timchalamet-devoted

[timchalamet-devoted]

Bones and All (2022)

Directed by Luca Guadagnino

[timchalamet-devoted]

[timchalamet-devoted]

Timothée Chalamet with his former drama teacher, Harry Shifman, at LaGuardia High School today. He advocated for Timothée to be accepted into the school’s drama program after his audition was initially rejected. He also helped Timothée run through the script of ‘A Complete Unknown’.

[timchalamet-devoted]

Midnights In Manhattan

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

Since he was the second most voted for in the poll, here’s a little story for those who wanted one about him.

***

It was almost midnight in Manhattan, and the city hummed like a lullaby. Cars whispered down 5th Avenue. Someone’s jazz record bled through the thin walls next door. In Y/n’s bedroom—four floors up in a crooked pre-war walk-up—her window was cracked open just enough to let in the June air and the scent of cigarettes from the alley below.

She heard the creaking of the fire escape. But she didn’t flinch, because she knew that sound like the thrum of her own heartbeat.

A second later, a shadow climbed into her window. Skinny jeans, hoodie, messy brown curls that clung to his forehead from the summer sweat and maybe something else—tears, maybe.

"Timothée?" she whispered, sitting up in her bed, her silk sheets slipping off one shoulder like a scene from a movie they weren’t allowed to be in.

He didn’t say anything.

Just let the screen door squeal as he pushed it open, stepping into her little bedroom like he lived there, and collapsing onto her bed. His arms wrapped around her waist without asking. As he buried his face in her stomach, curling into her like a small child, like her body was the only home he had left.

“Timmy…” she whispered, as she ran her fingers through his hair, soft and damp, the way he liked it. “What happened?”

He shook his head.

His breath was hot against her cotton tank top. He smelled like rain, subway metal, and mint gum. She didn’t ask again. Not yet.

He whined, just a little, a sound that cracked her chest. “I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You don’t need anywhere else,” she whispered. “You have me. You always have me.”

Outside, sirens screamed down the avenue like a warning. But inside, time stopped.

Timothée clung tighter. “I hate that I can’t be with you during the day. I hate your parents. I hate that they think I’m a joke.”

She kissed the top of his head. “They don’t know what love is. They forgot. That’s not our fault.”

“I got rejected again. From that callback I told you about.”

“Oh, baby…”

“I’m tired of wanting something so badly and being told I’m not enough.”

Y/n pulled him up gently so their faces were close, foreheads pressed together in the moonlight like a prayer. “You’re more than enough. You’re everything.”

His lips trembled. “Why do you believe in me so much?”

“Because I saw the way your hands shook when you held that script. Because you cry during sad movies and write poetry on napkins and recite Shakespeare on the L train like you’re in the Globe Theatre. Because you were born for this, Timothée. And because I love you.”

She felt him smile, just a little, against her cheek.

“I love you more,” he whispered, like it hurt.

Then, almost shyly, he climbed into her lap, curling against her like a cat seeking warmth. She let him. Held him. Let his weight crush the air out of her lungs and didn’t complain once.

Outside, the moon hung heavy over the city like it was watching them.

Inside, he fell asleep with his ear over her heart and her fingers tracing the map of his back.

And somewhere between the buzz of streetlights and the sound of sirens in the distance, the girl in love with a boy her parents didn’t approve of decided she’d marry him someday. On a rooftop. Barefoot. With wildflowers in her hair and the whole city below them like a fairytale.

The hours passed like melted sugar, slow and golden. By 3 a.m., the room was filled with soft shadows and his quiet breathing. The kind of stillness that only lives between lovers and secrets.

Y/n lay awake, watching the ceiling and brushing the backs of her fingers over Timothée’s spine like she was painting stars into his skin. He stirred occasionally, mumbling incoherent little things.

But she didn’t answer. She just kissed his temple and held him tighter.

Around 4:17, he woke up—barely—his lashes fluttering like moth wings, and whispered, “Will you still love me if I never make it?”

Y/n didn’t hesitate, she didn't have to. “I’ll love you if you’re just the guy who reads me plays in bed. I’ll love you if you become a legend. I’ll love you if you work at the record store forever and never leave the city.”

He looked up at her then, his eyes glassy and boyish, and smiled so small it nearly broke her.

“That’s the only kind of famous I wanna be,” he said. “The kind that matters to you.”

She laughed, soft and sleepy. “You’re already a star to me.”

They stayed like that—half-tangled in each other, half-awake and whole-hearted—until the sky outside her window began to blush pale pink.

Birds chirped on the fire escape.

Downstairs, the deli opened. A dog barked somewhere far away.

And Timothée reached for her hand beneath the covers like a child afraid of thunder.

“Let’s run away one day,” he whispered. “Just me and you. Let’s leave all the people who don’t understand and go somewhere with big skies and nobody asking what we’re going to be when we grow up.”

She smiled, and placed a kiss to his knuckles. “We’re already everything we need to be.”

He didn’t answer. Just pulled her close again and tucked his head into the curve of her neck, like he could crawl inside her ribs and sleep next to her heart.

And outside, the sun rose slowly over Manhattan, but inside, it was still midnight, and always would be—just for them. The hour of secret relationships, fire escapes, and a boy who dreamed too big, and the girl who dared to believe in him anyway.

[timchalamet-devoted]

[timchalamet-devoted]

A LONG OVERDUE WIN FOR TIMMY 🥹

[timchalamet-devoted]

Pure gold <3

[timchalamet-devoted]

💚▪️💚▪️💚

IG credit to konbini

[timchalamet-devoted]

Director Josh Safdie, Timothée Chalamet and Tyler, the Creator film a scene on the set of "Marty Supreme" in Midtown Manhattan on November 2, 2024 in New York City. (Footage by James Devaney/GC Video)

[timchalamet-devoted]

Timothée on set with Tyler the Creator in New York!!

[timchalamet-devoted]

This is the type of thing only Timothée would do

I love him so much 😭 <3

[timchalamet-devoted]

Best Friend’s Brother

Info - mention of drinking, jealousy, guilt, best friends brother

Zimra and I were best friends. We’d been friends since our ninth grade year and now we were in eleventh. Zimra’s older brother Zeffirelli was a year above us.

I supposed I’d always found Zeffirelli cute. I liked his passion, his wild hair, and piercing eyes. He had the most creative ideas. He loved chess and his cigarettes. I found his speeches interesting when they were usually called long winded.

I’d had a small crush on him for a bit now. The past couple months he and I had gotten closer. I’d joined the chess club and Zimra had been having parties more often. This meant that I was over much more often. I felt jealous of Juliette, who seemed to be his main rival. He was always just kind to me.

I wondered what kindness meant from a boy like him. Surely, he was the type to desire intrigue, competition, or a chase. He was likely the type who wanted to convince a girl to be his. He would probably love to sway a mind.

Last night I’d stayed the night with Zimra. She had been stood up for a date. I’d brought over some alcohol I’d pinched from my older sister. We’d attempted to do a spa night and relax to make her feel better. Unfortunately, Zimra, feeling depressed, had snuck extra drinks. She’d gotten wasted pretty fast since she was slight like her brother.

I’d rubbed her back while she’d puked in the toilet. I’d made sure she got to bed alright. She was turned on her side so she wouldn’t choke. Her sound machine made the sounds of a thunderstorm. I also made sure water and pain killers were placed on her bedside table.

I wandered downstairs to get some food in the morning. Zimra’s mother was out of town. I was surprised to catch Zeffirelli making some pancakes,

“Is Z coming down?” He asked. I shook my head and yawned. I sat on the stool by the kitchen bar. I laid my head down in exhaustion.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Zeffirelli said next.

“Really?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes,” I said gratefully.

“Alright then,” he grinned. He flipped the pancakes and whistled a tune I didn’t know. I enjoyed watching him cook. He moved fluidly. He was so elegant, all long limbs, wild hair, and soft skin.

“I have to tell you something,” she said slowly as he slid the blueberry pancake onto the plate. He pushed the meal towards me. He also handed over the syrup once he was done with it.

“Yes?” I asked. I felt silly as I tried to cut my pancake elegantly. I didn’t even know what that even would entail.

“I-I am doing this new thing where I always tell the truth. I also am apologising to those I feel deserve it,” he explained awkwardly.

I took a bite of his delicious breakfast. It was savoury and sweet and nearly melted in my mouth. He let out a long sigh before I could compliment his abilities.

“I, well, y/n,” he started. He ran a hand through his messy hair. I kept my eyes on him and waited.

“I have had a crush on you for quite a long time. I think you are just the sweetest thing in the world. I know it’s so bad, because you are my little sister’s best friend-“

“I have a crush on you too,” I blurted.

“Wait really?” He asked giddily. He looked at me with the goofiest and most adorable smile I’d ever seen. Then it fell dramatically.

“No, I shouldn’t be happy.”

“You can be happy,” I smirked and leaned across the island. I let my shirt collar ride low. I enjoyed when his eyes flickered down and he gulped.

“It, it isn’t right,” he stuttered.

“Come on Zeffirelli,” I crooned.

“Come on what?”

“Come here,” I coaxed. He moved as if he was out of control of his body. He was soon nose to nose with me.

He leaned forward and pecked my lips experimentally. He looked fiercely dreamy. He touched his lips as if I’d blessed them. I giggled. His gaze snapped to me when I did and he melted.

“I want to do that again so fucking badly,” he swore under his breath.

“Alright then love bug,” I replied. I yanked him to me by the leather jacket he wore. It was ridiculous to wear inside but I loved it all the same. I pressed my lips firmly to his. Our mouthes slotted together perfectly. His large hands moved to cup my face. I felt goosebumps all over. Every time he tried to pull away, I drew him back in. He would make a small adorable noise, and accept my affections.

I was drunk on his lips. My heart was pounding like a drum. My body thrummed with excitement. Everything inside me was on fire with delight. I loved this more than I could express.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Zimra’s voice screeched from the bottom of the stairs. We jumped apart as though electrocuted. We were both hot with guilt and embarrassment.

“I told you,” Zeffirelli murmured.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[timchalamet-devoted]

It's almost like stans in the Timmy fandom forget he struggles heavily with anxiety and probably had any multitude of reasons why he wasn't comfortable showing off his new haircut at the Dune screenings that he absolutely had to get for his JOB (i.e. he's not used to it yet, Jamie wasn't available to style him, he didn't fucking feel like it). Why do people jump to the conclusion that he's unwell or he's purposely slumming it wearing a backwards cap when we KNOW he knows how to dress and usually tries to match Zendaya's verve whenever possible???

Just say y'all wanna criticize and overanalyze every single thing he does and keep it moving, I'm trying to support my man out here. Or better yet make yourselves useful and find more clips of the second screening WE NEED THE FOOTAGE ty and good day.

[timchalamet-devoted]

It's already incredible. Imagine what the whole film will do to us

he’s just perfect i’m speechless

[timchalamet-devoted]

Number 10 and 22 from this list for Timothee

https://www.tumblr.com/sickficgirl025/755398508413124608

I can't access the link, could you maybe send me a screenshot instead? :)

[timchalamet-devoted]

A sick Lee maybe on a road trip to a vacation spot and he starts feeling unwell during the drive and he worries about ruining all the fun they are supposed to have but Reader reassures him and they still end up having a good time even though Lee is ill

Thanks 😊 love you 😘

Love you, too!

Anywhere

You were walking along the corn field's edge, stretching your legs after the long hours in the truck, when suddenly you felt strong arms grab you from the side and pull you into a near crushing hug. Your shriek was cut short by a hand over your mouth.

"Gotcha!" the source of your favorite voice in the world teased. Lee pecked you on the cheek, then let you free. You playfully scowled at him and punched him in the arm as you caught your breath.

"You really ought to pay more attention to your surroundings. I could have been a predator, you know," Lee continued. He let out a cute growl and crouched like he was about to pounce. But instead, he grabbed your hand and pulled you down to lay in the tall stalks and stare at the clouds. The two of you spent several minutes in companionable silence, hidden from the world, just holding hands, before he rolled over on his side to look at you.

"If you could go absolutely anywhere in the Lower 48, where would you go?" he asked, twirling a finger into a strand of your loose hair.

You bit your lip and looked up at the clear blue sky in thought. A wave of excitement flashed across your face and disappeared just as quickly.

"You made your idea face. Where is it?" he prodded.

You sat up and hugged your knees. "It's too far," you lamented.

"Just tell me." He looked up at you with an irresistible pout.

"Well...I've always wanted to see Niagara Falls since I was a little girl and saw it on a postcard."

Lee flashed a big grin and ran to the passenger side of the truck, all but ripping the glove box open to retrieve his map. He buried his face in it on his walk back and nearly tripped over an uneven patch of ground. You giggled, and he glared. Once Lee settled back into his spot next to you, his long, thin index finger set to work tracing the lines of the interstate highways from your current spot in the Midwest.

"We could be there tomorrow if we leave now, just in time for your birthday!" Lee exclaimed.

"Really?!" you replied in disbelief.

"Anything for my girl." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

You blushed and dropped your head onto Lee's shoulder. You felt him rest his cheek on your hair as he let out a quiet, contented sigh.

<><><><><>

Soon, the two of you were back on the road. Lee was singing along with George Strait's "Amarillo by Morning" when he was interrupted by a cough. You pulled out your bottle of water to let him have a drink.

"Thanks. Just got a tickle in my throat." He cleared his throat several more times over the next hour or two. When the coughing flared again, you took over driving.

"Are you feeling okay?" you asked worriedly when he got back into the truck.

"I'm fine. Just tired." You thought you detected some congestion in his tone.

"Here. Drink more water," you instructed as you handed him the bottle once more.

"Yes, ma'am," he quipped sarcastically. He sank down in his seat, though, when you pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow at him. He then proceeded to take a swig.

As you drove, Lee's coughing worsened and his nose began to run. The poor thing shivered in his sleep as he leaned against the passenger door despite the summer heat. He didn't wake until he felt the truck come to a stop three hours later.

"Why are we at a motel?" he asked groggily and rubbed his eyes.

"I need to stop and you need to rest," you replied.

"We should keep driving."

"No, you can't get good, recuperative rest while sitting up in the truck, even if I drive. And I am dangerously close to dozing off. Give me the stash of money so I can go get us a room."

Lee just stared at you. He was used to making the plans and calling the shots.

"Give. Me. The. Stash," you repeated in a stilted tone.

His deep huff sent him into another coughing fit. He wordlessly caved and handed you the wad of cash from his boot as he caught his breath. You left him in the truck to walk into the office to retrieve keys.

One bright side of your lifestyle was traveling light, so you could focus on helping Lee inside without making multiple trips to the truck. He collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. You worked the boots off his feet and pulled the covers over his body. Your hand instantly recoiled at the heat radiating from his forehead when you checked for fever. You quickly grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, wet it down, and gently wiped his forehead and neck to provide him with some cooling relief.

Lee's eyes fluttered open, and he greeted you with a strained half smile. "We need to get back on the road early in the morning to stick to our timeline," he rasped.

"Let's worry about that in the morning," you whispered. You sat beside him on the bed and ran pushed the damp hair from his forehead. "We're not going anywhere as long as you are feverish."

"But-" he started to argue.

"But nothing. And if you are about to bring up my birthday, it's just another day."

"You only turn 20 once. No longer a teenager." He grinned and gently tapped your nose with his finger before letting his arm flop back to the bed.

"Only you are worried about that, old man," you teased. It had been a personal point of moral contention for Lee that he, a man in his 20s, was dating a quote-unquote teenaged girl. But he was enchanted by you ever since he met you at the county fair last year, right before your 19th birthday.

Lee feigned offense by narrowing his eyes at you, but his playfulness was overriden by another round of coughing.

"I'm going to walk over to the grocery store to get you some cough drops and cold medicine," you said in response, tucking him in tightly under the blanket. "Just lay here and try to rest more while I'm out."

The trip to the store was quick, but Lee was already sound asleep when you returned. You let him rest and snuggled up beside him in bed. Every now and then, you felt him shiver as his fever flared, and another round of chills shook his body. You were grateful, though, that his coughing subsided for a while, allowing him a few hours of solid rest until he woke you from deep slumber with his violent hacking around 2am.

You dosed him with cold medicine and turned on a hot shower in hopes that the steam would ease his breathing. He sat in the bathtub floor as you lathered shampoo and rinsed his hair and did your best to wash the sweat off his body. He weakly toweled himself off with your help.

"How are you feeling?" you asked from your perch on the bathroom counter as he sat on the edge of the tub. You scanned his face and observed the dark purple circles under his eyes and shakiness of the hand that ran through his hair.

"A little more human than earlier," he replied quietly. His voice was a little less gravelly thanks to the humidity in the bathroom.

You smirked. "That's good. I got us some snacks at the store. You should at least nibble on something before you go back to bed to keep up your strength."

"I feel wide awake. We can get back on the road and drive for a while."

"You should really get more rest, Lee. Otherwise, it may catch up with you while we're out in the middle of nowhere."

"I can't rest knowing that we have somewhere to be. Besides, I can either be miserable in bed, or miserable and at least making progress toward our destination."

You just blinked at him and sighed deeply. "Are you sure you feel up to it?" You felt his forehead. At least he wasn't running a fever. He simply nodded in return and leaned into your touch.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. "Okay. Fine. But if we have to stop in the middle of the forest because you get worse, I swear you are never going to hear the end of it."

Lee chuckled and stood from his seat. "I would expect nothing less." He placed a hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead as he scooted by you to open the door. You crossed your arms and shook your head, though you temporarily distracted from your ire when Lee's towel dropped, revealing those perfect buns of his.

He walked out of the bathroom and noted the time on the alarm clock by the bed. He turned back to you and grinned. "Happy birthday, love."

<><><><><>

Thanks to your lack of luggage, the two of you were back on the road quickly as soon as Lee was dressed again. He opted to drive so you could get some more sleep since you had stayed up caring for him. You didn't argue because you could barely keep your eyes open.

A few hours later, you woke to the sound of Lee coughing again. You squirmed in your seat and blinked the sleep from your eyes. "Where are we?" you asked groggily.

"Ohio. We just crossed the state line a few minutes ago," Lee replied. The hoarseness had returned.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'll be fine for a little while longer, then we can just switch out driving."

"If you want to pull over, I can drive now after a short bathroom break."

"No offense, but you drive too slow. That's fine most of the time, but right now we are on a deadline."

"Wha- my driving is just fine!" You crossed your arms and pouted. He looked over at you and pulled a face, which broke your ire and made you laugh. You could never stay mad at him for long. He laughed, but the exertion instigated a coughing fit.

"Pull over," you demanded.

"Not yet," he replied once he recovered his breath.

"You need to rest. Otherwise, you won't be able to enjoy the falls with me. That matters more to me than seeing them alone." Ha. You knew that would play on his feelings.

Lee paused and released a deep sigh. "Fine. But we keep going. I can rest just fine in the passenger seat."

"Deal," you replied, flashing him a grin.

He pulled over into a wooded alcove so you could both get out and stretch. You tossed the cold medicine toward him. He winced.

"This stuff tastes disgusting, you know," Lee complained.

"Anything for your girl, right?" You winked, and he grumbled - but he complied.

You took over driving for the next stretch of the trip. Lee quickly fell asleep, hugging his legs and using his knees as a pillow. Before getting back into the truck, he had shown you the upcoming turns on the map, but you wouldn't need to turn for at least 100 miles - long enough to forget the specifics. You unknowingly took a wrong turn and followed the highway south, when you should have been traveling northeast. Lee came to a few hours later and asked how far you had gone.

"I'm not sure. The last town I saw was Fremont."

He frowned and snatched the map, frantically searching for the grid coordinates for the town. His face dropped. "[Y/N], we are heading away from New York now."

"B- but I took the road you said."

"We needed to turn off this highway about an hour ago."

You felt the blood drain from your face. "Oh," was all you could muster. You pulled over at the next driveway, jumped out of the truck, and slammed the door. Lee met you at the tailgate.

"Please don't yell at me." You cringed as you saw the disappointment in his face.

"Yell? Oh, babe, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself. If we hadn't stopped at the motel last night, we would be making great time. And if I hadn't been asleep, you wouldn't have missed your turn. I have single-handedly ruined your birthday." He kicked the tire to release some frustration.

You laid one hand on his arm and the other on the opposite cheek to encourage him to look at you. "Shouldn't I be the judge of that? Anywhere you are is exactly where I should be. We may not be where I hoped to be, but that doesn't matter as long as I'm with you. It's okay if we don't make it by midnight. I'd rather get there late than get there stressed. I'd like to enjoy all the places along the way that I've never been."

The two of you continued on at a much more leisurely pace, stopping when one or both of you needed to rest. You hit the New York state line right at midnight, marking the end of your birthday - but seeing Niagara Falls at sunrise more than made up for the delay. You stared out over the chasm and took it all in. The oranges and pinks of the skies were like a painting that belonged in a museum. The falls roared, and the mist tickled your face like thousands of tiny carresses.

"It's surreal. So beautiful," you whispered.

"Yes, it is."

You felt him take your left hand, but when you turned to look at his face, it wasn't where you expected.

He was down on one knee.

You gasped and covered your mouth with your free hand. You started nodding fervently.

Lee laughed. "I haven't even asked the question yet, love."

"Well, hurry up!"

"Oh, so *now* you are in a hurry," he teased, then cleared his throat. "I don't have a ring yet, but I can't wait another day to ask if you will be my travel companion for the rest of our lives."

You sniffled, and the tears overflowed from your eyes. You continued to nod. "Yes, Lee. Yes! Wherever you go, I go." He picked you up, spun you around, and planted a yearning kiss on your lips...

...and then started coughing. You laughed and guided him to the nearest bench.

"We got an early start on putting 'in sickness and in health' to the test," you teased.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

@pmak2002

[timchalamet-devoted]

Anxious/overworked Timothee feeling sick and tired needing all the cuddles cuz he’s so miserable from working too much

Nothing, just you.

Hope you like it!! ( imagine living in a world where Timothée begs you for hugs 🤧)

Fluff!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lately Timothée's film schedule required him to work long days, well into the nights. He would stumble through the door at ungodly hours, hair a mess, eyes barely open, threatening to collapse at any given moment.

He was anxious beyond belief and made it a habit to pace up and down the house, without a moments rest.

You truly hated to see him like this. He grew distant, to the point where you would barely see him at home. It was no secret Timothée was passionate for his craft, but he began to neglect himself completely.

One day, he dragged himself in through the door as usual. You were already long in deep slumber, the house house standing quiet and still. He wobbled to your shared bedroom, gently pushing the door open to reveal your outline beneath the covers. Even in his state, he couldn't help but be awestruck by your beauty.

Without much bother to take off his clothes, he flopped onto the bed, curling himself into your body. He clung to you desperately, like some sort of koala, face buried in the space between your neck and shoulder. He called it his "safe place."

His arms squeezed you to him as closely as possible, leaving no space between.

You awoke to the soft shaking of his form, as quiet sobs escaped his mouth. The idea of your poor boy, so overworked and fatigued, broke your heart, but the sounds that reached your ears did it for you.

You twisted in his arms until you were face to face with him, his grasp not loosening for a second.

You carefully took his face in your hands , thumbs ghosting over his tear stained cheeks. Every time his lip quivered, your heart broke a tiny bit more.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up to meet yours. You looked at him gently, but solemnly, "Timothée, I really do think you should take a break, this isn't healthy. In fact, I insist. You're taking tomorrow off and shortening your work days, and that's the last I will hear of this."

He opened his mouth for a second as if to protest but shook his head, seemingly changing his mind, and closed it. Instead, his eyes reagined their glimmer slightly, and he smiled up at you

"Okay, mon ange. Whatever you say."

He leaned into your palm, which had never left his cheek, before resuming his old position snuggled up on the crook of your neck.

"Do you need anything? Water, aspirin, maybe?"

"Nothing, just you." Came his mumbled response.

The next day, the two of you spent the entire day in bed, eating pizza and binge watching his favourite shows. All the while, he never left your side and became the clingiest he's even been.

He trailled behind you around the house, constantly begging for kisses and hugs, to which you happily obliged.