#taylor swift calendar wallpaper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captamysantiago · 6 years

Text

forever is a long time, babe, but we’ve got today

here it is, the jake and amy foster parent fic that no one asked for that’s been in the works since literally AUGUST. and also this is just part one which has been done since november but i’m a coward. i planned for this to have three parts but this one is a lot shorter than i thought it was so??? I might split them up as i go on we’ll see.

(also on ao3 if ur interested)

She’s sitting at their kitchen table next to her husband and across from a polished woman with her hair neatly pulled back and a kind smile. They’d been having a lovely conversation so far, tossing around stories about Jake with his god-kids and him ducking his head shyly in a way she doesn’t see often. The warm afternoon sun is shining through the window, bathing the room in natural light. It’s the picture of a perfect afternoon. And Amy has never been more scared in her life.

She’s been on countless stakeouts for dangerous criminals, been held at gunpoint, and spent weeks undercover in a high-security prison. She’s been risking her life for years and has come out stronger because of it. But this is a whole new kind of scary.

The woman sitting at their kitchen table is a social worker, and here they are, discussing the potential for them to have kids in their home. Kids with broken pasts and broken hearts, coming to them to be cared for for however long a judge deems appropriate.

Foster care isn’t something she’s ever considered. It was so far outside her radar she couldn’t even see it, and it certainly didn’t make it in her grand plan life calendar. But as much as she loves planning and knowing exactly when and where and how things will happen, sometimes they just do, and this time it just happened.

The conversation had started six weeks earlier, and oddly enough, they’d been at the site of a drug bust. The perp was suspected to play a role in a bigger investigation they were involved in so they were taking stock of the situation and getting the run down from the cop from a neighboring precinct.

Amy was taking detailed notes of what Detective Rogers was saying; Jake was standing next to her staring in the opposite direction. It wasn’t uncommon for Jake to tune out in a situation like this; he knew Amy was a meticulous note-taker so he’d have all the information he needed in writing the next day. But on this particular day it was something different. Amy could practically feel the nervous energy hitting her from where he was standing.

Her eyes followed Jake’s gaze to the corner of the room, where a little girl with dark hair was leaning against the wall clutching a ratty blue blanket.

Her pen faltered for only a split-second, causing nothing more than a smudge in her otherwise still perfect notes. Even still, Jake noticed the slip, and he turned his attention back to the detective in front of them. It wasn’t hard to tell his mind was still far away.

“Any other questions?” Rogers asked, as the briefing concluded.

Just as Amy started to shake her head, Jake cleared his throat, “Um, just one, and it’s no big thang, just curious is all, the kid over there, who’s that, who’s the kid?”

Rogers raised his eyebrows and glanced behind him at the little girl. “She’s the perp’s daughter. She was in the house when it was busted. Can hardly get a word out of her.”

“Big surprise,” Jake muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, not a thing.”

“Well, if that’s all,” Rogers said, closing the file and handing it to Amy, “I’ll be going then. Feel free to keep looking around and let me know if you have any other questions.”

With one last nod, he turned and walked off. Amy opened the folder, feigning interest in the contents. Jake took a few steps away, briefly acting as though he was inspecting a scratch in the wallpaper. Before she could consider saying something, he was walking in the direction of the little girl.

The girl watched with wary eyes as he came closer. He approached her cautiously, as one would approach a wounded animal. He was still several feet from her when his foot caught on the floorboard and he flailed his arms, barely catching himself before he hit the ground. At least, that’s what it looked like happened, but Amy knew this bit. It made Nikolaj laugh every time, and there was a glimmer of a barely-there smile on the little girl’s face now.

Jake raised himself up into a crouch, dramatically dusting himself off. “I’m such a klutz,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oh, I didn’t even see you there,” Jake said, now just around eye level with the girl. “I bet you don’t trip like that, do you?”

A shake of her head, miniscule, but there.

“I’m Detective Peralta, but all my friends call me Jake. We could be friends too. What’s your name?”

Blank stare.

“Alright, cool cool cool, don’t have to be friends, your call. I like your blanket though; I had one like that when I was little, isn’t that neat?”

Amy could practically see it, the little blanket still shoved in the back of their closet. It was a darker blue and it had his name stitched in the corner, but akin to to the blanket the little girl was holding in its ratty nature and holes in the corners.

This comment got a little head tilt out of the girl, and Jake seemed to take that as a good sign, continuing on, “I still have it now, actually. That blanket got me through some hard times. I bet yours does the same thing.”

He smiled, moving to stand up. But before he could turn around, she looked up.

“Ella,” she said, her eyes locking with Jake’s.

“It’s been very nice to meet you, Ella.”

And with that, Ella’s eyes were trained back on the floor. Jake turned and walked back to her, a sad smile set on his face.

A week later Amy had hardly heard Jake talk about anything else since. Jake had gotten hung up on things before, but it usually had more to do with when Taylor Swift would drop her next single. Not something this serious - this was big, and it didn’t seem to be going away.

It wasn’t as though Amy wasn’t worried about the little girl too - deep sad eyes like that were hard to get out of your head - but they were cops; looking out for displaced kids wasn’t in their job description.

Better to leave that to the professionals, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. And the next day when they’re watching Die Hard on the couch, she told herself that it was to get Jake’s mind off the situation.

She’d never seen him so distracted during his favorite movie, he kept tapping his fingers on his leg and looking away from the screen. He never looks away from the screen during Die Hard. He insists he notices something new every time he watches it, and usually he makes her warn him if she needs to use the bathroom so he can pause it before she walks in front of the screen. But on that particular day, it’s clear his mind is somewhere else entirely.

He only managed twenty-three minutes of fidgety silence before he picked up the remote and hit pause on the movie.

“Listen, Ames, I know logically there’s nothing we can do to help Ella, but -” he took a deep breath, allowing her only a moment for her heart to ache at the familiarity with which he says her name, “I can’t stop thinking about how many kids there are out there like her. I mean really, can you imagine? This city is a stinkhole of crime, seriously, people are awful. And I guess I’ve just never thought about it before how often there has to be kids involved, and where do they go? What happens to them? Shouldn’t we do something?”

He was talking a mile a minute and it took her a second of open-mouthed staring to catch up with what he’d said, and still she stammered for a response.

“Jake,” she said finally, “what are you saying?”

His gaze dropped to his lap, where he was wringing his hands on top of furiously bouncing legs. He let out a long breath and planted his feet on the floor, and when he looked back at her, his expression was stone cold serious.

“Have you ever thought about foster care?”

She hadn’t. But, as it turned out, he had. At length. Within minutes he had a dozen links pulled up on his phone with articles about foster kids and the statistics, both in Brooklyn and across the country. He talked at length about everything he’d read - Jake, who gets bored reading Buzzfeed articles if there aren’t a sufficient number of accompanying pictures, had read every word of countless articles ranging from the emotional toll on a child to what specific steps they’d have to take to get licensed in Brooklyn. He was so prepared for this conversation, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gone full Santiago-style and there was a binder hidden around here somewhere.

The conversation lasted hours after that, she had plenty of counter points to his well planned presentation about why they just couldn’t do this, but not only had he come prepared with facts, he was talking with a passion she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard from him. So in the end, although she told him that she’d have to think about it and then they’d talk more, they both knew he’d broken down her walls.

Before she knew it, they were filling out applications.

And all that led to here, this moment in their kitchen. Sitting with her legs crossed, one hand holding a pen hovering over her notebook, (“Amy,” the social worker had said when she first pulled it out, “you don’t have to take notes.” “It’s best if you just don’t question it” was Jake’s quick response) the other hand tightly grasping her husband’s.

“Well, I think it’s time we discuss the elephant in the room,” Helen, their social worker says.

Amy’s breath catches. She looks at Jake bordering on panic and he squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“And what’s that, Helen?” He asks.

“The issue of you going to prison for two months, Mr. Peralta.”

“Now wait a minute,” Amy starts, already feeling her blood pressure starts to rise, “that’s not the whole story, and you really should have more facts before you come in here and-”

“Ames!” Jake interrupts her, his other hand coming to cover their joined ones, and like every time he looks her in the eyes, for a brief second only the two of them are in the room, “It’s okay, babe. I got this.”

She nods, and Jake turns back to Helen, “Yes, I did in fact spend eight weeks in prison. My friend Rosa and I were undercover trying to take down a dirty cop and the operation went south. We were framed for some pretty major stuff, but in the end Hawkins, aforementioned dirty cop, was caught and Rosa and I were declared innocent. So that’s the story of the time I did hard time.”

Jake smiles and Helen nods. Logically speaking, Amy knows she must already know these things, but she has a tendency to get automatically defensive when people bring up prison.

“Justice seeker, I like that,” Helen says, scribbling something in her folder, “these kids need that.”

Jake smiled, he’d been called a hero before for the operation that had landed him in prison, but it was still a heavy subject that not everyone spoke fondly of, which was part of the reason Amy tended to jump to the defense. But it seemed that it only strengthened their social worker’s impression of them.

“Well,” Helen says in a tone of finality, “this meeting has gone wonderfully, you two are just the sort of people we need. You’ve seen firsthand the places and experiences these kids come from and thankfully that seems to have grown a sense of compassion rather than coldness. Kids in the system have been through a lot, and I think you guys can really help them grow past it. I can guarantee that you will be getting a stellar report from me.”

Instinctively, Amy turns to look at Jake. His expression is pure joy and she can feel it rubbing off on her. Throughout the whole process, she’s been much more wary of whether they should be doing this, but Jake has never once faltered. And now, seeing how thrilled and excited her husband is, she finds those same feelings coming to the surface for her. Maybe not in the most traditional sense, but before long she and Jake would be parents. Shaping young minds and all that, together. There’s definitely something thrilling about that.

“Thank you so much,” she hears herself saying, and her voice betrays the excitement she’d managed to keep at bay. Are there tears in her eyes? She looks at Jake again just as he turns and meets her gaze, finding her own watery-eyed smile mirrored back at her. This was really happening.

Helen is still smiling warmly at them when she speaks again, “Now,” she said, “there is something else I was hoping to discuss with you.”

Jake’s eyes went wide, “What? Is something wrong? You just said we were getting a stellar review, aren’t we still getting a stellar review? Did we do something wrong? Was it because I said orange soda is my favorite food? Because I promise we’ll feed children much more nutritious meals.”

Helen laughs, “No no, nothing like that. I’m fully confident any child in your home won’t be living on orange soda.” Jake lets out a breath of relief, and she continues, “Actually, it’s about a little girl.”

Amy and Jake exchange glances, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. All of this was about a little girl.

“A few weeks ago I was informed that a Detective Peralta seemed especially interested in a little girl whose case I’m in charge of, had even asked to be informed of what happened to her.”

Amy glances at Jake who had ducked his head, though she noticed the tips of his ears had turned red - she didn’t know that part. Although it doesn’t really surprise her either.

“I thought it was interesting that a cop had taken note of a child, and even made a note to get in contact with said cop after we’d found a long term placement for the girl. So imagine my surprise when I got word that a Mr. Jake Peralta had applied with his wife to be foster parents. Am I correct in assuming these two events are in some way related?”

“In a way, yes,” Jake says slowly, “Ella, the girl, I-I mean, she just really got me thinking you know? We do this kind of thing all the time, how often are kids getting wrapped up in it? That’s all.”

Helen nods, there’s a look in her eyes that says she knows there’s more to it than that. They all do. “Well,” she continues, “since I’m here, and since you did ask; Ella is currently in a temporary foster home. The placement was supposed to be on a long-term basis, but she hasn’t exactly been an easy case, more than her current foster family thought they could handle certainly. Because of the reports we’re getting back, the agency is looking into moving her to a group home. Personally, I believe she will do much better with someone who is willing to put in the extra effort to convince her to trust them. Before I go on, Jake, how did you know her name? I don’t remember there being anyone there that day qualified to give you information about her.”

“I-uh, I didn’t realize I wasn’t supposed to know. She, uh, she told me?” Jake was stammering, trying to get his answer right in an uncertain situation.

Helen raises her eyebrows, looking impressed. “Jake, if you got her to tell you her name, then you managed to get more pleasant interaction out of her in five minutes than her current foster family has in five weeks. Now, normally I wouldn’t do this, but this is a unique situation.”

She reaches into the bag by her chair and pulls out a manila folder. There were several different papers sticking out the sides, but it wasn’t overly thick and there was nothing written on it to indicate what was inside.

The social worker takes a deep breath, like even she isn’t 100% sure about what she’s doing, then hands the folder to Amy. She opens it, Jake leaning over her shoulder to see the contents. The first page is a report dated back to the day of the drug bust. On the page is a grainy picture of a scared little girl with dark hair and dark, scared eyes, and at the top of the page is a name: Ella Spearing.

Spearing is a name she recognizes, it was the name all over the arrest reports from the same day. It was startling to see it attached to such an innocent little girl.

“As I’m sure the two of you already know, Ella’s mother was sentenced to twenty years to life for being a repeat offender. Her father has so far been untraceable, and her mother had been estranged from her family for so long that none of them even knew she had a daughter, and they don’t want anything to do with her.” She shook her head, “It’s hard to believe that they would hold the actions of her mother against her, but that’s the situation we’re in right now.”

Jake looks up from the file Amy is holding with an almost baffled look on his face, “Wait, the perp was a woman? I mean, I knew that. We knew that right?”

He looks at Amy and she almost laughs at the absurdity in an otherwise very serious conversation, “Yes, Jake, we knew that.”

“Right, yeah,” he continues, despite her exasperated looks begging him to stop, “I mean, not that women can’t commit crimes, women can totally sell drugs! I mean, that’s not what I meant. It was just a really large scale network and I wouldn’t normally expect - I mean - huh. It was a woman, interesting. Anyway go on.”

Amy and the social worker both stare at Jake for a long time before Amy shakes her head, much more well practiced in moving past his word vomit.

“Anyway,” she says, “why are you telling us this? We’re not even licensed yet.”

Helen, who still looks a little taken aback by Jake stating confidently that women can sell drugs, finally turns and addresses Amy, “I would be willing to push for an exception to be made. If you two were willing to foster Ella on what could potentially be a long term basis, I would talk to the agency about expediting your licensing process. Now, like I said, she hasn’t exactly been easy, so I don’t need or expect an answer today, but because of the sensitive and somewhat urgent nature of her case, I would need an answer - whether yes or no - by the end of the week. I encourage you to look over her file and determine whether you think you’re ready. Or, if you don’t think so, I can take it now and rest assured, you will still get your stellar report.”

“We’ll keep the file,” says Jake quickly, “and get back to you as soon as we’ve reached a decision.”

“Wonderful.” Helen stands up from her seat, “Well I won’t keep you any longer, it’s been great meeting with you two, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.”

Jake and Amy both stand up, shaking hands with the social worker and saying their own goodbyes. It’s only when their front door closes behind her that they look back at each other.

“That went… well,” Amy says, still trying to process everything that had been said.

“Yes I guess it did,” Jake says shakily. He’s already walking back to their kitchen table and picking up the file Amy had left sitting there.

“Guess we better read this,” He looks up at her and she nods.

“Guess so.”

They both stand there staring at each other and back at the folder for an indeterminate amount of time, then Jake opens the folder and they both sit back down at their kitchen table and start reading.

The first things they learn are basic information: She’s four years old, no siblings, she has no record of ever being part of a daycare or preschool. Other things they already knew or had been told about her mother and extended family. It made Amy’s blood boil a little that not one of her blood relatives were willing to take her, but she pushes that aside for now.

The reports from her foster family are less than glamorous; Helen wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t pretty. If they did this, it wouldn’t be easy. They’d be signing up to bring a child into their home who didn’t want to be there, and certainly wouldn’t want to trust them.

The reality was though, that now that they knew about her, it was nearly impossible for them to say no. Amy knew Jake would never be able to live not knowing what became of this little girl, and she had to admit that it would eat her alive.

They read the whole thing front to back and then they talk for hours about what it would mean for them and their lives and whether they could handle it.

Despite the extra three days between now and when they had to give an answer, their decision was made by the end of the night. The next day, Amy sends an email; through a string of formalities and official and professional sounding phrases, it translates to “We’ll do it, we’ll take her.”

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction #b99 fanfiction #my writing

40 notes · View notes

flirting-with-psychology · 7 years

Text

Who was the last male you hugged? My dad I think

Who was the last female you hugged? My mom

So, how was your day today? It was pretty good

What are your plans for tomorrow? My dad wants to take down the holiday decorations

When was the last time you actually smiled and meant it? Today

I bet you’re in love with someone, who? Yes, but he has a girlfriend. He knows how I feel though and we’re good friends

What do you hear right now? Nothing

What does your last text say? That was good!

If you had to chose between your boyfriend/girlfriend or your best friend to hang out for a fun day out, who would you chose? My best friend since I don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend

What movie do you really want to see that’s out? Moana

What was the best memory made so far this year? The year has not had many days yet. Probably making my moment calendar from last year

What’s your favorite sleeping position? My side, cuddling my stuffed dog

Who is someone you wish you could wake up to everyday? A boyfriend, idk who yet

Why is the world still existing? Because that’s how spacetime works

Who was the last person you kissed? I think it was this one hot dude at a band party in October. Don’t think I’ve kissed anyone since then

What does your day mostly consist of? Waking up in the afternoon, tumblr, going to bed in the morning

What’s the best thing about being in a relationship? I wouldn’t know would I

Who did you last cry in front of? My mom I think

Name five things that make you happy. I’m bored of this question

When it comes to jeans: skinny, flared or boot cut? Flared

Do you wear white socks, or fun ones? Brightly colored, so I guess on the fun side

Whose your favorite band? Taylor Swift is my favorite artist, but she’s not technically a band. Collabro then

Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of? This one girl from my high school who had really bright green eyes

Whats something you’re excited for? Making my final film project

Who is someone you miss? I miss getting to like Brandon. Nothing’s really changed though except my perception of a possibility

Would you ever lick a rat for $1,000? Yes

Who was the last person you received a note from? I got birthday cards from my family

What was the last thing you highlighted? A sticky note

Name one class you’re taking that you find not necessary in the least bit. I’m on break

How often do you shower? Every day

Do you sleep with or without clothes on? With PJs

Who was the last person you talked on the phone with for over an hour? Probably my parents

What are your plans for tonight? Tumblr and hopefully go to bed at a reasonable hour

One thing you and your best friends always do when you hang out? Idk?

What were you doing at 12am last night? Watching Glee

Call or text? Text

What’s your favorite thing about Facebook? Facebook stalking people

What about Tumblr? Funny posts

Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day: Usually no one, but if something really happened then my mom

What is your favorite ring on your phone? I use the dog bark

Who is the 2nd person on your missed call list on your cell phone? My dad

What shirt are you wearing? Blue tank top with wooden beads

Do you like someone? Yes

Favorite age you have been so far? Idk, they’ve all been different

Tell me about the last time you danced in the rain: I can’t remember

Do you need to know everything about someone’s past? No?

Have you ever had a true one-night stand? Yes

Would you have a ‘Happy Button’ installed on your body, connected to your body, connected to your brain, which would instantly make you very happy whenever you pressed it? Yes but I’d abuse it

Did America really put a man on the moon? Yes

How well do you handle criticism? Not as well as I’d like to admit. But I don’t want people to be afraid of telling me things so I try to give the impression that I can take it well

Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Ideally no, I’d like to date someone about equal to me so I don’t feel insecure. But one of the guys I like is a lot purer than me

Is it better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all? Yes

Would you prefer if good things happened, or interesting things? I’d like a mix. All good would be boring. Interesting would be ok as long as it wasn’t all bad but I’d get frustrated if I never got anything good

What is your current wallpaper? A cool rainbow reflection in the San Antonio river

#survey

3 notes · View notes