I Can’t Believe There Was A Time When We Were Privy To Such Cuteness On The Regular :( . I Must’ve

IN LEAVES NO STEP HAD TRODDEN BLACK

There’s an ungodly rendition of Tárrega’s Gran Vals stemming from the bathroom counter; his mobile, he realises, deliberately ignored within the double-breasted confines of his tuxedo jacket. An emerald-green cummerbund dangles accusingly below the overhead light fitting: a fate reminiscent of the silken boxers draped over the dresser mirror. His agent would be appalled at his lack of designer révérence, but Oliver’s pin-striped suit is likewise discarded on the Holiday Inn’s carpet, and Elio…

…well.

Elio couldn’t care less for wrinkled pocket squares when the other man’s clutching his sweat-slick waist like his life depends on it.

When the rhythmic creaks of the querulous mattress are all but smothered by his hiccupped moans.

When the searing heat gathered at the base of his spine is a sure-fire indicator he’s about to come untouched: the relentless drag of Oliver’s cock against his screaming prostate making his balls draw tight in preparation.

And perhaps he says some of that out loud, because Oliver surges upright with a shaky nod, a mottled flush extending from his hairline to his beautifully bare chest as he crushes their mouths together. Tongue delving rough and possessive: claiming him twice over.

It’s been weeks since the West Coast stretch of his album tour began. Since they found themselves in the same city, let alone the same bed. Elio needs him like he needs his next breath - juvenile as the thought may be - and starved of such contact by dint of their heavy schedules, a constant stream of inventive text messages and late night phone calls only served to fan the flames. 

The connection they forged that long-ago summer refuses to fade. Understandably so, when they’d both fallen irrevocably: hard and heedless; regardless of the pain. They were a part of each other, no doubt. Yet strived to be the best part, also. And here and now nothing remains to stand between them. Nothing else beyond magnolia-painted walls and generic prints of the Seattle skyline. 

Elio’s entire world hinges on the salty tang of Oliver’s collarbone - the scratchy stubble tickling his temple - the dizzying gallop of blood hurtling through his racetrack veins, and for all that he finds himself drowning in the full-spectrum intimacy, it in no way prevents him from craving more. 

It never does.

Never will.

That said, a musician’s lot is one of flexibility: adapting to the changing tides. Inspiration strikes on a dime, and flashing a rakish grin Elio reaches behind him, snagging the crisp, cotton Oxford he’d stripped from Oliver’s body not twenty minutes earlier; sighing in bone-deep contentment when the lingering scent of Sandalwood shampoo and Acqua Di Gio envelopes his arms and shoulders in a familiar, homely embrace.

Saccharine, maybe, but when Oliver shook his hand in the villa’s gravel driveway - straw hat, sunglasses, a frayed pair of espadrilles on his size fifteen feet - the quirks and insecurities he’d spent years repressing soon blossomed into being. 

Free. 

Accepted. 

Valued and explored. 

Half the pleasure is knowing what this does to you. Knowing you like seeing what it does to me, Oliver told him once - drunk on the build more so than the wine - so it’s no surprise when his amante simply smirks in return: brows knit in fond amusement as he straightens his star of David amidst the shapeless collar.

“Don’t think I’m complaining,” he murmurs, the raw, post-concert urgency of before notably absent. “But what happened to pants off, mon chéri: no clothes ‘til checkout?” 

He has a point. 

A damned good one, at that. 

Yet -

“I want to feel you surround me, even when you’re inside me,” Elio replies, leaning forward to kiss him for all the times he couldn’t. “I want to smell you on my skin, even when we’re apart...”

“Fuck…”

“You’re mine,” Elio says, wrapping the unbuttoned cuff around his sensitive glans. “And I’m yours,” he declares, turning it translucent with the sticky beads of excitement. 

Oliver’s eyes grow glassy as he clocks his intent, and keeping him pinned by cock and stare alike, Elio proceeds to pick up the pace; the onyx engagement band adorning his ring finger glinting handsomely in the gossamer strokes of moonlight. 

Timothée Chalamet attends the 2025 EE BAFTA Film Awards at The Royal Festival Hall on February 16, 2025 in London, England.

I Never Cried So Much In All My Life

This song eas about a woman going to the cinema and having a good cry.

Well I know a film that has that effect. Apologies for the liberties taken with the plot. Disclaimer. I don't own the or7ginal song. Warnings: Unprotected sex

OH Iwent to see a film last night, it really made me weep.

Oh I never cried so much in all my life.

I blubbered in the ladies room, I bkubbered in my sleep.

Oh I nevrr cried so much on all my life!

I whimpered on the journey home which added to my shame.

And the storyline was all about how love'a hurting game.

Well the title of this masterpiece was Call Me By Your Name.

Oh I never cried so much in all my life!

This lad called Elio fell in love with this big handsome guy,

Oh I never cried so much in all my life.

And he hated this guy's guts at first but loved him by abn by,

Oh he never cried so much in all his life!

They made love in the countryside, they made love on the beach.

And Elio got so upset with Ollie out of reach

That he crept up to his bedroom and did bad things to a peach.

Oh he never tried so much in all his life.

At last the summer ended and the couple had to part,

When Ollie went back on the train he left with Elio's heart.

So he went round writing soppy poems, the tragic little part.

Oh I never cried so much in all my life.

When he got the call from Oliver, he wasn't that amused.

Oh I never cried so much in all my life.

He felt broken and betrayed, he felt his feelings were abused.

Oh I never cried so much in all my life.

He felt Ollie had betrayed him and he felt such grief and doubt

And in a desperate attempt to learn what love's about

He had unprotected sex and got Mafalda up the spout!

Oh she never cheered so much in all her life!

Apologies if this isn't acceptable. Or if there's a breach of copyright.

There are days were the things in my head are shamelessly hopeful and therefore completely illusory.

But “I must dare to dream”, right?

Venice 25

He thought about Armie’s comment when they stood ready to go in front of the mirror.

*

He got out of the car and the crowd screamed.

He was in Venice. Venice Film Festival, September 2025, premiere of Dune 3. The last act.

He loved being in Venice.

Again he wore a handmade outfit by Haider.

A kind of homage to his red sequined outfit from 3 years ago, again a neck-holder, again backless, but this time made of a robust and hard material, fine wire rings interwoven, heavy silver chains in between, a modern chain shirt. Plus some 70s punk rock vibe: leather pants, his boots with the silver heels, silver rings and bracelets on fingers and wrist, a black painted fingernail and a silver choker around his neck.

The outfit felt good, it made him feel strong and forearmed, even if right now he didn't think he needed that. Much more the outfit matched his mood, wanting to kick ass, because that's what he would do now, what they would do now.

He waved briefly to the crowd, the first flash of lightning thundering down on him, and then he held out his hand, just a little, casually, as he always did when he just wanted his partner a little closer, and couldn't help but grin happily as Armie got out of the car.

Armie looked extremely dapper in that deep-dark Tom Ford suit with a fancy little applique on the lapel, and Tim couldn't have been prouder of his partner, of his man, of his husband.

And that was it. Armie was now standing next to him, his warm hand gently running over Tim’s bare back and resting on his hip. They smiled into the cameras. Together, side by side. The way it had been private forever, the way it should be possible in public, too. It felt good and right.

He didn't care if there were hostile comments among the cheers now. The crowd that kept cheering was there and the one that mattered was standing next to him.

Armie.

Armie and him, for all the world to see.

“You look like some kiss ass rock star who has his bodyguard with him just to fuck him.”

It was the right time for them now.

The big blockbusters had been shot, he had a few more awards on his record, he had built a good network, he would be shooting with Scorsese and directors he adored. What more did he want?

He was sure that even if a few offers fell through now, he would still be making films he wanted to make. Maybe he would make less money, but as long as he could keep doing what he loved the most, something that he couldn’t live without, it would be enough now.

Armie smiled at him warmly, towering beside him and he smiled back. What had often taken them so much effort to hide was now there for all the world to see.

There was a rush in his head, his heart was pounding wildly, they had played this day out in his head for too long, too many emotions attached to it, and yet it was pride that trumped everything.

And then a gentle touch of Armie’s hand on his back and Armie was buttoning up his jacket, stepping into the background. Stephane stood on the sidelines and Armie joined him. Tim was alone again, continuing to pose for the photographers, responding to the "Timmy" calls, and although Armie was now no longer next to him, he was still more with him than ever.

When his bodyguard motioned him to go to the fans to sign autographs, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t afraid at that moment.

He tried not to listen, but of course he did hear a few things.

“Are you two really together or is this some kind of PR?”

“Are you gay?”

“How long has it been going on with you guys?”

Later he would say:

I prefer to keep my private life private. I'm with Armie but the rest is non of your business.

Then why this now?

Because I wanted to share this special moment with my partner. And the world can stop worrying about who I'm with. There should be more important things.

So are you gay?

I think we live in a society where we should be long past asking someone about their sexuality because they are with someone of the same sex.

There wouldn't be much more about them from them. Even if the whole world wanted to know everything.

For now he didn't say anything. With trembling hands he wrote autograph after autograph, took selfies, accepted gifts, and when he realized it was no different than usual, he found his voice again, the feeling of happiness increased, as did the selfies with stuck out tongue and middle finger and the joy to kick ass.

"You look amazing!"

"I love you so much!"

The hate would play out anonymously elsewhere, he knew.

Finally, he sprinted back to the red carpet, photos with Zendaya, photos with Dennis, photos with the whole cast. He felt like he was about to burst, brimming with energy, roaring and beaming, his kick-ass energy constantly alternated with pure pure joy. In between, he kept glancing over at Armie, who was smiling happily at him and apparently commenting dryly with Stephane on the whole happening.

Whatever was to come, as it was now, it was the right thing to do. Now had been the right time, and because it was the right time, they had not wanted to wait any longer, he had not wanted to wait any longer.

It was strange to be in that auditorium and watch the movie while outside the news would spread through the world like a forest fire. But he didn't mind.

Armie had been in a play, had taken small roles in television series, and next year Timmy would produce a small indie film starring him. They slowly got things going.

And even if they didn't, he would turn 30 at the end of this year. He had changed. For some time now, they had thought about having a family of their own. They were ready for change, for their new chapter in life, whatever it would look like.

As he walked into the building, and Armie walked beside him, smiling at him, their fingers casually interlocked. And that small, unspectacular touch meant everything to Tim. No boundaries, no hiding, just being themselves.

Dennis had supported him.

"I'm not sure we would have made it to Venice again with the third part without you and your collaboration with Haider. They love you! So take it, it's yours!"

Now they got Amargaddon. They would see how it would affect the box office, but he was grateful to have Dennis' blessing on it.

He loved being in this sheltered place with colleagues, friends and Armie.

Tim had wanted Armie to sit near him, so he heard him cheering in the row behind him when his name appeared on the screen, and turned with a grin when he heard him laughing dirty at a Harkonnen joke. It felt good to have him there. Very good.

When they all hugged during the applause after the movie, he turned around and hugged Armie too, and although they hadn't talked about it before, when Armie slid his hand down Tim's neck and gave him a kiss on the mouth, as other couples would, Tim couldn't stop grinning.

He knew there would be blurry video of that kiss. There wouldn't be much else, but at least they could offer that to their fans.

As they left the movie theater, as they made their way to the hotel, shouting cheerful see-you-later’s to the others, the fog in Tim's head cleared, the buzzing slowly diminished, and when he saw an undisturbed corner, he pulled Armie into it, into his arms and never let go. Armie did the same, squeezing him so tight he almost couldn't breathe.

For quite a while they were just standing there, crying and laughing and hugging and feeling all these feelings they felt. Together.

He felt all the tension inside him release. The tension that he didn't even know was inside him. The prison that they knew how to ignore so much that they had forgotten the freedom they lacked.

"We did it, Armie."

"Yes, we did."

And when he heard Armie's brittle voice, tears came to him, too, and he had to hold Armie even a little tighter.

"It really does feel as good as they say, doesn’t it?"

"It does."

Clap your hands for Tinkerbell them.

Later that evening, they had a carefree premiere party with lots of laughter, dancing and singing. They were happy, they were them. Some more blurry pictures would show that and it was fine.

And even if it was none of the world's business that they were together, it was an incredible feeling that the world knew now.

*

Timothée as Edgar Scissorhands for a Super Bowl commercial

Timothée Hal Chalamet for @694699 💞 (Sorry it took me 3 years to complete this edited photoshoot)

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?