Mondays Are Such A... Well, You Know.

I love Tom and Liz! When you love someone you have no control. I’m a fan of a good ol love story. I don’t condone toxic relationships and for sure when this relationship started off, it was unhealthy, for a better part of the series. However, they were both working on and focusing on that simple normal life they both yearned and were making great strides when it was cut short sadly. Thru their ups and downs, one thing is for sure, these two ADORED each other and I don’t think anyone can contest that. Tom was LIz’s rock and accepted her AND her faults. So much so that Liz called the man she married perfect. Well… I think except for that one part, he WAS all those things. 

Despite the odds and a marriage that was built on lies on Tom’s part. He did his best to change. Remember Tom was just a child when he was recruited by the major. It was all he ever knew and was trained to be a dangerous operative. In the land of TBL spies/killers will be spies and killers. But Tom found love in Liz. And Liz was not pink and perfect. They shared similar backgrounds which is why they worked so well together. In a way, this post is more about Tom’s redemption. Tom is no different than any human being who decides to change their ways for the better. He was willing to pay the price for killing the Harbormaster. He did his very best to come clean and be honest. He was a great father. True, he had sociopathic tendencies but this began to shift and he grew as a character. A psychopath he most certainly was not as he CARED and had EMPATHY. Traits psychopaths do not possess. Here is a short  long compilation of screen grabs of scenes that I love. and a few gifs. :)

Day 7: “Crazy In Love”

@theblacklistrareshipsweek​ 

A compilation of some of my favorite Tom and Liz scenes. 

Day 2: “Damn your eyes”  (And those muscles!).

Red + muscle dude from Costa Rica. 

This morning starts not so good for Donnie…

But we’re hoping yours is amazing ;)

Day Four: “I’ll Take Care of You”

Whump moments with your favs. If that’s not you jam, alternatively, you may show us the moments they care about each other.

Drexel remains one of my very favourite Blacklist episodes because of this storyline in it. Tom felt cornered and took a stupid risk that nearly got him killed. He knows it was dumb (and admits to it), Liz knows it was dumb, but it highlights what’s most important in their lives: each other. They were both terrified that they’d never see the other again because of it.

Hurt/comfort is one of my favourite genres because of the emotional discovery it lends to. The characters are pushed to the brink and they realize just what was actually at stake. For this episode with these characters, it only helped them grow stronger.

@theblacklistrareshipsweek

Day 3, “Hands All Over”

Now Kiss and Make up

Day 6: “Nectar Like Lips”. Donald Ressler/Henry Prescott.

Now, kiss xD

The Blacklist Rare Ships Week

Day 5: “Come on closer...”

Let me begin by saying that this is a crossover pairing. I’d also like to say that I ship Reddington and Snape platonically. While I can see Sev getting together with a man, I can’t see that for Red. Besides, friendship is so underrated! It can be stronger than romance at times.

The similarities between Severus and Red are significant. Both of them are broken, damaged men who happen to be close in age (Severus is only a month older than Red, his birthday being January 9th, 1960). They both hide behind masks of confidence, whether it’s negative or positive. They both carry a lot of pain within themselves that they don’t dare share with others. They’re both immensely afraid of being vulnerable. Lastly — and most importantly — they’re both living in a state of purgatory.

They’re both morally gray.

Both of them have done utterly reprehensible things, and yet, they both have a deep sense of humanity. They’d certainly bond over their trauma if they ever met.

The difference between the two is that Red isn’t shy about telling people how he feels. Sev, on the other hand, uses Occlumency to prevent himself from feeling at all. There are moments when Severus’s rage is unleashed, but those are one-offs. That difference could balance out the dynamic quite nicely. Red would definitely be intrigued by the mystery of Severus, and using his abilities with charming small talk, he’d be able to draw a response from Sev.

These two would keep their distance, since I believe that Severus is sensitive to touch. He’s described as being twitchy, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a panic attack at the prospect of a hug. Red would have to learn that, though, since touch is literally his love language. But they’d be able to keep their friendship nonetheless, since neither of them are quitters.

A funny thing I’d like to think is that Red would be extremely drawn to Severus’s magic. He would definitely take Sev’s wand and examine it before asking Sev to perform some spells. Red would be absolutely enamored by the spell-casting. He’d be curious to learn about the Wizarding world and how witches and wizards operate.

Here’s an art piece I drew for my crossover fic on Sev and Red, Living in Purgatory. It’s the opening scene of the first chapter, where Red introduces himself in a similar way to how he introduced himself to Anne. If you’d like to read Living in Purgatory, you can find it on FFN and AO3.

FUN FACT: James Spader and Alan Rickman were actually in a film together. The film was Bob Roberts, a political comedy released in 1992. However, Spader and Rickman didn’t share any scenes since Spader’s appearance was a cameo as a news anchor.

Bonus day: Free Theme (Worth more than that)

A/N I couldn’t think up something for Crazy Love, so I just jumped ahead to the free theme and went with ‘worth’ XD I’m not getting full marks! But I hope you all enjoy! ______ Today is a bad day. He feels drained and sick, he should go home, but all he can think about is asking Red if it would be alright to hold him for a while.

He barely understands how it happened.

How Red, criminal, murderer and possible mad-man, snared Donald into his jagged-claw-hands, plucking him over the edge of sanity to stumble straight into that consuming darkness and by extension, into his bed.

It’s not entirely surprising on his part. He’s always had a strange attraction for the man – something he’d tried to hide under veils of snark and sarcasm. But to have Red act on it so… passionately, so intensely has always surprised him.

He still works for the FBI, chasing criminals down like a rabid dog, breaking them down in the confines of the interrogation room, or slamming the doors shut on their cages. But at night, when pale moonlight guides his way, he glides unsteadily into Red’s new luxury apartment, cabin or hotel room, and straight into his arms. They are always frantic. Hands grabbing and gripping on clothes and skin, mouths desperate and wild. Sometimes he believes if he lets go for even a breath, it will suddenly slip away and he’ll never be able to catch it again.

But he has reason to feel like this. Because he knows it can – and it will. Red has no reason to keep him around, no reason to truly care.

Donald is the definition of a convenient fuck.

He sometimes feels like a stray cat Red has decided to give food to when he knocks on the door. There is no reason for Red to keep giving him anything beyond basic affection. Yet he finds himself hungering for it, to the point that his stomach aches at the thought that one-day he will knock and Red will be gone.

So, he treads carefully, hoping to keep the inevitable at bay for as long as possible. He just has to stick to the rules.

He is only allowed to visit during certain hours of the day (8-12 pm at night) – certain days in the week (Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday). He is never allowed to touch Red on his back, and he is never allowed to stay the night. That last one stings, leaving him gaping and bleeding when he prods at the wound too long. Donald likes to hold people. Enjoys the feel of their skin against his, their breath over his face, their warmth seeping into his own. But once they are finished, Red stands, kisses him on the cheek and gives him the privacy to get dressed and leave.

He wishes he was worth more than that.

Today is a bad day. Three agents dead and all because he made the wrong call. Cooper has told him to go home, Liz gave up hours ago trying to coax him out for a drink and all Donald can think about is to visit Red, and hold him until this feeling of absolute agony leaves him.

He’s not supposed to. It’s Friday, Red is busy, he can go tomorrow.

But his feet decide for him, his hands in cahoots with his legs. They guide the car without much consent to the street he longs to be. And before he knows it, he is standing outside Red’s door, hand hovering over the dark wood.

You can’t risk angering him, he knows this, knows it in his bones. Their ‘relationship’ is made up solely of convenience and contract, if he breaks it Red can shut him out. He will stop giving the cat its food. And Donald will starve.

His hand lowers. How the hell has he gotten into the mess? When had he become so desperate for the kindness of a criminal?

When you fell in love with him.

The realization is not surprising or rightfully new, but the clarity of it sends a spring of tears into his eyes, making his breath shudder. Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot.

He turns and storms down to his car. Jumping in he drives back home at some speed. He got himself into this, he’ll get himself out. It won’t be hard, he’s done it before, and he’s seen himself through tougher times than this.

At home he rips open the door only to slam it, drops the keys in the bowl, rips off his jacket and pulls out the phone Red gave him at the start of this thing. He won’t be needing it anymore –

“Ah! Donald!”

He freezes, in the kitchen on his way to the trash. Red is standing in the living room, jacket removed, smiling with a glass of brandy in hand. Donald has no words; speech having fled into ether. Red takes a languid sip and walks closer, “I heard what happened today,” taking a final sip he places the glass on the counter and reaches up, “I thought you might want some company?” to touch his shoulders, to touch his face, and finally to kiss him softly.

Donald feels the air rush out of him in a pained gasp, and before he can think, he’s buried into Red’s shoulder, biting back loud sobs. He half-way expects Red to push him away, to hold him for a moment and then pick up his brandy again, but he doesn’t. He holds on, whispering soothing words into his ear, which seem to pierce straight into his soul.

Donald holds on, breathes him in, and lets the agony his worries seep out of him - at least for today.

Day 8. Висящий на цепи Ресслер и немножко нервно

Day 6: Nectar Like Lips/Whisper My Name

A/N I just had some fun with this one!  ____

“You have to give the USB drive to Reddington.” Cooper’s voice rings sharply over the small microphone in his ear.

“That’s gonna be a problem.”

He’s standing in the middle of a party – thank God for Aram’s ability to forge invitations. The local bluebloods and their rich posse are gliding over shining marble and in between tables dressed in silk and gold. Donald can feel his pleb breeding stick out like a dying rat amongst songbirds. He’s seen high society, but this is something else.

On a buffet, there are exotic birds killed and splayed out like delicacy. On another table, something is squirming in a bowl. A lady dressed in what he can only assume is a white leopard’s pelt, plucks a tentacled creature out of the bowl ad pops it into her mouth.

He feels the vomit push up into his throat.

That tight upper-class laughter sprinkles over the sway of conversation. Donald tries not to look as uncomfortable as he feels. He halfway expects someone to chase him out on principle alone. Where the fuck is Red? He wants to get out of here.

A familiar laugh pulls him to a sudden halt, he turns to find Red sitting cozy and happy on a purple sofa surrounded by a few smiling women. They are dressed about as scantily as he has seen in any nightclub, but he supposes the solid gold necklaces and stilettos shimmering with diamonds make it upper class.

“Reddington,” he says, already heading over.

Red glances up, his eyes flashing something sharp for a second before softening into the same old look of dark amusement. “Ah! My good friend, Donald!” he waves at him, clearly a little drunk, “What brings you to this little jamboree?”

“I came to give you –“

Red waves a hand, “Oh, come no. I thought you’d come to visit, to share in some delightful conversation and to expand your pallet with some exotic foods.”

The image of a squirming bowl of tentacles makes his stomach churn, “No, thanks.” He says, “I just need to –“

“Then kindly speak to me at a later date,” he says, smile sharp, “I’m sure it can wait.”

Red turns back to his women, dismissing Donald.

There is a long moment where he can’t think, his anger crawling up in his chest at a murderous speed. He’s halfway tempted to throw the stick at him, but then he might compromise the information. It’s already wrapped tight in a bit of silicone…

A thought comes to him.

Turning his back, he slides the USB stick into his mouth, then he heads over to the lady on Red’s left. While Red is busy with the other woman on his right, he taps the lady on the shoulder, giving her a nod of his head and a wink. She blushes a pretty pink and quickly stands to make space for Donald.

Once settled he reaches up and taps Red on the shoulder.

Red barely has a chance to open his mouth in surprise, when Donald pushes in close and slams their lips together. He can feel Red freeze under him, his mouth still slightly open. Smiling to himself, Donald quietly pushes the stick onto Red’s tongue waiting for him to take it.

Red responds, but not in the way Donald thought he would.

Two hands grip him by the sides of his head, keeping him in place as Red takes the stick and plunges his now free tongue into Donald’s mouth. He gasps. A full-body shudder shoots straight through him. His own hands grabbing for purchase on Red’s suit even as Red shifts his head for better access. Donald responds through shock or need, he’s not sure, his mouth shifting over Red’s, eager and wanting –

Red pulls away, his eyes now warm and soft, “Thank you for bringing me that,” he says softly.

Donald can only nod. His voice has run off somewhere.

Then Red leans in close, lips brushing his ear, “I’ll give you a proper thank you later tonight.”

Donald swallows, and nods.