sharon27stuff - Tumblr blog

[sharon27stuff]

Essen, Germany (by samba_oleg)

[sharon27stuff]

is the world really such a terrible place? yesterday i asked if oat milk was extra and the barista said yes so i said ok just regular milk then and when she gave me my chai latte she whispered “i used oat milk ;)” doesnt that make u want to live another day?

[sharon27stuff]

I…I…🥺

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the blacklist // tumblr text posts (lizzington edition)

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I would like to wish everyone an uneventful new year

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Rest In Peace, Betty White (January 17, 1922 - December 31st, 2021).

Thank you for the laughs.

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just want to take a moment to thank content creators for getting us through another extremely difficult year. during a time of so much uncertainty, anxiety, fatigue, and burnout in the world, content creators still dedicated much of their precious time and energy to making gifs/edits, writing amazing fic, and sharing their incredible art for the rest of us to enjoy. thank you for making us smile, for lifting our spirits, and for keeping the love/excitement alive for all the things we find enjoyable. this hellsite (affectionate) is nothing without you ❤️

[sharon27stuff]

But at the end of it, she said all I needed to remember was that Raymond Reddington was the most important person in her life, besides me, and she was glad that I had met you, and she wished that we could meet again.

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letting a traumatized character have their happy ending where they can recover from their trauma will always be a thousand times more powerful than killing them off for shock value

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“You are the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep. And then the first thought when I wake up.”

🥺🥺🥺

(On an unrelated note: this prompt actually got me thinking... is Lizzy actually that first thing that Red thinks of in the morning that pushed even the thoughts of all the pain and loss he's experienced in his lifetime to the second place Red speaks of in his letter to Ressler in Mako Tanida? Remember that "There will be nightmares. And every day, when you wake up, it will be the first thing you think about. Until one day, it will be the second thing." part?)

Ummmmmm okay now I'm thinking of this and it's making me both happy and heartbroken so thanks for that 🥲

Raymond Reddington looked across the table at his beautiful wife, Elizabeth Keen. They were sitting in the dining room of a large ship, which typically would have had hundreds of people but which Red had, using his many connections and practically unlimited funds, managed to finagle so that the two of them, and the ship staff, were the only ones there.

"My goodness you are radiant, Lizzie." Red smiled as he took in her gently silvered hair, which still fell around her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes, which still sparkled in the evening sunlight. Her smile, which had accumulated several more laugh lines in the past years, and which was, to him, all the more enchanting for it.

She returned the smile, still completely taken by the way he looked at her. As though she was the only woman in the world. The only woman who had ever mattered. Who could ever matter. Even after all this time, he still looked at her like that. And it took her a moment to be able to reply.

"You always knew how to make me blush."

They had just finished dinner, and were heading out onto the deck to watch the sunset. Red felt a chill in the air, and so he took off his dinner jacket and placed it around Lizzie's shoulders, a gesture so familiar to her that she would have known it even if she'd not been able to see who was doing it.

She snuggled into the jacket, and him.

"A beautiful sight," Red remarked, and he could have meant the sunset, or Lizzie, or both.

They stood together, leaning against eachother. Lizzie took a deep breath of the sea air.

"Do you think we'll ever get tired of it?" She wondered aloud, already knowing the answer.

Red shook his head, winding an arm around her waist, underneath his jacket.

They wandered slowly back to their room after that, and Red watched as Lizzie carefully peeled the jacket off and placed it back in the closet, beside the others.

When it was time to go to sleep, the two of them curled up against one another, arms and legs all entwined and bodies snug.

"What are you thinking about," Lizzie asked, in a whisper almost too soft to hear.

"You, Lizzie," Red replied.

She twisted her body until they were face to face, nearly nose to nose, and sought out his gaze in the moonlit room.

"Really?"

"Yes really," he replied. "Lizzie, you are the last thing on my mind when I go to sleep. And then the first thought when I wake up. It's always been this way, for me."

She snuggled into him with a soft sigh. "Oh."

He placed a kiss on her head. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, Red."

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[sharon27stuff]

Can we talk yet about how endings are actually extremely important. About how sometimes “giving the fans what they want” is actually “resolving the story in a logical and plot relevant way”. That “subverting expectations” doesn’t always mean you did a good thing - sometimes it means you fucked it up, royally.

There are plenty of extremely good stories that don’t end happily, and yet remain retold and loved and cherished. There are plenty that have ambiguous endings or sudden turns - but manage to stick the landing through careful setup.

There is an odd tension between writers and fans that has become popular - that the writers somehow know something deeper or have a better sense of plot or are somehow more cunning. That fans are stupid and foolish and don’t matter. This dichotomy would be buckwild in any other field. There’s this sort of weird feeling that… The writing staff is allowed to hate and mock and deride people who have the nerve to… Like the product? Can you imagine any other brand that would survive off of “gotcha” marketing? Sure, it’s funny for them… And kinda only for them. I know all the ironic assholes in the world love this shit - “haha! You liked something honestly! I know better because I’m smart so I never like things!” - but the world is really fucking boring & annoying & unfun when it is run by people who think like that.

But even taking fans OUT of the equation, as a writer, it’s frustrating for me to watch other writers not value their OWN MATERIAL. Like, they don’t rely on the narrative as interesting enough, as challenging enough - they think they need to end it in a “surprising” or “sudden” way in order for it to be groundbreaking. They think they need to “push boundaries” without recognizing that they are fundamentally altering and destroying the map that they have spent all this time painting.

I’m not saying I have to LIKE how something ends, or that all of my favorite characters have to live or whatever. But I AM saying that an ending is drawing a thesis line through your entire work. And recently the thesis for many, many shows/movies/etc has been - “you were a fool for caring about these characters”.

Anyway art survives its creators when it tells a story that feels honest and human in the audience it is talking to - not when it is only a monument to the artist’s ego. And the ending tells us - how heavy is the story we are carrying? And how much was this story a farce? And where will we let go?

[sharon27stuff]

on misty paths

by Denny Bitte

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Do we have a franz kafka diary entry for july 1st, i want to know what he thinks!!!

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“Come here” looks like something Red would most likely say... which is exactly why I'd like to see Liz saying it)

omfg you totally got me - as soon as I read the prompt, I thought this is exactly what Red would say! then I read the rest of your request lollll

hope I pulled it off!

She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that he was in the room. His presence was palpable wherever they were, whomever they were with. Currently, she not only felt that he was here, but also the sort of things that he was feeling. 

“Red.”

“Lizzie.”

When she finally blinked her eyes open, she saw that he was hovering over her, concern and relief warring on his weary face. 

“Come here,” she said, patting the space beside her. The bed was certainly big enough for the both of them. Perks of private care, she supposed. Or, more accurately, perks of Raymond Reddington’s care.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She huffed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Your refusal to lie next to me will hurt me a lot more, Red.”

Blinking dumbly, they had a brief staring contest before he finally conceded. 

As if he could ever really say “no” to her. 

He lifted the blankets and settled beside her as carefully as he could manage, leaving a few inches between them lest he hurt her, regardless of her reassurances. 

Elizabeth was having none of that.

She immediately curled and cuddled into him, settling her head against his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist, and tangling their legs together in the way she loved to do. 

He stiffened for a moment, but soon relaxed and pressed a kiss into her hair. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Better now that you’re here,” she said, smiling.

A few minutes of content silence passed before he said, “I was so worried.”

“I know you were, Red. But I’m fine. It was just a car accident - could have happened to anyone.”

“I can’t lose you, Lizzie.” She felt his heavy swallow, the way his grip on her back tightened fractionally. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

“You’ll never lose me, Raymond. Not if I can help it.” Blinking the tears away, she teased, “You know more than anyone just how stubborn I am.”

He followed her lead in lightening the mood. 

“Yes, unfortunately.” He laughed when she smacked his chest, feeling so grateful to have her next to him like this, alive and relatively well. “... But it’s just one of the many things I love about you, Elizabeth.”

“I love you, too, Red,” she said, the pain medication slowing her speech. Yawning, she burrowed further into him. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? And maybe while I sleep, too, if you’re not busy? I want your face to be the first thing I see when I wake up.”

Her words served to melt whatever was left of his bursting heart.

“Of course, sweetheart. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

He’d stay for as long as he lived, if she’d let him.

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The one where Lizzy’s fantasy came true ❤️

[sharon27stuff]

ELIZABETH KEEN DESERVED BETTER.