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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

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do not mind me I am just here thinking about Jake being the little spoon with Amy while also being the big spoon with Mac and creating the perfect Peraltiago cuddle sandwich

(I do mind you very much anon because I had never thought about that before and oh my god do I need it now)

The sound of Mac's favourite new tv show echoes quietly from the bedroom when Amy steps out of the bathroom in a towel, and as stressed out as she still is after that hot shower she just enjoyed, the sight of Mac and Jake cuddling on her side of the bed is enough to make her shoulders relax, no matter what they've just put behind them. They're here now, safe and sound, Mac's eyes closed shut and his pacifier bobbing away, Jake's hand absent-mindedly stroking over his head, the other one wrapped around his middle to hold him close while he stares at the television screen across the room with hazy eyes.

-*-

They've all had a pretty hard and frankly scary week. Amy'd already warned Jake that she would probably not be home much to help out at all, gearing up for a major meeting and discussion panel with several higher-ups she was trying very hard not to panic about, and she was more than relieved that Jake had taken it all in stride even when daycare called in as well, to tell them that Mac's usual two days a week would have to be cancelled due to another outbreak.

And then Mac had gotten sick anyway, so sick that Jake lost his nights to sitting up with him as well, as Amy tiptoed in and helped as much as she could - she'd gotten maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night, barely able to make herself presentable for work in the mornings, but she could tell from Jake's haggard looks every morning as she kissed him goodbye for the day that he'd gotten even less.

It was enough to make that week one of the few she underscored with a harsh black line in her monthly planner, but she added a red line underneath on thursday, when Jake called her at work - something he rarely ever did, sticking to texts she could choose to ignore until later if she was too busy - to tell her he wasn't taking any more chances and bringing Mac to the ER after the morning had brought another intense round of throwing up, 5 blown out diapers in under 10 minutes and a fever that made the super-smart kid thermometer she got them blast out a rather terrifying warning beep.

Seeing her baby with an IV in his arm as she raced into the ER after giving Holt the quickest explanation she could, quietly sniffling and sucking on a freeze pop Jake was holding for him while also hugging him in his lap, told her he made the right call before the pediatrician coming over to speak to her ever could.

-*-

"He needs more fluids than he could drink right now." Jake explained what the doctor had already said when she came over to kiss both him and Mac on their foreheads, a tired sigh from the both of them in response. "But his fever is already down from the medicine they gave him."

They were allowed to take him home for the night, luckily, after his fever had gone down some more and the nurses had made sure he'd kept at least one meal in, with another big bag of medicine and 'What To Do If...' instructional booklets Jake was reading out loud for her as she drove them home. Jake was holding onto Mac's foot in his car seat like a lifeline, even as his little buddy dozed on and off from the stress of the ER and so many foreign people around him, lifted him into his arms more carefully than ever to carry him up the stairs to their apartment, and Amy knew he was not going to just put him down into his crib-converted toddler bed, nor would Mac let him, the way he clung onto his shoulders with a sad little whine in his throat from the exhaustion of the past days.

So she'd switched on the bedroom tv for some comfort - screen time rules be damned in this case - while Jake got Mac into some fresh pjs, took him just long enough so that Jake could get into sweats as well, and promised to take over for him after her shower so he could jump in, too.

-*-

But she doesn't believe he's going to take her up on that offer as she sees them side by side on the bed now, Mac's back pressed firmly against Jake's chest as he curls around the little guy.

Everyone likes to be the little spoon. It makes you feel safe.

Mac is fast asleep now, as safe as he could ever be. On a normal day, she'd probably think about lifting him out of Jake's arms to put him to bed in his own room, but she'd rather sleep there herself than to break up their little bubble of quiet.

"You know you can turn it off once he's asleep." She whispers instead after getting her own PJs on, climbing onto the free side of the bed carefully.

"Beep and Boop are gonna explain why we need to recycle next." Jake mumbles as an answer when she leans over his side, strokes through his messy hair as she reaches for the remote on the bedside table.

"Your wife should not need to explain why you need to take the chance to sleep when you can after this week." She presses a kiss to his temple as the screen switches off.

"I feel like I've forgotten how to do that." Jake sighs, and she can see the exhaustion on his face, the lines around his mouth and bags under his eyes that actually make him look his age for once. "What if Mac wakes up again? I don't think he ate enough, and-"

"If he wakes up, you'll wake up. You always do." She says in the most soothing voice she can muster, her hand not stilling in his hair as she watches his eyelids flicker. "And even if you don't, I'm still here to wake up too."

Everyone likes to be the little spoon. It makes you feel safe.

She slides up to him without moving her hand from his nape, nestles against his back as he sighs once more, deeper and calmer than before. One of his hands lets go of Mac and settles on her thigh instead, wrapped around his hip to really stay close.

"I'm gonna call in sick tomorrow. Holt will understand." She mumbles against his shoulder where her head rests, her fingertips scratching along the very edge of his hairline as her other arm comes around his waist, finds his hand on Mac's tummy to interlock their fingers against his soft, even breaths.

"Love you." Jake mumbles in reply, and his voice is halfway into dreamland, she can tell from its cadence alone, but she still answers.

"Love you too."

She spends a moment longer awake, feeling the steady breathing of the two most important people in her world under her hands, before her eyes fall closed as well.

-*-

None of them have moved even an inch when she blinks awake first in the morning, and Jake growls in his sleep when she twists around to reach for her cellphone on the bedside table, so she's quick to settle back against him once she's sent off a sick-call text to Holt and receives, weirdly enough, a thumbs up emoji as a reply and nothing else.

There's a much more expected follow up of "Dear Amy, I hope you and your family will feel better soon. Give Jake my best. Sincerely, Deputy Comissioner Raymond Holt" when she wakes up again a few hours later, and Jake makes no noise in his sleep this time, when she sneaks around to the side of the bed were Mac is smiling at her wide awake. She lifts him out of Jake's hug as only she ever could without waking him, and they share a lazy, tummy-friendly breakfast before Jake pats into the kitchen with his eyes half-closed and hugs them both from behind before getting himself a massive cup of coffee.

"Did you sleep okay?" She asks with a smile as the cup lifts into the air as he downs it.

"You never sleep badly as the little spoon, Ames." He grins softly before kissing her, Mac's hand slapping onto his cheek from her lap to keep them from completely getting lost in their kiss.

"But I did dream about Beep and Boop making me sit through an exam about recycling and I completely failed."

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic #mac peralta

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youngsamberg · 3 years

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im STILL not over holt emailing kevin a d*ck pic and signing it ‘sincerely, Raymond Holt’

love the continuity

#anonymous #b99 spoilers

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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

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Brooklyn Nine-Nine: The Good Ones (8x01)

And we're back. This is going to be interesting, writing about this show for one final season, given... well, given 2020. Also given the knowledge that this is likely the last time I'll ever watch a procedural cop show. Not that I was ever big into them before, but... yeah, I mean, it's propaganda, it's always been propaganda, and I can't exactly see past it anymore. Anyway. Enough of that soap box, let's take a look!

Cons:

So, part of me just doesn't know who this is for??? Like, this first episode is about police brutality and Jake is painted in mostly sympathetic yet problematic light, where he's going around agreeing with ACAB actually but then in the same breath saying "not all cops! Not me!" So if this is for liberal fans of the show, it's like... do we need to see cops frowning about how hard this has been on them? No. And if it's for conservatives to try and humanize the cops and then show that there are real problems, then... well, there aren't conservatives watching this fucking show in that way, are there? I don't know. It feels messy. This is why most cop shows that touch on corruption within the cops makes the main characters the "good guys" working within the system. This is what this show has done up to now, and I can sort of appreciate them trying something a little more complex, but I also feel like I'm tangling myself up in circles trying to decide what the heck point they're trying to make.

Then again, I have to acknowledge that I don't know what the show could have done as an alternative? I suppose part of me wanted them to quit en masse and started a PI company together, like Rosa did, but that also would have felt like pandering, so... there's basically no scenario that would have pleased me and a lot of other people too, I bet.

Pros:

The part of the first episode that I think worked, with regards to the racism thing, was Boyle learning not to be performative. It was kind of busted that Terry had to explain to him how he was being an idiot, but I also think the fact that Terry was put in that position, and the problem therein, was part of the point they were trying to make. I think most white people can see some of Boyle's behavior in themselves. You donate to BLM charities and then you want to make sure you tell people in your life about it - and I don't think it's about getting praise so much as it is about people knowing that you're not "part of the problem" because how could you be, if you're actively donating/volunteering/reblogging things as part of the solution? But it is performative, and that's... well, there's an inevitability to that, because talking about these things IS part of how we bring the issue into the light and talk about solutions. I don't know, I just thought Charles was being ridiculous in a really funny way that also hopefully helped some white people reflect on how they could be doing more and saying less. Listen to your podcasts, sure! But maybe shut up about it unless you're doing something or suggesting something actionable! Good lesson for us all, myself included.

I also did like the rant from the female police captain explaining the system and how busted it truly is, because it kind of... proves the whole point of the ACAB thing. Even with good intentions, there's no way to untangle yourself from the corruption baked into the system. If you want to keep your job as a cop, you are complicit in the racism of that system. That's just the bottom line. It's not just cops, either. Look, I work for a law firm that represents big name clients including some super wealthy tech companies that treat their employees like shit. I have to live with the fact that my labor contributes to hurting other people in certain cases, even though I personally don't work with the "bad" clients or whatever. It's messy. Which is why stripping things down to the studs might be the only way to make things actionably better. (But hey. That's not going to happen any time soon, and in the meantime, do what you can to help, right???)

I also thought Amy and Holt's plot line was successful. I was legitimately surprised and horrified to learn that Raymond and Kevin are separated and I sincerely hope that they reconcile before the show ends. Their relationship is such a fun one to see. Seeing the psychological strain of the pandemic and the political upheaval on these characters makes sense, in fact it's the only way this show makes any sense at all if it wants to have integrity and send a message. I'm not sure how that's going to go, but hearing that Holt has basically shut himself down to get through this terrible time is hard to stomach, and it means we're going to have to see a lot of processing and re-evaluation in this final season to make things sit right for these characters.

Grading on a scale of one to ten feels very odd in these circumstances, but here goes. I'll be back later with thoughts on episode two!

7/10

#review #brooklyn nine-nine #brooklyn nine-nine review #brooklyn nine nine review #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn 99 review #brooklyn nine nine

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sixtyeightdays · 4 years

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Apologies don’t change anything

helloo so i did this today bc i probably would’ve procrastinated if i left this for tmr but i really wanted to write this bc i love the idea of it alot so yes here goes (yes i ended up writing half then procrastinating again but its done now so yay)

also the idea of this goes to this post by @flufflepuffle296

⚠️TW: Mentions of murder

Marinette stared blankly at the airport she had just reached. Her class had gone on a trip to New York City, where Lila had oh-so-humbly bragged about all the famous people she knew here.

Lila had gotten Max to tamper with her alarm, setting it to go off a few hours late, at 5.30am instead of the 2am alarm she’d set it to, especially since their flight was at 6 in the morning.

Marinette had gotten to her hotel room late because everyone hadn’t bothered to get their own luggage to the car, and Marinette was reprimanded for not ‘helping her classmates bring their bags on to the bus’, especially because of Lila’s ‘sprained wrist’.

She had then been forced to carry all 30 luggages and carry-ons onto the bus by herself. Thankfully, the bus driver, who was staying at the same hotel as them for convenience had noticed her trouble when she’d tripped while carrying Lila’s huge baggage.

Lila had convinced the rest of the class not to bring suitcases that could be wheeled for no good reason, and everyone had brought large duffel bags, apart from Adrien, to which Marinette was very grateful for, even if the blonde boy was still bending to Lila’s whims.

Marinette had never appreciated lifting flour bags in the bakery more.

It had taken over two hours to get al the bags on the bus, especially since her class was stupid enough, or maybe they did it on purpose, and forgot stuff in their room, which they would then come down carrying, and forcing Marinette to unpack all the bags she’d piled on top of one another so they could put their item inside.

Marinette almost screamed when Max came down for the eighth time, carrying a stupid battery that could’ve easily fit into his pocket or Markov’s tail compartment.

Marinette was no exception and her stuff was on the plane, which was now on its way back to Paris-- without her.

She probably would’ve been more mad if she’d hadn’t seen it coming, and prepared a small backpack with her, with her phone, wallet, the binder she used to plan the class trip, a bag of cookies for Tikki, the box of power-up macarons, a jar of sugarcubes for Kaalki, and a spare change of clothes.

Tikki and Kaalki were safely hidden within the pouch Marinette had at her hip, which she was eternally grateful for. The Miracle Box was hidden in Ladybug’s yoyo, which was convenient for the girl so people wouldn’t steal it.

She let out a small groan in frustration until a hand gripped her shoulder. Panicking slightly, Marinette reared back her fist and clocked her attacker in the nose.

He yelped and staggered back as the lady with him looked slightly shocked. The lady faced Marinette, who was still on the defensive, but relaxed slightly when in the scuffle, the man’s badge fell out of his pocket, showing the golden unmistakable symbol of the NYPD.

‘Oh my gods, I am so sorry!’ Marinette helped the man up blushing slightly and panicking because she’d just punched a police officer in the face.

Marinette was very grateful she spoke fluent English.

He just groaned and with the help of Marinette and the lady, he stood up, clutching his bruised nose.

She introduced herself as Nette, because even if he was the police, she didn’t really want to give her name out to someone she punched in the face. You know, so she could run away, maybe Jagged would let her stay at his old apartment in Gotham--

She snapped out of her stupor as the lady tapped her on the shoulder cautiously and introduced herself as Amy Santiago and the man Jake Peralta.

‘What are you doing here, all by yourself? You can’t be more than 16.’

Frowning, Nette evaded the topic slightly and said she was here on a class trip, but she missed her flight back. The police officer looked disapproving until she noticed the binder peeking out of Marinette’s bag.

Her expression gave way to a happy delight as she plucked the binder out of her bag, gushing about how neat it was, how she used the correct fonts to emphasise everything, and she squealed when she saw the itinerary inside of it.

‘I am so sorry for her, she’s a bit of a nerd and she loves binders.’ Jake waved his hand side to side, making a tsk sound. Marinette could tell they were either dating or married, from the way he looked at her.

‘Why don’t you come with us to the police station? It’s about a 5 minute drive away, and we’re heading back anyway. We just had to drop my sister off.’ He explained, and Amy winced at the mentioned of Jake’s sister.

Huh, wonder why.

Marinette, still slightly wary but followed the couple to their car. He was a legitimate officer, and besides it wasn’t like she had anything to lose.

She clambered into the backseat and Tikki nudged her from the purse, a small show of support and a way of saying “i’m here for you”. She pressed her hand against the purse in response, listening to the somehow comforting banter between Jake and Amy.

When they arrived at the precinct, Marinette fidgeted in the lift, slightly nervous. Paris’ police department wasn’t the most friendly, and she was not welcomed there, since apparently Sabrina had complained to her father about Marinette.

When the lift doors opened with a small ding, Marinette clutched the string of her purse tightly, led around by Amy’s comforting hand o her shoulder. As she sat down in the seat Amy asked her to, facing Amy and away from the pigsty that was Jake’s desk holy shit were those rats?

Marinette placed her bag on the ground, making sure to keep it away from Jake’s crumbs.

She looked around her, taking in her surroundings before facing Amy who had a clipboard in hand, ready to write down her statement or Mlle. Bustier’s number she didn’t know.

She looked past Amy and her eyes widened when she noticed a familiar someone in the office behind Amy. She gasped, and somehow he winced totally not hearing it from a bug in Peralta’s desk and looked up.

His eyes widened and he strode out of the office, the door opening with a small bang which made Marinette raise her eyebrow.

Amy looked confused and turned around but shot to her feet when the captain stood behind her. He was not paying attention to his detective at all, staring at Marinette like he was seeing a ghost.

‘Uh, Captain? You look like your favorite detective just died, which he didn’t I’m right here, what’s up with the look?’

He ignored Peralta and started speaking in french, which Mari reciprocated.

‘Marinette? Is that you?’

‘Yep. Your detectives picked me up at the airport when I missed my plane back to Paris.’

‘I’m going to call Kevin.’

He switched back to English, looking to Jake and a rather dumpy looking man. ‘Boyle, do you remember when I told you I shared a croque monsieur with Kevin in France? And I made one for Kevin?’

The dumpy man, Boyle, nodded.

‘Guess who gave me the recipe?’ Raymond Holt smirked, pressing send on his phone. Marinette could make out a ‘Dear Kevin, Marinette is at the precinct. Sincerely, Raymond Holt.’

Dumpy man looked slightly awestruck.

She looked at him and deadpanned. ‘Still type like an old man?’

He smirked back, much to the dumpy man, Jake and Amy’s shock. ‘Still after model boy, Marinette Agreste?’

Marinette winced. ‘Consider me divorced.’

Holt looked slightly concerned. When he had gone to Paris with Kevin maybe a year or so back, the bluenette had blushed over the blonde model Adrien Agreste, her wishing that she’d have a relationship with the boy as successful as Raymond and Kevin’s.

The elevator dinged once more before he could question the girl that was so much like a daughter to him. Marinette noticed that two more people, a woman in all black that had a dagger in her boot and a katana strapped to her leg in a discreet way --badass, she noted-- and a buff man in suspenders that made Marinette want to gouge her eyes out.

Before she could rip into him, she was attacked by a blur of plaid and ginger. It was Kevin! The girl hugged the man fiercely and him likewise.

She socked him in the stomach as soon as he let go.

‘That’s for not telling me you were leaving Paris.’ She glared at the man as he doubled over.

Badass lady smirked and whispered to Buff Suspenders. ‘I like her.’ Not that Mari couldn’t hear of course.

‘Thank you, Badass Lady.’ The lady in question looked mildly flattered. ‘My name’s Rosa, pinky.’

‘My name’s Nette!’ She chirped, the badass aura lessening slightly. ‘I like your dagger! Can you teach me how to throw one?’

Amy looked rather puzzled. There was no visible weapon on Rosa. ‘What--’

Rosa was staring at the bluenette with shock and newfound respect. Rosa reached into her boot and drew out her dagger, and it glinted in the light.

‘How’d you know it was there?’ The dagger was small enough so that while it fit snugly in her palm, the blade was still long and sharp enough to cause bodily damage. It was small enough so that it couldn’t be seen petruding out from her boot.

Marinette just smiled and shrugged, wiggling her fingers.

‘Magic.’

Marinette eyed Rosa’s pant leg that held her katana.

Rosa looked very impressed by the petite girl.

Suddenly, a groan came from behind them, and whipping around, Marinette could see two men, foodies probably, gorging themselves on Tikki’s cookies.

‘Woah woah woah, my cookies are off limits!’ One of them, the shorter one, scoffed.

‘Like you can finish this much food anyway.’ Marinette raised an eyebrow and the other man glared at the bluenette, and the two men waddled over to a room.

Marinette followed and when she entered, she could see different types of chips, cookies, cakes laid out on the table. Jake let out a low whistle.

The two men were already seated there, napkins tied around their necks as a sure sign that they were going to eat.

Mari plopped herself on the chair opposite them and the taller man, looked at Marinette disbelievingly. No way that tiny girl could eat more than him and Hitchcock.

She took it as a silent challenge and waited a few seconds before starting to eat. The squad looked shocked at the fact that not only was the girl not vomiting from eating so fast, she was keeping up with Hitchcock and Scully.

The two had evidently noticed this as well, and shovelled more food in their mouth, causing cream and icing to drip everywhere. Their napkins, clothes and the chair.

But Marinette was still eating calmly, although her jaw was working at a furious pace. However, not one thing spilled anywhere which made Dumpy Man and Buff Suspenders look thankful, muttering something about a Marge.

But by the end of the race, contest, whatever, it was evident that it was a tie. While Hitchcock and Scully had eaten more food, Marinette had not made any messes at all. Plus, Marinette was only one person, while Hitchcock and Scully were two.

Needless to say, by the end of the day everyone had grown fond of the girl who could kick everyone’s asses and still look like a ball of sunshine.

She had ripped into Buff’s stupid suspenders, and he had been insulted until Marinette used the old sewing machine in Holt’s office that he had marched into the break room because he knew firsthand how amazing Marinette was at designing (Kevin had also been on the receiving end of her fashion administrations and it was not pleasant, although the end product was)

She fixed Terry’s suspenders, making the colors match for kwamis’ sake, and he had been very proud and paraded around the whole of the precinct.

Gina, who had just come back from the bathroom where she was totally not watching monkeys walk into an invisible wall had noticed Terry’s new suspenders and walked to the break room, and looking at the bluenette sew, fixing Charles’ tie because “yellow does not go with light orange what the hell were you thinking, dumpy”.

Gina asked Marinette if she wanted to be a fashion designer, because she definitely had the talent, and Mari smiled, saying that she was already one, but she went under an anonymous alias.

‘Ooh, we do love a good mystery. What’s your alias? Maybe I’ll commission a piece from you, I’ve been telling Charles to burn that horrible yellow tie for ages.’

‘My brand’s called MDC.’

She said this with the most innocent face she could as everyone around her freaked out that this barely 16 year old girl was one of the most up and rising designers, beating Gabriel Agreste in sales.

Even Jake knew who MDC was, but that was mostly because MDC was Jagged Stone’s personal designer. (He did freak out when Gina told him that MDC designed Jagged’s album covers from Rock Giant onwards)

Gina spent half an hour coaching Marinette on how to strut down the runway “like Catwoman slinking off into the night like the sexy queen she is”. Turns out, Marinette was a natural. (‘You need to work on that blushing though.’)

Eventually night fell and Marinette didn’t have anywhere to stay. Everyone offered their homes, even Rosa.

She eventually decided to go with Terry because why not, and she also wanted to fix the rest of his suspenders and maybe make him a suit that wouldn’t tear when he moved.

Turns out, Sharon took to Mari immediately, Cagney and Lace even more so. Marinette had loads of experience babysitting, she babysitted terrors on a weekly basis, ahem Manon, Ella, Etta, Chris, and so Cagney and Lacey were bascially nothing.

She loved the two and they loved her too, saying that “Mimi” was definitely the best babysitter they’d had, and Sharon and Terry agreed after seeing how easily the three got along. Marinette knew what made them tick, what made them tired and what made them happy, and nothing got past her.

When Lacey tried to steal cookies, Marinette was there, booping the girl on the nose and handing her one and telling her that she would’ve given them one if they had asked, but since they didn’t, only one cookie for the night.

That had the two of them sharp at attention and they went to sleep without a fuss for once, Sharon and Terry cried at the peaceful silence they hadn’t had in almost a decade.

Rosa taught Marinette to throw knives, which was kind of the same as a yoyo, just with more force necessary and a different angle of throwing. Marinette, using her cool guardian voodoo, summoned an undetectable dagger, that couldn’t be detected by metal detectors.

‘Why do you have this?’

‘...Why not?’

‘...Fair enough.’

Dumpy Man, also known as Charles, had taken to Marinette almost immediately, firstly because of the brilliant croque monsieur, and secondly because of the amazing paella recipe she shared with him.

Nikolaj had declared Marinette his ‘big sister Arin’ after trying one mouth of the paella and saw the girl talk back to his dad. Genevieve loved Marinette, who had made her a new scarf as soon as she noticed the drabby scarf that she was wearing.

Amy loved that Mari could keep up with her puzzles and riddles. The bluenette was amazingly clever and even gave Amy ideas on making a new binder. Jake loved that the girl was the MDC and even more so when he saw how well Amy and Mari got along.

Jake, Amy, Kevin and Holt got into a fight on who should have custody of Mari while she was here. (She ended up alternating the days she stayed with everyone in the squad.)

Marinette had ended up bonding with Hitchcock and Scully the most, forcing the two to clean their desks, goddamnit, and Hitchcock happened to be a big fan of Clara Nightingale, who was one of Mari’s closest friends and clients.

The fact that Scully spoke French, Hitchcock loved French pastries and Marinette living in a bakery helped matter loads too.

Eventually, the fact that Marinette was Ladybug became the squad’s most closely guarded secret. She’d gotten caught because Holt was a nosy parent and decided to pry into Marinette’s purse and conveniently found a cookie nibbling Tikki and a haughty looking Kaalki.

Jake had fangirled big time when Ladybug, looking rather grumpy, swung in and smacked the baddie on the head with her yoyo, hard enough that he’d go unconscious. Turns out, Ladybug was a very popular figure in New York.

After about a week in New York, Mari finally had to leave for Paris again. She was dreading it because of what lies Lila probably spun into making everything Mari’s fault, which made the girl dissolve into a small panic attack, and Rosa, Terry, Kevin, Amy, Jake and Gina wanted to commit cold blooded murder to the people that made this girl as sad as she was when she deserved the whole world.

Holt was very tempted to let them.

The squad and Kevin took a week of leave and followed Mari back to Paris, escorting her all the way to her classroom. Mr. Damocles had tried to stop them but a glare from Rosa and the sight of Terry’s muscles made him squeak and back away.

They could all hear the false tales pouring out of Lila’s mouth as soon as they reached the outside of the classroom.

‘Mlle. Bustier, surely Marinette will be punished for skiving off school and playing truant?’

They could hear Mlle. Bustier’s voice dripping with disappointment. ‘Rest assured, Lila, she will be punished accordingly.’

This made Amy extremely mad, hearing them talk so crudely about the girl she cared for very much, and she slammed the door open. The class jumped at the sound of the door hitting the wall, and Mlle. Bustier winced when Holt’s deadly glare looked her straight in the face.

It was then that the class noticed Marinette, who was feeling afraid and hiding behind Charles and Jake.

Max shot up to his feet when his eyes landed on Kevin. That was the Kevin Cozner, one of the most famous and respected teachers known to all of humanity.

Said Kevin had both hands on Marinette’s shoulders, pinning Max with a stare that made the boy’s feet turn stiff and he sat back down.

Murmurs and yells broke out in the classroom and Mlle. Bustier internally sighed at the trouble Marinette was causing. Really, if the girl didn’t skip school and cause a dramatic entrance, she would have been going through the lesson and maybe even getting a promotion, considering Kevin Cozner was here.

She mentally groaned and composed herself, wrenching Marinette out of Kevin’s grip and dragging her to the front of the classroom, where she proceeded to berate the girl loudly for skipping school for a week and causing an unnecessary scene in school.

Instead of looking frustrated or upset and cowing like the teacher though Marinette would be, Marinette only smiled coolly at the teacher. Amy strode forwards, plopping a stack of papers in the hands of the teacher before turning to Marinette and checking her arm, which now had purple bruises standing out in contrast to her pale skin.

Charles looked furious, and when Mlle. Bustier spluttered upon looking at the papers, which in bold, had the words ‘Sued’ on them, he took great pleasure in saying loudly, “You just got served, Caline Bustier.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then seemed to remember her students’ presences, and those students were currently looking at the exchange between the foreigners and their teacher with rapt attention.

Mlle. Bustier smiled nervously and raised her hands as if to placate the squad and change their minds about suing her.

‘Let’s talk in the corridor. More privacy.’ She explained, striding to the door. She stopped adruptly a dagger was pressed to the teacher’s throat.

She gulped and went slightly crosseyed looking down at the dagger before saying that the children shouldn’t see this and repeating that they should go out in the corridor to talk.

Suddenly, a voice spoke up from the room. It was Sabrina, looking confident and proud and very unlike the meek and timid student who constantly answered to Chloe’s every whim.

‘You didn’t give Marinette that liberty.’

Chloe didn’t look surprised when Sabrina stood up, looking up at the girl proudly. She then stood up and put in a word.

‘You just dragged Marinette to the front of the classroom and tried to scold her when you were the one who listened to Lie-la and didn’t bother to do a headcount before leaving the hotel, hell, before boarding the plane.’

‘You left her in New York City,’ chimed Sabrina, leering at the teacher, who shrunk back into herself.

‘Who do you think paid for her ticket back?’ Chloe smirked.

‘Goodbye, Caline Bustier.’ They spoke in unison.

Mlle. Bustier paled. Gina looked like she wanted to run away with Chloe and Sabrina, and Marinette looked to the two gratefully, the former giving the girl a nod while the other smiled broadly.

Amy spoke again, grinning manically at the redheaded teacher, reciting everything that she’d done wrong in her years as a teacher, whether it be when she was teaching old students from almost a decade ago, or now, when she was teaching Marinette’s class.

“Yes, Rosa, I learnt French specifically for this. I took a seminar, called The French Way to Reprimand A Crap-sack.”

Mlle. Bustier dug herself an even deeper hole as she frantically tried to pile the blame on Marinette, who was pressing the bruises on her arm with morbid fascination.

Gina leaned towards Caline, her breath hot against the teacher’s ear as she drawled in a rather threatening voice. “I know every little secret you have. It’d be best if you’d just mosey on out.”

Bustier shook her head even more, doubting Gina, who took great pleasure in calling out Mlle. Bustier’s shortcomings and dirty little secrets that she’d tried so desperately to bury.

“Caline Bustier. You had a student named Bridgette Jaeng a few years back. She died. Her death was written off as a accident, when that really wasn’t the case, was it.”

Her voice, although rather soft, echoed loudly in the room, ringing in the ears of Marinette’s classmates who turned to look at their teacher with horrified expressions on their faces.

“No! She--” Gina continued as if Mlle. Bustier hadn’t said anything at all.

“She fell down the stairs.” Gina made air quotes when she said fell. “She was pushed down the stairs by her bullies. She broke her neck on impact, and Bustier?” She laughed wryly.

“She saw the whole thing, but didn’t do anything to stop her students. She even went so far as to turn the security cameras off.”

Caline was growing increasingly pale but didn’t say anything for fear of making it worse.

“You bribed the principal of this school to hire you.” Gina’s voice, quiet and deadly cut through the tension in the room, and as if a dam broke, all hell broke loose and chaos was ensued.

Gina spoke up again, effectively making the class quiet down.

“You told Marinette to be the ‘best Marinette she could be’. You told her to not do anything when Lila and he posse bullied her. You turned off the cameras again when Lila walked down the stairs and sat there, bawling and lying about how Marinette pushed her down the stairs.” Gina’s voice came out in a hiss.

“You didn’t tell them how Marinette was expelled, huh. It was because Lila framed her for stealing a necklace that was found in her locker. But none of the students here are allowed to use locks for some stupid reason.’

The evidence was overwhelming. The contrast of the yelling from minutes ago was now replaced with a deadly silence as they mulled over Gina’s words.

Officer Raincomprix had shown up and arrested Caline a few minutes later, courtesy of Sabrina.

As Caline Bustier was dragged out of the room, she yelled on last time. “What gives you the right to arrest me? I was only looking out for my students!”

Holt smirked smugly, and everyone in the squad, bar Gina and Kevin, held up their badges, with the very unmistakable logo of the NYPD.

Caline was forcefully dragged away, shocked. And as she sat in the solitary confinement of her prison cell almost a month later, thinking about what she’d done, there was a knock on the door. The one person Caline thought she’d never see again stood in the doorway, the bars being the only separator between the ex teacher and her ex student.

Caline didn’t trust herself to speak, only staring at the girl.

Marinette stood there, patiently waiting for her to speak.

When she did, the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “I’m sorry.”

Marinette smiled. Not a pitying one, not a smug one, no. It was a sad smile.

“Apologies don’t change anything.” Marinette told her old teacher. “I can’t speak for Bridgette, but for what it’s worth, I forgive you.”

4.2k words

well yes. feedback and thoughts appreciated

i didnt reread this bc i dont like reading my own works they make me cringe so if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes im sorry oops

Asks are Open!

#caline bustier bashing #caline bustier salt #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #marinette is a queen #miraculous ladybug #mlb #gina is a savage #lyra speaks #hope u enjoyed this bc it took me a whole week to write

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frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

To Build A Home (8)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: angst, grief, more angst, hospital and blood mentions, major character death

A/N: I apologize personally to everyone that reads this chapter. we have sad!reader this time and angry!reader next time. we also get to find out how reader handles Rosa’s killer and who it is if you haven’t figured it out already. anyway, excited to hear your thoughts and even more excited for Sad Sunday tomorrow featuring B99 squad and Avengers finally!

Previous chapter here

Warm.

Your hands felt warm, each one held by either Jake or Amy. You couldn’t tell who was who anymore, you just knew that your foursome was missing a member. One that was losing blood faster than they could replace, one that you’d loved since you met, one that you promised to love until death parts you and then some. One that was slowly slipping away.

Warm.

When the couple had arrived after your call to Amy, followed by the rest of the squad they’d called on the way there, you were shivering. Not one person dared to ask why, you were simply covered in Terry’s jacket. It surrounded you in a warmth that reminded you of your wife’s embrace. The thought made you feel sick, but you pushed it aside, not having the energy for anything more than staring at the wall and waiting for less devastating news.

Hot.

The tears that coated your cheeks burned your skin, an unwanted reminder that you were still alive when the doctor told you her heart stopped for a final time. Jake and Amy’s sobs could be heard from beside you, and you pulled away from their grasp and pushed them toward each other, deciding to wrap your arms around yourself instead.

Cold.

You were the last to enter Rosa’s room to “say goodbye” before she was sent off to the morgue. A nurse attempted to give you her ring but you asked--begged--them to put it back on her finger, something you knew she’d want. You dared to touch her left hand with yours, forcing yourself to cover your mouth with your free hand when a scream threatened to break free. You hated the sensation more than anything in the world.

Cold metal on colder skin.

Arlo greeted you when you returned, sniffing the bag containing Rosa’s jacket, shoes, jewelry and phone. He whined at the door when you locked it, as if he knew that only one person coming home tonight was wrong. You simply dropped to the floor in front of the couch, opening your arms and welcoming him into your embrace. It was the only comfort you could offer him.

Your phone rang and rang until you turned it off completely, welcoming the silence. You were afraid to turn the TV on in fear of catching anything Rosa even slightly enjoyed, and you didn’t dare to look at the table where her favorite takeout had gone cold. Your furry son had drifted into slumber but your eyes were stuck open, barely taking the time to blink.

At some point in the night exhaustion took over, and you were suddenly waking to blinding sunlight and an insistent paw on your face from a pup that really needed to go outside. You walked him to the quieter area of the neighborhood Rosa always took him to, deciding to turn your phone back on as he did his business in a patch of grass. The missed calls and a few texts started rolling in immediately.

“Please call me. I’m worried about you.” -Amy

“Or at least send a text.” -Amy

“If your phone died, I’m sorry about this.” -Amy

“I love you so much, N/N. Also Amy wants you to call her back.” -Charles

“Take off as long as you need. We all care about you deeply and apologize for your terrible loss. We will all miss Detective Diaz to the greatest extent. Sincerely, Raymond Holt.” -Holt, of course

“I don’t know if Holt told you yet but you can take off as long as you need to, okay? I’ll be by later to check on you.” -Terry

You cleared them all, deciding after you were back inside of the apartment to call Amy. Fear pumped through your veins like unshed blood as the phone rang, terrified to break the quiet bubble you’d fallen into with a voice that would remind you that the events of the night before were real.

“Hello?” The deeper, groggy voice surprised you.

“Jake? Sorry, I didn’t mean to...I just wanted--”

“No no, it’s okay!” he responded, suddenly sounding much more alert. “Amy’s taking a shower and I like to sleep until it’s my turn. Um, anyway, I know this is the dumbest question in the world, but how are you? How do you feel?”

“Numb,” you answered immediately. “And like something’s missing but I can’t focus on what it is or it’ll destroy me.” You cleared your throat. “What about you and Ames?”

“Also feeling like something is missing.” You didn’t miss the way his voice cracked in the beginning. “It hit Amy right away but once she was able to stop crying all she could do was worry about you. When your phone stopped ringing she wanted to come over, but she also didn’t want to suffocate you if you needed space.”

“I appreciate it.”

A voice in the background and shuffling was heard, and suddenly you were hearing your best friend for the first time in hours.

“Hey! I’m sorry I called so many times last night. Were you able to get some sleep?”

“I think so, because suddenly the sun was out and Arlo was begging me to take him out to shit.”

A light chuckle was heard through the phone. “So do you need anything? I can pick up breakfast from that diner you like, or--”

“Actually, I could use a ride to the precinct if you’re working today. If not, I can just take a cab.” You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “I just don’t trust myself to drive yet.”

“Jake is going there soon to grab something, so he can take you. But are you sure you don’t want to wait a few days, at least?”

“I’m sure. I don’t want anyone else working on this case.”

After a short car ride full of you ignoring the tears in Jake’s eyes because you were wearing one of Rosa’s many leather jackets, you arrived at the precinct feeling a bit nervous. A surprised yelp left you when Jake suddenly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you firmly, but with care.

“Sorry,” he sniffled as he pulled away. “I don’t know if I did that because I thought you needed it or I did.” You simply granted him a weak smile and an understanding squeeze of your hand as you passed him.

A few moments of intimidation later, you were seated at Amy’s old desk with your laptop and the surveillance footage of last night, not being able to stomach sitting at your own across from Rosa’s. Your heartbeat began to pick up the farther you fast forwarded, until you stopped at the sight of Rosa on the screen.

She walked right into the view of the camera, a bag in her hand as she talked on the phone with you. You watched her hang up and start dialing again. Minutes passed and suddenly a person wearing all black with a covered face was running across the street toward her, being followed slowly by an older white man that was raising a gun. You watched with wide eyes and held breath as he shot sloppily, missing the runner and hitting your wife instead, just as her cab pulled up.

Luckily her body fell from view behind the yellow car, because your eyes refused to look away. The shooter took off as the cab driver scrambled out of the vehicle, frantically dialing on his cellphone as he came to the passenger side and onto the sidewalk. Shaking fingers used the mousepad of the laptop to rewind, pausing when the gunman appeared and zooming in on that older white man with graying hair. Noticing the area and realizing where the camera footage was downloaded from, you came to a conclusion.

You were on your feet in no time, obtaining your gun and keys to an unmarked vehicle fairly quickly. You didn’t have any minutes or seconds to spare now that you knew which piece-of-shit individual you had to pay a visit to, who was going to feel the hot anger that spread through your once cold and numb bones.

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @gaulty74 @jay-is-groovy @xetherealbeautyx

#to build a home #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz imagine #rosa diaz x fem!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic #b99 #stephanie beatriz

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johnny-and-dora · 4 years

Text

you and i are very close

"A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him."

or, jake & holt talk about fatherhood. (post 7x10)

read on ao3 -

“…So that’s the lowdown on the Broughton case. Charles and I are gonna head out and arrest them as soon as the warrant comes through.” Jake finishes, bouncing slightly on his heels as he finishes the update. Raymond Holt leans back in his chair, content with their plan of action.

“Excellent work, detective.” Holt says – but then finds himself mildly concerned when he only receives a subdued nod in reply. While he may deem it an appropriate workplace response to a captain’s praise, it is far from the excessive energy and enthusiasm that Jake usually exudes.

Raymond recalls the previous night’s events – a biological sex reveal party that led to Jake’s father being taken to the ER – and wonders if that might be placating the detective’s usually golden Labrador-like temperament.

“I trust that your father is in good health?” He asks tentatively, gesturing for Jake to sit down- he pauses for a moment before doing so, leg jostling in a way that increases Holt’s concern by 17.5%.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Sorry our party was kind of a full-blown disaster. Guess I should have expected that with three generations of Peraltas in the room.” He makes the self-deprecating remark with the light-hearted bravado Holt has come to expect from the detective, though it’s notably flatter than usual.

What’s more, his smile is more of a grimace, and he can’t stop fidgeting with the badge around his neck – a classic Peralta tell. Something is clearly bothering him, likely related to his complex relationship with his father and his own fatherhood looming.

A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him. It is an openness, a trust and a sincerity that Holt has earned over the years as Jake’s superior officer. Though he still finds himself exasperated by his stubbornness and fixation on action films, Holt sincerely values his respect and loyalty.

He frowns, trying to assess the best way to discreetly discern what could be causing the detective’s distress.

“I actually found the party to be rather enjoyable, save the alarming bloodshed. The carrots were rich in nutrition and I thought the cake’s green colour made a very interesting and progressive statement.”

Jake’s lips quirk up a little at that, and he sits straighter in the chair, so Holt must be doing something right.

“Thank you, Captain, but that actually wasn’t our intention. Just another screw-up.”

“I see.” He considers this new information briefly, before attempting to continue the non-case related chitter-chatter, something he usually avoids. “So, you are now aware of the biological sex of your child?”

“Oh, yeah! We’re having a boy.” Jake finally smiles genuinely, and Raymond can’t help but return it. He may not personally care much for small infants, but the thought of the bickering detectives he first met when he came to the Nine-Nine having a child together does inspire some fatherly pride over how far they’ve come.

“My congratulations to you both.” He nods again, but his gaze is still far away. Holt decides to subtly switch tactics.

“You know, whatever doubts may be plaguing you, I am certain you have absolutely nothing to be worried about. Your son is very lucky to have you both as parents.”

“What? I’m not, um, there’s absolutely zero doubts to be found here.” Jake’s eyebrows briefly shoot up to his hairline as he stammers some typically poorly concealed denial. Holt remains neutral, wishing he had done some research on the subject but doing his best to power through.

“It is perfectly natural to be anxious about such things.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the gentle encouragement is all that it takes for a veritable avalanche of emotions to trip over themselves as Jake speaks.

“I guess I just…I want to be the best dad I can be. I don’t want him to ever feel like…like he’s been abandoned or he’s alone. It’s crazy how much I already love this kid and I haven’t even met him yet, but I know I would do absolutely anything to keep him safe. And with my dad talking about this stupid Peralta father-son curse and my grandpa being a jerk and walking out of our lives all over again…I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to let him – or Amy – down. Ever.”

Holt is admittedly, a little overwhelmed. He and Kevin have never seen the appeal of conforming to heteronormative ideals of family life, and yet he values his place as the head of the chosen family he’s found at the Nine-Nine. The mysteries of pregnancy and childcare are complete unknowns to him, yet he finds himself completely certain that Jake and Amy will be great parents to their future son.

So, Holt does what he has always found it easiest to do, and he tells Jake the truth.

“I am not sure of this family ‘curse’ you speak of, but as your commanding officer for the majority of the past seven years, I know your doubts are ill-founded. On the contrary, the dedication and loyalty you have shown me, and every member of this squad, only makes me surer you will be a great father.”

“Really?” Jake says, hopeful but apparently still unconvinced.

“This job is not an easy one. You and I know both know first-hand how our lives can be affected by circumstances we cannot control. But you would never willingly let your family down, and the fact that you are so committed to doing everything you can for them is a sure sign that you never will.” Holt pauses briefly to let his sincerity sink in.

“Your son is going to love you, Jake. He will grow to enjoy many Thomas Cruise films with you, and I’m sure he will come to share your passion for…the transforming robot sewer turtles?”

“Feel compelled to tell you those are two completely different franchises, but I really appreciate the attempt and I will be emailing Michael Bay’s team about a potential cross-over.”

“Well. Regardless of the specifics of these cartoon turtles, I am sure you have understood my point.”

“Yes. Thank you, sir. I- that means, uh, a lot.” His thanks is, as usual, completely earnest, and Holt finds himself glad to have helped in any small way. He cannot completely solve the detective’s issues with fatherhood, but he is happy to be one consistent and stable presence for Jake to rely on. Just as he knows he can rely on him.

“You are welcome. And you are free to discuss any other personal issues you may have with me, although I assume Santiago may be better suited to such conversations.”

“She’s been telling me pretty much the same thing.” Jake admits, shifting in his seat. Raymond briefly wonders about the intricacies of their home life, whether they will discuss this conversation over dinner or perhaps during the commercials of some form of media content.

“Well, I recommend you listen to her. She has proven herself to be extremely perceptive and is rarely ever wrong.”

“I know.” Jake grins, a very specific smile on his face that Holt recognises has long been reserved for talking about Amy, even before they began their courtship. “Sometimes I still can’t believe she married me.”

Holt thinks of years spent watching them endlessly bicker and argue and tease each other, thinks of the intimacy affection he sees most often when they are inebriated at Shaw’s bar. He thinks of how ragged and distraught they’ve been each time they’ve been forced apart and how relieved they were to be back together. He thinks of officiating their wedding and accidentally intruding on their honeymoon, and above all, he thinks about each moment of their shared happiness together he has been privileged enough to witness.

“I do not believe she was wrong about that either.”

It’s an expression of sentiment which breaches many of his strict rules of conduct and professionality in the workplace, and he’s partly reluctant to be debasing himself so willingly. But then Jake’s eyes are shining with gratitude and his usual enthusiastic bright demeanour has returned and Raymond can’t help but feel relieved.

“Oh my god, I always knew you were our secret number one fan. Charles is going to be crushed.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Noooo, but I really want to stay and talk about how invested you are in our relationship- “

“-Please leave my office.”

Holt maintains his usual stony-faced composure until Jake shuts the door – only then does he allow himself to relax in his seat a little, fondly thinking of Kevin, Cheddar and the family he has found in the Nine-Nine. He makes a note to discuss stuffed animal varieties with Kevin at a later date so that they may have something to present Jake and Amy’s son when he arrives.

And when he gets to meet the newest addition to the Santiago-Peralta family a few short months later, held oh-so-carefully and preciously in the arms of a man he has come to consider a son, it is a meeting that he treasures for the rest of his life.

#b99 #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 #listen. i have a lot of emotions about soon-to-be-father jake and his gay work dad #so here you go #my writing #shut up sian

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