If you love, love wholly

“Timmy is such a professional. He is so patient, and I really admire his work ethic. When it comes to his films, he really knows the character. But also, who he is as a person and how he walks into the room does influence Marty. We had a ton of fittings, and one thing I will say is that he is down. He really is just down to try everything on. We did tons of fittings, and he was completely game to try everything.”

“There's an early scene where Marty is eating a hot dog while wearing red gloves. That was something he just threw on when we were playing around. I honestly don't know where he found them! They might have even been women's gloves that didn't fit him properly, so we ended up making custom red gloves.”

-Miyako Bellizzi (costume designer of Marty Supreme) talking about Timothée Chalamet collaborating with her during fittings

Hopefully it's metaphorical in relation to the box office. And even if it's not, on the day of my death, an image of this will be carved into my gravestone.

source – vogue

Honestly, people are overreacting — Timothée was just saying that bragging about not having kids or acting like you’re somehow better for it is a little weird, and he wasn’t attacking anyone, because having kids is beautiful thing, choosing not to have them is fine too, and neither is negative; he’s just being his calm, open, grounded self, and the fact that people are turning this into drama is honestly kind of ridiculous and also a little funny 😭.

Just love me and eat.

“Timmy was busting at the seams. He was like a racehorse in the gates who’s already run a few races, but he was young and ready to soak up the world. To be honest, I don't see a change in that. Hearing his speech at the SAG Awards this year, I was like, he’s still running on the same full tank. That's the guy I knew. The only difference being that he’s now got a wealth of experience, and has proven himself time and time again to be excellent and intelligent as an actor.”

“I guarantee this note of harmony rang out in the hearts of most actors who were watching [Timothee’s SAG speech], like, ‘I wish I had the guts to say that.’ But to actually call out your own ambition without pride and say, ‘Look, I want to be great.’ It was excellent. The Australian in me could see why people would be reluctant to talk like that-to think some things, but not be allowed to say them out loud culturally. But I love that he said it; it's in line with who he is. And he'll make it come true. I mean, he's already made it come true, but I love that you see the ignition in him.”

-Joel Edgerton talking about working with Timothée Chalamet (THR, October 21, 2025)

I hereby invite you to a *dazzling* soirée, The Official Release Party of a Showgirl: Oct 3 - Oct 5 only in cinemas! You’ll get to see the exclusive world premiere of the music video for my new single “The Fate of Ophelia”, along with never before seen behind-the-scenes footage of how we made it, cut by cut explanations of what inspired this music, and the brand new lyric videos from my new album The Life of a Showgirl ❤️‍🔥

Looks like it’s time to brush off that Eras Tour outfit or orange cardigan… Tickets are on sale now.  Dancing is optional but very much encouraged 💃

Bones and All (2022)

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.