#timothee chalamet 2018

[chalamet-chalamet]

Timothée Chalamet at the Palm Springs Film Festival in 2018, 2019 & 2025 🌴✨🌴✨🌴

[pierppasolini]

Suspiria (2018) // dir. Luca Guadagnino

Bones and All (2022) // dir. Luca Guadagnino

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

i don’t want to mess this up

pair: Nic Sheff x reader

requested by @idkchosseyou

can you make timothee like in beautiful boy role

masterlist | navigation

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The house was quiet, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen the only sound filling the space. You sat on the couch, legs curled beneath you, staring at the worn paperback in your hands. The words blurred together, your mind far from the pages. Nic was supposed to be home by now.

You tried not to worry. He was getting better, you told yourself. He was working on it. But that lingering anxiety never left. Not really.

Just as you were about to reach for your phone, the front door creaked open. You froze for a moment, listening. The familiar sound of Nic’s footsteps on the hardwood floor made your shoulders relax.

He appeared in the doorway, his hair tousled and dark circles under his eyes, but there was a softness to his expression that hadn’t been there before. Nic glanced at you and gave a small smile, the kind that was more for reassurance than anything else.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet as he shuffled over to the couch. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, setting your book down. You watched as he sank onto the couch beside you, close enough that your knees touched. “You alright?”

Nic nodded, though his gaze was focused on the floor. “Yeah. Just… took a walk, cleared my head.”

You didn’t push for more. He’d open up when he was ready. Instead, you gently reached out, placing your hand over his. His fingers twitched beneath yours, and for a second, you worried he’d pull away. But then he turned his hand, lacing his fingers with yours, holding on like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, barely audible, but you heard him.

“You’re not messing anything up,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough.”

He finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “Yes, you do. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The world outside didn’t matter—just the two of you, holding on to each other. Nic’s breathing slowly evened out, and you could feel the tension easing from his body. He wasn’t fixed. He wasn’t healed. But he was here. And that was enough for now.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Always.”

[eyluvu]

Want to introduce him to agere and just hold him and watch mlp episodes to heal him

[new-sandrafilter]

[nirmiti]

timothee chalamet wasn't alone when he said, "this man saved my life multiple times," referring to bukowski.

[heavymetalluvofmine]

they could never make me hate you nic sheff.

[pmak2002]

I watched Beautiful Boy with a Friend of mine who also loves Timothee but hadn’t seen it before.

I thought because I watched it before it wouldn’t hurt as bad

Nope it was almost worse because I knew what was going to happen.

Despite how sad it was my friend liked it and once again we had the conversation about Timmy didn’t win an Oscar for anything of his work yet not even this.

My soul was crushed again by this film.

💔

[dreamwrites]

“𝙈𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙎𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬” — [ 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙩 ]

Word Count: 1083

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, blood, su1c1de

A/N: Sorry if there is more than one mistake, English is not my first language and I am still learning it. However, I hope you enjoy it and have a good time, thanks for reading! (:

"Name?"

His vision had become blurred long before he arrived at that place, he couldn't quite discern the lights and neither could he see the face of the person in front of him or whoever was holding his arm in an effort to keep him on his feet.

"What is your name?"

"Ti... his name is Chalamet. Timothee Chalamet." replied the figure holding him by the arm, their voice sounded broken and their eyes were flushed, as if they hadn't stopped crying all the way. Everything looked weird.

"Timothee Chalamet" repeated the nurse who was trying to fill out the sheet in her notebook. Then she looked at them again and spoke "Is that his own blood?"

The only thing the young man could hear was a muffled sob from his companion, however, the recently named could not ignore that his head hurt and that every time he breathed, a familiar smell flooded his nasal cavities, the smell was the same that the animals of the forest used to give off when his father killed them to hang their heads and turn them into a delicious dinner.

A negative movement came from the companion who still had no name, nor face. Hearing the next question, their body froze.

"Is the blood from a family member or friend?"

Another negative head shake. There was a short silence on the part of the nurse, who glanced at the young man who was staring at the ceiling with a frown on his face. He gave the impression that he was disoriented, detached from the situation.

"Has this event happened before?"

A negative movement.

"It's the first time... it's happened with so many people, so many..."

"Excuse me?"

Suddenly, Timothee started humming a children's song while his eyes were still focused on the worn and ruined roof of the establishment.

"Twenty people... twenty. We've never seen him behave like that, he's a good boy..." whispered his mother, while tears fell uncontrollably, soaking her cheeks. “He's a good boy! He's a good boy!" deep down, she knew she was living a desperate situation, where she was begging for some cure to get her beloved child out of hell.

The nurse watched her with frightened, almost disbelieving eyes and whispered in the same way, thinking she was going to try to calm the trembling woman in front of her. Her tightly clenched fists and her face covered in tears would accomplish nothing.

The boy released himself from her arm and took a few steps in the opposite direction. The humming of that childhood song could still be heard.

"Is he in shock?" asked the nurse, ready to continue her notes.

"It seems...I think...I think so. Yes." she replied, glancing at him constantly as she answered since she wasn't entirely sure either. "Can you get him a room?"

"We're on it, but first you need to answer a couple of questions."

Timothee began spinning in place, arms spread wide, never stopping humming. His mother answered each question as best she could. Timothee kept spinning, spinning, and spinning.

"Mom."

Both women turned in his direction, looking at the boy whose hair was now messy. His mother barely smiled at him and was trying to hold back new tears that had been threatening her from the beginning.

"Twenty-one people. Twenty-one people spun with me today, we spun and spun and spun until our feet were exhausted. We were twenty-one, mama."

"It's okay, honey. It's all right. It's okay."

The mother motioned for him to sit in one of the waiting room chairs, but after a few minutes, Chalamet jumped up from his seat and started spinning again, humming his song again.

"Mom."

"What's wrong, honey?"

Timothee stopped humming her song and twirling around with his arms open.

"Mom."

His mother couldn't help but smile, he almost never called her like that, he had the habit of calling her by her name. He had always liked to call people by their names. His mother smiled, but her smile didn't last long as her son didn't say a word. She could hear his heart beating wildly from the mixed feelings: joy, confusion, loss.

Her child said nothing, for the first time since they had arrived there, he just stared at her and when he deduced that it was enough, he began to spin again. This time, without singing anything.

The boy felt his mother's sigh when she heard the last question, at that moment he started humming something completely new and spinning, he started spinning much faster. Faster, faster. Extremely fascinated by what he was hiding in one of his pockets. Then, as he finished his last turn, it was he who spoke, leaving in evidence a new trail of blood flowing from his t-shirt.

"What a strange thing, isn't it? Death."

His mother ran, his mother screamed, grabbed her son in her arms, looking with horror and repulsion the cut her own son had done to himself: her eyes could see the raw flesh, the blood spurting out, and in between all that, embedded, she saw how a small piece of metal poked gracefully and without guilt out of his neck, proud of what it had done. The mother covered his neck with her hands, pressing down, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. In an attempt to stop a pool of blood that was gushing out, making its way across the cold floor tiles and holding the blood the woman was trying to cling to, as a reminder that they had once been one. She could hear her heart beating wildly at the mixed feelings: confusion, loss, anger.

"It takes away everything you once loved in the blink of an eye. In an instance, in a breath: your experiences, your feelings, your memories... everything, all of it disappears like dust. And just like that, you become part of a huge, miserable nothingness, as if you've never experienced life at all."

The young man stopped humming his childhood song. He stopped spinning and spinning, he stopped calling "mom" mom. It was as simple as closing his eyes and stop breathing; suddenly he stopped hearing his mother's heartbroken cries, stopped hearing his own voices, stopped feeling the hands pressing his chest with strong and continuous movements in an attempt to reanimate him, stopped feeling his cold body being lifted from the ground. It was as simple and easy as stopping breathing. It was as simple and easy as disappearing into eternity.

— 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬.

[clatzstoriesphoto]

Timothee Chalamet for VMan, 2018

[chalamet-chalamet]

“To see the humbleness and rigor with which he [Timothée] made his first steps toward stardom-this bright, feverish young man became this planetary star. [It] made me so proud. There is a very beautiful bond between us.”

-Luca Guadagnino talking about Timothée Chalamet

[estellaestella]

TIMOTHEE CHALAMET , 2018.

[camyfilms]

BEAUTIFUL BOY 2018

He will sometimes send you funny emails. He prefers spaghetti over penne. Have you seen my son? Have you seen my beautiful boy? Tell him I miss him.

[escapismthroughfilm]

#150

[new-sandrafilter]

VMAN / GQ (2018)

[callmebyyournamephoto]

Timothée Chalamet for Time Out London magazine, photos by Austin Hargrave, 2018