#there's a fucking techno party bus driving through my street right now

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Chapter 3

Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails.

Ao3 Link

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“Police! Everybody put your hands up!” they shouted barging into the main hall of the abandoned mall.

Heads turned and there was a brief moment of disconnect; on one side you had the fighters wondering who snitched, and on the other you had officers equipped for a potential multi-party drug deal and instead got a fighting ring operating in broad daylight.

People scattered, some ran to the exits; some hid in the rubble of the crumbling building; some were still with shock; and others were close enough to get grabbed by an officer. Out of those, a few guys fought them off, but others--such as the Dream Team--went quietly.

The Dream Team and two others were led out of the building.

“Where are you taking us?” the younger girl walking along with them asked, worry etched on her face.

“We’re just taking you to the parking lot,” the officer said. “Then you’ll be taken to the station to make a statement.”

“First time?” Dream asked, trying to make a joke.

Sapnap whacked him upside the head. “Not funny.”

“I’ve never been caught before,” the girl murmured to him, her tone significantly hardened. She quickly lightened up her voice and addressed the officer, “Will we be charged?”

“Mostly likely.”

The officer led them out to the parking lot.

Captain Craft met them at the barrier. “I’ll take them from here X33N. Jordan's just arrived to take over the scene, I’m going back to the station to get these guys processed.”

“Yes Sir.”

“We’ll send out rotating cruisers to pull in detainees as your team apprehends them.”

“Understood Sir.” The officer--X33N--left the five of them with Officer Craft.

Captain Craft’s junior partner then abruptly grabbed Dream by the shoulders and shoved him down to the car.

“Ouch!”

“You are under arrest for loitering on private property.”

“Geez, I get it! No need to be so rough. I came quietly, for goodness sake.”

“Just had to make sure you didn’t get away,” they said snidely.

“The only place I’m going, is the fucking station.” Dream let the officer pull him upright. “I’d like Captain Craft’s car if I get the choice.”

Captain Craft gave his junior partner a nod as well as a hard look. “Be gentle. Treat them with respect, otherwise things will just get worse. You respond, not instigate,” he reprimanded. Captain Craft was much gentler with Sapnap, George, the girl, and the other boy.

Dream and George rode with Captain Craft, while the other three took another car driven by the junior partner.

“Fuck,” George whispered under his breath.

“What is it?”

“Seriously?”

“Specifically,” Dream amended.

“Mother is gonna kill me.” George dropped his head forwards. “She’s been on my ass for that 92 I got in biology last week.”

“She’s still on about that?” Dream asked. “Dude it was a 92, people would kill for a 92.”

“Word choice,” Captain Craft teased from the front seat.

“Sorry,” Dream quickly said, attention never fully leaving George. “She’s too hard on you.”

“And now I’m being taken into the station.”

“George, you’re the medic. You didn’t do anything.”

“Willful ignorance,” George cried pitifully.

“Dude shut up. Anything can and will be used against you and all that.”

“Fuck. Right. Sorry.” George took a deep breath. “It would come out in questioning anyways. Fuck. Mother’s gonna read this on the news.”

“You didn’t have to come with us.”

“I need to live Dream.”

Captain Craft parked the car. He opened the door and ushered the two of them inside, the other three following close behind.

“Names?” the receptionist asked.

“Dream Taken, you?”

“F1NN,” he replied offhandedly, typing Dream’s name into the system. “No current warrants. Next.”

“George Lore.”

“Sapnap Halo”

“Hannah Rose.”

“Walli Bear.”

“Any injuries?”

All five of them stood patiently as F1NN led them through the spiel, the Dream Team bored, Hannah putting on her scared little girl front, and Walli looking genuinely panicked and muted. Dream was then taken away for solo questioning by Captain Craft first, and the rest were taken into a communal holding cell in the station.

“Dream Taken, was it?”

“Yes Sir.” Too formal.

“How are you this fine afternoon?”

“Wonderful. Going to me on my best behaviour for the few weeks I believe. I’ll try too anyway,” he bantered.

“Dream.”

“What’s on your mind Captain?” Dream leaned forward on his elbows. “Any questions for me?”

“There was this kid--your age--in the parking lot.”

Dream blinked, his joking persona dropping for a split second. “Yeah? What about it?”

“He was doing homework. Said that was his spot to get out of the house. What’s the likelihood he didn’t know what was going on?”

Dream wasn’t about to throw Techno under the bus. “Pretty high. He could have gotten there before us and not noticed everyone parking around him today. Also could be a case of thinking that this was normal and not questioning things. You know, Las Nevadas guys running around, best to keep your head low.”

“Advice you clearly stand by.”

Dream shot the officer a wide smile. “That’s my aim.”

Captain Craft scribbled something down in his notebook. “How often does that ring meet?”

“Every so often. It moves around.”

“How many locations?”

“Three? Four? Not sure.”

“Fight often?”

“When I’m told the location.”

“Where’s the next one?”

Dream wiggled his eyebrows. “Not telling.”

“Less community service hours coming your way if you ‘fess up.”

“Need that in print before I hand everyone over. Besides, I only attend when it’s at the mall.”  Dream smiled again, clearly having fun with the banter. “Am I done here? I think I’m done.”

“Nothing more to say?”

“I didn’t fight this afternoon. I only watched.”

Captain Crafted jotted it down, he flipped the page and wrote down another note before ripping it off and closing the book. “Take this to F1NN and call your guardian for pick up. Loitering on public property, and willful ignorance to assault and battery.”

Dream stood up and pushed his chair in. “Not gonna walk me there?”

“We’ve been here enough times,” Captain Craft sighed. “Best behaviour?”

“Of course.”

Captain Craft cut open Dream’s zip ties and sent him on his way.

Dream gave the note to F1NN and was given the phone in return; like clockwork these visits were. That was a bad thing wasn’t it?

After two rings Bad picked up his phone. “Hello?”

“Hi Bad, it’s Dream.”

“Tubbo just left,” he said as if he knew exactly what Dream would have wanted from him. “Techno just came by to pick him up.”

“That’s ‘cause I told him to,” Dream explained. “The three of us got picked up by the police, think you could bring us home?”

Bad could be heard moving around the apartment, and he heard the clinking of keys. “I’m on my way. Anything I need to know?”

“George and Sapnap will probably be calling you, once they’re finished with their interviews.”

Half an hour later Sapnap was sitting shotgun in his dad’s car, while Dream and George chilled in the backseat of the car. The first stop of the night was Punz’s house, so they could pick Tubbo up, before dropping Dream off at home.

Bad parked on the driveway, and Dream got out of the car. He walked up to the front and used his spare key to get in.

It’s quiet, and too early for the fourteen year olds to be asleep. Tubbo and Purpled are good friends, they had been since childhood; getting dropped off at Bad-Halo’s-Unofficial-Daycare-for-the-Siblings-of-Petty-Criminals-and-Their-(Count-‘Em)-One-Normal-Friend did that to friendships. They should have been playing around here somewhere.

Dream stalked around the house looking for clues as to where they might have gone. It was in the kitchen that he found a note.

“Purpled went out. Didn’t want to be here alone. Went to Ranboo’s.”

Dream grabbed the note and groaned in frustration, all this way for nothing? He checked his phone. Nope, Tubbo hadn’t even sent a text message. He left the house--making sure to lock the door behind him--in a huff.

Opening the car door, he slid in, exhaling loudly. “Punz wasn’t home. Purpled’s gone. Note saying Tubbo went to Ranboo’s. I’ll just bus home from your place. Think Techno left my bag with you.”

“He did. I noticed it on my way out.” Bad pulled out of Punz’s driveway. “Why don’t you stay the night?”

“I would, but you know Ranboo’s parents. If they find Tubbo there, they’ll kick him out, and I’d rather be in the apartment if he has to come back.”

Bad nodded. “I’ll drive you and George back to your places then.”

“Actually, Bad?” George interjected quietly. “Can I crash at your place? Mom’s been a lot this week already and they got our picture. Think we’re gonna be in the news again.”

Bad sighed. “You’re ruining your future. How will you get into university with those articles?”

“Good grades and scholarships,” Sapnap said.

Bad laughed. “Of course you can stay the night.”

#Dreamwastaken #Sapnap #Georgenotfound #Badboyhalo #Philza #These Streets Are Made For Walking

[sassysatsuma]

Skeleton - Midnight

[I wrote this between 1am and 4am, so have pity on me. Also, you know that it is totally inspired by this song. Fingers crossed you like it! :)] 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Midnight on the Wards looks just like any other time really.

There's the distant thrum of speeder engines vibratingthrough the air, producing a soft bassline which is punctuated with the oddhigh pitched wail of a siren. The apartment below her is having some kind of party,techno music rumbling out softly beneath her feet. Somewhere on the street,there's two asari laughing, tearing along the walkway whilst a hapless turianfollows, begging them to slow down. It's a lot like back home on Earth in itsway, except more vibrant and alive somehow. So many different species andcultures all bound together in one big but confined space.

Half the world is sleeping, the other half is partying andfucking living. Lara herself iscaught somewhere in between.

She'd woken up in a cold sweat, her nightshirt clinging toher body in all the wrong places, restrictive and oppressive. Sometimes shesleeps soundly, lost to the world in a perfect, dreamless slumber. Most nightshowever, she dreams of the people she's killed and the ones that have almostkilled her. She remembers the feeling of fire scorching past her armour andinto her skin, the explosion that sent her tumbling to the ground, bioticbarrier weak and barely strong enough to protect her. She remembers the face ofher best friend, pale and lifeless. The one man she'd risked everything to saveand yet still somehow managed to fail.

She remembers everything that N7 made her become andeverything they forced her to lose.

It’s always a losing battle trying to force sleep on nightslike these. Instead, she'd showered and allowed herself a little pampering,padding around her apartment wrapped in a towel for far longer than she'dnormally have time to. Dressed in her favourite sweatpants, faded Academy tshirt and a woollen cardigan that is so big it almost wraps twice around herframe, she’d fixed herself a sizeable mug of tea, sloshing in a good dash ofwhisky for good measure.

Now, she's out on her balcony, looking out over thetwinkling, multicoloured lights of the Wards. There's an artificial breeze thatbrushes across her face, but it’s hardly unpleasant, as close to fresh air as aperson could get living on an oversized space station like the Citadel.

- You awake? -

Her omnitool buzzes into life, disturbing her sense of calmentirely. Lazily, Lara flicks her wrist, scrolling through the virtualinterface to open up the message. She resists the urge to smile when she readshis name, but there's no escaping the way her stomach jumps a little.

A short conversation and a matter of minutes later, SimonRiley is striding as confidently as ever into her apartment.

"Shit, Bones... A fucking penthouse?!" She doubtsthat she's ever heard him sound so impressed as he steps out onto the balconyto join her. As ever he's dressed all in black, although he's gained a blackeye since the last time she'd seen him, a large purple and brown bruisecircling his right eye.

"All Alliance property, I'm afraid." She sighsnonchalant, sipping at her tea and definitely not noticing the way the dark,swirling tattoos littering his arms flex as he shrugs off his jacket and tossesit onto a nearby chair. Shifting her gaze to the cityscape ahead, she sees himmove into her peripheral vision as he leans on the railing beside her, theirarms close, but not touching.

"Maybe I jumped ship too soon after all."

"It comes with a lot of strings." She pauses,reluctant to return to the emotions that had led her here. Instead she takesanother long sip of her tea and turns to face the man to her left, her rightelbow still leaning against the railing. "Bit late for a house call though,isn't it, Riley?"

"Says the woman who let me in? My ship touched down acouple of hours ago. I headed to Chora's, but it was the same old fuckingfaces, so I figured that I'd message the one face that I actually wouldn't mindseeing." He reaches out, his fingers gently tugging at the woollenmaterial covering her tricep. "Didn't exactly expect to waltz in and findyou in your Granny pyjamas though."

"My sexy lingerie is at the dry cleaners."

"Right now, I'd be grateful for any kind oflingerie."

"Sucks to be you then, doesn't it?" Lara fixes himwith a smug smirk of her own. "You asked if you could come see me. I neverpromised to be in a state of undress."

"Bloke's allowed to dream, isn't he?" Rileyteases, pushing off from the railway. "C'mon then. Get a decent drink inmy hand and then you can bore me all you like with what you've been up to thepast three weeks, yeah?"

Lara wasn't sure when Riley had slipped past her defensesand into friendship territory, but pretending it never happened was a pointlessat this point. They were so different, driven by entirely different moralities,or so she had first thought. She'd written him off as a lowlife mercenary,willing to kill whoever necessary for the right price. That had downrightdisgusted her at the start, if she was being honest.

Trouble was, that wasn't who he was. He was a mercenaryalright, raw and brutal and unwilling to lift a finger unless there was atleast something in it for him. But he didn't accept every contract, wasn'twilling to lend his services to slavers just because they paid the highestprice. Hell, Lara had ended up holding his corner in a street fight with agroup of potential "investors" who just couldn't take no for ananswer.

There was more to Riley than he wanted the world to believe andthat was what kept her hooked. She'd see flashes of it once in a while, cracksin his armour that he either didn't notice or hoped she'd be too blind to see.It might just be a single sentence, or a gesture every once in a while, but itwas enough to tell Lara that no matter what she had thought about him at thestart, she might have misjudged Simon Riley after all.

There were other emotions there too and truth be told, Laratried her hardest to push them back most days. At times when she felt as far aspossible from her family and friends, Riley was often a friend who understoodher, a zero judgement drinking partner who seemed to see the pain driving herto drink away her sorrows and know enough not to mention it. He had been anescape of sorts, one that she had indulged in a little too deeply in a momentof drunken vulnerability. They hadn't slept together, far from it in fact, butshe distinctly could remember pressing him up against an alleyway wall outsideChora's Den, her biotics pulsing through her skin as they'd made out like acouple of teenagers. Riley had promised back then that she wouldn't be able tostay away forever, whilst Lara had invested all of her energy into making sureit never happened again.

Until now of course, when she's sitting on her living roomfloor, back pressed against one of the couches. She's filled with the warmth ofthe whisky they've shared, her cardigan long discarded in a clumsy pile besideher. Opposite, Riley sits legs outstretched, his back resting against anarmchair. His face is set in a smile, dark eyes watching her in a way she can'tquite decipher.

 "So... where'd you get the shiner?" Her wordspunctuate the comfortable silence around them and she takes another sip of herdrink, savouring the slow burn at the back of her throat.

"Defending the honour of a school bus full of kids,obviously."

"Bullshit. Schoolkids don't pay enough."

"Ouch." He laughs, soft lines crinkling at thecorner of his eyes. Lara has given up trying to tell herself that he isn'thandsome at this point. "Some bloke just got a lucky shot in, nothing moreto it than that."

"I hope you made him regret it."

"That your way of telling me you care, Bones?" Heraises an eyebrow, that self satisfied smirk that is damn near characteristicof him now pushing across his features.

"Please. I'm just too lazy to find myself anotherdrinking buddy."

"Uh huh."She knows that the arrogant bastard doesn't believe her for a second."Y'know, while I was away, there was this asari bird in the crew I wasrunning with. Had a mean singularity that could crush its way through anyfucking armour. She was fuckin' beautiful, knew it too. Half the crew werepractically creaming themselves whenever she was around."

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because even with that kind of grade A distractionparading around in front of my face, I barely fucking noticed." He shrugs,placing his whisky glass down on the coffee table with a gentleness that shedidn't know he possessed. "... Even when there's this fuckin'... asari sexgoddess right there... I'm still hung up on this Alliance bird who can't seemto decide if I disgust her or not."

Well shit.

Suddenly the whisky wasn't the only thing making her feelwarm. For a second, Lara pauses, lost in the meaning of what he's trying tosay. She feels displaced, the jolt from gentle teasing and joking to somethinga little more serious making her head spin. She's known for a long while thatRiley found her attractive, but up until now she'd always assumed that he sawher as a conquest, a box to tick, another notch to add to his bed post. She'snever actually considered that he might value her... more than that?

"... It's you, Lara."

"And I'm not looking for a one-night deal."

"If I was looking for that I would have tried my luckwith the sex goddess." A smile,thank God. Lara feels a soft laugh escape her lips, grateful for his joke.She watches him carefully as he sits up, crawling towards her until all thatseparates them are a few inches. He reaches out, with fingers that trace up theside of her neck and come to rest just beneath her jaw. "Look... I'm notexactly proposing marriage, Bones. But, I like you. Give me some credit here,yeah?"

Lara entertains every response imaginable in that moment.She considers making a bad joke, thinks about teasing him with the fact thatshe'd likely never dare trust him with her credits. She toys even with the ideaof pulling away, of giving herself space and time for the rational, overlycautious part of her brain to dream up some more reasons about why she shouldstill hold Riley at arm’s length.

 But it all means nothing when she leans just that little bitcloser and presses her lips against his.

She's done being afraid.

The kiss is slower than what they've shared before, but itstill has the same intensity. Riley kisses her back immediately, the hand onher jaw moving to cup the entire side of her face, whilst his other hand movesto her shoulder. Their mouths fall into a quick rhythm, open mouthed kissesfuelling them onwards as their bodies press closer. Lara's hands wind upunderneath Riley's shirt, her fingers slipping across a back littered withscars whilst he sucks at her bottom lip. She lets out a gentle gasp, feels himsmirk against her skin as he ducks his head lower, kissing and sucking at herneck in way that promises plenty of purple bruises of her own in the morning.

As he pushes her backwards, lifting her t shirt so that hecan press feverish kisses to her abdomen, Lara finds herself trusting him morethan she'd ever imagined possible. Somehow, in this moment, she is allowing himto be utterly in control, an alien feeling that brings with it a deep sense ofcomfort.

It doesn't matter who she thought Simon Riley was. Doesn'tmatter if he's running from a past just as dark as hers. It doesn't matter thathe's a mercenary and she's a soldier, that in her heart she knows that he issupposed to represent everything she's been taught to despise. Because, despiteit all, Lara likes Riley. Trusts him. Cares about him as the friend he hasshown himself to be. The man that deep down, she knows that he is.

She's spent over a decade in service to the Alliance, mouldingher life around its every demand and whim. Living by its morals, shapingherself to represent the ideal that it presented to all of its recruits. Andyet in the end, the Alliance chewed her up and robbed her of everything thathad truly mattered.

There's no way in hell she's letting anyone rob her of this.Least of all herself.

#sass pretends to be a writer #drabble meme #skeleton #lara/riley #mass effect/call of duty crossover #my writing #smashinterrupted