so-hollow

6

So Sleepy Hollow  returned from its endless hiatus with a BANG, I’d say. “One Life was an excellent episode all around, but especially for its tour de force performance from Tom Mison. Your heart just ached for Crane, and his quiet, understated expressions of loss and loneliness and desperation were extremely effective, I thought. Every emotion played across his face; no words necessary.

Then there was the handporn! So much handporn. And who knew forearm porn was a thing too? Well, after this episode it certainly is.

(Photos from the ever-useful screencapped.net.)

So, how many times has Crane replayed his “come what may” exchange with Abbie? And wish he’d … you know, finished the lyric? Said “love” instead of “care”? Told her, “no, Lieutenant, I’m sorry, I’m not ready to charge in there, because there’s something I need to tell you first”?

How many times has he berated himself for not saying something more before she walked into the tree? Even though he thought at the time that he oughtn’t burden her with it and oughtn’t be so selfish as to say, he can’t stand the fact that, wherever she is, she doesn’t know he loves her? That she doesn’t know she is the most precious thing to him on the face of the Earth–hell, across all nine realms of the cosmos?

How many times does he imagine all of her possible reactions, and now–scared as he was at the time–is firm in the belief that even if she had been angry with him, had rejected him outright, that she’d at least know?

Is this what he thinks about when he’s heating Sad Lasagna in a frying pan?

Of course it is, right?

  • Me:I'm gonna read this fic even though the tags are making me kind of nervous and there's a very real possibility that I'll regret it
  • Me after finishing the fic, feeling sick and uncomfortable:I don't know what I was expecting

man my capacity for affection was really, really horribly dulled on wellbutrin for like…the last two years? I literally forgot what I normally felt like for people because it’s been so long? sometimes it was so bad I was following a formula like “okay well to show affection before I would have done x and y, so I’ll do those things because Old Me would have wanted that”

I honestly felt like I was housesitting a house that wasn’t mine, waiting for the owner to get back, trying to keep doing things like they would have wanted and it felt so awful and hollow

and I’ve been off of it for a few weeks now and it’s all slowly coming back and I don’t know how to handle it anymore

I want to hug everyone all the time and I keep feeling such strong waves of affection for people that it’s overwhelming and I start crying

and you’re all so cute and I want to tell you all how great you are but that’s kind of creepy so I’m. I’m trying to not do that.

keep yourself together, lily.

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HOW VENUS SHAPED YOUR HEART

♈ ARIES // A fiery inferno. An organ set ablaze. Unimaginably hot and wildly untamable, fervently consuming all it is fed; the good and the bad. It radiates a heat that can thaw cold cheeks and frost from shivering lips – or engulf you, swallow you whole and leave you as nothing more than smoldering ash. This heart needs generous kindling and constant stoking. Never to be smothered or snuffed out. It beats in booming thunder, and bleeds in plumes of smoke.

♉ TAURUS // A whittled heart of knotty pine, with intricate floral patterns etched deep into its wooden surface. A lacquered finish makes it sleek and glossy. A natural beauty. Carved and hollowed out, so that it can collect all the beautiful trinkets it finds, and lock them away. This heart needs an antiqued key, and reliable eyes that can cherish each and every lovely treasure they’ve buried so deeply in their chest. It beats in gentle echoes, and bleeds in sweet, sticky resin.

♊ GEMINI // A gilded, golden cage, with ornate engravings on every spindly, metallic bar. Glinting and gleaming in playful light; it dazzles and draws many admirers near. However, if they step too close, or extend their fingertips to touch – the hundreds of tiny, frightened finches inside release shrill and frantic chirps from silver beaks. A flurry of ruffled, rosy plumage. This heart needs a patient hand to release the latch. To let the feathers fly, and simply listen as the birds sing. It beats in the flutter of wings, and bleeds in pastel sunrise.

♋ CANCER // Tessellated sea glass and elegant vintage lace; smooth and embellished with pearls that glow soft and argent like the moon. It contains the entire ocean, with all it’s depth and warmth and comfort. Churning, swirling, salty waves flood the arteries and fill it will the soulful beauty of the seas. A home for many – a drowning place for some. Love flows uncontrollably, unconditionally. This heart needs lungs that can breathe underwater. Hands both strong enough to carry it, and so gentle it won’t shatter. It beats in the ebbing of the tides, and bleeds in soothing moonbeams.

♌ LEO // Lustrous sunlight encased in crushed red velvet. Luxurious and sparkling. Bold and rich. It transfixes others adoration and desire with the scintillating light that leak from its seams. It brightens and blinds all those who gaze upon it. Illuminating only the pleasant things, and melting the affection it is fed. This heart needs amorous eyes that have never beheld such a wonder, and will never forgets it’s beauty. It beats in boisterous trumpets, and bleeds in liquid gold.

♍ VIRGO // Precision cut and polished clockwork. Burnished brass and copper coils. Silver springs and cogs and gears that mesh and mash in a complex, synchronized rhythm unlike any other. When well-oiled, love ticks and tocks effortlessly; consistent and hypnotic. It winds and unwinds as it chooses. This heart needs feet that can get lost in a waltz, but still keep time. It beats like a syncopated metronome, and bleeds in bubbling amber.

♎ LIBRA // A twinkling, paper lantern; thin as the wings of a butterfly, and just as weightless. It emits a faint glow from the romantic light flickering inside, yet drifts listlessly through the chest cavity – as though no love can pin it down. It can be folded and creased to look like all that intimacy should be – but isn’t. This heart needs real romance. To be held with grace and loving balance. It beats in charming laughter, and bleeds in floral perfume.

♏ SCORPIO // A twisted labyrinth of thorny vines and ruby flowers. Dark and intimidating, but oh-so alive and growing. Roots constrict and thorns prick to fend off deceitful lovers. But if they’re willing to bleed – each rose that blooms will do so just for them. An endlessly beautiful garden; secluded and full of the richest reds and luscious greens. This heart needs love that is true and unafraid of hurt; that will not let the petals shrivel or wither. It beats in whispered “I love you”’s, and bleed in twilight skies.

♐ SAGITTARIUS // A gluey patchwork of auburn leaves and borrowed things. Stitched together from pieces of foreign hearts to form a hot air balloon-like contraption. Tethered only by heart strings, and fueled by an single spark. Always eager to take flight, to feel new heights, and caress the clouds. This heart needs a skyscape that never ends. A spirit with no map. It beats in whistling fire crackers, and bleeds in afternoon sunshine.

♑ CAPRICORN // An impenetrable exterior of compressed coal; smoky black and unattainable. However, if one stays and chisels for years, they’ll discover this hardened stone is a literal diamond in the rough. A glittering, jewel encrusted cavern. Its walls and arteries lined with vast riches; emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Resplendent and full of love. This heart needs one worthy of holding such a valuable chasm. It beats in refined symphonies, and bleeds in the boldest red wine.

♒ AQUARIUS // A sparkling prism lodged ambiguously in the rib cage where a human heart should be. It’s crystalline surface clarifies the cloudy, and gives the dull new splendor. It isolates and captures the smallest, most imperceptible glints of light, only to reflect and dissect the spectrum of color in it no one else would ever notice. This heart needs eyes that can peer through a kaleidoscope and see new rainbows every time. It beats in neon flickers, and bleeds in cosmic stardust.

♓ PISCES // Wispy gossamer and creamy silk, loosely woven together like a dream catcher. A tattered tapestry of delicate, warm fabric; embroidered with strands of silver thread and tiny beads of amethyst. This heart absorbs all forms love, and unfortunately, all sorrows. It is stained with the fingerprints of every hand it’s held. Soft and sensitive; it should be handled with the most tender care. It beats in soothing lullabies, and bleeds in shimmering, lavender bubbles.

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We all know about Game of Thrones, but what other ongoing series are based on well loved novels?
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@fen-n-tai

I thought of Cui-Fen and Tao…

darlablovesichabbie asked:

I sent a prompt to you, here's the second one. Crane tries to figure out what gift Abbie desires this year. He is unsuccessful seeking help from Jenny and Joe. Instead of just telling him they tease Crane about what she really wants.

12 Days of Ichabbie Christmas - Day 13: Take A Hint

Late? Who’s late? Me? What?……*runs away ashamed*


“I fear that I am at a loss.” Ichabod’s frown deepened as he scrolled further down the Amazon page he’d brought up on the screen. He’d been scouring shop windows, the internet and the discarded magazines that lay on their coffee table to find Abbie the perfect Christmas present.  Even now, as his eyes darted down the page, scanning the results of his “gifts for women” search - and finding some things that made his eyes go wide and his skin to flush with embarrassment - nothing jumped out at him as being something that she would like.

“What’s up, Crane?” Joe leaned over his shoulder and glanced at the screen. He smiled as he took in the list of “gifts for her” on the screen. “Having a hard time figuring out what to get Abbie for Christmas?”

“It has been a most stressful task.” Ichabod pushed the computer away from him with a huff and threw his hands in the air. “She has such wide and varied tastes that it is nearly impossible to pick an appropriate gift. And what’s worse, if she wants something, she goes and buys it. She leaves me nothing to possibly give her for the holidays.”

Jenny snickered from her corner of the Archives, lifting her head and sharing a knowing smile with Joe. They’d been watching Ichabod pussyfoot around his growing love for Abbie for what seemed like years.  While Abbie didn’t necessarily make it easy on him, dodging his veiled declarations as much as she dodged her own deeper feelings for him, it was becoming harder and harder for Jenny and Joe to watch two of the people they cared about suffer unnecessarily.

They had spoken about the lack of development in the “Ichabbie” front as they called them, on more than one occasion. Neither was willing to push Ichabod to confess his feelings simply because they couldn’t read how Abbie would react. Jenny swore to never approach Abbie about it ever again after trying previously and only getting vague answers, the cold shoulder or the occasional look that meant I will end you. Still, they were determined to meddle somehow. If ancient tablets and the Bible itself foretold that those two would find each other, then it only made sense that Jenny and Joe help make that happen.

“You know what, Crane? I think I remember Abbie saying there was something she was interested in.” Jenny closed her book and leaned back in her chair, preparing to do her best to plant just the right seed in Ichabod’s over analytical brain.

“Oh! Please enlighten me Miss Jenny. Unless of course it was something you were planning on buying for her.”

“Oh no, Crane. This is definitely something I can’t get her but I think it’d be perfect coming from you.”

Joe caught Jenny’s eye and immediately began to play along. “Oh, yeah! I remember what you’re talking about. I can’t remember the name though…”

“Me either. It was something English though, and with a really weird name.”

Ichabod looked back and forth between his two friends - more like family at this point - and was as intrigued as he was perplexed by this item that Abbie wanted and he’d never heard of. “Is it a book or a device of some kind? Perhaps it’s that Doctor Who phone booth contraption? The Lieutenant has frequently commented on our similarities though I can’t see them. He’s an old insufferable know-it-all.”

Joe coughed then pat him on the back to hide his bark of laughter. “No. You two are nothing alike.”

“You know, I don’t think that was it either.” Jenny stood and began to pace, trying to hold her smile at bay. “It was something super old…”

“Yeah, it had to have been what, two hundred or so years old?” Joe walked over to Jenny and winked at her. He probably shouldn’t be enjoying teasing Ichabod this much but he was sitting there with this earnest and eager look on his face. They could probably shout It’s you, you tall, British fruit loop! in his face and he still wouldn’t pick up on the message.

“I think it was. And pretty big too. If only we could remember exactly what it is that Abbie really wants. What she’s wanted, and needed for a few years now.” Jenny looked over at a clearly confused Ichabod and shook her head. Even as deep as his love ran for Abbie - and he was in love with her sister, of that she had no doubt - he’d never consider telling her how he felt as something Abbie would really want.

“While I appreciate your help,” Ichabod stood and walked towards the door, “perhaps it would be best if I went with something simple as her gift instead of relying upon your incomplete memory of what it is she desires. A new leather coat perhaps.”

Ichabod left the Archives in a huff leaving Jenny and Joe in a laughing heap. One of these days, he’d take a hint. Apparently, today wasn’t that day.