#cmbyn set

[the-invisibility-bloke]

can we talk about this

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

jillian!! a while ago i asked you about CMBYN since i hadn’t quite clicked with the movie and you also recommended the book. i haven’t rewatched the movie yet because the moment has not struck, but i did just read the book yesterday all at once right through the early evening while earning myself a miserable sunburn on the beach in miami while visiting an old friend and i think i get it. it was fabulous. i wish the movie had included more of the strange scenes in the book. maybe eroticising shit and vomit would make for a strange movie. i don’t know. but it’s the gross parts of love that make it feel like something, and thats what sticks with you. like, you’ll have a hundred sweet kisses with a hundred sweet people in your life and none of it will be as human as bodies already are. that’s the part you have to share. ugh! thanks for encouraging me to read this <33

NO EXACTLYYYYYY!!!! i'm so so glad you enjoyed it! i would like to reread the book frankly because this — "you’ll have a hundred sweet kisses with a hundred sweet people in your life and none of it will be as human as bodies already are. that’s the part you have to share." — is i think 100% what stuck with me the first time i read it, i was just too young and repressed to really know it? but it's sooo. god let me get the quote from the shit scene.

like that's awesome. and what's really really interesting about this to me is that i think luca at the heart of him Gets It and did his best to imbue the movie with this sense of understanding — he just shied away from depicting the weird stuff as explicitly as he could have. and what's MORE interesting is the fact that i think he Gets It because he read queer at such a formative age and it invariably affected his views of love and art. i think he's really grown into unabashedly showing the weird (and accepting the fact that people aren't going to Get his movies the way he wants them to, and then further not gaf about it) and even though the call me by your name movie suffers from that previous hesitance i think the trajectory and the undertones of the movie are still very awesome to dig into

i think this is why this connection is so strong to me for some reason — like, that heart imagery is not in call me by your name but it is in queer because he put it there. making up for lost time in getting weird maybe? drawing off of the influences of his past work which inevitably draws on queer? idk i think it's veeerry very cool.

[frame-narrative]

[meliilem]

Having my cmbyn summer in Venice, Italy❤️☀️

[steelycunt]

hiii you lot i have. a forehead kiss and a little biscuit for anyone who can suggest me some summery book recommendations 🧑🏽‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏽 any genre i dont mind i just. can’t decide what 2 read but i am in a spring/summer mood right now so i think something like that would b good…something with sunshine 🧑🏽‍❤️‍💋‍🧑🏽

[vyhalia57]

💙💚💥🎆🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‼️👏💯

Happy Sunday

Last night of shooting, 2016

[slavdollz4mangione]

our eden 🤍 - luigi mangione x reader

a/n: i’ve been working on this one for a few days after getting inspired by a story one of my favorite content creators shared about her aunt and uncle’s way of living. i’ve also been listening to cmbyn’s movie soundtrack on repeat while writing this so it hugely influenced my writing. i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it <3 (and yes i made luigi fluent in italian and a dilf in this just bc)

italian/french: in italic

playing: futile devices - sufjan stevens

the sicilian sun spills honey gold through the slatted shutters of your summer home in palermo, painting stripes of warmth across the linen sheets. you stir before opening your eyes, greeted by the familiar weight of luigi’s arm draped over your waist, his breath slow and even against the nape of your neck. even after all these years, the quiet intimacy of mornings like this makes your chest ache.

you slip from bed with practiced ease, careful not to wake him, and pad barefoot across the cool terracotta tiles. the house is still bathed in the blue-gold hush of dawn, the only sounds the distant cry of gulls and the rustle of olive trees in the garden. in the kitchen, you set the moka pot on the stove, the ritual as ingrained in you as breathing—just the right amount of water, the coffee grounds leveled with a gentle sweep of your finger, the flame low and steady.

a soft shuffling sound makes you turn.

“sei già sveglia?” [are you already awake?] luigi murmurs from the doorway, his voice rough with sleep. his hair is tousled, his white linen shirt half unbuttoned, and the sight of him like this—soft, unguarded—still makes your pulse flutter.

“oui” [yes,] you reply, smiling as you reach for his favorite cup. “je voulais que le café soit prêt quand tu te réveilles.” [i wanted the coffee to be ready when you woke up.]

he steps closer, pressing a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder. “sei troppo buona con me” [you're too good to me,] he sighs, watching as the moka pot begins to gurgle.

“non è difficile,” [it's not difficult,] you murmur. “prendersi cura di te è la cosa più semplice del mondo.” [taking care of you is the simplest thing in the world.]

the rich, earthy scent of coffee fills the air as you pour him a cup, black with just a hint of sugar—the way he’s taken it since he decided coffee wasn’t actually that bad. he wraps his hands around the warm ceramic, inhaling deeply before taking a slow sip.

“perfetto,” [perfect,] he says, eyes closing briefly in pleasure.

you laugh softly. “è solo caffè, amore.” [it's just coffee, love.]

“no,” he corrects, setting the cup down to pull you into his arms. “è il tuo caffè. quello che prepari per me. non è la stessa cosa.” [no, it's your coffee. the one you make for me. it's not the same thing.]

you lean into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin—salt, sun, and something faintly like almonds. outside, the world is waking up, the first golden light spilling over the garden, the cicadas beginning their slow, drowsy song.

---

the boys appear one after the other—first luca, tall and tousle haired, his nose still buried in les misérables.

“bonjour, maman,” [good morning, mom,] he mumbles, kissing your cheek before collapsing into a chair.

“tu as encore lu toute la nuit?” [did you read all night again?] you chide gently, smoothing his curls back.

he shrugs, but there’s a spark in his eyes. “je ne pouvais pas m'arrêter. javert vient de”—[i couldn't stop. javert just—] he cuts himself off, switching to italian for his father’s benefit. “sta per buttarsi nel fiume. non riesco a crederci.” [he's about to throw himself in the river. i can't believe it.]

luigi chuckles, setting a plate of figs and fresh bread in front of him. “allora Hugo ha fatto il suo lavoro. se ti tiene sveglio la notte, vuol dire che è un buon libro.” [then Hugo did his job. if it keeps you awake at night, it means it's a good book.]

giacomo bounds in next, still in his pajamas, his dark eyes bright with energy. “papa! posso aiutare a fare colazione?” [daddy! can i help make breakfast?]

“certo, piccolo” [of course, little one,] luigi says, ruffling his hair. “taglia il pane, ma attento al coltello.” [cut the bread, but be careful with the knife.]

giacomo grins, scrambling onto the counter with the ease of a boy who’s done this a hundred times. you watch as luigi guides his hands, patient, murmuring instructions in that low, steady voice of his. there’s something sacred in the way he teaches—not just engineering, but life. how to hold a knife. how to listen to the sea at night. how to love something enough to take your time with it.

---

breakfast is slow, languid—slices of ripe melon, crusty bread with homemade peach jam, tiny cups of espresso for you and luigi. the boys chatter between bites, switching languages effortlessly—italian for their father, french for you, english when they’re teasing each other.

“maman, tu penses que je pourrais écrire à mon professeur de littérature?” [mom, do you think i could write to my literature teacher?] luca asks suddenly. “il m'a recommandé un livre en grec, et je voulais lui demander des conseils.” [he recommended me a book in greek, and i wanted to ask him for advice.]

“bien sûr,” [of course,] you say, smiling. “tu devrais lui envoyer une lettre. une vraie, pas un email.” [you should send him a letter. a real one, not an email.]

“perché?” [why?] giacomo interjects, mouth full of bread.

“perché le lettere hanno un’anima,” [because letters have a soul,] luigi answers before you can. “le email spariscono. una lettera, invece, la tieni in mano, la rileggi, la conservi. è più... umano.” [emails disappear. a letter, instead, you hold in your hands, you reread it, you keep it. it's more... human.]

luca nods thoughtfully, and you catch the way his fingers tap against the table—a habit he’s had since he was small, always thinking, always turning words over in his mind.

---

the summer heat in palermo clings to the skin like honey, thick and golden. later, you stand at the edge of your veranda, barefoot on sun-warmed tile, watching the boys chase fireflies through the olive grove. their laughter—luca’s deep and thoughtful, giacomo’s bright and uncontained—drifts up through the twilight like music. behind you, the house breathes contentment: shelves bowing under the weight of well loved books, the faint scent of espresso lingering in the air, luigi’s sweater draped over the chair where he’d left it that morning.

it was a life your family had never understood.

“teachers?” your father had scoffed at christmas years ago, swirling his drink with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “with your degrees? you could have done anything.”

across the table, your mother had sighed—the same sigh she’d perfected when you announced you were moving to italy after graduation, the same sigh she’d used when you’d introduced luigi, a soft-spoken engineering professor who cared more about byzantine aqueducts than stock portfolios.

“it’s not ambition,” your uncle had muttered once, drunk on resentment and cheap wine. “it’s laziness.”

you’d learned to let it roll off you like rain. but luca hadn’t.

---

“maman.”

you turn to find your eldest leaning against the doorframe, his dark curls damp from the sea, a well worn copy of the leopard tucked under his arm. at sixteen, he has your sharp, thoughtful mind and luigi’s quiet intensity—a boy who quotes cavafy at breakfast and could argue about renaissance art with the patience of a scholar twice his age.

“oui, chéri?” [yes, darling?]

he hesitates, chewing his lip the way he does when a thought troubles him. “pourquoi est-ce que la famille de grand-père nous déteste?” [why does grandpa's family hate us?]

the question lands like a stone. you set down the peaches you’d been slicing and wipe your hands on your apron. “ils ne nous détestent pas,” [they don't hate us,] you say gently. “ils ne comprennent tout simplement pas.” [they just don't understand.]

luca frowns. “mais on est heureux. qu’est-ce qu’il y a à ne pas comprendre?” [but we're happy. what's there not to understand?]

you reach out, brushing a curl from his forehead. how do you explain to a boy who’d grown up speaking four languages, who’d traced roman ruins with his fingertips before he was ten, who understood wealth as the smell of sicilian lemons at dawn—that to some people, a life without corner offices and fat bank accounts was a life wasted?

“certaines personnes,” [some people,] you say carefully, “croient que le succès doit être gros et bruyant. mais nous...” [believe success has to be big and loud. but we...] you nod toward the garden, where giacomo is now perched on luigi’s shoulders, both of them laughing as they reach for a ripe fig. “nous, on préfère les choses qui durent. les livres. les mots. cette maison. les étoiles que ton père te montre la nuit.” [we prefer things that last. books. words. this house. the stars your father shows you at night.]

luca is quiet for a long moment. then, softly: “c’est mieux, notre façon.” [our way is better.]

your throat tightens. “yes” you whisper. “it is better.”

---

later, when the boys are asleep—giacomo curled around his stuffed rabbit, luca with a book still open on his chest—you find luigi in the garden, his shirt glowing pale in the moonlight. he holds out a hand without turning, as if he’d known you were there.

“pensavo a tuo fratello,” [i was thinking about your brother,] he murmurs as you settle beside him. “a quella volta che ha detto che siamo egoisti.” [that time he said we were selfish.]

you snort. “perché non abbiamo comprato una macchina costosa?” [because we didn't buy an expensive car?]

“yes” his thumb traces circles over your knuckles. “ma guardali.” [but look at them.] he nods toward the house, where the boys’ windows are still faintly lit—luca’s by the dim glow of his reading lamp, giacomo’s by the constellation stickers luigi had stuck to his ceiling years ago. “i nostri figli parlano quattro lingue. hanno visto il partenone e il louvre. sanno che il caffè va preparato lentamente, che i libri vanno sottolineati, che il mare ha un odore diverso in grecia che in francia.” [our children speak four languages. they've seen the parthenon and the louvre. they know coffee should be brewed slowly, that books should be annotated, that the sea smells different in greece than in france.] he pauses. “se questo è egoismo, allora sono felice di essere egoista.” [if this is selfishness, then i'm happy to be selfish.]

you lean into him, breathing in the salt-and-sun scent of his skin. above you, the stars sprawled across the sky like a careless masterpiece.

somewhere in america, your brother is probably in a boardroom, or driving a german car, or bragging about his son’s ivy league applications.

but here—here, you have figs warm from the sun, and giacomo’s laughter ringing through the halls, and luca reciting dante at the breakfast table. here, you have luigi’s hand in yours, his voice soft in the dark:

“siamo ricchi, amore mio.” [we are rich, my love.]

and you are. in every way that matters.

[joonieskinks]

somewhere in italy, 2002

simon 'ghost' riley x reader | fluff, swearing, some small hints of past smut but mostly just a happy reunion inspired by cmbyn lol | 800-ish

You could feel his eyes on you before you set yours on his. 

At first you believed he approached you due to the minimal seating available on the patio, hoping to steal a chair to rejoin his rather loud group of friends. But instead the masked man asked for a seat beside you. That's when you glanced up from your novel, taking the cigarette out of your mouth. 

“This seat taken, love?” He asked, his voice husky but softer than you imagined it would be at first glance of the man. 

“No, you’re welcome to it.” You boldly insist, eyes lingering on him briefly before disappearing back to the pages in front of you. 

He pulled the seat out from the table, angling the chair towards you, and there he sat. Searching for words, perhaps just enjoying your presence. You couldn’t quite decide.

After a few moments, you looked back up at him as you heard the rambunctious murmurs from his little group. “Go on, LT, go!”

You smiled, gesturing a hand over to the boys.

“You with them?” The man nodded, eyes never leaving your face, your figure, you.

“Yeah, but they mean well.” You could see a small smile under the mask form.

“This a dare?” You poke, but his smile dropped an instead sincerity followed.

“No, just haven’t seen you in a few years, thought I’d say hello.” His voice fell quiet at the end of his sentence, his gaze finally leaving you to twiddle with his hands.

Then it hit you-

From all those years ago. Italy.

A simple vacation where you were both young and needed some time to find yourself. Met on a night out, he charmed you within a minute and you were wrapped around his finger, his body. From then on, you two were inseparable, days out in the sun and nights under the sheets. A summer never passed by so fast. 

“Simon?” The name not having left your mouth since he had to depart, head home, pack and begin his life in the military. That was his decision, his calling, to go. Yet, here he is before you once more. 

“Hi, lovie. It’s nice to see you again.” His eyes met yours once more. You quickly close your book and put out your cigarette, pushing up from your chair and into his arms. He’s taken aback, but doesn’t hesitate to hold you tightly. Simon’s face lands in the crook of your neck and you can hear him slowly inhale and exhale in relief.

This is what home feels like, he thinks.

“My God, I didn’t even recognize you with that on! Simon, I’ve missed you!” You pull back, your hands cradling his face and searching his eyes. “How are you? Where have you been? What’re you doing here?” He only chuckled as he could see your mind race. 

“Hoping to run into you, of course.” His hands slide up and down your back, soothingly. It was like no time had passed at all. His first love, his only love, his last love. He decided here and now, he wants this till he dies.

“You never left.” Simon notes.

“And you came back.” You smile, pressing your forehead to his and your eyes fluttered shut. You haven’t felt this comfort in years, oh how you ached for this, for him.

His grip on you loosened and you feel his hand come towards his face. He pushes up the mask, just enough for his mouth to show. You look down at the sight, those lips, the ones you know and love, rightfully yours. Although the years have not been kind to them, not with the visible scars on and surrounding them. Your mind rushes to ask a thousand questions, yet you hold back. Another time.

I wouldn’t have let that happen under my watch, you think.

“Y/N…” He whispers and you feel your knees start to give out. Look how you’re still so needy for him after all this time. 

Your thumbs push the mask up to his nose and he presses his lips to yours. Running your hands down his shoulders, across his jaw, touching him just how you’ve wanted to for years. 

His hands find perch at your waist, pulling you in close to him and deepening the kiss. 

You only break as his boys behind him start whistling, hollering, shouting his name in both astonishment and utter confusion. 

"How the hell did he get her that fast...?"

You look back at them as you laugh, Simon only pulls you in closer. 

“This ones’ mine, lads. Piss off.” Your attention turns back to your lover, eyeing the lipstick that resonates lightly on his lips. 

“All yours.” You whisper into his ear, bringing him close to you once more. Simon holds your face sweetly in his hands, so delicately, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“After all this time?”

“Always."

//

[zuzla33]

I just remembered that not everyone has been here as long as I have and some things may not make sense right away, so ...

Armie's hook up with that mysterious French (according to Tyler's comment) was probably during the filming of J.Edgar and Armie's comment about "@ramseyart knows" makes perfect sense because Tyler was on the set then

In that case, we're talking about 2011, five years before CMBYN … and they're still in touch, which is hilarious considering Armie has changed his phone number at least once since then (2020)

[fractalkiss]

if anyone wants something that fulfills the prophecy of "bro ily no homo ✋🏻" and a threesome, please just watch y tu mamá también (2001)

time to watch queer 2024 to see if I'll have stronger opinions of luca guadagnino as a Director. I get the thread of heated eroticism in his movies I've watched so far but underneath that thread, challengers 2024 felt vapid and it has led me to believe that timothee chalamet and armie hammer's proclaimed chemistry in cmbyn was extremely real and true compared to what was going on in challengers.

[weclassybouquetfun]

The way this would have set the CMBYN fandom aflame in 2017. A guy? French? But he said he had a beard and you can't really call what Timothee Chalamet is growing from his face a beard.

[randomluck-ofthe-universe]

During CMBYN promo Armie was once asked ‘what’s the best advise you’ve ever gotten’… his answer was “never set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm”, Timmy was like wow and 100% agreed. Which in retrospect is kinda ironic bc all I’ve seen since then is two dudes who do nothing else than to set themselves on fire all the fucking time!!!! For narcissistic ex-wives, for trashy beards, for reputation, for ambition, for attention, for protection of the right but also the wrong people, to maybe hide a truth. How tragic and sad. I wish they would remember…

agree 💔

[oldbutchdanielcraig]

do u have any other movies (or other media) you'd recommend to ppl who loved queer?

OH ABSOLUTELY.

as for books:

Dancers from the Dance by Andrew Holleran: set in New York, centers around one character and largely his platonic friendship with an older queen. it's also about queer identity and the seeming near-impossibility of finding love especially while queer. really beautiful character work and really devastating.

I'd also recommend reading Queer if you haven't because it's super short and an easy/engaging read. I personally think the movie enhances the book in a lot of ways but there's really great stuff missing from the final cut of the movie that I adore and it's fun to make those comparisons.

You could also go full-out and read other Burroughs (I haven't yet so take me with a grain of salt) and if you do I'd start with Junky and Naked Lunch which I believe are the most Queer-adjacent works — both tackle similar topics and feature William Lee as the protagonist, though it's not like. a series y'know.

as for movies:

works of David Cronenberg: start with Naked Lunch, obv, because it's a great adaptation and Queer takes direct inspiration from a lot of it! next go for Dead Ringers for identity + codependency and The Fly for more identity exploration. (bonus points if after THAT Dead Ringers you watch the series where Rachel Weisz stars. I love my bi4bi toxic gay media couple)

works of David Lynch: also a direct inspiration for Luca's Queer! he's where a lot of the surrealism comes in which I think is awesome. above anything I'd recommend Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive which are both movies that Also tackle earth-shattering crises of identity and blending into the other etc. both really good.

The Talented Mr. Ripley: not quite the same, but toxic and gay and about how queerness shapes identity. really good. if you haven't seen it you should.

other works of Luca's: I just love this guy. for the most similar vibes I'd go for Bones and All and Suspiria which have elements of codependency and identity and all that good stuff. controversially I would also say to watch Call Me By Your Name if you haven't (and maybe even read the book 😬)? I could say thousands of words about the nuances of choosing to recommend that and it's like. they will tell you that Queer is not CMBYN 2 and they will be right in basically every way. except for the thinking man who knows that Luca read Queer at 18 and it profoundly shaped him and is precisely what makes CMBYN a good movie in the first place. TO ME.

[ssseashell]

2024 WRITING IN REVIEW

thank u for the tags @sadgalwrites and @scorchedmazes !!! <3 thank god i didn’t write as much fics as u two did 😭 alright, let’s go!!

May

Five Days Until Christmas (newtmas, 9k): christmas AU, one shot

June

Just Ashes In Your Tomorrow (newtmas, 1.5k): TDC one shot, movie verse

To Get Lost In The Stars (And Not In Your Eyes) (newtmas, 1.2k): modern AU one shot, bonfires at the beach, stargazing

How To Disappear (newtmas, 3.5k): between TST and TDC one shot, movie verse, bonfire at the Scorch, drunk Newt

July

All I Ever Wanted (Is Here In My Arms) (newtmas, 3.5k): 2000’s AU one shot, clubbing, drunk Newt

Scars, Freckles and Soft Lips (newtmas, 3.5k): TST one shot

August

Warmth (newtmas, 576): road trip AU, drabble i had posted on Tumblr and decided to upload on AO3 as well

Good Luck, Babe! (newtmas, brenderesa, 6/6, 46k): university AU, my first ever newtmas multi-chapter fic, from the Chapell Roan song

September

About Italian Summers and an Italian boy (newtmas, 2.9k): cmbyn AU, one shot

Velvet Mood (newtmas, 2.9k): safe haven AU, one shot, Fix-It, Newt Lives

October

It’s kind of cold, so I want a cup of coffee (and your number) (newtmas, 1.2k): coffee shop AU, one shot

Love is like a star (Isn’t that worth holding on?) (newtmas, 5.9k): halloween, ghost AU

Your voice makes me want to kiss you (newtmas, 5k): modern setting AU, one shot, karaoke nights

i had a small “hiatus” bc i did NOT have the time to write on November/December (thanks to school)

also you’ll notice i have an obsession w one ship and one ship only……….. tagging @victoriandrama, @kobrafangs and whoever else to do this !! <3

[choupistickfaitdesbetises]

No matter what happens... never take your eyes off him.

Too afraid to think that he would just be a dream and that he would disappear in a cloud of smoke...

It was in May 2016, it was yesterday...

💙💚

Armie and Timmy on CMBYN set

[silvyysthings]

I believe that Josh mentioning Armie's name wasn't unintentional, as these questions are asked for the Academy voters in the audience, so I think they were prepared beforehand, along with the answers.

If Tim didn't want Armie's name to be mentioned when asked about CMBYN, he and his team could have easily told Josh, and he would have understood not to do so. All these clues suggest to me that Tim wanted Armie's name to come up in the conversation.

Now, bear with me. What if we looked at Tim's answer from a different perspective, through the lens of the general public? They now believe that filming CMBYN with Armie was an emotionally negative experience for Tim, and that Armie is a horrible person.

Tim said that the movie took an emotional toll on him, but NOT in a negative way, and that he was shell-shocked, but NOT in a negative way.

So, point one: there was no negative experience filming the movie at all (with Armie).

Also Josh first talked about the relationship with Luca as a director and mentor, and then immediately asked about the relationship with Armie (notice not Oliver). The question Josh asked was: "DID YOU GET SUPER CLOSE? And forget about the sexual and intimate aspect of the whole thing, did you get heartfully taken in with each other."

And what was the answer? Tim said the love in that movie was brotherly love, and that's how they approached it, with a little grin from Tim.

So, point two: outside of the sexual and intimate aspect, Tim and Armie bonded as brothers while filming the movie. That's how close their relationship.

The moral of the story, from Tim's side, is that they are getting bolder with linking him to Armie positively. 

We had the GQ question about Armie in late 2023, and also Tim's agent Brian liking Armie's post from his professional account, where he posts about Tim's work to Tim's fans. And now this: Armie's name was mentioned in person to Tim in a professional industry setting for the first time in years.

I respect your pov but not agree on anything you said sorry. I'm glad if you find positive stuff in this anyway.

I'm sorry to be that person.

But honestly I don't see anything positive in this.There was a possibility to express something, even just about friendship, a deep bond without talking about other things and Josh gave him a bait that was not taken. In fact, I didn't see a pre prepared question but only a circling around without any sense

" brotherly" obviously