#NYSM

[polifandom]

being in a dead fandom is like being in a humid cave alone in the summer but then you find something sparkle in a corner with a bunch of dust on top and its a 2015 masterpiece of a fanfic that you will think about it till the day you die

[ducksinhats]

"now you see me" more like now i see fucking nothing bc there is NO ONE HERE the fandom is in the GRAVE

[heliads]

Hiya Lisa my love!! I think this may be the first request I’m sending you (omg!?) But I am so excited to do so, and of course for our best boy Jack Wilder <3

Okay this one’s a little silly but I’m thinking Jack Wilder x reader where the reader is part of the Horsemen, but Jack and her don’t exactly get along all too well (enemies/reluctant allies to lovers). I’m thinking they’re sent off together to check out and map a location for the Horsemen’s next big act (maybe a fancy gala! That’d be so fun!), but the whole time they’re just bickering and shooting jabs at each other and the other guys are on comms and are just So Tired™ of their bullshit 😭

amber i love you for this

masterlist

You don’t think you’ve ever seen the magical enigma known professionally as J. Daniel Atlas and familiarly as a pain in all of your asses as stressed as he is right before the start of a new job. The Horsemen are world renowned for their intricate performances and flawless setups, which only serves to increase the pressure on all of you to keep one-upping yourselves every time you appear in the spotlight. Danny has taken it upon himself to make sure that all of you stay perfect, and that responsibility is manifesting itself in the form of a lecture right now.

He’s standing in front of you, eyes wild with the fire of what could be creative genius or perhaps too much coffee, and rattling off a series of questions to make sure you know what you’re doing.

“Where are you going?” He asks first.

You meet his gaze steadily. “The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Specifically the busiest areas during the Met Gala.”

“How are you entering?” Danny queries.

“Two ways. First, as a tourist, to spot the security cameras. Then, I’ll go again at night, to lay some cameras of our own and run some more thorough investigations.”

Danny takes a step closer. His hands are steepled together, making him the perfect picture of a plotting supervillain from one of those bad action movies Merritt keeps playing. “What, specifically, are you looking for?”

You want to roll your eyes, but you learned a long time ago that showing any sort of emotion except for intensity in front of Daniel Atlas during his mad planning sessions is only asking for trouble. So, you keep your cool, or you try to, at least. “The normal stuff. Alcoves and closets where we can hide. Areas with low security presence. Entrances and exits. Janitors. Extra uniforms. That sort of thing.”

Daniel nods once, the only sign that you’re not outright bombing his little pop quiz. “And who is going with you on this reconnaissance mission?”

This time, you can’t disguise your sigh of disgust. “I’m taking a stubborn child.”

Danny gives you a cool stare. “Try again.”

You give him a look, but Daniel is prone to winning staring contests, especially when he’s in this sort of mood, so you cut your losses and give in. “Fine. I’m taking Jack.”

To your side, someone starts clapping. “Perfect response!”

You and Daniel both turn in unison to see your recon partner applauding your sarcastic answer from his chair a few paces away. His feet are kicked up on the table in front of him, and although he had been aimlessly scrolling through his phone this entire time, he’s put the device down temporarily so he can remind you just how strong a bond the two of you share. Which is to say, in no uncertain terms, none at all.

Daniel glances back at you. “You’re not going to let the two of you working together be a problem, will you?”

You fold your arms across his chest, affronted. “I won’t. You might want to double-check with my so-called partner, though. Who, by the way, is free to answer any of these questions on his own. I don’t see why I’m the one who has to know everything while he gets off easy. Aren’t we sharing this responsibility? And by extension, this interrogation?”

Jack just flashes you a thousand-watt smile. “You seemed to have it covered, sweetheart. Besides, I just like hearing the sound of your lovely voice.”

You flip him off. He blows you a kiss, then does the same. Daniel looks ready to burst a blood vessel. “Focus, you two. I want no slip ups. We’re stealing the show of the Met Gala. If we make a mistake, I think Anna Wintour will personally kill us.”

“She’s going to do that anyway,” Jack muses, “We’re interrupting her little fashion show. God forbid someone focuses on us instead of all the celebrities who aren’t even dressing to theme. If I had that money, I could do way better, is all I’m saying.”

You shoot him a perplexed look. “Since when have you paid attention to the Met Gala outfits? Last time I tried talking about it, you told me that was all absurdist nonsense.”

“Maybe I was just talking about you,” Jack answers vaguely. “I’m allowed to, like, develop interests.”

You toss him a glare, then turn back to Daniel, who for some reason looks somewhat entertained. “Can we go back to the plan, please?”

Danny straightens up. “Yes, I’d like that. I’ve briefed both of you on the entrances and exits I need you to scout out–”

“Too many times,” Jack cuts in. He’s not wrong. Danny’s been over this every hour on the hour since you got the call to stage your own show at one of the most famous fashion opportunities of the year.

Daniel, however, seems to think that he hasn’t mentioned the details enough. Now Jack is on the receiving end of not just your glare but Daniel’s as well. “As I was saying,” Danny continues smoothly, “You’ll get in and get out. Try not to move too quickly, you don’t want to attract attention, but don’t linger too long, either.”

“We’ll be fine,” you assure him. “Not our first rodeo.”

Danny nods hesitantly. “I know. Just your first rodeo together in a while.”

That’s no big secret. You and Jack may both be Horsemen, but that certainly doesn’t mean you have to like each other. In fact, you couldn’t be farther from it. You’re not enemies, so to speak, an enemy is the FBI or the CIA, but referring to whatever exists between you as friendship is stretching the truth. You’re more like uncertain, unhappy allies. You’ll work together so long as you get paid and stay in the spotlight while you’re at it, but you’re not likely to grab drinks after a show together.

However, the Horsemen come first above any personal squabble. Always. That’s the one thing you and Jack can agree on. What you’re working on is bigger than the two of you, it’s bigger than all of you. To most of the world, you are magic. No rift between teammates is worth damaging that ideal.

That’s why Jack straightens up at last, and dons an expression verging on solemnity. “We’ll do our part, Danny. No need to worry.”

“There had better not be,” Daniel comments, but he backs off after that, and leaves to track down Merritt to deliver a similar speech.

Now alone, Jack’s familiar cavalier attitude comes back in a flash. “Can’t wait for our little date tomorrow, L/N,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

The next morning, you and Jack wait your turn in the entrance queue at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. You’re both disguised with baseball caps pulled low over your heads, then paired with sunglasses, and you each have fake IDs in your pockets just in case. It’s surprisingly easy to get around undetected; although the Horsemen are famous the world over, no one expects to see them outside of one of your performances. It makes no sense to spot one of you in a coffee shop or in line ahead of you, so their minds just glance over you as if you were never there at all.

It’s certainly convenient. You could always go to an outside source for intel, but if there’s one lesson you’ve learned throughout your time, it’s to never trust anyone outside of your immediate circle. There are always people who’ll sell off your secrets, or debunkers frothing at the mouth to show how you do what you do.

No, it’s best to keep everything under wraps, even if it makes disguises necessary. There’s a brief moment of panic in which the security guard checking Jack’s bag lingers on his face a little longer than usual, but he’s waved through soon enough and then you’re able to wander further into the museum.

A voice crackles over your earpiece. “What was that about?” Danny, paranoid as always.

Jack shrugs, directing his voice towards you so no one will suspect he’s talking to anyone else. “Probably just a newbie convinced they’ll catch a would-be robber by checking my hand sanitizer close enough. They didn’t plant any bugs, we’re good. Most likely, she was just captivated by my exceedingly good looks and got distracted.”

You scoff. “Or maybe she was just fascinated by your hideousness and wanted a better look.”

Jack clutches a hand to his heart, feigning agony. “My hideousness?” Y/N, I’m hurt.”

“Good,” you smile saccharinely at him.

Daniel sighs in a gust of static over your earpiece. “Focus, you two. Please.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Jack says. “We’ll get to work.”

You and Jack slip through the exhibits, pretending to examine paintings in sculptures when, in reality, you’re looking harder at the security features in each room. The Horsemen already have a rough plan in mind for how you’re going to enter and exit, but the security presence could change which specific entrance you use.

When you loiter a little too long near one oil painting of two nobles dancing at a lavish ball, Jack doubles back to your side. “Everything alright? We haven’t been noticed yet, have we?”

You shake your head, snapping yourself back to reality. “No, we’re fine. Just looking. I love this year’s theme for the gala. If I had an actual invitation, I would have worn something like the dress in this painting. I would want to, at least. Of course, that would only happen if we weren’t breaking in, but. Yeah. That’s what I would do.”

You realize you’re rambling and try to cut yourself off, but you’ve already been going on for a while. You wait for Jack to tease you, but instead, the corner of his lips tugs up in a soft half-smile. “It would look good,” he admits, “You would. Maybe we should petition Danny to let us dress up. We could recreate the painting.”

He swoops closer, placing one hand on your waist and taking yours with the other, spinning you into a waltz just like in the painting. Jack pulls you close in an exaggerated dip just like in the painting, one that takes you a little too near the painting. One of the security guards surges across the room to tell you two to move away again. Jack lets you up, then exaggeratedly apologizing, slapping the guy on the back as a gesture of camaraderie. As the guard walks away, you can see the tracer he’s planted, one that will give you two much-needed information on the paths each guard takes on their shift.

“Nice one,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” Jack says, but he’s still looking at you, as if mentally cataloging each and every place his hands had been just moments before. “I am nice.”

You swat him on the shoulder, and he winks. Rather than give that an answer, you head to the next exhibit. The two of you tag the next few guards you come across, noting janitor’s closets and fire exits while you’re at it. 

It’s easy to settle into a rhythm. You go from room to room, you snipe at each other, you get the job done. Jack passes a sculpture of a nude woman and suggests that be the costume you wear to the Gala, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; you tell him that you’ll do it only when he’s got biceps the size of the Greek hero statue next to it.

Eventually, you only have one tag left. This one, though, will be the most difficult. The chief security guard has access to the central security station of the museum; by bugging him, you can get the passcode to the main room, which would be a significant help. The only problem is that you’ll have to get close enough to talk to the guy, and he looks far more suspicious of everyone around him than any of the other guards.

You volunteer to do it, and weave your way over to the guard in charge. It takes a heady dose of flirting, but you’re able to get the job done eventually. You do have to shell out a fake phone number, but he’ll only find out the number isn’t yours later that night. No harm, no foul.

Or, not according to you, at least. When you walk back over to Jack, though, your partner in crime has his arms folded tight across his chest, and he looks more annoyed than you’ve seen him all day. At last, something has managed to pierce his armor of sarcastic, joking indifference, but you’re not sure what.

“He seems nice,” Jack says, voice unnaturally calm, “Maybe you do want to take him out on a date after this, like you said.”

You laugh. “We both know that was an act, Wilder. No need to get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he insists, “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Nothing?” You ask, one brow raised. “So you wouldn’t mind if I went back and gave him my real number?”

Jack slings an arm around your shoulder in a pretense of affection, but it feels more like he’s pinning you to him, making sure you can’t go back and do as threatened. “That would be ridiculous. It would ruin our whole act.”

You grin. “What act?”

“That we’re here on a date of our own, obviously,” Jack says.

“We haven’t done anything of the sort the whole time we were here,” you point out. “It makes more sense for him to think we’re just friends.”

“Then we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Jack suggests, and although you do notice the glint in his eyes when he says it, you’re still not expecting him to lean forward and kiss you. The kiss is– startling, yes, but not bad, not at all, and when he finally breaks away and looks triumphantly over at the guard who’d been flirting with you, you get the feeling that Jack thought so too.

“I think we should do this all the time,” Jack whispers to you. “Maybe we should ask Danny to change our assignments around.”

“Actually,” a voice crackles over your earpieces, “I’d rather neither of you ever spoke to me again. If I have to think about you two making out one more time, I’ll pour bleach directly into my brain.”

You slap a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. “Oh, no. Daniel, how long have our comms been on?”

“The whole time,” your showman says, “I hated all of it, thank you for asking.”

Jack snorts. “And you didn’t remind us to turn off our mics?”

“Merritt wanted to see if you’d actually commit enough to do it,” Danny says, sounding supremely unhappy. “Now we’re both traumatized. Just get your asses back here and never bring this up again.”

This time, you can’t hide your laugh. “Alright, we will. Try to stay away from the bleach in the meantime.”

“I make no promises,” Danny grumbles, sending you and Jack into a wave of laughter again.

Jack reaches up to switch off his own earpiece, then does the same for you, gently brushing the side of your face with his hand while he’s at it. “Well,” he says slowly, “We might as well make the most of our time right now, hadn’t we? I’d hate for our ticket money to go to waste.”

You grin. “Quit the theatrics and kiss me.”

Jack Wilder doesn’t usually do as told. This time, though, he makes an exception.

requested by @hiya-itsamber, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tags: @mayfieldss

[iamfarfromvibingrightnow]

"I came into the world with the wrong family, but I’m leaving with the right one. I love you guys."

can you tell i miss them immensely

[owenhcrper]

NOW YOU SEE ME (2013)

[hermionegalathynius]

Found Family (4/?)

So I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of positive reactions this story is getting. I just want to say thank you to everyone who takes the time to like or reblog or comment my work because it means the world to me.

Fandom: Now You See Me

Pairing: Danny Atlas x Reader

Warnings: Some swearing — read at your own discretion.

Part 3

  “Hello New York!” Danny exclaimed, stepping forward and greeting the crowd. They screamed. 

  “Thank you so much! Hey, it’s great to be back! And have you met our newest Horsemen, the May sisters! Y/n and Lula!”

  The audience cheered louder and you and Lula waved, bright smiles on both your faces. Danny grinned back at you with a wink. 

  “Feels good right?”

  You nodded, “Yep.”

  “Pretty good,” Lula said, walking across the stage, “Pretty good.”

  Danny turned back to the audience and started to calm them, “Thank you, thank you.”

  The cheering quietened.

  “Um, okay. We want to talk to you about your privacy. What does your privacy mean to you?”

  “Because apparently to Owen Case, it means absolutely nothing,” Merritt continued.

  The audience looked around nervously. Your smile widened as you moved to stand next to Danny.

  “No actually, Merritt, it means less than absolutely nothing,” you said before addressing the audience, “You see, Owen’s mocked your privacy. He’s scorned it.”

  Danny nodded, running a discreet hand down your back and loosening the tension in your shoulders. You tried not to blush in front of an audience of people. 

  “Right,” he continued, “and we’re not just talking about the things that you already agreed to when you signed probably without reading the terms and conditions of Octas 1 through 7.”

  “So,” Lula began, “Before we start the show, we had Owen agree to a few terms of our own.”

  You grinned at her, proud of her for reaching this dream. She looked so comfortable up there, talking to the audience. You were glad to be able to do it with her, too.

  “So everything that he had once considered private…” Lula trailed off.

  Your heart dropped to your stomach as her mic cut out. One glance at Danny told you he understood and he quickly walked over to Lula.

  “Yeah, everything that he once considered private is now…” his mic cut off too.

  “Shit,” you whispered, not bothering to mind your language as you assumed yours had cut off too. 

  The screen behind you flashed and white noise filled the theatre. People screamed. 

  “Oh my,” a computer-generated voice echoed through the room, “As the Horsemen like to say, magic is about controlling perception.”

  You gazed up at the shifting face that appeared on the screen. Someone grabbed your arm gently and you turned to see Danny. 

 “Y/n!” He exclaimed, “Are you alright?”

  You swallowed, fear piercing through you, “I… yeah. Yeah I’m okay. What’s going on, Danny?”

  He shook his head, “I don’t know.”

  “You see them as the champions of the truth,” the voice continued, “but are they? Or is that just another one of their illusions?”

  “Shit shit shit,” Merritt was saying as he and Lula joined you and Danny in the middle of the stage, “Where’s Dylan?”

  “And Jack?” Lula added. 

  “So since they clearly love secrets, let’s reveal some of theirs.”

  “Danny, everyone, get off the stage,” Dylan’s voice crackled through the coms, “Jack, go with them. I’ll see you at the meet up point.”

  Danny’s hand moved down your arm and gripped yours. You squeezed his fingers in response.

  “Let’s go,” he said, pulling you off the stage behind him. 

  The four of you began running, the voice echoing behind you clear as day. 

  “Do you recall the death of Jack Wilder? What if I told you he’s not just alive, but he’s actually right here.”

  Jack’s alarmed face under his security cap was displayed on a screen you passed as you ran out of the backstage area.

  “Dammit,” you heard Danny mutter. His hand was still firmly clasped around yours. Normally you would be bothered by the tightness, but adrenalin was coursing through your veins and you were just that desperate not to lose track of him in this chaos. 

  “And do you know who else is here? The FBI. Let’s let them in, shall we? And now for the big reveal…”

  “Where’s the door to the roof?” Danny called to Jack as the younger man joined the group running to the meeting point. 

  “Take the next left then up the stairs,” Jack said. 

  “There’s a fifth Horseman, and he’s the biggest criminal of them all. FBI agent Dylan Rhodes.”

  The five of you punched through the door to the roof. 

  “How the hell could this happen? I thought Dylan had everything under control!” Merritt yelled.

  “Yeah. Apparently he didn’t,” Danny said, quietly frustrated in the way you knew he could get.

  Merritt whirled on the illusionist, and something in his expression told you Danny wouldn’t like what he was about to say. 

  “Maybe you’re the leak, Dan. Where’ve you been sneaking off to?” Merritt demanded. 

  Danny let go of your hand and advanced on the mentalist, “Don’t you dare for a second insinuate that I had anything to do with this!”

  “I’m not insinuating, that’s your-“ Merritt began to retort, but Jack cut in. 

  “Let’s get to the truck, come on!”

  You all ran to the black tube. Danny nudged you in front of him, and you jumped in. 

  Gritting your teeth against the roller-coster sensation in your gut, you crossed your arms over your chest and noted with some curiosity the pulsing sound coming from the gaps in the tube. 

  You could also hear Jack sliding ahead of you and Danny behind you. After a moment you also heard Merritt screaming further back. 

  Then, with a thud you tumbled into a laundry basket. 

  “Wha…” you breathed, getting a split second to gaze around at your surroundings before Danny slammed into you. 

  “Oof,” he said, “Sorry. You okay?”

  You winced, “Yeah. A little bruised, but I’ve had worse. You?”

  He nodded as Lula and Merritt tumbled into the basket next to you, “Yeah. What the hell is going on?”

  “Wasn’t there supposed to be a truck?” Merritt asked, clambering out of the basket. The rest of you followed his lead. Asian people in white aprons started yelling at you, shoving you through a crowded, steamy kitchen.

  “Wait,” Danny said in between being shoved by Chinese chefs, “did you mis-run the tube?”

  “No, I put it in the truck, I know I did!” Jack exclaimed, bumping into you while trying to dodge an oncoming tray. 

  “We’re really not in the truck right now,” you said, stumbling into Danny who reached back and grabbed your hand, the sensation becoming familiar to you.

  “Somebody must have moved the tube,” Merritt said, as you all moved through a set of doors into what looked like a restaurant, “Were we above a Chinese restaurant?”

  “I’m moving, relax!” Lula yelled at the man who was shoving her out of the kitchen. 

  “Okay, why are we here?” you demanded.

  “Why am I frickin’ starving?” Lula asked, staring at the Chinese food everywhere.

  “Yeah, I’m weirdly starving too,” Jack mused.

  At their words your own stomach growled, responding to the smell of noodles and stir fry surrounding you.

  Merritt moved towards the door, popping his head outside. 

  “Something’s very wrong,” you told Danny softly.

  He nodded, brows furrowed, “Yeah, I agree.”

  “At least,” Lula began as Merritt returned, “And I know this isn’t much consolation, but apparently we’re now surrounded by Chinese food. Right?”

  “Guys…” Merritt said and you all turned to look at him, “I think where we are right now, they don’t refer to it as ‘Chinese food’. It’s just called… food.”

  “Shit,” you muttered.

  “Wait, what are you saying?” Danny asked, “How is this possible?”

  A high pitched giggle directed all of your attention to the man with a perm sitting at the table nearest you, facing away with a menu held up in front of his face. 

  “I believe in your particular parlance, the word is ‘magic’.”

Taglist:

@pulling-out-my-eyes

[stuffimscaredtoshowpeopleiknow]

Just a fun little NYSM tribute I made to celebrate the announcement of the third movie. (I'm a little late to the party haha)

[bobawitch]

The Different Stage (Jack Wilder x Reader)

warnings: fluff, mentions of stripping, suggestive situations.

A/N: i was rewatching the now you see me movies and I am absolutely obsessed with Jack Wilder so I thought I’d write a fic abt it. So in this reader is a stripper, she’s not a prostitute but she pole dances at a strip club and Jack goes in with Atlas and Merritt. Jack likes her and wants to actually get to know her. that’s basically it! Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: 1307

Chapter 1:

It was just another night at the club. You had to work, in fact your hours had just about doubled since your rent went up. Though that’s just how it is in New York isn’t it. Thankfully you had done your last dance for the night and were packing up to go back to your crappy apartment. You pulled your hair up into a messy bun held together by a big clip. You walked back through the drinking area, the dancer scheduled after you had already taken the stage. You looked at her, smiling at her and waving, she smiled back. All the dancers were close, you all had to be to make sure no one got in trouble with a creepy customer. You turned to resume your journey home when you knocked into someone. A smooth male voice hit your ears and you found yourself face to face with these beautiful brown eyes. “Miss?” He spoke and you realized he had definitely said something else. The other two men that were with him eyed you before shrugging and walking to a table. “Oh uh, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.” You said before moving to the side to push past him. He let you leave but watched you very closely as you did leave. Then he found his friends. Jack sat down with Atlas and Merritt, still looking back at the door you had left from. Atlas nudged Merritt with a devilish grin. “Look Jack’s got a crush!” Jack smacked Atlas’s arm, his eyes not leaving the doorway for a few more minutes. “Shut up.” Merritt and Atlas laughed before their night went on.

The next day you found yourself thinking of the man you ran into. You had never seen him around the bar before but he looked so familiar. You tried to push the beautiful stranger from your mind as you got ready for your night. You chose a fan favorite dance tonight, with the fan favorite outfit too. You didn’t enjoy your job but you were damn good at it. You walked out onto the stage after their announcement of your stage name and the music began. It was your most popular song for stage dance, So High by Doja Cat. You slowly strutted to the pole, throwing one leg around and letting yourself swing around. Your arms stabilized you on the pole and your head made a slow circle. It was the first time you actually looked at the audience and when you caught a pair of chocolate brown eyes you nearly stopped your routine. It was the man from the night before. He had come with the other two men again though one was being escorted off for a private lap dance. You let your eyes linger on him as his eyes burned your skin with intensity. You slowly dragged yourself back up the pole before moving to the side of the stage. Fingers twisting together you dropped to your knees at the beat, crawling forward before touching up your torso as the chorus began. Soon you lost yourself in the music, temporarily forgetting about the candy-eyed man. After your performance you had groundwork to do, that of course entailed a costume change and small makeup touch up. Once you changed your outfit and pulled your hair to one side you walked out. You were headed to one of the tables in your area when you were stopped. A man had walked in front of you, causing you to look up. Once more you found yourself in an intense staring match with the handsome stranger. “Uh.. hi.” He said, obviously a bit flustered, You smirked and touched his shoulder, walking next to him. “Hello loverboy.” You replied, beginning to walk away, your finger signaling for him to follow behind you. Upon hearing his footsteps behind you, your smirk grew. You got to the bar and picked up a tray for one of the tables. The stranger finally caught up and leaned on the bar. “So what’s your name… y’know your real name?” He asked. You laughed, “I don’t give my name to customers, sorry sweetcheeks.” “Then who do you give your name to?” “Hm, let me think on that.” You winked at him before moving to the table you were to serve. You set down the drinks, chatting up the gentlemen at the table for a few moments. A few tips were made through that before you walked back to the bar, handsome stranger was waiting for you. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He said. “Alright Jack, you going to buy something or just keep talking to me?” You glanced at him, smirking again. “Hm, how much would a date cost?” His lips cracked into a smirk to rival yours. A sultry giggle escaped your lips before you shook your head. “Dunno, how much you willing to pay? And what do you want me to do for that date?” Out of the corner of your eye you saw him shake his head. You leaned against the bar now, looking at him and holding tense eye contact. His cheeks had gone a bit pink as you spoke but he composed himself as he replied. “No no, not that kind of date.” “Hm, how about I think about that? Maybe I’ll let you know at the end of my shift.” You shrugged, grabbing another drink tray before moving to deliver them. As you began to walk to the table one of Jack’s friends came over, obviously drunk as hell. “Heyy Jack! You found her! Great job!! Hey, how about I pay for a private lap dance huh?” He spoke, smirking at Jack and still blocking your path. Jack began to protest the idea of a lap dance, giving you an apologetic smile. You giggled a bit, his smile was kinda cute. But his friend had already pulled out the money and stuck it in your top string. You sighed, handing your drink tray to one of the other girls to deliver. Jack looked down at you when your hand pressed to his chest. “Well, come on loverboy, a lap dance was ordered.” You wrapped your fingers around his tie and pulled him off. “You don’t have to give me a lap dance, I’m so sorry about my friend.” He spoke in pure panic until you got to the booths for private lap dances. You turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Hesitant hands found your hips and you smiled. You leaned in, your lips almost brushing against his before turning him around and pushing him into the chair. You climbed onto his lap, your thighs trapping him beneath you. You leaned down to his ear and whispered, “If you want me to stop, just say that.” As your words left your lips you began the dance. Your hips grinded gently in a circle, your hands dragging up his chest. Jack opened then closed his mouth, his hands not knowing where to touch. You leaned forward, pulling yourself up. Your chest was at his eye level yet his eyes stuck onto yours. You brought your hands around his head, playing with his hair. You dragged his head back, leaning into his neck to whisper. “I’m Y/N. And a date sounds nice, if you still want that.” Jack’s hands finally found your waist and he sat you down on his lap, looking at you with a different kind of intensity. “When do you get off?” “11.” “Let me get you food after work.” “You have a deal Jack.” You stood back up and pushed your hand onto his shoulder. Slowly you climbed off his lap and opened the curtain. “See you at 11 Jack.” You winked and walked off before he could get another sentence in.

[flinttcanwriteipromise]

I BRING NEWS.

[werewylf]

rewatching now you see me and I think it's so funny how oblivious dylan pretends to be,, thaddeus bradley WHO,, the eye WHAT,, no sir I don't know anything abt the magic industry

[spiderspunkoriginal]

Guys what should my new pfp be (blame truly-very-British for the new hyper fixation)

[catbunblue302]

Was watching Now You See Me again last night and my god Jack really is doing everything 😂 Everytime we need something offstage? Jack can get it. Steal a whole-ass corpse? Jack can do it. Dramatic car chase? Jack's got this. My man is fucking CARRYING this entire operation.

[heliads]

Lisa my love! I hope you don’t mind me sending another request (for none other than Jack Wilder again of course) — but how about a Jack x reader meet-cute situation, maybe she’s a barista at the coffee shop he likes to visit, and he definitely thinks she’s more than cute but reader is a little oblivious to that fact. But she doesn’t recognise him at first, (i can imagine a co-worker going “GIRL that was Jack Wilder!” and she’s like “who now?”). Jack ends up becoming a regular and the two get to know each other outside of the coffee shop setting (I’m also imagining he’d try to teach her card tricks and it’d just be so !!!!!! absolute fluff). Sorry, this request doesn’t have a SINGLE coherent thought in it, it’s literally so silly but I love this man bfhvdjhfvdn

anything for the boy

'wake me up' - jack wilder

masterlist

Nothing has ever made you want to drink coffee less than working in a coffee shop. Whether or not you’ll actually stop is purely up to your own moral strength, of course, but you’re reminded daily of why you would make such a choice whenever you clock in to your latest shift at your local coffee shop. The sight of so many exhausted people who seem to prefer snapping at you to actually taking accountability in their own lives is depressing, to say the least. 

Still, you keep working there. You always do. It’s satisfying in itself, as far as jobs go, and your coworkers are funny enough that the time always passes faster than expected. It’s not bad. And sometimes, on rare days like today, you end up meeting someone with the power to change your life forever.

The funny thing is, you almost missed him. The shop was crazy busy when he came in. You would find out later that the people were only crowding into the shop and lining up down the block because of him, but you hadn’t known that at the time. You had just chalked it up to word of mouth, maybe enough people had finally appreciated the expert level of care you and your coworkers put into their lattes and decided to show up and see what’s what. 

You certainly hadn’t counted on the cute boy who came bounding through the door of your shop, sending the bell fixed to the top into a commotion matching the hubbub surrounding the tables inside. Your first thought was that he seemed energetic enough that ordering coffee was unnecessary. Your second thought, as he breezed up to you, ready to order, was that you certainly didn’t mind your job anymore if it brought you faces as pretty as his. 

For a complete stranger, he seemed very sure of himself. He had paused for a moment before speaking, as if waiting for you to burst into applause at the sight of him. When it became clear you weren’t going to fall into raptures, he just shrugged and rattled off his order. The words were perfectly cadenced, probably memorized. You wrote it down like normal. Routines can be tedious on both ends, even if two perfect strangers are meeting for the first time. Sometimes, you don’t know that the course of your life has been irrevocably affected until much later. You certainly didn’t know it then.

You had guessed that something was strange, though. You had asked what name he wanted with the order and the young man had blinked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t fathom the possibility that you wouldn’t know who he was. You’re familiar with the regulars of the coffee shop, so you knew he wasn’t one of them. Still, he seemed so stunned that you didn’t recognize him already. In a good way, though. With the way he smiled at you as he said, “Just Jack, thanks,” you got the feeling that he thought quite a lot about you was good.

Jack’s order wasn’t too complicated, so you were able to finish it quickly, which he seemed to appreciate. Even after he moved out of line to wait for his coffee, Jack had still hung around the counter, eyes nervously darting around the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him. From the few glances you were able to sneak as you poured and mixed ingredients, you almost thought he was right to worry. All these tables of girls kept whispering and giggling to each other, staring back at him with this outright, unusual intensity.

You had no idea why he was seemingly being stalked by so many people, but he was cute, so maybe that would do it. There’s a college campus across town, maybe he was on a varsity athletics team or something. You called his name and several people perked up. No one looked happier than Jack, though, and he eagerly slid over to you so he could pick up his drink.

You raised an eyebrow at his excitement, unable to hide a small smile. “Really looking forward to that coffee, huh?”

Jack had the presence of mind to blush a little. “I just want to hit the road as soon as I can.”

You took an obvious look past him. “I think I can understand that. What did you do, announce that you’d be giving away free kittens or something?”

Jack chuckled, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. “Not quite. Do you– do you not know who I am?” He gave this pained half-laugh as he said it, like he could tell that saying something like that didn’t make him come off as the nicest.

He was cute enough that it worked, though. Cute and charming. He could get away with anything. Later, you’d learn that he usually did.

“No,” you said, and his entire face had lit up. Strange. “I’m not a mind reader,” you reminded him, “I won’t know your name unless you tell it to me.”

“Well,” he had said slowly, “I won’t mind saying it again. Maybe tomorrow morning?”

You had laughed. “I’ll see you then.”

Jack had all but beamed at you, turning around to smile at you one last time right before exiting the shop. You’d watched him go with a soft smile, shaking your head to yourself as you headed back to get the next customer’s order.

When you started mixing up the next drink, though, one of your coworkers turned to you, practically shrieking in your ear with the force of her excitement. “Am I dreaming, or was that Jack Wilder?”

You glanced at her, confused, as you reached for the oat milk. “Who?”

Your coworker’s eyes widened in horrified shock. “You must be joking. Jack Wilder? Of the Horsemen?”

You had frowned at her. “Like the four that bring about the apocalypse? He seemed nice enough to me, I doubt he’s going to bring pestilence or death upon our coffee shop.”

Your coworker had shaken her head, her eyes flickering briefly shut as if praying for strength. “No, Y/N, the Horsemen are a world famous group of magicians. They’re like, crazy good. During a show, they once robbed a bank on the opposite side of the globe.”

“So they’re criminals,” you muttered, eyebrows raised, “They sound like lovely people, then. Should I check the credit card he paid with? Maybe it was a playing card instead and I didn’t notice.”

She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t do that, obviously. They’re like magical Robin Hoods, they only steal from banks and bad rich people and stuff like that. Jack Wilder is a celebrity, if that’s what it takes to get through to you. He’s like, the hottest one of all of them.”

“That I can agree with,” you had grinned to yourself. He was really good looking, and sweet at the same time. 

You found yourself sincerely hoping that he would come back the next morning, although the odds of that had to be low. If Jack really was a world-class celebrity, he’d probably jet across to a new country by the end of the day. He probably wouldn’t stay in one place that long, especially given the questionable legality of his day job. Coming back to the same small coffee shop was practically out of the question.

And yet, when you open up the next morning, you find yourself idly glancing outside the front window every few minutes, constantly checking to see if there’s a cute magician slipping inside your shop. Each peek down the street is rewarded with the sight of faces that aren’t his, though that doesn’t stop you from looking again.

Eventually, you decide that he’s not coming after all and there’s no point in continually craning your neck to see past the people huddled outside the main window, trying to talk themselves out of purchasing a pastry. It is only now, when you let down your guard, that you see someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye and announce, as if this were some great, life-changing thing:  “I’m back.”

For anyone else, this would be obnoxious. However, the cute boy beaming at you did make you a promise, so it is quite important that he would be here to honor his word. You end up smiling back at him in silence for a beat too long. It takes your coworker pointedly looking at the line growing behind Jack for you to remember yourself.

“Right, right. Coffee. What can I get you this morning?”

He looks bashfully behind him, as if only realizing that it’s not just the two of you in here, too. “Um, maybe a double shot vanilla latte? Oh, and can you draw something on the top?”

You hum as you write down the order. “Any ideas, or is the art my choice?”

Jack winks at you. “I’d love your number, but that might be too long. How about a heart, since you’ve already got mine?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but you do your best to keep your cool. “That’s sweet. Do you flirt with all your baristas like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he promises. Maybe Jack’s magic isn’t just in card tricks, but in his smooth moves as well. 

As he turns around to find someplace out of the way to wait for his drink, your coworker openly stares at you, jaw dropped. “What was that?” She asks under her breath, grinning.

You just shrug, although you can’t seem to stop your lips from curling up into a poorly hidden smile. “No idea.”

Jack thanks you for his drink when it’s ready. You weren’t brave enough to give him your number, assuming he was just joking around. He’s a celebrity, you remind yourself. He could probably conjure up Margot Robbie’s number if he really wanted it. He’s not going to go for you if he could have anyone on the planet.

However, when you slide over his coffee and he immediately checks the design in the foam, pretending to pout when he sees no identifying string of digits, you start to wonder if he wasn’t kidding after all. It certainly seems that way when he shows up the next morning, and the next morning, and the next. Jack is turning into a regular, which you didn’t expect. You figured he would sweep from city to city like the rest of the Horsemen, but for some reason Jack seems inclined to stay.

He insists on getting your number about a week later, and says he won’t leave the shop until he gets it. He pretends to handcuff himself to the chair of his favorite spot, pulling the metal cuffs out of thin air and grinning at your surprised reaction. You make him stay there, locked in place, for a few more minutes just to mess with him, but in the end he walks out with your number, and when you leave that night, you find a card tucked into the pocket of your apron. 

It’s the queen of hearts, although the image is less entrancing than the phone number scrawled across the front. Just in case I lost yours by accident, says the note on the back. You press it to your heart, trying to stop yourself from audibly squealing. You had promised that you wouldn’t fall for him, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to keep your word. 

Especially not when you get a text some time later that night:  Get home safe? Then:  This is Jack. Although I hope you wouldn’t be confusing my number with other handsome men who also wanted to see you.

In the safety of your room, you’re free to lightly kick your heels back and forth like a kid with a schoolgirl crush. No other admirers. Just you.

Just the way I like it, is the answer, practically only a few heartbeats after your text. You might actually end up loving him if he’s not careful.

Jack comes in the next morning looking far too pleased with himself. In fact, he even goes so far as to ask when you get off work that day. He says he wants to see you without other customers getting in the way. You remind him that he, too, is a customer, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, asking if you want him to be something else. You don’t deign to respond to that, but you think your self-conscious smile does enough talking. He certainly laughs like it does.

Jack ends up taking you out to lunch. He makes you laugh the whole time, looking proud of himself every time he manages to elicit so much as a smile from you. He tells you stories about all the fantastic jobs he’s taken as a Horseman, even attempts to teach you a card trick or two. Several dropped decks later, both of you can freely admit that he’s got more of a knack for sleight of hand than you, but his hands have been over yours in the name of teaching his trade often enough that neither of you much mind.

It’s getting harder and harder to pretend that this is just a game to him. You do ask him once, as he’s dropping you off at your door, if he really does want this. You. Everything. Jack looks softly at you once, eyes containing all the secrets he couldn’t possibly put into words if he tried, and then he kisses you sweetly, slowly, and you know. Jack Wilder could have the whole world in his hands, but as it turns out, the only thing he wants from it is you. He’ll convince you of that as often as it takes. You can’t wait to watch him try.

requested by @hiya-itsamber, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: @mayfieldss

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[intizzies]

since tiktok hates me I have to put this here too so maybe some nysm fans can see it bc I put so much work into this bloody thing istg

there's a shorter version on @ realitysplinter and this version on @ airyeditss on tiktok 🩷🩷

[broadwayfan92]

Dylan Rhodes is back! Let’s go!!

[hermionegalathynius]

Found Family (3/?)

Fandom: Now You See Me

Pairing: Daniel Atlas x Reader

Warnings: none really, just Lula’s fake severed hand.

Part 2 Part 4

Your alarm woke you up at seven o’clock on the morning of the big day. 

  Stretching out your stiff muscles, you threw on a wooly blue jumper and made your way down the hall to the main room. Danny was already moving about the kitchen, clad in tracksuit pants and a unzipped hoodie over a T-shirt, making you both coffee. It had become a routine for the two of you to drink coffee together in the mornings. Conversation occasionally accompanied the tradition, but usually you just sat in comfortable silence and you both slowly woke up. 

  Today was different though. It was clear as soon as he handed you your Yoda mug full of that life-saving substance that he had a few things to discuss. 

  “Morning,” you greeted softly, knowing if you didn’t he would probably just launch right in to whatever topic he had in mind. 

  “Morning,” he said, sitting down opposite you at the kitchen table. 

  Taking a sip, you quirked a brow at him, “Alright Danny, spit it out.”

  He nodded, stalling for a brief moment by sipping from his own mug, “Are you feeling okay? About today, I mean.”

  You gave him a teasing smile, “Why? You worried about me, Atlas?”

  He didn’t answer, opting instead to take another sip of his coffee. He is worried about me, you realised with no small amount of warmth. 

  “I’m okay, Danny. Really,” you said gently, “It’s not my first rodeo.”

  “This uh… this isn’t like any other show though,” he mused, fishing his deck of cards out of the pocket of his hoodie and mindlessly shuffling the cards. You watched, mesmerised by the fluidity of his movements and the ease at which the cards flipped between his fingers. 

  “I know. After all this Lula and I will officially be fugitives of the law, just like you, Jack and Merritt. But we knew what we were signing up to, Danny. I’ve made my choice and I’m sticking with it.”

  Swallowing he nodded, placing the cards down on the table. With a grin you grabbed them, performing your own shuffling ritual and spreading them out on the table skilfully.

  “Pick a card, and look at it.”

  He chuckled, leaning forward to pluck one from the spread. After a single glance, he placed it back in a different spot. 

  “Now shuffle it yourself,” you instructed, nodding towards the cards.

  “You know it’s not a mystery to me, right?” He reminded you as he shuffled.

  You winked, “I know, but it’s still fun. Who else can say the J Daniel Atlas was the volunteer for one of their magic tricks?”

  With a jerk of his eyebrows and that small knowing smile of his, he placed the deck down on the table again, “Fair enough.”

  Grabbing the deck, you chucked it into the air behind you, eyes trained on Danny as the cards fluttered to the floor. 

  “And the point of that was…” he trailed off, leaning back in his chair, the epitome of carefree. 

  Flicking your wrist, a playing card appeared in your hand for him to see, “Was this your card?”

  “That’s actually pretty good,” he admitted, “I didn’t even see your slight of hand.”

  “But you know how I did it,” you stated, not meaning it as a question at all. 

  “Naturally.”

  The two of you finished your coffee and got ready to meet the others at Dylan’s place. Knowing you wouldn’t have time to change properly before the show, you got into the outfit you were to perform in. It consisted of a black halter top tucked into a slater skirt with opaque tights and your leather jacket. 

  Applying a bit of mascara and eyeliner to finish it off, you walked out of your room to wait for Danny to finish up putting on his numerous disguises.

  “Woah,” he muttered as he stepped into the main room and caught sight of you leaning against the kitchen table, “you clean up nice.”

  Your eyes widened and a blush made its way onto your face. Through your spiralling thoughts and nerves about what you were going to take on today, you hadn’t thought about what Danny’s reaction would be to your being dressed up. 

  “Uh, thanks,” you mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “We should probably go.”

  “Yeah, let me just grab my keys.”

  ———

  Two hours later you, Merritt and Lula waited in the van parked strategically for a getaway. 

  “I have to go in 5 minutes, so any last advice,” you asked, trying to keep your breathing even. 

  “Have confidence in your own abilities,” Danny said, meeting your gaze from where he sat opposite you, “These past few weeks have proven that you’re skilled at magic and good at adapting to your situation.”

  Your breathing relaxed as you gazed at him, a grateful smile blooming across your face, “Thanks, Danny. That means a lot.”

  He shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “It’s the truth.”

  “Oh my god, my sister’s gonna get with Atlas before I get with Jack,” Lula huffed, throwing her head against the headrest of the passenger seat. 

  “I’m sorry, but was that not obvious from the first time they interacted?” Merritt drawled. 

  Your face was red. You were sure you looked like a tomato. 

  “Can we all just focus, please?” Danny snapped, then with a quick glance at you, “You should probably get going.”

  You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you guys in there.”

  “Break a leg,” Merritt called, not bothering to turn around. 

  “Yeah, good luck Y/nn!” Lula said, using the nickname that up until this moment you had hoped the other Horsemen would never hear. 

  Sighing, you climbed out the back of the van and gave Danny one last smile, “So long, Atlas.”

  He just winked, “I’ll see you on stage.”

  Then you were off, walking at a natural pace to the front of the building. Grabbing a colourful silk scarf and a large pair of sunglasses, you donned them, hoping they took enough attention away from your features so no one recognised you later on. The front doors were automatic and slid open as you neared them. Once inside you were instantly surrounded by the hum of chatter and the beep of metal detectors. 

  There was a line to check in with the security guards, and you joined the one to the far left. 

  “Keys, cell phones, iPads in the bin,” a familiar voice was saying as you neared the front of the queue, “Thank you sir.”

  The line moved on and the woman in front of you placed her bag on the conveyor belt, “Can’t have you texting, tweeting, recording, or… eating.”

  Jack held up a banana he’d grabbed from the woman’s bag with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, we will take very good care of it for you.”

  She walked off and you stepped forward. 

  “Morning miss, can I see your employee badge?” Jack asked, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a knowing smirk. You tried not to smile back at him. 

  “I um… I was actually sent an email by Octa. I’m a vlogger…?” you said, holding up your phone with the forged email displayed on the screen.

  “Oh, great, let me just see…” Jack said, making a show of inspecting the email, “Everything seems about right, just place your bag down and come right through.”

  Then you were off again, palming the earpiece Jack hand slipped you once you were through the metal detector and placing it in your ear. 

  “Dylan, I’m in,” you whispered into your arm as you tugged off the scarf and sunglasses, depositing them in the nearest bin.

  “Great, so is Jack. Atlas, you’re up.”

  “No, Dylan I can’t,” Danny said, distress evident in his tone. 

  “Why, what’s the problem?”

  “No no no, there’s too many people, I can’t-“

  “Atlas, they got Owen landing now!” Dylan ordered. 

  “Okay.”

  You took a deep breath, heading through a door into a big room with loads of tables and chairs.  There was what seemed like a buffet along one end manned by immaculate-looking people in chef uniforms. You caught sight of a flash of dark hair and your sister winked at you. 

  Moving to a corner, you made a show of walking along the side, admiring the displays of technology while keeping an eye on Lula. 

  “Atlas, the stooge has left the building,” Jack’s voice came over the coms. 

  “The circuit board is ours, I am moving backstage,” Danny informed.

  Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Lula who was adjusting her chefs hat.

  “Alright, Lula,” Dylan said, “Show these guys what you’re made of.”

  You watched as your sister took a deep breath and hurried over to the meat counter, interrupting the man with the saw. 

  “I can take over from here,” she said, smiling at him, “Clark says your on a break.”

  He frowned, “What break? Who’s Clark?”

  Lula laughed, “Who’s Clark! That’s funny… you imagine if I told Roger that? He’d freak out!”

  She punctuated her sentence by spraying something on the meat that created a sudden puff of flame. 

  “Don’t do that!” The man exclaimed, reaching out his hand as if to physically restrain her. 

  “What?!” 

  You took this as your cue to begin drifting towards the counter, still gazing speculatively at the displays. 

  “Who the hell is Roger?” The man continued.

  “Does Lisa know that you don’t know Roger?” your sister continued, her strategically baffled expression flustering the poor man. 

  “I don’t know who Lisa is.”

  “Are you kidding me man, you don’t know who Lisa is now?”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Oh my god.”

  “Just get away!”

  “No give me that! Don’t make me have to go to Brian!”

  “I don’t know who that is! This is a dangerous tool, maybe you should-“

  “Why are you acting like thi- aaahhh!” Lula screamed. 

  “That’s my cue,” you whispered, head shooting up just in time to see the saw dig into your sister’s arm. 

  Grabbing your first aid kit from your bag, you hurried over to the panicking chefs with your sister screaming in agony in the middle. 

  “Move please! Move! Paramedic coming through!” You commanded, pushing through the crowd of white uniforms. 

  “Someone hand me a towel!” You instructed, holding out your hand as you gripped Lula’s arm. 

  Somehow a black napkin made its way into your hand and you began tying it around the wound. 

  “Alright, try to stay calm, Miss. I’m going to take you to the bathrooms to get this cleaned up and looked after,” you said loudly, trying to draw as much attention to the commotion as possible. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Merritt lead Owens away. Good, the distraction was working. 

  “What is this? A miracle towel?” Lula was muttering, “You know what? This has shown me that I’m not cut out for this kind of work!”

  With that, she slapped the man she’d been arguing with across the chest and allowed you to lead her away. 

  “Thank you, and goodbye!” She exclaimed, swinging her ‘injured’ arm and causing the fake severed hand to fling across the space and land in the meat spread. People gasped in disgust as the two of you quickly hurried out of sight. 

  “Nice job,” you whispered to her as you entered the bathrooms, checking to make sure it was empty before helping Lula out of her chef uniform and taking off your own floor length coat to reveal your leather jacket. 

  “You too. Now let’s go do what we’re actually good at,” she said with a grin before rushing out and down the corridor to the backstage area. With an amused shake of your head, you followed her, combat boots beating against the tiled floor. 

  Once backstage, you stopped next to Jack who was saying to your sister, “I’m actually nervous, and I’m not even going on stage.”

  “You know, some say it helps — when your nervous — to picture each other naked,” she said, making you sigh. 

  “It’s uh, actually picture the audience naked,” Danny said, sliding up next to you. 

  You grinned at him, winking. His serious expression thawed and he smiled.

  “No, no this is new. This is a new science. So we should…” Lula trailed off. 

  “Not in the right mood,” Jack said with a nervous laugh. You gave her a reassuring pat on the back. 

  “That just leaves you and me, old buddy,” Merritt said to Danny.

  “What do you- oh. Picture each other- no. No thank you,” the illusionist said, shaking his head adamantly. You giggled lightly. 

  “Fine then. Y/n? How about it? I know from the neck up there are some issues, but from the neck down… the David.”

  “Okay, that’s… nice,” Danny said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

  “Aw, don’t be jealous Atlas. I’m just having fun,” Merritt teased. You slapped his arm gently, rolling your eyes. 

  “…Owen Case!” The announcer said, indicating it was almost time for the four of you to make it onto stage. 

  “Good morning, Octa-lites,” Merritt murmured beside you, repeated by Owen on the big screen. Your mouth quirked into a knowing smirk. 

  “Now I’ve made the claim that Octa 8 is pure magic. But the truth is, that’s just one of those things I say… when in fact, I mean something else.”

  The audience was beginning to get suspicious, catching on that something strange was happening here. You grinned at Danny as the two of you along with Merritt and Lula made your way to the space behind the big screens. 

  “What else do I mean?” Merritt and Owen continued, “Well, here to fill you in on all of my fabulous lies and hypocrisy, and to perform some of the most dazzling feats of magic you have ever seen…”

  You could hear the audience’s excitement bow as they began to clock on to where this was going. The reality of the situation made you take in a shaky breath. In response, Danny’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. You turned to look at him, breath caught in your throat.

  “You’re gonna be great,” he whispered, “They’ll love you. It’s impossible not to.”

  You gave him a grateful smile as you all braced yourselves.

  “They are the world’s greatest magicians, here to expose me for the fraud I truly am. Ladies and gentlemen, here are the Horsemen!”

  The four of you ran at the board, aiming for the trap doors you knew were hidden in them. With a jump, you broke through, landing on stage in front of blinding lights.