Roxygen22 - Inner Ramblings Of A Recovering Perfectionist - Tumblr Blog

heyyy is requests open or closed AND I LOVE YOUR STORIES BTW

Aww, shucks. You made me blush 😊

Asks are open...BUT I have been slow to answer because, well, life. I am working through my queue, though!

Ethereal beauty

face + close up visuals

To all the pending asks in my inbox....know that I have them all started, I just can't create on a whim

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN AND VIVIEN LYRA BLAIR

the only time that we'll ever see Anakin hug little Leia :')

I love Anakin, and I love pumpkin spice season! Too adorably fluffy not to share.

going with ani to the cafè for pumpkin spice latte only for him to be super nervous since we are so cool and he's some random engineering nerd ☝️🤓

‘Fall In Love With Me’

main masterlist Word count: little over 3k

pairing: modern!Anakin skywalker x fem!reader

a/n: you sending this request in as soon as i mentioned wanting to write fall fics is iconic of you and i love you for it 💋

“come on y/n, this is the only good thing about college! skipping without any repercussions” Honey continued to beg as you walked across campus.

“that’s easy to say when you're skipping a language class you’re already fluent in” you protest as she clings to your arm, pleading like a child.

“you don’t even care about French class, you just wanna ogle your little crush” she retorts before tugging on your arm as she comes to a stop forcing you to stop with her.

“okay that’s only half true, i like French class” you hardly believe your own lie as it tumbles out of your mouth. judging by Honey’s deadpanned expression she doesn’t believe it either.

“you were complaining just yesterday how the Teacher refuses to speak in any other language than French and you had no clue what was going on.” if only you didn’t vent to her about everything maybe then she wouldn’t be able to call you out on your bullshit.

“you’re gonna make me late” you sigh, slumping forward solemnly. she rolls her eyes not buying the act for a second.

“good, if you’re going to be late then it just makes even more sense for you to skip with me.” you let out a groan, gently pulling your arm out of her hold before starting to walk again. “you could at least talk to the guy if you’re gonna keep going just to look at him.”

“he’s too smart for me, i mean he’s a mechanical engineering major for gods sake” did he tell you that himself? no, you and Honey just did a little snooping through instagram after you got his full name and found out for yourselves.

“i have a friend who dated an engineering major and she told me they are not as smart as they think they are.” right but he was, he had all A’s it was a known fact around campus. Anakin Skywalker the college’s golden boy.

academic wise anyway, he didn’t socialize with anyone. you had guessed it was because he was much too focused on keeping his grades as good as they were, he had to if he wanted to keep his full ride scholarship… was it considered stalking if you got this information on a public platform?

“yea well Anakin’s different Honey” you can feel the look she’s giving you and you hate it. she jogs up in front of you now, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“fine don’t skip but you have to talk to him, you’ve got the confidence and social skills to charm a snake y/n stop selling yourself short” you both stare at each other, a silent challenge that you always lose.

“alright!” you huff defeated and she cheers, throwing her arms up in victory before doing a celebratory dance.

“have fun talking to the boy of your dreams” she teases before spinning on her heel to walk in the opposite direction as you.

“have fun skipping spanish” you snort and she shouts back a quick ‘i will’ as you continue walking towards the building.

your professor was the type of teacher to close the door as soon as class began. ’if you want to waste my time by being late, don't bother coming at all’ was the first thing she’d said at the beginning of the semester, it was the only sentence she’d said in english.

which is exactly why you speed walk past her right as she’s starting to head to the door, keeping your head low when you see the annoyed look on her face as you do. internally counting your lucky stars that you somehow managed to make it before she’d closed it.

Anakin was always one of the first people to arrive in class so it was no surprise he was already there when you get to take a proper look at your surroundings. he was sitting in his usual spot; last row, second to last seat from the aisle.

you take a deep breath mustering all the courage you have as you walk down the aisle past your usual spot and straight to one of the empty seats next to him. he stiffens, hands freezing mid type on his laptop before he forces himself to relax and continue like normal.

you spare a glance at his laptop screen, wondering if it was related to the class. maybe you had missed an entrance ticket or something. you’re met with a shit ton of equations that makes you want to do a double take, unable to even process what you’d just seen.

the sound of your professor starting the lesson pulls your attention before you can. not that you could even understand what she said, all of it going in one ear and out the other. still you pretend to listen, wanting to give it a little time before you possibly ruin this man’s whole mood.

you pretty much dissociate, resting your hand on your palm without a thought in your mind. it’s about thirty minutes later when everyone who didn’t already have their laptops open are pulling them out of their bags that you snap out of it, following their lead you take yours out before turning to Anakin.

kind of a perfect way to start a conversation if you think about it. “sorry, but do you know what we’re supposed to be doing?” you tilt your head slightly watching as it takes a second for it to click in his mind that you’re speaking to him.

“we have to go onto canvas and answer the newest discussion post and then we have to comment on two other people’s answers all in French” he says after clearing his throat, his voice a soft rumble that makes your heart flutter.

you smile warmly at him, a whispered “thank you“ rolling off of your tongue before you turn back to your laptop. you’re about to copy and paste the question into google translate when you realize you could use this as another excuse to talk to him. “don’t suppose you’ve got any clue what this is asking us?”

his attention is on you again, eyes flicker over your face with uncertainty before he looks at your screen “comment prépares-tu la journée?” he reads it out loud in an accent that rivals the professors “it’s basically a formal way of asking how you prepare for the day”

you nod thinking of your answer only to remember a second later you’d have to respond in French. you bite your lip fighting back the urge to ask another question, afraid that you may start to annoy him. you tap on the table lightly locked in an internal debate, and right when you’re about to cave and go back to your trusty friend google Anakin speaks up again.

“do you need help forming your answer in French?” you can’t help but laugh as you turn to him, a shy smile growing on your face.

“is it that obvious i’m struggling?” you joke at your own misery and he rubs the back of his neck, nervously chuckling.

”no, no i wouldn’t say that…” he trails off before finishing with “well maybe a little bit” which makes you snort and cover your mouth to make sure you don’t laugh too loudly.

“help would be much appreciated, thank you” he smiles, wiping his palms on his jeans before clearing his throat again.

“it’s no problem i already finished my work anyway, i was working on homework for another class” he says while closing his laptop “i’m Anakin by the way” he extends his hand and you're quick to shake it. his palms are clammy, his grip gentle yet firm.

he was definitely nervous, even more than you were which somehow helped fuel you with more confidence. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you” you greet back, releasing his hand and turning your laptop screen more towards him.

“it’s.. uh nice to meet you too” it’s almost funny how awkward he is, you’d expected the college golden boy to be more.. well suave. it was endearing though, and you wish you’d made the effort to talk to him sooner.

you tell Anakin your normal routine before leaving for the day and he translates it for you, at first you were the one typing it but when he saw you failing to spell out the words correctly he offered to just do that as well.

of course you agreed, sliding your laptop more towards him. he reaches forward immediately retyping what he’d told you, and you get a front row seat to watch his mind work. so casual and effortlessly translating each thing you told him onto the discussion post. you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t attractive.

thanks to Anakin’s help you’re able to get the discussion post done and comment on two other people’s posts in under 10 minutes, leaving you with nothing to do as the professor waits for everyone to finish before continuing the lesson.

“so do you usually finish all your work early and work on homework for other classes?” you ask wanting to spark conversation again before he gets the chance to reopen his laptop.

“yeah, French is kind of my first language- my mom had me speak both French and english growing up” he answers, shifting in his chair nervously. uncomfortable from the attention you were giving him. “so this is sort of.. my easy pass class, i just took it for the credits”

“i wanted this to be my easy class, and then the first day she spoke almost purely in French and i knew i was fucked- it’s a miracle i’m passing” that miracle was your usual seatmate who would always give you the answers.

“not to be rude but uh.. how are you passing?” you can tell he didn’t want to come off too blunt but there wasn’t really another way to put it that wasn’t beating around the bush.

“lots of google translate and help from peers” he laughs at how proudly you say that, and you can’t help but smile enjoying the sound of it.

“right, that makes a lot of sense” you raise your brow at that unable to resist the urge to mess with him.

“a lot of sense is crazy wording” you act offended and he instantly starts to panic, backtracking his statement while attempting to apologize. you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you making him freeze when he realizes you weren’t actually upset.

he doesn’t respond even as you apologize, simply shaking his head with a faint smile. he relaxes in his seat, a look on his face like he wanted to tease back but was still unsure.

once you’ve calmed down and chosen to ignore the looks you were getting from the people around you there’s a brief silence until your professor speaks up, calling everyone’s attention. all of the discussion posts must have been turned in as she now continues the lesson.

it’s not until the end of class that you and Anakin speak again, you turning to him as he packs his stuff away. “hey, we should hang out sometime” you suggest, rather bold for someone who was afraid to talk to him a little over an hour ago.

he whips his head towards you, completely caught off guard. “i- i…” he stutters, his brain trying desperately to catch up with the situation.

you wince worried you misread him, maybe you had actually offended him with your joke or perhaps he had no intentions or desire to talk with you after today.

when he sees you physically pull back he forces an answer out of himself in an almost panic. “no! well i mean yeah- i’d like that..” he squeezes his eyes shut cringing inwardly.

“you’re cute” you giggle, and he reddens. eyes snapping open as he tries to catch his breath, you’re too much for him. like taking a sip of coffee that has way too much sugar and cream in it.

“cute?” he repeats practically breathless, he swallows hard. looking down to his bag for a distraction, busying himself with zipping it closed.

“there’s a cafe i like to go to with my friend that we could go to together?” you offer while pulling your phone out of your pocket. readying it for him to put his number in as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

he hesitates for a moment before taking your phone; typing in his name and number, eyes flicking up to you every once in a while like he expected you to change your mind and tell him to stop.

“i’d love too” he finally responds, handing your phone back with his number officially saved into your contacts. you have to hold in a giddy squeal, doing your best to play it cool.

“great it’s a date!” you cheer singsongy, putting your phone back in your pocket. Anakin looks like he may pass out, every time he thinks you can’t surprise him more you do. “i’ll text you the details later tonight”

his mouth opens and closes, every possible response dying on his tongue. you give him the time he needs, brows knitted together in understanding.

he fakes a cough, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “okay, i look forward to it” he says voice cracking slightly which he tries to play off with another fake cough, turning away from you and heading out of the classroom in a hurry.

as soon as he’s out of sight you let out the squeal you’d been holding in, jumping up and down before excitedly running out of the classroom to go find and tell Honey about what happened.

you wait just outside of campus. rocking on your feet as the cold autumn breeze rushes past you making your nose cold, honestly you were far too happy to care.

i’d been two days since your interaction with Anakin and today was the day you’d both agreed to meet up after classes finished. the wait was agonizing but worth it, especially when you see Anakin heading towards you.

he had on a flannel overtop a gray shirt, hair tussled from the wind. palms sweaty which he tried to keep under control, alternating between wiping them on his jeans and trying to fix his hair.

he hasn’t noticed you yet, mumbling something to himself as he walked. you contemplate whether or not to say something, afraid you may startle him if you do but thankfully he finally looks up from the pavement eyes locking with yours. he stiffens mouth snapping shut before standing tall as he tries to look relaxed.

“y/n hey..” it was awkward for sure and you had to bite back a giggle not wanting to make him second guess himself.

“hey, you ready to go? it’s not too far a walk from here” you point behind you in the opposite direction from which he came. he nods, robotically coming to your side as you begin walking.

there’s a awkward silence between you both, Anakin wanting to talk to you but unsure where to start. “sooo…you like coffee?”

you laugh, unable to hold it back this time with how strained his question came out. “i do, it’s a college student's saving grace don’t you think” you half joke, after all there have been many times coffee has actually saved you from passing out and turning in a late assignment.

he smiles, relaxing with your easy going nature. “oh yeah, coffee the holy grail for all college students” he jokes back for the first time and you beam. “you said you go to this cafe with your friend?”

“yep, me and Honey go all the time. they’ve got the best coffee and baked goods. it’s also the perfect environment to do homework or study” you both round the corner of the sidewalk, walking a little ways down to the crosswalk.

“oh that reminds me i’ve been meaning to ask, what’s your major?” well if he was asking that then he had yet to see your instagram account since it was in your bio. good because you’re pretty sure there’s a photo of you from middle school still up on your page.

“i’m an art history major” his brows raise slightly at that, making you tilt your head curiously. “what’d you think i majored in?” he shrugs unsure what to say.

“i don’t know… maybe psychology” this time your brows raise and he laughs. “you seem like the type” your nose wrinkles unsure how to take that but you ultimately decide to brush it off when it was clear he didn’t mean it in a bad way. “why art history?”

“i wanna become an art teacher, i need a bachelors degree for that to happen and art history seemed like the most interesting.” you both slow to a stop as you arrive at the cafe; Anakin steps in front of you, opening the door and holding it for you.

”thanks” you smile, walking in and heading to the usual table in front of the big storefront window that you and Honey sit at, placing your backpack onto the back of the chair. Anakin follows your lead doing the same with his bag before you both get into line.

thankfully it was short, most students preferred the other cafe directly across the street from campus. “ooo they finally have the fall flavors on the menu” you chirp excitedly upon seeing the newly chalked on pumpkin spice latte on the menu.

“are they any good?” your jaw drops dramatically, turning your head slowly towards him in full theatrics.

“you’ve never had a pumpkin spice latte before!?” he smiles, laughing awkwardly while shaking his head no. “oh we’re gonna fix that right now” you don’t even let him respond before stepping in front of him once the person in front of you leaves the line, ordering two pumpkin spice lattes and apple cider donuts for the both of you.

you don’t let him pay either, brushing him off with a “if i’m the one indoctrinating you into fall culture then it’s only right i pay” he only relents when you add “you can pay next time” a content smile on his face at the prospect there was even going to be a next time.

the cashier hands you a bag with the Donuts as well as two disposable cups with your lattes which you take to the table you saved. animatedly sliding the cup over to him as you pull out the donuts placing them on napkins in front of you both. “come on try it, i bet you’re gonna love it”

“a lot of confidence for someone who doesn’t even know if i like sweets” your face falls not having even thought about that, he laughs instantly making you flush when you realize he was messing with you.

still you smile back, it was about time he got you back. really you were just happy he was even comfortable enough to do it. “alright enough teasing, chop chop Frenchie”

“what am i a dog” he snorts, brows creasing together when he laughs this time. it was hardy and from his chest and gods did it make you warm to have been able to pull that out of him. “okay, okay i’m doing it” he says after you nudge him under the table with your foot.

you wait with anticipation as he brings the cup to his mouth, taking a sip of the warm nutty pumpkin flavored drink. you lean in as he takes his time, one hundred percent keeping a straight face on purpose. “..well?”

he pulls the cup away making a show of smacking his lips together to ‘savor’ the flavor. “Anakin!” you groan and he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense before grabbing the cup again.

“you’re right, it’s delicious” you cheer at the success, and he just watches with a smile. taking another sip of his drink before taking a big bite out of the donut you'd given him. his eyes widening as he tries it. “oh this is a dangerous combination”

“addicting isn’t it?” he nods enthusiastically, practically wolfing down the donut in a few seconds and almost completely chugging the latte. “oh my gosh” you laugh, before taking a sip of your own. “it’s not going anywhere”

“not technically true, you said it yourself these are seasonal items” he says and then chugs the rest of his drink. you may have actually just sent this man on a path of addiction.

“well we’ll just have to make it a tradition to come here every fall then. just for the coffee and donuts” he smiles brightly, more than satisfied with your words.

“is the rest of their menu this good year round?” you nod and he leans back in his chair, fiddling with the napkin his donut had been on. he licks the bottom of his lip in thought, bitting the inside of his cheek to hide his nerves before he finally speaks. “well maybe we should make it a year round tradition”

you lean on your palm, absolutely crushing harder on him with each passing second. “year round dates? kind of sounds like you're asking me out” he practically falls out of his chair, choking on whatever sugar the apple cider donuts had left at the back of his throat.

“i-i…i mean..” he stammers and you start to worry you may accidentally be the death of him. “i’d like that a lot.. you know only if you’re into it too-“ he cuts himself off mumbling a ‘she brought it up of course she is’ to himself which makes you giggle.

“why don’t you ask me?” you wait for his answer, not even trying to give him a break. he’s still barely recovered from your initial tease, cheeks a bright red that he’s trying desperately to push down.

it takes him a moment, before he finally works up the courage to speak again. “would you wanna go out with me?” he’s quiet and you briefly contemplate dragging it out more, just to watch him squirm but the poor boy looked tormented enough so you finally grant him reprieve.

“i’d love to” he smiles, relaxing before laughing at himself and you join in. the two of you lost in a fit of giggles, that’s how it is the rest of the date. the two of you getting to know each other better and tossing jokes around.

the more comfortable Anakin becomes, the less awkward and shy he seems to act. no longer as nervous as he was when you first spoke to him.

the cold weather outside is the perfect contrast to the warm cozy bubble around you both that the cafe helped provide. the beginning of many moments to come.

a/n: hope this okay!! im so used to writing Anakin as the more confident and collected one so this is a little different for me but it was so fun to write 😋😋

also how do we feel about Honey becoming a reoccurring character in my fics and oneshots? would you guys prefer me putting ‘y/f/n’ instead?

anyway hope you all enjoyed reading 🫶🏼🫶🏼 have a great day huns!! Xx<3

George Lucas's statement on the passing of James Earl Jones

Yes, please! I'd be interested in seeing what y'all think

Reblog if you want anons to tell you who they ship you with and why.

Celebrities, other tumblr users, anyone..

This scene hits differently now 🥺

okay but the worst thing about obi-wan having ewan's singing voice is... how would he know? The jedi don't seem likely to engage in frivolous things like lullabies or singing - maybe the republic itself doesn't do music! I mean, their idea of opera is giant space bubbles! So obes has never sung before in his life until he's off to tattoonie with fussy baby luke and a woman on a ship starts singing a lullaby to quiet him and obes picks it up and BAM ewan voice, while the lady sits back like daamn

OH MY GOD OK, I have a LOT of feelings about Obi-Wan and Baby Luke on that initial trip to Tatooine. Like…how long did it take? Did they have to take the equivalent of Space Bus transportation so as not to arouse suspicion? How the hell did Obi-Wan hold it together?

This combined with the above is killing me. Poor Broken Obi-Wan and teeny newborn Luke. They are all the other has right now, and Obi-Wan knows next to nothing about newborns (even if he has met tiny kids at the Temple before, they’re not day-old babies which are a WHOLE different world.) 

And Luke is SUPER hungry and he hasn’t been sleeping and he’s really, really, fussy. And Obi-Wan is exhausted and traumatized, and worried all this crying is going to attract attention. And then Obi-Wan notices some mother on the Space Bus sing-songily calming her baby and he’s like…well, maybe I can try that. I’ve heard people singing before on various planets. He knows some traditional Mandalorian songs, maybe. 

And so he tries it. And he sounds like Obi-Wan McGregor. And Baby Luke is like 😲 followed by 😴. 

Luke always likes hearing people sing after that. He’s not entirely sure why, but it’s always been soothing. 

I feel like this is a regular occurrence throughout the clone wars

Empire Day and Ezra Bridger

"...because today is Empire Day, celebrating the 15th anniversary of the galaxy's salvation, when our great Emperor Palpatine ended the Clone Wars and founded our glorious Empire."

Ezra Bridger was born just after Ahsoka helped Mandalore gain its freedom from Maul.

It's worth noting that Ezra was born the exact same day the Jedi purge happened. He was born with the Empire. He was born the moment it was no longer safe to be Force sensitive. He was born during Order 66 while Kanan witnessed his master's execution and ran for his life, while Rex and Ahsoka were fighting for their lives, while Jedi around the galaxy were being executed for a crime they did not commit.

Ezra Bridger is a gift from the Force. He's a Force prodigy.

Because it's Ezra who ends the Clone Wars, a Jedi who was able to negotiate an alliance between the clones (Rex) and the droids (Kalani). He solved the puzzle that the Jedi had been unable to solve during the war and got them to fight together against the Empire just once.

And it's Ezra Bridger who forces Grand Admiral Thrawn into exile in a completely different galaxy far, far away. Grand Admiral Thrawn is heir to the Empire and one of Palpatine's most trusted allies.

Ezra Bridger was able to do the one thing Anakin Skywalker couldn't. He put the rest of the galaxy above his own feelings. Palpatine believed Ezra would fall for the same trap that Anakin did.

Ezra Bridger was literally born to be a thorn in Palpatine's (and the Empire's) side, even managing to sneak his way back home on Thrawn's star destroyer to continue thwarting Thrawn's plans.

Mace Windu is probably very proud of his great-grand-padawan. His lineage is so competent and well-balanced.

Meanwhile the Disaster Lineage is currently stranded in that other galaxy far, far away.

I love Star Wars so much.

Ohhhhh some fodder to get the creative juices going. I'm still working on some older asks, but if y'all have any ideas HMU

Dialogue Response

"I want to kiss you."

"Then do it."

"Oh, I can tell."

"Here? Right now?"

"I want to kiss you too."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Then ask me nicely for a kiss."

"And yet you are still not doing it."

"I feel like you want to do more than that."

"Do you want me to bend down, so you can?"

"That's too bad, because it's not going to happen."

All the Dialogue Responses can be found here.

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

Beautiful artwork

One of cinema’s greatest voices, and more than one memorable dad. You’ll be missed.

😭🥺😢

This scene hits different now

(via James Earl Jones, Actor Whose Voice Could Menace or Melt, Dies at 93 - The New York Times)

James Earl Jones, once a stuttering farm child who became a voice of rolling thunder as one of America’s most versatile actors in a stage, film and television career that plumbed race relations, Shakespeare’s rhapsodic tragedies and the faceless menace of Darth Vader, died on Monday at his home in Dutchess County, N.Y. He was 93.

Wish

This is my first one-shot featuring an actor rather than one of their characters. Timothée reminds me a lot of my first love and high-school sweetheart. We grew apart later in life, but I still look back fondly at moments we had like this.

Summary: You are heading off to college across the country. Your boyfriend, Timothée, surprises you with a sweet gesture on your last night together.

<><><><><>

"Come on," Timothée whisper-yelled as he looked down at you from his perch on your shared apartment building's fire escape.

You peered up at him nervously. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see if you ever get up here," he playfully mocked and then disappeared over the roof ledge.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, you chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself up the ladder one rung at a time. "Doesn't he know I'm scared of heights?" you grumbled.

Your irritation melted when you finally made it to the top. Timothée stood by a telescope and a palette of blankets and pillows.

"I want to look at the stars with you," he said sheepishly as he gestured to the setup.

Your heart melted. You had no clue when he could have snuck away to set this up. The two of you had spent nearly every moment of the day together, trying to make the most of the remaining hours. The next day, you and your parents would be driving across the country to move you into your dorm room.

Timothée had the telescope trained on the moon. You both took turns looking through the apparatus, then laid down on the blankets with your pinkies linked to stare up at the sky. You looked over to take in his profile, the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his curly head of hair.

"Thank you for this."

He squeezed your hand. "I find comfort in the fact that we will still be able to look up at the same moon, at the same stars, even though we're thousands of miles apart. When you look up, know that I am thinking about you." He rolled to his side to face you. "That I love you."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

"At the risk of sounding super corny, to the moon and back," he replied with a big grin.

"I love you, too, Timmy." Your trembling lips met his as you tried to stifle your tears. "I'm going to miss you so much." Your voice broke and betrayed you.

He reached over and held your cheek. "Hey, shh, none of that. There will be plenty of time for tears tomorrow."

You saw his eyes move to something above you. He leaned up on his elbow and pointed to the sky. "Oh, look! Look! It's a shooting star!"

You sat up to look where he was pointing. "Timmy, that's just an airplane."

"I know, but we can pretend. Annnnnnd it distracted you from crying." He winked. "Make a wish."

You closed your eyes and smiled, complying with his silly instructions. You felt him staring at you.

"What did you wish for?" he asked softly.

"Well, if I tell you, it won't come true," you pushed playfully at his shoulder. His small smirk fell from his face as quickly as it began. He gently lowered himself back down to the blanket once more.

"I'll tell you mine because I don't want it to come true."

You gave him a puzzled look.

He looked up into your eyes and took your hand in his. "I wished you could stay. I'm saying it out loud because it would be selfish of me to genuinely want it to come true. You got a full ride to the school of your dreams! This is an amazing opportunity for you, and I'll be damned if I'll be the one to hold you back."

"Oh, Timmy." You laid down and snuggled into his side. The two of you stayed like that for hours in relative silence before he walked you back to your family's apartment.

<><><><><>

Timothée helped you and your parents load up the last of your belongings the next morning. He shook your dad's hand and gave your mom a hug before they stepped up into the truck, leaving the two of you alone for one last lingering moment.

He pulled a small, flat box from his pocket. "Open this on the way," he said as he handed it to you.

You looked down at the box and ran your thumb over the ribbon. Fat tears fell from your eyes as you looked up into his. Timothée pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed against his chest. You felt him plant a kiss against your hair.

"I am going to miss you so much, [Y/N]. But that has nothing on just how proud I am of you for pursuing your dreams. You are going to do amazing things." His voice cracked at the end.

"I love you, Timmy."

"I love you more."

He lifted your chin and drew you into one last kiss. Your tears mixed as your lips moved together. You pushed yourself away and wiped your face before hurriedly climbing into the back seat of the truck. You knew if you made eye contact that you might not have the strength to leave.

Timothée shut the door behind you. Now that you were buckled in and committed to the journey, you risked looking up at him. He looked as pitiful as you felt. His greenish blue eyes were red and puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. As the truck moved forward, he loosened one to wave. You placed your hand on the window, wishing you could touch his one more time. You stared and waved until he was out of sight.

Your attention then fell to the gift in your lap. You gently tugged at the bow and opened the box to find a bracelet with delicate moon and star charms. Underneath, there was a small, handwritten note:

Don't forget to look up.

Love, T

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Oh. I have not seen this one before. T looks so good with damp hair.

Timothée Chalamet And Oscar Isaac On The Set Of "Dune"

Met my friends’s nephews so I got this idea.

Timothee and reader have a baby together and one day both Timothee and the baby are sick and reader is stressed out cuz she’s carrying for both of them all day and night.

Like Father, Like Daughter

Internal monologue in italics.

>> warning: lots of puke <<

A piercing wail amplified by the baby monitor next to my head wrenched me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed, heart racing. What time is it? I looked around in the dark for the red numbers of the alarm clock. 3:43am. Ugh.

I turned on the monitor's video screen to see Aimée squirming, butt up in the air. Despite my best efforts to make her sleep on her back, she always flipped herself over in the night. Timothée laid next to me, still dead asleep - and also on his stomach. Like father, like daughter, I suppose. Part of me wanted to smack him in the head with a pillow. Misery loves company after all, but I refrained.

I grumbled when I heard more whining. At that point, I knew she wasn't going to fall back to sleep on her own this time. I'm coming, I'm coming. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light in the hallway. I was nearly knocked over by the putrid smell that hit me like a ton of bricks when I opened Aimée's bedroom door.

Upon seeing me, the little one pulled herself up using the crib rail for support and lifted her arms to beckon me, whimpering. From the ribbon of warm light that gently filled her room from the open door, I could see the source of the smell...

...and Aimée was covered in it.

Oh no.

I held my breath as I picked her up, trying desperately not to gag and add to the mess. She had vomited in the night and rolled in it in her attempts to get comfortable again. Her normally bouncy curls were matted to her head by orange gunk.

"Mamaaaaa....," Aimée groaned.

"I know, baby. We'll get you cleaned up."

I didn't even take two full steps toward the door before she puked down the front of my nightgown. I could feel it dripping onto my foot. Time to call in reinforcements.

I cradled the baby to my chest and padded back to our room. Using my clean foot, I jostled his side of the mattress.

"Timmy!" I whisper-yelled, trying to get his attention without scaring him or the baby. "Timmy!" I tried again, kicking a little harder.

"Huh?" He pushed himself up groggily.

"I need your help. Aimée is sick. Can you change out her sheets while I wash her - well, us - off?"

He responded with a groan and a nod, throwing off the blanket and tossing his feet over the side of the bed. I took Aimée to the bathroom next to her room so I would have her tearless shampoo available. We sat on the floor as we waited for the water to warm up. I carefully peeled off her onesie and my nightgown. I briefly considered just throwing them away rather than attempt to salvage them. When I tried to push her hair back out of her eyes, that's when I felt it. Fever.

I picked her up and gingerly stepped into the tub. I let the warm water flow over us both, hoping it would loosen up the now caked vomit in her hair. I knew she was feeling bad when she just laid there against my chest. Normally, giving her a bath sounded remarkably similar to an exorcism in a horror film.

Without warning, Timothée bolted into the bathroom, startling both of us. Aimée cried as he retched over the toilet.

"Overcome by the smell?" I asked before soothingly shhshing the girl and opening the shower curtain to see.

He spat out the string of saliva dripping from his mouth and looked over at me. I could tell by the unfocused glaze of his eyes and dark circles below that it was more than just sympathetic vomiting.

"Uh oh. Not you, too."

Timothée wordlessly flopped down and leaned against the sink cabinet as I bathed our daughter the best I could while holding onto her. He mustered up the energy to bring me towels and help me step out of the tub once done. He took the bundled baby into his arms so I could dry myself off and put on my robe. I took it as a chance to feel his forehead. He leaned into my touch.

"Dammit. Must be that stomach bug going around."

Ugh, why today of all days? I whined internally. I have an important meeting at 8:30 that I really can't postpone. Maybe if I...

My thoughts were interrupted by Timothée quickly handing Aimée back to me so he could puke once more.

No choice but to reschedule. He won't be able to care for the baby in this state.

I held Aimée on one hip and helped Timothée up from the floor with my other hand. "Time to get the two of you back to bed."

"I changed her sheets, but some vomit had spilled over to the crib rails and carpet. Her room smells awful," he said quietly, as the baby was nodding off on my shoulder. "I'm already sick, and you've already been exposed, so she may as well sleep in our bed. We can take care of her room in the morning."

I laughed internally at his use of "we." This was probably going to take at least 24 hours to run its course based on recent tales from friends and family. And historically, Timothée was a big baby when sick. This was the first time I had to care for them both at the same time.

Once he laid back down in bed, I followed suit and placed Aimée between us. They were both out like a light. I tried to sleep, but my wired brain kept running through my to-do list. I got up and made a makeshift bumper out of pillows to keep Aimée from rolling off the bed. Timothée was curled protectively around her on the opposite side. I would enjoy the cuteness more if I weren't so damned tired.

I set to work hosing off the bedding and clothes outside before putting them in the washing machine. I placed a delivery order for crackers, gingerale, and electrolyte drinks for both sickies. I wiped down the crib and all commonly touched surfaces and all but gassed the house with disinfectant spray. I got out my trusted enzyme cleaner and carpet spot cleaning machine to take care of the spillover. I was focused on that - and nearly done - when my normal morning alarm went off. I rushed to the bedroom to shut it off, praying that it didn't wake my patients.

They didn't budge. And I never went back to sleep. At this rate, I may as well stay up.

I finished the carpet, switched out the laundry, and anxiously started cleaning the kitchen. When the business day began at 8:00am, I started making phone calls to reschedule meetings for the day. Of course, Aimée waited until I was on the phone to start crying. With my phone to my ear, I started walking to the bedroom when I saw Timothée exit, carting the baby to her room to change her diaper. "Thank you," I mouthed. He nodded and half-smiled.

When I hung up a couple of minutes later, I peeked in to check on them. Timothée was humming as Aimée babbled back at him from the changing table.

"I know you're back there. I need to put WD-40 on those squeaky hinges," he joked. I crossed the room and put my chin on his shoulder to gaze down at our daughter.

"Did you ever go to sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer. I silently shook my head. "I figured that when I saw that her room was clean." He shot me a fake stern look.

"I was wired and couldn't settle," I said, trying but failing to stifle a yawn. "She seems to be feeling at least a little better. How about you?"

"I feel drained, but not awful. You should take advantage and go rest while you can. I heard you call into work." He picked the baby up and set her down on the floor to crawl and play.

I shook my head. "I need to wait for the grocery delivery and make you breakfast."

"Or, let me make breakfast while I actually have some energy, and you can handle lunch," he argued. "Go, sneak out while she's distracted."

I had to admit his proposal was appealing. "Promise to wake me if you need me?"

"I promise, love. Now go."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer, @pmak2002

Met my friends’s nephews so I got this idea.

Timothee and reader have a baby together and one day both Timothee and the baby are sick and reader is stressed out cuz she’s carrying for both of them all day and night.

Like Father, Like Daughter

Internal monologue in italics.

>> warning: lots of puke <<

A piercing wail amplified by the baby monitor next to my head wrenched me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed, heart racing. What time is it? I looked around in the dark for the red numbers of the alarm clock. 3:43am. Ugh.

I turned on the monitor's video screen to see Aimée squirming, butt up in the air. Despite my best efforts to make her sleep on her back, she always flipped herself over in the night. Timothée laid next to me, still dead asleep - and also on his stomach. Like father, like daughter, I suppose. Part of me wanted to smack him in the head with a pillow. Misery loves company after all, but I refrained.

I grumbled when I heard more whining. At that point, I knew she wasn't going to fall back to sleep on her own this time. I'm coming, I'm coming. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light in the hallway. I was nearly knocked over by the putrid smell that hit me like a ton of bricks when I opened Aimée's bedroom door.

Upon seeing me, the little one pulled herself up using the crib rail for support and lifted her arms to beckon me, whimpering. From the ribbon of warm light that gently filled her room from the open door, I could see the source of the smell...

...and Aimée was covered in it.

Oh no.

I held my breath as I picked her up, trying desperately not to gag and add to the mess. She had vomited in the night and rolled in it in her attempts to get comfortable again. Her normally bouncy curls were matted to her head by orange gunk.

"Mamaaaaa....," Aimée groaned.

"I know, baby. We'll get you cleaned up."

I didn't even take two full steps toward the door before she puked down the front of my nightgown. I could feel it dripping onto my foot. Time to call in reinforcements.

I cradled the baby to my chest and padded back to our room. Using my clean foot, I jostled his side of the mattress.

"Timmy!" I whisper-yelled, trying to get his attention without scaring him or the baby. "Timmy!" I tried again, kicking a little harder.

"Huh?" He pushed himself up groggily.

"I need your help. Aimée is sick. Can you change out her sheets while I wash her - well, us - off?"

He responded with a groan and a nod, throwing off the blanket and tossing his feet over the side of the bed. I took Aimée to the bathroom next to her room so I would have her tearless shampoo available. We sat on the floor as we waited for the water to warm up. I carefully peeled off her onesie and my nightgown. I briefly considered just throwing them away rather than attempt to salvage them. When I tried to push her hair back out of her eyes, that's when I felt it. Fever.

I picked her up and gingerly stepped into the tub. I let the warm water flow over us both, hoping it would loosen up the now caked vomit in her hair. I knew she was feeling bad when she just laid there against my chest. Normally, giving her a bath sounded remarkably similar to an exorcism in a horror film.

Without warning, Timothée bolted into the bathroom, startling both of us. Aimée cried as he retched over the toilet.

"Overcome by the smell?" I asked before soothingly shhshing the girl and opening the shower curtain to see.

He spat out the string of saliva dripping from his mouth and looked over at me. I could tell by the unfocused glaze of his eyes and dark circles below that it was more than just sympathetic vomiting.

"Uh oh. Not you, too."

Timothée wordlessly flopped down and leaned against the sink cabinet as I bathed our daughter the best I could while holding onto her. He mustered up the energy to bring me towels and help me step out of the tub once done. He took the bundled baby into his arms so I could dry myself off and put on my robe. I took it as a chance to feel his forehead. He leaned into my touch.

"Dammit. Must be that stomach bug going around."

Ugh, why today of all days? I whined internally. I have an important meeting at 8:30 that I really can't postpone. Maybe if I...

My thoughts were interrupted by Timothée quickly handing Aimée back to me so he could puke once more.

No choice but to reschedule. He won't be able to care for the baby in this state.

I held Aimée on one hip and helped Timothée up from the floor with my other hand. "Time to get the two of you back to bed."

"I changed her sheets, but some vomit had spilled over to the crib rails and carpet. Her room smells awful," he said quietly, as the baby was nodding off on my shoulder. "I'm already sick, and you've already been exposed, so she may as well sleep in our bed. We can take care of her room in the morning."

I laughed internally at his use of "we." This was probably going to take at least 24 hours to run its course based on recent tales from friends and family. And historically, Timothée was a big baby when sick. This was the first time I had to care for them both at the same time.

Once he laid back down in bed, I followed suit and placed Aimée between us. They were both out like a light. I tried to sleep, but my wired brain kept running through my to-do list. I got up and made a makeshift bumper out of pillows to keep Aimée from rolling off the bed. Timothée was curled protectively around her on the opposite side. I would enjoy the cuteness more if I weren't so damned tired.

I set to work hosing off the bedding and clothes outside before putting them in the washing machine. I placed a delivery order for crackers, gingerale, and electrolyte drinks for both sickies. I wiped down the crib and all commonly touched surfaces and all but gassed the house with disinfectant spray. I got out my trusted enzyme cleaner and carpet spot cleaning machine to take care of the spillover. I was focused on that - and nearly done - when my normal morning alarm went off. I rushed to the bedroom to shut it off, praying that it didn't wake my patients.

They didn't budge. And I never went back to sleep. At this rate, I may as well stay up.

I finished the carpet, switched out the laundry, and anxiously started cleaning the kitchen. When the business day began at 8:00am, I started making phone calls to reschedule meetings for the day. Of course, Aimée waited until I was on the phone to start crying. With my phone to my ear, I started walking to the bedroom when I saw Timothée exit, carting the baby to her room to change her diaper. "Thank you," I mouthed. He nodded and half-smiled.

When I hung up a couple of minutes later, I peeked in to check on them. Timothée was humming as Aimée babbled back at him from the changing table.

"I know you're back there. I need to put WD-40 on those squeaky hinges," he joked. I crossed the room and put my chin on his shoulder to gaze down at our daughter.

"Did you ever go to sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer. I silently shook my head. "I figured that when I saw that her room was clean." He shot me a fake stern look.

"I was wired and couldn't settle," I said, trying but failing to stifle a yawn. "She seems to be feeling at least a little better. How about you?"

"I feel drained, but not awful. You should take advantage and go rest while you can. I heard you call into work." He picked the baby up and set her down on the floor to crawl and play.

I shook my head. "I need to wait for the grocery delivery and make you breakfast."

"Or, let me make breakfast while I actually have some energy, and you can handle lunch," he argued. "Go, sneak out while she's distracted."

I had to admit his proposal was appealing. "Promise to wake me if you need me?"

"I promise, love. Now go."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovy-lady, @pmak2002