Miss Anthropic Principle
Riff-raff, street rat, I don’t buy that
If only they’d look closer,
Would they see a poor boy?
No siree, they’d find out there’s so much more to me
Aladdin (sung by Brad Cane), One Jump Ahead (Reprise), written by Alan Menken, Tim Rice
eurydce:

notordinaryfashion:


Carolina Herrera

eurydce:

notordinaryfashion:

Carolina Herrera

trojanwarfare:

history meme [1/1 wars] 

World War One. The war to end all wars. World War One was a war without parallel - all previous wars were eclipsed by its scale of destruction.

trojanwarfare:

history meme [1/1 wars]

World War One. The war to end all wars. World War One was a war without parallel - all previous wars were eclipsed by its scale of destruction.

Au of the day : they (maybe as strangers) get seats next to each other on the plane, but newt gets horribly airsick. Hermann is worried for him but also confused because he can't figure out why he's finding this pale, sick guy next to him attractive

Hermann sat in his window seat when another man plopped down next to him. He hated sitting next to strangers, but he changed his mind at the sight of his fellow passenger. He was disheveled, not particularly tall, but energetic and…charming. Hermann was staring, almost smiling and the man saw. 

“Hi,” the man said, extending a hand, “Newt Geiszler.” Hermann took his warm hand in his cold one, gripping tightly. 

“Dr. Hermann Gottlieb.”

“I’m Dr. too, I just don’t mention it.” Hermann suddenly felt like a fool for putting an emphasis on his title. They chatted for at least a half hour about their respective careers in mathematics and biology when Newt started to go a little pale. Hermann asked if he was alright.

“I’m not feeling very well. I think this turbulence is getting to me.”

“You’ve gone white as a sheet,” Hermann said, swallowing, his brow crinkled. 

“I haven’t been like this in years. But I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t gotten much sleep in the last couple weeks. Drinking last night didn’t help either….oh God.”

Newton reached for an airsick bag that was in the pocket in front of him and vomited into it. Hermann felt ill for him. Newton started to sweat and then to shiver. Hermann didn’t know what to say but handed him his handkerchief and tried to sooth him between each purge. He even put a hand on his upper back. Was that the right thing to do? He wasn’t sure but he massaged between his shoulder blades with his palm, almost indulging in feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. That was definitely inappropriate. After being sick several more times, Newton took off his seatbelt and made for the toilet stall. Hermann got up immediately, trying to help. Newton was lightheaded and slumped a little. Hermann caught him and supported him as he stumbled down the thin walkway. The stewardess came after them.

“You must get back in your seats. The seatbelt sign is on. We’re in the middle of severe turbulence.”

“Can’t you see this man is suffering?” Hermann snapped, “I understand there’s turbulence, that is what’s making him so ill, but he must use the toilet. I’m taking him there immediately. And you can’t kick me off the bloody plane for seeing to this man’s medical needs.”

The stewardess recoiled and walked away with a sour look on her face. Newton viewed all this hazily and almost smiled but then suddenly felt the urge to head for the toilet. He dove in and vomited again. Hermann was almost starting to feel queazy himself and stood in the tiny folding doorway wondering what to do, trying not to think about the shape of his ass in those tight black jeans. Newton stood up, wiped his mouth and face with Hermann’s hankie and sat on the toilet seat, panting and sweating. Hermann stepped forward, putting a hand on Newton’s shoulder. 

“Are you feeling any better at all?”

“Not much. I wish I had something to take for it. I forgot to pack anything, like a moron.” Suddenly, Hermann’s face lit up.

“Are you allergic to ginger?”

“No, why?”

“I’ve packed some ginger capsules in my bag. I’ll go get them. Don’t move.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, dude,” Newt replied but Hermann had already tottered back to his seat to get the capsules out of his briefcase. He returned to the stall with a glass of water. Newton had already thrown up again. Newton winced but took a capsule. Hermann gawped at Newton’s garish tattoos that seemed to accentuate the muscles in his arms. 

“It might not have any effect. But it could ease your stomach a bit.”

“Thanks, man. I’m just gonna sit here…just to make sure I don’t need to…” He was shaking a bit. 

“Don’t think about it. Just relax,” Hermann said. 

“You don’t have to stay here, yaknow. I made your flight pretty shitty already. You can go sit down again if you want.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“Thanks, dude. You’re awesome.” They don’t say anything for a few minutes. Hermann watches Newton close his yes, grip his knees with strong hands.

“I think the turbulence has died down,” Hermann said, his mouth dry. Newton tried to stand, but sat right down again. Hermann reached out to him and Newton was able to stand. They made their way back to their seats and Hermann avoided the stern gaze of the stewardess. Newton still looked a bit rough, despite having a little more color in his cheeks. 

“Still a little queasy.”

“Look down the corridor and focus on that curtain. Keep your head very still, alright? Lean back, that’s it. Take deep breaths.” Newton did as he was told. 

“Thanks, ma,” Newton joked benevolently. Hermann smiled.

“Why don’t you close your eyes,” Hermann said, putting a hand on Newton’s thigh, his sexy, tight-trouser-clad thigh, before he could stop himself. Newton drifted off and woke up just before they landed. He looked down to see Hermann’s hand on his leg. He had drifted off too. Newton carefully slipped away, got his toothbrush out of his bag and went back to the bathroom.

“You alright now?” Hermann said when he returned.

“Yeah, 98% better. Thanks to you.” Hermann gazed at him awkwardly. Soon they landed and got off the plane together. 

“Um,” Hermann said sheepishly, “Sorry if I got a bit…if I touched you a bit too much.”

“No, it was great. Very comforting. Really, I appreciate it.” Newton clapped a hand on his back. 

“And, sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“No you didn’t. I think you frightened a stewardess, though.”

“Oh, I made a fool of myself.” 

“No, dude, it was badass.” 

“Well,” Hermann heard himself say as he felt the inevitable tearing away from a new acquaintance. 

“Can I have your phone number?” Hermann stopped dead in his tracks staring at Newton. “You know, in case I ever need to stock up on ginger capsules.”

“Of course,” was all Hermann could manage. He suddenly wondered if a person could get motion-sickness by simply standing in an airport. He typed his number in Newton’s phone and handed it back to him. Newton stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. Hermann snapped his eyes shut, a faint waft of mint, masking any lingering smell of sick, clouded him. 

“I have to know where to return the hankie to, somehow,” Newton said, smiling, walking off with a stronger step. 

AU where Newt is a gardener and Hermann is the reclusive, lonely man who hires him and ends up talking with him through notes and watching him through windows like the love struck creeper he is.
Anonymous

skull-bearer:

Hermann finds the latest note tucked under the windowsill and sighs, trying to maintain some level or exasperation- if only for his own strength of will- he should throw it away, but- as always, his fingers seem to ahve their own thoughts on the matter and the note is open before he is really aware of it-

Hey Herms, the magnolias are coming up well, aren’t they? I managed to get a few cuttings to replace those white roses that died last year. Hope it doesn’t rain again!

Hugs and kisses xxxxx

Newt

Hermann moves his chair over to the window and twitches the curtain just enough to peer out. Newt is bent over the sadly empty flowerbed where his roses use to grow, scent so rich it filled the house, swept over Hermann and taking him, if only for a few moments, out of himself-

For now though, his eyes are drawn away from the roots going into the earth and the little white buds nodding over the freshly tilled earth, up to the strained white shirt over Newt’s shoulders, the curl of his biceps as he  works, the comfortable swell of his backside in his worn out, muddy jeans-

Hermann grits his teeth and pulls away, pulling the curtain closed with more force than is warranted- why is he doing this- why didn’t he send this man away the moment he looked out and saw him- is it not enough to live like this- alone, never going out- without torturing himself like this-

The crash of thunder breaks him out of his reverie; it looks as though Newt’s hope for no rain is about to be in vain. Hermann rolls his chair to the door and hesitates- five years ago, he would have opened it, invited the gardener inside, but now-

The rain will be here in a moment, and Newt does not live nearby, but to let him in, to allow someone in his house- allow someone to see him, after so long-

A flash of light no vivid it’s visible even through the curtains, less than a split-second later there is a scream like the sky tearing in two- the storm is directly above them- that bolt must have hit the church spire and Hermann knows enough to know no one should be out in this;

Without letting his mind consider it any further, he open the door.

The sky is bruise-mottled, purple and green and alive with thunder and flashes of sheet lighting; Newt is frozen in the rose beds, eyes fixed on the sky and hair starting to stand up-

"Get inside now!" Hermann’s vocie is thin and feeble in his own ears, but somehow Newt hears him, he turns, eyes wide, and its impossible to tell which is the worse shock- the sudden storm, or seeing Hermann;

"Move!" Hermann tears his throat with the scream, just as the roof starts to crack and clatter- golf-ball chunks of ice crashing to the ground- the garden will not survive, but at least it gets Newt moving; he starts to run towards the house;

Hermann rolls out of his way as Newt races, in closing the door against the next shattering roar of thunder- the spire again, or some unfortunate tree-

Newt is panting, his shirt is soaked with sweat and sleet and melting ice, showing through vivid from the tattoos Hermann religiously mapped over the months; the curve of his pectorals, defined after months of work, the solid mass of his arms, the soft roundness of his belly pressing multicolored and taut against the translucent fabric of the shirt; Newt blinks, and his eyes settle on Hermann.

Hermann fights against the urge to turn away, cover his face and not let himself be seen- the twisted ruin of his hip, the scars from that horrific car accident mapping over his left arm, mottling pink across his face; Hermann drags his eyes off the ground, forces himself to meet Newt’s eyes;

It’s so hard to do this, after so much mockery and pity and hate and disgust, but he manages it;

Newt does not look mocking, disgusted, and there is no pity or hate in his eyes; he’s smiling, as though seeing Hermann was every birthday and Christmas rolled into one, looks him over as though Hermann is something wonderful, something he’d never dared to believe he would have;

"Hey," Newt’s voice is soft, and he takes a step closer to Hermann, "Thank you,"

"I couldn’t leave you out there," Hermann bristles,

"Not for that," Newt steps even closes, kneels down until they are face to face, his eyes bright behind his muddy glasses, his smile brighter than the lightning, his fingers touches the puckered, marred skin of Hermann’s hand, he glances down, then up again, "Not for that."

Me like.

Who knew three months ago that my life would be destroyed by two fictional characters.

I think "tempestuous relationship" means "bickering interspersed with passionate, angry boning on every available surface and article of furniture except the ones that would actually be comfortable for boning on."

chalchiuhtotolin:

Thank you, Tez.

You are flawless and so is this ask.  I value this ask.  I value it greatly.

Oh look, here’s a good space.

Greatest in his field

I fuckin love this guy.

Florals and Fractals

ao3feed-geiszlergottlieb:

Florals and Fractals

by

Newt is a florist. Hermann is a tattoo artist. They don’t get along.

Words: 3231, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English


read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/1vqd53T

An Edit a Day ⚜ Benedict Cumberbatch ⚜ [249/?]

Can we talk about how John is wearing Hermann Gottlieb’s coat?
An Edit a DayBenedict Cumberbatch ⚜ [249/?]

Can we talk about how John is wearing Hermann Gottlieb’s coat?

geiszlerandgaila:

gryffinewt:

princeowl:

the fact newt waits for hermann when they’re walking is like this tiny little background detail but i feel like crying every time I think about it like I’m being completely straight here i get so emotional because most people don’t do that

they’re buddies and they want to stand close to each other 

yES I NOTICED THIS DETAIL LIKE THE SECOND TIME I WATCHED THE MOVIE AND I HAVE POINTED IT OUT TO EVERYONE SINCE THEN AND NO ONE APPRECIATES IT ENOUGH

Newt makes fun of Hermann for some of the things Hermann chooses to say and do, but he respects who Hermann is. Newt cares, he really cares and he really respects Hermann and he treats him with respect when it really matters, in the little ways like this and I am nEVER OVER IT

K, I must have blinked because I didn’t see it. Which scene? 

Your heart is the size of a fist because you need it to fight.
Lora Mathis (via royal-grimm)
bleachlondon:

Hair by Sharmaine using #BLULLINI For #PolyesterMagazine photo by Arvida Bystrom

bleachlondon:

Hair by Sharmaine using #BLULLINI For #PolyesterMagazine photo by Arvida Bystrom