#he sets himself on fire and falls on banana peels every second though so this isnt even top 10 most cringefail moments for him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lale-txt · 2 years

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❣️ One Piece men and how they would realize they have a big fat crush on you (PART 5)

[part 1 w/ Law, Zoro, Shanks & Smoker] [part 2 w/ Sanji, Sabo, Kid & Rayleigh] [part 3 w/ Ace, Izou, Marco & Thatch] [part 4 w/ King, Yamato, Denjiro & Who’s Who]

a/n: part 5! part 5! this might be my favorite fluff series to write. AGAIN sorry if i roasted your favorite— they made it in this series which means i love them <3

Roger

this man might be the king of the pirates, but is he also the king of realizing what that fluttery feeling in his stomach is?

Roger is a very touchy man, so it wouldn’t be unusual for him to carelessly pet your head when you were slumped over the bar again, or to rub your back when you were standing next to him, maybe even invite you to sit in his lap when the crew was having a party again…

… or feel the overwhelming urge to pick you up, push you against a wall and give you the biggest kiss mankind has ever seen

he would need some time to think about if he wanted to kiss other crew mates like that too, but came to the conclusion: most of them no, some a hearty maybe but only you, you were the infinite yes

Roger would definitely consult with Rayleigh & Gaban who would only give him a long, knowing stare

”Roger. have you not noticed how they undress you with their glances every time?”

he didn’t, huh

but be assured that he will knock at your cabin door later that night, leaning in the door frame in all his broad chested glory, laughing out loud when you ask him if he didn’t get any of your 1001 hints (one of them was taking his face in your hands and telling him that you want to lick eggnog of his chest. he didn’t get the memo though)

yes you kiss now <3

Luffy

the dynasty of Roger’s strawhat lives on in this one, so it might actually be the same as above but in yellow

i am only 8% kidding

Luffy trusted his gut a lot, head empty only tummy going brrrr

which is why he is confused about the tingling feeling whenever you are close to him. he just devoured a 10-course-menu (meat on meat on meat— definitely someone’s porn title) prepared by Sanji, how could he still be hungry? was it a stomach bug? that sounded like a cool bug though

he’ll be irritated but will mostly ignore it, it wasn’t a bad feeling, it actually felt very comforting which only would draw him closer to you… like literally. you will never have a hammock on your own again. closed bathroom doors? don’t know her. that’s OUR bath time now. personal space? too bad. he’ll breathe down your neck forever now.

one night the crew will discuss crushes and who crushed on who before which is when Luffy learns the definition of what a crush is (surprisingly not something you do to your enemies, though it was a possibility)

it is finally his turn with the braincell which is why he will turn to you, smiling widely, letting you know that you’re his crush then

since it’s mutual you’ll teach him what crushes do when they’re alone, hehe

Rosinante

what is a crush if not the feeling of your heart being set on fire?

Rosinante takes this a bit too literal and will set himself on fire unfortunately, but luckily you’re always here for the rescue

after you tipped another bucket of water over his head, he would sit down cross-legged and laugh out loud, a warm and hearty laugh

“i have to start paying you for saving my ass all the time.” “it’s on the house.”

you would gently take his red hat off his head, wringing it out next to you, before you throw a towel (you had already knowingly prepared) over his blonde hair, rubbing it dry in slow and soft circles

caught off guard by the kind gesture, Rosinante would freeze for a second, mentally saving the picture of your face so close to his forever

wondering how it would feel to have those sweet lips of yours on his…

he would show you a big, wide smile and ponder about this feeling in his chest a little longer, but fear not, this man will probably slip and fall on a banana peel in the next hour and maybe he will land directly in your outstretched arms…

Killer

slurping the bowl of pasta, Killer watches every movement of yours carefully

“every movement” meaning: you getting in another fight with your hot-headed captain over the meal plan. other than Kid, Killer didn’t complain about eating noodles day in, day out

he was actually surprised that the newest member of the crew, you, a little chef, quickly figured out which food he liked and which not

was it suspicious that you asked him daily about his food preferences? a little. did Killer feel flattered by your attention though? very.

when you throw Kid with a surprisingly strong ass kick out of your kitchen, Killer can’t help but laugh. it just slipped from his lips with instant regret. his laugh, the one thing he loathed

he could feel disappointment rolling over him when you spun around on the spot, staring at him in disbelief. you would probably laugh at him and then…

instead you caught him off guard, when you came running to him, grabbing him by his arms and almost cry with joy over finally hearing this beautiful laugh of his

you… you really liked his laugh?

in this moment Killer was happy about wearing a mask to hide his blushing cheeks, something that had never happened before

he would lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why his heart wouldn’t stop racing and why there was always your face whenever he closed his eyes

luckily someone would knock at his cabin door, asking him if he was up for sharing a milkshake together. you brought two straws…

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years

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Chris Diaz Week Day Two: Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: None, team as a family

Word Count: 1843

Original Pub Date: 21 April 2020

Read on Ao3 here

Day Two I Day One

“Daaaaaad!” Eddie sighs when he hears his son cry out, pulling a t-shirt on as he goes down the hall and tries to smooth down his hair.

“What’s up, mijo?”He pushes the door open to see Christopher sitting up in bed, rubbing his ear against his shoulder.

“My ear hurts,” he whines, and Eddie moves forward to sit on the edge of his bed.

“I know it does. The medicine should start working in a couple days and help get the pressure down, but until then we’ve just got to do our best and get through it. Want to try a hot rag again?”

Chris nods. “Can we sit on the couch? It hurts when I lay down.”

“Yeah, we can sit on the couch.” Eddie tries to hide his exhaustion as he passes Christopher his crutches.

It’s getting harder to act like he’s not tired, though. It’s been three days since Chris has slept through the night, and they’ve just hit a record high of … three hours, according to the superhero alarm clock on his nightstand. He knows that once they go downstairs, neither of them is going to sleep anymore tonight. At least he’s off work tomorrow, and Chris still can’t go back to school until he kicks the low-grade fever the antibiotics have yet to counteract.

Together, they walk down the hallway, and Eddie makes sure Christopher is settled in the middle of the couch with a blanket before leaning the crutches against the coffee table.

“I’ll go get a washcloth and we’ll sit together, alright?” He waits for a nod, and heads back up the hall to soak a rag in hot water, wringing it out before he folds it in fourths and rejoins his son, who’s pulling at his ear and pouting. “Right here, buddy. Here we go.”

Eddie sits down next to him and wraps his arm around Christopher’s shoulders, helping guide him to lean against his chest, the wet rag resting on top of his shirt.

“Hurts, Dad.”

“I know, mijo. The steam should help, and if we point it down, the pressure might drain some.” Eddie runs his hand through Chris’s soft curls and sighing. “Close your eyes, see if you can fall asleep.”

“It hurts too much.” Chris wiggles against Eddie’s side, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Woke me up.”

“I know,” Eddie runs a hand down his face and makes his peace with another sleepless night, sitting on the couch and holding his son, hoping he’ll feel better by morning. “If it doesn’t pop by bedtime tomorrow, we’ll go back to the doctor, ‘kay?”

“Mm’kay.” Christopher pushes his face against Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie feels the tears soaking through the fabric.

“Hey, you’ll be alright. We’ll get on the other side of this before you know it.” The words aren’t good enough; he still feels horrible that he can’t do anything more than placate his son and hold a washcloth against his head. But there’s nothing else anyone can do, no more medicines to be taken, no fatherhood magic that can suck the ear infection away before Chris’s immune system fights it off.

So they sit, together, Eddie’s hand rubbing gently at his son’s scalp while he sniffles quietly. And they’re still there, together, when the sun comes up a few hours later.

Eddie makes it through to lunch the next day before he’s ready to give up. He’d never be upset with Christopher for needing him, ever, but he hasn’t even managed a full night of sleep over the last three combined. So after he makes sure Chris is set with a bowl of mac and cheese and Finding Dory, he drops into a kitchen chair and fires off a handful of texts.

“Hey, Chris,” Eddie slides the empty bowl away, passing him a popsicle in the hopes of providing at least a little more hydration. “What do you say to moving the sickbed down to the station, going to visit Bobby and Chimney and Hen and Buck?”

He smiles a little and nods, but the relative lack of enthusiasm is a testament to how terrible he must feel, and Eddie’s heart breaks again. Chris turns back to the movie, while Eddie packs a small bag with snacks, a couple of books and his antibiotics.

“Fresh PJs before we go? You don’t have to get dressed, but clean clothes might feel nice.” Chris nods again, but doesn’t make any effort to get up, so Eddie meets him back in the living room with a new set of pajamas. His movements are unwieldy and lethargic as Eddie pulls the existing shirt up over his head and helps wrangle the new one on. “There we go, ready for pants?” Eddie helps him stand up and step from one set of bottoms to the other, then hands him his crutches and switches off the TV. “Ready?”

Another nod, and they head for the truck, Eddie following more closely behind Christopher than usual, in case he wobbles too far one way or the other and throws himself even further off balance. The drive to the station is silent, save for the occasional low whine as the truck jostles Chris over a bump.

“Sorry, mijo, you good?” He whimpers again, but nods at Eddie in the rearview mirror.

When they’re parked and Eddie goes to lift Christopher down from his seat, he clings to his dad’s neck and wraps his legs around Eddie’s torso.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint.” Eddie stands back up and adjusts the backpack strap slung over one shoulder. When he opens the door, he sees Bobby waiting on the mezzanine.

“Hey, Cap,” he calls and waves carefully, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Hey, Diaz.” Bobby comes down and joins them, brushing a hand over Christopher’s head. “Hear you’re feeling pretty crummy.”

“Yeah. My ear hurts.”

“That’s no fun. If you’re up for watching, your buddy Buck is creaming Chimney at Mario Karts.” He looks up at that, leaning back to look at Eddie.

“Dad? C’n we watch?”

“Sure.” Eddie carries him into the lounge, settling them both on the sofa beside Buck.

“Hey, little man!” Buck looks down for a second when Christopher squirms off of Eddie’s lap to sit between them. “Bobby said you were coming ov—CHIM!” He sticks his tongue out at the other man, who’s laughing from his position in the armchair.

“Hi, Bucky.” Christopher reaches up to tug at his ear again. “My ear hurts.”

“Oh no! You think it’s gonna fall off?” Christopher shakes his head and laughs a little bit.

“Dad says it’ll feel better soon.”

“Well your dad’s pretty smart, so I bet he’s right.” Buck lifts an arm up and lets Christopher curl up against his chest.

“Yeah …" he trails off. “Are you winnin’?”

“I was, before Chimney tried to cheat with that banana peel.”

“It’s not cheating if they give me the offensive weapons!” Chimney jerks the remote up and mutters under his breath as his avatar topples off of the racetrack.

Eddie watches a couple more rounds, but feels his eyelids growing heavy. He’s trying not to drift off, every fiber of his being telling him that he needs to stay awake in case his son needs him, but it’s a fight he’s losing quickly. He looks over to see that Christopher seems to have fallen asleep against Buck’s chest without anyone noticing, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment.

The next thing he knows, there’s a hand clapping him on his shoulder, and he jumps, opening his eyes to see that the television screen is blank.

“Diaz.” He turns around when he hears Bobby’s voice. “Go lay down.”

“Hmm? No, I-it's fine, Cap. Just resting my eyes for a second. I’m good.”

“When did you sleep last?”

“Last night. Got a few hours, before he was up again.” Eddie shifts his weight, turning to face Bobby, and yawns.

“And before that?”

“Couple nights. Not a big deal.”

“Diaz. You’re not on duty, so I can’t make it an order, but there’s a bunk room open and you look like you could use the rest.” Bobby pulls his hand back, but keeps staring at Eddie.

“It’s fine, I’ll … I can sleep when he’s feelin’ better.” He looks over his shoulder at Chris, still passed out beside Buck, who’s now flipping through a magazine.

“Dude, he’s fine. He hasn’t moved in close to an hour. I’ve got him.” Buck looks up and smiles, running his hand up and down Chris’s arm. “Seriously, go sleep. I’ll come find you when he wakes up.”

“You’re sure?” He glances between Buck and Bobby.

“I’ll keep an eye on them both. Go, rest.” Bobby nudges him. “This is what we’re here for. Remember, when you don’t know where to take him, this is the answer. Besides,” He chuckles. “If Buck’s being a pillow, he’s not making any messes around here.”

Eddie doesn’t want to give in, doesn’t want to admit that he can’t do this on his own. But the allure of sleep is too strong, and he’s too tired to argue.

“Alright, I’ll lay down for an hour.” Eddie stands up. “Seriously, come get me if he needs anything, but I’ll set an alarm.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you if we need to, but you need the rest. Listen to your body, alright?”

Eddie nods, stumbling toward the bunk room. He’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, sure that he’ll be awake again within the hour.

But when he opens his eyes, when he cracks the door of the bunk room, it’s gone dark outside. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and heads back for the lounge, changing course when he hears familiar laughter from the kitchen.

“Well look at that, Chris. It’s Sleeping Beauty.” Buck looks up when he sees Eddie approach, and Christopher turns around in his chair. He looks rested, more alert than he has since Eddie picked him up from his Abuela’s after he had to leave school early.

“Yeah, what’s that make you? One of the fairy godmothers?” He waits for Buck to roll his eyes and bends down to kiss Chris’s head. “How’s your ear, mijo?”

“Better. Still hurts, but not as much. Bobby’s making brownies. He said you took a nap.”

“Just a little one. So did you, right?”

“Mhmm.” Christopher looks like he’s getting ready to speak again, but the timer goes off and he turns back toward Bobby. “Brownies?!”

“We’ll let them cool a little bit, but soon, kiddo.” Bobby sits the baking dish on top of the stove and turns around. “How you feeling, Diaz?”

“Like a new man, Cap. Seriously, thanks for keeping an eye on him. Good to know there’s people looking out.”

“What do I keep telling you? We take care of each other. And each other’s kids.” Bobby sits down across the table from Chris. “It’s a lot more fun when he’s feeling better, though.”

#chrisdiazweek2020 #christopher diaz is a national hero #911 #911 fox #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #chris diaz #evan buckley #bobby nash #chimney han #day two #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years

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chapter 21 of don’t read the last page is here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

“Happy birthday, Kris.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a square of fabric; he let it fall open and, after reading what was on the front of the t-shirt, looked at Anna with a mixture of shock and amusement.

Ellie squinted at it from the far end of the table. “Best dad ever? Why does it say that? I don’t get it.”

march

"Call me as soon as you're done, okay?"

"What if you're in the middle of saving a bunny's life or something?"

"I won't be. I'll probably still be at lunch."

Anna sighed in relief and stepped closer, leaning her forehead against his chest. "Oh, good. I'm nervous as fuck."

"Why?" he asked, settling his arms around her.

"I don't know. Just...now that I'm excited about it, I'm worried it'll be a false alarm after all or like...that something's wrong."

Kristoff kissed the top of her head. "It's going to be fine, baby. I'm sure of it."

She tilted her face up towards him, propping up her chin on his chest. "Why does everything sound so reassuring when you say it? Tell me something else that'll make me feel better."

"Uh...like what?"

"I don't know. That I'll never get morning sickness and only be in labor for five minutes."

"I don't think either of those things can really happen. But," he said quickly, seeing the disappointment on her face, "it'll be worth it. Because then we'll get to meet our baby. Who, just saying, is going to be the coolest kid of all time and will definitely be a Mario Kart prodigy."

She smiled and raised up on her toes to kiss him. "Love you."

"Love you back."

And then, because that seemed to be the way of things in his life these days, he had had to miss lunch in order to help out with an emergency surgery and missed lunch. The dog in question, thankfully, was completely fine, but his heart was pounding as he scrambled to check his phone. Ryder raised an eyebrow at the way he rushed into the break room. “All good, man?”

“Great,” Kristoff said absentmindedly as he flicked open his texts from Anna.

hey no worries that you didnt pick up sure u just got busy but congratulations dad🎈🎉👶

nov 12 is the due date but they said prob will be late since its our first

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love you

For a moment he just stared down at the screen, hardly daring to breathe. So this was really happening; by the end of the year, he’d have a one-month-old baby. He was going to be a father.

“Stop mooning over the girlfriend and come help me in the kennels,” Ryder called.

“Fiancee,” Kristoff said absentmindedly before typing out a quick response, ignoring the exaggerated gasp of shock from the doorway.

I can’t wait. Love you back :)

---

“Kristoff?”

“Distractions won’t work this time,” he replied through clenched teeth.

“I’m not even racing this time, dumbass. What’s in 209 days?”

“Huh? I-- fuck!” he shouted as he drove right off the edge of the track, to Anna and Ryder’s delight, and promptly fell to last place.

“Watch out, Nattura,” Anna growled. “I’m coming for your ass.”

“Was she always like this?” Honey asked, amused, from where she was sprawled across the armchair.

“Yes,” Elsa replied from her spot on the floor, not looking up from her phone. “It was worst when we played Candyland, because there’s not even a point to being competitive at that.”

“Hello? Does anyone care about this ominous countdown on the fridge?” Sven asked again, huffing when he was drowned out by Anna’s cheering as she threw a banana peel in front of Ryder’s kart and secured a last-second victory.

Kristoff, at last, glanced at him. “Will you get me a beer while you’re over there?”

“Yes, if you tell me what the fuck is in 209 days and if I need to like, buy a Geiger counter or something.”

“Anna?” Honey asked suddenly, sitting up. “Everything good?”

“Fine,” she said distantly, suddenly the same shade of white as her t-shirt.

Ryder, his eyes wide, put an arm around her shoulders to keep her from swaying off the sofa. “Jesus, is winning Mario Kart that exciting?” he asked.

“That’s like, November…” Sven said, frowning. “Why is Thanksgiving making you pass out?”

“I’m not passing out,” Anna said, her voice distant, and Kristoff swore under his breath, hastily getting to his feet and crossing to the kitchen himself to get a glass of water. “I’m pregnant, though.”

No one reacted until Elsa’s phone hit the floor, and then they all burst into a cacophony of questions.

“You’re what--”

“How long have you--”

“What the fuck--”

“I think I am going to actually pass out if you don’t all shut up,” Anna said, her voice suddenly nearly a shout, and they all froze and turned to look at her.

Kristoff handed her the glass of water then, and she took a long gulp before meeting her sister’s gaze. “I was going to tell you tonight, Elsa,” she explained, “you know, family and all. And the rest of you guys in a few more weeks when, you know, it’s less…” She waved a hand. “Risky. But...yes. We’re, uh, we’re having a baby. November 12th, mark your calendars for Anna Arendelle’s performance of a lifetime.”

Sven was the first to speak. “Damn,” he said, taking a sip of the beer he’d finally regained the sense to crack open, “you’re really gonna do that to some kid?”

“Do what?” she asked with a slight frown.

“Make him be a goddamn giant and a ginger.”

april

“You don’t have to stay up with me,” Anna said hoarsely as he passed her a glass of water. "You only signed up for morning sickness duties, not every hour of the day and night sickness watch."

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you don’t feel good.”

“Yeah, but now you won’t be able to stay awake at the clinic tomorrow.”

“That’s what coffee is for,”

She sighed and wiped her hand across her mouth. “I think it’s over for now.”

Kristoff leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Are you sure?”

“No. But I hope it is.”

“Me, too,” he said, getting to his feet before reaching down and offering a hand to help her up. She stumbled slightly, and he caught her, eyebrows knitting together with concern. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

“I wanna brush my teeth,” she said, yawning.

He waited while she did, and she couldn’t help but smile at him in the mirror when he let out his own yawn, rubbing sleepily at his eyes under his glasses. “I love you,” she said around the toothbrush, and he laughed.

“Even though it’s my fault you’re sick right now?”

“Both of ours, really. Your fault for being so handsome, and my fault for taking full advantage of that,” she said, cheerful again now that the nausea had passed as she bounced back to bed. “Or maybe it’s the baby’s fault.”

“We’ll have to give her a stern talking to,” Kristoff replied, lifting the blankets for her as she clambered in. “Put her in timeout and everything.”

Anna laughed, nestling against his chest the moment he was beside her once more. “You really are convinced it’s a girl, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Who’s going to look exactly like you.”

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “I’m kind of hoping for a little boy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just...sometimes I think about what it’ll be like when they’re here, and I just...I keep imagining how it would feel to look over and see you holding a little boy and think ‘that’s him, that’s our son’.”

Suddenly there was a lump in his throat. “Well...well, I guess that would be okay, too.”

---

Sam was surprisingly misty-eyed when she told him. “Look at you, kiddo,” he kept saying, over and over, and she was half-tempted to get up and walk around his desk to give him a hug around the neck.

Lena, though, was so efficiently business-like that Anna just sat silently in her chair, grateful for Kristoff’s hand in hers. “Do we have a timeline?”

“Yes, November twelfth is--”

“Not that. For when you want to go public. Although that does give us a firm deadline.”

Anna let out a surprised little laugh, but Lena just raised an eyebrow; apparently that hadn’t been a joke. Kristoff squeezed her hand and said, “The sooner the better. Might as well get it over with.”

“Well, if we go ahead and go public now, it’s going to hurt Anna’s engagement numbers and detract from the film’s first trailer coming out next week. If we wait until, say, June, it’ll fall perfectly in the lull between the first and second trailers and give us time to start setting the narrative on track well before the press tours. I’ll see what I can do to make sure anything out of state is done before you’re not allowed to fly. When’s the wedding?”

Anna blinked for a moment, trying to process the rapid-fire stream of information. “Um. We didn’t set a date yet.”

“Hmm,” Lena said with a frown. “Well, let’s try to get on that. People will want to know. Too bad you’re not already married, I’d say release a picture of you in the dress and you’d be on the cover of People. For now, though, just a picture of both of you is enough.”

“We don’t want to do that, though,” Anna said quickly before Kristoff could start to get nervous. “Just let them know that he, you know, exists. I don’t want to make it easier for them to find him.”

“Alright. I’d suggest social media, since your fans feel very close to you and will appreciate hearing it directly. But an interview is always a good default if you want a pro’s help putting it in the best way possible.”

She shifted slightly in her seat. “Um. I’m kind of...out of my depth here. Sam?”

He blinked. “Oh, sorry, I was just-- do you remember the day you wandered into my office for the first time, kiddo, with those roller skates?”

“Of course I do,” she said fondly.

“Anyway. I’d do the interview. Better safe than sorry.”

Lena nodded. “Right. Let me find someone willing to do a feature on you,” she said, diving back in to her laptop.

The rest of them sat in awkward silence for a moment before Kristoff cleared his throat. “So,” he began, “what do I need to do?”

Sam shrugged. “Be on good behavior. Don’t do anything that would embarrass her. Don’t go out in pajamas or get a DUI or anything. If the fans are getting too pushy, help her get out. If paparazzi starts shouting, don’t ever shout back. Even if they say--”

“Done,” Lena announced suddenly. “Tomorrow afternoon downtown. No lunch required, just tea, so no need to worry about getting sick.”

“I haven’t been that sick,” Anna said defensively, and beside her Kristoff coughed.

Sam grinned again. “Look at you, kiddo,” he said again.

“Look at me what, puking?”

“Getting ready to be a mom,” he said, and suddenly she felt a little misty-eyed, too.

---

may

“Jesus!” Anna yelped. “I was dead asleep!”

“Sorry,” Kristoff mumbled as he sat down on the warm spot on the sofa she’d just been evicted from, settling her on his lap and promptly burying his face in her shoulder.

She frowned, carding her fingers through his hair. “I was having a very good dream, I’ll have you know,” she said, though there was no real irritation in her voice. “About puppies, I think.”

“You can go back to sleep,” he said, his voice muffled against her shirt.

“I will when you tell me what’s wrong.”

His arms tightened around her waist. “Give me a minute.”

She hummed her agreement and turned to press a kiss into his hair, relishing the feel of him so close against her, enough that their breathing was slowly syncing up as their chests rose and fell together. Worry was tugging at her, to be sure, about what could have upset him enough to not bother with even a hello, but it helped more than a little to know that he would tell her before long so she could help fix it, instead of letting it linger like an untreated wound in his heart.

“Sorry,” he said again, pulling back with a sigh to rest his forehead against hers. “Just needed a second.”

“‘S’okay, baby. No rush.”

He closed his eyes, moving the hand that wasn’t supporting her back to rest against her still-flat stomach. “At the store...there was stuff in the tabloids. About this.”

“But I...how would anyone know?”

“It said ‘a source from the set of Arendelle’s new movie’.”

“Fuck. I knew people were going to start being suspicious of me being sick all the time. Well, they were going to find out soon enough anyway, weren’t they?” she said, hoping she sounded reassuring despite the pit that had just opened up in her chest.

“It said the baby is Hans’s,” he said bleakly, and a little gasp slipped out from her before she could hold it back.

For a moment they just held each other, letting the news sink in. Anna ran a hand up and down Kristoff’s back, and he sighed, still keeping his forehead pressed against hers. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Kris,” she said quietly.

“I know with...with you being famous and stuff, you’re always going to kind of belong to other people. But the baby...she’s just ours. And I guess it was stupid of me, but I was kind of hoping it would always be like that. That the whole time people knew about her, they would know the truth.”

“About him,” Anna said, and he huffed out a laugh. “Sorry, too soon to be teasing you?”

“No. It helps. You’re definitely wrong, though. I’m certain of it.”

She laughed then, too, and kissed him. “The interview will be out soon. And then everyone will know it’s been you all along, and that it’s your son in there.”

“Daughter. And...okay. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m ready for this part to be over. I know it’s gonna be hard on you, and I’m sorry you’ll have to deal with the bullshit, but...damn, it’s been hard keeping you a secret. I just want to parade you around town and be like ‘hey guys, guess who got lucky and convinced the hottest guy in the world to marry her?’” “Now you’re just being corny to cheer me up. Literally last night you called me Grandpa again when I put my glasses on.”

“Yeah, but you’re a sexy grandpa. Which is how we ended up in this mess in the first place.”

“Not a mess. Just an...unexpected journey.”

Anna grinned and kissed the tip of his nose. “Is that your way of asking me if we can have a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight to cheer you up?”

“You know me too well. And yes.”

“Did you get popcorn?”

“Mhmm. Think you can keep it down?”

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Good thing I have a fiance to hold my hair back, eh?”

---

“Wait!”

Everyone turned and looked at Anna as she dug through her purse. “I want to take a picture of this,” she explained. “So I can remember the face he makes.”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, one hand still in the gift bag. “Should I be nervous?”

“No, just--” She grinned and held up her phone. “You’ll see.”

“Can I open it now?”

She nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement. “Happy birthday, Kris.”

He reached into the bag and pulled out a square of fabric; he let it fall open and, after reading what was on the front of the t-shirt, looked at Anna with a mixture of shock and amusement.

Ellie squinted at it from the far end of the table. “Best dad ever? Why does it say that? I don’t get it.”

And then she did get it all at once, her eyes going wide as she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh!”

Kristoff’s mother was already weeping and throwing her arms over his shoulders, and his brothers looked awkward but pleased all the same as they clapped him on the back, and Ellie was already squealing and tugging on her sister’s hand and spouting off something about names, and beside Anna Kristoff’s father smiled and set a hand on her shoulder.

“Congratulations,” he said, his eyes kind and full of warmth, and suddenly she was wishing her own father was here, wondering what he would have said, how broadly he would have smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Bjorgman,” she said, and when he saw her lip start to wobble he pulled her into a tight hug.

“You can call me Cliff, you know,” he said softly. “Or whatever else you’d like. Shoot, might as well go ahead and help me get some practice in, start calling me Grandpa if you want.”

She laughed at that. “Cliff for now, I think.”

“Fine with me,” he said, gently patting her back. “I hope you know we’re here to help both of you with whatever you need. And that you’re welcome up here anytime, with or without him. Don’t even have to call ahead, just come right in the back door and tell me you want pickles or something, whatever it is. Don’t have much experience in this department of parenting, but I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” she said, holding on tighter for just a moment before pulling away to face the rest of them.

---

june

look it’s official

lena had a copy mailed to the house

He squinted at the photo she had texted him, scrolling through the full-page article dedicated to Anna’s rapid rise to fame. He couldn’t help but grin at the mentions of her tampon commercial and unexpected viral fame; she had to have been irritated at that being brought up again. There were photos of her in that blue gown, too, the one she’d worn for the Netflix movie and been so excited to show him. And then there, at the end, was the all-important “what are you doing now” section, the one she had rehearsed with him over and over the night before the interview.

“What’s next for you, Anna?” I ask, and she gives me a bright smile as she sets down her cup of (herbal) tea.

“Well, I’m going to wrap up filming for the sequel, of course, but then I’m going to take a step back from the spotlight for a little bit to focus on my family.”

“Your sister?”

“My fiance Kristoff, actually, and our first baby. We’re really excited,” she adds with her trademark bright smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her.

He grinned and closed the picture so he could type back a response, but before he’d even started a phone call came through. He frowned; it was just a number, no name, but it looked familiar somehow. “Hello?” he asked, expecting it to be a telemarketer.

“Kristoff? It’s Sam.”

“What’s up?”

“I, uh, I don’t know if you saw yet, but just...don’t panic.”

#SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY MY BAD #drtlp #my fics #pregnancy cw

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appreciatedanhowell · 7 years

Text

It's So Meta Even This Acronym

"What, you expect us to say something in summary? You haven't even written the damn story yet," Dan said, scowling.

"Come on, play along," Phil urged, "There's no reason to get on their bad side."

"I'm not helping them peddle this stupid thing."

"I think you just did."

Chapter one

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: strong language

Read on ao3

Excerpt: Dan poured himself cereal and headed to the lounge, where he flopped onto the couch. He couldn't watch anything new—Phil wasn't up, and probably wouldn't be for a few hours. He settled for an old episode of Steven Universe and started on his cereal.

A couple of episodes had played when he realized he was staring at the screen without seeing anything. His bowl was empty, sitting on the coffee table. Again, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. What had gotten into him? He felt strange the past few days, but it just kept getting worse. Every moment was worse than the last: fuzziness, confusion, disorientation. Maybe he was getting sick.

Dan sat in his sofa crease, scrolling through tumblr. He had a word document in another window, so he could claim he was writing a script for a video. He scowled as he came across another “rip Dani Snot On Fire” joke. He was really beginning to regret the rebranding. It had seemed so necessary, but it turned out to be so much work. Changing all his social media, changing the links in all his video descriptions, contacting everyone he'd ever done a collab with to ask them to change his information. Maybe he should keep the placentas in the trash but give up on Daniel Howell. It would be months before anyone really knew him as that name…if they ever did. That stupid teenage screen name might stick with him for life, no matter how hard he tried.

He sighed loudly, hoping for sympathy from the man on the other side of the couch. But Phil was absorbed in something on his own laptop and didn't seem to hear. He was still in Star Wars pajamas and Dan had to recheck the time. It was three in the afternoon. They'd been slipping into the habit of slobbing around, sometimes not even changing into real clothes.

Dan realized he'd thought the word “pajamas” instead of “pyjamas”. He shook his head slightly; he'd been spending too much time on the American-dominated internet. He found himself using ‘miles’ and ‘dollars’, too. There was no escaping the Americanisms. Maybe he'd do a video about that. He was certain someone had made a compilation video of every time he used an Imperial measurement or American word. He opened his document of video ideas and jotted it down. He frowned. It was thin, but maybe he could at least shitpost about it.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses of Ribena. He frowned as he walked back to the living room. Wasn't he supposed to be decoupling himself from Ribena? He couldn't—

Wait. He'd said living room. Had he ever said that before in his life? It was the lounge.

He sat the two glasses down on the coffee table. It caught Phil's attention and he mumbled a thanks before grabbing it and drinking. He was actually writing a script for a video. Dan took another drink then stared blankly at his screen.

The day stretched on. Dan started looking for games for their next video. Phil tapped away at his script. There was evening, and there was morning. Tuesday.

Wednesday saw Dan wake up unusually early. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaned. Why was he up at—he checked his phone—seven in the morning? There was no reason for this stupid consciousness.

He gave up with a sigh and threw off his greyscale bedcovers. There was no use sitting in bed trying to sleep when he clearly wasn't tired. He shivered as he sat shirtless. It was unseasonably cool for…fall? He frowned. It had taken him several seconds to remember what season it was. What was going on with him lately?

He got dressed—okay, so it was only a t-shirt and sweatpants. But it was better than pajamas. He ran his fingers through his hair and brushed his teeth. Staring into the mirror, he frowned at himself. It had been a weird couple weeks and his face was showing it. Purplish bags sat under his eyes and he looked paler than he should. He splashed water on his face and some color returned to his cheeks. But his complexion was definitely less olive and more pink than usual—he looked like Phil.

Shaking his head, he flipped the light off and shuffled to the kitchen. He poured himself cereal and headed to the lounge, where he flipped on the television. He couldn't watch anything new—Phil wasn't up, and probably wouldn't be for a few hours. He settled for an old episode of Steven Universe and started on his cereal.

He opened his laptop and pulled up his email, intending to respond to business emails. He had gotten through exactly two when he decided he was fed up with them. There were a few too many pointed “Daniel Howell”s to be entirely professional. Why wouldn't people leave him alone about it?

He logged into his Internet Support Group email for shits and giggles. There were hundreds of thousands of unread messages. But these ones weren't overwhelming. He was under no obligation to answer any of them.

He tried to pick earnest ones to read. The funny ones were best read and reacted to on camera. But he probably wasn't doing another ISG for months anyway, and he liked he use relatively fresh ones when he did, so what did it matter? Whatever. He clicked on another with the subject “Should I go to grad school?”

It explained that this student had just finished her degree and was planning on going to a four-year graduate school. But she was feeling burned out. But there were literally no jobs available in her field with only a bachelor's degree. After a lengthy explanation, she said she had been listening to everyone's advice. Her sister told her to stay in school, but a close friend told her to take a break. And somebody once told me—

Dan broke out laughing. He couldn't stop himself—they'd caught him completely off guard. He wiped the corners of his eyes and starred the email to show Phil.

As if on cue, soft thuds echoed down the hall. Phil was tired, he'd seen that Dan was awake, and so he didn't care that he was all but stomping. He fixed himself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal and made his way blearily into the lounge.

“Couldn't sleep,” he mumbled by way of explanation. He looked it. His glasses were askew, his hair rumpled, and his mouth set stiffly, as though he'd been grinding his teeth.

“Sorry,” Dan said, moving the television remote to beside Phil's bowl. “Anything you want to watch?”

“This’s fine,” he nodded at the screen and pressed a button to resume the episode that Dan had paused.

Dan considered showing him the ISG email he'd read, but figured that he'd wait until Phil woke up a little. He wasn't known for his early-morning sense of humor. No, even on the tour, his raven-haired friend—

Dan actually snorted out loud.

“Hmm?” Phil said, not bothering with a full question. Dan shrugged off the feeling of déjà vu.

“Have you ever noticed the fandom leaking into your real life?” Dan asked him. Phil looked blankly at him, so he continued. “Like when you see something on tumblr or read something in fanfiction enough times that you start to incorporate it into the way you think?”

“I don't think so,” Phil said, frowning a little in thought. His voice was still gravelly with sleep. “What happened?”

“I just referred to you as my ‘raven-haired friend’ in my internal monologue,” Dan said, halfway between amused and embarrassed.

“What the heck,” Phil said, laughing. “Stop reading so much fanfic.”

“I know, I know,” Dan said, “Besides, that would require us being friends.” Phil stuck his tongue out at Dan, who just laughed.

“You know, maybe I get it,” Phil said after a moment of thought, “I've seen you portrayed so many times that sometimes I catch myself thinking you're a nice person.”

“What a crock of shit, you never think that.”

“I did once.”

“Psh, when?”

“Do you think I would have wanted to meet you if I knew you were such a dick?”

Dan reached over and kicked Phil. Not hard enough to hurt, though. Maybe.

The more years that passed, the more they were comfortable teasing each other. They'd grown more secure in their partnership and they'd both become more confident; Dan from 2009 would have been devastated to hear his idol call him a dick.

Then again, Dan thought, 2009 Dan wouldn't have thought his idol would prank him with habanero gummy bears. Or put a banana peel down the back of his shirt on camera. He still hadn't gotten revenge on Phil for that. He'd have to come up with something fittingly awful, but still believable…

Dan spent a few seconds staring at Phil's profile as the latter scrolled away on his laptop. Phil looked tired too. His jaw was still tight. It looked like he'd had several bad nights in a row. Maybe the new house had a gas leak too, Dan thought bitterly. At least it would explain why he felt so strange.

“We should do something,” Dan said suddenly.

“Like what? Why?” Phil asked, surprised, as he looked up from his laptop.

“I don’t know,” Dan admitted, “Something. We’ve been cooped up for too long. It’s weird.”

“We just came back from Vidcon,” Phil reminded him, “Traveling halfway around the world and back isn’t exactly cooped up. And since when do you have a problem staying inside all day?”

“Since the tour,” Dan said, “It’s just one giant letdown since then. Relaxing was good for a while. Now it just feels like nothing.”

“Okay, then, what do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let me know when you have an idea.”

“Come on, I know you’re just humoring me. Don’t you want to do something? I feel like I’m imploding.”

Phil sighed and closed his laptop. “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure what you’re on about. You’ve been happy to stay put for months now. Did something change?”

“I don’t know,” Dan admitted, rubbing his forehead, “I feel strange. Like something is different or there’s something in the air. I was kind of hoping you’d know what I mean.”

“Tell you what,” Phil said, “I have the next game picked out. We’ll shoot a gaming video then do something. Get out of the house. Whatever you’d like.”

“Can’t we do it now?"

“No. Work comes first.”

Dan groaned. “Yes, Dad.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I’ll stop when you stop acting like a dad,” Dan said. He pulled himself off the sofa and started to walk to his room.

“I wouldn’t have to act like a dad if you acted like an adult,” Phil said to his back. Dan looked back and stuck his tongue out at Phil. “You’re proving me right!” Phil said, laughing. He, too, had to drag himself up and to his bedroom.

The gaming video went badly. Humorously badly, hopefully. They’d played GeoGuessr and probably offended a wide variety of viewers. They were both well-traveled; who’d have thought they would do so utterly horribly? Dan had bragged about doing geography at A level and then failed spectacularly. But it was a Dan vs Phil and Phil wouldn’t let his win go to waste, so they’d just have to hope that no one was legitimately offended.

Phil turned the camera off and plugged it in to let the footage upload to the computer.

“So, you wanted to go somewhere?” He asked Dan.

“What about the park?” Dan suggested.

“You hate the park,” Phil pointed out, frowning.

“I changed my mind. Just for a bit, okay? Then we’ll order in tonight.”

“Pizza. And you’re paying.”

“Fine,” Dan said, “But we’re leaving right now. So you can’t weasel out of this.” He walked out of the room to put his shoes on.

“What is with you?” Phil asked to his back, shaking his head.

He followed Dan and shoved his shoes on. The younger man waited at the door, bouncing slightly, impatient. When Phil was ready, they stepped out and began the walk. The wind bit at Dan’s face, but he’d left his jacket at home intentionally.

Maybe if he got cold enough, he’d remember how much he hated being outside. He’d want to go back in and hibernate with his laptop. He’d stop being so restless. Or maybe the fresh air would revive him. He wasn’t sure which he wanted more. Anything to stop this bizarre ambiance that apparently only he could feel.

#phanfiction #dan and phil #fanfiction #writing #daniel howell #amazingphil #phil lester #dan howell #chaptered #phandom #plz give me validation #this is the first i've written in a while #and the first writing i've ever posted on tumblr

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