confusednarcissistwrites

[confusednarcissistwrites]

heyyyy not sure if you are taking requests/asks at the moment but i would love if you could do one where timmy and the reader are best friends and go to an award show. they act a lot like a couple and people are quick to notice that. they both realize they have feelings for each other blah blah blah you can imagine the rest

i had fun writing this x

tags: @if-n0t-l8ter-when @jessespencer @cecilatec @awww-sugar @beige-honey @visionsofsweettea @lucyshea @allskynostars @anais117 @elio-elio-elio123 @staceystoleyourheart @chalametmarvel @misschalamet @ticklishtimothee @apricottimmy @maddyrosew @hexrtbrexk-hotel @myheartdesirepure @toomuchsinning @no1partyanthem505 @madeinthemidnightmemories @weakling-grace @thisandyourshirt @timothee-chalchalchalamet @chalamet-noir @chloefran @newletas @aomi-nabi @okaydraco @myownbravado @biggestmessonhere @osnapitsabbie @emilysprentisss @angxltimmychampagne @angelboyy @stuckysdaughter @thc-chalamet @am4sawa @dreamingformuses @zeffirellio @lmfaosoph

(fluff, YEARNING)

He had recently cut his hair to film something with Luca, the remnants of pink turning to highlights, auburn in the sun, curls that still refused to be tamed. Sunglasses perched upon a slender nose, a defined jawline, he smiled and waved at all of the fans in the stands. Black clothes, a sparkling jewel from head to toe, his face was serious when he posed for photos, eyes darting from camera to camera, the hearts of so many hooked to his every move.

Including yours.

Your dress was red, heels golden, hair wild in the wind as you made your way down the carpet, trying your best to maintain eye contact with everyone you met. Your heart was pounding, he was growing closer.

It wasn’t long ago. A realization, intense and overwhelming one night as he drunkenly collapsed on your couch. He slept with his lips parted, hair in his face, freckles standing out in the light of the lamp.

Fuck.

“Hey, YOU!” Timothée exclaimed, his arms encircling your waist to pull you into a tight hug. He wasn’t one for PDA, it surprised you, but your arms found their way around his neck, tight and secure.

“Hi, Timmy!”

“You look so beautiful, spin for me,” he said, releasing you so you could do as he asked, cameras flashing. You laughed, your head falling back, and he laughed with you. Briefly wondering if he’d already indulged in some champagne, you stood a few feet back to take some more photos, smiling broadly, something you couldn’t seem to wipe away now that he had touched you. Little did you know what they were saying. Flushed cheeks gave you away, sparkling eyes, more laughter as he posed with you, a hand resting respectfully on your hip.

Touch me.

As you made your way down the carpet, you stopped for a few interviews, ignoring him as he made faces and danced in the background. He seemed so free, so himself, like nothing in the world could bring him down. He definitely had had a shot at least.

“Would you like a drink?” One of the tv hosts was handing out glasses of champagne, and you happily helped yourself as you spoke with them, nodding, smiling, wanting so desperately to be enough.

Suddenly he was there, his arm slipping around you again, taking a glass himself and sipping it. “How’s it going over here?”

“You two can’t seem to leave each other alone!” One person exclaimed, sending your heart falling down into your stomach.

“I haven’t seen her in forever.” Tim was glowing, a gentle squeeze before he released you to answer some questions. You poked his arm playfully before moving on, wanting to give him some time to shine like the star he was.

Inside, finally, the cool air of the theatre sending a shudder down your back. You walked slowly up the stairs to the ballroom, holding your dress up, thinking of him when his voice rang out from behind you. Calling your name softly.

Turning, you looked down the stairs to see him standing on the floor below, gazing up at you. People filed in around him, a few noticed, and it hit you like a train. It was different, his eyes were different, and you felt your knees begin to buckle. Maybe it had hit him like a train, too.

Suddenly hurrying up the stairs, two at a time, he held his arm out, his face flushing furiously. “Allow me?”

“Sure,” you breathed, taking it and walking the rest of the way with his assistance. More cameras flashed, they all knew. You could barely breathe, your chest tight with emotion.

Finding your seats, he was in front of you, you settled in and arranged your dress to be comfortable, looking around and greeting some friends. One actor brought over shots, and you took one, downing it with a little difficulty and laughing when Tim barely flinched. You were barely keeping it together, the back of his head frustrating you, a desire to run your hands through his hair leaving your fingers clammy.

Thankfully you were not presenting or nominated, and you sat back and let yourself enjoy as much of the show as possible, clapping, hooting and hollering when appropriate. He got so into everything, often standing to block your view. But you didn’t care.

When it was over you found your way to another room, food and more drinks flowing, a dance floor glittering with moving bodies, colorful dresses and suits creating a rainbow. Another shot, tipsy and ready for a good cocktail, you carried it out to dance, finding some friends and singing loudly along with the music.

Tim appeared eventually, sliding into view and beginning to move his body in a strangely graceful manner, looking at you and you alone as he sang. Sipping your drink, you winked at him. He giggled and spun in a circle, singing to the ceiling, carefree, the person you knew you had fallen for.

Finishing your drink and knowing you had had enough, you found him again, hands free now. He flexed his fingers into fists as he danced, and you wondered wildly if he was longing to touch you as much as you wanted to touch him. One of his favorites began to blast through the speakers, and that’s when he seemed to completely let go.

Surrounded by people he trusted, no paps in sight, he was suddenly dancing with you, singing to you only, taking your hand and twirling you in a circle. More laughter, you had laughed so much that night, your ribs aching so beautifully. Taking advantage of the situation, your arms draped over his shoulders, still singing, and then his hands were on your hips. Someone whistled from across the room, and he smirked, his eyes bouncing around your face, reading you carefully. Fighting every urge to touch him further, to press closer and feel him, you allowed yourself the song, your faces getting closer and closer, drunk on each other, the world disappearing.

The music ended abruptly, another fast melody taking over as you both stumbled aside to catch your breath. His hand found yours, holding it tightly, heat radiating through your skin, tension rising. An image flashed through your mind, what it would be like to kiss him, to feel him want you. Feeling nearly faint, you sat down at a small table, giggling when he fell into the chair next to you. He really was following you around like a puppy, and you loved every second.

“Having fun?” He asked, resting his chin on his hand. There it was again. That look in his eyes, that new sparkle, boy, I’m gonna kiss you before this night is over.

“Yes, are you?”

“Oh, you’ve no idea.”

“I think I might.”

His eyes were on your lips then, it took everything in you not to lean in and plant one on him.

“Yeah?” Now he was just flirting, nudging your arm, a big grin covering his face.

You stuck your tongue out at him, licking your lips and biting the bottom one. His eyes grew dark, oh gosh. Then all at once, everything you had been waiting for.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

He imitated you, licking his lips and then biting his bottom one.

Smiling slowly, you leaned closer. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Tell me.”

He didn’t respond, swallowing hard, his hand finding his chin and throat, fingers moving across his skin with anxiety. You lost your breath, he was so stunning that it was blinding.

“I will. Come with me.” Hopping from the chair, he held his hand out.

You took it without hesitation. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Weaving through the people, he led you to a more private area, a few couples sitting about and talking, legs draped over laps, liquor flowing. A corner spot that was free and off to the side, another small table with tall chairs. You sat down, holding onto him for support. Standing in front of you, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his fingers intertwined with your own.

“Are you alright, Tim?”

“I have never been better.”

“Think so?” Allowing yourself to lean in now, confidence soaring, you gripped his chin suddenly with firm fingers.

His lips parted, a soft groan before he finally did it, kissing you with a slow and intense hunger, one hand finding your cheek. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, shocking your system, everything bright and alive and gorgeous. Kissing him back, your hands found his sides, squeezing the sequined fabric.

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Timothée as Zeffirelli in ‘The French Dispatch’ ||🖊||

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[confusednarcissistwrites]

he is just *chef’s kiss*

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Timothee Chalamet by Saskia Lawaks, Cannes Film Festival 2021

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🥵🥵🥵

Credit by @meetingtimothee via Instagram

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig

[confusednarcissistwrites]

by Hannah can't wait to see DUNE@rachelio5

[confusednarcissistwrites]

hi is there a link to pt.4 of teenage dirtbag bc..... I NEVER KNEW YOU HAD ANYTHING PASSED 3 😭 i can see 5 & 6,,,, i just need 4 😭😭

it’s right here my lovely 🥰

[confusednarcissistwrites]

reblog and put in the tags: your star sign, a song that you’ve been listening to a lot lately, your favourite colour, your thoughts on cows, and your favourite season!

[confusednarcissistwrites]

reblogging in honor of 4/20 😘🪴

Do It For the Gram

immortalizing this since the little shit decided to take it down.

(cannabis, flufffff)

“Baaaabe, I need some snacks,” Timmy whined. He was upside down, his legs hanging over the back of the couch and his head over the seat. It was past 3 AM, but you’d both been far to jet lagged to get any sleep. So, you’d decided to watch movies and smoke instead.

“You da snack, baby,” you teased, pressing an exaggerated kiss to his forehead with a loud “mwah!” You were sitting on the floor in front of him, finishing off the joint you had been passing back and forth. He wrinkled up his nose, smiling at you with those warm, puppy dog eyes. “We could walk down to the corner store,” you suggested, offering him the last hit.

“Fuck yes.” He flipped himself upright, taking the joint from you and finishing it off. You watched with fascination as he held the short stub between his fingers to his lips, inhaling for a long moment before stubbing out the end in the ashtray next to you. He met your gaze, parting his lips as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Your lips made an “o” as you chased after it, inhaling what little you could and making you both laugh. He caught your chin and pulled you into a quick kiss before hopping up to pull on his shoes and jacket. You did the same, snagging one of his hoodies from your bedroom before meeting up with him again at the front door.

His eyes scanned over you, smirking. “Cutie.” He took your hand and lead you down the stairs to the sidewalk. You two often took advantage of late nights like this to go out together since it was much more difficult to do so in the daylight. He reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone and turning on a playlist you’d made for him before returning it. It felt so peaceful there with him, the night sounds of the city accompanying his music playing quietly from your phone. It was cool, but not cold; just enough to make your intertwined hands feel chilled. He sang along quietly, making your heart flutter. You could do everything and nothing with him and it still felt like an adventure.

You pulled your hand from his, pulling his phone from his pocket and opening the camera. He caught on quickly, lipsyncing to the camera as Born Hustler began to play. You bit back giggles as he jumped up on the concrete sill of a storefront window, posing as you circled in front of him. You both burst into laughter once you stopped the video, leaning on each other as you rounded the corner and walked into the mini market to load up on snacks.

[confusednarcissistwrites]

The French Dispatch (2021) dir. Wes Anderson

[confusednarcissistwrites]

whoop whoop

guess what i’m still alive (mostly)

thanks for the tag love 🥰 @thestarsaregivenonceonly

relationship status: sad

favorite color: green

three favorite foods: ngl i don’t really like eating 😬

song stuck in my head: Lets Dance by David Bowie

last song i listen to: Car Crash in G Major by fanclubwallet

last thing i googled: polyphemus

time: 3:57 PM

dream trip: italy ✨

anything i really want: Matthew Gray Gubler

Thank you for the tag @beautifulcinephile 😊

Rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better.

Relationship status: single

Favorite color: purple

Three favorite foods: depends on the day i could never decide

Song stuck in my head: ivy by taylor swift

Last song I listened to: dancing with the devil by demi lovato

Last thing I googled: a local pizza place

Time: 6:49

Dream trip: Italy

Anything I really want: Florence Pugh’s hand in marriage

tagging @waiting-to-be-myself @confusednarcissistwrites @zeffirellio @selenophileangel @if-n0t-l8ter-when​ @timobeechalamet​

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Timothée at the New York Knicks v. the Philadelphia 76ers at Madison Square Garden on March 21, 2021.

[confusednarcissistwrites]

▫️ 💎 Timothée by Carlotta Manaigo (2017) 💎 ▫️

Twitter credit to tchalametupdate

[confusednarcissistwrites]

[confusednarcissistwrites]

you’ve got good intuition. she has both of those traits in spades 😘

i think in person you probably are the kind of person that makes other ppl feel calm when they’re around you if that makes sense? also a good listener 😙

This is so nice to hear, because I want to be a therapist and both of those qualities are 💯