. Xe had gone home halfway though the funeral, unable to stand the glares of the family and friends who blamed xir for Leo’s death.
Afterward, Mercury had done everything xe could to fix xirself, despite knowing that xir aromanticism wasn’t something that could or should be fixed. When that failed, xe decided to fix the disease that had claimed xir best friend instead. Xe couldn’t invent a cure for hanahaki - some of the best scientists in the world were working on it and there wasn’t much a single college student who had barely scraped by with a C in biology could do to help - but xe could do this. Xe could talk to people, convince them that losing a crush was better than being dead. It wouldn’t bring Leo back, but if Mercury could convince even one person not to make the same stupid choice he had, the world would be a slightly better place.
The imaginary version of Leo who sat across from Mercury wouldn’t want xir to sit around being sad. Xe could almost imagine his voice telling xir to stay calm, focus on the good things, and turn on some good music. Music couldn’t heal everything, but as Leo had always said, it couldn’t hurt.
Mercury put on xir headphones and scrolled through xir phone until xe found proper music for the moment - something emo by one of the many bands Leo had introduced Mercury to - and set the album to play on repeat. Xe stood up, grabbed a broom from the closet of the clinic, and began sweeping up the petals on the floor
Nearly an hour later, the girl from earlier walked back into the waiting room, sat down, and began typing something on her phone. The floor had been clean enough for a while, but Mercury had gotten into the repetitive activity. Cleaning was surprisingly calming sometimes.
Xe leaned the broom against the wall and sat next to her again. “Everything go alright? Do you need any help getting home?”
“Yeah, I’m good. My friend is picking me up.” She smiled tiredly. “Thanks for talking to me earlier. This feels weird, but I prefer it to dying..”
“No problem,” xe said. “This is much better than being dead.”
This girl wasn’t Leo. The fact that she was alive didn’t make Leo any less dead. Mercury couldn’t say for sure that she would have chosen not to get the surgery if xe hadn’t done anything.
None of that mattered. What mattered was that she was alive and well. What mattered was that one less person would be forced to watch a friend die. What mattered was that Mercury might be able to fall asleep without guilt tonight.
The imaginary version of Leo probably wouldn’t have been happy about it. Mercury, for once, couldn’t care less what he thought.
#AggressivelyArospectacular is happening in less than two weeks!
Let’s take this moment to remember all of the different ways to submit work to the project:
- Make a new post on tumblr and use the tag #AggressivelyArospectacular (in one word) in the FIRST FIVE TAGS. (that last rule is super important, if you don’t follow it we won’t find your post.)
- Submit a link to your post if it can be found elsewhere than tumblr.
- If you don’t have a Tumblr or if it is not safe for you to come out as aro on your personal blog, you can directly submit your work to us anonymously and we’ll post it for you.
If your post hasn’t appeared on our blog three days after you have posted it, please don’t hesitate to contact us directly and link us to your post!
Any original creative content is welcome! Whether it’s aro-focused or not! (Although we do like to keep our blog mostly romance-free, it’s not a strict rule either.)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
#AggressivelyArospectacular19 has officially started!
Submit your original works to show the world how talented Arospec people are and follow the tag #AAS19Â to discover what the community shares with us.
Remeber #AggressivelyArospectacular is intended to be about any kind of original creative content, whether it’s aro-focused or not. That means you can submit romance, erotica and even non-english content; the only thing that matters is that you identify somewhere on the aromantic spectrum.
Thank you for joining us during this celebration of creative content!
A cold crisp wind crackles up the center of the main street on a cloudless Sunday morning. The soft blue sky hangs over the small town cover in white.
Sidewalks pile high with pushed over snow the size of glaciers on the curb, with transparent sheets of ice slathered like butter.
The icicles hang from the sign of the retro-styled movie theater with the neon lights glazed over with ice.
Next to it is a local coffeehouse. Wooden chairs and tables next to the window, empty at this early hour.
A weathered old man sits on the stoop, smoking a half-lit cigarette. His breath smokes from the nicotine and the cold. His skin is chapped and his cheeks are pink from the bitter wind. His boots are covered in frost and frozen mud, with the shoelaces frayed at the ends and the soles warned beyond repair. His jacket is a size too small for his broad shoulders, but the look of content on his face shows he is happy with the amount of warmth he is getting. His body sags as if worn down, but it is difficult to tell if it is from the years or the cold. His long, dark hair reaches just below his shoulders, topped off with a forest green knit cap. Despite this weathered appearance, his dark eyes shine like the stars.
He stares motionless ahead until he looks at you.
You want to keep walking, although you really have no where to be. You feet want to keep moving.
But when you meet his gaze, there is something about his eyes that compels you to stop and stay.
Not only are they mesmerizing, but they speak.
“I have seen things and I have stories to tell,” they say. “Ask and you will hear. Ask and you will understand.”
You have stood, frozen in the same place for too long to ignore. Not only would it be rude, but you know your soul would not rest until it hears his stories.
So, you decide to sit down. He makes room for you on his stoop.
The cold from the concrete seeps through your jeans and sends goosebumps trailing over your skin. Maybe you offer him another cigarette if you smoke. Maybe you share the granola bar in your coat pocket.
Whatever you do, you never take your eyes off of him.
Pushing past your nerves, you lean in and ask the man to begin his story. His dark eyes light up at this question. He considers this question for a minute, puffing out a ring of smoke.
If you submitted a piece that hasn’t yet been reblogged, please contact us and send us a link to it!
And don’t forget our blog is accepting submissions of content related to arospec identities throughout the whole year. Just tag what you want us to see as #AggressivelyArospec so we can find it.
