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badolmen · 2 years
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You’re 26. Get a hobby that isn’t being edgy on a complete stranger’s 20 note post. Have you tried knitting? Media piracy? Something constructive?
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a-n-conrad · 4 years
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Thinking of You (Dabi x Reader)
[Summary: As a hero, you’ve been keeping an eye on all of the villains in your area for a while. Strangely, one of the worst villains you’ve ever seen seems to be going easy on you. Is he starting to give up on being a villain or does he just have a soft spot for you?
A/N: Did I post this on the wrong blog at first and not realize it right away? Yes, absolutely.
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of murder, lightly implied smut (kind of)]
As you sat on your perch, a small, darkened window, overshadowed by an overhang of the floor above, you took the opportunity to glance away from the jewelry store you were surveying to double-check the text you had gotten from Eraserhead giving you the intel you needed to know where and when to prepare your ambush of the villain you had been targeting for about a month.
Apparently, after his last run-in with the League of Villains, Aizawa had gotten enough intel that he was confident that one of the villains that he had run into would be attacking a store in your jurisdiction. Of course, he didn’t mention which of the villains it would be but seeing as a certain blue-eyed, fiery young man had been stirring up trouble in your area throughout the past few weeks you had figured it out pretty quickly.
You were a bit surprised that Aizawa had reached out to you, seeing as you weren’t exactly an extremely high ranking hero. You were decently new to the hero scene, having just finished up as a sidekick about a year and a half ago, but you supposed your old teacher from UA had to have at least a little bit of confidence in you. If he didn’t, he would have expelled you before you had a chance to become a hero.
The sound of shattering glass and frustrated cursing brought you out of your thoughts. Below you, you watched as a man, cloaked in the shadows of the alley, glanced to either side of him, before crawling through the window he had just punched in.
As he finished climbing through the window, you focused on your quirk, using your shadow powers to jump between the shadow you were already hiding in, to one of the shadows near the window, and then from there to one within the store, not too far from the man you had been waiting for the whole night.
“I can’t tell if you’re not even trying anymore or if your just the lousiest thief I’ve ever come across,” you say, leaning against a jewelry case, just behind the black-haired man, “I honestly expected better than you, Dabi.”
He chuckled as he turned around, the kind of chuckle that reminds you of an old friend that had just played a prank on you. His lightning blue eyes met yours and he flashed you a smug grin, “How’d I know that the cute shadow-bender would be the one to meet me here?”
“Well, I suppose we’ve run into each other enough that you just know that I’m going to catch you by now. Though that does raise a whole other question.”
“What’s that, doll?”
“Why do you keep coming back here?”
He raised his eyebrows a bit, showing that he hadn’t expected you to ask that question. Which, if you were entirely honest, was odd, considering it seemed like he was able to predict every other decision you had made since you first met him.
“And here I was thinking you knew a thing or two about solving mysteries,” He joked. It wasn’t until that point that you had even thought about how neither of you had even attempted to attack each other. And yet, even then you couldn’t think to do anything about that at the moment.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m sure you can put it together if you use that pretty little head of yours, honey,” he takes a few steps towards you, though somehow, even then you don’t feel like he’s threatening you at all.
“Let me see,” You trail off a little as you think, spacing out for a moment as you remember your past few run-ins with the infamous villain in front of, “Oh.”
“You got it?”
“I think so.”
“Present your case, doll,” He says, leaning against the jewelry case just in front of you, “You’re cute when you start to ramble.”
You ignore that last comment as you start to list off the clues he had given you in the past few interactions you had, “You’re going easy on me. You haven’t tried to kill me since we first met, and for you, that’s probably the weirdest thing you could do.”
He quirks one of his eyebrows up.
“You haven’t killed anyone else in my area either. You’ve been keeping it to smaller crimes around here. Robberies or vandalism. You’re still making a scene, but with fewer bodies.”
“You think I’m just demoting myself to the status of petty criminal?”
“Of course not. You’re still involved with the League of Villains. If you just wanted to focus on robberies, you’d leave them behind,” At think point, you really were presenting a case, you felt like you were back in school, having a debate, “I think the biggest clue is that you shattered the window today. You could have easily melted it and made less noise, but you didn’t. You were trying to get caught. And, as you said, you knew I’d be the one to catch you.”
“Oh? And what conclusion are you drawing from this?” At this point, you finally noticed how close the two of you were standing now. You were close enough to touch him, and as much as you refused to admit it, some part of you wanted to.
“You want my attention. But what I can’t quite figure out is why. Are you just trying to play with me? Do you have some bigger plan here? I just can’t figure it out.”
As you started to ramble even more, getting confused by your own question, he rolled his eyes at you, before quickly closing the gap between the two of you, pulling you into a surprising and slightly rough kiss.
Before you even realized it, you were kissing back. You closed your eyes and leaned into it. You finally had to admit it as you stood in the pitch-black jewelry store, being pressed up against a glass case as you and a wanted murderer made out, you were way more interested in this villain than you should be.
He finally pulled away. You had been moved to be pushed up against the case you were leaned against, so now he was nearly pinning you down to the glass, “Do you think that answered your question enough?”
You paused, staring into his eyes, that honestly look as though someone had trapped his own flames in diamonds to make them, “Not in the least.”
He sighed, and rolled his eyes again, “You are hopeless.”
“I’m well aware.”
“We have to get out of here,” He said, pulling you back towards the window.
“You’re not even going to steal anything?”
“God damn it, (y/n)! I’m not here to steal anything, I’m here for you!”
“Why?”
“Because I,” He cut himself off, “Look, we’ll talk about this later.”
With that, he dragged you the rest of the way over to the window, before letting go of your wrist and motioning for you to make your way out of the building. You nodded, and shadow-jumped just into the alleyway. He quickly climbed through the window after you. Eventually, the two of you made it through the alleyway to a building that as far as you knew, had been abandoned for a while.
“You know,” You said as he led you into the building, “You sure are breaking and entering a lot today.”
“Just,” He sounded a lot more frustrated than you had expected, though you had a suspicion that it wasn’t directly aimed at you, “Please be quiet until we get inside. Then we can talk, ok?”
You nod, and the two of you finally make your way inside, stopping a room that seems to have been decked out to function as a temporary studio apartment. He finally let go of your wrist. “Why do you keep coming back?”
He turned to face you finally and ran a scarred hand through his hair. He looked into your eyes and stood there for another couple moments, seeming like he was trying to think of a good way to word whatever he was thinking before finally blurting out, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“What do you mean?” you ask cautiously, already pretty sure that you know the answer.
“God damn it, you are making this way harder than it has to be,” He mutters, “Everytime I see you, I can’t stop thinking about you until I see you again. Just go on one date with me so that at the least I can get you out of my head.”
You had to admit that you had been feeling a very similar way, though you never would have admitted it before. Every time you saw him, all you could think about in the next few days were his piercing blue eyes. Every night when you were falling asleep you couldn’t help but wonder what his scars would feel like under your fingertips.
“What do you say, hero? One date and I’ll leave this section of the city alone for good.”
You looked into his eyes again before pulling him into another rough kiss. This time he was the one surprised, pausing for a few seconds before kissing you back with just as much passion.
Eventually the two of you started moving. You weren’t entirely sure who initiated it, but soon enough you were pinned to the bed that was halfway across the room.
He pulled away, no longer looking frustrated and anxious, and instead looking entirely too proud of himself, “I’ll take that as a yes then, doll.”
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gotmattitude · 5 years
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we’re gone but we don’t know where
WHO: Santana Lopez ( @trickstersantana​ ) and Matt Rutherford, with NPCs Julio Lopez, Someone.
WHAT: Running errands in New York City, doing some sponsor/sponsee bonding? Sort of?
WHEN: Sep 22nd
WHERE: A building in a dark alley.
WARNINGS: Mention of needles/injections, stabbing, manipulation, death, murder implied?
Santana walked, or almost run, alongside Matt through the city, too happy of her fake sense of freedom. She was too used to being trapped in NYADA. "C'mon, Hoodoo guy, we are almost there." She said with a big smile. She talked with her 'sib' Oliver to know where to met with them and her fake parental figure. She should be wary, she should warn Matt even more of how awful he was. But still, she was happy to see him and talk with him again. A happiness that would end quickly, she knew it very well. "This is the place." She said pointing to a   seemly abandoned building on a dark alley. The kind of place where super hero parents die. "Alright, fair warning. My 'dad' is a fucking ass. Like, the worst, the less he know of you, the best. Oh God, thank you so much for this Matt I will always value your sacrifice, I'm sorry you always have to met the worst... the worst of my kind when you are with me." She would love to tell him she could introduce him to a nice trickster someday, but she didn't knew anyone she liked. Her 'mom' only, but she didn't want to see Santana.  "Ready?"
Matt's internal gears were turning as Santana bounded through the streets of NYC. It was really about time that he used his privilege for something other than snarking Bloodlines on the internet, he thought, just as Santana urged him on. "I'm walking, I'm walking," he said, a little distracted, but speeding up to keep up with her. The building seemed sketchy, at least at first glance, but he'd slept in worse places before. He'd just keep his hands in his pockets; one on his phone, the other on his wallet. "Alright, sure. Is this your hangout spot, or?" 
He wondered what was up with Santana's 'family,' what they'd done, but didn't ask. Some people got shitty families. Some of them were shitty enough to add scare quotes to the word. He nodded along, until she started apologizing to him. "Hey, c'mon. Tamamo--Tamamo wasn't your fault. Your 'dad' is also probably not your fault. Besides, I know one badass trickster already, the bar was too fuckin' high," he joked. "And you know, you don't represent your entire race, and all that shit." Giving a last tentative glance towards the place, he nodded. "Don't let him know too much, he's an ass. I got it. I'm ready when you are."
Santana nodded at the question, but she wasn't that sure. It might be a trap too.  She knew it wasn't her fault, completelly, at least on the Japan part, still, she felt like she was dragging Matt into danger. But she wasn't sorry enough sorry to stop it. She smiles a little at the compliment. "Lucky for them, or they would be super screwed" She joked back. When she was about to open the door, someone opened it from the inside. 
Someone who looks very shady opens the door. They are a white teen, pretty shorty, with black hair and a red hoodie. Even without meeting them before, you could sense the annoying teen energy surrounding them. "Hermanita!! You finally arrived!!" They shout in a very bad spanish pronunciation, quickly hugging Santana to her exasperation. "Hay! Who are you? Who are you? A new friend? What's your name?" They ask very fast, looking at Matt, ending the hug with Santana and going to hug the other guy if no one stopped the energetic kid.
Matt chuckled at her joke, adding something like 'whatcha gonna do about it' before the door swung open, and someone... interesting came out of the other side. He tried not to be annoyed, but Aether, he'd barely been a teenager, and sometimes he was really grateful for that, including right then. An eyebrow raised, he was selfishly glad for a moment that this kid was Santana's "something"--although probably not her "dad"-- and not his. 
Until the kid started heading towards him. Frozen in place, he let them hug him, patting them awkwardly on the back as the only vague form of reciprocation. "I'm Matt," he said when the hug was released, and he could comfortably breathe again, in his own bubble of personal space. "I'm Santana's friend. What's your name?" It was polite to ask, but now he was also very curious. Where had this kid come from?
Santana groans and complains when the kid shows they're still existing. "Oh my God, I'm no family or 'family' or yours. I'm nothing yours. Don't bother Matt you brat" She fear Matt was already saying too much information, but hoped it won't scalate. She went upstairs hoping the others will follow. She enters a room that looked like it was abandoned for years until a little kid found it to turn it into their secret operation base. She entered the living room, completelly covered with a blanket fort, lots of toys and anime figures on the floor and snacks and sweets around. She rolled her eyes when she noticed her 'dad' was sitting on the couch. Inside the blanket fort. "God fucking dammit Cabrón. Really? Your idea of safe place to meet is where the brat lives, right?" She could notice how unconfortable was to be in a room with two other tricksters,  but she know Matt was the only one there that had to suffer 3 distrust auras. 
Someone smiles and moves nerviously and happy. "Do you have a tumblr, Santana's friend? Guess my name!" They said, and fake cries with Santana's complains while she goes upstairs "You're so meaaaaan, you both use me as a messenger and... hey don't ignore me!!" They say as the walk upstairs too. 
The man in the sunglasses smiles at seeing Santana appear, getting up from the couch, but still not being able to stand up fully for the blankets. "That's how you say hi to your old 'dad'?" He says, sound fakelly offended. "If you assume the horse kid lives here." He shrugs. "But let's get to the point, I know you aren't visiting just because you miss me."
Matt stiffens up when this kid asks for his tumblr. Were they going to hack him? Spam him?  Dig up his every secret and expose them to the world?? He smiles, tight and uncomfortable, and thinks for a long second. "I'll guess your name if you guess my tumblr URL. And no checking Santana's blog for clues." He's setting himself up for failure, he can feel it. But there was no such thing as being too careful, not in this city, not this year, not anytime. 
When they go upstairs,  underneath all the alertness, something twists in his chest. Santana had once told him their pasts weren't so different, and he knows many LN experience homelessness, but the childishness of the blanket forts, of the candy and the toys makes sympathy shine through. When Santana makes that comment though, he finds himself looking around. Is there someone here? Is this a setup?? 
Matt looks to Santana for guidance on how to react to this man. Her "dad". He gives a noncommittal nod when he speaks to her, but doesn't greet him out loud. Yet. Shit. Now he's also wondering why Santana wanted to come here when she thought so badly of her "family". Maybe she found out about Brownstone. Maybe this was a way to quietly say "fuck you" for being another sponsor with blood on his hands. Or maybe she is a really good actress and she hates shadow magic more than she let on. His eyes dart back and forward between all three tricksters, and he has to push himself to settle down. What the fuck, chill, he thinks.
Someone looks defeated. What a masterful way to ruin their machinations. "Uuuhhhhhhhhh.... mattfriendofsantana dot tumblr dot com!" They try to guess while they go upstairs, and sits next to the man on the sunglasses. "I don't live here! This is my super secret operation base!!" They said with pride. 
Santana rolls her eyes. But she did miss him, sometimes she wasn't interacting with him. Everytime they met again it was full of regret. "You said things you knew things. About enchantments. So c'mon be a decent fake dad a help your fave fake daugther, you bastard." 
The man in the sunglasses points at the kid like saying. 'See?' and waves at the other man that went with Santana. "Hello, sorry my daugther was raised to forget to introduce people. You can call me Julio, who are you?" He asks, and talks a little softer to Santana, in spanish. "¿Cuánto confías en él? Y no digas que no te fias de nadie, eso ya lo se, Niebla. But yeah sure, if you are a decent fake daugther and give me the information I asked you about months ago."
Matt probably shouldn't feel as satisfied as he does to have outsmarted a child. But he does, and a smile tugs on his lips as they guess the wrong username. "Wrong. I'll tell you what letter it starts with if you tell me what letter your name starts with." Matt suggests, and even though he's probably a bit too cocky at the moment, the end of the sentence turns into a question. "Operation base for what?" he asks before he can stop himself. Do teenagers tend to have these sort of things? Is this normal? It takes him a second to brush off the confusion, but when he does, the initial suspicion lingers. Is this an ambush?? 
And Santana's asking about enchantments, and he would have thought there wasn't much left inside him to be twisted up, but there is. Aether, he hopes someone is able to help her. Brownstone was months ago, and she is still dealing with this shit?He tries to stand next to Santana and look intimidating with arms crossed, but his eyes keep darting from person to person to 'secret operation base', giving away his uneasiness. 
Matt nods at Santana's 'dad', and something about the way he spoke strikes a nerve. "Eh, politeness is fuckin' overrated. I'm Matt, it's... interesting to meet you, Julio." His attention drifts when the conversation turnsinto Spanish, once again glancing around the room. He has been here for... what? Two minutes? Two hours? And he's thoroughly confused. Thoroughly. He catches the tail end of her 'dad''s sentence, and an eyebrow rises of its own accord as he glances sideways at Santana. What the fuck was going on here?
Someone is too hooked up with this. "O!" Then pouts exageratelly "I told you is super secret! But it's for super secret meetings, like this one!" They reveal anyway. "Stop talking in spanish I want to know what you guys say!!" 
Santana was annoyed, but she throws him a notebook she was carrying in ther bag (who was there the whole time). "En una escala de 0 a 10, siendo un 0 'no le diría ni mi nombre', y 10 lo que me fio de la prediccion del tiempo, un 7. Now. What do you know?" Santana can see Matt also dislikes her 'dad' from minute one like every living on Earth. "We don't respect politeness in this fucking house." She says proud. 
The man in the sunglasses smirks. "Interesting. That's pretty generous. In the 'family' we have a saying about Santana's friends. They are either naive fools she's trying to use, or people without any morals whatsoever, which one are you?" He tries to catch the notebook in the air, but he fails, and he has to crouch to get it. "Eso es un número muy alto para ti, Niebla, te fias demasiado del hombre del tiempo." He says without opening it. "I actually don't know that much about enchantments and you suspected it, so this notebook is full of lies, right? But to not get stuck in the accusations of lying like always, let's jump to the deals. I'll have to do my research and if I get something, you tell me something. Now, what's the enchantment about. I can't help much without data, you know that."
Matt starts going through all the names with O he knows in his head. As it turns out, they're not that many. Octavius. Octavia. Octopus. Fuck. A deal's a deal, though, so he begrudgingly offers his URL initial as well. "G." What kind of super secret meetings do teenagers even have? Is this the first one to be hosted here? He also wants to know what Santana and her "dad" are saying, but he refuses to agree with this kid right now. Maybe there will be time for that later. 
Discreetly, he tries to gauge what they're saying. He hears numbers. Maybe it's a secret code. The little phrase about politeness shakes him out of it, but before he can react, Julio is talking to him. Eyes narrowed, he laughs a little, and crosses his arms over his chest. This is a test of some kind, he can tell. But he's not going to fall for it. "Bit of both. I'm a naïve dumbass with shit for a moral compass." The notebook falls straight to the ground, and he bites back a laugh, trying to not get visibly frustrated when he speaks Spanish again. Is he talking about me?? It's alright though, soon enough his eyes bounce back between the two like he's watching a ping pong match. "What do you know about Enchantments? Forcing people to do shit they don't want to do?" Matt asks, arms still crossed and keeping his gaze straight.
Someone checks their phone when they heard the first clue and opens Santana's tumblr page to find a blog she rebloged starting with G. They will scroll down until They Find Matt.
Santana is already nervous just looking at Matt and her 'dad' talk, but she knew showing she cares too much about Matt won't end well and her fake father would be ven more of a dick. She doubts before giving an answer. She crosses her arms. Ah, fuck it. "Ah, you know." She shrugs. "Self-deprecating magic bullshit. To be ashamed of myself, that I'm alone, or no one will miss me, that other people think I'm just an animal and all that super fake shit that is totally not real and I don't believe for a moment." She tries to say non challant like its her grocery list. "Alright maybe I believe that but it's magic's fault!"
The man in the sunglasses laughs at Matt's answer. "This guy is fun, Mist. I hope you aren't planning to stab him." He says way too casually. "Enchantments is manipulation for inepts who don't know how to convince people without magic." He listens to Santana, quiet for a while. "Oh, you finished? Really? That's it? God damnit Mist, you believed all those things already. What a redundant and useless spell."
Matt sighs when the kid takes out their phone. This is going to go great. 
[CW: needles]
His eyes narrow at the stabbing comment. What. The. Fuck. Was that an inside joke??? Did Santana regularly stab her friends, or enough so that her "dad" asks about it. "Don't worry, I stab myself enough with needles regularly. I can handle myself." Could he though??? He's trying real hard to look completely different than how he felt, which was threatened and confused as fuck, and he doesn't know if it's working.
Focused on what Santana is saying, his guard drops for a moment. Aether, how had it been so long since Brownstone, and he had no idea this was going on? He never means to pry, to force people to talk about things they don't want to, and he's been so ridiculously focused on his own bullshit that he just didn't know the enchantment went this deep. What a fucking dick. But this isn't the place to voice that. He turns back to Santana's "dad" and crosses his arms tighter against his chest again, and ignored the pang that comes with this comment that these things weren't new. "Do you know how to help her or not?"
Santana super fake laughs and then acts super offended "Excuse me? I had never, NEVER stabbed anyone with a real knife." She might had try a lot of times, though. 'How much do you know about it, you bastard?' She was getting even more nervous and unconfortable. "Don't listen to him, Matt, he thinks he is soooo funny" She rolls her eyes, and controls herself from saying 'I would never do that to you' because it would be too much of a lie. Who knows what the future hold, right? She gets even more angry to his fake father reaction. "I guess!!! But you don't have to be a dick about it!" She answers without thinking. "Ughhhh, c'mon! You are just saying that because...because you don't know shit about getting rid of it and you just want to...aggh!!" She is too annoyed and embarrased to say a proper argument.
The man in the sunglasses keeps his confident smile on. "Is that because you take drugs or the...the sugar thing...thing" He says, snapping his fingers, like he doesn't remember the name but it's so close to get it and that would help. He groans frustrated to his bad memory. "Mist, you throw a knife to my face, don't act all hight and mighty like you are above stabbing." He says as casually as fake dad could talk to his fake daughter about something as not washing the dishes. He calmly stares at Santana while she gets progresivelly more annoyed. "I told you it's like manipulation. Just manipulate yourself back goddamnit. Where is your manipulative liar pride? You are terrible at it, but also you believe a lot of crap, so it could work."
Matt is really doing his best to not freak out about the whole 'does Santana plan to stab me' thing, and he knows he's being irrational--oh. The aura. Times three, probably. He tries to push it down, and quirks a smile at Julio. "Testosterone," he says simply. Still... there have been knives thrown before, it seems, but he'll ask her about this afterwards. Aether, this experience has been fun already. He laughs awkwardly before he clears his throat and laughs again, still falsely, but more sarcastically. "Hilarious," he comments. 
Matt knows everyone has their insecurities, but today has really been a wake-up call, and he's growing steadily more annoyed at Julio, and worried about Santana, until he offers them a solution. Manipulate yourself back? Admittedly, that seemed like the wrong approach to take about getting herself to believe she wasn't an animal, or alone. But maybe Leah could help with that. "She's a fucking great manipulative liar," he defends her, and the words come tumbling out of him before he can stop them. "Is there anything else you know?" Matt asks.
Santana shrugs, still very annoyed and angry at everything. "But you dodged it! Geez old man, get over it. You deserved it. And stop asking Matt questions!" She frows even more at the useless advice. "That's bullshit. It's like an illusion. I could make a deal everyday so you had a noisy fly flying in front of your face forever. You can try to ignore it, even if you know it's not real, but it's still there." She doesn't know how to feel about Matt's defense. "Yeah!" 
The man in the sunglasses snaps his fingers when Matt's says testosterone. "Insulin! Oh, it's not that." He says first proud and then dissapointed. The kid stops staring at their phone to complain. "Daaaad, I explain it to you!" and the man makes shushs sounds so they shut up. "Mist that's hurtful, I'm hurt. And someday, someone won't dodge your knives, and they would be no one to stop you. " Beats. "That sounded too optimist." He laughs at Matt saying Santana is any good at manipulation. "If she was, you wouldn't know. But you know because she is not subtle at all. I love you, Mist, but you are terrible." He raises his eyebrows to Santana's explanation. "You should have started by that! Then you know how to deal with illusions, I already teach you half of what I know!"
Someone whose name starts with O grins. "Found it~! Oh! You're a doppel!! I have some theories about doppels."
Matt, without thinking it over, blurts out: "or she might stop throwing knives at people." There are many ways to stab someone. In their back. Looking right at them. Having someone else throw the knife. With a hidden contraption. Still, he cringes at his own completely useless addition and gives Julio a look like he just owned him. Which he knows he didn't. What the fuck is he even trying to do here. Maybe he should just let Santana talk. "That's not necessarily true," he says, immediately contradicting his decision to let Santana do the talking. "You can realize after you've been manipulated how much they fucked you over." He shrugs. 
He narrows his eyes at Santana's example about the fly, and he thinks about it for a moment. "But maybe he can convince you to stop making the deal." Get to the root of the problem. He ignores Julio's comments about illusions. Santana's at least half the reason he's even attempted to work on his illusion magic. Blaine's like 15%. The rest is just he really likes learning. 
Looking at the kid, he lifts his chin. "What did you explain to him?" Matt asks, just as Julio shushes them. A sigh leaves him before he can stop it when they find him online and immediately put their foot in their mouth. "Theories? About doppels?" An eyebrow is high in his forehead, and his arms remain crossed against his chest.
Santana is actually a little happy Matt is there and not only full of regret. "Yeah! Thanks, Matt" She stops to look at him. "Wait, what do you mean?" Hey, nice, actually they are discussing solutions and brainstorming. Who had though, talking things with people actually helped? "In this case, stop doing the deal would MAYBE had been getting rid of that bastard's magic. But SOMEONE" Marley. "Didn't want to testify for it.Yes I'm talking about you know how." She says Marley with her mouth in case Matt doesn't get it, but with no sound. "It's Marley I'm blaming Marley. And the entire  judicial system but mostly Marley."
The man in the sunglasses continues his theory.  "You know what to do agaisnt an illusion, Santana. Look out for the truth." His phone sounds, he checks it,  an shush the kid again,  "Don't waste time, we have to go now, Mist. I'll ask around to make your work easier, and you give the fucking information, alright?" 
Someone whose name starts with O knows they don't have much time. Their theories won't be stopped. "Everyone thinks doppels come from witches but WHAT IF" They say, very exagerately and dramatic. "Doppels are actually the tricksters who get to become human."
Gears are turning in Matt's head, and he points at Santana as he processes the information. "No--I don't mean Fuchs's magic," he says, as his attention remains on trying to hypothetically solve the enchantment problem. "Although I have no fucking clue why Marley wouldn't get her ass to court to testify," he says offhandedly, only sounding mildly annoyed. "I'm saying we get to the source of the problem. The source of your beliefs. And work from there." Shrugging, he speaks towards the ground for a moment. "Maybe we don't get rid of the deal at first. Maybe some days the fly is quiet. Maybe some days it just lays there. Maybe it buzzes without being able to see it. But we take steps."
Look out for the truth. Manipulate yourself back. Santana says Julio doesn't know enchantments, but Matt's starting to think he knows enough, at least, for them to make some progress. "Leaving so soon?" he asks, like he was really enjoying their company. 
Matt is straight-up rendered speechless when O-kid shares their theory, at least for a series of seconds that stretch long. If tricksters became human, would they have memories? Would they arise as doppels do? "Where would we get the memories of our past lives, then?" He asks, trying to one-up some kid, like an adult is supposed to do. "I'm pretty sure doppels are just doppels. Tricksters who become human are humans who used to be tricksters?" The first sentence is pretty confident, but the second sounds just about as unsure as he feels right now.
Santana groans "Because her problems are more important than everyone's else." But she rather focus on solutions now. "Ugh, Matt, the source is the entire world and systematic racism. This is not a thing we can change from the source. We are looking for realistic, magical solutions here" She listens to how Matt follows her fly metaphor. She doesn't agree, she just wants to kill the bug forever. Her fake dad was going to leave, anyway. "Alright, alright, I'll give you your shit info, but you better do something because I'm just going to give you as muchinformation as you give me. You have to go? Oh my God, please, tell me is not because there is some dangerous person coming here trying to kill you out of revenge for some fucked up thing you did to them." She stops for a moment. "It's Darling?" She is so annoyed at the kid. "If there wasn't like, proofs or evidence of doppels coming from witches, yeah, suuuure." Santana rolls her eyes to Matt outright lying to the kid. You don't even think you are human, Matt, don't say tricksters are now
Someone  whose name starts with O doesn't want to leave yet. "From the life as a trickster, of course! But doppels comes from someone else." The kid laughs at Matt question. "Hahahaha you have no idea, don't you?"
 The man in the sunglasses text someone, then throws the phone to the ground and breaks it. "You know it." He says with a smile and he could talk in spanish, but it would be easier to talk on a way only Santana would get. "But no, do you remember Clown and Mirror? Medieval fair, 2014.  This is like that time before Nails tried to throw a goat to Doorframe combined with that time Darling and Tibula were betting our lifes on a game of jenga at the aquarium." 
Santana hears that totally understanding the gravity of the situation and grabs Matt's arm. "Matt we have to go."
Matt scoffs. "A lot of shit is product of systemic oppression, and it doesn't mean you can't work on it. " He's pretty proud of his idea and his metaphors, alright? Besides, life already seems pretty bleak without adding 'no way to combat self-loathing thoughts instilled on you by systemic racism'. He's not about to add an extra layer of bleakness on purpose. "Maybe there's no magic solution. At least not without using more enchantments." 
"I'm almost sure that's not true," he tells the kid. "There's some pretty witchy memories in there. But it's not like that shit's gonna stop you from making up theories like that in your head. So whatever." Jesus, he's like the teenager here now. But he's annoyed. Sure, he has no idea, but do they have to point it out like that??
He goes to continue to argue--he's not even sure about what, but that seems to be what he's doing today--when it seems like things start moving real fast, real suddenly. His head jerks one way, and then the other, and his heart drums in his chest when tension seems to rise out of nowhere and Santana grabs his arm. "Wh--what? Sure. Sure, let's go." Glancing back towards Julio and the kid, he waves half-heartedly. "Nice... to meet you?"
Santana frows. There is has to be a magic solution. Bitch don't say that bullshit but instead she just makes complaining noises about it. She waves goodbye "Die a painful dead." Santana says, with a friendly tone. "I love you too!" his 'dad' answers. Oliver just says bye very enthusiastically.
She brings Matt outside, almost dragging him by the arm until they are out the flat. And then until they are far away from the flat. "Oh man, uuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I fucking hate him so much!" She complains, angry. "Sorry I dragged you into this. But..." She calms herself a bit. "But it really helped me. I think."
Matt waves goodbye to everyone in a confused daze as he's pulled away, partly by his own feet and partly by Santana. He's so confused by the circumstances, but he doesn't say anything while Santana complains. He just pats her on the arm while glancing over the direction they'd come from. 
His muscles relax when Santana says it had helped her. "Did it? You seemed sort of skeptical about it." His teeth worries his lip for a moment. "I told you before that I would help you with this, and I haven't been doing great at that, but whatever you think of for this shit, I'm in."
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Text
In My Dreams
Requested by an anon on @seizethebens ‘ blog a few days ago. 
Anonymous asked:  Race x reader soulmate AU? (The one where you can communicate through dreams)
Tag List (to be tagged in future fics just reply to this post and I’ll add you!):
@seize-the-davey @spot--conlon @ben-cook-can-cook
~~
You first learned about soulmate dreams when you were six years old. That's the first time you had one. A blond boy, no older than you, was fighting a dragon.
You dreamed some armor and fought it with him. When the dragon was defeated, the boy turned to you and bowed. “Never before have I seen a lady fight so well before.”
You woke up smiling.
Every time since then, the boy (Race, his name was) would appear in your dream and go alongside you. You helped each other through nightmares, and laughed through the good ones.
But your favourite dreams where the ones when the two of you just talked in a field. And when you drifted off and that scene greeted you, you smiled.
You wandered around for awhile, waiting for Race to go to sleep and join you. Finally, he did.
“Hey, you,” you greeted.
Race waved. “Hi.”
“What took you so long?” you asked, pulling up a blue flower and tucking it behind his ear.
Race shrugged. “I’m real nervous for tomorrow.”
You smiled. “You’ll be fine. And I guarantee you’ll find some friends that are just as good, if not better than your Brooklyn friends.”
Race smiled and held your hand where it rested on his cheek. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“So what do you want to do tonight?” he asked.
You shrugged. “We could continue the racing dream from a few weeks ago.”
The track materialized around you as Race raced off on a brown mare.
~~
The next day, your school was abuzz with news of a new kid. Sarah was the one to finally tell you about him.
“He’s short, and one of the teachers cussed him out for smoking his vape in class. Davey says his stress levels rose 30% in one class period alone.” She smacked her bubble gum.
You rolled your eyes. “Davey’s stress levels are always fluctuating, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Plus, his name is super weird. His real name is Antony, but I don’t he had a weird nickname.” Sarah thought for a moment before she shook her head. “I don’t remember. Maybe it's a gang name from one of those Brooklyn groups.”
You shrugged. “Maybe. Tell everyone hi, and that I’ll see them at auditions. Go to lunch, you don’t wanna be late.”
Sarah sighed, dramatically peeling herself from the lockers as though she couldn’t bare to be dragged away from you. “Fine. And don’t worry about those, Charity loves you. You’re sure to get a good part.”
“Maybe. We’ll wait ‘til the cast list is put up.”
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but people were still talking about the new kid.
“I heard he got ISS,” one kid muttered.
“I heard he was caught making out with his girlfriend in the janitor’s closet,” another answered.
“He’s an asshole,” Davey said as he plopped into the seat beside you in the theatre. “He almost beats Jack for how much of an asshole he is.”
“Davey, you love Jack.”
“I also love you, doesn’t mean you cease to get on my nerves.”
You gasped. “Davey? You love me? I wasn’t expecting this so soon in our relationship!”
Davey shoved you. “Shut up.”
The two of you sat quietly for awhile, making note of everytime the door slammed open or shut behind you. Soon the rest of your friend group was gathered around you, Jack and Katherine behind you, Crutchie with his walkie-talkie standing next to you waiting for auditions to start, and Blink and Mush playing chopsticks in the floor. The theatre was alive with noise until the director, Charity, stood and commanded silence from the room.
Auditions started soon after, groups of people being led away to practice for a moment before doing a cold read of the script. By the time it was over you were pretty confident you’d done well, but the parts wouldn’t be announced for at least a week.
~~
Callbacks were Wednesday, and the cast list was posted Monday. You scanned the list anxiously, starting from the bottom. Your eyes finally landed on the top and you squealed so loudly half the hallway stopped to look at you. You had landed the role of Katherine!
Speaking of the devil, your friend rounded the corner at the same time and gave you a weird look.
“I got the part!” you yelled.
Katherine clapped her hands before running over and hugging you. “Congrats, (Y/N)!” She let go of you and moved back a bit. “Who got Jack?”
You looked back at the list. “Some kid named Antony?”
“Ah, the new kid,” Katherine nodded. “Good luck with that.”
“He could be a terrific actor!” you defended.
Katherine rolled her eyes. “Sure. We’ll see.”
You looked at the bottom of the sheet again and saw that rehearsals were starting in ten minutes and you still had to get all the way across campus to the theatre. You bid Katherine goodbye before taking off down the hallway at a fast walk.
You made it to the theatre with a minute to spare and slid into your seat beside Davey. Jack was sitting on the other side, regaling the boys with his latest exploits that had landed him in detention.
Charity walked up onstage and began rehearsal, giving out a few guidelines. Everyone listened, even the seniors who’d been doing this for years.
“Now, if I could have my leads stand and come on stage. I’d like Jack and Katherine to come up here please.”
You stood at the same time as Jack. The theatre laughed, and Charity glared playfully at Jack before telling him to sit down. He grinned and complied.
You and another boy walked to opposite sides of the stage and ascended at the same time. You glanced up at him and immediately stopped.
It was Race. Your Race.
Your mouth fell open as you looked at him. You were frozen in your spot, staring at your soulmate. He gave you a tight lipped smile before turning his attention back to the director. You however, could not take your eyes off of him.
“(Y/N)?” Charity snapped her fingers. “You with us, darling?”
You shook out of your thoughts and looked at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, distracted is all.”
Charity nodded. “Well, you better get your head on straight, we don’t have time for distractions.”
You nodded. She called for the first scene, where Race as Jack and Davey as Crutchie would be on the rooftop, singing about how much they hate New York.
You sat back in the audience, next to Crutchie. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing Newsies, and not one of us got the character we’re named after.”
“I supposed it was a little much to hope for,” you said distractedly.
Crutchie turned to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”
You nodded. “Fine. Just thought I saw something.”
As soon as rehearsal was over you tried to track Race down, but he disappeared. Resigned you went out to your car, knowing that if nothing else you’d see him when you fell asleep.
But you didn’t. He wasn’t there when you were asleep. He wasn’t there the next day either, the two of you didn’t share any classes, and he always ran away right after your rehearsal. It seemed he was ignoring you.
Every scene that featured Jack and Katherine was stilted and awkward as you poured your heart into your part and Race tried to act while shrugging away from you. Charity asked every time why Race was acting so awkward, and everytime he just shrugged.
You sat in the theatre next to Jack, watching Race and Davey on the rooftop for probably the twentieth time that week. Race was acting awkward again, being almost afraid to touch Davey.
“I don’t really like the energy of this,” Jack whispered to you. “Race is acting like he hates touching Davey.”
You shrugged. “Maybe it’s just cause he’s new here.”
The two of you sat in silence for a little longer, and then you turned to face Jack. “How close are you and Race?”
Jack shrugged, not looking away from the stage. “Dunno. Why’re you asking?”
“Would it be weird if you had him over to the house?” you asked.
Jack turned to look at you. “Not really. Why?”
You ignored the question. “Could you have him over this weekend?”
“(Y/N), what is this about?” Jack asked. “Why the sudden interest in Race?”
You shrugged. “No reason.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“He’s been avoiding me, ok?!” you exploded. Two girls in the front row looked back at you, and you smiled sheepishly in apology before turning back to Jack. “I haven’t seen him in rehearsals, and you’ve seen how awkward that is, and he’s not been in my dreams-”
“Dreams?” Jack cut you off. “What do-?” A look of recognition dawned on his face. “Race is your soulmate!” he said. The two girls turned to look at you again.
“SHHH!” you put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say it too loudly!”
Jack smirked at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Sure, I’ll have Race over after school Friday. Pop by any time.”
“Thanks, Jack,” you said, bumping his shoulder with your head.
~~
Friday at exactly 4:12pm, you stood on the porch of Jack’s house. You psyched yourself up before ringing the doorbell.
“Who’s that?” Race’s muffled voice asked.
“Dunno,” Jack replied. “Can you go check that?”
Race started grumbling, but you heard his footsteps stalking towards the door. The doorknob twisted. Suddenly the door was opened and Race’s blue eyes met your own.
His eyes grew large in surprised before he let out a quick “NOPE!” and shut the door in your face.
You immediately began to knock on the door. “RACETRACK! YOU LET ME IN RIGHT NOW!”
“NO!” he shouted back.
“WE NEED TO TALK,” you shouted, still pounding. “YOU CAN’T IGNORE THIS FOREVER!”
“WATCH ME,” he replied.
“JACK,” you called, “TELL HIM TO LET ME IN!”
“LET HER IN, RACER!” he said.
Slowly the door opened until you could see Race again.
“Hello,” you said.
He merely stepped back so you could walk through the door.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Jack said, plopping onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn. “What brings you here?”
“Nothin’ much,” you responded. “Hey, didn’t Ms. Medda say she needed you to do something this afternoon?” You hoped he’d get the message.
It seemed he didn’t, as his forehead creased in confusion. “Umm, I don’t think so?”
“Yeah, she wanted you to get something from the store,” you said in a harder tone. You flicked your head to the doorway as if to say, get out.
Understanding blossomed on his face. “Oh! Right! That thing! Hey, Racer, I gotta go get something for Medda, be a dear and entertain (Y/N) ‘til I get back, won’t you?” He stood, passed Race the popcorn and then walked out the door.
“Wait, Jack, I-”
“Use protection!” Jack shouted, the door slamming after him.
Race looked at the door, then down to the popcorn, then back to you. He sat down on the couch and curled up onto his side. “What do you want?” he hissed.
“To talk to you!” You plopped on a chair across from him. “What’s wrong, Race?”
He mumbled something into the couch cushion.
“What?” you asked.
“I said, ‘why don’t you tell me?’” he exploded, sitting up and facing you.
You were a little taken aback by the sudden fury. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Race! That’s why I came to talk to you!”
He rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with me.” He turned back into the couch.
“Yeah, that’s true,” you scoffed. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks! You haven’t said a word to me outside of rehearsal, and heaven knows those are stilted and awkward, and you haven’t been sleeping either!” you said, your voice definitely louder than normal. “I don’t understand, Race, did I do something?”
Race was silent.
You ran your hand through your hair as you stood and began pacing. “I thought I’d be happy when I met my soulmate! Not feeling like I did something wrong.”
“You and me both,” Race muttered angrily.
You stopped and stared at him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“RACE!”
Race stood up and marched until he was a few inches away from you. “Why don’t you go ask Davey, huh?!”
“Davey?” you asked incredulously. “What does Davey have to do with anything?”
“Well, he’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?!”
Your eyebrows drew up in confusion. “No.”
Race looked at you. “No?”
“No,” you replied.
“But, but,” he stuttered. “The day of auditions! He said he loved you and you said something about a relationship and then you two cuddled up to each other!”
You stared at Race. “He meant as friends. He’s dating a girl named Rose that's from Alabama. They met over the internet.”
All the anger flooded from Race’s expression. “Oh.”
You placed a hand on his arm. “Have you not noticed how overly affectionate our friend group is?” you asked honestly. “We call each other babe all the time, Crutchie and Katherine are constantly sitting in someone's lap, and Spot smacked Blink’s ass just the other week!”
He smiled sheepishly. “So you're not dating anyone?”
You shook your head no. “I was waiting on you to come along.”
He smiled at you, and you smiled back. Finally, you were in each other’s arms.
~~
When the two of you walked hand and hand into rehearsals on Monday there was a lot of wolf-whistles, especially from Jack. Race laughed as you flipped them off.
Charity sighed loudly. “Finally, you two got your mess together! Maybe now we can have some Jack and Katherine action that actually makes me think they're in love!”
Everyone laughed as you moved to your seats in the auditorium. Charity called for the Davey, Les and Jack scene, and unfortunately your wonderful boyfriend was taken from your arms.
Jack put a hand over his eyes. “Hey, where's Spot? I can't see him, ain't he the one playing Les?”
“Screw you, Kelly,” he muttered. “I'll strangle you.”
Jack smirked down at Spot. “I don't think you're tall enough.”
Race placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. “Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Run.”
Jack turned to see Spot angrily stalking up the stairs towards him. He let out a soft “oh shit” before leaping from the stage and running out the back of the auditorium.
Charity looked at Spot. “Go find him and tell him you won't beat him up and that he needs to be in here.”
Spot nodded before leaping from the stage as well. “BABE! COME BACK! I GOTTA KICK YOUR ASS!”
Charity rolled her eyes. “(Y/N), come up here, we’ll do the scene right before Something to Believe In while they solve their differences.”
You nodded and climbed the stage, scampering onto the railing that represented Jack’s penthouse.
“Start point?” Race called.
“Umm, If you were a boy you'd be talking with a fist in your mouth.”
Race glared at you. You glared back. “If you were a boy, you'd be talking with a fist in your mouth!”
You stalked up to him ‘til your noses were practically touching. “And if I were a boy you'd be looking at me through one swolen eye!”
Race grabbed your fist, jamming it under his chin.  “Oh yeah? Well don't let that stop you, eh?! Give it your best shot!”
You froze for a second before grabbing his cheeks and pressing your lips together. You sagged into the kiss as Race's arms circled around your waist tenderly. He moved his lips against yours and you hurriedly returned the favour.
His arms tightened and you gasped a little. He used this to his advantage, pressing his tongue against yours. You gasped again, one hand knocking off his hat as it threaded through his sandy locks.
You became vaguely aware of cheers and whistles as the two of you broke apart.
“Wow,” you whispered, arms loose around his shoulders.
“Wow,” he agreed.
“WOO BOY, GETCHA SOME!” Jack yelled.
You both turned bright red and looked down at your friends and castmates, who were all in various states of cheering.
“Not bad for a first kiss, eh?” Race whispered into your ear.
“Not bad at all,” you agreed.
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