hitmeeh

[hitmeeh]

A great combo with my favorite characters in one trailer. I couldn't pass by.

[hitmeeh]

Re: blorbo from my research, here is my favorite ever case study. I'm obsessed with it.

Summary:

- Guy presents to neurology with muscle issues, very clearly has something going on but diagnostic tests are inconclusive

- History is mostly unremarkable. Key word, mostly. He drinks four liters of plain Earl Grey tea per day. For context this is nearly twice the recommended daily fluid intake. All fluids, to be clear, not just tea. He only drinks tea tho

- Bergamot is known to be phototoxic in high doses (reacts badly on your skin with sunlight)

- APPARENTLY nobody previously has consumed enough of it for it to be widely known that it is also, apparently, mildly toxic to ingest in high doses

- Guy starts drinking plain black tea again. Only 2 liters this time (he didn't have a medical reason to drink that much tea, he just liked it) and so now he's fully recovered

[hitmeeh]

'Cause I'll Be Thinkin' About You

This is for @ant-heia who is another year older and a little shit.

Ao3

Beatrice is early.

But then again, Beatrice is always early.

Except for the one time she had been late for practice because her coffee was stolen and she had to turn back around; having tasted the most nauseatingly sugary mess of a drink that had ever been concocted in the world, only to find the thief that had taken her drink had also returned to the scene of the crime with an equally, albeit charming, grimace and dissatisfied look adorning their face.

(*)

Yesterday I saw the sun shining

And the leaves were fallin' down softly

My cold hands needed a warm, warm touch

And I was thinkin' about you

As Beatrice sits on one of the numerous benches aligned parallel to each other at Union Square Park, a sudden cool Autumn breeze streams through the trees causing her to pull her coat’s collar closer, nose digging into the material seeking out any kind of warmth it can provide. The hot coffee had run out about thirty minutes ago and she was now much too comfortable and scared—just in case—to go wandering off for more.

The statue of the Marquis de Lafayette had been her only companion in the still hours of the morning. He's constantly confusin', confoundin' the British henchmen, ev'ryone give it up for America's favorite fighting Frenchman. Lafayette! That and the ever looping lyrics from Hamilton. Curse you Camila.

This morning, she is aggravatingly early. Even by her own standards. The market doesn’t open until 8 a.m. and from the last lap she did down E 17th St, the vendors had only just finished setting up their stands. Each filled to the brim with fresh produce, copious amounts of bread—still warm from the oven, or buckets upon buckets of colourful flowers just waiting to be taken home to be put in a vase—and left to die, etc, etc, etc. 

Union Square Market is not a place she has frequented, correction, it’s not a place she has come to at all. She prefers to streamline her access to groceries, accompanied with the creature comforts of heaters and air conditioning, dependent on the weather. Not this. She doesn’t normally have time for this. Nor does she think it necessary to make the time. Beatrice doesn’t have time for much outside of her strict regiment.

Which brings us to why she’s here. Or. The better question, who she’s here for. Because the why isn’t important. Not really. Only the who.

And the ‘who’ in question is Ava Silva. 

Ava Silva, who stole her cold drip coffee one mundane morning and ever since then, her heart has yet to recover from the blow.

The poor thing is a complete mess right now. Her heart, that is. Not Beatrice. Well, admittedly if asked at knife point, she would agree, but this isn’t the case, so, Beatrice is in fact not a mess. No, sir. Not one bit. She would spurn such notions. How absolutely silly to think otherwise. Absolutely unfathomable.

During practice, Lilith had said with an almost self satisfied smirk, “I bet a headless chicken can outspin you, your pirouettes are all over the place today. And don’t you dare attempt a tour en l’air, you may actually injure yourself.”

While having lunch Camila had reached over and taken not one, but three tteokbokki from Beatrice’s plate, an act so criminal in its nature that it had taken several days, a lot of pouting, and puppy dog eyes, to forgive. “You usually inhale your food so I just assumed you weren’t that hungry. Did you fall asleep listening to Norah Jones again?”

Yasmine had punctured through her tutu, with the needle long enough to pierce skin, yet, they both stared in wonder as Beatrice had barely flinched or registered the pain. “Hmm,” Yasmine hummed, pulling the needle out without a second thought. “I should probably get the medkit. I think it went deeper than I first thought.”

The absentmindedness had begun then. And it still has yet to stop. 

But here I am lookin' for signs to lead me

You hold my hand, but do you really need me?

I guess it's time for me to let you go

But I'll be thinkin' about you

I'll be thinkin' about you

Ava Silva had figured out her coffee order a few days later. Plastic coffee cup in hand and what appeared to be a slightly smudged set of numbers starting with (212) written around the side. The condensation already making its way through the ink and leaving the numbers difficult to make out.

“Crap,” Ava had exclaimed, followed by an annoyingly endearing pout. “In my mind that went a lot smoother.”

What had caught Beatrice off guard the most was how quickly she had pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Fingers awkwardly navigating the well memorised button path to her contacts as nervousness consumed her whole. And Beatrice knew she had been painfully obvious with how disconcerting and out of the norm it had all been because Ava had chuckled fondly beside her. A peculiar, bemused smile playing by the corner of her lips.

And that had been it. That had been it for Beatrice. Ava had sent her off on a tailspin from which she has yet to recover.  

A strange sort of haze has taken over her life. A haze in the sense of just how new this all felt. 

Everywhere she looked, there was Ava.

Ava was in the gradient of yellow, orange and red Autumn leaves. 

Ava was in the chatter, car honks, and construction noises that followed Beatrice everywhere she went. 

Ava was in the very air she breathed, a rate which fluctuated from 12 to 20 breaths per minute, just from spotting her across the cafe each morning.

Beatrice is early because last night she had, by some sort of divine miracle, managed to gather enough courage to climb back up Ava’s emergency fire escape ladder, knocked on her window –– Ava barely holding in her startled shriek before she had realised it was Beatrice, and hurriedly thrown open the sliding window, stared at her lips for exactly three seconds before leaning in and brushing their lips together.

And then she alighted from the fire escape like she had committed a robbery, stolen a jewel perhaps. Scrambling down the freezing metal of the ladder, and running like a headless chicken right back down into the freezing New York City night.

Ava Silva

[Why did you leave in such a hurry?]

[Need to get a good night’s rest before the market tomorrow.]

[Uh-huh.]

[Yeah-huh.]

[8:30 okay?]

[You’re being very cute and avoidant right now.]

[Who says? I don’t know what you mean.]

[8:30 it is!]

[You’ll have to keep me in check. I have class at 1pm.]

[No promises.]

[Best I can do is try.]

[Don’t forget to bring a scarf. It’s going to be a cold morning.]

[I won’t.]

[Goodnight!]

[Goodnight, Ava.]

[Are you thinking about it as much as I am?]

[I haven’t stopped thinking about it since it happened.]

Approaching footsteps startle Beatrice from her thoughts. 

Ava’s cheeks are pink from the cold, little puffs of warm air emitting from her parted lips. She awkwardly waves with two occupied hands, coffee cups swaying from side to side. Liquid gold in danger of bubbling out from the lids. “Hello,” Ava says, coming to a stop. A red knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. She extends one of the coffee cups out for Beatrice to take. “I thought we agreed on 8:30.”

“Is it too early to let you know that I am scarily early to everything? Besides… you’re early too.” Beatrice replies and it makes Ava laugh, enjoying the sight of what is probably a very embarrassing shade of red brewing on her face. 

Ava doesn’t reply right away. Probably taking in all the nervous energy radiating out of the both of them and figuring out a way to dissipate it. 

The world begins to feel smaller. Quietening down to just the two of them.

“I think some of the stalls are open already,” Ava says, now lifting her free hand for Beatrice to take, fingers wiggling around.

“Oh…um.” 

“My hand.”

“Grab it?”

“Yes. That’s what it’s for.”

Their fingers intertwine easily. Slotting perfectly together, almost as if that would have been the case all along. Ava gives a small squeeze, curling her fingers around slowly until their palms come together, before giving their joined hands a tug and pulling Beatrice off the park bench. Their eyes meet somewhere in the middle of the action. And Beatrice watches on as Ava’s eyes adjust to the change in height, tilting her head upwards to not break eye contact. 

And then both smile and neither let go. 

So when you sail across the ocean waters

And you reach the other side safely

Could you smile a little smile for me?

'Cause I'll be thinkin' about you

I'll be thinkin' about you

I'll be thinkin' about you

I'll be thinkin' about you

[hitmeeh]

normalise saying ''what the fuck is wrong with you'' to mean people

[hitmeeh]

Please allow me to introduce myself… (hope you guess my many names)

[hitmeeh]

Hi I haven't done a lot of crocheting this past week. I've been fostering an abandoned bunny my brother found in a bush if I can use that as an excuse. He needs to be supervised when hes let out of his cage, so I'll bring my project into the room thinking I'll get something done, but then once he's out all I want to do is play with him.

[hitmeeh]

making friends via fandom is inherently hilarious because in many ways it's like a regular friendship and sometimes you'll share stuff that's going on in your lives and offer support and talk about food or pets or random cultural stuff because you live on opposite sides of the damn planet, but also some of your interactions are like "hello beloved friend whom I cherish deeply, I have brought you a deceptively platonic gift of lovingly crafted star wars porn"

[hitmeeh]

“average person eats 3 spiders a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Georg, who lives in cave & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

[hitmeeh]

Jeri Ryan and Lucy Lawless from their TV Guide photo shoot. This would have made for one helluva crossover episode and a lot more fanfics (because we know some somewhere have to exist).

[hitmeeh]

Babe, are you wearing the

[hitmeeh]

i bet belle and hua mulan would love each other. the filial piety brothers 💪

[hitmeeh]

Since people seem to like my pride outfit!

[hitmeeh]

ai can’t deliver a painting to you with cat hair stuck in the paint strokes. but i can. and i will, every time. you don’t even have to ask.

[hitmeeh]

i had a dream that tumblr implemented a new feature where you could put physical items in someone's ask box so you could send handwritten letters and notes and stuff, but in practice you ended up needing to clean out your ask box weekly because people would just fill it with stuff like wet leaves and sand and ketchup

[hitmeeh]

[hitmeeh]

this is your reminder to find and download your favourite fics in case they disappear because one of my fav xena fics has fucking vanished from the face of the earth and I'm crushed

[hitmeeh]

Toddlers are so pure. She doesn’t understand that we help her with certain things because she’s little. She thinks that everyone just helps each other like that. So she tries to blow on my food and cut it up for me and tries to help me put on my shoes.