I Want More Than A Commercial!!

I want more than a commercial!!

tim as a beloved burton character — edgar scissorhands. ✂

Sickfic/Hurt/Comfort Any Timothee character of your choice :)

On Edge

Summary: Lee saves eater!reader from themselves.

C/W: Suicidal ideation

One last sunset. That was your last wish. You had spent all day driving to a spot you knew had a great western view. At last, you stood on the precipice of the tallest point in the state just in time to watch the sun sink below the horizon. A slight breeze swept your hair behind you and cooled the tears on your cheeks. The air was fragrant from the wildflowers that bloomed below.

You heard a twig snap behind you. You startled and jolted, knocking rocks off the cliff's edge as you turned toward the noise. The amount of time it took to hear them hit the bottom made your resolve waiver slightly. In the dimming light, you saw a lanky figure with curly red hair emerging from the woods.

"Whoa there. I'm not going to hurt you," a tenor voice called out. He walked slowly toward you, with a slight crouch to his step and a hand held out, like he was trying to calm a scared feral kitten. "What brings you to the edge of the Earth?"

"A fitting end for reaching my limits, is it not?"

A brief flash of sadness (and was that...recognition?) flitted across his face. "My name is Lee. What's yours?"

"[Y/N]."

"Well, [Y/N], if you jump, I jump," he stated matter-of-factly.

"That's insane. You would die, too!" you exclaimed in disbelief.

"Well, I can't turn away now. I'm involved," he said flatly as he set down his pack. "But maybe you can fill me in on why we have to die today?"

You looked over your shoulder back at the sunset. "I- I just can't do it anymore. My family wants nothing to do with me. I k-keep screwing things up, so I can't stay in one place long enough to make new friends. I'm...too different."

"I know. So am I." Lee gestured to himself. "This may sound weird," he paused, "but I could smell you from miles away."

"Smell me?" you asked incredulously.

Lee nodded. "Food just doesn't cut it for you, does it? You feel a deep ache down to your core until you...feed?"

You paled. Conversations about your eating habits usually required you to flee. You stepped back reflexively and lost your footing.

"[Y/N]!" Lee screamed and lunged forward to grab your hand as you slid off the edge. You cried and screamed, clawing at the rocks with your free hand until you were able to grab his arm. He pulled you back to safety and clutched you to his chest.

You shook like a leaf in his embrace. "I- I thought I was the only one." You felt him shake his head as he rested his cheek on your hair.

"You are not alone." You heard his voice catch as if he were crying. "Let me prove it to you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you, if you'll let me."

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Masterlist

A/N: slight inspiration taken from the jumping scene of Titanic

🥹

HC of Timmy calling you Mrs. Chalamet for room bookings at hotels, dinner reservations, ect and it being a bit of an inside joke but one day he says it to you seriously and proposes

This is such a cute ask.

The first time it happened you assumed it was a mistake on Timmy's part. Or maybe the hotel assumed since he did the booking you two were married. You just smiled and pretended like it didn't happen.

The next few times your eyebrows furrowed, but you still didn't say anything. But it got to the point you had to ask Timmy about it.

For a few months, it had been going on, and after you two checked into a hotel while on vacation in Italy and you were called Mrs. Chalamet at the first desk and then again as you both were led to a table for dinner you smiled at the waiter and turned to your boyfriend.

"Isn't it odd that they keep referencing me as Mrs. Chalamet? Like I want to correct them, but then it's been too long, and plus it's awkward to be like I'm not his wife and it's sort of rude and could be insulting to both them and you and I don't want to be rude or ups-" Timmy placed his hand over yours stopping your rant.

"Baby, I put you down at Mrs. Chalamet." He confessed with a smile. "Oh?" You flushed. "Why?" "Well because you are my Mrs. Chalamet. "

"Am I now?" You chuckled. "Of course. You are going to be that one day, you should get used to getting called that now."

"I'm going to be Mrs. Chalamet one day?" You tease. Timmy blushed and he looked down at the menu. "Yeah, Yeah. Of course. If you want to. Because I want you to be."

Smiling, you leaned across the table and kissed him. "I would love to be Mrs. Chalamet."

And for the next few months when it happens, you do nothing but grin and Timmy and squeeze his hand. Timmy even started to call you Mrs. Chalamet.

"Mrs. Chalamet," he groans as you kiss his neck. "I am trying to memorize my line," he finishes.

"Go ahead. I don't mind," you say, kissing the other side.

His eyes close. "You are distracting me." "Do you want me to stop?" You asked pulling away. "Fuck no, Mrs. Chalamet."

It's a cute little joke you guys do and you love it. And then one day, it isn't a joke anymore.

You wake up to Timmy planting kissing along your shoulder. "Good morning, Mrs. Chalamet."

"Morning, Timmy," you mumbled turning over in bed and kissing his lips. Timmy moaned and pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked burying his face into your neck. Giggling you nodded and ran your fingers through his hair only for his hair to get caught on something on your finger. Well, not just anything but a ring.

Frowning you pulled your hand back and stared at the gold, pear-cut ring on your finger. "Timmy, what is this?" You asked, looking from him to the ring.

Timmy grinned sitting up. "Well. You are called Mrs. Chalamet. I thought it would be best to make it official."

"Are you asking me to marry you?" You asked dumbfounded.

"Yes. Will you become my Mrs. Chalamet?"

You laughed with tears streaming down your face. "Yes yes. Of course. I will always be your Mrs. Chalamet," you said. Timmy pulled you closer and kissed you.

Sick Paul Atredias with Chani as caretaker plz

:)

Weakness

C/W: blood

Dune Pt. 2 spoilers

AU where movie Chani stayed after Paul's fight with Feyd-Rautha:

Paul held his ground when demanding the now defunct emperor's submission to his ascendency, but his strength faded as quickly as the Fedaykin made their way to the airships. Chani caught him as his steps faltered outside of the throne room.

"Usul, you need to sit down," she whispered.

"No!" Paul snapped. "No. I cannot show weakness in this moment. Help me get to one of the side chambers, out of sight," he pleaded.

Chani supported his weight as he struggled to stay upright while limping down the long hall. She ordered the two Fedaykin who stayed behind to find pull down the tapestries from the walls to serve as a makeshift cushion for Paul to lay on.

"We need to get you to the healer," Chani lamented as she inspected his stab wounds. Blood seeped from the hole in his chest with each breath he took.

"Chani," he rasped and reached for her cheek. "My desert spring. I...[gasp] I love you." His head lolled to the side as his arm fell.

Chani turned to her fellow Fremen. "Go get the healer! Bring her here! He hasn't the strength to make it to the ridge. Go! Now!"

She turned back to Paul. "You're not done loving me. You have to keep breathing!" She leaned over to place her ear next to his nose, relieved when she heard the faintest of breaths.

Irulan appeared at the doorway. Chani spotted the movement out of the corner of her eye. "What do you want?" Chani growled, hovering over Paul's body in a protective crouch.

"I...

"You wanted to see if your betrothed is dead? Unless you have something useful to offer...Get. Out."

"There is a med bay on the ship," Irulan replied calmly. "We stock the finest medicines in the Imperium and a doctor at the ready."

"Do you really think I am going to let your doctor touch him? Just to kill him so your father can be reinstated?"

"Paul will die just the same if you don't."

Chani clicked her jaw shut and furrowed her brow. "Why do you care?"

"Because I don't agree with my father's actions that led Paul down this path," Irulan responded softly and ducked her head.

Chani paused, dropping her gaze to Paul's face. "Bring him."

Irulan looked up, puzzled.

"Bring the doctor here. Paul can't be moved."

"Of course." Irulan half-bowed and pulled a communicator from a concealed pocket as she walked away.

Chani ran her fingers through Paul's damp curls. The blood on his forehead had crusted over. "Stay with me, Usul."

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Masterlist

“pretty when you cry.”