Eastcheap was bustling in the late afternoon sunshine. You could hear the sound of people haggling over goods as you passed market stores. One woman was yelling at a storekeeper, the reason for her outburst unclear, but you giggled at the sight of the old lady waving her fingers in the mans red face.
Basket in hand, you headed to a fruit store near the west side of the market. The shop keeper’s son, Peter, had been trying to court you for years now, and always saved you the best-looking apples. In return, you trifled with him, but only ever enough to keep him on your hook.
After collecting everything you needed for the day, you headed back towards your family’s cottage. Rounding a corner, a fly caught your eye as it buzzed around your fresh bread. You reached down into your basket to swat it away and suddenly crashed into someone walking in the opposite direction. It sent you plummeting into the mud. the filth-ridden muck covered your entire backside, and your newly purchased food was tossed all around you.
“My sincerest apologies.” A voice rang out above you, a hand reaching down to help you stand up. “I must confess, my mind be consumed this day. You must pardon my carelessness.” You reached up to take his hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of Henry Prince of Wales pulling you to your feet, your frustration immediately morphing into embarrassment and apprehension. You bent to curtsy as best as you knew how.
“Your highness, th-the fault lies entirely with me,” you stuttered, stagnant in your curtsy, eyes glued to the ground. Noticing he was wobbling on his feet a little, and quickly realizing he was drunk. Not an uncommon sight in Eastcheap, where the young price currently lived. You had seen him stumbling out of Hooper’s many times, but never spoke to him. Your father had forbidden you from the tavern, and you understood why.
He bent down, reaching for an apple, and commenced filling your basket. “Your highness, please.” You begged, reaching out to take the apple from his hand, but he swept it aside. looking up into your eyes with an intensifying glare that quickly fell from his face, as if he had looked into your soul and recognised something familiar.
“Come.” He commanded, standing up. He handed you your basket of apples but left the bread in the mud. “You must permit me the courtesy of replacing that loaf of bread.” He ordered, his fingers hooking into his leather belt as he walked past you and back towards the market.
“Please, I bed of you, your highness, I can not allow you to-” He cut you off.
“I be bound by my honour. You will allow me the courtesy of replacing that loaf of bread.” He repeated sternly. Unsure of how to handle the situation you gave in, following behind him nervously. He paused, letting you catch up. “What be your name?” He asked.
“(y/n),” you replied.
“And your father’s occupation?” The prince continued.
“He’s a printer, your highness.” You responded.
“You be well versed in the art of reading and writing then?” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Yes, your majesty.” You boasted proudly. It was uncommon to have this skill. You felt deep gratitude towards your father for teaching you, a common woman, who in most eyes had no place learning such things.
“That is fortunate indeed, I am intrigued you know. Of what works be you familiar?” He continued his interrogation.
“Not a great deal, your highness. My father merely be a printer of news. Though I did come across some poems by Sir John Gower that I thoroughly enjoyed.
“Ah, yes. The ‘Mirour de l’Omme’ and such.” He responded, and you nodded.
“Yes, your highness.” You confirmed, arriving at the bread storefront. He purchased your bread and bid you farewell, stumbling as he walked off towards Hooper’s.
You couldn’t entirely understand why you felt so flustered. Even though he was the prince, he was still a drunken letch. You knew many young maidens in Eastcheap had slept with him on drunken nights, but he seldom remembered their names the come morning. You had previously made up your mind that he would be more trouble than he was worth, but now you didn’t know how you felt. That brief second when he has stared into your eyes had affected you in ways you didn’t understand. The blue, green and hazel dancing in his eyes were mesmerising, as was the tortured soul peering from within.
After your encounter, a few days passed as normal. Until the third morning, when you woke up to your brother shaking your shoulders.
“(y/n), wake up! Wake up! The prince sent you a dress!” He said urgently. You slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.
“The pr-” You replied, but your brother cut you off, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you out of your bedroom door.
“Come see for yourself.” He demanded.
Early morning light was pouring into the living room when your brother dragged you in. Your mother and father were standing by the small stone fireplace, admiring a beautiful blue velvet gown with gold embroidery that was considerably more beautiful than anything you had ever owned.
“It seems the prince does send you a dress, and what’s more he does send an invitation too.” Your mother said sternly looking up at you. “You must be careful with him. He may be a prince, but he be no princely fellow.” your father warned.
“I am abundantly aware of the kind of man our young prince be, father. My eyes are not so clouded, do not worry yourself so.” You said reassuringly, picking up the dress and taking it to your room. A smile beamed across your face as soon as the prying eyes of your family were at your back.
Dusk was settling over Eastcheap when you finally slipped yourself into the stunning blue dress and set off to the prince’s residence. the streets were quiet, soft candlelight spilling from dining rooms as families gathered for dinner. When you arrived, a servant took your hooded cloak and showed you across the foyer into the spacious dining room. Hal was slumped in a padded chair by the fire, lost in deep thought.
“Your highness, (y/n) has arrived.” The servant said, bowing and returning the way you had come in.
“Your highness,” you said, bending into a curtsy.
“Hal be sufficient,” he replied. “Sit.”
You took a seat opposite him awkwardly. “I must thank your highness for the dress. I truly do not know what I did to deserve such a thing.”
“We need not speak of it. The acquirement of material possessions be not a burden in which I am accustomed. Those lie rooted in entirely different obstacles.” He stated. He was sullen compared to when you first met. His eyes had an air of sorrow about them as they bore into your skin.
“You be air too but the most powerful man in all the kingdom, what thoughts may keep you up so?” You asked.
“Mmm,” he murmured. closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair. “I do not seek that which on top my fathers head does rest.” He stated. “I have borne witness to the darkness which does seep into its bearer,” he went on.
“And you believe the self-pity in which you currently wallow will yield something of a different result?” The words spilling from your lips before you had the sense to silence yourself.
His eyes opened again, glaring at you. “You comment on matters in which you can not understand.” He scowled.
“Forgive me, your highness. It was not my place.” You apologised. “If I may be so bold. Be not to hear my opinions, why then, may I ask, did you invite me here?” You knew full well you were being much too bold, but something about the prince had ignited a fuse within you. “You say I cannot understand such things. Why, pray tell, can I not? Because I am a woman? Or is it that I am not of high birth?” You questioned. “I may be these things, that is true, but I do see you, Henry Prince of Wales.”
He was staring at you now with such an intensity it sent goosebumps sailing across your skin. But you were set in your resolve. You would not yield or silence yourself for the sake of his comfort, even if the consequences were dire.
“What be that in which you see, that in which you claim to know from such a brief passing of words.” His voice stern but undeniably curious.
“I see you blame yourself for deeds that do not be yours. I see you drink and fuck in futile pursuit of that which makes you numb.” You stood up and stepped forward so you were standing over him. looking into his eyes as they widened with confusion. You lifted the hem of your gown so you could straddle him. Without explanation, you began to unbutton his tunic and removed it from his shoulders. He offered no protests, he just stared into your eyes intently, silent. You pulled his undershirt over his head and ran your fingers down his chest before reaching for a candle that was sitting on the table. “I see that which you truly desire be to actually feel something.” You said, slowly pouring hot wax down his chest.
“Ahhhh,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as he exhaled and closed his eyes. You poured more, the opaque liquid returning to white as the cooling droplets splattered across his delicate, pale skin. streaming down his chest and over his taut, skinny stomach “Fuck,” he muttered, opening his eyes and looking back up at you. You placed the candle back on the table, and brought your hands to his cheeks, tracing the small scar under his left eye with your thumb.
“You are quite unlike any person I have yet encountered,” Hal admitted, his eyes wandering to your lips and then back to your eyes. You leaned in so your lips brushed his. He came to meet you but you pulled back, teasing him. You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, leaning in yet again to bite it playfully.
“Do you taste a longing for my lips?” You asked. His forehead furrowed, the desire to kiss you written across his face. “Good,” you affirmed. lifting yourself form his lap, trailing your fingers across his shoulder as you walked back towards the door.
“I must be going now, your highness.” excusing yourself. You turned once more to curtsy, spying a shocked look settling over the prince’s face, Then walked out, draping your cloak over yourself as you left. A grin creeping across your face. You were proud you had rattled him so.
The following day was not but halfway done when the prince’s man Falstaff came to call on you. He stood in your doorway, his hand entangled in his bushy beard, attempting to scratch his chin.
“I do not claim to comprehend how you have bespelled his highness so, but it is true none the less. I have been asked to request your presence again this evening.” Your inner voice was giggling at your success as you agreed to meet the prince again.
For the second night in a row, you set off towards the prince’s residence. This time, Hal opened the door himself, his house staff nowhere to be seen. He greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand and showed you through to the living room. His eyes glued to your every move.
WELCOME TO THE TELL ME, NOT HIM. Q&A! Thank you to everyone who submitted questions! A lot of the questions were duplicates so If you don’t see your question, it was most likely a duplicate and combined with someone else’s. Since the majority of the people didn’t specify if they wanted to be anonymous or not, I automatically made it anonymous, but message if you’d like to be tagged on your question! I’m sorry if this wasn’t the wrap up event you wanted, but remember if you want side stories and “what-ifs” of TMNH you are always free to request them in my inbox.
TELL ME, NOT HIM. SPOILERS AHEAD!!
1. When you started writing this, did you have someone in mind for who she would end up with? And if not, did you think it would be this hard to choose? (Or is it not hard for you lol)
Originally, when I started writing TMNH, I was writing for Y/N to end up with Sebastian despite the plot where he pretty much lies to her about her role in Silver Spoon in that hellhole of a chapter. I would definitely say that I had so many headaches from switching between Timothée and Sebastian. At one point I was rocking with Sebastian, then the next I wasn’t. Despite being the writer, all the shit he’s done is really hard to recover from
2. Are you willing to make an alternate ending? Or is this it?
Hmm, very good question. I’m sure a lot of you started off with reading this as Team Sebastian and slowly got disappointed as you saw that Seb & Y/N were not end game. I considered making an alternate ending, but I don’t want to milk this story/concept too much. I feel like it’s time to close off this era of TMNH, but definitely if a lot of people would like an alternate ending, I’ll definitely consider it. Also the alternate ending would have cut off the story about 3 chapters earlier. However, I am considering making a short prequel series to TMNH where you see how Y/N and Sebastian’s relationship came to be all the way from the start to where she got her role in Silver Spoon (probably would’ve been a stand alone at the same time).
3. I know for me ideas usually come from something I see throughout the day or think of. What inspired you to write this? It was amazing and different from most fics I’ve read you should be proud!
For a couple years, I’ve been one of the biggest Sebastian fans. In early quarantine, in April, someone on Tik Tok created the famous Timothee (as Elios in the dancing clip from Call and By Your Name) slow-mo/velocity edit with Play Date by Melanie Martinez playing, which made me shoot out of bed with an urge to write. So what better yet to mix two actors I absolutely love? As for it being the plot line it is, I naturally found myself making angst, and for some odd reason it’s always love triangle angst (if you’ve known me from my Queen phase BAHAHAHA).
4. Personally, who were you rooting for? Or who are you more of a fan of in real life?
In the first few months of the series, I was rooting for Sebastian. But as events in real life occurred alongside with those of the series, I found it hard to turn the tables back to where he was a completely redeemable character. As for real life, and as much of a shocker it is, I’m 100% more of a Sebastian fan. But for some reason, I found myself having a better time and effective style emulating Timothée and his emotions.
5. If you were to have Sebastian end with Y/N, what would that have looked like?
If Y/N and Sebastian were to have gone back to each other’s arms, Y/N would have done so after already “dating” Timothee, but realizing he’s not the person she wants in her life romantically. Needless to say, ultimate friend zone, sad Timothee, but happy Sebastian and Y/N. There would’ve been wayyyy more angst on Timothee’s side.
6. Were there any original plot lines that you thought of but abandoned?
Oh hunny, let me get started. TMNH was originally supposed to have 8 chapters, where the majority of things remained the same, obviously less elaboration or filler, but with the inclusion of a different interaction at a pizza restaurant. During that scene, which was after the fight, Sebastian got a new “girlfriend” and bumped into Y/N and Timothee in public (who are not dating, but just friends). A highlighting scene was going to be “Seb: Funny the guy you told me not to worry about is the guy you end up with after we break up. Y/N: I see you’ve moved on fast.” The last chapters were supposed to take place at the Emmys and the After Party where Y/N let’s Timothee know she still loves Sebastian, leaving Timothee heartbroken. Later, he uses his emotions as a driving point in a project allowing him to receive an Oscar, where in the last last chapter, while giving his Oscar speech, he says, “Wow, maybe I should get my heart broken more,” with an awkward chuckle, referring to Y/N. All is resolved when they agree to remain key friends in each other’s lives. Obviously, the first plot line was very short and fast, and as I wrote it, it came to the point where I realized I couldn’t properly execute this story with only half of what it actually ended up with. Obviously, as things started changing throughout the story, the original plot line was abandoned. (Oh yea, there was gonna be like a hand scene from the Pride & Prejudice movie between Timothee and Y/N but it never pulled through).
7. Geo, Rachel, Emeline, etc., are all considered side characters but I feel like they had some kind of significant role. Did you have any specific role for them and what you wanted their impact to be?
Nice catch! Rachel: audience, Geo: instigator, Emeline: character relief, support system. Without Emeline, this story would have most likely been a very toxic fanfic.
8. From your Spotify playlists, what are the most fitting songs for each main character?
Sebastian: Somebody Else - The 1975, Someone New - Banks, Salty - Andrés
Y/N: Pretty Girl - Clairo, I Love You So - The Walters, cellophane - FKA twigs
Timothee: SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - Joji, Somethin’ Stupid - The Ray Coniff Singers, Call Me Baby - Beach Bunny, She’s Gonna Leave You - The Walters
9. If you could do anything different with this story, what would it be? (Although it’s already an extremely great story already).
FUCKING. ENEMIES. TO. LOVERS. DUDE. ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH Y/N & TIMOTHEE. LIKE DEADASS ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS MY SHIT BUT SINCE I WANTED TO MAKE IT AS REALISTIC AS POSSIBLE I DIDNT WANT TO MAKE TIMOTHÉE MEAN OMFG. BESIDES THAT I WANT TO FIX ALL MY SHIT WRITING AND TYPOS. and because of that, i considered rewriting the whole story to fix the typos but.. what if i rewrite it or make a new story where it’s enemies to lovers.. HEHEHEHEHE. ACTUALLY A TIMOTHEE X Y/N FIC THAT’S JUST ENEMIES TO LOVERS DOESN’T SOUND TOO BAD TBH. BRB MIGHT DO THAT. I also would want to rewrite it for the sake of grammatical and other spelling errors. As well as how some of the formats are made and yea. But I guess you can say all authors would feel that way with their writing.
10. How long does it take to create one chapter, especially with making media?
Typically, if I don’t take school into consideration it takes me about a week to write and complete a chapter including media. Proof-reading might extend that time but since I had a vigorous amount of school, this led to me taking a long time to write and publish chapters.
11. What was your favorite chapter?
My favorite chapter was definitely chapter 7, “what goes around, comes around,” aka the fight LMAO. I enjoyed writing and rereading the angst
12. SO MUCH MEDIA LIKE AND THE THUMBNAILS R SO CREATIVE HEY???? WHICH ONE WAS YOUR FAVORITE TO MAKE???? WHAT APP DO YOU USE???
My favorite media I’ve ever made was the YouTube thumbnail for the Don’t Spill Your Guts video, UGH SO GOOD. As for apps, I use ibisPaint, LightRoom, and PicsArt. Mostly ibisPaint.
13. Congrats on finishing the story! Did you ever expect that you would get this much readers for this story?
Actually, not really BAHAHAHA prior to writing the story, I was on a big hiatus and was originally a Queen blog. So I just assumed that it would’ve flopped or sum?? IDK.. but I also had some hope since I felt that people would enjoy the socialmedia!au aspect.
EXTRA FACTS:
Emeline was supposed to hate Y/N and be somewhat of an antagonist.
Chapter 7 had much more toxic tones compared to what I originally posted.
I considered killing off Emeline at the end .
I only made Y/N an aerospace engineer for the sole purpose of making her meet Sebastian at the NASA facility.
I tried my best to avoid pictures that depicted any form of Y/N so that it was more inclusive of all readers. The only photo that “depicted” Y/N in any way was the hand holding pic which I was extremely hesitant to post
The last chapter was supposed to include a call with Sebastian.
I wanted to drop this series mid way.
I started to hate Geo halfway and disliked writing her.
I wish I used Instagram media for the photos instead of Twitter.
I considered making Y/N end up with no one for the sake of her own character development.
I considered making a series called Silver Spoon so you could see what the show looked like.
I planned to rewrite this story and publish it on AO3 and/or Wattpad, but the media aspect would have been gone and not in the form of photos or videos.
Repetition, parallelism, and antithesis were literary devices I used a lot throughout the series to demonstrate differences in Timothee and Sebastian’s actions and to emphasize the effect of anybody’s actions.
A groan escaped your lips as you felt someone nudge your shoulder.
“Y/N, wake up before Boss gets on your ass again. I can’t keep defending you, wake up, you’re drooling all over the papers,” the voice said in a stern way, a slight threatening undertone accompanying it.
It was Emeline. You had only assumed that you guys were on set filming a new project and that you dozed off.
As your eyes fluttered open, the bright white lights of the room caused you to flinch. Lifting your head off the feeling of a cold desk and drool-drenched papers, your eyes adjusted to the light and turned to Emeline. But as you took in her uniform and your surroundings, your eyebrows crunched in confusion.
Where were the cameras? Boom mics? Lights? Director? Where was it all? As you looked down to look at your clothes, a simple white button up and slacks, Emeline was looking at you with curious eyes. “Girl, what are you doing? Are you okay?”
“What scene are we filming right now?” you asked groggily, your head turning to Emeline.
“Scene? What scene are you even talking about? You think we in some movie?” Emeline asked with a dying chuckle.
Your heart dropped as you heard her response. Your eyes darted around the room, whiteboards with numerous math problems and charts scattered the walls. The sounds of computers clicking away gave you a sense of nostalgia. Your heart continued to get heavier and heavier as your surroundings began to become more familiar. With shaky hands you grabbed the ID card hanging from your neck on a lanyard.
NASA, National Aeronautics and Space Administration
Y/N L/N
Aerospace Engineering Intern
Issued XX/XX/XX
No, no, no, no.
With a nervous chuckle, you looked back at a concerned Emeline. “So, Em, when are we gonna meet with your girlfriend? Tuesday? Timothée’s supposed to pick us up after he’s done filming.” you said unaware of the right terms to use in your confused state.
“Who the hell is Timothy?”
“Timothée, as in Timothée Chalamet, our friend? And you know… my boyf-“ Before you could finish your sentence, Emeline busted out laughing.
“Are you okay, Y/N? I know you’re excited to go to the movies and watch Little Women, but we don’t know him in real life, like at all. What went on in your dream?”
“What?” you exasperated. “This isn’t funny, Emeline. Haha, April Fool’s, you can drop it now. Where’s everyone?”
“Y/N, are you okay? Like seriously,” Emeline asked as she put her hand on your forehead. “You coming down with something?”
“No, Emeline, are YOU okay? This isn’t-“ you paused as you looked around the familiar work place you used to intern at, “This isn’t right. I don’t work here anymore. And you never worked here either. Like- Emeline, we’re actresses. We’re in a TV show together. What the fuck is this?”
As your fellow coworkers began to notice your frantic state with your growing voice, Emeline gave you a deadpan look. “Y/N, calm down. I think you just hit your head too hard while presenting the model project earlier and maybe you’re just mixing up a really realistic dream with real life. Y/N, we’ve been NASA interns for a couple months now. Never in our lives have we ever auditioned for a single fucking role in our life. And even if we did, how did we land one where YOU started dating Timothée Chalamet.”
As your head began to throb, and Emeline stared at you waiting for an answer, you took a look at your desk. A few cute pictures of you and Emeline together here and there, standees of some of your favorite shows, but the piece that stood out the most was a Pop figurine of the Winter Soldier.
After a few moments and deciding to call it a day, considering it was already early evening, Emeline led you to clock out. As Emeline propped open the door with her elbow for you, she removed her work lanyard. “Hey, Y/N, you still up for Little Women tonight, we just got our paychecks. After all, we get to see your boyfriend as Laurie,” Emeline teased as she began laughing. But your lips didn’t budge. “‘Y/N, I have always loved you!’” she exclaimed dramatically, assuming that she was reciting one of Timothée’s famous lines from the movie, replacing Jo for your own name. When she noticed your solemn look as you gripped your work ID, she stopped. “I’m just joking, you know that right?”
“Emeline, this isn’t funny! What I had wasn’t just a dream! And there’s no way in hell this isn’t one either! You never worked here with me! You’re a famous actress! You worked on numerous movies and at first you were stingy and kind of a bitch…” Emeline is frowning now. You chuckled nervously before continuing, “But besides that, you were one of my first friends that protected me and showed me the ropes! But right now, you’re just being a real douche rubbing it in my face.” you exploded.
As Emeline stood there staring at you with wide eyes, she deeply sighed. As her head fell down, she asked, “Did I win an Oscar?”
“What?”
“In your dream. Did I ever win an Oscar?” she asked with a low voice.
“What- It wasn’t a dream for God’s sake, Emeline. You were my best friend. You helped me with everything that was going through my career and personal life with Timothée and Sebastian. You were there for me through all those tough times 24/7, so it’s really pissing me off that it’s being labeled as some dream,” you inhaled sharply after ranting with speed.
Now, your voice was sharp and sure. “And yes. One Oscar, but you’re practically nominated every year. Because you were- ARE that good of an actress.”
After your rant, Emeline released another sigh. As bizarre as your dream was to her, she didn’t want to continue stressing you out. Emeline turned on her heels and waved her keys around her finger. “We drive to work together and I drop you off every Friday. Let’s not go out today, I think you need to go home and rest.”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
“We’re here,” Emeline said, snapping you out of your trance. Frantically taking off your seatbelt and getting out the car, you thanked Emeline for the ride. She drove off as you waved goodbye.
As you turned around to face where she had dropped you off, your heart dropped. “Oh no,” you whispered. “This has to be a dream.”
Sebastian’s apartment complex.
You haven’t been here for ages, but you knew the look of that lobby anywhere, you lived here for more than a year. If everything that happened the past year was all a dream, and Little Women was still playing in theaters, was Sebastian still part of your life? Is this what it is? Your life hasn’t progressed at all. You’re still in square one.
With shaky legs you brought your feet to finally start moving, going into the lobby and into the elevator. Eventually you were staring at the similar gold plate. Apartment 406. And almost like a robot, you fished the keys out of your purse and pushed it into the key hole.
Does this mean you’re back to the time where you believed that your efforts of becoming an actress was self-made? Your eyes stung as you were afraid that maybe everything was a dream. But a dream of what your future looked like. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to relive all of this. But it still didn’t make sense, Emeline shouldn’t be here.
Your head was throbbing, and with a shaky breath, you turned your key.
…
..
.
“Y/N,” you heard a voice say. As you grumbled back in response, the voice repeated in a deep, raspy whisper.
It’s morning.
And as you felt the ghostly touch of someone’s hand going under your shirt and encircling around your waist, you jolted awake. You’re not sure if it’s because their hand was cold or it’s because you just remembered your “reality.”
“Please let it all be a dream, please, please, please,” you begged in your head. In pure fear, you slowly turned your head to the man.
And as you made eye contact with Timothée, his hair and shirt tousled and his eyes, although droopy and riddled with sleepiness, looking back at you as if he were a deer caught in headlights, you threw yourself onto him and scattered his face with kisses. “Woah, woah, woah, you okay, Y/N? I know I’m irresistible, but you look all shaken up. Bad dream?” Timothée chuckled, his voice still deep and groggy.
As you pulled away from Timothée and grabbed his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks, you stared at him with the happiest expression. “It was the worst dream ever. It was like- like if everything that happened the past like year never happened, I wasn’t your girlfriend, I wasn’t an actress, I was still working as an intern, and to top it all off I was still with-“
“What do you mean, Y/N? Wake up. Wake up, Y/N. Wake up, you’ve been in a coma for two months,” Timothée said, his expression immediately changing.
Just as yours changed, one from relief to pure terror, Timothée bursted out laughing.
“OH, SHUT THE HELL UP. STOP YOU SCARED ME,” you whined as you hit Timothée’s chest. As you turned away from him and buried your face in your pillow, Timothée’s laughs continued to fill the room. He attempted to remove the blanket covering your head but to no avail.
“It must’ve been a really scary dream, huh,” he said as his hand rested on your arm through the comforter.
“Tell me about it,” you muffled out.
Timothée chuckled at your tone. “But we’re in real life now, so can you please remove the blanket off your face?” Silence. “Please?” With a dramatic puff of air, your face was hit with a whiff of cold air as you removed the blanket from your face. “There she is,” Timothée sang.
“Whatever,” you said as you pushed his face away. As much as you were brushing it off now, your heart was still coming down from the scare you got. Even if it seemed so bizarre to suddenly go back in time as if none of the present had happened, it just seemed too real. You pinched yourself just in case. You felt it.
“You nervous for today?” Timothée asked as you made your way into the restroom.
“Of course I am. I’m actually nominated for an Oscar. Supporting actress, wow,” you replied.
It’s been about a year since that night with Timothée. A night where you both thought that you would lose each other, but now you guys are as strong as ever, officially dating. Not just official as in between the both of you, but the public knows too. And even if you received hateful remarks here and there, you both never paid mind to it or allowed it to affect your relationship.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Your hands were sweaty as Timothée stepped out of the limousine before you. From your spot in the car, you can see a variety of flashing lights and numerous people. Timothée stuck out his hand for you to take, and you swore you could here everyone take a sharp inhale when you emerged in your beautiful night get up. You’re sure that the both of you would appear on the Oscars Best Dressed video montages. When Timothée first proposed the idea of wearing a track suit to the Academy Awards, you practically screamed bloody murder. Thankfully he opted out of it.
Once you both took your respective solo photos down the red carpet, you both reunited to take photos together. With his hand on your waist, he leaned into your ear, and whispered, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look today?” And just like how he expected, your face immediately flushed as people took photos.
He smirked and laughed as the paparazzi and nearby onlookers “Ooo’d” at the interaction. Cocky little shit.
“Timothée, Y/N! Look to the front! To the right!” you heard the cameramen holler as they continued to take more photos.
After you guys had taken multiple photos, you had temporarily split to accommodate the interviewers present. “I am here with Y/N L/N joining me! What a big night for you! How are you feeling at your first Oscar event?” the interviewer greeted.
You gave them a smile, “I’m extremely nervous but whether I go home with an award or not, I’m just extremely happy and honored to even be here. It’s surreal,” you responded.
“So, how was it working on your first film, especially considering you first started out in a Netflix series? How was working with Director Marlow?”
“Well…” as you continued answering the interviewer’s questions, Timothée slowly peered behind you, catching the attention of the interviewer.
“Oh my goodness, and we also have Timothée Chalamet here with us! So… you two lovebirds, how’s it been!” As you turned around and noticed Timothée who put his arm around your shoulder you both began to laugh. “How is it being together publicly, I’m sure that things have been interesting especially since you two are quite young, tell us about it!”
“You know, relationships are definitely never easy, a lot of- a lot of commitment goes into it, and I feel like especially with the industry, people feel inclined to blame it on outside, you know, forces. That’s not always the case, I think any relationship will work if you really, really want it to work,” Timothée said. You were peering up at him with bright eyes as he continued, “And I’m extremely happy to have someone as loving and caring and just overall amazing.” As Timothée finished his explanation, the interviewer had a look of adoration for the both of you. Wrapping up any remainder interviews, you both made it into the main venue.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
“Man, when will we be able to attend the Oscars?” Anthony semi-jokingly huffed as he took a swing of his drink.
“I don’t know, Mackie, I don’t think I can relate with you on this one,” Chris Evans laughed.
“Shut your ass up,” Anthony said as he attempted to suppress a laugh.
Sebastian along with many of his other friends, who were also famous, hosted an Oscar watch party. Sebastian knows that you’ve been nominated, and he was beyond proud of you, The program had just begun and everyone began to gather their attention on the screen. Sebastian was pouring himself another glass of champagne until he heard the host say, “Today’s night is filled with actors and actresses varying from those who were once a poor girl in a rich university who then turned into the wife of a psycho British king and…” The camera suddenly focused on you giving a shy smile, who then turned to the familiar curly haired boy seated next to you. Sebastian stared at the screen as he took another sip, drowning out the rest of the host’s words, even when you weren’t on the screen anymore, he continued to stare.
Both Anthony and Chris side-eyed each other as they both noticed Sebastian’s stare. Sebastian felt two pairs of holes burn into the side of his head. When he turned, he was met with Anthony’s stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Sebastian asked.
“What are you talking about? I always look like this,” he shrugged.
“You good, man?” Chris asked his long time friend.
Sebastian sighed as he swirled the drink in his glass. “Look, I know what you guys are thinking, but seriously, I’m fine. I’m over it. It’s been a year,” he said as he downed the remainder of his champagne, “Trust me, guys.” He peered down and got up, “I need to refill my cup.”
Anthony sighed as he saw Sebastian make his way back to the table. “He’s never been a good liar,” he said behind his glass. Chris nodded in agreement.
Sounds of champagne bottles opening and glasses clinking filled the room as the show continued.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
It’s at this point in time where you may have led yourself to believe that you were on your way to get your first Oscar as a rookie. Both you and Timothée’s hearts were beating rapidly in your chest as you both stared at the stage with intensity. Your fingers were twisted as the announcer opened the envelope.
“And the Oscar goes to…”
It’s a dream. It all feels like it. And you were afraid that if they called your name, you’d wake up in the same busy office, all your moments spent with Timothée, Sebastian, Emeline, and Geo gone, just like that. That all of this was created by your bored little head in a job that you thought you loved, but really didn’t.
And so when you didn’t hear the call of your name, you smiled and began clapping. You celebrated their win, and a new opening for you. Because if you had won, it would’ve for sure been a dream. Too good to be true. Too fast. Too unreal.
As the night came to an end, after celebrating with numerous celebrities, and eating food to the point your dress began to feel tighter, Timothée prepared to go to bed. You followed after him, but not without noticing the envelope below the mail slot you had noticed upon entering your apartment that you had now placed on your kitchen counter.
The envelope had “S.S” written on it. Only a genius could figure out who it’s from. You stood against your counter as you opened the letter.
Dear Y/N,
Congratulations on your nomination with your new movie! You probably already know who it is (if it wasn’t obvious enough) especially considering the fact I went through all the trouble to send you a physical letter. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to you, a year was it? I’m glad to see you continue working on your career, hearing you in that British accent was pretty cool.
Now for the more deep stuff, I know I could’ve called you, but there’s something about using good old paper and pen. I don’t want to say that what we had was a right person, wrong time thing, because it wasn’t. I was the wrong person. And I’m glad that you’re finally with someone who will value you in a way that I never did. He treats you right. He loves you. Something I took for granted when I was in his shoes.
I don’t know when we’ll ever see each other again. But please know I’m forever rooting for you.
Love you,
Sebastian.
As a small smile rested on your lips, you carefully folded the paper back to its original state and slid it into a drawer. You haven’t heard from Sebastian in a very long time. All you know is that he’s killing it with his Marvel projects and what not, but other than that, a space grew between the both of you, which was for the best.
Your bare feet padded along the hardwood floor as you made your way into bed with Timothée, who was already fast asleep. You lifted the covers and slipped in, Timothée, feeling your presence and the bed dipping, made more room for you and took you in his arms.
You sighed with content as your body relaxed and you inhaled the smell of Timothée’s body wash.
note: WAHHHHHHH IM SO SAD man, this is so unreal you guys, you have officially reached the of TELL ME, NOT HIM. thank you to all of those who have decided to read this fanfic even with my stupid ass upload schedule. i want to publicly apologize to any of the stans of either side who i have hurt IM SORRY MAN I HAD TO DO IT. this was my first genuinely complete fanfic and although there have been many errors and bumps along the way, i’m pretty happy with it. but most importantly, i’m happy and thankful to all of you who took your time to read this series. so much love, keep in touch because this definitely isn’t the end of the franchise and please stick around for my other works outside of tmnh! don’t forget to participate in the wrap up event if you are interested!
In celebration of the famous series, “TELL ME, NOT HIM,” airing it’s last chapter, you’ve been invited to it’s wrap up party! Whether you’re bringing Timothee Chalamet or Sebastian Stan as your plus one, we want to hear you! Hosted by zsiopao, here’s what the party will look like!
During this event, you get the opportunity to:
ASK ANY KIND OF QUESTION ENTAILING THE SERIES AND AUTHOR this could be varying from thought process, original plot points, author’s standpoint, and more!
VIEW FUN FACTS THAT THE AUTHOR MAY HAVE UP HER SLEEVE oh brother, this is the really random stuff that will be explained according to my discretion if not asked, which is super unlikely considering how random they could be.
Although there is no necessary cut off for submissions, please get in your submissions before APRIL 21ST. All questions submitted after this date will still be answered, but is not guaranteed to be showcased on the official wrap up event post! You may submit your questions through my ask box or private messages! You may also use the comments, but if it is after April 21st, I prefer that you refrain from using the comments to ask questions.
As a farewell, I’ll miss writing for this series. Although. I had times where I felt like bashing my head into the wall, this has been a very positive part of my life. I had fun writing this series and I hope you all look forward to any future works I have. I don’t think I can ever properly express the gratitude I have for all of you who have read this series. Love you all so much!
He was respectful, humorous, organized, passionate, handsome, you name it. He took care of his body, his mind, and his overall well-being.
He has a routine, he’s met his goals and big dreams, people love him.
When you’re around Sebastian, you feel like you can turn away from him and look back and he’d still be there.
Despite graduating in such a prestigious and demanding major, it didn’t mean your brain was a constructive site. You had slip ups, you had brain farts, you weren’t a system.
To you, Timothée wasn’t everything.
He wasn’t the most organized and at times his diet consisted of cereal and three iced coffees. Sometimes you wished he would eat a vegetable. Sebastian benches heavier weights, more than what Timothée can do for sure. If they were both put in the ring, Sebastian would win, hands down.
You can bicker and banter with Timothée all day, but at the end of the day he knows you still care about him. He can read hundreds of “fans” tell him that you aren’t suitable for him, but he’d still blush every time you look at him.
They’re different.
Sebastian could cook you a filling breakfast that wasn’t burnt, while Timothée could publicly take you to your favorite local coffee shop any morning you wanted, the same local coffee shop you had to enter by yourself if you wanted something. Even if you wanted to sit down with your loved one and watch people pass by on the street through the window, talking about your weekend plans, Sebastian wouldn’t couldn’t do it.
Timothée knows that if he were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t let strangers determine who he can or can’t be with.
If they’re so different, why is Timothée’s face slowly replacing Sebastian’s? It’s a new apartment, but the situation is all the same.
“For… me?” you asked slowly, your eyes solemnly staring at Timothée. As Timothée stared at you with wide eyes, obvious fear written in them, you scoffed. “I’ve heard something like this before,” you muttered under your breath as you looked away from Timothée.
Timothée’s heart dropped as he understood what you were implying. “Y/N, I’m nothing like him, I had a good reason, and I know that me not taking this role wouldn’t-”
“Timothée, he knows you! You talked to him! He admires you! It’s more than you not wanting to take the role, it’s the fact that you probably slipped my name!”
“Y/N, I didn’t slip your name. Well, technically, I did- But It’s nothing like that. Just listen,” Timothée’s voice began to match yours. As you raked your fingers through your hair all your anxiety and past traumas began to recircle. It’s almost like you’re taking an elevator to the top of the industry, while others are climbing with their bare hands and feet.
“I have nothing more than a Netflix show I didn’t deserve under my resume, Timothée. Tell me it’s not a coincidence that a prestigious man who has worked with you before, who approached you, now wants me to audition for his movie.”
“Y/N, he came up to me and we talked about you but I’m not the one who recommended you. I’m not the reason why he wants you in the cast. Believe me!”
You cut off Timothée with a scoff once again. “I thought you understood what I was going through Timothée. Was everything I was saying just going through deaf ears?”
“I do understand what you went through, Y/N. I’m nothing like him. I want you to know that. I would never hurt you, especially when I’m so- so aware of your situations, past and present. Hell, I was even part of it.”
“Then, why, Timothée, why am I here again?” you asked in a wavering voice. Before you could continue, Timothée stepped closer to you, in an attempt to give you a comforting hug, but instead you took a step back.
As Timothée’s hands remained in the air before falling down slack by his sides, he slid his hands down his face. “Let me explain, Y/N,” he said in a low, yet stern tone. One that wasn’t asking you to listen, but rather, it held a sense of strictness. All he wants is for you to listen to him. Timothée just got you. He didn’t want to lose you this fast.
FLASHBACK
“Timothée, “ someone said behind Timothée as he waited for you to come back inside from talking with Sebastian. As Timothée whipped around to the deep voice that called him, he turned to see one of the directors of his past films standing behind him, a glass of chardonnay in his hand.
“Oh, hello, sir!” Timothée said as he shook the man’s hand.
“‘Sir?’ Timothée, just call me Marlow. Come on, we worked together. People who I hate only call me sir. How are you tonight? This party is stunning,” Marlow had said as he peered around the venue, his eyes glazing through the crowd.
Timothée let out a filler laugh, “Well, um, my night has been, fantastic, all thanks to Rachel really. Without the show, who knows what I’d be doing tonight-” As Timothée looked at the latter, who has yet to respond or react, he followed his eyes scanning eyes. “Are you looking for someone, Marlow?” At the sound of his name, Marlow turned his attention back to Timothée, and without sugarcoating his original intentions, he answered Timothée.
“Yes, I am, actually. Where’s your little girlfriend?”
“Y/N? Oh, she’s not my girlfriend, but she’ll be back soon, she just needed to take care of some quick business. You know how persistent interviewers can get,” Timothée replied. Marlow expressed a small smile behind his glass as he heard Timothée’s response. ‘Didn’t even mention her name, yet, he knows who I’m referring to… Young love,’ he thought.
As a few seconds passed, Marlow sighed. “Since it looks like she won’t be coming back any time soon, I’ll say it. I’d like for the both of you to star in my next film. I believe I sent out my little assistant to inform you both, but I just wanted to make sure I got it directly to you. Don’t get me wrong, your performance in Silver Spoon was good, but her’s… I need that for my next film. So get the word to her, would you?”
Timothée, who’s heart began to beat in excitement, stopped Marlow before he could walk away. “Wait, um, Marlow, I think I’m going to have to decline your offer…” Timothée knew he would get an earful from his manager at the fact that he even attempted to decline an offer from such a prestigious director known for his award-winning films. But he knew that this was your opportunity to be independent and shoot all the rumors of you being dependent on him down. He knew that you were a talented actor all by yourself, to be honest, all the Silver Spoon scenes that delivered you praise didn’t really have a whole lot of him in it anyways. He also knew that as long as he was on that screen in the film, people with no lives would only continue to slander you as a leeching actress.
“Decline…?” Marlow said as his eyes became dull. “Well, that’s certainly a first… “
“It’s not you, Marlow, it’s just that-”
“Well, as long as you make sure Y/N shows up to my auditions, that’s all that really matters. If you change your mind, I’m sure there’ll still be space for you. Maybe the opposing side’s commanding officer? Well actually, not unless we get Pedro Pascal instead-”
Timothée stood there mouth slightly ajar as he realized that Marlow really just wanted to make sure you were on the cast. ‘Good enough for me,’ he thought.
“Well, Timothée, that’s alright, just promise me you’ll make sure she comes. This film needs Y/N L/N, not Timothée Chalamet’s co-star,” Marlow said before he walked away and blended with the crowd. Timothée sighed to himself in relief.
“Ouch,” Timothée thought back at the fact Marlow didn’t really care as much as he thought he did about his role. As Timothée lifted his hand in a small wave, from the corner of his eyes, he could see your approaching figure from the glass wall.
END OF FLASHBACK
“Y/N, please, listen to me first. If after you’ve heard my story, and you decide that you don’t accept what I did or why we’re even in this position, then we can call it quits. Just please, listen to me,” Timothée said as his eyebrows furrowed and he stared at you with pleading eyes. You didn’t say anything but rather gave him a look of anticipation, waiting for his response.
“I’ve liked you since I met you, Y/N. I’ve never felt this way before, and- and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I ended up losing you, because I repeated some dumb shit your ex did,” he stuttered out. “But listen to me, Y/N, he came up to me. I didn’t even bring up your name- Y/N all he was interested in was you. Sure, he wanted to work with me, but I declined for the sole purpose that I wanted you to have a spotlight, and show to those people that you don’t need me or Sebastian.”
“So, you think the only way for me to stand out is that if there were no one else around?” you asked as you stared at the floor. Fatigue had began to settle in your body, your head beginning to throb.
“That’s not what I wanted it to appear as Y/N. I just thought that it would be better for you. I thought this could be your opportunity to show yourself in a way that- in a way that people can finally recognize your talents, Y/N. I want people to see you the way that I see you.”
Your heart throbbed at Timothée’s last sentence. You didn’t want to be Sebastian Stan’s girlfriend. You didn’t want to be Sebastian Stan’s charity work. You didn’t want to be Emeline Davis’s co-star, nor do you want to be known as Timothée’s. You wanted to be known as Y/N L/N. And you can’t do that if your name always appears second to Timothée’s on a movie poster.
What’s the harm in Timothée taking a step back from this role?
As you stood in your apartment wondering why you were so afraid of getting help in a business like this, you realized it was because of the way Sebastian handed you your first role on a silver platter. You can’t go a day without picking up your script and wondering if you even deserved the privilege of delivering it. Because of him, you can’t feel proud of yourself, because, in your head, there was another Miyu Kennedy that was better than you in all aspects.
You clenched your fists as you realized how idiotic you were to even compare Timothée to Sebastian. “I’m sorry, Timothée,” you began to cry into your hands. Timothée’s ears perked immediately at the sound of the first sob. Without hesitation he was by your side, arms around you and you dug your face into his chest. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to fight with you, because you had good intentions. And I’m sorry that I compared you to him.”
Deja vu.
That’s what it was. It felt the same, and you were beginning to feel the same. But this time, you recognized what was the actual problem.
Timothée felt his eyes sting as he physically felt your body melt and give out. You were tired. The past months have been hell for you. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I’m here for you… I’m sorry that I made you feel this way, that I made it seem as if I had no faith in you. Truth is that I do. I just- I’m scared, Y/N. I don’t want you to see me as him. I’ve always been afraid that I can’t give you what you need, I always felt like that you should be with him, but not anymore.”
A few moments of silence had passed, but the sound of your phone buzzing on a nearby table disturbed it. As he led you to the couch, he went to go grab your phone for you. “I’ll get it for you,” he said. Upon picking up your phone, the name, “Sebastian,” glowed on the screen. Timothée clicked his tongue, “It’s… It’s… Sebastian… I can just ignore it-“
“No, no, it’s okay. I need to talk to him,” you said as you sniffled and composed yourself. Once Timothée handed you your phone, he excused himself to a different room. Hitting the green icon, you waited to hear his voice.
“Hello? Y/N?” you heard Sebastian’s voice. It was it’s usual deep, yet somehow pitched, voice.
“Hey, Sebastian,” your voice shaky from the crying. “What’s up?”
“Are you okay? You sound like you were just crying, what’s wrong?” Sebastian said, his instinctual response coming out before he could even think.
“It’s nothing really, so why’d you call?” you asked in an attempt to not speak about your audition.
Sebastian didn’t reply for a few moments, but soon you heard him take a deep shaky breath. “I just wanted to let you know that… I really do want to move on. I want to get over you, I’m on that road now, because I just don’t think there’s room for me in your life, at least not right now. It’s so that we can just be… happier? Living our lives, I guess. I don’t really want to go on a whole tangent about it. But I just- I felt like I needed to say this, and let you know that I’m not trying to win you back, because I think we’ll be happier this way,” Sebastian spilled. “Fuck, Y/N, this is really hard,” he laughed. You gave a small laugh in return as a few more tears went down your cheek. Tears that signified an end to a period in your life where you were tested and your value amongst people were determined. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t do better. I wasn’t there for you in the way that I should’ve, and I’m so sorry I fucked up the past few months. I didn’t know- Fuck, no, I did know what I was doing, I just didn’t know the weight and consequences that came with it. You deserved so much better, I’m sorry for everything I caused. You don’t have to forgive me-“
“Sebastian-“ you cut off, but Sebastian wouldn’t allow it.
“No, scratch that, I don’t necessarily want you to forgive me any time soon, because as I fix myself as a person, I want you to know that I will change. I will do it.”
You held back tears as you listened to Sebastian, and as Sebastian listened to your harbored breaths, he said goodbye. “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry… for everything. Till I see you next time…” With that, he hung up.
You set your phone down on the couch as you rest your back on your couch. Tears of relief, sadness, happiness, and pure emotion ran down your cheeks. Sooner or later, you felt the warmth of a certain boy wrap around your shoulder. As you continued to cry, your body resting against Timothée, a weight on your shoulders began to lift. You felt safe in Timothée’s arms. And as you both sat on your couch, the sound of the AC and Timothée’s heartbeat coinciding, your hands clenched around the front of his shirt. You didn’t want him to go away.
For the first time in forever, you looked away and looked back to not see Sebastian there. A barren spot, with nothing but his footprints in the dirt.
But if you looked a little bit further, Timothée was there. He was there waiting for you all this time. He’s been there staring at the back of your head wondering when you’d turn around and look in his direction, anticipating for the moment your eyes would connect with his green ones.
Sebastian and Timothée are different.
But in a sense, they’re the same.
They both love you, but one may say the other loved you more.
One loved you so much that he had to leave, and the other… Well…
NOTE: THE END, YAYYYY thank you to everyone who stayed for this journey or who just discovered it, my heart is breaking and i hope you aren’t disappointed. <333333 how y’all rockin with it, am sweating rn. OK BUT LISTEN, YOU HAVE TO READ THE EPILOGUE WHEN THAT MF COMES OUT LIKE IT’S ACTUALLY VERY IMPORTANT SO PLEASE DO READ THE EPILOGUE WHEN IT COMES OUT. a more detailed post-tmnh announcement post will be created but for right now, here’s the main event of tmnh ending: A FULL BLOWN “TELL ME, NOT HIM.” Q&A. THIS CAN RANGE FROM “oh why did you write this” or “what was your thought process throughout the whole story” or “what did you mean by-” YOU FEEL?? when submitting questions, you can do it in messages, comments, etc, if you send them Privately, please know that I will post them so let me know if you’d like to be known and credited for the question or if you’d like to stay anonymous. MORE DETAILS SOON. SO READ THE EPILOGUE WHEN IT COMES OUT OR ELSE.
