#would this particular anon please do me the honor of messaging me privately
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me getting an ask in my inbox laying out every single brush that rachel uses in her backgrounds including indie brushes that aren't a part of her usual adobe kyle webster kit, only to download and test them and find that they're all 100% correct:
#would this particular anon please do me the honor of messaging me privately#i would'st look upon the true name of my rescuer#otherwise how will i kiss you /hj#no seriously though i'm gonna respond to your actual ask here to put out the names of those brushes#and then get to work on that second brush pack LMAO#you're my knight in shining armor anon#right next to that other anon from weeks ago who gave me the site to download practically all these brushes#y'all are the real masked heroes of justice#i'm just your lowly prophet delivering your divine messages unto the people
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re not commenting on a fic because it's different, it would never occur to me to do that? is that a thing, deliberately like witholding comments bc it's 'too weird'?
if I want to comment on a thing it's usually bc there is something specific I want to say, like an observation on a particular way something was handled and what it made me think of/why I liked it. i either need to have smg i really want to say and expand on, or to have really enjoyed the fic v much. (but not too much bc then i put too much pressure on myself for writing The Perfect Comment and procrastinate my way out of doing it at all :|)
if i send them message on anon somewhere, which i do much more rarily, it's bc i really loved the fic but i don't any like deep thoughts about it, but i still want to shout a quick thank you, probably more memey and shitposty than i would on ao3
i didn't know people cared about their fucking like, ao3 reader cred????? i have private bookmarks for stuff i enjoyed but wouldn't recommend or call objectively good, not because i'm hiding out of embarrassment, god
it makes me curious about readers behavior bc i realize i know fairly little about it? i always see people encouraging readers to engage more but it's not that often i've encountered discussion on what makes readers actually engage, do you have any thoughts about that?
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Ah, a time honored topic!
Honestly, there are never enough comments for writers' tastes, and there never will be. Let's be clear on that right up front.
That said... Reserving your squeeing for tumblr asks might please some authors, but overall, I don't see it as a positive thing. A tumblr ask quickly disappears, while comments on AO3 remain visible. An anon comment is also worth much less than a logged in one. Logged in comments are you publicly showing you're willing to support an author.
Most people don't comment because they're busy and comments are hard, but aside from that, the reason a lot of people don't comment is that they don't want to be associated with an author even while enjoying their work. Maybe they're scared of bullies... though this behavior emboldens bullies and leaves authors as the sole targets. Maybe they think the author is a bad person who doesn't deserve support, but then I find it kind of hypocritical that they're wasting time on the author's art. Maybe they're ashamed of their own tastes and too chicken to admit to them in public.
In the current climate, I like seeing actual comments on AO3 because it demonstrates to lurkers that the author has support.
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As for what does drive reader interactions, I think you tend to see the most enthusiastic commenting on WIPs that update regularly and where there's something meaty to discuss. It's often readers speculating about where the fic is going to go. I too read a lot of fic I think is fine but that doesn't leave me with anything I want to say.
The majority of comments are short little "This was great" type ones, of course, because writing long comments is an art just like writing fic is.
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A while back I started a server rightfully named FranciscHOS 😝. I stopped invites after a while because I didn't want to get too overwhelmed and have things get out of control but now that I have another mod coming in (who is someone that is very well known in the fandom and I'm honored that she would agree) I would like to start sending invites again! Though the server is called FranciscHOS, we talk about all of Pedro's characters and, of course, Pedro himself.
There is an 18+ rule in place and other rules include not bringing issues you have with someone on here into the server, respecting Pedro's private life, and to try keeping the channels assigned to his particular characters about that character. Personal convos are welcome in our general channel and you can talk about anything you like there! There is a NSFW channel but since the server is 18+ anyway, I'm not too much of a stickler on that unless it is a naughty pic--that's just to protect anyone who may be in public and doesn't want boobs or dicks popping up on their screens 🤣🤣
Sorry I'm getting long-winded but if you'd like to join please let me know. Do not send me anon messages because I will not be able to send you the link in private. Also, if your age isn't visible in your profile I will not send an invite!
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Okay, so I have some problems. I don't know how to start, for example I have a lot of faith and hope for my life and my mom is like "Don't be too hopeful, don't have faith that much. They will give you nothing. Look at me, I prayed for 20 years and I got nothing. They don't care about you and you are not one of their favorites, so you will never have anything and first of all you are dumb, you don't have any friends and don't go out, so you'll never have a boyfriend". - part 1
“Why does she have to do that? It seriously affects me. Even if they do not give me what I pray for. It kinda plays with my faith, because then after hearing her words, I kinda lose faith and hope and think They will really not listen to my prayers and help me out. I have told her this before and then she is like “Oh, well don’t listen to me, maybe They will give you everything you want”. Yes, well first you play with someone’s mind and then you are like “oh, don’t listen to me”. - part 2″
Dear Marija (what a lovely name!), I believe you are the anon who asked me about God’s favour recently?
You have sent me a very large ask but I hope that I can cover everything and offer you some kind of solace. I will address each part separately. When I first read everything you shared (and I hope you are okay with me publishing it, because I do want to answer you!) I could sense your hurt and pain, and your mother’s hurt and pain as well. I do not think it is right of her to discourage you from prayer. It sounds like she has a lot of pain inside her own heart and she may be taking out that hurt, frustration, and anger on you. I know how she is feeling in some ways; recently, with the loss of my first child, I have felt anger and pain and thought, “why, God?”. A friend of mine is looking for a new place to live and she asked me to pray for her, saying, “when you bought your house, it had everything you had been hoping for” and it reminded me that yes, not even a whole year ago, I was so worried about finding a house to live in, and God provided for me. I was so grateful when we moved in, and I thanked God every day, and yet, as soon as misfortune befalls me, I think “God does nothing for me!” and I instantly forget all the many, many blessings I have received. I wonder if this is the same for your mother, when she says “I prayed for 20 years and I got nothing”. “She did the same before. I didn’t really care about having someone, I always thought I will not worry until I am 25, after 25 I will start worrying, but then she started talking a lot about how I will never meet anyone, because I don’t go out, I don’t have friends to introduce me to someone and all that and it kinda got to me, it has affected me. Now I really do care about having someone, I feel super lonely and sad, but now the damage is done, so nothing she says/do can help. - part 3It is really easy to play with someone’s mind/feelings and then be like “Oh, you shouldn’t have listened to me”. Oh and yes, by They I meant God, Mother Mary and The Saints. And another thing, let’s say I had some kind of heartbreak. I mean I wasn’t in a relationship with this particular person, we had something, how to say it was complicated. - part 4And I would go to church to ease my pain, and my mom would be like “Stop praying to God, to give you that man. He will not.” First of all, I wasn’t praying for that man! I am just going in church to ease my pain and to cry and to tell my Father, Mother, Brothers and Sisters my pain. How does she make such assumptions. Like I am not going to tell her everything that lies in my heart, because I am a very private person and keep things to myself. So I don’t even tell my mother some things. - part 5″I am so sorry that she has said these things to you. I would encourage you to continue to turn to God and go to church to ease your pain, as you say. Our Lord tells us that whatever we ask for with faith, we shall receive. Sometimes it does not come in the way we expect it to, but God knows all things, and knows what is truly best for us. “I know she has went through a lot in her life, but can she please let me live and not project her thoughts/views/opinions on me. She has been divorced from my father since I was a baby, and I understand that she wished for someone, or for a job, or to have some decent friends to go out a bit and forget everything and 20 years have passed, she has lost her youth. But it is still not late, I believe that God has something in store for her, so what if she is 40 now, anything is possible. - part 6Yesterday we got in a fight and she said something like in the sense of “I don’t care if you get anything, what is important to me is for me to see some light now and get married and put my life in place” and I said “well if I am supposed to not get anything, then you don’t, you are older and I am still young”. I know what I said was wrong, and I didn’t mean it. But her words hurt me. - part 7″What she is saying to you here (which breaks my heart to read), and with what you have shared about her relationship with your father, does give me the impression that she is wounded in her own soul and that is coming out in the way that she treats you. We are commanded to love our neighbour as own self (and to honour our mother and father) and I know I have struggled with that in regards to my own parents. Sometimes our mothers and fathers abuse us (physically, mentally, emotionally, and/or spiritually). I really do recommend you speak to your spiritual father about this (especially as you are feeling contrition to responding to her that way).
“Of course I do want to see her happy and find a nice man, who will give her everything my father couldn’t, but you know I have my worries too. I am only 20 and I think will I get married, what kind of man will my husband be, will I have kids, will I have a job. Also I don’t have a lot of family either, just my mom, maternal grandparents and my uncle and like time is passing, what will I do all alone when they are gone. - part 8″
As you say, you are only 20; please believe me when I tell you it is nowhere near too late (if there even is “too late”!) for you to find someone to marry. Truly! Try not to worry about that, and entrust it to God (I know it is easier said than done!). And share your feelings, your concerns, your pain with Him.
“I just hate it, that turned out that I don’t wish my mom well, when I do. I do hope the best for her. I want the best for her and for me too, obviously. I do not want only me to put my life in place and then be like I don’t care about what happens to my mother, but if she gets remarried and is happier than now (which I hope she will be), of course I want to get married too, or have some decent job, or some friends, even one good friend. - part 9″
You seem like you are a compassionate person and I am glad that you wish your mother well. And it is understandable that you also have hopes for your own future, and desire to be married, have a good job, and friends.
“She twisted my words and made it sound like I am a bad person and do not wish her well and she said that now Our Father will never give me anything I pray for or experience joy, because I have a dark heart. Another issue I have is, she always says how she went to church as a little girl all the time, and during her teenage years she used to go to church all the time. - part 10I used to go to church as a little girl too, but then during my teenage years I didn’t really kinda go nor pray, as much as in recent time. But she makes me feel like I am less of a Christian, or that I am not worthy enough, or that God doesn’t/will not favour me as much as He favors her, because I just started last year to pray more, try to go to church every week at least once. - part 11″
Perhaps my friend (and I do not know your mother, I am making assumptions based on my own experiences and what you have written), your mother feels like her own faith is lacking (as she advises you not to pray, saying there is no point) and is projecting that insecurity onto you. I do not get the impression that you have a “dark heart”; you come across to me as a sensitive person who desires to be close to God and is struggling. God loves you and He sees your efforts, truly. And perhaps you did not go to church much as a teenager; what matters is you are going now. You may have fallen, but you got up again. And you chose for yourself to go to church and to pray.
“And I don’t like it how she makes that sound, because I think God has so much love and place for everyone in His Kingdom and is so merciful, that even if you start believing in Him even when you are 50, He will still love you and accept you with open arms in His Kingdom. I am sorry, this turned out super long, maybe it was going to be better if I messaged you privately. But thoughts just kept popping in my head and I had to tell them here. - part 12″
I think you are right about that :) I am reminded of Saint John Chrysostom’s Paschal Homily:“If any have wrought from the first hour, let him today receive his just reward. If any have come at the third hour, let him with thankfulness keep the feast. If any have arrived at the sixth hour, let him have no misgivings; because he shall in nowise be deprived thereof. If any have delayed until the ninth hour, let him draw near, fearing nothing. If any have tarried even until the eleventh hour, let him, also, be not alarmed at his tardiness; for the Lord, who is jealous of his honor, will accept the last even as the first; he gives rest unto him who comes at the eleventh hour, even as unto him who has wrought from the first hour.”
“I am sorry again for sending you so much asks. Thank you for your time, patience and kindness. You have a beautiful name. My name is Marija too! But with a “j”, because I am Slavic. I hope that the Holy Spirit and Our Most Holy Mother are with you though out everyday of your life and help you in every field, and bring you joy and peace. God bless you. I love you. - part 13″
It is no problem at all! Please feel free to message me anytime; I hope what I have written is of some help to you. God bless and keep you. I will remember you in my prayers. With love in Christ,Maria
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My Love
ANGST. Friends, this is going to be seriously angsty. Please check out the tags before reading this, because there are some definite trigger warnings in this piece. I want all of you to be safe and not feel triggered or attacked, so check the tags to make sure you are all right before reading this. The topics touched on in this can really upset some people. I made myself cry a lot.
I have done light research on these topics, but I am not someone who knows everything. If there are any inconsistencies or anything that I say wrong, please, call me out. I want to be correct and do this topic justice, I will gladly fix anything. This will definitely be under a read more because it is angsty, but if someone is on mobile and is having a hard time accessing the fic, message me privately (not on anon, because I cannot get it to you if I do not know who you are and cannot message you back privately.)
Also, I broke my finger but here I am, dudes. It got hit really hard and dislocated, but I popped it back and I’m here to write some heavy angst. ;) It isn’t necessary, but I strongly recommend you listen to My Love by Sia if you read this. I wouldn’t consider this a song fic, because this wasn’t inspired by the song, but I was listening to the song and it really resonated with this idea. So, if you want to intensify your emotions, please listen to the song. I weaved it into the story because why not. XXX
Okay, last thing for me to say. This may sound strange to you all, but I do not want to refer to Anxiety or Morality as anything but those terms, unless they are pet names (Sunshine, An, Mo, beloved, love, etc.). Yes, they are humans in this, but until their proper names are released, I will continue to call them by their current labels. I hardly ever say Logic in place of Logan or Princey instead of Roman. I just like to have the proper terms is all, so, if the read seems strange at all, my apologies! ( @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries & @velocifoxy )
Summary: Human!Sides. All Anxiety wants is to grow old beside Roman, but it seems that fate has different plans in mind.
AO3 link here.
Pairing: Prinxiety. Angst, with light, small mentions of fluff. Mentioned logicality.
My love, leave yourself behind
Anxiety remembers the beginning of their relationship.
He and Roman were nothing but fireworks. Every touch, every shared look, every spoken word. Everything left sparks in the pit of his stomach and a tingle in his fingertips, making him crave more, always more. There was just something about the man that made Anxiety desperate for more adventures, more life.
More time.
Beat inside me, leave you blind
Anxiety never thought that he would enjoy life.
He always pictured himself as someone who worked to survive, lived to survived, did everything to simply survive, but not legitimately live. He didn’t truly start living his life until he met Roman, a whirlwind of excitement and passion that swept Anxiety, quite literally on several occasions, off of his feet.
Morality and Logan had introduced them. They were pursuing a relationship of their own, so, of course, they had to introduce their best friends to each other in turn. Logan and Roman had grown up together, and Morality and Anxiety had. Morality wanted nothing more than for his best friend to meet his boyfriend, and he had insisted Logan do the same.
So he did.
My love, you have found peace
Anxiety knew from the moment his eyes first landed on Roman that his heart didn’t stand a chance.
He was tall. Taller than Anxiety, that’s for sure. At least 6′, broad shoulders, jawline that could slice through diamonds. Dark brown hair to match dark brown eyes that glittered with mirth. Roman was the definition of perfection, like a Disney prince stepped off of a storybook page. His body was a bonus, but what really got to Anxiety was the brightness of his smile. He smiled at Anxiety like he was the light of his world, his sun, his moon, his stars, his entire universe. It was something Anxiety never knew he needed from someone until they met, something he thrived on.
You were searching for relief
Anxiety remembers lying beneath the stars with Roman.
It was their first date, one full of ice cream, laughter, and shy hand holding. Roman told Anxiety of how he reminded him of the stars in the sky. He said Anxiety’s eyes were a green that held gold within them that sparkled and twinkled like stars, and though he never held much of an interest in stars before, he picked up a book and learned constellations. He pointed them out to Anxiety, and Anxiety had never felt more alive than he did listening to Roman speak to him, their fingers intertwined.
You gave it all, gave into the call
Anxiety was filled with a brightness that he never knew before when he was with Roman. With Roman, he felt unstoppable. All of his inhibitions, all of his inner demons. They were silenced by his prince in shining armor, protecting him from the cruelties of himself and of the outside world. He guided Anxiety into the light, to a new world of contentment and excitement. It all made Anxiety actively want to seek out new experiences, because all he wanted to do was to do these things by Roman’s side.
You took a chance and you took a fall for us
It started with headaches.
Roman would take to napping on Anxiety’s couch, head on said boy’s lap, instead of going out. It concerned Anxiety to a degree, but Roman always insisted it was nothing to worry about. Just a simple headache, and a nap should be able to clear it right away.
That is, until it ended up being a repeated occurrence.
You came thoughtfully, loved me faithfully
Next came the forgetfulness.
If there is one thing Roman was, it was a hopeless romantic. He insisted on taking Anxiety to the most grandiose restaurant at least once a month (he wanted to more often, but Anxiety resisted Roman spending that much money on him), which was typically on the month anniversaries of their relationship. He constantly spoiled his lover with gifts such as flowers or stuffed animals, even the manner in which he spoke to Anxiety reflected his hopeless romanticism.
He forgot their one year anniversary.
That was what really tipped Anxiety off to the matter that there must be something wrong with his boyfriend. Roman would never, ever forget their one year anniversary under normal circumstances, and the fact that he would forget it did not madden Anxiety, it worried him.
Initially, Anxiety’s inner demons whispered that it was all because Roman had someone new. Roman must have been having headaches from being stressed over juggling two relationships, so he forgot their anniversary. That must be it. Roman was the perfect man to the eyes of many, several people would jump at the chance to pursue a relationship with him, even if he was meant to be monogamous with someone else. Anxiety supposed he wasn’t the type to live out a happily ever after.
You taught me honor, you did it for me
Their first real fight tore Anxiety apart.
He accused Roman of seeing someone else, and he had never seen such rage within his boyfriend. Roman lashed out, throwing his mug of tea onto the ground and scolding Anxiety for ever thinking of such an outlandish accusation. It was a night of raised voices, tears, and slammed doors only to be met with impatient knocking. It took several hours for both parties to calm down enough to talk things through, and once they did, Anxiety saw Roman cry for the first time.
He wept. He begged Anxiety for his forgiveness, because he didn’t even know what was going on in his life anymore. He was forgetting meals, dates, things to buy at the grocery store. It was eating him up that he forgot the most important day for him and Anxiety, and Anxiety instantly felt an intense guilt for ever pushing his prince to the mess he was in that instance.
They ended up spending their anniversary night in Roman’s bed, curled up under the covers together, boxes of tissues at the ready as they released their emotions through binge watching sad videos on YouTube.
Today you will sleep away, you will wait for me, my love
Next came the vision loss. Anxiety had been at home, curled up on his sofa in a blanket burrito and rereading the first Harry Potter novel when he had received a panicked phone call from Roman, who was alarmed because he could barely see out of his left eye.
Anxiety’s book was immediately forgotten as he had gone to Roman’s apartment, relieved that his boyfriend had been smart enough to wait for Anxiety to come instead of rushing to Anxiety’s apartment. Roman was crying, again, hand covering his left eye and uncovering, asking no one in particular why there was hardly a difference.
Now I am strong, you gave me all
Anxiety had decided that enough was enough. He helped Roman into his car and drove him to the hospital, signed him in to be seen, and sat on Roman’s lap, because Roman had wanted to hold him close and make sure that this was real, that this was happening. Anxiety could feel the eyes of others in the waiting room, staring at a crying boy hugging another like his life depended on it, but for once, Anxiety didn’t care that they were being judged.
He flipped them all off and embraced his boyfriend.
You gave all you had,
Roman had been called back to be seen, and from the get-go, Anxiety could tell that something was wrong. The doctor would not tell them anything, nothing at all when Roman described his symptoms with Anxiety weighing in to agree and go into deeper detail. All the doctor did was order a CT scan and that was that.
It terrified Anxiety that the doctor wanted to look inside of Roman. Roman’s head, to be exact. That was all the doctor divulged before exiting, sparing Anxiety a sympathetic glance. Anxiety didn’t want a sympathetic glance. He wanted to be told that all Roman had was a common cold and all he needed was antibiotics and he would be fine in a few days.
The waiting was agonizing. Waiting for the nurse to take Roman to his CT scan, waiting for her to bring him back once they had gone, waiting for the results. It was awful, but Anxiety had to be strong. He was there for Roman, they were sharing a small hospital bed and Roman was clinging onto Anxiety as his rock, as the one who would make him feel better. He had to be strong and supportive as Roman murmured his fears, his worries. It felt strange, the roles being switched. But Anxiety had learned from the best how to be supportive.
And now I am whole
The waiting was painful, but nothing hurt more than the doctor’s news.
Roman had two masses in his brain.
My love, leave yourself behind, beat inside me, leave you blind
The news had hurt, the news was downright torment, but all it did was make Anxiety feel numb. Roman had been clinging onto him, asking about how he was supposed to tell his friends, how was he to tell Logan, Morality, how was he to tell his family, how was he to tell his mother. How was he to tell his mother that her son, her only child, was dying.
Anxiety had listened to it all. He had been silent, taking in Roman’s words, cherishing the moments they had together. Roman’s fingers had been gripping his hips probably hard enough to bruise, but Anxiety didn’t care. Roman was there with him, it was Roman who was holding him, the man he has always wanted nothing more than to live with forever.
My love, look what you can do, I am mending, I’ll be with you
Out of everything Roman had said while rambling about his fears, one phrase stuck out to Anxiety.
“I wanted to marry you.”
That was what broke him. Anxiety felt heat behind his eyes and behind his nose, his throat was closing up. His palms were itchy, his neck was itchy, his lungs were burning with the need for air, but all he could do was tremble in his love’s arms, sobs wracking his body. He had listened as Roman’s tone of voice changed, how his words had shifted to speak positives, of how much he adores Anxiety, how much he loves him, what he loves about him, how much he means to him. Roman was the one that was potentially dying and here he was, comforting Anxiety again.
Anxiety was so in love that it hurt.
You took my hand, added a plan
Anxiety hadn’t expected the news to come back so negatively, but, more than anything, he hadn’t expected the hospital to give the way they did.
Roman had been admitted into the hospital. In order to determine the specifics of his conditions and to pinpoint the necessary treatments, the doctor had him admitted, and unfortunately, Anxiety had to go home sometime. He had to gather things for Roman - clean underwear, phone charger, etc. He also had to gather things for himself, as there was no way he was going to leave Roman’s side during this. He received a text to grab Roman’s coat that was hanging up by the front door, the brown one, and he was specifically instructed to not check the pockets. It had been a strange request, but one Anxiety followed through with anyhow.
Upon his return, he hadn’t expected Roman’s room to have rose petals leading up to the door. He hadn’t expected to enter the room to find more flowers, potted plants adorned around the room. It was a lovely sight, save for the tired form of his boyfriend on the hospital bed. He looked winded, like he had been running around - to which Anxiety would not doubt it. Roman was always a whirlwind of activity and energy.
You gave me your heart, I asked you to dance with me
Roman hadn’t said a word. All he did was rise, gently take the items from Anxiety’s hands, set them aside. He had pulled a small black velvet box from the pocket of his coat, and all Anxiety felt was that spark in his stomach, the tingling in his fingertips.
“I spoke with some of the nurses. This is pretty last minute, obviously, but hey, who knows how long we have?” Roman’s voice had been so soft, so tender. A stark contrast from his normal excitable tone. “You know, the staff here is fantastic. They ordered all of these flowers for us, I helped them with arranging them. Kinda tired me out, believe it or not.” He had let out a breathy laugh, slowly moving to kneel down onto one knee. Anxiety’s heart was racing so quickly that he could practically feel his blood thrumming through his body. “We called up our friends, closest friends, I mean. Logan and Morality, obviously. And my parents, yours. Our parents are calling up other close relatives to bring them in as well. They aren’t sure of why, but I told them it was an emergency. They’re on their way.” Roman slowly opens the box, presenting it to Anxiety, revealing a glistening black ring with several white diamonds within the band. It was show-stoppingly beautiful. “I’ve been saving up since I was a child to be able to afford the perfect wedding ring for my beloved. I hope this is sufficient.” He lets out another breathy laugh, his soft gaze meeting Anxiety’s. “This won’t be the perfect wedding that I always imagined, I know. I have only wanted the best for you, for us, but it seems that we may not be able to have that. But, despite that, it would be an incredible honor if you, Anxiety Thomas Sanders, would be so kind as to marry an old sap like me. Here, right now, today, while I can still dance with you. In this room, with those important to us, because I want to be yours and I want you to be mine for all eternity, no matter how long I’m still here. Will you?”
You loved honestly, gave what you could release
Anxiety had been unsure of when he had started crying, but at some point he had. No words needed to be said. He had simply dropped to his knees and held his hand out for Roman to slip the ring onto his finger. Roman’s bright smile lit up the entire room, filling Anxiety with the warmth that he has become addicted to.
Morality and Logan were the first to arrive. They found them, both still sat on the floor, clinging to one another for dear life.
I know in peace you’ll go, I hope relief is yours
It took about three hours for the rest of the desired family members to file in. Even in the current circumstances, Roman had been smiling and laughing, sat on his hospital bed with Anxiety snuggled close beside him. He looked so bright, so joyous, and Anxiety was angry.
Angry with the world for doing something like this to someone so great. Roman was a light to the world, someone who deserved so much life, but fate is cruel. Fate wanted to take away the happiness in Anxiety’s life.
Despite that, though, he couldn’t feel completely drained. The ring on his finger gave him hope, more hope than he could conjure up alone.
Now I am strong, you gave me all
The ceremony was beautiful.
The hospital staff had come together to bring in a priest to marry them. It was astounding, to Anxiety, how complete strangers could band together to do so much for people they do not even know. It gave Anxiety hope for the world.
Something that will always be ingrained into his memories is the look on Roman’s face when Anxiety had stepped around the corner to venture into the room, wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans and one of Roman’s hoodies that was baggy on his frame. He had smiled more brightly than ever, it shone through the room like sunlight. It reminded Anxiety of why he fell in love with him.
You gave all you had, and now I am whole
Their kiss was the most intense, most beautifully stunning fireworks production Anxiety could imagine.
My love, beat inside me, my love
Anxiety was there for it all.
He sat beside his husband’s bed or with him on it, day by day, as Roman’s condition deteriorated through the months.
Many cases are able to go home, but with how quickly Roman’s infliction was spreading, he was kept at the hospital.
Anxiety was there when Roman cried every time he discovered more of his hair falling out. Anxiety was there when Roman would let out the contents of his stomach into the waste bin. Anxiety was there when Roman finally lost sight in both of his eyes. Anxiety was there when Roman cried, wishing he could see the stars in his love’s eyes again.
My love, leave yourself behind
The nights were hard. Anxiety couldn’t sleep, he hardly would even if he had the opportunity to. He wanted to be awake as much as possible, to revel in the presence of his husband while he still could.
He would murmur to him at night. He would tell Roman that he is so strong, but sometimes, it is stronger to let go. He would tell Roman of how he knows their love is strong, that no matter what happens, Roman will live on within him. No matter where they are, Anxiety is in Roman, and Roman is in Anxiety.
They were together for one year, seven months, sixteen days, five hours.
They were married for four months, three days, nine hours.
Beat inside me,
Anxiety was there when Roman held his hand. Anxiety was there when Roman told him he loved him. Anxiety was there when Roman offered him one last smile, one last goodbye.
Anxiety was there when Roman finally let go.
I’ll be with you
His prince was gone.
Anxiety still wears his wedding ring.
#prinxiety#prinxiety angst#prinxiety fluff#tw#tw cancer#tw brain tumors#tw character death#tw intense feelings#my finger hurts#my heart hurts#i need a nap#my fics#mine#tears#sigh
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