#Reese writes

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

birthday blues

read here or on ao3

“—And I’m telling you that Lord Artemis Sterling is not only a personal family friend, but I am one of the literal saviors of the universe. Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah from the song. No, that’s my sister. “ Taako pulls the stone away from his face and groans. He rolls his eyes at Lup. “I’m being incredibly brave right now,” he says, covering the stone with his hand. 

Lup closes the book she was attempting to read and tosses it aside on the couch. She strides over to the stool Taako has taken to slumping on whilst trying this verbal sparring match and pats him on the shoulder as a glowing support of solidarity. Spying a patch of red hair on the back deck, she steps out of the almost too cold house and into the midsummer heat. 

She finds Davenport in the midst of what appears to be a game of solitaire.

“Mind if I hide out here with you?” she asks. Technically more of a formality, she supposes, given that she lives here. But Davenport’s been withdrawn into himself lately. Feels impolite to just drop in on him. 

His back is to the door, though he nods at an empty deck chair. “You don't need to ask permission to sit on your deck, you know.” His eyes stay on the cards, seeing some kind of pattern in the haphazard array. 

She shrugs, dropping into the seat across from him. The two sit in silence for a bit, the only noise coming from Davenport’s shuffling around of card piles. 

“What's he even doing? He's been at it all morning. I could only take so much of hearing his end of the conversation over my coffee before I came out here.” Davenport condenses a few piles down into even fewer piles. 

Lup pulls her knees to her chest, picking at the small hole in the knee of her pants. “He's planning this massive birthday party for us. Says that since this is our first together in a decade, it should be some kind of rager.”

Davenport exhales a laugh. “I remember when you and Taako insisted on celebrating your entire birth month during more than a few cycles.” 

“And you just went along with it!”

He picks his eyes up from the cards and smiles, “I'm highly motivated by cake, you know this! Shit, I still think about that delicious lemon and blueberry cake that Lu—” He stops himself, almost like he's been electrocuted. 

“‘The two of you shouldn't have to make your own birthday cake,’” Lup says, a near exact mimic of Lucretia’s tone. It really was a scrumptious cake, too. Ugly as sin, but only Taako had the heart to tell her so. Everyone else just wanted to spare her feelings. 

“Do you hate her?” Lup isn’t sure where this bluntness came from. Now isn’t the time. It’s never the time. 

“Do you?” Davenport’s head snaps up abruptly. 

“No,” She says immediately. After a few seconds, she amends her statement. “Yes. It’s…it’s not that easy. I asked you first.” 

He brings the cards back together to form a single deck and begins shuffling with the same automatic ease and speed that amazed Lup a hundred years ago. “I have so much anger inside of me, Lup. So much that it scares me. And this isn’t new, to be clear. Before I was in the IPRE, I got into my fair share of tavern brawls. I fought over stupid shit just to maybe get that anger out of me. It didn’t work.” He shakes his head as he makes a bridge with the cards. “It worked for a little bit. When we first started training for the mission, I felt so much joy, so much pride in our team that I thought it was going to split me open. And then we got the shit kicked out of us over and over again. I knew it was making me angry, but being struck down for wrath really put it in perspective for me. But knowing that we finally won and finally got to rest did a lot of good for me.” He begins dealing out another game. “And then she took it away. She took away everything that we worked for because she was a child who didn’t know how to deal with being told no. So I think maybe we’ve earned hating her.” He bites at the inside of his cheek and looks into the middle distance. 

Lup knows this expression well. After everything, talking too much became a bit more of a struggle for Davenport. He carries it well, all things considered. But she’s sure that’s just another tally against Lucretia. And it should be. 

“I spent a lot of time being angry in the staff. Most of my time in there, actually. Mostly at myself. And at the Hunger. And at all of you for not finding me. And at Lucretia, when I realized why none of you found me.” Errant pant threads get ripped off and dropped on the table. “I had thought that I’d done a lot of working through this shit in there. But then I got out and I really wanted to just fireball us all to the Nine Hells and back. Burn it all down so these poor bastards could start over without us. That wouldn’t have done shit though. So I got a job and I have this house with my brother and my husband and Kravitz and an obscene number of cats and I do my best to keep the peace between everyone because it can’t just be Magnus or Merle doing it but someone has to do it because we didn’t go through the meat grinder for 100 years for us to all hate her until she dies.” Lup runs her hands through her hair, tugging close to her scalp. “We fucking won and we’re just throwing away everything we fought for.”

“I don’t see the point in lying. She knows how I feel. How most of us feel.” 

“I’m not suggesting that you lie, Cap. I’m suggesting that you just consider finding a way that you can stand to be around her for a few hours. You don’t need to play pattycake and paint each other’s nails, but if you could not shoot daggers at her so she has reason to look like a kicked dog, I think it’d do us all some good.” 

“Right, gotta make sure everyone’s on their best behavior for this big birthday bash,” Davenport says flippantly. 

Lup smacks the table with an open palm, causing some of “I couldn’t care less about this stupid fucking party I want no part of!” A few birds in the backyard fly away on the wind of her outburst. “Everyone keeps talking about how this is so beautiful, mine and Taako’s first birthday together in ten years and I just don’t care.  I don’t want everyone staring at me. People who heard the story so they think they know me. Telling me how inspiring they find me. Who fucking cares? I don’t want to be an inspiration, I just want peace and quiet. I want to sleep in and eat dessert for breakfast and breakfast for dinner and not leave the house.” She shakes her head and looks into the yard. “Besides, you really think Taako’s letting Creesh in the house? That’s blasphemy inside those four walls.”

Davenport is quiet for a while. For a moment, Lup’s sure he’s just up and vanished into the mist or whatever it is men of a certain age do. But there he sits, steadfast and contemplative. It strikes Lup in that moment how much grey has crept into his hair; the unassailable captain looks so tangible, so fragile to Lup for the first time. 

Through the glass door, Lup spies Taako watching the pair of them curiously; must have been a little louder than she thought. She puts a finger up to her lips and then nods at one of the empty chairs. Taako quietly pulls the door open and pads onto the deck. Davenport barely glances behind him before nodding.

“My family never made a huge deal out of birthdays. The money usually wasn’t there. And I kept that attitude. Just another day and all that. And then when we were on the mission, the years blended into each other. I liked that. Didn’t have to dodge’s Magnus’s terrible attempts at subtly to see if I wanted new slippers. Didn’t have to admonish Barry’s incredibly unsafe fireworks because he thought that spells just weren’t the same because you couldn’t smell the chemicals hanging in the air after. Didn’t have to excuse myself to cry at cards and watercolor paintings of places I’d never get to see again. Just another day. And then I had the single worst birthday of my life, worse than when Faust Ironwood dumped me during my seventeenth birthday party. That’s a very big unseating, I’ll have you know,” He says blithely. He doesn’t elaborate and he doesn’t need to. Everyone alive knows all about Davenport’s worst birthday, lucky guy. “When it was just her and me, even before she got the Bureau off the ground, she tried to make it some kind of positive day. Even through all of that,” he waves his hand around abstractly, “I couldn’t stand it. I think I poured orange juice in her shoes over it.” 

“Waste of good orange juice, especially that late in the season,” Lup says, the barest hint of a smile on her face. 

“Should’ve sprung for sand. That shit stays in shoes until the heat death of the universe, I’m pretty sure.” Taako says, folding into an empty chair.  He looks over at Davenport. “Is that why you were in the middle of the ocean on your birthday this year?” 

He shrugs. “Nobody can ambush me with a cake if I’m alone on a boat. ” 

“You underestimate us,” Lup says ominously. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I’m with you, Lup, I can’t face all these people expecting this perfect happiness from me. I can’t celebrate with anyone from the Bureau. They knew me as a mascot and as a butler and try as they might, they don’t know what to do with me. Anytime they try to be deferential, it skeeves me out. They don’t know me. They can’t. I really don’t want them to, for that matter. I don’t want to get close to anyone. I don’t need more friends. I can barely keep up with the ones I have. Last thing I need is people trying to figure out what I want. I’d get stuck with ties and you both know how much I fucking hate wearing ties.” 

“I get it. I haven’t done shit for our birthday in—” Taako squints in thought for a moment. “‘Bout a decade.” 

“You what?” Lup demands. 

Taako raises his eyebrows. “Lup, I never even told anyone my birthday. Not my real one, anyway. I just used the idea of a birthday to get free shit sometimes. Angus fucking sleuthed out my birthday once and I hated it,” he says, not entirely truthfully. He shakes his head. “It just. My birthday, at least how I remembered it, always felt like torture. Then I realized I didn’t have to do it. So I just stopped.” 

“Then why are we renting out the entire Sword Coast for our birthday this year?” Lup’s exasperated. Once a fucking gain, she’s the victim of miscommunication and it pisses her off. 

Taako searches her face for…something. He’s looking at her and it’s the same look he gave their grandpa when he told them the real story about the tooth faerie and about how the tooth fae ate through enamel of people lost in the Feywild while they slept. The look almost says “take it back, you can take this knife you buried in my chest back and I won’t even be mad at you I promise.” 

“Lup, I thought you wanted this. I mean, it’s been so long. You’re…you’re back. This is a triumph and we didn’t get to celebrate because we were worried about not letting the embodiment of apathy vore the plane.” 

She sighs. “I don’t need the whole world to throw me a parade. I have everyone I love back and all I want to do is make up for lost time.” 

Taako smiles, a little sheepish. “Guess I should call and apologize to Lord Artemis Sterling’s secretary.” 

Lup nods. “Might be a good use of your time.” 

Davenport bites at the skin around his thumbnail, an old habit reborn like some kind of gross zombie. Everyone has their vices and, he supposes, he could have worse ones. “How about dinner? Merle’s been begging to have everyone over, especially because Chesney’s is about to open. Maybe we can do a potluck?” 

“Who’d be there?” Lup asks cautiously. Taako glances between the two of them. 

“Everyone? Not everyone everyone, but the crew? Kravitz. Anyone else you both really want. It’ll be nice to have a family dinner. Almost like old times.” Davenport suggests. It feels like he ate fiberglass insulation, but the light that rushes back into Lup’s eyes is almost enough to make up for it. 

“Everyone.” Taako agrees, surprising himself. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying for a good lemon blueberry cake.” 

Lup grins. “Me too.” 

[y0url0verb0y]

Okay, one last question regarding this post before I finish writing it :)

(left to interpretation means when I write the smut I'll refrain from specifying Evan's genitals so you can decide all that :))

[xazafranx]

Meanwhile in the Squidcraft games...

[voidling-prince]

"I asked the Arl to spare him..."

"I know."

[starstruckodysseys]

i love you repetition i love you motifs i love you recurring themes i love you sentences whose meaning changes over the course of a story

[agaypanic]

hii could i request reese realizing he’s in love with reader after they’ve been dating for a while? thank you!!

Hate to be Lame (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist | Request Something! | Tip Me :)

Summary: When Reese realizes he’s fallen in love with you, he tries not to make a big deal out of it.

A/N: title inspo is hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

***

Reese had never been with another girl as long as he’s been with you. He actually considered it a miracle when you hit the one-year mark, convinced that he would’ve fucked up in some way or accidentally drive you off by now. But somehow, he didn’t; Reese managed to keep his fuck-up’s to a minimum.

This fact made Reese twice as nervous and freaked out when he came to a realization one night. He was walking you home after a date, the two of you chatting about anything you might’ve missed and what you want to do the next time you see each other. You held hands the entire time, lightly swinging your connected arms back and forth.

When you got to your front door, you gave him a hug and kiss as you usually did. You lingered for a moment, not wanting Reese to leave.

“Call me when you get home, okay?” You softly requested, staring up at him. “Wanna make sure you get there safe.”

He nodded. You could ask Reese to run naked through every street in town while professing his love for you, and he’d probably say yes. The boy was utterly whipped.

After some final kisses, you finally went inside. Reese stood at your closed door for a few seconds, mentally preparing himself to leave and go back to the annoying chaos of his own house. But eventually, he turned around and went down your walkway.

“Man, I love that girl.” He mumbled before stopping dead in his tracks. He didn’t even think it; the words just tumbled out of his mouth. Reese was shocked at the statement, but soon shook himself out of his thoughts and kept walking.

But as he kept going, he kept thinking. Which wasn’t always a good thing to come from Reese. But instead of the usual thoughts of evil schemes and how to torment his brothers, he was thinking about you and what he just said to himself.

Love? He loved you? How could he be so sure? Reese had never been in this situation before; he had never gotten far enough with a girl for it to happen. But then suddenly, Reese recalled something his father had said to him many years ago, back when he had his first major crush on a girl. 

“All I know is your mother must carry some internal antidote, because through some fluke, I was lucky enough to get her.”

It was meant to be a warning for Reese and his brothers. Unless by some incredibly rare, once-in-a-blue-moon miracle, every relationship that they tried to pursue would end up crashing and burning because the Wilkerson boys were obsessive and insatiable.

As much as he wanted you to have nothing in common with his mother, Reese started to wonder if you also had that antidote. 

***

Reese’s discovery was at the front of his mind for the next few days. He quickly realized that, yes, he did love you. He also realized that the thought of telling you so made him scared shitless. Reese was so used to being the tough guy, the brooding bully that everyone feared. How would you react to him being soft?

“You okay?” You had been poking Reese’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. The question took him out of his thoughts, forcing him to look at you.

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted but nothing coming out. Then he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It was one of those days when you didn’t have school, but your parents were working, so you jumped on the opportunity to have Reese over. You were both settled down on the couch, watching some random movie after finishing the lunch your boyfriend graciously made for you. Perks of dating a culinary prodigy.

You noticed that there was something off about Reese lately. Well, he was more off than he usually was. But you’ve learned not to push him, and that if he really needed to get something off his chest, he’d do it when he was ready.

What you didn’t know was that he was psyching himself up to tell you the thing on his mind. Part of him wished that he had something prepared, but knowing him, he’d probably forget what he had in mind and fumble through his words. So Reese took a deep breath and bit the bullet.

“Not to be lame or anything, but I think I love you.”

Reese immediately cringed at his words. You’re so stupid, he told himself. Reese couldn’t decide what was worse: the obvious nervous quiver in his voice or the fact that he said he thought he loved you when, after the past week of contemplation, he knew that he did.

It felt like forever before he decided to glance to the side and gauge your reaction. To his surprise, instead of looking disgusted or weirded out, you were smiling at him. That small smile he loved so much, because it was always used for him.

You patted Reese’s thigh, holding back a giggle when he jumped at the unexpected contact. He was clearly still picking apart his confession in his head. 

“I love you too, you goof.”

It sounded so natural and casual coming from you. Like you had already known for a long time, instead of dealing with these sudden new intense feelings like Reese had. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“Is there anything else?” You looked at him curiously, and it was clear you had whatever antidote Hal had been babbling about. In an instant, Reese was calmer than he had been all week, and he nodded at you. Deciding he was telling the truth, you went back to watching the movie.

But Reese looked at you for a little longer, wondering how he got so lucky.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol @satans-bitch

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank

[all444glo]

[2:06]

“Ma’am... it’s 5 a.m. in Chicago What are you doing up?” Angel’s voice came through the screen, low and tired, but still teasing. Her lashes looked heavy, face bare, hair pulled back in a bonnet. She was laid up in a hotel bed, clearly not expecting your call.

You smiled, already blushing. “I went to bed early just so I could wake up and FaceTime you.”

Angel squinted. “You set an *alarm* just to call me?”

You looked down, tongue in your cheek. “Maybe...”

She shook her head and laughed a little. “You something else.”

Angel was out of state for the weekend—training or media or whatever they had her doing now—but either way, it had only been two days and you already missed her.

“Is now not a good time?” you asked.

“Nah, it’s perfect,I just settled into my room” she said, adjusting her phone so you could see more of her face. “I just hate knowing you up this early when you don’t have to be.”

You rolled your eyes and flopped back onto your pillow. “The sleep I get without you is ass, I be tossing and turning anyways”

Angel smirked. “I’m like that?”

You turned your camera off for no reason other than to get a reaction out of her.

“Cut that fucking camera on” She said sternly, you could hear the tiredness in her voice.

You giggled and came right back. “You so funny when you get mad, you got a lil temp temp”

Angel gave you a long stare. “Girl... you lucky I love you.”

“You always say that like it’s a threat.”

“It is,” she said, smiling now. “Keep playin’.”

You grinned, curling into your blanket. “What you do today?”

“I asked you first.”

You groaned. “Homework,” you said dramatically, then gagged. “I can’t even say the word without getting nauseous.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know you didn’t just do homework all day. Come on.”

You paused, thinking, then lit up. “Oh! I went and got coffee cause I needed to kill this headache.”

Angel groaned again. “That’s why you up, dummy. You stay actin’ like coffee don’t affect you.”

You took a loud, exaggerated sip from your iced cup. “Ho It was one drink…”

She raised a brow. “When did you get it?”

You hesitated, chewing on your straw. “Like... ten minutes before I called you?”

Angel sat up a little. “Ten minutes ago?! It’s 5 a.m, and you out gettin coffee?!”

“It’s right across from my apartment Angel.” you said, trying to justify it.

She tilted her head. “So you walked your little self outside in the wee hours of the morning… just to get coffee... as if creeps don’t be out here?”

You tried not to smile. “Well yes.”

“You love pushing my buttons.”

“And do!” you said proudly, knowing damn well what you were doing.

Angel just sighed, fighting a smile. “Lord, give me strength…”

You giggled, setting the phone up beside you and finally sliding under the covers. “Okay okay, I’ll stop trolling, you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” she deadpanned, then softened a little. “You really should get some sleep though. You sound tired.”

You grabbed you and Angels build a bear “son” and hugged it to your chest. “Can’t sleep without you here.”

Her expression shifted for a second—something softer, like guilt or longing. “I’ll be back soon. Just a couple more days.”

You nodded. “Tell me about your day. For real this time.”

Angel leaned back against the pillows. “Mm. Woke up early. Got some shots up. Did media stuff. Had to talk about that one game like a hundred times. Nothing crazy.”

“Did they feed you at least?”

“Barely. I had Chipotle at like six and that was it.”

“Not they starving my goat”

She laughed. “Girl, I’m good. But I miss home. Miss you. Real bad.”

Your face softened. “Miss you more.”

You both stayed quiet for a second, just watching each other through the screen.

“I can’t wait to be in our bed again,” she said finally, voice lower, more serious now. “Like, actually hold you. Not this little FaceTime version of you.”

“Soon,” you whispered. “You’ll be home. And I’m not letting you go nowhere.”

Angel smiled, that kind of smile she only gave you. “Say less.”

She kept talking for a little while—soft, casual, telling you about her teammates, her new sneakers, the playlist she worked out to. Her voice eventually faded into background noise as your eyes started to flutter.

She noticed right away.

“Go to sleep, baby. I’ll stay on.”

“Mmm... night,” you mumbled.

“Night, pretty girl.”

You were already out.

[solanumflare]

in scarlet hollow chapter 5 if we get to talk to a freed reese (post obedience/matricide/ttb) I desperately need to see an option where the player can mention to him how kaneeka randomly started seeming really sick on thursday and was then given medicinal tea by her mother and didn't leave her room the rest of the day. and then reese jumps to conclusions and/or murder. if this can be real I would really appreciate it

[pursuecrazylife]

I did not have my shipping goggles on when I started Person of Interest. I wanted to, rationally, compare it to Westworld.

That went well for a few minutes until John shaved, and I got hit by an intense crush on him which threw rationality right out off the window. This went on for a while until the Baby Episode.

There were signs of course beforehand, John using his free time to pine after, stalk Finch, and intensely stare at him whenever they talk...

Then the Baby Episode came along, and I was hit with this ship. Not in a 'Oh they have some fun chemistry going on, let's see them kiss', no it was immediately 'They're married your honor.' I'm sure if the grandparents hadn't existed John would have taken Leila home and raised her together with Finch. John probably already had the adoption papers drawn up and everything.

And then season 2 comes along and homegirl just brings a dog back, with the exact same vibe a long suffering spouse would have who always wanted kids, but their partner doesn't want any, so the compromise is adopting a dog, and a 'You better raise Bear together with me, or I'm divorcing you' type energy

Jonathan Nolan writing these scenes: "Is this how male friendships work?"

[lacunafiction]

Everyone else watching me pick the slow/cruel death option for Mr. Grinch: Hey [MC] if this is what you need to help you grieve your grandfather's death that's fine.

My MC picking the slow/cruel death option because it hurt Ruby: Huh?

You calling the corrupted spriggan Mr. Grinch took me out, Anon. 😂

(In Book Two, B refers to it as 'treeture', while R's clearly holding trauma a grudge against the spriggan with how they talk about it.)

R, if they knew about your ask:

R. Verner feels the exact same way should something/someone ever dare to hurt you, operating off of a vicious instinct to protect their beloved. (We'll have to see if that happens at some point in the series and just how far they'd go. 👀 ) They would find your action on their behalf irresistible and hot, but they'd also be touched that you care for them that deeply. R wouldn't quite know how to react—smitten yet turned on and feeling so much! (Too much?) Making a flirtatious remark about you being more smouldering than the corrupted spriggan's corpse paired with a saucy wink is one way to go. They teasingly skim their fingers along your wrist, capturing your hand to keep you close by their side. It's then that R's smile softens for you.

(Meanwhile, S and B are standing there like: 🫢😲 while you're sharing a moment that's sweeter than the s'mores at the bonfire you're at where you reveal why you slowly burned 'Mr. Grinch' for R.)

Thank you for your fun ask and best wishes! 💚

[y0url0verb0y]

VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION!

Hypothetically speaking if I wrote this as a short 5 chapter, give or take, fic would you want smut, no smut, or just implied smut?

[cannibal-nightmares]

random, but, thinking about it-- good, accurate, and respectful representation of schizophrenia in fiction and media probably saved my life and is 100% what helped me find resources for myself. by the way.

[age-of-moonknight]

“Pool Party,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #7.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Domenico Carbone; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[aphyray]

Something's coming... 👀

The Hunter's Elegy. Deadname ghosts and name necromancy in a dystopian future. A private detective novel full of cover-ups, cults, and penance. #acab

Starring discredited cold case documentary maker Reese Keyes and his justifiably egotistical new boss, private investigator Hunt Cheroneau, who's having him record their every arrogant word while the two of them solve a case that cuts far far deeper than either of them are prepared for.

-

The extremely visceral cover art there is by the very talented @morggo. Go check out their work! It's sick as hell!

[starstruckodysseys]

here’s the thing: you have to write the fics you want to see. and i don’t mean getting some ai program to write them for you. i mean pouring your love and adoration and blood and tears into your writing. i don’t care if it’s riddled with typos, if it doesn’t make any sense, if it’s the most incomprehensible or self indulgent or ridiculous thing in existence. because it’s something you forged with your own bare hands and imagination and willpower, and that will always be better than some soulless generated bullshit.

it’s called fanfiction for a reason.

[all444glo]

GLO’S BLÚ ROOM

easy blù chocolate, wouldn’t want you to melt ;)

✮GLO, 9TEEN, BLK, QUEER

✮⚽️🏈🎬📀🏀

✮ DNI: angel reese haters, sky haters, a’ja wilson haters, gamecock haters, uconn fans (that’s the only team you know), all of my works are specifically for black readers..if that makes u uncomfortable DNI

NAVIGATION ↴

masterlist

requests; i write for everyone pretty much! i watch everything!!