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cantsayidont · 5 months

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Recentish movies of note, or not:

BOTTOMS: Ridiculous "teen" comedy about two gay high school losers, PJ (Rachel Sennott, who also co-wrote with director Emma Seligman) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri), who seize on a rumor about their having been in juvenile detention to start an after-school "self-defense club," in the hope that introducing the school's hottest cheerleaders to the cathartic thrill of girls beating the shit out of each other will finally give these hopeless (and ho-less) virgins a chance to score. So silly that complaining about the stupidity of the plot seems a tad churlish, but the story misses some obvious comedic opportunities, and despite the premise, the film eventually becomes far more interested in cartoonish violence than sex. If you dig the overall vibe, you might not care, but as a gay teen sex comedy, it's ultimately less successful (and less outrageous) than BOOKSMART, even though only one of the latter film's teen loser heroines is gay.

DO REVENGE: Black comedy homage to the teen comedies of the '90s and early '00s, inspired in part by the 1951 movie version of STRANGERS ON A TRAIN, about a disgraced prep school popular girl, Drea (Camila Mendes), who joins forces with gay weirdo Eleanor (Maya Hawke) to avenge herself on her former friends and find out who leaked her sex tape — a plan that involves giving Eleanor a makeover so she can infiltrate the popular kids. Hawke is a delight, Mendes is very good, and the homoerotic tension of their odd relationship makes the movie fun for a while, especially if you appreciate the many self-conscious homages to prior teen movies. However, a major reveal late in the second act makes hash of the already sloppy plot, and the finale is both nonsensical and as antisemitic as STRANGERS ON A TRAIN author Patricia Highsmith, which leaves a sour aftertaste.

IT'S A WONDERFUL KNIFE: Bizarre slasher movie pastiche of IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, about a teenage girl named Winnie Carruthers (Jane Widdop of YELLOWJACKETS), who kills the masked serial killer who's been terrorizing the small town of Angel Falls and murdered her best friend (Hana Huggins) at Christmastime. A year later, everyone in town seems to have gotten over it except Winnie, who's miserable. On Christmas Eve, she's magically transported into an alternate timeline where she was never born and the masked slasher has continued murdering people, including Winnie's brother (Aiden Howard). To set things right, Winnie has to stop the villain all over again with the help of Bernie Simon (Jess McLeod), the town outcast and the only one who believes her story. Not scary, gruesome, or suspenseful enough to be much of a horror movie, but there are enough grisly murders to make the comedic holiday fantasy aspects seem a trifle sociopathic, and a late reveal that the killer has supernatural powers beyond just stabbing or slashing people feels like one ingredient too many in an already convoluted plot. The main redeeming feature is that it's ultimately a gay love story, which I wasn't expecting, but appreciated nonetheless.

THE KILL ROOM: Uma Thurman, Samuel L. Jackson, Joe Manganiello, and Maya Hawke go slumming in this dumb black comedy about a handsome hitman named Reggie (Manganiello) who becomes the sensation of the art world after his mob intermediary (Jackson) concocts a scheme to launder Reggie's payments by selling his abstract paintings (under the nom de plume "the Bagman") through a burned-out, Adderall-snorting art dealer (Thurman). Intended satire of the cutthroat vacuity of the art world lacks bite and no part of the plot makes any sense, but sheer star power gets the movie through about half its 80-minute running time before the banality becomes terminal.

POLITE SOCIETY: Silly British action-comedy by Nida Manzoor (creator of WE ARE LADY PARTS) about Ria Khan (Priya Kansara, delightful), a Pakistani teenager who aspires to be a stuntwoman, and her quest to save her flaky art student older sister Lena (Ritu Arya, radiant) from marrying a handsome doctor (Ashay Khanna) who seems a little too good to be true. It looks great, and the characters are very charming, but the story waits much too long to clarify the stakes of the plot: Until the finale, we don't know if Lena is actually in any danger or if Ria is just letting her imagination run away with her, and that uncertainty becomes an unwelcome distraction in the later action sequences. As a result, it feels more like an update of the John Hughes perennial SIXTEEN CANDLES than the over-the-top action movie it obviously aspires to be.

SHIVA BABY: Low-key but vivid comedy of manners, written and directed by Emma Seligman, starring Rachel Sennott as Danielle, a bisexual 20something Jewish girl who secretly pays her bills as a sugar baby. When she goes with her parents (Fred Melamed and Polly Draper) to a shiva, she finds herself trapped with not only her most annoying relatives, but also her disgruntled ex-girlfriend (Molly Gordon), her current sugar daddy (Danny Deferrari), his gorgeous blond wife (Dianna Agron), and their new baby. Seligman milks every awkward nuance of this uncomfortable social situation for maximum dramatic effect, and the tension of the final scene (which is nothing more complicated than the characters trying to squeeze into the back of Danielle's father's minivan) will drive you right up the wall.

VOLEUSES (WINGWOMEN): Is it really possible for a 40-year-old Frenchwoman living in the 21st century to not know that lesbians exist? One wouldn't think so, but watching this jokey buddy-action movie suggests that director/co-writer/star Mélanie Laurent desperately needs some kind of educational intervention in that regard. This is for all intents and purposes a lesbian romance: Master thieves Carole (Laurent) and Alex (Adèle Exarchopoulos) live together, routinely sleep in the same bed, and plan to retire together; they constantly express their love and affection for one another, and when Carole discovers that she's pregnant (the hows of which are never explained), Alex immediately assumes that they'll be moms together. Nonetheless, the story not only attempts to no-homo this cozy domestic scenario, but also presumes that there's no way Carole and Alex's relationship could ever be the de facto marriage it obviously already is — indeed, a crucial story moment involves Carole tearfully wishing she were a man so she could love Alex the way she deserves! If the movie had been made 50+ years ago, this might be poignant, but in 2023, it's just weird, and the resulting cognitive dissonance largely overshadows the thin plot, which concerns Carole and Alex trying to persuade their bitchy, cheerfully murderous employer Marraine (Isabelle Adjani, barely recognizable beneath her big hair and oversized sunglasses) to let them retire, while training a younger woman named Sam (Manon Bresch) to become their driver and the ambiguously defined third in their domestic ménage à trois.

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strathshepard · 1 year

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Ece Bıçak by Charlie Gates

#charlie gates #ece bicak #saint laurent #Samuel McWilliams

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dxppercxdxver · 1 year

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little something i've been tweaking for that collaboration with @chiropteracupola :)

(placed under a cut because it's Long)

when the sun breaks to no more bullets

Sunrise dawned bitter over the horizon of what was to be the final day of this long and gruesome war. Not the war for the colonies, no, that raged on all around them, but the fight for the Pauling Estate, shrouded in ink-black shadows, sharp as knives between the bricks.

Samuel took a deep, steadying breath, letting his exhalation ring his head in a halo of frozen air. Against the winter chill, the sprawling expanse of a harsh pale sky, the faint whisps of fog only reminded him of how small he was, against the enemies they were facing today. They had firepower, but at the end of the day, they were but ten, and Helen Pauling had every advantage: territory, ranks, and skill.

It was hard not to realize how pitiful their efforts truly were. How, despite his gun, despite their knives, depite their conviction, if it all went to shit, belief would not be enough to save them.

Sighing, Samuel slung his rifle over his back, and trudged away from the mansion, unable to bear the sight of it any longer. His footsteps were far from silent, crunching through the thick coat of snow coating the forest floor, but he could not bring himself to care. Helen would know they were coming, of course, he had seen the patrols, the glint of a muzzle through an open second-story window, and so stealth was more or less left by the wayside. There was only so much surprise they could muster.

A short distance away, Samuel knew, was a clearing that overlooked a valley boasting a river glittering with sunrise flowing through the bottom. Soft oranges and pinks bathed the grass in a tranquil haze, and Samuel held his hand up to the sky, watching the play of the rays through his outstretched fingers.

“Going somewhere?”

By now, Samuel had become accustomed to Julien’s tendency to sneak up on him, and was proud of himself for not jumping. Instead, he simply let out a sharp breath, lowering his arm. He shrugged.

In simple response, Julien nodded. “Of course.” Rummaging in his bag, he added, “Could I interest you in a smoke?”

When Samuel neither confirmed nor denied, mind decidedly elsewhere, Julien slipped a pipe into his hand all the same, pressing the spill to the tobacco until it began to smolder. Plumes of smoke coiled and writhed upward, like they were desperate to escape, and Samuel half wanted to go with them.

Beside him, Julien tapped an impatient finger against his upper arm, before he gently grabbed Samuel’s wrist and guided the pipe to his own mouth. Whem Samuel raised an eyebrow, Julien replied, “Were you going to? No? Thought so.”

The heat of the pipe against Samuel’s fingers was a comfort, almost, contrasted with the numbness spreading across the rest of his body. It forced him to be aware, to remember where he was, and what he was doing. And… who stood next to him, patiently taking drags off the pipe he refused to let go of just yet.

In the ephemeral glow of early morning, the angles of Julien’s face seemed simultaneously harsher and more rounded, with deeper shadows, but an inexplicable tenderness too. His eyes had a faraway look about them, fixed on some nebulous point in the distance. Even in the present circumstances, he retained much of the poise he did his best to cultivate. Julien’s jacket was buttoned up high, his cravat neatly tied, and there was nary a hair out of place in his wig. All the same, Samuel could sense the anticipation coiling in his stomach, coming off of him in waves.

“You alright?” Surprising himself, Samuel was first to break the silence, and Julien seemed just as taken aback, nearly choking on the pipe stem. He was quick to regain his composure, as usual, but it still felt strangely comforting to see someone else clearly uncomfortable with themselves and the situation they found themselves in.

“You know,” Julien said vaguely, tapping Samuel’s wrist with a glove-clad finger. “You know, mon fleur.”

Shifting slightly, Samuel idly scratched the back of his neck. Something about Julien’s comment sat oddly with him. He had always been fond of petnames, idle epithets, even before they became something more, so that was unlikely to the be the source of his disquiet, but even so… Perhaps it was the subtle shift in intensity, or the implication that Samuel was privy to the inner workings of a man whose entire livelihood relied on obscuring everything there was to be known about himself, or perhaps the blatant declaration of affection only hours before their imminent annihilation.

Perhaps it was all of those things, or none, or Samuel was getting in his own head again.

A soft squeeze around his forearm coaxed him back to reality, and when Samuel came into his senses again, Julien was looking at him curiously, lips pursed and gaze unreadable.

“Samuel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded painfully weak to his ears.

Julien smiled in that quiet way of his, so faint it could be missed by all but his closest friends, which Samuel thought, with a shock, now included him. “You are lovely in the light.” Leaning in, Julien kissed his cheek, cradling his face with his empty hand.

Breath rattled in Samuel’s throat, fighting an overwhelming sense of sadness creeping into his lungs, and he clasped Julien’s hand with his own, leather against leather. The enormity of his feeling bloomed within his chest, and Samuel cursed his own clumsiness with the spoken language for barring him from taking Julien in his arms and explaining exactly what he meant to him until he was certain he understood. Tears threatened to spill over, but the young Thornton’s rallying cry in the distance saved him from sinking too far down into the amber-gold depths of this moment he wanted to hold as it existed, forever.

“Come,” Julien whispered, fingers trailing down Samuel’s sleeve until their hands interlaced, “we will be needed.”

The walk back to their makeshift camp reminded Samuel far too much of a last march to the gallows. Julien carefully rubbed his thumb over Samuel’s knuckles, but even the solace found in his tender contact barely detracted from the dread clouding his thoughts like cotton. His rifle swung against his leg in time with the beat of his heart.

When they arrived around the campfire, Doe was already several minutes into a rousing speech about strength and honor and Samuel, as hard as he tried, could not force himself to take in his compatriot’s words. His thoughts kept straying to Julien, who had hung back just inside the treeline with him. Notably, he was still holding Samuel’s hand.

“I’m scared, love,” Samuel said, hoarse. “I’m really, really fucking scared.”

“Do you think that I am not?”

Blinking, Samuel rounded on Julien, looking for a trace of his usual insincerity and startling when he found none.

He wanted to protest, because Julien was the most unflappable of them all, but at the same time… “You’re not afraid of anything, spook.”

“Oh, darling,” Julien said, “I am always afraid. That is my secret.” Drawing his knife from his shirtsleeve, Julien considered the blade, tilting it against an errant sunbeam. “A fearless spy is sure to become a dead spy.”

“Then, how…” Samuel replied. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How do you keep going? With the fear?”

Tilting his head, Julien seemed to consider the question. “You keep going simply because you must. In this line of work, there is no other option, no way to back out. No fallback, no…” he gestured upward, “other tree to hide in. Once the job begins, you go until you win, or you die. Be afraid, let it help you, but do not let it claim you.” Julien turned to face Samuel, face set hard against the imminent battle. “My love, you must be afraid, and you must be brilliant all the same.”

In the background, Doe’s speech seemed to be wrapping up, if the raucous applause from the rest of their teammates was any indication, and Samuel rode the enthusiasm as far as it would take him, throwing caution to the wind and gathering Julien into his arms, pulling him in for a kiss. No matter the battle, no matter their friends, Julien was there and Samuel would sooner run himself through with his bayonet than leave him alone on the eve of their destruction.

Julien sighed against his mouth, breath ghosting over his lips, and Samuel let himself slump, their foreheads touching, limbs entwined in a hug.

“Be good out there,” he said, like a command, like a prayer. It was time, and Julien must be good, must be better than good to survive.

Smiling, Julien kissed Samuel’s nose, before drawing his pocket watch from inside his coat. Golden filigree across the back shimmered, elegant, spelling out Dead Ringer with a horrible feeling of irony.

“Mon cher,” Julien murmured, winding the watch and letting Conagher’s technology work its magic until, in a puff of smoke, a picture perfect replica of Samuel stared back at him, “I always am.”

He winked, tipped his hat, and disappeared into the trees, and Samuel could not bring himself to move until the sounds of his boots vanished into thin air.

#i really do have. a lot of feelings about these two #do not even worry about it #vignette title pulled from yankee bayonet by the decemberists also #truly madly deeply Ough Ough #be afraid but be brilliant all the same.....#this is mostly just vibes but i do love it also #flintlock fortress #team fortress 2 #the sniper: samuel mundy #the spy: julien laurent #my writing #radio free junebug

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oldshrewsburyian · 2 years

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I am in book-seeking despair. This may not be your area of expertise, but do you have any recommendations for a historical (or pseudo historical) novel with court intrigue and, possibly, a smidgen of swashbuckling, great escapes, high stakes, etc.? Sort of the three musketeers but if the court intrigue were at the center of the plot rather than the musketeers' (admittedly great) adventures? I need some backstabbing & equivocating courtiers on the page right now. Any recs appreciated!

Oh no, despair! As it happens, I do indeed have recs. And I suppressed the impish impulse to suggest A Game of Kings (friends don't let friends reread Lymond without emotional support.)

Ellen Kushner, Swordspoint, is historically-inspired fantasy which, if I'm remembering correctly, gets very close to what you're looking for. For my own tastes, it had not enough swashbuckling, too much drawing room drama, but the protagonist is great. And there is so much equivocation! Equivocation is, in fact, a survival skill.

Sherwood Smith's Crown Duel is a book with swords and court intrigue that I loved so much when I was 12 that I have not dared to revisit it since. I do remember that it involved both swords and the language of flowers.

Have you read Sabatini's Bellarion the Fortunate? Maybe not quite enough court intrigue for you, but there are a lot of intrigues. It's just that they sometimes happen in back rooms, and over chess games, and in military tents, and in half-painted cupolas, and around long tables with titled noblemen. Also, the romance between a steely, scheming princess and a nameless ex-scholar who decides 5 minutes after meeting her that he's going to save her life or die trying makes me want to scream. It's amazing this book didn't cause a conscious bi awakening when I was 15, but anyway.

I presume that, from my extended flailing over Prince of Foxes, you have a pretty good idea of whether or not that would be enough court intrigue for you or not.

I don't know if you've read Laurent Binet's Civilizations yet but I am about 2/3 of the way through and loving it, and I think it might fit the bill! There is a lot of discussion of 16th-century European politics, and the more you already know about e.g. Erasmus and More, and the dissolution of the monasteries, and the Schmalkaldic League, and the Edict of Nantes, the funnier and more interesting it is.

There's also a historical (fantasy, I think?) epistolary novel set in Napoleonic Europe and co-authored. It might be called something like... Blood and Ink? Steel and Ink? Noun and Noun. If anyone reading this post can remember what this is and why I think this might be a good recommendation for this, please chime in.

#historical fiction #historical fantasy #ellen kushner #laurent binet #rafael sabatini #bellarion the fortunate #civilizations #swordspoint #prince of foxes #samuel shellabarger #sherwood smith #crown duel #book recommendations #asks and answers #booklr

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slytherindisaster · 1 year

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lorelei yaxley: *randomly shows up again with a whole new backstory*

laurent:

#rambles #dw she's not going to be another full-fledged oc #i just need her bc samuel devlin #but i don't want laurent to have a daughter again #hence lorri

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eksperigifs · 1 year

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waiting room content

#nordic combined #team italy #raffaele buzzi #samuel costa #team germany #eric frenzel #team france #antoine gerard #laurent muhlethaler #team austria #franz josef rehrl #oberstdorf 2023 #my gif

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sweet-vanilla-sims · 1 year

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Year 1602 Part 1:

TW/CW: Death, Stillbirth

The year began happily with news that Larissa’s great-grandson Philip had gotten married followed by Ambrose’s granddaughter Janet and Oliver’s youngest Selena all in the April after Artemisia’s first birthday and Corinne Laurent’s thirteenth.

It was the end of April when Clemence went into labor after a complicated pregnancy. Her daughter, Sofia, was born a very healthy little girl on the last day of the month. Unfortunately the toll of pregnancy and strain of labor did not treat Clemence as kindly and she passed away just a few days later in May.

Still in mourning Brooklyn went into labor only to find that their daughter, who they named Agnes, was stillborn.

Samuel and Aniyah were expecting their second child and while the fear of another loss was weighing far more heavily than it was already, they hoped for the best.

#Corinne Laurent #Clemence Laurent #Artemisia Soto #Sofia Laurent #Brooklyn Jaleel #Anthony Akiyama #Samuel Shanks #Aniyah Shanks #The Carlisle Chronicles #Decades Legacy Challenge #tw death #TW stillbirth #cw death #cw stillbirth #1602 #1600s #ts4

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genevieveetguy · 10 months

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Anatomy of a Fall (Anatomie d'une chute), Justine Triet (2023)

#Justine Triet #Arthur Harari #Sandra Hüller #Swann Arlaud #Milo Machado Graner #Antoine Reinartz #Samuel Theis #Jehnny Beth #Saadia Bentaïeb #Camille Rutherford #Anne Rotger #Sophie Fillières #Simon Beaufils #Laurent Sénéchal #2023 #woman director

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reverieact · 1 month

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* MISIÓN #002: could you mess these up more...?

Locación: Berna, Suiza. Fecha: Marzo 15, 2024.

En la serenidad de los terrenos internos de la Academia Reverie, uno de los mentores se erguía ante un grupo masivo de estudiantes con una presencia que eclipsaba la noche misma. Su figura, envuelta en la penumbra del anochecer, parecía irradiar una energía misteriosa y atrayente. Con la sutileza de quien ha surcado sombras en misiones ocultas, Samuel se adelantó, su mirada profunda y centelleante captó la atención de todos los presentes. La voz retumbante, misteriosa y envolvente, opacó cualquier suave murmullo de intriga.

"Futuros detectives de Élite", comenzó Samuel, su tono cargado de una emoción apenas contenida, "habéis demostrado vuestra valía en la primera misión. ¿Cómo se sienten? ¿Habéis prestado atención a cada uno de los detalles de las lecciones de los últimos días? Porque hoy nos adentraremos en un territorio aún más fascinante y enigmático: la práctica."

Un susurro de anticipación se extendió entre los estudiantes mientras Samuel alargaba su mano hacia los majestuosos edificios iluminados en la distancia, como guardianes silenciosos de secretos olvidados. "La tradicional Noche de los Museos se cierne sobre nosotros, una ocasión única en Berna donde las sombras cobran vida y las obras de arte susurran sus misterios". Con gestos recatados, dejó que su voz retratara los enigmas que les esperaban: "Podríais descubrir una antigua reliquia que parece emerger de las profundidades del tiempo, una pintura cuyo lienzo guarda los secretos del universo, o tal vez un manuscrito cuyas páginas susurran historias olvidadas".

"Recordad,", continuó Samuel con voz suave pero firme, "en esta noche de maravillas y misterios, cada sombra esconde un secreto, cada destello de luz revela una pista. Permitid que vuestros sentidos sean vuestros guías". Con una sonrisa más bien recatada, de quien conoce más verdades de las que otorga, añadió: "En unos minutos seréis transportados hasta vuestro primer destino. Una vez allí, debéis mezclaros entre la multitud, como sombras entre la noche…" Con un suspiro cargado de emoción, Samuel añadió con serenidad. "Vuestra tarea será mezclaros entre la multitud para descubrir los secretos que se ocultan en la oscuridad".

Concluyendo su discurso, su mirada penetrante barrió el grupo con una mezcla de expectación y confianza. Las luces de la ciudad parpadeaban en la distancia, mientras la noche envolvía al grupo con su manto de misterio. "La noche de los museos nos aguarda, llena de desafíos y maravillas. Estoy seguro de que enfrentaréis esta tarea con determinación y habilidad. Ahora, es hora de partir y comenzar vuestra búsqueda".

Las sombras del parque los envolvieron mientras se dispersaban, listos para adentrarse en la noche y desentrañar los secretos que aguardaban las historias de aquellos museos.

OOC.

¡Bienvenides a la segunda misión de la Academia Reverie!

Han transcurrido cinco días desde la llegada a Berna. Pero el descanso no ha sido una opción, tras la noche en carpas y sacos de dormir después de haber perdido la primera actividad, todes les estudiantes se encuentran viviendo como equipo en sus hogares asignados.

Dependiendo de la categoría en la que se encuentran, han sufrido un poco más o menos durante sus primeros días de cátedra:

Categoría A: estudiantes han tenido cátedras con Samuel Jeong y Maximilian Steele, han sido especialmente teóricas y de estudios de caso.

Categoría B: ya conocieron a Genevieve Laurent y Seoyeon Nam, personalmente, quienes se encargaron de enseñarles un poco de teoría psicológica. No tuvieron clases muy prácticas.

Categoría C: conocieron al verdugo de la generación, Crystal Somsri, quien se encargó de despertarles cada día a las 4:30 de la mañana para comenzar con calentamiento físico y pensar en su bajo desempeño. Además, tuvieron cátedra Olivier Basset sobre persuasión y vigilancia. ¡Ah! Y perdieron un poco el tiempo con Piers Campbell, quien no acudió a la clase, pero les mandó una selfie en un spa.

Dado que ya se conocieron un poco más, la tarea de esta misión se basará en trabajar como equipo para poder determinar la mayor cantidad de anomalías escondidas en la ciudad de Berna.

Para lograrlo, se apoyarán en todas las habilidades que puedan, especialmente, en la su capacidad de observación, análisis y sigilo. Según avance la actividad, publicaremos un formulario en los próximos días para que puedan responder desde la perspectiva de sus personajes, el equipo que obtenga mayor cantidad de puntos ganará, ¡mucha suerte!

Por esta actividad, SÓLO estará permitido recorrer los espacios que encontrarán aquí, pasen el mouse sobre las imágenes para ver cómo se ilumina la ciudad.

¡Suerte en sus misiones, futuros detectives!

Tipo de starters: Starters de situaciones. Código de vestimenta: Libre, pero deberán vestir una prenda con el color de su equipo. Duración de la actividad: 10 días, finalización 30 de marzo.

¡Les invitamos a compartir las vestimentas de sus personajes y todas las ediciones que deseen! Además, recuerden mantener sus asks con los anónimos desactivados, para evitar situaciones desagradables.

#reverie: actividad.#reverie: misión 002.

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chicinsilk · 2 months

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Ligne "Silhouette de Demain"

Yves Saint Laurent for Christian Dior Haute Couture Spring/Summer 1960 Collection. Christa Vogel in the “Kabylie” dress. Portrait taken in the apartment of Henri Samuel, then hailed as the most important interior designer in Paris and appreciated for his knowledge of the 18th century.

Yves Saint Laurent pour Christian Dior Collection Haute Couture Printemps/Été 1960. Christa Vogel dans la robe "Kabylie". Portrait réalisé dans l’appartement d’Henri Samuel, alors salué comme l’architecte d’intérieur le plus important de Paris et apprécié pour sa connaissance du XVIIIe siècle.

Photo Mark Shaw

#haute couture #yves saint laurent #christian dior #fashion 60s #1960 #ligne silhouette de demain #christa vogel #mark shaw #kabylie #fashion vintage #style60s #printemps/été #spring/summer

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eludin-realm · 6 months

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Character Name Ideas (Male)

So I've been browsing through BehindTheName (great resource!) recently and have compiled several name lists. Here are some names, A-Z, that I like. NOTE: If you want to use any of these please verify sources, meanings etc, I just used BehindTheName to browse and find all of these. Under the cut:

A: Austin, Aiden, Adam, Alex, Angus, Anthony, Archie, Argo, Ari, Aric, Arno, Atlas, August, Aurelius, Alexei, Archer, Angelo, Adric, Acarius, Achilou, Alphard, Amelian, Archander B: Bodhi, Bastian, Baz, Beau, Beck, Buck, Basil, Benny, Bentley, Blake, Bowie, Brad, Brady, Brody, Brennan, Brent, Brett, Brycen C: Cab, Cal, Caden, Cáel, Caelan, Caleb, Cameron, Chase, Carlos, Cooper, Carter, Cas, Cash, Cassian, Castiel, Cedric, Cenric, Chance, Chandler, Chaz, Chad, Chester, Chet, Chip, Christian, Cillian, Claude, Cicero, Clint, Cody, Cory, Coy, Cole, Colt, Colton, Colin, Colorado, Colum, Conan, Conrad, Conway, Connor, Cornelius, Creed, Cyneric, Cynric, Cyrano, Cyril, Cyrus, Crestian, Ceric D: Dallas, Damien, Daniel, Darach, Dash, Dax, Dayton, Denver, Derek, Des, Desmond, Devin, Dewey, Dexter, Dietrich, Dion, Dmitri, Dominic, Dorian, Douglas, Draco, Drake, Drew, Dudley, Dustin, Dusty, Dylan, Danièu E: Eadric, Evan, Ethan, Easton, Eddie, Eddy, Einar, Eli, Eilas, Eiljah, Elliott, Elton, Emanuel, Emile, Emmett, Enzo, Erik, Evander, Everett, Ezio F: Faolán, Faron, Ferlin, Felix, Fenrir, Fergus, Finley, Finlay, Finn, Finnian, Finnegan, Flint, Flip, Flynn, Florian, Forrest, Fritz G: Gage, Gabe, Grady, Grant, Gray, Grayson, Gunnar, Gunther, Galahad H: Hale, Harley, Harper, Harvey, Harry, Huey, Hugh, Hunter, Huxley I: Ian, Ianto, Ike, Inigo, Isaac, Isaias, Ivan, Ísak J: Jack, Jacob, Jake, Jason, Jasper, Jax, Jay, Jensen, Jed, Jeremy, Jeremiah, Jesse, Jett, Jimmie, Jonas, Jonas, Jonathan, Jordan, Josh, Julien, Jovian, Jun, Justin, Joseph, Joni, K: Kaden, Kai, Kale, Kane, Kaz, Keane, Keaton, Keith, Kenji, Kenneth, Kent, Kevin, Kieran, Kip, Knox, Kris, Kristian, Kyle, Kay, Kristján, Kristófer L: Lamont, Lance, Landon, Lane, Lars, László, Laurent, Layton, Leander, Leif, Leo, Leonidas, Leopold, Levi, Lewis, Louie, Liam, Liberty, Lincoln, Linc, Linus, Lionel, Logan, Loki, Lucas, Lucian, Lucio, Lucky, Luke, Luther, Lyall, Lycus, Lykos, Lyle, Lyndon, Llewellyn, Landri, Laurian, Lionç M: Major, Manny, Manuel, Marcus, Mason, Matt, Matthew, Matthias, Maverick, Maxim, Memphis, Midas, Mikko, Miles, Mitch, Mordecai, Mordred, Morgan, Macari, Maïus, Maxenci, Micolau, Miro N: Nate, Nathan, Nathaniel, Niall, Nico, Niels, Nik, Noah, Nolan, Niilo, Nikander, Novak, O: Oakley, Octavian, Odin, Orlando, Orrick, Ǫrvar, Othello, Otis, Otto, Ovid, Owain, Owen, Øyvind, Ozzie, Ollie, Oliver, Onni P: Paisley, Palmer, Percival, Percy, Perry, Peyton, Phelan, Phineas, Phoenix, Piers, Pierce, Porter, Presley, Preston, Pacian Q: Quinn, Quincy, Quintin R: Ragnar, Raiden, Ren, Rain, Rainier, Ramos, Ramsey, Ransom, Raul, Ray, Roy, Reagan, Redd, Reese, Rhys, Rhett, Reginald, Remiel, Remy, Ridge, Ridley, Ripley, Rigby, Riggs, Riley, River, Robert, Rocky, Rokas, Roman, Ronan, Ronin, Romeo, Rory, Ross, Ruairí, Rufus, Rusty, Ryder, Ryker, Rylan, Riku, Roni S: Sammie, Sammy, Samuel, Samson, Sanford, Sawyer, Scout, Seán, Seth, Sebastian, Seymour, Shane, Shaun, Shawn, Sheldon, Shiloh, Shun, Sid, Sidney, Silas, Skip, Skipper, Skyler, Slade, Spencer, Spike, Stan, Stanford, Sterling, Stevie, Stijn, Suni, Sylvan, Sylvester T: Tab, Tad, Tanner, Tate, Tennessee, Tero, Terrance, Tevin, Thatcher, Tierno, Tino, Titus, Tobias, Tony, Torin, Trace, Trent, Trenton, Trev, Trevor, Trey, Troy, Tripp, Tristan, Tucker, Turner, Tyler, Ty, Teemu U: Ulric V: Valerius, Valor, Van, Vernon, Vespasian, Vic, Victor, Vico, Vince, Vinny, Vincent W: Wade, Walker, Wallis, Wally, Walt, Wardell, Warwick, Watson, Waylon, Wayne, Wes, Wesley, Weston, Whitley, Wilder, Wiley, William, Wolfe, Wolfgang, Woody, Wulfric, Wyatt, Wynn X: Xander, Xavier Z: Zachary, Zach, Zane, Zeb, Zebediah, Zed, Zeke, Zeph, Zaccai

#will i use these names for future characters? absolutely yes #okay to reblog this #okay to reblog

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k-dokja · 2 years

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a handful of headcanons for samuel (?)

⁠— Slaps his tits, this bad boy can hold so much trauma. He's not open or affectionate by any means, but having his "trust" is... pretty rewarding if you somehow managed to acquire it. Probably the only way he will entertain any idea of intimacy with you.

&. Contrary to popular belief, he's not much of a physical touch person. His physical touches are pretty meaningless if anything. He leans more towards Quality Time, Gift Giving, and Acts of Service when it comes to expressing any fondness he has for you. The fact he chooses to spend time with you should in fact speak volumes.

&. He spends a lot of hours working. In fact, you'll see him more often at work than at home. Ideally, he'd have your office close to his. However, if that's not possible, then you'll have to deal with less time spent around him.

&. He's pretty fashion-conscious. To him, clothes and accessories are symbols of status. Because of that, you can see him being pretty mindful of his appearance. He does use lotions frequently and takes care of his skin.

However, nothing stands out as much as his closet filled with suits and watches. If the two of you are often out together, he will coordinate your clothes with his. Anything to look suave and professional.

&. In terms of cologne, he uses the Yves Saint Laurent collection. La Nuit de L'homme back when he used to work under Alexander, but after he took over the two affiliates, he changed to Y Le Parfum. He'll probably pick out a complimentary scent for you, too.

Talk about gifts, he actually does that often. Not really in an affectionate way, but in a subtle reminder that you should use this or that. He doesn't mind you using his money to adorn your appearance, either. However, if you go for something tacky and unfitting, then he will have a few choice words.

&. He really likes quiet times with you. Having meals together, watching movies, reading books, him reading a book while you playing that strange defence attorney game, going on rides together. He's also a bit of a tea drinker. If it is possible, he will spend that time with you. Arguably, you might feel a bit antsy if you're much of a talker during these times because he doesn't talk at all.

&. It is... acknowledged that he's not the most stable guy when it comes to well, everything. Most people don't even know what he has ongoing in his mind either. You, however, always strangely know what he's thinking, sometimes. It terrifies him a little but also comforts him in another way. At least, he's not alone in this.

&. Okay, I'll confess: I made this post because I want to write headcanons of movie night with Samuel. You are the one who makes it something of a weekly routine but Samuel begins to have his own input on the third week. After enduring what he called your "mediocre and underwhelming" taste in movies, he has decided he will make the choice for the movie that week.

However, after arguing back and forth, the two of you decided to take turns in picking the movie. All is well and good.

&. It's always a production with movie night, too. Snacks, blanket, unnecessary quip about the other person't taste that's just a bit too personal. The two of you almost never missed it, even if you're on a business trip. Something about going to the cinema doesn't hit like cuddling up under blankets on the living room couch.

Once, the two of you were even watching the movie while in his car because you weren't able to go home that weekend. Things aren't always ideal but... you both make it work.

&. He has pretty specific tastes in books, but if you have any recommendations you think he'd like, he doesn't mind accepting them. However, be aware that he will give you feedback on the book you gave him. He prefers self-help books or autobiographies.

Not much of a reader of fiction, although he can be persuaded. This is also reflected in his movie tastes, by the way.

&. Aside from that, he also has a cabinet filled up to the brim with liquor within his own apartment. He has a pretty "refined" taste when it comes to alcohol in general. However, he doesn't drink that often. Mostly when he's stressed, if anything.

He smokes more than drinks and knows that he's digging his early grave, but hey, it's not like there's more joy to life for him.

#samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #headcanons

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dxppercxdxver · 1 year

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more of that collaboration with @chiropteracupola!!

all the days of our delights

Julien woke with the sun to the first warm spring day since the war ended.

Golden light spilled across the fine sheets of his bed, tucked deep in the heart of Teufort Manor, just now beginning to properly feel like home, and he rolled to his side to look out the window at the greening forest. Turning over revealed the empty space beside him, blankets creased with a recently departed presence, and the faint, comforting scent of pine sap lingering in the air and in the weave of the satin. Outside, the birds were just beginning to rouse themselves, gentle chirping drifting on the breeze.

For once, Julien felt no need to hurry, no urgency to his actions. Instead, he simply stretched his arms above his head, listening to the dull popping in his neck, and reached for his partner’s pillow, pressing it to his face. Duties would soon call his name, of course, but he decided morning could wait. Julien was owed this moment of quiet.

Unfortunately, before he could sink back into the bedding and let the drowsiness claim him once more, there came a knock at the door.

“Go away,” he murmured, although his words were muffled by the fabric enshrouding his face. To his surprise, a low laugh issued forth, and then the door creaked open.

“Good morning to you, too,” Samuel Mundy chuckled, voice roughened with the early hour, before padding over to the bed and sitting on the side, back to Julien’s, reaching for his hand. Twining their fingers together, Julien dragged Samuel’s knuckles to his lips while Samuel continued, “Sorry about your beauty sleep.”

“Mmm you know I do not need beauty sleep.” Julien smiled, looking up to meet Samuel’s serene gaze. In the dawn’s glow, the crags of his weathered face were softened, pleasant and tranquil.

He chuckled. “Right, because you’re always so handsome.”

“Of course I am.” With a grin, Julien reached up with his free hand, running his fingers through Samuel’s hair, blessedly free of snarls and mats, before lifting himself up for a kiss. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Pulling away slightly, Samuel raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t want this ugly mug starin’ down at ya?”

“Mind your tongue, cher,” Julien said, bumping his forehead against Samuel’s. “You know how I feel about your ugly mug.”

“I knew it.”

“Knew I love it? I should hope so.” In spite of Samuel’s scoff, Julien really did adore the way he looked, and kissed him again to prove it. “Now, what brings you here before sun-up?”

If Julien was not mistaken, it appeared that Samuel was blushing, and but a moment later, he idly pushed his hair out of his face, confirming Julien’s suspicions.

“Well,” Samuel said, rocking slightly in place, “I made you coffee, if you want it. It’s downstairs.”

“Oh…” It was such a simple thing, to be made coffee in the morning, but the fact that it was Samuel doing it—Samuel, who rarely stayed in bed past the first light, Samuel, whose every move was deliberate—and he was doing for him made Julien’s breath catch in his throat. He buried his head in the crook of Samuel’s neck, letting his stubble scratch at his forehead.

“I would like that,” Julien said, drawing Samuel into a hug. “Shall I get dressed?”

“Nah, no one else is up yet.” He held Julien close, words ghosting over Julien’s skin, before leaning back to take him all in. “‘Sides… I like you. Like this.”

“Well, I suppose I cannot argue with that,” Julien replied, but he felt heat rising to his cheeks all the same. “I will see you downstairs?”

“Yeah,” Samuel beamed. “Kitchen.” With that, he stood, pausing by the door. It was only then that Julien properly registered that he was wearing only his nightshirt, hair falling loose around his shoulders. He looked so at ease, so vulnerable, Julien almost wanted to avert his eyes, as if observing him so exposed was a violation of whatever privacy was still hovering between them. But then Samuel glanced over his shoulder, unmistakably smug, and said, “Don’t be late, love.”

As Samuel disappeared into the hallway, Julien could only stare, agape, before recalling where he was expected well enough to will himself out of the bed. Tossing on his own nightshirt was almost an afterthought in his haste to meet Samuel in the manor’s kitchen, and he even left his wig behind, fluffing his hair up in its place. The wood was cool on his feet as he wandered the halls, listening to the snoring that emanated from his friends’ bunks. Spring was coming, and they were alive, and what a wonder it was, to be laughing and living among such company.

Upon his arrival to the dining area, Julien caught a glimpse of Samuel bustling about the kitchen, and the distinct aroma of roasting coffee greeted him shortly afterward. A small table was set up in a nook by an eastern window, place settings haloed in gold.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Samuel called, holding up two china teacups. “Be out in a second, alright?”

“Oui,” Julien replied, trailing off upon examining the table more closely. Two plates were set out, heaped with strips of bacon and warm bread, slathered with butter. It was far from an elegant meal, but it was lovely all the same. Glasses of milk were placed in the center, with a tidy bouquet of flowers filling up a delicate-looking vase that served as the centerpiece. “Samuel,” he said, “is this for me?”

Apparently, Samuel had snuck up behind him, because it took but a breath for him to press a kiss to Julien’s cheek, setting the teacups on the table.

“‘Course,” he said, a subtle pride radiating off of him. “Is that… okay?”

Julien took his hand without a second thought. “It’s perfect.”

Enveloped in the near-idyllic springtime atmosphere, Samuel slowly guided Julien to his seat, pushing the chair in for him, before settling in across the way. For awhile, Julien could only watch as he tore off pieces of bread and sipped at his coffee. He knew the food was for him, too, but eating meant taking his eyes off of Samuel, and he wanted to commit this to his memory forever: the way the dappled sunlight gleamed in his hair, the nimble movements of his hands, the loose laces of his nightshirt that allowed him brief flashes of the ropy scars that crisscrossed his chest.

Samuel was, in no uncertain terms, beautiful and lovely.

When he caught sight of Julien staring, Samuel snorted, resting his palm against Julien’s neck. “You’re allowed to eat, love. I didn’t make you breakfast just for show.”

“I know,” Julien said, tapping Samuel’s wrist. “I will.”

“You better.”

Unfortunately for Julien’s constitution, Samuel was a talented cook, even if the food itself seemed unassuming. It had been so long since he had eaten fresh bread, even longer since their travels had afforded them time enough to cure and cook meat. Everything about the dishes spoke of a simple and honest devotion, an affection Julien felt wildly unprepared to process in its entirety. So, he ate, and he enjoyed it, and he was filled with the desire to supply Samuel with only the finest ingredients in the world so that he might continue to cook as he loved, for the people he loved.

“You should come to the market with me.” The words were out of his mouth before Julien had even had the chance to think about them, but upon recollection, he found he did not regret them. Samuel just blinked, swallowing the bite of his food.

“Are you sure?”

“Why would I not be?” All Julien wished was for Samuel to see just how much he meant, how much he was cherished, how Julien yearned to care for him in every way he could manage. He could not fathom why Samuel would hesitate now, when it was so clear Julien wanted to spend his time with his love in a way that would matter to both of them.

“Well…” Samuel said, ducking his head and picking at the hem of his nightshirt. “I mean, you’re you, and I’m…”

“Charming? Honorable? One of the better men I have had the pleasure of knowing?”

“Ugh, no.” Groaning, Samuel crossed his arms over his face. “You’re just… Put together, and you know how to talk to people, and your reputation means something to you, and I’m… me.”

“You…” Julien could only watch, baffled, as Samuel refused to look at him. “Do you really think that poorly of yourself? That you assume I would rather not be seen with you?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Samuel shrugged loosely, gesturing at nothing. “I’m just a random bloke who’d rather spend his days in a tree, and I don’t know how to dress, and we’ve both got bands but no wives to show for it. And you…”

“Have a great want of your company at the market today,” Julien finished, clutching at Samuel’s fingers. “My dear bushman, I am telling you I want you to come with me. I stopped caring about how I looked to the rest of the world a long time ago, and now I simply want to spend time with the man I love. Can you accept that?”

“But… the townsfolk—”

“Oh, let them gossip,” Julien said with a wave of his hand. “I highly doubt anyone will be giving us trouble, anyway. Not after Lady Helen’s death.”

With a reluctant snort, Samuel muttered, “Serves ‘em right.”

“Now you see.” Patting Samuel on the cheek, Julien stood, pulling Samuel to his feet. “If you truly wish to leave, we will go, no questions asked. I only ask that you come at all.”

Samuel seemed to turn this over in his mind, squeezing at Julien’s hand, before saying, “Okay.”

“Merci, my dear.” Kissing Samuel’s forehead, Julien began heading for the stairs to their room. “I suggest you get dressed, then, for as lovely as you look now, I doubt the people of Teufort would much appreciate it.”

“Y—Yeah. Sure.”

“I will meet you under the trellis in the garden, then,” Julien said with a wink. “Je t’aime, sweet.”

And with that, he left Samuel with the scraps of his breakfast, disappearing up the stairs.

It was true, that Julien took great pride in his appearance, and a day out in a sleepy little town in Pennsylvania was no exception, least of all considering that Samuel would be joining him. So, he chose his clothing with a critical eye: nothing too extravagent, of course, but something befitting the company he would be keeping. He settled on was a deep red coat and matching waistcoat, and tied his cravat in a neat knot, before adjusting the wig on his head. Grabbing his cane, Julien made his way down to the front of the manner.

“Mornin’, Jules,” Jeremiah yelled from his bedroom, followed by a cheerier, “Good morning, Mr. Laurent!” from Filomena.

“Bonjour to you both,” Julien fired back, deliberately not looking through the crack in the door, “and pass my regards on to the good doctor.”

“Can do!”

The rest of his trip being unimpeded, Julien found himself leaning against the trellis in very little time, studying the ivy that wound its way up the wood. He took a leaf between his gloved fingers; it surely would not be long until it began to bloom.

“Oi. Spook.”

When Julien looked up, Samuel was standing on the front porch, shifting his weight on his feet. While he must have been profoundly uncomfortable, Julien could not help but think he looked stunning, even though his clothing was relatively plain. Samuel only boasted a heavy brown coat over top of his usual garb, but his hair was neatly braided and his shoes had been polished to a slick gloss.

“Hello, cher,” Julien smiled, holding out a hand. “Shall we?”

“Eh.” Marching down the stairs with heavy footfalls, Samuel threaded his arm through the crook Julien’s elbow. “Might as well.”

The walk into town was spent in relative silence, save for the thud of Julien’s cane on the hardpacked dirt. However, it was far from unpleasant. Julien frankly adored watching Samuel study the terrain around them, unconsciously whistling back the birdcalls that reached them, and did not mind the lack of conversation. After all, it was important that Samuel start the day on a footing comfortable to him, and if he liked the quiet, Julien would happily oblige.

It was only when the far off clamor of voices began to filter through the trees that Samuel began to tense. He carefully slipped his arm from Julien’s grip, holding it behind his back.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Nervous.”

“It is alright, my dear,” Julien replied, nudging him slightly. “I will follow your lead. Whatever you want, it is yours.”

“No, I can’t ask you to—”

“It is only fair!” Julien said, patting the bag sitting on his hip. “You treat me so wonderfully, so I would like to return the favor.”

Frowning, Samuel eyed the purse with suspicion. “Yeah?”

“Anything you desire.”

And, at last, Samuel returned his smile, slipping his hand back into Julien’s. “Thanks.”

The pleasant hubbub of the market soon surrounded them both, and Samuel quickly brightened upon viewing the goods for sale. True to his word, Julien paid for every single thing, and they soon found themselves with a bag full of fresh cuts of meat, fine goat butter, colorful bunches of flowers, plenty of bulbs to start a proper garden, and a number of little trinkets Julien personally saw no value in but Samuel seemed to love. People smiled at them, waving and greeting them with as much politeness as was warranted for men they most definitely were not, but Julien certainly was not going to complain. The longer they walked, the closer Samuel drifted to him, until they were traversing the market shoulder to shoulder, Julien’s wig brushing Samuel’s cheek.

“Oh, would ya look at that…” Samuel pointed at a woman selling woven clothing. Her stall was filled to the brim with colorful fabrics stitched together in intricate patterns, and embroidery shimmered in the noonday sun.

Julien nodded approvingly. “You have good taste. Would you like something?”

“No, I— I couldn’t, spook, but thank you.”

“Nonsense.” Striding toward the stall, Julien said, “Anything you want, love.”

Hesitantly, Samuel came to join Julien, and while he struck up a conversation with the owner, Samuel ran his fingers over the sleeve of a woolen coat, lingering beside it no matter how many times he left and returned. It was clear he adored it, and for good reason—it suited him and his work, after all—but could not bring himself to commit to it. Eventually, Samuel drifted away, but Julien remained, pulling out his purse.

Coat secured few moments and many coins later, Julien slung it over his forearm and tracked Samuel down at the edge of the crowd.

“Oh, you bastard,” Samuel said upon eyeing the coat. “How much did that cost you?”

“It was nothing, cher.” Unfolding the coat, Julien draped it over Samuel’s shoulders. “Besides, it looks wonderful on you.”

For a few horrible moments, Samuel remained stock still, hand lingering over the collar, before he stepped forward and switftly yanked Julien into a hug, kissing his neck.

“You’re a fucking menace,” he said softly.

“And this is why you love me,” Julien whispered, paying no mind to the throngs of people that could undoubtedly see them.

“Yeah.” Samuel’s voice was hoarse, and Julien suspected he may have been fighting off tears. “I really do.”

And that was it, really. Samuel loved him, and he was holding him close in the town square of Teufort, thousands of miles from either of their homes that could not really be called homes anymore, and he did not care who saw. Now choking back tears of his own, Julien gripped Samuel tight, almost like a dare, a challenge for anyone to try to take him away. The chatter of the crowds faded to a dull buzz, and Julien could only smell conifers and gunsmoke.

“Come now, bushman,” he murmured, kissing Samuel’s cheek. “Let us return.”

With the scent of springtime in the air and Samuel’s skin on his as they returned to the manor, Julien could finally say to himself that maybe, just maybe, they were going to be okay.

#ngl this one gets clumsier as it goes but i cannot be bothered to edit rn so <3 #also i am still figuring out how to write just. straight up romance #anyway #look at them goooo #OH and title is from bitter water by the oh hellos :)#flintlock fortress #team fortress 2 #the spy: julien laurent #the sniper: samuel mundy #my writing #radio free junebug

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