#THEO GERMAINE

[yung-sriracha]

The Politician 1x01 ❝ Pilot ❞

[thehours2002]

Carrie Preston plays a homophobic therapist in They/Them (2022) [Fast forward to 3:13 to hear her say dyke!]

[dare-g]

Holy Trinity (2019)

[spookytuesdaypod]

nbc please contact me urgently i have ideas about a they/them sequel i think you’ll want to hear

[sagindie]

2024 Sundance Film Festival Recap

[loverboyinthekitchen]

i had so many thoughts about they/them (2022) and i really think i on't ever stop talking about this movie – not because it's particularly great, just because it is So Much (when i watched it with a friend we were taking breaks very very frequently) and i decided to write a paper about it!! before you read the paper, read this first:

i wrote this paper because i think people are misunderstanding this movie.

overall i do not think i recommend this movie as a horror movie because i do think you need to be informed that this movie has some pretty grisly elements (animal death, electroshock, some other psychological stuff) that you should definitely approach with caution but if you are looking for a deep emotional reaction this might be the place to find it? of course, its not going to be everyone's thing.

i think there are conversations and critiques that can only take place after you have seen this movie – the actual traditional horror plot is shoddy, and should be talked about as well because it is definitely not without flaw, but it is not the source of the horror in this movie

frankly, the body paragraphs in my paper could easily be expanded into their own papers, and i definitely shoehorned my thoughts about this movie a little – BUT, i strongly stand with everything i said.

please please read and tell me what you think!! i would really really love a larger conversation about this honestly i'm just really excited about my paper heehee

[colferpics]

Chris Colfer via Twitter Dec 2, 2022

[abs0luteb4stard]

W A T C H I N G

Semi-Controversial film. No doubt somewhat triggering for some people. Understandable.

But the underpinning allegory is intolerance and bigotry is the enemy.

Excellent inclusive casting (imo).

THEO GERMAINE is awesome, what a cute human being. Follow them on their socials. I think they have such a great heart. I hope they get many more roles!

AUSTIN CRUTE was already a favorite character actor on DAYBREAK. This is such a different side to his masculine Apocalyptic Samurai. Really - this guy has range!

KEVIN BACON, as always, is excellent. I mean has he ever been anything but? He's like Keanu. A good dude that has a fan favorite status.

[namine-somebodies-nobody]

Together as one epilogue photos

[cow-goes-moozart]

Vlad: If you don't like strawberries, then you don't like me.

Theo: If you don't like Vincent, then you don't like me.

Comte: If you don't like MC, then you don't-

Mozart: IF YOU GUYS DON'T SHUT UP IN THE NEXT 5 SECONDS, THEN YOU'LL BE HIT BY A BASEBALL BAT!

[arthotsglasses]

Can you draw Ikemen vampires in cozy hoodie blankets? It’s like a blanket but you wear it like a hoodie, it’s a top and it can be cozy with the plush.

Thank you for your time.

weeee some of them turned out really cute! maybe future keychain material??

[rhiannapenelope]

Yes, they were the ones who I thought at this song fr.

[spookytuesdaypod]

they/them said yes being unapologetically queer is good for your skin but that doesn’t mean you can forget to moisturize and they’re so right for that

[eventinelysplayground]

Another Talking To

The aftermath of Theo and Mitsukis twins making good on their deal with Comte. Just some fun fluff that comes after A Talking To. Language note I don't speak Italian so my accuracy may not be 100%. WC approx 490.

It was a sunny afternoon and Mitsuki was walking down the hallway humming to herself.

Leonardo: Che Diavolo! Perché tu piccolo..

Mitsuki sighed to herself while she crossed her arms and waited. She didn't need to wait long before she caught sight of her boys scurrying down the hall so fast they were practically tripping over each other. She watched as their eyes widened and they came to a sudden stop. Then they turned to look behind them in unison but it was too late, Leonardo had caught up to them and now they were stuck.

Mitsuki: Vincent, Arthur! Didn't your Opa just give you a talking to about this sort of thing last week?

Mitsuki gave the twins a stern look and they hung their heads.

Leonardo: What do you two piantagrane have to say for yourselves?

Vincent: It was Opas idea.

Arthur: Stop being such a snitch Vincent! You told on Papa last week too.

Vincent: Hey if we're gonna get in trouble..

Mitsuki: Ok that's enough. Just start from the beginning boys.

**Later that same day**

Comte walked into the dining room and sat down in his usual spot letting out a sigh as he did so. Leonardo and Theo were already there eating lunch along with the boys.

Theo: Hehe from the looks of it Hondje gave you quite the talking to. How does it feel to have the tables turned?

Leonardo: Serves him right if you ask me.

Comte: Shall I remind you who pays for your expenses my old friend?

Comte turned his head in Leonardo's direction and smiled deviously.

Theo: From what I heard you brought it on yourself anyway by sleeping in Comtes room again.

Leonardo: Just whose side are you on here?

Theo shrugged and went back to eating his lunch.

Comte: Obviously he's on my side since I'm right. I must say though Vincent I'm quite saddened that you told on me to your Mama.

Vincent: Sorry Opa.

Leonardo: You really that surprised? They told on Theo to you the first time around. How much trouble you get in over that?

Theo: Not much, I know how to get Hondje to forgive me quickly.

Leonardo smirked and took out a cigarillo.

Comte: Well I believe it will take a bit of time before Cherie is no longer upset with me. Apparently I'm supposed to know better and be the responsible one.

Leonardo and Theo both let out a chuckle at the same time.

Vincent: Was she really that mad at you Opa?

Comte: Don't worry about it, as I said it may take a bit of time but…

Arthur: I know! Why don't you just do whatever Papa does to make Mama happy again when he makes her mad?

Theo practically choked on his food and Leonardo's cigarillo almost dropped from his mouth.

Comte: Thank you for the suggestion but I'm afraid that would just lead to a different sort of trouble.

[whatever-fanfics]

I’m most likely going to separate this into 2 parts for the act 2 gang because I can’t add anymore choices

I will also create a tag list so please comment below if you want to be tagged

❤️❤️❤️

[violettduchess]

Could I please request some unrequited love headcanons for Comte, Theo, Arthur, and Leonardo?

A/N: Hello anon! I've left Leonardo out because he just got a very long fic and the others don't have quite as many requests so I wanted to let them have their time to shine. I hope that's ok!

Word Count: 964

Comte de St. Germain

Pushing aside the heavy velvet curtain, Comte has a perfect view down into the sunlit garden and a perfect view of you. Of both of you. Leonardo has set up his easel and is watching you attempt to paint the wooden gazebo with its clinging vines and flowering bushes. He leans over your shoulder, reaching around you and covers your hand with his, guiding your brush strokes. Comte’s sharp golden eyes zero in on the way his long fingers curl around your delicate wrist, the flirtatious, downward cast of your eyelashes, the sensual smile playing over Leonardo’s lips.

You turn to look at Leonardo, your faces so very close, and Comte’s breath is held prisoner in his lungs. Your eyes, even at this distance, are bright as stars, your cheeks rival the pink petals of the roses you’re trying to capture. His chest begins to burn. There is undeniable longing in the tilt of your head, the inviting pout of your lips. What would he give to have that perfect expression of admiration and yearning aimed at him?

Leonardo leans forward, as unable to resist you as the tide could the enthralling pull of the moon. The paintbrush falls from your fingers, abandoned, as you wrap your arms around him, your body melting into his impassioned embrace.

Leo deserves happiness. This is the mantra that gallops through Comte’s mind, over and over, even as he tries to ignore the agonizing ache in his chest. He closes the curtain once more with a trembling hand. Now he stands, slumped in darkness, his heart a flower without sunlight, without water, slowly withering away.

Theodorus van Gogh

One of the best things about walking through Paris on a clear afternoon, just before evening breaks and spills its lavender and orange and pink across the sky, is using the fading light that is left to admire the street artists and their work.

Vincent’s fingers are laced through yours, strong and protective as you move across the Pont des Arts, taking in the different paintings, all sizes and subject matters, that the different street artists are displaying, trying to make a sale. You pause in front of a painting of tiny calico kittens in a basket. “Oh look!” Vincent smiles, soft and affectionate as he nods, immediately engaging the artist in a conversation about brush types and which paint they used. You are content to listen, unable to hide the sunshine of open admiration you have for him. Your smile is radiant with it. Your eyes sparkle with it.

Theo pretends to be deeply interested in a smaller painting of a doomed ship out at sea during a violent storm. Normally he would spend time studying the black, thrashing waves with their white caps, noting the way the artist created movement, how they captured the chaos of nature gone feral with their brushstrokes. But he is distracted. Because rather than stare at the painting and study it, he is staring at something he considers a perfect piece of aesthetics: you. He has long since memorized the line of your cheekbones, the curve of your jaw, the perfect symmetry of your lips. Your eyes are a color that has never existed for him until he saw them. They are the bright window to the part of you he admires most: your kind and gentle heart, that luminous part of you that shines resplendent as a harvest moon.

And now those eyes are fixed on his brother as if he were the one who hung all stars in the sky. Your fingers are locked tight with his, laced together, a perfect pairing. His jaw clenches as he turns back to the painting of the wild, roiling sea. He has that same turbulent ocean inside of him every time he sees you look at Vincent that way. It floods his heart, dragging it down into the black depths of despair, leaving him as windswept and lost as the small, broken ship in the painting.

Arthur Conan Doyle

Of all people, why Newt? Newt with his wide, cherry-blossom eyes and slight frame, his dislike of people and a good time. His mind which so easily winds its way through impossible equations but cannot small-talk its way out of a paper bag. That Newt is who you have chosen to love. The one you have decided is allowed to receive all of your warm smiles, your tender touches, the melody of your laughter.

He caught you one night. Strolling back from a tryst with one of his regulars, the sweet taste of blood stilling lingering on his lips. He entered the mansion through the garden gates at the back. As he made his way quietly as a shadow around towards the front, a certain sound caught his attention.

He stops, ducking behind the gazebo when he spots you and Isaac. Evidently you had come out into the garden at night to do a bit of stargazing. Isaac’s telescope is set up, pointed toward the sky. But it is abandoned, left to gaze on its own. You and Isaac seem to have gotten distracted, laying on an oversized picnic blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms. Gripping the wooden railing of the gazebo, Arthur’s sharp blue eyes note the details: the way your fingers are white, curled so tightly against Isaac’s shoulders; the way his leg is pressed between yours, the tilt of your head, baring your sensitive throat to him. And that sound, the one that caught his attention, the sharp gasping of your breath as his lips feast on the bare skin of your shoulder, the slope of your neck.

Green-eyed jealousy roars inside of Arthur’s heart. His fingers are bloodless as they grip the railing. The lingering taste of another woman’s blood suddenly turns sour, curdling like rancid milk on his tongue. He doesn’t want her, or anyone else. The woman he wants, the one he dreams of, is currently in the arms of another man. And all he sees now is red.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly