a group of genderfluid people. a genderflood.
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the-oxford-english-fangeek said: Newt/Hermann - Space Opera AU
Anonymous said:Newmann Star Trek (or any other sci-fi setting if Trek isn’t your thing) AU
Continuation of this ficlet:
The planet is solid diamond; Hermann had been aware such worlds existed- at least theoretically- but to think he would be here standing on the surface, the gleaming surface reflecting the swirling nebula that streaks the sky above them-
His suit is light and easy to move in, skintight and warm around him, his breath soft, and he can hear the excited gasps and delighted exclamations of the rest of the crew.
It’s like a dream, he wonders through the razor sharp canyons, the facets- cut by star dust and faint solar light more finely than any gemcutter could dream- dazzle red and gold and green and silver and the sky above is a blaze of light so vivid he cannot tell if the colour is reflection, or some impurity in the dazzling, deadly stones- they spiral up in long arching arabesques, as though they too wanted to reach the stars and become one with the blaze of liquid light and spacedust surrounding this - gorgeous, wonderful, impossible planet-
He feels more than hears someone behind him- the planet is too small to have an atmosphere- and Hermann turns to seen Newt behind him- the alien has another name, but for all his attempts, Hermann cannot pronounce it, Newt had laughed and said he liked Newt just fine-
He settles beside Hermann and his eyes crinkle in a smile behind his breathing mask- unlike everyone else, Newt’s species has such touch skin he can wander in near vacumn without a suit. He slips a hand inside Hermann’s glove, and Hermann can feel the pressure of his hand when Newt squeezes his;
Sometimes, Hermann cannot believe it- he feels tears spring to his eyes and his breath catches in his throat; Newt and the others look at him worriedly, and Hermann tries to wave them off, cheeks wet, the ligth in his eyes blurring and doubling and he blinks furiously, trying to clear them because he cannot loose a single moment of this- this wonder- this impossible, gorgeous beauty that he could only have dreamed of only six months ago, glimpsed no more than a fraction through even the most powerful of telescopes-
Newt pulls him close, Hermann leans against his solid body, wishes he could wipe his eyes; “It’s okay,” his voice is thick, “I’m just- it’s a natural reaction to see something so-beautiful-” his voice breaks, he shuts up.
Newt strokes his back, frimly enough that he can feel it through the touch fabric of his suit, “You come from a species of poets,” his face touches the side of Hermann’s mask, “You can bring your artists here one day, we’ll record this planet as a place of beauty, so everyone can come here.”
It startles a laugh out of Hermann, and when he looks up, the lights of the nebula are in Newt’s large, sweet eyes, blaze around the spires of diamond surounding them.
Anonymous said: Imagine the events of Pacific Rim told from hermann's POV with a running internal commentary full of British snark, German swearing, and Newt's voice occasionally cutting in because he is just that distracting to Hermann's thought processes.
I would watch this movie every single day of my life
Also: Hermann mentally introducing Newt like “My lab partner, Newton Geiszler, is surely the most aggravating and offensive little man I have ever had the misfortune to work with in my entire life, I cannot think of a single redeeming feature of that short kaiju grrroupie,” and then Newt actually comes on screen and he’s like glowing and sparkling and got shojo flowers and hearts in the background b/c that’s secretly how Hermann sees him.
Psychotic means “has a mental illness that causes hallucinations” not “evil person.”
*hallucinations and/or delusions
*also other symptoms end up being involved as well including trouble with communication and train of thought
Yeah, this^ psychosis includes several things, including:
- Severe formal thought disorders (like word salad)
- Catatonia & catatonic excitement
You can be 100% psychotic and not have hallucinations. Its also possible to have some level of hallucinations without being considered psychotic (I have hallucinations outside of pychosis). Its actually encompasses a whole lot of different symptoms, evem though people mostly know about the first two.
remember when we decided that newt geiszler helped make new strides in trans medical care before the war? we are amazing.
check it out
He pioneered research in artificial tissue replication.
according to the wiki that’s from the novel, which normally i hate on terms of newt’s characterization but this is absolutely perfect for the headcanon
The hotel room had been arranged for them by Chau, as per the terms of the contract, and it’s certainly a nice place— classic shapes to the furniture, dark wood, but very clean and with modern touches to everything, nicer than Hermann had expected he’d wind up in, when Vanessa told him that this was the plan and that he was going to go through with it.
He still isn’t sure if he should be thanking her profusely or swearing never to listen to her ever again, but Newt leads him to the bed with all the confidence befitting a man of his non-veterinary work, and the kind of smile Hermann thinks he could fall for, just a little bit.
"You okay, dude?" Newt asks, when Hermann freezes in place. "Hey, hey… no rush, okay? You’ve got me all night, if that’s what it takes, and we can talk it out as much as you need. Sex should be fun, right? You should have a good time. And if you’re not really relaxed, then, you know, a little bit of digging through the minibar is covered, or we could buy a movie and make out in front of it until you’re feeling it."
"We could do that?" Hermann relaxes fractionally, and lets Newt guide him the rest of the way, slipping out of his blazer and loafers before joining the other man on the bed. There is a wide variety of pillows piled tall against the headboard, and he can sit very-nearly-comfortably there, with his legs stretched out, and with Newt by his side doing the same.
"I was afraid you wouldn’t… wouldn’t kiss me."
"I like kissing." Newt shrugs. "Most people don’t ask us to, and not everyone does it, but I can tell you for a fact if you told Chau you were looking for a sexual surrogate, he’d have pulled people who would, in case that was part of what you needed. And I do. You’ve got nice lips, I’d throw in some kissing for free."
"You don’t have to flatter me." Hermann says, though a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth, his cheeks pinking. "We… we’re here, aren’t we?"
"No, I mean it. Kissing’s on the house." Newt scoots in closer, resting his chin on Hermann’s shoulder and blowing on his ear. "You’re cute, and I had a lot of fun fighting about who was the best starship captain. Even if you were wrong."
"I believe the customer is always right." Hermann elbows him gently.
"Not about Kirk versus Picard."
"We could… agree on Sisko?" He floats, and Newt’s answering grin is brilliant.
"Well, he’s not a starSHIP captain, but I think we could agree on Sisko. I mean, definitely Deep Space Nine had the most aliens so it’s kind of the best Trek on that front. It’s not Roddenberry’s Trek, but, like… they had non-linear space! A whole race with no sense of linear time? That blew my mind when I was young."
"Can it be like this?" Hermann reaches up, touching Newt’s cheek.
"Talking about Star Trek? Yeah. Wait, do you mean, like role playing? Like, sexy Trek role playing? Who do you like? I can do that."
"No— I mean… Well, yes, talking about Star Trek. Talking, and having dinner, and… pretending."
"Oh." Newt nods slowly. "Like the full boyfriend experience? Oh man, I… I should get my phone, I should record you asking for that so I can rub it in Hannibal Chau’s FACE!"
He crows with laughter, and Hermann feels a little lost, and a little bit put out, the laughter rocking Newt’s face from his cupped hand. He reaches after him, more to grab his attention back than anything else, his hand sliding into Newt’s hair with the very gentlest tug.
"You will do no such thing. It’s embarrassing enough I—"
"Dude, dude, oh, Hermann, sorry." Newt reins himself in, with apparent difficulty, his own hand moving up to rest over Hermann’s chest where his thumb can massage tiny circles. "It’s just, he’s always on my case like I’m the only guy there who can never get a regular, a real regular, and how I’m too loud and I need to just shut up and do my job if I want to spend any time out of the reptile room, you know? And here you are actually wanting me to talk to you."
"Of course I want you to talk to me, it would be bloody weird if you didn’t talk at all. You might as well be a masturbatory aid if you never say anything."
"Hey, being a masturbatory aid is good work, if that’s all I’m doing. Although they don’t usually call it masturbation when you’re tangoing with two. Unless that’s your thing and you just like a little mutual jacking off, which is cool, but… I’m getting away from myself."
"I liked talking over dinner. Even when we disagreed. I… Especially then, because you weren’t just agreeing with me because I’m paying you…" Hermann’s smile fell, his words faltering a little towards the end. "I’m not used to that yet. It feels pathetic."
"Most people who come to Chau’s aren’t pathetic, Hermann. They have reasons for hiring a pro, and not every reason is created equal, but there are still plenty of good reasons."
"I’ve never…" Hermann struggles with himself.
"I’ve never had a satisfactory relationship. I’ve had sex. But… it wasn’t good, and it wasn’t what I wanted, and everything was… and it hurt." He looks up to see the flash of concern across Newt’s face. "My hip went out in the middle of it and we… kept going, because I thought it would be all right„ because… I thought it would be worth it. Everyone always talks about it like it’s worth so much trouble, but then it was over and he wasn’t interested in sticking around, and I couldn’t sleep for the pain, and… What I would have given to have someone argue about Star Trek with me then, that’s all. But I don’t get that. Men don’t date me. I work too much, I can’t go out on a whim and I cancel plans, I can’t go dancing or… I’m not ‘relationship material’. Vanessa thought this would help. I might at least learn how to have sex that doesn’t injure me, and maybe I’d wind up a… a passable lover, at the end of it all, maybe I’d be able to talk to someone attractive and maybe I…"
He falls silent again, and doesn’t look at Newt, every bit of him tense. Newt wraps an arm around him and cuddles down against his shoulder once more.
"Well, you may not be an exotic pet, but I think I can figure out your anatomy just fine." Newt purrs, before laughing at himself. "Wait, that was really bad. Pretend I didn’t compare you to an iguana."
"I’ve never wanted to pretend something harder." Hermann says drily.
"Can you tell me about what the physical issue is? I do have a little experience with human anatomy. Don’t laugh, I’m talking about actual, like, medical knowledge. Well, not medical-medical, I was never gonna be a human doctor, but the basics. Skeletal structure, muscle groups, therapeutic massage."
"And you don’t get regulars?"
"Uh, yeah. Well, apparently therapeutic massage is less soothing coming from a guy who ‘squawks like a parrot’. Although I think parrots are really very cool, so I did not take offense to that. Like, his loss, because these hands are magic." Newt held his hands up, wiggling his fingers.
"I don’t wish to go into all the particulars,"
"I respect that. Totally. Just give me the edited version, let me know what might be a physical problem. I don’t need your medical history for that, I just want you to not hurt."
"The pain is usually right here." Hermann dug a hand behind his lower back. "To start with. Going down into the hips. Sometimes it shoots up the back, and I confess, my posture does not always help… when I have to choose where to be uncomfortable, there is always a sacrifice being made. More often, it works its way down the leg… There’s a lot of stiffness, I tense up and can’t un-tense, can’t straighten out all the kinks…"
"Okay. We can work around all that. We just have to go slow and careful, right?" Newt smiles. "Do you know what you’re into?"
Hermann shakes his head, blushing hotly, and Newt leans in, kissing him softly.
"You wanna start here?" He offers, and Hermann kisses him back. He regrets every moment he spent not kissing Newt, for just a moment, before remembering how delightful the arguing Star Trek had been. He contents himself with regretting only the moments in which they were neither kissing nor engaged in passionate conversation. He regrets all the time he spent not meeting Newt, not knowing how beautiful his arms, how pliant his mouth, how wonderful to be wrapped up in kissing him.
Newt twists around so that Hermann doesn’t have to, for which he is grateful, but he manages to communicate through nothing more than his hands on Newt’s hips that Newt should move to his lap to preserve his own neck.
"This won’t hurt?"
"No, no, this won’t." Hermann promises, running his fingers through Newt’s hair, turning what was once a neatly-gelled side part into wild spikes. "A little weight is fine, is good, just there. Here, where you’re not sitting on any joints, that’s fine."
"Awesome." Newt grins, and then he dives back into the kiss.
Hermann decides quickly that Newt was not exaggerating the magic qualities of his hands. They travel everywhere, light until some wordless permission is granted, through moans and through Hermann’s own hands tightening. Every place they linger feels better for having them there, too, and he has no trouble coordinating the removal of their clothes, Hermann relaxed and aroused enough to allow it without fresh nerves stalling him.
"Blowjob?" Newt offers. His lips are already kiss-swollen, his hair is an absolute mess, and his cheeks are pink. There is no one Hermann thinks he would rather have.
"Do you have a strong color preference, or can I pick?" Newt asks, digging a handful of condoms out of the nightstand, and Hermann remembers with sudden clarity that Newt is a hired stranger, and that Hannibal Chau is his pimp— or, or some more politically correct term, he doesn’t wonder— and that the hotel room was pre-stocked for this eventuality because he had paid for it to be.
"You can pick." He nods, wilting just a little.
"Awesome. I’m a fan of blue raspberry." Newt lets the others scatter across the bed, holding one up. The cartoon fruit stamped across the foil wrapper is one that does not exist in nature.
"Those are flavored?" Hermann snorts,.
"Uh, yeah. We gotta wrap it up, and I’d rather taste blue raspberry than latex. Wait, do you need not-latex?"
"No, no. If I was going to be allergic to latex, I’d have found out about it long before now." He smiles, shaking his head.
"Excellent. I don’t want to kill you with a condom. Allergies can be some serious shit. But I do wanna suck your dick right now, because I think it’s gonna be the easiest thing for you. Get comfortable, you can lie down in any position that’s comfortable and I’ll work with you."
Hermann scoots down carefully, to lie on his back, one knee crooked. He’s still wearing socks, and he feels a little bit ridiculous, but Newt rolls the condom onto him with an enthusiasm that does not seem faked, and Hermann feels a little better remembering that the other man enjoyed this aspect of his job, and if he liked having sex, and he liked having sex with men, then it stood to reason that he actually would enjoy this.
Newt finds a position where he’s not lying on Hermann’s leg. It looks awkward, Hermann thinks, but then he’s never seen a sexual position that didn’t. Newt seems physically comfortable.
Then Newt’s mouth is around him, and Hermann doesn’t worry about a blessed thing until he’s coming hard, with ragged breaths and soft lips brushing his hipbone.
"You good?" Newt asks him, stroking his thigh gently.
"Glad to hear it." He moves to lie on his back by Hermann’s side, grinning, his own erection jutting up.
"May I?" Newmann gestures to it. It’s right there, looks like it would fit into his hand so perfectly, if he would be allowed to try.
"Wow, yeah, please." Newt pulls a few condoms out from under himself. "That would be awesome. Just, take your pick. I’m clean, but it’s company policy."
"Even for a handjob?" Hermann tries to keep the disappointment from his voice. He’d have liked watching Newt come, watching it land across the bright colors inked into his torso. He hadn’t even dreamed of just how much of Newt was tattooed, a menagerie of creatures real and imaginary.
Newt’s face lights up like he can read Hermann’s mind, or perhaps just the way his eyes trace up from cock to belly, following the lines of some kind of stylized monster.
“‘Fraid so, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t work something out… Like, if you want to watch?”
"I want to touch, also." Hermann admitted, blushing and smiling and wondering how it was he could manage to be so relaxed.
"Why don’t I slip into one of these bad boys, and you can start me off, and then if you decide you want to watch me get messy, I’ll take it off and finish while you just look. ‘Kay?"
"Yes." He nods, watching hungrily as Newt rolls a condom onto himself. The color of it is a nice near-match to one of the primary colors in his tattoos, and he wonders if that was accident or art.
Newt feels as perfect in his hand as he’d hoped, curving just right, and hot and hard. Newt makes rewarding noises non-stop, pitched high and needy, so vocal… Newt sweats and flushes and looks at Hermann with blown pupils, half-lidded eyes, that perfect rim of green catching the light just so again.
"Let me, let me…" Newt pushes Hermann’s hand away, stripping off the condom and taking himself in hand, and Hermann feels his spent cock throb at the sight.
He wishes he could touch, he wishes he could taste, but instead he merely watches as Newt’s toes curl, as his lips form a soundless ‘O’ after so many sounds, and as he paints his belly with streaks of come, thick and white and dripping down the brilliant colors of his skin.
WOW WOW WOW WOW
(part 1 is here)
me: sorry I’m late i had to pet some cats on the way here