#the dream team

ccyans:

The under-utilization of the Magic Kaito quartet in DCMK fanfiction saddens me. They have suchamazing potential, like, there’s a genius detective with powerful connections in the police force, one of the world’s flashiest and most renowned thieves (also a disguise master), an exponentially powerful sorceress, and possibly the only person who can sit the former three down for club activities without inciting a riot. Slam them together and launch them into the path of fighting crime – they’ll be SPECTACULAR. (And hilarious, but that goes without saying.) It’ll be like teenage Leverage but against Murderous Syndicates. Canon’s already given a great foundation for these dumbasses; they’re in the same class; the bonding interactions JUST MAKE THEMSELVES. So why can I only find like 1.5 fics with anything near this premise????? Tragiqueeeee.

I want them to be friends in a bickering, vaguely antagonistic sort of way,  but with the additional undertone of: “if you mess with them I will track you down and ruin your life.” The former is canon and also pretty much the only way I can see their dynamic going, factoring in Kaito, Akako and Hakuba’s respective and competing egos, their night-jobs on opposite sides of the Law, and their differing priorities and moralities –thus why Aoko is so important as peace-keeper. The latter isalreadyAoko and Kaito’s canonical relationship. And Akako and Kaito’s even, though its slightly one sided. And Fanon-wise Hakuba and Kaito are perpetually played in this light, so I’m not sure why we can’t just go the full circle and make these four be A Squad, pretty much ALL the foundations have already been set, just not explored. 

Like, there’s only 2 really major issues/secrets that need to be cleared up.

1. Kaito is Kaito kid. This is BARELY a secret. Akako knows it for sure. Hakuba knows it but hasn’t managed to pry the confession from Kaito’s throat. Aoko knew it but Kaito tricked her into rescinding her extremely accurate suspicion. (Through a plan that was like 30% improv and 30% luck to boot, I love how the DC side of things sees Kaitou as this hyper-competent always suave gentleman when in reality he’s the greatest of teenage disasters).

2. Akako’s magic. Also not really secret. Kaito knows it. Akako isn’t exactly hiding it. She uses it in so much mundane stuff. “That broomstick ain’t flyng by jet propulsion, Hakuba,” is still the perfectest line I will ever write for this fandom in my notes. 

So after issues 1 and 2 have been aired–(1 is mainly a Aoko-Kaito conflict because Kaito will deny he’s actually Kid to Hakuba and Akako ‘till his dying day, even when they already know. Meanwhile 2 is mainly a Hakuba-internal conflict because magic)–we’re SET. Although to facilitate/ speed up said conflict resolution there’s probably going to be an: oops we’re GETTING SHOT IN THE MIDDLE OF A KID HEIST situation. It’ll force Hakuba to take Akako’s magic seriously when he’s still on a ??? wavering line of confusion and SCIENCE??? (Akako is going to be the BIGGEST BAMF, pry this theory from my cold dead hands); meanwhile in the aftermath someone’s going to throw the Kid-is-Kaitou theory down for Aoko if they haven’t already. 

(Although Aoko’ll probably figure it out earlier. The first thing she’ll think of once Akako’s more impressive magic is revealed is: KAITO USED REAL MAGIC TO PULL THE DUPE HE’S KID. Kaito will deny it and deny it until he can’t.)

….And then I can have my leverage-esque dream squad of dumb bickering kids complete with slice-of-life high-school shenanigans and detective work and heists and witchcraft. 

lizznotliz:

There is something about that short rest on the bus that just… I don’t know. The image of it all slays me. These heroes of New York, hopping on a city bus after saving time and space, Kingston staying up front so his Vox Populi aura means they all get on for free. The bus reroutes, as all NYC buses do, toward Kingston’s destination. This bus? It’s a northbound bus now. They are all covered in blood and raw umbra, they are exhausted and beaten and triumphant. Esther and Ricky are practically sitting on top of each other, wrapped up in themselves and their announcement; Esther is feeding him almonds and wiping blood off his face with the sleeve of her sweater, and Ricky’s arms are wrapped around her so, so tight. Sofia and Dale are sitting right behind them, looking much the same. No one can remember the last time Sofia smiled like that; have any of them ever seen her smile like that? Cody is recounting his new deal with Lucifer and JJ is babbling about casting Magic Missile and Pete is listening to them both, looking back and forth between them like he’s following a tennis match as he munches on kettle chips. Rowan is reciting Shakespeare and they cheer her on with mouths full of food from La Gran Gata, feeling her bardic magic take hold, bolstering them. The closer they get to the hoard, the more the egg vibrates and hums in his bag, and Kingston feels more connected to it than ever. This is his city, and this is his child, and they have already done the impossible today. These people are going to make dreams come true. Kingston finishes the last sip of his coffee, slides his phone out of his pocket, and texts Liz: Hey, pick up a bottle of champagne. I think we’re gonna have something to celebrate tonight.

summary: “i’m not stalking you, exactly, it’s just that you accidentally put my sketchbook in your bag and i’m waiting for a good moment to steal it back before you see the drawings of you i did in it.” based on thispost.

pairing:renjun x reader

genre:high school! au

Renjun thumbed through the pages of his sketchbook, flipping through various sketches of you until he arrived at a blank page. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he gnawed at his lip in concentration as dark streaks started to appear on the pages. His hand flowed across the page, the rough outline of you starting to take shape. He continued on, looking up from his hunched position once in a while for reference even though he had drew you so many times by this point. The morning light streaming through the classroom window was hitting you perfectly, your hair framing your face in a way that made Renjun’s heart beat just a little bit faster. His cheeks pinked slightly, wondering what it would be like to run his hands through them -

“Renjun!” He startled, breaking out of his thoughts. Renjun’s wide eyes met his teacher’s by the board, raising an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner, “Would you bother explaining the differences between an oligotrophic, mesotrophic and eutrophic lake, please?”

“U-Uh…” he straightened in his chair, shifting the notebook closer to his body as he squinted at the whiteboard, “An oligotrophic lake has low nutrient concentration and organism growth, a eutrophic lake has high nutrient concentration and organism growth while mesotrophic lakes fall in the middle?”

“Correct,” his teacher narrowed her eyes, “Even though you may understand the material, Renjun, it would be beneficial if you kept your focus during classtime. Now sit with your partners, everyone – we’ll spend the rest of the time discussing our project.”

Renjun sighed in relief. His back slumped once more before he locked eyes with you from the other side of the classroom. You had stood up, grabbing your books and bags before making your way to him. He blushed in embarrassment, remembering that he had just zoned out in front of you, his partner and longtime crush.

“Morning!” You slid into the seat next to him, a bright smile on your face despite the early hours of the day. He slammed his sketchbook shut, hiding it behind the messy pile of papers and books strewn about on his desk before giving you a shy smile back.

“You’re cheery today,” he commented, toying with the corners of his biology notebook. You shrugged.

“Woke up on the right side of bed, I guess. I have a feeling something good’s going to happen today,” you turned to face him, “So, how are we going to make this self-sustaining terrarium?”

The class whizzed by, the both of you caught up in talking about the project. Papers were scribbled on and discarded, ideas crossed out and jotted down. The supposedly boring class of biology became more exciting as the both of you joked around and debated, planning on times to work on the project and who was going to keep and look after it. He couldn’t stop staring at you at times, a faint pink blush on his cheeks and a stupid smile on his face. Sure, he had drawn you a few times and more than his fair share of decent conversations, but the thought of being this close with you for the rest of the semester sent his heart fluttering a tad bit faster.

Before you knew it, the bell rung. Students were already packing their bags, ignoring the teacher up front reminding them of the project’s due date. Renjun himself was in no rush to stand up, wrapping up the conversation he had with you.

“What class do you have next, (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Oh, algebra,” you shrugged, before freezing, eyes wide in shock, “Oh,algebra! The test!”

You sprang out of your seat, hurriedly shoving all your papers inside and grabbing all your books. Renjun watched with an amused eye as you waved goodbye at him, rushing out of class in order to spare a few minutes of studying. He looked down to his lap, biting his lip as he remembered the easy flow of conversation you two shared and how there were going to be more to come. One thing was for sure – biology was quickly turning to be his favorite subject.

Renjun sighed, head resting against his propped elbow. His hand cupped his cheek, right hand absentmindedly doodling a sleeping moomin on the pages of his book. His chemistry teacher ranted on about acids and bases, but it seemed like his brain had just upped and left, taking his interest in the subject with it. Jaemin sat next to him, looking at the teacher simply because he didn’t have anything else to stare at while twirling his pen absentmindedly in his hand. Struck with a sudden urge to draw you, he reached down to his bag and rifled around for the familiar leather cover of his sketchbook, failing to find it for the first time.

He straightened in his seat. Leaning fully to the side, he started searching for it with both hands. He took out all of his notebooks and large objects, staring at the now empty bag with shocked eyes and a panic-frenzied heart. No, no – this sort of thing only happens in movies, right? He groaned out loud (earning a few startled looks from his classmates) and let his body flop, banging his head against the table as he buried in in his arms. The one thing you weren’t supposed to see (ever) was now in your possession, tucked snugly in your backpack.

Something poked his arm. Renjun let out another small moan, wordlessly letting his arms drop uselessly to his sides as he turned his head to face a worried-looking Jaemin. He stopped poking the older with his pen, pulling it away from his arm and tapping it against the table unconsciously.

“You okay, bro?” Renjun closed his eyes and whined, burying his face in his arms once more before abruptly straightening and throwing his head back. He mussed his hair up in frustration.

“She has my sketchbook,” Jaemin’s brows only furrowed deeper, “The black one. She has it.”

“And?”

“You don’t understand, Jaemin,” he put both hands on the boy’s shoulders, shaking him, “She has my sketchbook. I’m going to die.”

Jaemin’s lip formed an ‘o’ of understanding. Renjun bemoaned his fate, glancing at the wall clock. Seven more minutes until class ends – it was too late to ask for a bathroom slip now. He would just have to wait until the bell rung before he had any chances of getting his precious sketchbook back. That was all Renjun had to do; wait.

Renjun couldn’t wait. He had zero patience at all, if any, which explained why it was his third time in the hallway right now when they were barely half an hour into class. His bathroom pass was slung over his neck like the picture of a model student, and he walked extremely slowly to the bathroom on the other side of the building, making sure to slow down even more when he passed by the physics classroom.

He spotted your figure, heart feeling a little lighter when he saw you diligent in your own work instead of rifling through his sketchbook. Of course, that was what you had been doing this whole time. His eyes zeroed in on your backpack, unzipped and filled to the brim with books and papers. He sighed in relief. At least with the amount of stuff piled in there, the chances of you actually noticing his sketchbook were slimmer than ever.

Instead, he focused on the way you looked up and down from the board to your work, biting your lip in concentration as you pondered over calculations. He was entranced with the way your hand scribbled across the page, listening to the teacher explain the workings of a rollercoaster intently. He was confused over how you sent his heart skipping a beat over doing normal, mundane things; tasks you probably didn’t even think twice about doing. He stopped questioning it a long time ago, instead letting his feelings flow through lead to paper.

You looked up from your book, eyes catching his in a heartbeat. You lit up, sending him a small, discreet wave. He stiffened, cheeks flushing like a deer caught in headlights. Shyly, he brought his own hand up in greeting, his awkwardness earning him a small laugh from you.

He saw you stop abruptly, looking up before bowing your head in shame and readjusting yourself in your seat. Confused, he looked up himself to see the angry face of the physics teacher, glaring daggers at him through the glass window of the door. Renjun gulped, taking a step back before spinning on his heel and turning tail out of there before the teacher could storm out and give him the scolding of his life.

His cheeks were still tinted a deep red by the time he reached his language arts class, both from the embarrassment of being caught by the teacher and the giddiness of being noticed by you. He bowed to the teacher mindlessly as he entered, putting his bathroom pass on the door handle. She eyed him with a concerned look on her face.

“You took long, Renjun – If you have diarrhea, don’t hesitate to go to the nurse’s office, okay?”

From the back of the class, he swore he heard Donghyuck cackle.

“Woah! You have a Snorlax!” Jisung snatched Chenle’s 3DS from his hands, the older whining in protest. The maknae tinkered around with it, hunching to the side and ignoring the arms of the 2001 liner around his body in an attempt to grab it back, “That’s so cool!”

“Yah, Jisung Park, give that back,” Chenle complained. Jisung ignored him, far too invested in the pokemon.

Renjun ignored their antics, pushing his food around with his fork. His knee hopped up and down restlessly, appetite gone as he pictured you flipping through the pages of his sketchbook and the drawings of you that decorated them. The rest of the Dreamies were fooling around; Mark was ignoring the small pellets of food Donghyuck sent flying from his tray, Jeno and Jaemin were conversing about their biology project while Chenle and Jisung were shoving each other playfully in their fight to obtain the 3DS. He craned his neck slightly and looked around the cafeteria, hoping to spot you eating or in line for food instead of looking through his precious sketchbook. You were nowhere to be found, though. He huffed out an irritated sigh.

“You okay, Renjun?” Mark glanced at him, brows furrowing with worry, “You’ve been acting kind of… weird. Jittery. Nervous. You get my point.”

Donghyuck snorted, “He has diarrhea.”

“Is that true?” The eldest’s eyes widened, “You should head back to the dorms, dude. Taeyong hyung just stocked up on our medicine-“

“I don’t have diarrhea,” Renjun cut in, sending a dirty glance at the troublemaker, “And I’m not heading back. I have some important stuff to do.”

“Like stalking (Y/N)?”

Mark’s head whipped around to face the younger, bewildered, “You’ve been stalking (Y/N)? Renjun-”

“I haven’t been stalking anybody! Mark, why are you believing everything Donghyuck says?” He let his body flop onto Jeno’s side, “She took my sketchbook and I need to get it back! This is a tragedy - I’m never going to live this down.”

“The one with all your drawings of her in it?” Chenle questioned, managing to wrangle his 3DS from the bluenette’s hands. Renjun rubbed a hand over his face, wanting nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“That one.”

The eldest winced, “That’s harsh, dude. What are you going to do about it?”

“Just ask for it back, Junnie,” Jaemin commented, swiping a french fry from Jeno’s tray and popping it in his mouth, “Easy peasy.”

“Because everyone’s good at confrontation like you, Jaemin,” he stated, “I can barely hold a decent conversation without wanting the earth to swallow me up whole.”

“The solution’s pretty simple, then,” Jisung cut in, “Snag it the moment she leaves her bag alone.”

“That could work,” Jeno supplied, frowning all the while, “But I’m not sure-“

“Thatcouldwork! Jisung, you’re an angel!” With that, Renjun stood up and grabbed his tray, “I’m going to be home late. Go back to the dorms first without me.”

He was about to turn around and leave, but the sound of Mark calling out his name stopped him.

“Yes?”

“You don’t really have diarrhea, right?”

Donghyuck let out another loud cackle.

Renjun hid in the staircase beside the art room, waiting until the moment you would pass by. He knew you spent your time after school in that room, so he specifically chose to camp outside it and wait until you would go outside before taking his sketchbook. He’d been tailing you the entire day, walking behind you in the small, five-minute margins between classes to make sure you didn’t see any of his drawings. He also made sure to pass by your classes, only to see you diligent in your work most of the time.

Granted, there were a couple of close calls, but he made sure to hide between lockers or behind some pillars. It was a miracle you hadn’t even caught on yet – and he thought he was slow. Nervously, he pressed his phone’s home button, the digital analog showing the numbers 16:21. You would be here soon, probably. Unseemly thoughts swirled in his head; what if you needed to go home early? What if you didn’t go to the bathroom at all today? What if you had already rifled through his sketchbook and decided to head home to ponder how to reject him as harshly as possible or wonder about how much of a creep he was?

All of the thoughts in his head dispersed once he spotted you walking down the stairs, talking animatedly to one of your friends. He ducked down to avoid being seen by you, but kept it raised just enough to watch your moves. You waved goodbye to your friend, parting ways with a cheery goodbye. Renjun ducked his head down further. You were in high spirits; mouth upturned in a pleasant smile, steps light as you entered the art room. Carefully, Renjun made his way down the staircase and situated himself beside the lockers. His fingers gripped the small ledge of the wall, pulling himself up to peer through the windows.

You had put your backpack down on the table, stretching with your arms high above your head. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, spending a good minute standing beside the table staring at your screen. Just as he felt like you weren’t going to leave the room at all, you turned around and made your way to the door, all the while typing something.

Renjun turned around and pressed his body flat against the wall, trying to stay hidden. You passed by him without a cinch. He waited until you turned the hallway and an extra 5 seconds after that before slipping inside the art room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible. After another check out of the window to make sure you weren’t returning soon, he made his way to the table you set your backpack atop of.

With a quick glance left and right, Renjun gingerly opened your bag and snuck his hand in. His hand bumped around your papers and books, wincing every time he heard the crinkling of your papers. He tried to feel the leather cover of his sketchbook, growing more frustrated with each passing second. After a few heartbeats, he pulled the flap up and peered inside. His hand grazed over a familiar texture, and with an internal leap of joy, he grasped the top of his sketchbook.

“Renjun? What are you doing?”

He froze. He dreaded turning around; you had caught him red-handed, hand still in your bag. You didn’t sound accusatory or hurt, though. Instead, your voice was laced with confusion.  Face turned up in a wince, he imagined your expression right now.

“(Y/N)! F-Fancy seeing you here, haha,” he whirled around, laughing awkwardly as he pulled his sketchbook out of your bag and held it up beside his head, “I was – I was just, uh, this?”

You nodded slowly by the doorway, eyes locked on the sketchbook, “Will that also explain why you’ve been stalking me for the whole day?”

His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, “I-I wasn’t stalking you, exactly, it’s just that you accidentally put my sketchbook in your bag and I was waiting for a good moment to steal it back?”

“O-Oh,” you cleared your throat, blushing, “Sorry about that. Just tell me about it next time, okay?”

“Noted,” he looked down before looking back up at you, “Now that I’ve got this, I’ll just, um, go now?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you stepped to your side as he exited, watching as he turned around and waved at you.

“Thanks for this,” he gestured to his sketchbook, smiling bashfully at you, “See you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

“Get home safely,” you added. He nodded, whirling on his heel to walk down the hallway. Before he could get too far, however, you called out his name once more, “Renjun!”

He looked back at you. You smiled at him, eyes glinting with mirth, “I love your art style, by the way!”

Renjun really wanted the Earth to swallow him up whole now.

cr. gif not mine unless stated!