#peraltiago oneshot

[letsperaltiago]

did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room? |jake x amy|

Some canon-compliant early relationship fluff (aka. one of my all time fave tropes) for you all :') And yes that hand-holding-article is real ahah. Prompt: "you can kiss me, you know." + "don’t mind me. just enjoying the view. " Words: 3.3k Rated: G

Leaving Shaw’s, she’d intended to stay away; the bar, the precinct, the mess, just everything, was to be left behind. Between depressing messages of hope, Yoghurt-mourning speeches, and then Jake’s… weird but also very sweet declaration of intentions on stage, it’d all been a tad too much for her. Primarily the latter. Jake. Gosh, if there was one thing she wanted more than anything it was to be with him. Easily and simply. Alas, the Vulture made it more than hard: impossible. How could she accept Jake be demoted for her? A girl he’d dated for 6 six days. Sure, there’d been almost two years of mutual, however staggered, idiotic pining which gave their new thing, relationship, whatever it was, some sort of emotional precedence, but still it seemed irrational and unnecessary that she’d have to cost him his dream job. No way. Not on her watch. 

Which is exactly why she’d fled the scene. Not because of Jake telling her (and every other mourner in the bar) that six days together had been enough for him to know that they had something special, and that he wouldn’t give up on them because all he cared about was being with her. See that actually made her blush like a school girl, a flock of butterflies set free in her belly in the best and most horrible way at the same time, because that was probably when she really realized how serious Jake was about them… about her. It scared her. How did Jake Childman Peralta go from being her annoying colleague to suddenly showing, even publicly declaring (officially to his dead boss, that is) that he cared more about her than his own dream? It scared the hell out of her but in a good kind of way. Scary with Jake somehow felt good, and if it wasn’t for their dirtbag of a boss she’d been grabbing Jake’s hand and jumped off whatever cliff she and Jake were currently standing on. 

Dead end. That’s what they were. She could see it in his eyes as he approached her with careful steps, catching her in the midst of packing her things. The hopelessness of the situation, their very own Gordian knot, sucked the courage out of his otherwise always bold and bright eyes as he confessed to being all out of plans and didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t a lot he got to say before Captain Holt had interrupted their despairing deliberation. Nevertheless, unmistakably and clear as day, it was all she needed to know and deep down already knew: Jake really cared about her and she about him… even more than she’d initially admitted to her still somewhat apprehensive self. 

After getting their asses saved, quote Holt himself, Amy saw the light and liveliness instantly come back to Jake’s eyes, the darkest dreadful brown shadows of his irises driven away by gleeful hazelly highlights. Having previously felt as if she was the Greek titan Atlas carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, now knowing that nothing would stand in the way of them being together, the immense weight melted away in an instance. If Holt hadn’t been there and they weren’t in the middle of a buzzing precinct, she would’ve jumped into Jake’s arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Relief rushed through her veins, her blood circulating in a surge that reminded her that this was what feeling alive truly felt like. It could in no world, past life or parallel universe be wrong to be with Jake if it made her feel like this. 

It was safe to say that Holt had already had his fair share of drama and drinks that day. Thus, after giving the two a nod and discrete look of delight (which by Holt-standards was equal to a blinding smile), he bid them a rest of the evening and trotted off to get a cab home to Kevin and Cheddar. 

Then there was two. Just the two of them. 

Jake turned to look at her, offering her thoughtful eyes and an amused smirk which let her know he had something in mind. She didn’t care what. Not in the sense that she didn’t care about what he was thinking; in the sense that he could tell her anything, as  lame, crazy, boring, weird or whatever it might be, and she would gladly listen. 

“Bar?”

“Definitely,” she grinned back, forgetting how she had cursed that place just 30 minutes ago. Amused and damning her blood for so shamelessly running to and ehancing her cheeks everytime he as much as looked her way. Before she could reach for her bag, he’d beat her to it and held the black leather tote by its long handles. His arm and hand came to the perfect length, she thought eyeing how the bag hung just two inches above the ground. 

“C’mon,” he uttered, playfully hitting her knee with her bag, then reaching out for her hand with his free one. The skin was soft, warm, perhaps even alien still but in way in which she couldn’t wait for it to feel familiar. His hand held hers, his palm facing downwards into hers, and this very specific article she’d once read in a women’s magazine about what different kinds of handholding meant popped into her mind. This kind of handhold, palm against palm, fingers wrapped around the other’s hand, was often a protective handhold where the person whose palm faced downward had the protective role. It was silly, she knew, but right then as he towed her with him into the now dark streets of Brooklyn, she liked the thought of it being true. 

Consequently, the recent return of good news brought them back to scene they’d fled from just 30 minutes ago. The bar was still crowded, mostly occupied by half-drunk officers and higher ranked officials, and the doomsday atmosphere from earlier had disappeared along with Dozermanns framed picture and the mic - which was probably for the best, Amy thought as they made their way to the bar to place their orders. 

“Beer?” he leaned against the bar.

“Beer,” she confirmed back, copying his pose and smiling at the sight of him carefully placing her bag on the stool next to him, keeping on hand on top of it meanwhile the other was used to signal two fingers. 

“Two beers, Hank.”

Hank nodded in approval. 

“I’ll just put my bag in the car, Jake. It’s annoying to have to look after it.” 

His head snapped to look at her. 

“It’s really no problem, Ames. Really.” He smiled softly and patted the soft, black leather. 

“You’re cute.” Gosh, he really was. Especially standing there in his nice uniform, handsome features highlighted by the glow of the bar’s twinkle lights. It sometimes rushed over her like a tidal wave just how cute he was and, honestly,  it made her head spin a little. “But I’ll put it in the car.” 

She grabbed one of the straps, about to pull, however Jake was quicker grabbing the other. Suddenly stuck in a tug-of-war of sorts, each their own strap with the rest of the bag dangling in the middle. Their eyes locked in with the others. She cocked a dark eyebrow challenging his actions. Jake on his side didn’t speak up and simply kept looking at her, eyes shining with mischief, a certain warmth and dreamy enchantment she wasn’t quite used to handling yet. Thus they stood there, neither of them letting go nor saying anything, one second after the other passing by as the sound of clinking glasses, laughter, music, and popped bottles subdued. Somehow, to her, it was just the two of them at that moment.

“What are you doing?” she chuckled, never letting her eyes slip from his.

For a moment he said nothing, simply keeping his eyes entangled with hers, shining with something so strong it had her blush coming right back to her cheeks - or had it ever really left? How could a couple of brown eyes, a pair he’d known for so long and looked into a million times before, shake her to her core like they did now? 

“Don’t mind me - just enjoying the view." He broke his silence. Distracted by the newfound charming smirk plastered on his face (the kind where it was mostly one corner doing the smiling while the other curled playfully) she failed to pay attention to anything else, and to her surprise, she suddenly felt a strong tug on the strap in her hand. Being taken off guard of course resulted in her body being roughly drawn across the space between the two, and she couldn’t tell if it was his plan. Whether or not it was, she, as a result of the sudden tug, felt her chest bump into his. If it hadn’t been for their reflexes telling their necks to yield back to avoid their heads bumping together, bleeding noses would definitely have been served. Instead, chins tugged bak from the yielding, they found themself inches from being nose tip to nose tip. His hands had instinctively flown to grab her hips to save her from tumbling further, and Amy could feel her breath hitch in her throat, taken back by the sudden move and the sudden proximity between them. It was when she was about to look at him and tell him off with a stupid, awkward joke that he noticed his lightly agape mouth and eyes drifting down to admire her lips. So close. They were so close, his always minty breath touching her face. 

Her cheeks must’ve been fiery red by now. How had she ever gone so long without giving in to him when her body reacted so strongly to his presence? 

She’d been pretty sure he didn’t do it consciously, however, still, she became even more aware of their very suddenly intimate position once his thumb slowly swept across her hipbone 

Yup, now she was definitely blushing. Speechless too, which was silly because, during the little less than a week they’d been dating, he’d been doing his fair share of shameless flirting and touching. Yes, that had mostly been in the privacy of either of their apartments. Never out in public amongst their peers which perhaps must’ve had him panicking a bit on the inside. From the look in his eyes she could tell the very exact moment he realized that a flirtatious punchline had slid right off his tongue and into the open air of what could be considered a work event. They’d talked a lot, like a lot, about worries, conserving mixing pleasure and business, pro-fer-sonal, as Jake liked to call it. It was mostly her worrying: she didn’t wanna risk getting in trouble or sabotaging her life-plan with any missteps. Even though he loved teasing her about it, he also respected it, which was now obviously showing on his face. His previously so mischievous smile was replaced by a nervous biting of his lips, a wistful gaze transformed into nervousness, and she could tell he was recalculating everything in his mind at a million miles per hour - or at least trying to. He was without a doubt trying to figure out if he’d crossed a line, and, if so, how he’d undo it.

Any other day in the past she would’ve probably turned to the easy solution: playfully pushed him off and hit him with a tongue-in-cheek comment. Today felt different. After spending a week holding their breaths and walking on eggshells around the Vulture, questioning everything they felt and had now finally given in, it’d feel so wrong to play it off cool and collected, acting as if they weren’t together because… they were. They were finally together for real; it’s what they’d been fighting for so long. Both each had their own respective battles but also their collective battle against the Vulture which only proved that they’re the best team. In more than just the professional way now, and this she had to allow herself to give in to. 

She heard hin swallow nervously, eyes switching between the ground, her eyes, and her lips. Around them, no one seemed to notice. The two of them. This was just the two of them, Amy reminded herself, and that was all that mattered. 

“You can kiss me, you know?” Tumbled out of her before she could overthink and regret it, which must’ve taken both herself and Jake by surprise. His before fly-swallowing gaping lips shut like a mousetrap and finally, she felt his eyes focus on hers once more. No constant moving, nothing, just his eyes looking into hers. Thump, she heard, as he let her bag fall to the ground. Strong fingers dug into the flesh of her hips with newfound confidence and she could tell that he finally hit that “screw this”-realization as well. He leaned in, covering the tiny bit of remaining space between them, and even then, just her luck, she could see his lips curl back into a smile.

“Oh yeah,” he cocked his eyebrows. “Lucky me,” he whispered just so he could feel lips ghosting against her before he, finally, drew her in entirely and welcomed her lips with his. As if they hadn’t already done a good amount of kissing, they were sucked into a tiny bubble of their own where nothing nor no one mattered. Their lips danced perfectly in sync, shifting between drawing in and fighting for dominance, to a melody that couldn’t be heard but could instead be felt. In that very moment, upon raising herself to stand on the tip of her toes and slide her hands around his neck, Amy had never been happier. Even in a crowded bar of colleagues and superiors, she couldn’t care less what people thought. For so long she’d yearned to know what Jake Peralta what feel and taste like, and now she could finally explore it whenever she wanted. For how long they stood like that, her bag thrown to the ground, his hands on her waist, her hands stroking his neck, she had no idea. It was slow, sweet, caring, nothing urgent or inappropriate, everything she needed and wanted. Each kiss was its own little earthquake. 

Sure, they did suffer some teasing, cat calling and whistling from their friends once they found them in a booth in the back corner of the bar. Knowing it was all with good intentions, they laughed it off, and for once, rather than it being Amy, it was Jake’s cheeks showing fifty shades of red. The evening proceeded as always, but better, Amy thought, as they played footsies under the table as Boyle told some absurd cuisine-related story. Two hours later she felt equally happy when leaving Rosa and Charles behind at the bar, not a single care in the world-like, as they made their way to her car parked in the precinct garage. They were joking, laughing at some lame joke he’d pulled out of thin air when suddenly he halted.

“Ames, your bag?”

“My bag?” she frowned at him when suddenly she realized that neither she nor he carried it. “Oh sh-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s probably still in the booth. Go ahead to the car and I’ll meet you there. Okay?” ” He smiled, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Her eyes softened as she offered him a thankful smile back. How did she get so lucky?

“Thank you.”

 All Amy could do was smile to herself as she watched him jog back to the bar. She even found herself standing there for a moment after he’d disappeared into the dark, wondering just how she ever lived a life without this version of Jake Peralta in her life. Once reached her car, leaning against the side of it to wait, she took out her phone and gave into the mindnumbing act of scrolling through whatever social media timeline was the hype then and there. That’s when a text notification at the top of her screen caught her eye. 

Rosa Diaz: jake overheard a group of beat cops talking about you guys. he stomped out of the bar like an angry child lol 

Amy frowned at the message. What was going on and where was Jake? She wasn’t left wondering for too long. The sound of steps came closer, fast, and she just barely managed to recognize Jake’s figure before he’d dropped her bag on the ground next to her and pulled her into a kiss. Not just any kiss. A deep, warm, pushed-up-against-the-side of-her car-kind of kiss that had her toes curled in her uniform shoes. He didn’t seem angry or any kind of mood to worry about, however, something had definitely added some kind of fuel to his fire. The garage was dead silent, only the increasing intensity and loudness of their breathing could be heard. Amy felt swept off her feet, caught in a perfect storm where his body was the hurricane and their lips battled in the eye of it. Hands on her waist, feeling and stroking it with care, nails and fingers caught in his brown locks. She smiled and she felt him smile back, even though the intensity and lust of the moment. Deep down he’d always be a big softie. 

He pulled back a bit, breaking them apart, only to gaze into her eye with awe and admiration as if they hadn’t just spent the last couple of days being together. There was admiration, lust, and warmth, shining in them. Somehow the kiss had felt like a milestone, some sort of first kiss, in a way she couldn’t quite put a finger on. 

“You okay?” she whispered smiling, bopping the tip of his nose with her own in comfort. “Rosa texted me saying you stomped off.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she could tell he felt embarrassed. 

“Nothing.”

“That kiss wasn’t nothing, Peralta.” She teased with a grin. 

“It was really good, huh? Our first kiss as a non-threatened and non-soon-to-be-extinct couple.” Two could play that game. 

“Wow, so dark... and yes, it definitely was really good. Not gonna lie.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “But tell me what it was all about.”

“It was all about me being grossly obsessed with you.” He grinned and jabbed the sides of her waist, causing her to jump and giggle, caught in between his arms and the car. 

“Jake,” she scolded softly, impossible to help it when her smile stayed stuck on her face. 

He sighed, removing one hand from the side of her car to rub her forehead. “It was nothing, really. Just overheard some clowns talk about how bummed they were to find out that I’d … and I quote, “won you over by sheer luck”.” 

Oh… so people had noticed them, huh? Expecting herself to panic, overthinking what people would say or think, Amy was surprised by how calm and rather amused she felt upon hearing what had happened. It was as if it didn’t matter anymore. They were together, after all. 

“Oh, okay,” she nodded, not knowing what to say. Was he mad? Annoyed? Was she supposed to comment on it? 

“So I…” he bit his lip, pausing to think, “I just wanted to get back to you and really appreciate the luck that got me here.” The smile on his face was back, all restrains and tension about the situation, which he knew was more than silly, melted away. “Like wow, I just had to get back to you and appreciate how I get to just… kiss you whenever and wherever? And get to have these fans slash beat cops cheering us on?”

He smirked proudly and all Amy could do was laugh.  “You really are the lucky one, huh?” 

“I am, Ames. I really am. Also, so sorry for just jumping you. Should’ve thought that through - Brooklyn after dark isn’t exactly a safe haven.” 

“Don’t worry.” She smirked as she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him into her, leaning her back against the car. Lips just far enough apart to not touch, she whispered “We’re both the lucky ones - that’s all that matters, Peralta.”

[fandomsarefriends-notfood]

Is this a Masterlist?

I guess it is. I have a few fics published on Ao3, and figured I should link them here. This is the link and a brief summary of them, I hope you like them!

You’re It - Harry Potter: The Marauder's last thoughts as they die

Paris Sounds Lovely - Harry Potter: Post - Canon, Harry and Ginny make a bet with Ron and Hermione

If I told you how this story ended (would you still read it?) - Percy Jackson: Sad Percabeth one-shot

What it means to be a Woman - Percy Jackson: Sally reflects on abuse and how it ties into the lives of all women

Young and Free - Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Peraltiago High School AU based on the prompts by @peralta-guaranteed 

When all is lost (then all is found) - Marvel Cinematic Universe: Laura Barton’s POV during the Blip/Post Endgame 

Man lives his life (and woman plays her role) - Marvel Cinematic Universe: Natasha's complex relationship with men throughout her life

Where the love light gleams - Marvel Cinematic Universe:  A short piece taking place on Christmas morning at the Barton's

Butterfly steps - The Land of Stories: Conner and Bree head out to prom, based on a prompt

Only the sweetest words remain - The Land of Stories: A collection of Breelex drabbles from A-Z

[amyscascadingtabs]

i know harry potter has its issues and all but god i love it so much

[nowhxreboy]

Y’all still taking Jake Peralta requests? And if so, is angst ok?

Jake Peralta angst request #1

thankyou so much for leaving the request. I hope you like it. If you want to request something else in the future I will happily do it. Sorry it’s not very long and sorry it took a while I’m the CEO of procrastination. however I hope you enjoy it !! :)

918 words

tw- anxiety, panic, trauma, violence

It was hard for Jake to readjust after prison. Everyone and everything seemed so hostile and threatening. The smallest things brought him back to prison. Back to the tiny, suffocating cell and the taste of blood. The nauseating scent and the searing, constant, ache in his chest because he missed Amy so much. When he was in prison, Jake missed everything about his life before. Even the paperwork. All he wanted was to be back on the streets of New York, chasing and catching bad guys. But instead it was as though he was one of the bad guys.

It was coming up to a year since Jake regained his freedom but the memories still haunted him. They clung to him like heavy chains constricting everything. Almost every night Jake woke up, soaked in sweat and teary eyed. Jake was amazed by Amy. She was always there to make him feel better, safer, and grounded. It made Jake feel terrible that he kept Amy up at night. She kept insisting it was fine but that didn’t stop the gnawing guilt in the pit of his stomach.

Despite this, Jake got up and went to work each day. But nothing was the same. No one could pinpoint exactly what it was but the old, pre prison Jake was long gone. There was so much more going on in Jake’s head, inner battles and wars that never seemed to end.

Jake was at his desk at the nine nine when one of the perps in the holding cell yelled and began banging on the bars. The sound echoed around Jake’s head and he felt fear wash over his body. It reminded him of the nights in prison when frustrated, scared inmates would cry out from inside their cells. It also reminded him of the awakening given to him by the warden. Jake hated waking up in prison. Because for a second he forgot where he was then it would suddenly flood back and the reality of where Jake was would set in once more.

He got shakily to his feet and made his began walking, it was suddenly too loud to stay in the bullpen. The light was too bright and everything was too much. His eyes darted around the room, looking for possible threats.

Jake collided with Charles on his way across the bullpen.

“Woah Jakey” Charles said, jokingly as a smile spread across his face.

“Sorry” Jake said bluntly, anxiety blocking his ability to have a conversation.

Amy watched Jake’s back as he walked quickly away. He’d gone too fast for her to ask him if he was okay. He seemed anxious. She considered leaving him be but also couldn’t bear the thought of him being alone. Amy opened the drawer of his desk and fished out his inhaler. It was a possibility he might’ve needed it.

Jake got into the corner of the evidence locker and slid down into a sitting position. He brought his knees up to his face and buried his head in his hands. His heart raced and his breaths accelerated. All he could think of was the guards and the fellow prisoners and how they threatened and beat him up almost daily for no reason. He was so helpless. Jake didn’t do well in prison fights. Fear usually overtook him before he could even think of fighting back. Jake’s body was scattered with scars as a result of prison brutality.

The image of a fellow inmate of Jake’s flashed up in his mind. Jake remembered the threats he received from him. So violent and detailed. The thought of him hunting Jake down and acting out his threat began to grow and spiral. Jake was finding it hard to even breath at this point.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, cop” Jake reminisced the inmate saying.

“Once I get my hands on you you’re gonna wish you’re dead”

Jake tried to forget. He really did. But he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Jake could hear footsteps coming toward him. His panic accelerated.

Amy could hear Jake’s quiet whimpers from the hallway outside. She walked in to see Jake curled up. His eyes were tightly shut and he looked pale. Amy’s heart broke at the sight of him. He looked so vulnerable and terrified. She sat beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. The touch felt comforting but he couldn’t stop shaking. He tried to snap his eyes open but he was too afraid.

“nonono” he whimpered, still not looking up. “don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me”

“Jake” Amy said softly. “It’s me, Amy. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

“Amy” Jake repeated. “You’re here”

“of course I am” Amy continued

Jake began sobbing at this point. Amy rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him, feeling the jerking of his back muscles with each sob.

“It’s okay Jake, it’s going to be okay” Amy told him.

“Why me?” Jake said eventually, his voice was sore and small.

“What do you mean babe?” Amy asked.

“You could have anyone and you chose me” Jake said.

“I love you, Jake” Amy told him, running her hand through his hair.

Jake felt like he should be the one protecting Amy. Comforting her. However she was the one protecting and comforting him. They remained in the same position for a while, holding each other. Jake was finally starting to relax. He looked up at Amy and a smile stretched across his face.

[nopostonsundays]

The wheels on the bus go round and round

By: peraltiagoisland

Summary: Every day for the past three years, Amy takes the same bus (where she sees only the same six people from time to time, seven if she's counting the bus captain) to and from work in her job as a high school history teacher that she hates. She regrets the day she left the academy whenever things get too overwhelming, and even when things are perfectly fine, but just feel too predictable and boring. Enter: Jake Peralta, who makes every bus ride feel like a rollercoaster. Because it always ends too quickly and she never wants it to stop. Also, she feels incredibly giddy the whole time.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367817

What a beautiful alternate start to Peraltiago’s story - worth a read while you’re staying at home to keep everyone safe! 

[fandom-fic-rec]

and the bells are ringing out

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Ratings: Teen

Warnings: Hostage Situations

Relationship: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago

Characters: Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, OMC

Summary

Jake Peralta is sitting in the interrogation room.

It’s strange, Amy thinks as she watches him through the glass. They’ve probably been in this same position at least three dozen times before - her on this side, him on that one - but never once has she been quite this anxious. Never once has he seemed quite so frail.

Never once has he tended to his own minor wounds, or held his own ice pack to his bruised and swollen eye, or watched the door with as much quiet intensity.

Never once has he been a victim.

Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745324#main

[boopernatural]

I have a peraltiago fluff idea but I feel like it’s unoriginal and people are bored of reading fluff oneshots…

[eebius-deebius]

ATTENTION ALL PERALTIAGO SHIPPERS:

Are you looking for a oneshot about your b99 otp?

Do you want fluff and soft domestic moments between these lovebirds?

With a nice sprinkling of humour?

GO READ ‘And I Don't Know Why, but with You I'd Dance in a Storm in My Best Dress, Fearless’

BY nontrivialproof ON AO3!

It’s just,,,,,so cute? And sweet? And beautiful? I love it so much

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489561/chapters/12683291?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_511868890

[detectivesantiagostyle-blog]

You are the best thing that’s ever been mine

/Because thinking about Jake in prison hurts so I added some Taylor Swift to lighten the mood/

It took Detective Amy Santiago just under ten minutes on her first day at the 99th Precinct to learn three things about her new partner, Detective Jake Peralta. One, he was devastatingly disorganised, two, he was sure he was Brooklyn’s best detective (it took her two weeks to begrudgingly begin to agree) and three, he adored Taylor Swift. Yes, adored. Not tolerated, not enjoyed, not secretly sang in the shower, but adored. Like most things with Jake, she rolled her eyes and assumed he would eventually grow out of it.

Many years later Jake was slightly more organised, slightly more humble, but still utterly infatuated with Taylor Swift. A lot had changed in the years in between – Amy and Jake had travelled from reluctant partners to successful partners, and eventually from friends to so much more. Jake had grown and developed in ways Amy couldn’t have predicted: putting others first, relying on his team, expressing his feelings honestly…but he still loved Taylor Swift and Amy had given up hope on ever shifting him. So she smiled and rolled her eyes and sang along to Fearless in the car and bought him concert tickets for his birthday and accepted that loving the only thirty-something male in the queue for 1989 was just part of her life now.

Besides, Amy had bigger problems now. There’s something about seeing the love of your life and one of your best friends framed for crimes they didn’t commit and sentenced to 15 years in prison that makes everything else fade away. And it hurts. It hurts more than she ever thought anything could. It hurts when she can’t quite crack a difficult case and Jake isn’t sitting opposite her, smirking as if it’s the easiest puzzle imaginable. It hurts when she comes home after a long day to an empty apartment and sees the piled-up cardboard boxes of Jake’s possessions which he never got the chance to unpack. It hurts when she visits him and barely recognises the shell of a man sat in front of her, with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes and a laugh that sounds like someone who hasn’t quite mastered their Jake Peralta impression.

One evening it all just gets too much. Another dead end on a possible lead against Hawkins, a frustrating case she just can’t seem to close, a visit to Jake that seems too long and yet not nearly long enough at the same time. On one hand, the second she enters that hideous building Amy can’t wait to leave. She hates it – the grim efficiency of the guards, the bleak sterility of their surroundings, the dead look in Jake’s eyes and the hollowed cheeks that give away how little he’s coping. But at the same time, these visits are the highlights of her week – seeing Jake alive, breathing, real, means everything to Amy and having to walk away and leave him there kills her. The second Amy gets home the floodgates break and she sobs, not quite sure why. It wasn’t a bad visit – there’s been plenty of those over the last few months. They’ve had angry visits where, without meaning to, they’ve turned on each other, just needing to unleash some frustration but bitterly regretting it after. There’s also been awkward visits – times where Amy and Jake have been so overwhelmed by everything they feel and think that nothing comes out and they sit in silence, or worse, chat about meaningless rubbish until she has to come home and scream. But this was none of those – and that’s the worst bit. It was a good visit, a visit where, for the first time in far too long, Jake smiled, like really truly smiled, and even (dare she say) giggled and Amy felt her heart break all over again.

And, of course, she’s absolutely head-over-heels delighted to see him smile and laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds, but she’s also devastatingly heartbroken because Jake’s smile and Jake’s laugh don’t belong in that cold, brutal place, they belong at the nine-nine or at home with her. And, although if anyone were ever to ask she’d 100% deny it, she’s a tiny tiny bit pissed off at what it was that finally made him crack a real smile. It wasn’t the overwhelming joy of seeing the love of his life walk through the door, it wasn’t hearing her tell him that she loved him and would never stop fighting, it wasn’t even adorable stories about baby Enigma Linetti (who was objectively the cutest baby in the entire world). The one thing that finally reached her ridiculous, mid-thirties, NYPD detective boyfriend was the fact that Amy accidentally quoted a Taylor Swift lyric in the middle of a sentence. Seriously.

They’d been discussing Jake and Rosa’s case, poring over the details (yet again), when Amy had been in the middle of speaking, telling Jake that it didn’t matter what anyone said because “you’re still an innocent-” and that’s all it took. He started to laugh, scaring the hell out of Amy who genuinely started to worry that he’d finally lost his mind and was becoming hysterical and then broke into song, finishing with a delightful rendition of the chorus of Innocent before laughing again and demanding that Amy pay up. It took her a minute to remember – to rewind past the last few months, back to when life seemed simple and her biggest concern of the week was that Jake just would not stop speaking in Taylor Swift lyrics. She remembered that week – a week which began with Jake declaring that the answers to all of life’s questions could be found in Taylor Swift lyrics and that he never needed to say anything else, ever again. It had been a long, long week and by the end she was severely tempted to throw the Red cd case at his head and change her locks. Instead it ended with a bet (as most disagreements did) which involved Amy vowing that she would never, ever, speak in Taylor Swift lyrics. It’s been so long and so much has happened that she can’t even remember what they actually bet but right now that’s not what matters.  All that matters is that Amy desperately missed that smile and that laugh and the trademark Jake Peralta smug ‘i-just-won-a-bet look that made her want to kiss him and stab him simultaneously. Don’t get her wrong, Amy is competitive and hates losing (having six brothers does that to a girl) but more than anything she wants to see that smile and know that wherever Jake is, whatever is happening to him, he knows that she would do anything for him. Including speaking in Taylor Swift lyrics.

An hour and a lot of googling later, Amy is ready. Although she visits Jake as often as possible in prison, she still writes to him often, knowing how much having something physical to hold onto means to him. Beside her laptop are a dozen photographs, each with something written in Amy’s neat handwriting on the back.

A photo of them at Terry’s daughter Ava’s christening when Amy wore her (and Jake’s) favourite red dress with the caption I got that red lip, classic thing that you like.

Another photo taken during the salsa dancing class they took on their cruise with not much for dancing, but for you I did.

One with the entire nine-nine squad smiling at the camera and the words welcome to New York, it’s been waiting for you

And Amy’s particular favourite – the slightly terrifying photo of her and Jake which commemorated their victory over the Vulture, on which she wrote (with a smile) I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.

And that night, for the first night in a long time, Amy sleeps soundly. Things aren’t fixed yet, not by a long shot, but she knows that until they can crack the case, until they can get him home, at least she can be sure that he’s going to smile. And for now, that’s enough.  

[doyouever-daydream]

Masterlist

I actually had opened another blog for posting imagines but nevermind that. 

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid x SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N) 

Introductions

V-Day Babysitting Duty

SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N)  bonding with the BAU

I'm every woman

Take me out to the ball game

Spencer Reid x Maxine Brenner (MAXCER)

Give me a try

BAU does blind dates

A story of boy meets girl (Spencer Reid x Female Reader)

Since we're alone (Penelope Garcia x Luke Alvez)

What are the odds? (Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner)

Penelope Garcia x Luke Alvez (GARVEZ)

Oneshots

Wild Heart

Late night confessions

It only takes a taste

Red

3AM

New Year’s Day

You are the only one | Hold you like I used to

Friends with Kids (Movie AU)

Instagram Feeds (Social Media AU)

You’ve Got The Love

A Heart I Can Miss (Soulmates AU)

JJ knows better

Luna Alvez 🌙 (series)

Luna

Birthday wishes

Earth Day surprises

Rainy Sundays

Making Happy Memories

Like broken thunder & lightning in a bottle. (Series)

1. Love you on the weekends

2. I get carried away from you

3. This heart is burning up

4. Sit next to me

5. Stay cool, it's just a kiss

6. High voltage when we kiss

7. Maybe I’m afraid

8. I wanna get better

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago (PERALTIAGO)

Father’s Day

Ted Lasso

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton (TEDBECCA)

I Want Your Midnights

[letsperaltiago]

you and all your little things | jake & amy

Based on an old prompt I received in my inbox a loooong time ago:

"this is either a fic request or just a nice thought, depending on if you like it haha! i saw a reddit post today about a woman who said she loves finding kitchen appliances in the wrong place bc she knows that means her boyfriend must have tidied up the kitchen. she said on a stressful day, coming home and finding something in the wrong place makes her feel happy that her bf is trying to do something to make her day easier - even if he messes up a little. gave me early j&a vibes, season 3ish"

Rating: G (Pure fluff <3)

Words: 1.4k

Read here or on AO3

----

She doesn’t think too much about it… Or maybe rather she tries not to think too much about it. 

Amy Santiago tries not to think too much about the fact that she really likes being in a relationship: the solid, silly, and amazing kind with Jake Peralta. She might even be loving it, if she has to be completely honest.  

It’s the smallest things she usually loves the most and it drives her that much more insane that the man does the tiniest, trivial things and she swoons as if he’s asking for her hand in marriage - not that she’s thinking about that yet… duh. Or… maybe a bit? How can a guy she’s been with for just barely 6 months mean so much to her already? Is that normal? More importantly: is it safe? 

Even during the entire (and very intense) ‘annoying and difficult to be around’-phase Jake happened to go through when she first started at the 9-9, deep (very deep at times) down,  Amy always knew she liked Jake. Even before they were dating, obviously, but now that she has him her true and completely unhinged feelings are starting to surface and show. Slowly, bit by bit like the iceberg in the horizon, threatening to come closer and crash into her. No, of course, she doesn’t think of their relationship as a fatal shipwreck but they did just watch Titanic a few days ago and the metaphor is right there. After the movie, tiredly stretching after having fallen asleep with her head resting in his lap, Jake had suddenly gone silent and looked at her through the dark with a look so intense she could’ve sworn he was about to tell her a century old secret that could change the world. 

“Ames?” he’d said so seriously that it made her heart drop to her gut.

“Y-yeah?” 

“I’m about to ask you something very important.” Even in the dimmed light of her scented candles, she could see the depth of his brown irises grow darker. What had happened to the lighthearted and never-serious boyfriend of hers? 

“W-what?” She was tired, disoriented from her mid-movie nap, and now she was supposed to sit here and just witness him breaking up with her or something. Her life was definitely a joke. Silence swallowed them as he reached over the tiny gap between them and grabbed her hands. Another few seconds snailed by. Neither moved from their seats on the couch. 

“Will you paint me like one of your french girls?” 

What? Her brain short-circuited. 

“What?”

Then she saw it. A glimt, so mischievous it couldn’t hide, ever, appeared in his eyes. Lips broke into a tight line that told her he was holding back a grin. Even in the darkness, it was clear as day that he was messing with her. 

“Jacob, you asshole!” she punched his shoulder and he finally broke, letting out a cackle. 

So yeah, no actual Titanic happening in their relationship, and Jake has totally stolen her heart, and Amy is all at once completely enamoured but also horribly scared of how quickly she’s falling… getting used to it. Mainly, as already mentioned, the little things. 

Jake utterly, obliviously and completely messes with her way of thinking logically and even worse… her love and respect for organizing. 

Example: A couple of months ago, Jake had stayed the night. Even though she was going to work the in the morning, while he had a day off, Jake had insisted on staying the night. In the morning he’d sent her off with a kiss (and a playful smack to the butt) before passing back out in her bed. Driving to work Amy couldn’t help but overthink all the mess she’d come home to because untidiness was part of her boyfriend’s DNA. Even though it took some minor controversies and time getting used to, now she didn’t mind too much. Cleaning was fun and if it meant that Jake was making himself at home and stuck around more often then she’d gladly put up with it. It was safe to say that she was both pleasantly surprised and amused upon arriving back home to her now-empty apartment. 

When she walked into her home the air was crisp, clean even, telling her that Jake had aired the apartment for her before leaving. Lucky her because she’s pretty sure that the smell of their miserably burnt popcorn from last night must’ve been hell to get rid of. Suddenly she wondered what else he’d done. She didn’t expect anything but maybe Jake Peralta had the potential of being a tidy boyfriend. After taking off her boots and coat, putting it away as per usual, Amy wandered through her apartment as if she was visiting an exhibition at a museum; curious to learn and openminded. 

The blanket from last night was folded and rested across the sofa’s armrest - just how she always did herself but she’s positive that she didn’t do that yesterday. They’d made out on the couch and Jake had carried her straight to bed to continue the horny activities. It was safe to say that neither of them had gone back to the living room after that. Sure, the blanket could’ve been folded more neatly but Amy couldn’t possibly get herself to do anything about it; she’d been too busy smiling from ear to ear at the image of her boyfriend folding the huge, black plaid to the best of his abilities. 

The kitchen had been cleaned as well but she did happen to do a double-take when her eyes wandered across the sight of their two mugs (yes, they have stupid matching couples’ mugs) standing very much washed and clean, she also noticed, on top of her coffee machine.  Following her own logic, mugs would always belong in the cupboard: above the plates, next to the glasses. 

However then, suddenly, Amy could also see it from her boyfriend’s point of view: what do you use mugs for? Coffee. Where do you make the coffee? Coffee machine. Duh. Thus they belong together. 

She’d napped a picture of it and sent it to him right away. 

Amy Santiago:

Never thought of doing this but it somehow makes sense.

A few moments later her phone pinged, notifying her of a new message.

Jake Peralta:

oh ames welcome to the wonderfully logical world of jake peralta

She’d chuckled at it before heading for further exploration of her own home. Besides it being tidy as usual (almost up to her own very high standards) she didn’t notice much. The bed was made, shower scraped clean and his dirty clothes in her laundry basket. From day one they’d made a rule: she didn’t mind washing his clothes but the least he could do was put it in the laundry basket and not leave it all over the place. Never had he broken the rule.  And for him to clothes leave behind for her to wash is okay since he always does the same for her when she leaves something behind at his place - so far he’s only turned two of her white items pink. The first time, very early on in their dating slash situationship, he'd confessed straight away.

Jake Peralta:

don’t be mad. i turned your t-shirt the color of love.

click to open attachment. 

He’d texted her the first time.

Amy Santiago:

Wow, what a unique take on messing up my white t-shirt.

Jake Peralta:

sorry :( 

Amy Santiago:

It’s okay <3 I’ll just have to steal one of yours

The second time he'd left the item on her bed, folded in something resembling a heart, with a note with 'color of love' and a tiny heart next to it. She couldn't be mad - even if it was her night shorts. The note she kept in her drawer. 

Although she hadn’t noticed earlier that day he'd stayed over on his day off, she later comes one more puzzling yet amusing surprise. One is when she’d been looking for her reading glasses and couldn’t find them, only to randomly come across them… lying next to her toothbrush. She’d been more than curious to understand the logic behind the placement and sent him a picture. 

Amy Santiago:

What is the logic behind this? 

Jake Peralta:

You always read in bed before going to sleep. You always brush your teeth right before getting into bed. I thought it was normal to pair the two? 

Wow. She’d been smiling and blushing so hard and if he had been there with her then he definitely would’ve teased her about it. 

He definitely wasn’t a titanic. He was a million things, tiny little things, that made her heart flutter and lips curl into stupid school girl smiles. What can she say? Jake Peralta has a wonderfully weird brain and she’s slowly, bit by bit, falling more and more in love with him and his logic. 

[amy-santiagos]

Can you please tell me the name of the mafia AU, it sounds very interesting!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9508289

It’s one of my favorite peraltiago oneshots! Hope you enjoy it.

[muslimsmoak]

author interview

tagged by @mindramblingsfics thank you 💗

author name: muslimsmoak on tumblr/babswonder on ao3 and dickbabs sideblog on tumblr

fandoms: arrow (ship: olicity, ship: dinahlicity), brooklyn nine nine (ship: peraltiago), young justice and other batman media (ship: dickbabs)

where you post: ao3/tumblr

most popular oneshot: these arms were made for loving you

most popular multi-chapter: every breath you take, every move you make (i’ll be watching you)

favorite story you wrote: let’s make a deal, you and i

although current new favorite is sometimes life slips in through a backdoor

how you choose your titles: they either come to me in a stroke of genius or they don’t, if i’m really out on inspiration i’ll try and use a song lyric as a fic title generator cos i’m basic like that

do you outline: yes i always start with a general list of events details or general plot points so i can kinda visualize where the story is going

coming soon/not yet started: part two to sometimes life slips in through a backdoor which shall be ep 2x09 of arrow inspired, a taylor swift lover it’s nice to have a friend one shot, a dickbabs au based on this tumblr post of this girl asking her cop dad if the guy he picked up is cute, and maybe a b99 dickbabs as peraltiago au

do you accept prompts: i’ve rarely done them but if anyone sends me anything, i’ll at least try to attempt the prompt i just gotta be feeling it you know???

tagging: @felicityollies @mimozka @alexiablackbriar13 @clearbluewaters @dibs4ever and anyone else who wants to try it

[storyinmyeyes]

hello do write or happen to know anyone who writers peraltiago pre-relationship fanfics. (no established relationship)

Hi, I have written a few pre-relationship fics, but I mostly write established relationship oneshots.

Here are some writers that have written some amazing pre-relationship fics

@amyscascadingtabs @amydancepants-peralta @kamekamelea @elsaclack @johnny-and-dora (she has a great one with pining Amy when she goes to visit a sick Jake, which is here and she’s written some others if you visit her page on ao3. I hope that helps a little. If anyone else knows of some good pre-relationship fics, feel free to respond to this.

[fandom-fic-rec]

all my worlds lead back to you

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Ratings: General

Warnings: None

Relationship: Jake Peralta/ Amy Santiago

Characters: Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, Ray Holt

Summary

She curled into him, leaning against his side as she whisper shouted at the contestants on TV. He was playing with the curling ends of her hair when it struck him how beautiful she looked right then - passionately muttering about Jeopardy of all things, dwarfed in the over sized Harry Potter hoodie she had stolen from one of her brothers. And later that night, as she pressed one last kiss against his bare chest before falling asleep next to him, hoodie long since abandoned, he felt a series of tumbles and swoops in his chest and stomach that he couldn't quite explain.

Or the one where Jake Peralta goes home to Amy Santiago every night and really wants to scream from rooftops about it. Or you know, announce it in the bullpen. Both work.

Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12723699#main

[elsaclack]

2019 writing meme

bc why not

i was tagged by @startofamoment and @disruptedvice!!! thanks guys i appreciate it lmao

things i’m for sure going to write:

the remaining six chapters of the royalty au i started in november of last year!! all of which have been outlined!!! and i’ll post a snippet of what i have written of chapter 5 below the cut!!

the remaining peraltiago kiss prompts in my inbox

the remaining starmora kiss prompt in my inbox

rewriting the enemies to friends to lovers in one night at a wedding oneshot that i stupidly forgot to cross-post before i deleted the original elsaclack

a groundhog day soulmate au wherein two soulmates relive the same day over and over and over again until they fall in love

things i’m very likely going to write:

a soulmate au in which a person’s soulmate appears to them 5 times throughout their life before they meet and helps them make 5 major life decisions that leads them both to their first irl meeting

an organized crime au wherein jake and amy are both independent con artists whose paths consistently cross, giving way to an extremely competitive (and flirty) kind of co-existence. at least that’s how jake sees it, up until he screws amy out of a $100,000 score - that’s when he finds out amy isn’t an independent con artist, but rather a worker bee for an extremely pissed-off mob boss who now wants them both dead. featuring a tech-savvy (and weapons-savvy) rosa and hitman charles

a set it up au wherein jake is on desk duty working as holt’s assistant for the foreseeable future and amy is kevin’s TA

a sound of music au that includes SEVEN of the peraltiago babies flying around fanon lmao

things i’d like to write at some point:

the proposal au that has literally been like 2-3 years in the making

a blatant and full-fledged hunger games au

ANYWAYS i also have like 342983649278 half-written and abandoned one-off wips in my docs that i might borrow from or finish at some point or another but i’m trying to not set myself up for failure by adding them to this list lmao. i’ll grab a few snippets from some of those just to throw them out there in the universe as an apology for being so inactive lately!!

i’m not sure who all has been tagged yet so forgive me if you’ve been tagged: @philtstone @johnny-and-dora @taxicabsandcupcakes @the-pontiac-bandit @johnnydora @snlsamberg @bklyn-ninenine and @proofthatihaveaheart!!!

no pressure tho obviously like please feel free to ignore!!!

ANYWAYS!!!!!

******ALL OF THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE BEFORE PUBLISHING (WHERE APPLICABLE LMAO)******

you’re a king and i’m a lionheart ch. 5 preview:

It’s been precisely three weeks and five days since that secret, blessed afternoon in the library with Amy, and each day that has passed has been another stone tied around his ankles. He looks up for the first time since sitting down some twenty minutes earlier - she’s grimacing at him through the mirror, a deep valley of concern creasing the space between her brows, and as he shoots her a grimace of his own she catches her lower lip between her teeth and sets about nibbling. “It sucks,” she finally says.

“Well, yeah,” he leans back in his seat, until his shoulders brush against the warm, soft plane of her stomach, hidden beneath her uniform. “Most of this shit does.”

She grimaces again and reaches up, hands sliding over his shoulders to gently squeeze. “I wish I could say it’ll be over soon, but…”

“We both know it’d be a lie.”

“I may have a silver lining,” she kneads the pads of her thumbs into the knotted sinews of muscle lining his shoulder and his head drops forward automatically. “I’ll be there through the whole thing and I can probably get you out early.”

He groans appreciatively - both at her reminder and at the perfect warmth and pressure she’s applying to his shoulders and neck. “You’re an angel, you know?”

She huffs out a quiet laugh above him - and it’s the first time he’s heard it here, between the two of them, in a long time.

Three weeks and five days, to be exact.

a random neighbors au:

“So,” he says as he wriggles his key into the lock on his mailbox. From the corner of his eye he sees her head turned toward him, frozen in the act of rifling through her mail. “Are you a magician?”

He turns toward her to find her staring at him like he’s just beamed down from outer space, and for half a second he almost bails. Her brow is furrowed and the corners of her mouth are pulled down. “What?” she asks.

“Are you a magician?” he repeats. He waits until she’s blinked twice, before adding “‘cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

The silence that follows rings just long enough for him to regret approximately eighty-seven percent of his collective life choices. She arches a brow and turns a little more fully toward him, but otherwise remains motionless until he forces himself to swallow thickly.

“That’s what you’re gonna go with?” she finally asks, and even though the vast majority of her demeanor is now overflowing with derision, he’s certain there’s a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Of all the cheesy pickup lines in the world, you’re going with...magician. You can’t honestly tell me you thought that would work.”

He can feel his face flooding with heat, embarrassment like static prickling up his spine to the back of his neck. She’s still staring at him expectantly, her mail now apparently forgotten as she lowers her hands to her hips, and when he tries to swallow it’s like the Sahara in his throat. “Uh,” he coughs a bit awkwardly, letting his keys hang from the lock so he can properly rub the back of his neck. “I just thought - since we’re the only ones in here -”

“No, I got that part,” she interrupts, a smile beginning to form in the curves of her face. “That was the only slightly redeemable part of...whatever that was supposed to be. But tacking it on to calling me a magician is definitely not achieving what you’re trying to achieve here.”

A brief, nervous laugh escapes his chest on an exhale, and this woman is still staring at him - though her amusement is far more pronounced now. In fact, he’d go so far as to say she looks mirthful in the way she appraises him from head to toe. “That definitely wasn’t my best,” he admits, reaching up for his keys, pleased to find his hands steadier than he expected them to be. “Can I get a do-over? And...maybe your number, while I’m at it?”

Her answering laugh is bright and loud and it simmers in his veins; it seems to catch her off-guard as it does him. She shakes her head and lifts her mail to her chest again, almost like she’s trying to put a barrier between them. “That was a little better,” she admits through a smile, “but still not great. Do any of those ever work for you?”

“Sometimes,” he nods, finally getting his mailbox door open just to find two overdue bills and a copy of Busty Ladies magazine inside. He stares for a beat, and then closes the door. “No mail for the falcon today.” he says cheerfully.

“The falcon?” she repeats - and all the derision from before is back.

“Oh, yeah, my - my gym buddies call me ‘the falcon,’ y’know, ‘cause - ‘cause I’m so badass.”

She stares, mouth just slightly agape, and he regrets ninety-three percent of his collective life-choices. “Wow,” she finally manages, backing a pace toward the door, and then another. “Well, uh, it was...interesting meeting you, Mr. The Falcon.”

He laughs, and she grins, and then she’s backing away earnestly and he’s left with the feeling of grasping at straws. “Ja- uh, it’s actually Jacob.”

“Jacob.” she repeats.

And he panics. “I don’t know why I said that, no one actually calls me Jacob. I mean, it’s my real name, it’s my - my full name, or proper name, or whatever. But my mom is the only one who calls me that and she only does it when I’m in trouble.” She’s almost to the doorway now, looking at him the way he suspects she looks at people who try to corner her in bodegas to passionately warn her of a looming apocalypse, and she’s about to disappear. “It’s Jake.”

She pauses just beside the doorway, head cocked just slightly to the left, and unreadable expression on her face. “Hi, Jake. You’re really weird.”

the hunger games au:

“What do you mean?” Jake asks. Santiago shifts, eyes darting to the right toward the end of the table, suddenly looking like a cornered animal. “Your game ended four years ago -”

She makes a noise, a loud “tch” sound between her teeth, and he falls silent. “I left the arena four years ago,” she says slowly. She’s still gripping her empty glass tightly, like it’s the only solid thing in the room. “But I’m still playing the games. The games are never over. They drag you back every year so you have a front row seat, they make you...talk to people,” she seems to have a hard time forcing the words out of her throat, which strikes Jake as a very Diaz-like thing to do. “It’s just...it’s never over. Never.”

The train passes into a tunnel, and suddenly the entire dining cart is thrown into an eerie, rapidly flashing orange light. The shadows cross Santiago’s face quickly, and she suddenly seems much older than she did before. She leans forward across the table toward him, and when her mouth opens, he catches the slightest smell of whiskey on her breath.

“Trust me, Peralta,” she whispers. “There’s only one loser in the games. And that’s the last one standing. The games only end when you do.”

“I don’t want to die.” he says, in a voice that is not his own, too dark and tense and quiet. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to...how, how do I...please, Santiago,” he finishes in a whisper, “help me.”

The tunnel ends, and the cart is once again bathed in the soft yellow light from the lamp on the side table behind her. He sees her swallow thickly, her fingers bone white for how hard they’re curled around her glass. She chews the inside of her cheek and casts a glance out the window toward that cluster of glittering lights in the distance growing steadily closer, before she returns to his face. “I-I can’t -” she rasps, pauses, clears her throat, and starts again. “I can’t...guarantee anything. You know that, don’t you? There’s nothing guaranteed about any of this, okay?”

His fingers and toes are numb and his heart feels like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings against his breast as he nods. He grips the edges of the nearest plate and pulls it closer, until the edge digs into his chest.

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll help you.” Her right hand drifts to the deep divot in the tabletop from where Rosa’s knife had landed hours earlier, fingertips tracing and catching on the scar.

His chest quakes with a shaky exhale. Relief floods through his veins, hot and strong, and his whole body sags in heedy relief. “Thank you, God, thank you Santiago -”

She taps the bottom of her glass against the table loudly, cutting him off, and then turns her head up toward the ceiling. “Amy.” She says after a moment.

“I’m...what?”

She drops her chin again, and when her eyes find his he’s suddenly violently transported back in time to that moment in the Market four years previously, hours before her reaping, the last time he saw her eyes so clear and bright and present. “It’s Amy,” she says, “you can call me Amy.”

a sound of music au:

Mrs. Simms and Maria both start toward the staircase, a tense silence lingering behind them. Neither Jake nor Captain Santiago move until they hear a door click shut upstairs; the moment the silence descends again, Captain Santiago releases a breath and drops her head.

Somehow, her posture is still ramrod straight.

“I apologize, Mr. Peralta,” she says as she turns toward him, and suddenly Jake is aware of the deep crescents carved into the skin beneath her eyes and the weary way her shoulders curve inward beneath the padding in her suit jacket. “My priorities have just changed. I’m afraid I can’t focus on whatever it is you’re here to do -”

“Assist in the process of recovering from your injury,” he recites quietly.

She blinks, and then shakes her head slightly. “Right. Yes. That. I’m afraid I can’t do that until I find a replacement for my children’s nanny. I think it would be best if you just returned to the hospital for now.”

She starts toward the door, clearly expecting him to follow, but his feet remain planted on the floor. Her gait is uneven - he can see the slight limp on her left side, perhaps a tender knee or hip - and that same strange feeling from the day before is overwhelming in the cavern of his chest once again. “What if I stepped in as a nanny?” he hears himself ask.

Captain Santiago freezes in place, and then slowly turns back to face him, trepidation written as clear as day across her face. “You’re aware of the fact that there are seven of them, correct?”

He nods.

Her brow furrows. “You would be able to properly carry out your duties as a nurse in addition to nannying my children?”

He shrugs. “I don’t imagine the recovery process would be too extensive, since it seems like it’s only your left knee?” He raises his brows and glances at the knee in question.

A look of surprise flashes across her face. “Very observant,” she says, and he gets the feeling that it’s mostly to herself. He doesn’t respond; for a long moment they merely stand staring at each other. “Alright,” she finally says, “I’m willing to give this a try. But the moment the nursing process interferes with my children and their schedule, it’s over, and you will return to the hospital at once. Am I understood?”

He has to resist the urge to salute. “Absolutely, ma’am.” he says instead.

a the good place au (where jake and amy knew each other through competing precincts in the nypd and “hated” each other in life and therefore immediately recognize each other in the after-life):

The Architect takes him to his new home - something tailored specifically for this Other Jake’s tastes, something straight out of his personal nightmares - and he’s really starting to think that he’s going to get away with this. The Architect is showing him the television system and he’s watching point-of-view clips of advocacy works in Uganda and there are fifteen framed paintings of clowns in the corner and someone is knocking on his new front door.

And when the front door opens to reveal the person on the other side, all his hopes of staying are dashed.

Of all the people in the entire universe who could have been assigned to this afterlife neighborhood with him, of all the people in history who could have knocked on his front door, it just had to be Amy freaking Santiago.

-

She does, for whatever reason, wait to question him until after The Architect is gone.

Jake stalls as long as he can closing that front door, taking care to examine the knob - this big round thing that looks to be artificially rusted, how lame - and when he finally, slowly turns on the spot, she’s standing several paces ahead of him with her arms crossed tight over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently.

And suddenly he realizes that she’s wearing a pantsuit in the afterlife.

“So -”

“Don’t.” she snaps, and he drops his gaze to his feet with a nod. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re here, but there’s clearly been a mistake.”

“I could be in The Good Place -” he says indignantly.

“Did you even know you while you were alive? You were the most arrogant, pompous, self-centered and conceited human being I’ve ever met in my life!”

“Oh, please, Santiago. Just because I had a little bit of confidence -”

“I wasn’t finished.” she interrupts sharply, and he rocks backwards to his heels, feeling the door’s cool surface brushing against his shoulders. “All you ever cared about was looking cool and being the best. That’s not confidence, it’s arrogance.”

The all-too-familiar urge to argue with her bubbles up like bitter bile in his throat, but after a moment he feels himself deflating, the fight leaving him all at once. “You’re right,” he shrugs, and if he’s not mistaken there’s surprise cracking through that steely expression on her face. “I mean, the guy - The Architect? - he got my name right, but...that’s it. Those -” he gestures to the television, where the memories are still soundlessly playing on the screen “- are definitely not my memories. He mentioned that I was some kind of death-row lawyer and human rights advocate?”

Amy snorts - clearly in disbelief - but Jake smiles tentatively all the same. “Yeah, that’s obviously incorrect.”

“Here’s the real kicker, though - he said I was also a volunteer firefighter. Can you imagine?”

She pulls a face, laughs a more genuine laugh - and the defensiveness in her eyes diminishes half a degree. And later (much later) he’ll pinpoint this as the moment that hope sparked back to life inside his chest.