#no mention whatsoever of wind or a breeze or air in general

[chainsawworld]

Also monsoons boss theme is the only wind of destruction boss theme to not. Actually. Bring up wind at all

[chaosbrewing]

vitamin d

The sun had risen some time ago, but bright purples and pinks still remained in the gorgeous Swiss sky, setting it ablaze with a myriad of colors. It was as if someone had dipped a fan or aquarelle brush in a series of pastels and haphazardly darted it across a pale blue canvas back. The day thus far was particularly clear, with a few puffy clouds dotting the otherwise empty horizon. Dappled light fell upon the snow-covered alps that formed the backdrop to the picturesque scene presented by Mother Nature to all who chanced to see it.

The Frankenstein family home stood in stark contrast to this image of gaiety and peace. Although the outside was trim and quite appealing to the eye, the inner halls of the manor were quiet and dark—spare a few servants moving from place to place. For the most part, however, it was silent. Every room was plunged in darkness; human life seemed to be entirely gone from the place, beyond the few scurrying about to do their daily duties. One of the few people walking through the halls, dressed in the uniform of one who has dedicated their life to the service of a family, was walking room to room and throwing open the heavy brocade curtains. As the fabric parted, the gilded ceilings of each room glinted and gleamed with reflected light. This did little to combat the encroaching darkness of the rest of the unhappy house, which seemed to actively repel all that which sought to bring joy to the dwelling.

There was one force that could not be stopped, however. The very mention of it brought delight and warm smiles to the faces of all the household servants—and even the master of the house. Like a warm summer’s breeze, it swept through the home and brought color and livelihood back into every corner, nook, and cranny. It was impossible to feel bad; at the very least, one’s spirits were lifted greatly by the force, and from there it was not a far journey to sheer bliss. Whenever it appeared, it was welcomed wholeheartedly. The servants had a particular affection for it, as very little seemed to hold sway over their master’s mood beyond the miraculous force.

Upon the front door came a familiar tap-tap-tap; the maid who was dusting the front parlor immediately snapped to attention. Her duster fell to the floor as she hastened to confirm her suspicions. A quick glance out the window and the acknowledgement of a carriage drawing away prompted her to quickly rescue the fallen cleaning tool and rush off to locate the butler.

“It’s Master Clerval!” she cried out, bursting through the doors into the servants’ quarters. “Master Clerval has arrived.”

The butler, who had been enjoying a cup of tea at the table, rose to his feet and strode off towards the front door. He was followed eagerly by the young maid, who was nursing quite the attraction to young Master Clerval and was sore for any attention from the man.

“Master Clerval! Thank you for coming,” the butler hummed, opening the door.

Henry beamed, running a hand through his thick auburn hair and further messing up the already-tangled curls. His warm brown eyes cast a fond glance upon the inside of the grand foyer, idly taking note of the fact that naught had changed since his last visit. The young man was clad in a smartly-cut suit of a pale tan silk, with a crisp white linen shirt and a finely tailored vest in a shade two tones darker than the tailcoat. His collar was high and wrapped with a baby blue cravat, again cut from fine silk.

“‘Tis no trouble at all!” he replied merrily. “In all circumstances, I seek to do the best for my dearest friend. In which room has he sequestered himself now?”

“His study, sir,” the butler sighed, stepping aside and holding the door so Henry could enter the home. “He shut himself up again after your last visit. I had hoped it would be a passing fit, but…”

“With Victor, it never is,” Henry sighed softly, shaking his head. “He is quite intelligent, but he really is not wise.”

The maid was standing behind a column, occasionally peeking out and gazing at the handsome young man standing in the doorway. It was after several such attempts that Henry caught notice of her. She squeaked and jumped about a foot in the air; her starched white petticoats were visible for the briefest of moments as her black skirt came up. Immediately she began to retreat, cheeks bright red and hands clenched against the white ruffles of her apron.

“Now, now, don’t be afraid,” Henry chuckled. Quite smoothly, he stepped forward and managed to grab her hand, which he then raised to his lips.

The maid practically fainted as he brushed his lips across her skin. She turned redder still, mortified that she had been caught but pleasantly surprised that her youthful fantasies had been indulged.

Henry laughed softly, the sound carefree and light, before turning back to the butler. A sad little smile played upon his lips, teasing the corners of his mouth slightly upward but not masking the sorrow in his eyes.

“I shall see to Victor now,” he hummed, offering the man a nod before quickly heading towards the stairs.

The butler nodded back before approaching the maid and admonishing her with a stiff hand.

“Your fantasies are hardly of importance when it comes to the master’s health,” he said sternly. “That being said, Master Clerval would never feel that way for you. He has a...particular kinship with our master.”

“Kinship, sir?” the maid frowned.

She paused.

“...ah.”

“Not a word outside of the house,” the butler ordered her. She nodded meekly in response. The two quickly headed back to the servants’ quarters.

Henry had begun to ascend the stairs to the higher floors of the manor. His well-shod feet were light upon each stair tread, barely prompting a creak from any of them; many years of visiting had schooled him in regards to which steps produced louder sounds than the others. His ascension was smooth and quiet, perfectly suited for the temperament of the house.

The second floor was equally dark as the first floor, if not moreso. The curtains here had not yet been opened; the amount of activity on this floor was even less than that on the main floor. This was no deterrent to Henry, however; he glanced around and sighed before continuing through the house. Mahogany paneling rose halfway up the walls, lining the hall as if it were a tunnel. The floors were covered with wool rugs, each one woven with the utmost craftsmanship; oriental silk rugs were used only where very little foot traffic was received, as they wore at a much quicker pace than the woolen rugs.

At the end of the hall was a small oak door. Henry quickly approached this door and opened it to reveal a spiral staircase. It was this staircase that he began to climb, breath hitching slightly with each step. He was not out of breath; rather, he was slightly winded, but he was in excellent physical condition and thus paid no mind to it. His pale, freckled cheeks were tinged with the slight blush of exertion.

By the time he had arrived at the top of the staircase, he was quite flushed. There was a short, dark hallway leading to another door; this was his intended destination, as evidenced by the slowing of his steps upon approach. Pale knuckles rapped against polished wood. The honeyed voice spoke again.

“Victor? Victor, are you there?”

Behind the door was a personal study belonging to the master of the house, Victor Frankenstein. It housed, among other things, a desk, scientific apparatuses, bookshelves, and dozens of miscellaneous papers scattered with no system of organization whatsoever. To order it all would require the creation of some sort of massive catalogue to keep track of each item’s location amidst the controlled chaos. It was rare that guests were allowed in; Victor preferred to keep to himself, and to keep his projects and experiments to himself. For that reason, the room was filled with dust and general debris from the lack of a proper cleaning for god knows how long. Although several windows were built into the walls, all of the shades were drawn and there was only a bit of dwindling light from a sad stub of a candle sitting on the desk.

Victor groaned. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced; the black locks had become greasy, as he had not bathed for some time. A few gray and black strands dropped in front of his eyes, temporarily obscuring his vision. The young man stretched against the back of his chair—upon which his tailcoat had been discarded—, wincing as his spine cracked multiple times, and blinked a few times in a half-hearted attempt to wake himself up. Indeed, not only had it been some time since he had bathed, but it had been ages since he had slept properly—falling asleep and drooling all over his papers did not count as proper sleep.

“Victor? Victor, answer me!” came the voice again. It was only this second time that Victor realized it was from beyond the door, meaning that he was still alone in his study.

“Go away,” he muttered sourly, picking up his quill from where it had fallen on the floor. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, a crisp white against the strangely bright aquamarine hue of his irises, and scratched at his neck behind his jabot before attempting to refocus on the papers before him. This task proved challenging, however, because Henry had begun to pound on the door.

“Victor, if you do not open this door, I will have to force my entry!” Clerval cried. His throat felt fuzzy from all the shouting, but he deemed it important enough to remain straining his voice—after all, Victor was his dearest friend.

Frankenstein had not expected this. He had assumed that, being spurned, Henry would turn away and leave him in peace. However, it was clear that his friend had other actions in mind, and if he wanted to avoid having to replace the door to his study he needed to haul himself to his feet and unlock the door.

Sighing, Victor pushed himself up by leaning on the desk. He turned to take a step and was caught off-guard by the fuzzy feeling that filled his lower limbs; having been seated for so long, his legs had fallen asleep. He took one shuffle of a step forward and promptly fell onto the floor with a rather loud thump.

“Victor! Are you alright?!?” Henry cried, hearing the sound and automatically fearing the worst. He quickly began to fiddle with the lock, trying his hardest to get the door opened without damaging it.

“Schieße,” Victor spat. “I am fine, Henry! Do not—”

The door flew open.

“Victor!” Henry cried, rushing to his friend’s side. The latter could do naught but lie back against the wool rug in mild agony and internally sigh.

“What are you doing on the floor? Did you fall?! I heard you’ve been locked up in here for some time. Do you ever listen to me?”

Clerval’s chastising comments went unnoticed by Victor, who was busy staring into the other man’s dreamy brown eyes. A soft sigh of longing escaped Frankenstein’s lips.

“When was the last time you bathed?” Henry continued. “God, Victor, must I constantly be around to mind you? Let’s get you into the bath.”

Victor suddenly found himself in the arms of his friend. He immediately attempted to free himself, squirming in Clerval’s grip. Secretly, really, he didn’t want to move; his ear was against Henry’s chest, and he could just barely make out the beating of the other man’s heart. It was warm and cozy, too, a comfort he had been lacking for some time.

“I’m not letting go, Victor,” Henry said sternly. He shook his head disapprovingly, auburn curls flying every which way, and continued to carry Frankenstein down the hall and to the spiral staircase.

Victor watched Henry’s face with a sense of fond amusement, letting his limbs dangle limply over his friend’s arms. It took him several seconds to realize which room they had entered.

“Henry, I thought you weren’t serious!” he cried, voice squeaking in alarm.

“You require bathing, Victor, and it seems the only way that will be accomplished is if I myself aid in the completion of that task,” Clerval muttered, setting Victor on a chair and beginning to undo the man’s jabot.

Despite Victor’s protests, it was clear that Henry would not budge from his position on the matter. Some time later found Victor in the bathtub, face red from embarrassment. Henry was casually ogling him.

“Please look away,” Victor muttered.

“Nope,” Henry replied cheerfully.

Victor sighed deeply, trailing his fingers along the edge of the porcelain bathtub. The clawed feet rested evenly on the floor, an easy place to rest his gaze.

Anywhere away from Henry.

“Cheer up, Victor,” the man in question said softly. “Let’s get you outside and into the sun.”

Eventually, Clerval managed to get his friend into a fresh set of clothing. The old garments were quickly collected by a maid to be put straight into the wash, as they were in sore need of a cleanse. He took Victor’s hand in his own and led the way outside.

“It’s so...bright,” Victor mumbled, shielding his eyes as he glanced up at the sun.

Henry rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Victor, that’s called the sun,” he said patiently. “It gives us light. Or, at least, it gives light to those of us who don’t hole ourselves away in dark, dingy rooms.”

He set off in a specific direction, dragging Frankenstein along with him. Victor’s feet trailed through the grass with no small lack of enthusiasm.

“Where are we…”

The young scientist never finished his question. Henry was gesturing, beaming, to a blanket and basket set beneath an ancient-looking tree. A small brook lay between them and the idyllic scene; this his galant friend did splash through with quite a deal of gaiety.

“Join me, Victor,” he smiled, sitting down upon the blanket.

Victor did not need to be told twice. He hurried to cross the stream and seat himself next to Henry, where he picked up a book and began to read in the comfort of the quiet countryside. After some time, he became aware that he was leaning against Henry. He shifted to look up at his friend, who was wearing a content smile.

The kisses came easily. The simplest of thoughts produced a slight shift in body position; lips pressed against lips, soft and gentle as a lamb’s wool. Long, slender fingers tangled themselves around black locks, caressing and stroking Victor’s hair. The young man stretched and leaned into it approvingly, letting out a happy little sigh.

“Victor?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” came the simple response.

“But for the love of god, don’t make me pull you out of that study again.”

[chuckling-chemist]

31 Days of Fanstuck Day 9: Dontoc: Sleep

Dontoc looked out among the sweeping fields of red poppies. Not a single soul, not consort nor honeybee nor troll, appeared anywhere within the flowers. It all remained still in the eternal dusk of his land, The Land of Magic and Ink, void of any sort of wind or breeze. 

He still hadn’t gotten used to it, really. The lack of….anything. Yes, there might be crumbling towers and inky black lakes criss-crossing the landscape, but it lacked echo. There were trees and forests throughout the land, but not a single leaf so much as twitched in the open air. There were plants, but the only real smell was the constant ozone-like smell in the air. He found plenty of consort villages like every other troll, but they avoided him like the plague. Those that didn’t, seemed to think he was a stain on the whole planet and treated him as such. For many parts of LOMAI already, it made understanding and navigation difficult. 

At least the various underlings, strangely shaped like a hybrid of imps and his moirail they may be, were simple enough with his tome. 

Not to mention, being ignored wasn’t anything too terribly different from his formative sweeps. He already managed to piece together the basics of the land, how their economy worked and the various differences between each consort and their colored poppy preferences based on the color scheme of the village itself. Overall? It was simple: the consorts farmed poppies and traded among the other villages. Different colors all meant different things to each village, but they weren’t all the same.

None of that was important though. Because the poppy fields were dying.

This one though, this one seemed okay. This field of poppies, for whatever reason, retained its deep red color despite the others turning brown. On one hand, Dontoc knew he needed to find out why this one field, so far away from the castle yet still perfectly safe from whatever destruction wreaked havoc on them, was fine. On the other, he had so many other things to do. Goodness knows how long it had been since he’d even opened up his husktop to check on the status of the game’s grist hoard and his client player, Ardeen. 

He took a few cautious steps through the twisting stepping stone path through the poppies with a yawn. 

When did he sleep last? He can’t even remember. His day terrors got so bad some mornings he simply tired himself out to sleep, and sleeping in the Medium only made them worse. Glacin and Pallia were both insistent he should awaken on a planet called Derse. It hadn’t happened.

Spritelog chat opened with ALUALASPRITE ALUALASPRITE: Did you know that poppies represent death and sleep? DONTOC: I αm No+ Sure I Needed +o Know +hα+, βu+ +hαnk You. I Suppose.

ALUALASPRITE: That was a hint. You need to go to sleep. Can’t keep avoiding this eventually. DONTOC: I αm Well Awαre. ALUALASPRITE: Aware you need to sleep or aware I was hinting? Because you do. Trust me. I’ve been there. You need sleep.

She really is Valeba’s ancestor.

Dontoc started to type up a pleading response to stop worrying about him on his palmhusk, but all that came about was another yawn. Alualasprite had a point, unfortunately. He did need to sleep. He just didn’t want to.

The longer the path twisted and turned through the field, the more he noticed that no, this field was also slowly dying. Hidden among the bright red poppies, others stood weakly, wilted and withered. Some other patches looked completely barren, stripped wholly of any type of flora whatsoever.

Slowly, he stopped paying attention to where his feet were going next and only on the flowers. He didn’t even notice the sleeping violet salamander laying on the ground until Dontoc full-on kicked the poor farmer. The violetblood recoiled instantly, shrinking down to the consort’s smaller height as the consort himself groggily woke up.

“Oh! My deepest apologies!” he said. “My own tiredness has gotten the better of me, I am afraid, however sleeping at this moment is not exactly conducive to my mental health and--”

“Ah, screw your trap shut. I don’t care about any of that.” The salamander stretched his arms high into the sky and yawned. Even with Dontoc shrinking himself, he only looked to be a fraction of Dontoc’s height. “I’m awake now. That’s what’s important.”

“You…” he blinked owlishly, running a hand through his hair. “You are not upset? Like the other consorts?”

“Nah. Been asleep there for who knows how long! Had to be the best sleep of my life! Plus I’m too tired to care.” The salamander chuckled, the action blowing a water bubble out into the air that popped onto the closest poppies. “I’m gonna go back to the village. Wake up and take care of the big stuff. See ya round, kid.”

He stood, dumbfounded at the salamander’s complete nonchalance as he stumbled through the path. Yet, despite being half drunk on sleep, the salamander didn’t step on a single flower. It gave his erratic walking pattern an almost hypnotic quality, one that following it alone immediately brought the sleepiness from before back to full force. Tired eyes made his vision fade faster and faster and before he knew it, it went to black.

Just a quick eye rest...then back...

Back...to the missions at hand….

Need to….need to…

“Dontoc?”

That was Alualasprite’s voice. He recognized it distinctly. Recognized it in that it sounded exactly like Valeba’s, but with a twinge of strange motherly concern. Unlike Valeba’s general concern. Totally different. 

Or maybe it was Valeba’s. His earpiece was still firmly lodged in his ear, after all. And he wasn’t currently one for noticing vocal nuances at this stage.

He felt something soft underneath him. The poppies, he thought distantly, it must be the poppies. Not like he was going to open his eyes and find out. Not when his eyelids felt like lead.

Something draped on top of him. Something pleasant and warm. And soft. How nice. It made it so easy to just drift...drift off into sleep...

“...Dontoc?”

The new voice jolted him awake with a start. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, but it certainly wasn’t LOMAI. Not unless LOMAI was purple and black now. With some horrific eldritch scribbled all over the walls. And Glacin’s damned beak mask’s empty eyes staring straight into his soul.

“Glacin,” he muttered. He shook his head, forcing the immediate disdain out of his brain. Glacin had a reason for being here. A good reason, likely. Neither cared enough for the other enough for a casual stroll through their dreams. 

“Why are you ah, well….” he trailed off, hand going into his hair absently, “why are you here?”

“Someone had to chase off those nasty little horrorterrors so you can finally join the rest of us here.” Dontoc caught the amused chuckle from underneath the mask. Normally such would irritate him, but for whatever reason he got the idea Glacin had every right to be smug. “It’s just a pity for the both of us it had to be me.”

[elsaclack]

HELLO the general consensus is that a masterpost would be Good so!! here i am!! masterposting!! this is split by fandom in reverse-chronological order (newest on top) but i will tell u i’m not even gonna TRY with the one-shot collections bc honestly i have. No Memory Whatsoever as to when i posted those in relation to the independent fics lmao. most are on ao3 only but i will include tumblr links where applicable!! and if you think of one i’ve written (or that you think i’ve written) that you don’t see on this list, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask about it!!

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE

kiss prompt #26

2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

AO3

kiss prompt #25

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

AO3

kiss prompt #24

7. routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing

[PLATONIC]

AO3

kiss prompt #23

10. staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

AO3

kiss prompt #22

12. a hoarse whisper "kiss me"

AO3

kiss prompt #21

18. kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

AO3

kiss prompt #20

19. kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing

AO3

kiss prompt #19

15. a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

AO3

kiss prompt #18

8. being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterward

AO3

kiss prompt #17

11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

AO3

kiss prompt #16

16. when one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead

AO3

you’re a king, and i’m a lionheart

“What about...what about Jacob?” An overwhelming sense of rightness settles light as air over Roger’s shoulders as he turns the name over in his mind. Jacob. Prince Jacob. Prince Jacob of the House of Peralta, Duke of Southport. “Jacob,” he murmurs, and he could swear his son smiles. The sun breaks low on the horizon the morning of Prince Jacob’s birth - and far, far away, across a vast forest and a roiling sea beyond it, a lurking Duchess begins to plot.

"In which Jake is the prince notorious for running head-first into danger and Amy is the main guard in charge of keeping him alive."

AO3

and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

He can’t remember exactly how old he was when Halley’s Comet blazed through the sky, but he was old enough to at least understand that what he saw was, for most people, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. He remembers the blinding missile-like blur of pure light that streaked across the inky black sky, the feathery trails of starlight that followed along behind her as she tore through the galaxy, the way she flickered and winked as she disappeared beyond the horizon.

And he remembers his mother telling him, in a voice he recognized even then to be warbling with reverence and emotion, how lucky he is to be among those lucky few who will get to witness Halley’s blazing trail twice in one lifetime.

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #3

“sometimes in the dead of night when you think you can’t make it, you might find i left a light beside the bed for you, ‘cause i’ve been there, too”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #2

“That drink you spilt all over me, lovers spit left on repeat, my mom and dad let me stay home, it feels so scary getting old”

AO3

untitled song lyric prompt #1

“I’ve already packed my promises, they’re waiting by the door”

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #3

inside jokes

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #2

unmitigated joy

AO3

the good place frozen yogurt prompt #1

grandma’s kisses

AO3

now that the weight has lifted, love has surely shifted my way

“Y’know what? Just - just go ahead. Ruin it. I don’t care. It’s just a dumb ceremony anyways. I love Jake, and I know he loves me, and - and we don’t have to have some big fancy ceremony to prove it. I’m going to marry him,” she says slowly, firmly, “and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

AO3

untitled prompt #25

"Okay so what about a fic based on pregnant amy santiago wearing a bathrobe?"

AO3

i’m on the edge of a broken heart

Amy Santiago is a vision of beauty.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly winded by the mere sight of her. He falls back to his heels, lets his hands fall down to his sides, and watches as she slowly paces toward him. “I was just…I thought I might…clean.”

Aside from reaching to toss her shirt and purse across the chaise to his right, she remains very still. “You never clean.” she finally says after a long stretch of silence.

There is no inquisitiveness to her tone. There is no confusion in her face. It’s a statement of fact, yes, but the complete lack of emotion in her entire demeanor is a clear and flashing neon sign pointing to the calm before the storm.

AO3

je vais t’attendre là

On the morning of April 28th, Jake Peralta wakes to the smell of pancakes burning on the griddle.

He can tell when he rolls just slightly on his side that the blankets have been pulled up and neatly tucked in over the other half of the mattress, but even that slight change in angle brings him in contact with a part of the mattress still warm from Amy’s sleeping body. His shirt is also still warm where it’s stretched across his shoulders - there’s even a spot on the back of his neck that is cooler than the rest, probably leftover from the kiss she pressed there before she rolled out of bed.

He smiles as he rubs his fingertips over the spot. How she managed to burn breakfast in what is likely just a matter of minutes is entirely beyond him.

AO3

that i need you because it’s so hard to be who i am

But then it’s 7:30 and the last of her belongings are finally unloaded and carefully placed in and on her new desk and she’s straightening up the last picture of the two of them from the night they got engaged right beside her brand new computer monitor while she talks about what they should order for dinner (she’s been dealing with a hankering for good Chinese food ever since Vin mentioned the authentic Chinese cuisine he ate the last time he was in Tianjin and Jake is definitely not still vaguely jealous of the general lifestyle Vin leads) and Jake’s stomach is hollow, hollow, hollow.

That’s what makes the rumbling so loud, he thinks.

AO3

you look happy to me

The ball is several hours underway by the time Amy manages to track her children down again - out on the terrace of all places. The doors are propped open to welcome the balmy summer breeze rippling through the curtains (the ones that miraculously survived the dress incident of a few weeks ago), and though the sounds of her guests in fellowship around her and the gentle sounds of the string quartet in the corner command most of her auditory attention, the boisterous male laughter she’s grown all-too-familiar with rings clear and true above the rest.

Of course her children are with Jake.

(She wonders if the day she trusts her nanny to properly watch her children will ever come.)

AO3

you clicked your heels and wished for me

She’s not sure if it’s instinct or her skills as an amazing detective-slash-genius, but Amy knows from the moment she steps into their apartment that something is off.

AO3

untitled one-shot #7

She’s got that look on her face again - the one that makes his heart feel like it’s fluttering in his chest - and when she reaches across the center console to touch his forearm, her hand is warm from the coffee. “Jake,” she murmurs, and his face is burning. “You’re -” she stops and shakes her head, and then starts again. “You are literally the sweetest, most kind and thoughtful and attentive person I’ve ever met.”

He covers her hand with his own and tilts his head to the side, until it’s leaning against the headrest.

AO3

untitled prompt #24

you ever think about what would have happened if it was amy and rosa who worked with hawkins, rather than rosa and jake?

AO3

untitled one-shot #6

The morning of June 15th begins suddenly with a low voice in her ear.

“Amelia Maria Santiago-Peralta,” the voice is quiet, but it rumbles with delight. And even though she groans instinctively at her abrupt return to consciousness, she can’t help but to smile when his lips brush against her ear. “Do you know what today is?”

“Mmm,” she turns her head to bury her face in her pillow for one more moment, before rolling over to her back. When her eyes flutter open she finds him leaning over her, propped up on his elbow, grinning far too brightly for six o’clock in the morning. “It’s Friday,” she mumbles, “and my middle name’s not Maria.”

AO3

let ‘em wonder how we got this far

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much.

AO3

i’ll always do my best to make you see

The merry misadventures of Morrissey and Schmidt

one | two | three | four | five | six

they say that dreaming is free, but i wouldn’t care what it cost me

This is not a dream. It may look like one, what with all the fairy lights and the flashing red-and-blue strobe lights and that inexplicable feeling of weightlessness originating from somewhere down in his bones, but it’s real. It’s really happening. Amy Santiago is walking down the aisle, in a white dress, with flowers in her hands and a smile on her face and enough love to eradicate the concept of hate in her eyes, and it’s real. She’s walking down the aisle, toward the podium, where she’s going to get married. To him, Jake Peralta. This is not a dream.

AO3

you’ll always be the only one

"since im such an evil person, i just imagined... what would’ve happened if they didnt find out about the bomb...?"

AO3

you held your course to some distant war in the corners of your mind

The vast majority of his view through the rear view mirror is blocked by Amy’s head, raised a bit higher than usual thanks in large part to the hump that makes up the middle seat. He’s certain that’s going to present a problem once they’re on the road and moving, but he’s rather grateful for her presence in his line of vision at the moment. She’s not looking at him, but rather, at the tiny human bundled up like a baby burrito in the car seat to her left. She’s got a big goofy grin on her face and her brows keep rising and falling with each changing expression. A smile - probably the billionth in the last two days - blossoms across his face as he watches her make silly faces at their literally-hours-old daughter.

Brand new car, brander newer daughter.

AO3

build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung

In truth, when Jake made the decision to answer Charles’ incoming phone call an hour earlier, he hand’t really expected much. Maybe a live update of something cute Nikolaj was doing, maybe commentary on whatever inedible animal part he was forcing himself to eat at the time, maybe another Cats-related pun. He expected something ordinary.

au where jake and amy find out they're expecting the same way cece and schmidt do on new girl

AO3

kiss prompt #15

First kisses: Hesitant and nervous. Lips hover inches from each other for a few seconds before they just barely brush. It’s just a soft press, but it ignites their entire bodies. Pinkies link afterwards, still wanting to be close, and each looks down, smiling softly.

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kiss prompt #14

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

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kiss prompt #13

Heated kisses: Breath huffing into mouths, angrily or passionately. Hands grabbing at clothing and pulling each other closer.

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kiss prompt #12

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

[VERSON 2]

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kiss prompt #11

After sex kisses: Lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving. Soft murmurs about what to do for dinner later, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns. B rolling onto their back and A trailing their lips down their neck, kissing their shoulder, their chest, anywhere they can think of, memorizing B.

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kiss prompt #10

“We can’t do this” kisses: Fists clenched, hands shoved into pockets. Brows low or brought together, jaws clenched. A feeling like a magnetic pull between them. Their foreheads press together, their lips brush, just barely, until B pulls away with a shaking exhale, forehead dropping into A’s neck.

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kiss prompt #9

“You look beautiful” kisses: Just a soft press of lips to the temple, resting them there for a moment, then smiling down and telling them as much.

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kiss prompt #8

Breathless kisses: A series of short pecks because they need the closeness but they also need air, so. Sometimes smiles come in between, or sometimes its just breath, gasping for the sole purpose of being able to kiss again.

[tw: description of near-drowning and mentions of stomach pumping (y’know standard breathless kiss prompt stuff)]

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kiss prompt #7

In the dark kisses: The movie plays in the background, but A and B are hardly paying attention from the back row. They kiss soundlessly, long and soft, fingers locked. A’s arm is thrown behind B’s seat, wrist bent to curl their fingers into B’s hair.

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kiss prompt #6

Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

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kiss prompt #5

“I thought I lost you” kisses: The breath is knocked out of both of them with the force that they collide with. Hands grip the back of t-shirts and palms are pressed up and under shirts, holding them close, feeling the warmth of their skin. Palms are pressed to cheeks, thumbs swiping away tears until their mouths collide messily, the world seeming to disappear around them.

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kiss prompt #4

Comforting kisses: B walks into find A sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, cheeks wet. A looks up, face looking stricken for a moment. B is shocked, and quietly says A’s name. At this, A breaks, face crumpling, and only barely has time to reach both hands out for B before B is there, kneeling at A’s feet. B takes A’s hands first, kissing their knuckles and palms. Then B reaches up to hold A’s face, pressing soft kisses around their cheeks, their lips, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re alright” and “I’m here” in between.

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kiss prompt #3

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

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kiss prompt #2

“I missed you” kisses: Long and relentless, holding their body close, arms wrapped completely around their waist. A burying their head in B’s neck and pressing kisses there too.

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kiss prompt #1

“I’ll be right back” kisses: A puts their hands on B’s shoulders from behind them, where they are sat on the couch. A leans down and around, while B turns their head a little, accepting the quick peck.

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on my heart like a tattoo

Amy’s a month old, too young to remember anything, and he shows up on her skin for the very first time in the form of an explosion of color.

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don’t read the last page

There’s dry candle wax on the floor by the window and glitter stuck to the soles of her feet; somewhere down in the lobby their friend is carrying her shoes out into a blizzard, the fruits of her expensive Polaroid camera lying forgotten on the rug. Outside the world is muted and painted white with snow, the pain and misery and heartache of the year behind them left at the 11:59 threshold the night before. They faded to nothing at the stroke of midnight, at the heart-stopping meld of their lips, at his hooded smile to the sounds of their friends celebrating all around them, at the way his whispered we’re getting married this yearwas nearly lost in the commotion. Not quite the blank slate of it’s predecessors - but so much better.

The music ends and they keep swaying, clinging, too stubborn to let go. Their apartment is a wreck of discarded Solo cups and empty bottles and dirty dishes but he is warm and soft and he smells so good; eyes squeezed shut, fingers tangled in his shirt, to the beat of her heart her mind chants forever.

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untitled one-shot #5

Amy’s back is toward him but he can see her arm moving in a slow rhythm - probably drawing patterns in the small shag rug at the foot of their bed - and aside from the slight turn of her head, she doesn’t acknowledge his arrival. The apartment is warm, a welcome reprieve to the bitter cold bartering for entrance at their windows, and even though he can see the snow falling thick and swirling in the space between their curtains he can feel the warmth trickling down his fingers and toes.

“Hey,” he says, voice almost boisterous in the comfortable silence swaddling them both. She turns toward him a little more, peering at him through her lashes - and now he can see the pinkness around her nose has spread over her cheeks and darkened to an angrier color, the used, crumpled tissues like confetti on the floor over the top of her head. “Why’re you on the floor?”

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come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you

The worn soles of her Ugg boots scuff along the dingy carpet beneath their feet, and her scarf - now draped over one shoulder - drags along the ground behind her. Her mittens, over-stuffed puffy coat, matching ski pants, and thick wool beanie complete the look; he’s honestly never seen her look more Randy from A Christmas Story than she does in this moment.

It is without question the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

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if you want me to stay, i will stay by your side

For someone whose job requires an unusually large amount of personal risk on a near daily basis, Amy Santiago has not dedicated much time considering how she might one day die. The vague assumption that it will probably happen on the job - via stray bullets or careening cars or massive explosions - has been enough to satisfy any musing.

She never imagined doctor's visits or specialist consultations or diagnoses. She never imagined hospital gowns and thinning hair and chemotherapy.

And she never, ever imagined cancer.

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in these dark ad quiet hours

There are unanswered texts on both of their phones, lunch invitations waiting to be received, inquiries about dinner plans or post-work drinks demanding responses; there are fresh boxes of his favorite cereal and his preferred brand of hot chocolate in the kitchen cabinets waiting to be poured. Life, their life, ebbs and flows along the perimeter of their mattress. But they ignore it for now, for just a few more minutes of this. For just a few more minutes of them.

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untitled prompt #23

SO..UH...IS IT TIME FOR YOU TO BLESS US WITH ANOTHER DOMESTIC PERALTIAGO FIC???? (pleaseeeeeeeee)

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survival will not be the hardest part

Of course, it’s not a normal Wednesday. Because on this particular Wednesday, Amy’s functioning on two hours of sleep and approximately five and a half cups of coffee. On this particular Wednesday, she’s simultaneously starving and nauseous, having gotten so caught up in this murder case she’s been working with Rosa that she simply hasn’t had the time to eat. She’s exhausted and clammy and probably just about on the verge of succumbing to the flu she knows has been going around the beat cops downstairs.

She’s also exactly one month out from her wedding day.

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even if the skies get rough

It’s sixty-five degrees in the waiting room of Jericho Supermax Prison and Jake Peralta is absolutely disintegrating in her arms.

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the stakes are high, the water’s rough, but this love is ours

This has her eyes splitting open and her brow furrowing at once. Jake may have only been acquitted and released from prison three days ago but already she’s readjusted to sharing the bed again; to find it empty is to choke down a small, skittish wave of panic. The mattress is still warm, after all - he was in bed recently. And now that her senses are starting to fire on all cylinders, she’s absorbing the heavy scent of coffee and bacon in the air and the sounds of Taylor Swift playing quietly nearby.

And then she hears his voice - quiet, but still cracking as he tries to sing along with a high note.

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untitled prompt #22

What if like in the fanfics, amy actually did get engaged to teddy during jake's undercover op?? and the boy comes back actually finding amy's Wedding binder on her desk and jake's like What The Fuck! !!!??!? and emo while simultaneously trying to be supportive bc this is an exciting thing for amy nd he doesnt want to be the one to ruin it. Imagine jake not showing up at the wedding bc he rlly wouldnt be able to take it only to find amy clad in her wedding dress in his doorstep a few hours later

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untitled prompt #21

Do you think amy dies a little inside everytime she catches jake looking at her with the Soft look? like she's definitely seen it and she's probably teased him about it at some point but home girl probably loves it so! much! and she loves him so much and HE loves her so much too! she knows that with her whole being but it catches her offguard sometimes bc this sunshine boy really loves her to bits and he's so good to her and he makes her so so so happy and amy needs to lie down

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untitled one-shot #4

It’s the solid landing of a tiny hand against his cheek, quickly followed by a quiet gasp and a muffled giggle, that rouses Jake from sleep.

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untitled prompt #20

it's canon that jake makes mixtapes so what if he has a box of them labeled with the day they were made and what if amy finds that stash while jake is absent for some reason (based on ur need for Angst™, this reason is up for interpretation) and spends a day going through them, laughing at her nerd bf & his mixtapes ranging from tswift to conner4real to toni braxton until she finds one labeled with the date that he went undercover. again, based on the angst need, this can go so many ways

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untitled prompt #19

How cute would Amy's first Mother's Day be...

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untitled prompt #18

Imagine Jake taking Amy to dinner after her exam to celebrate, and at the restaurant he keeps telling people at nearby tables that his girlfriend just became a sergeant, because he's just so proud and wants to brag about her. And Amy pretends to be exasperated but she can't hold back a smile

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untitled prompt #17

This is the first time in three weeks she’s allowed herself to exist within the walls once stretched to capacity with love, with laughter, with the occasional healthy bouts of exasperation. And really, honestly, she hadn’t intended to snoop. She was just searching for a certain hoodie - one she lived in for months at a time a year ago when this Jake-shaped hole was first blown through her chest - and in the process of looking through old boxes stacked at the back of the hall closet that never really got around to being unpacked, she’d found a binder.

A binder with her father’s name in Garamond typeface emblazoned across the front cover.

(She can’t help but instinctively wrinkle her nose - she would have chosen Tahoma.)

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untitled prompt #16

Hey there! I got an idea for Peraltiago (bc i am trash) One of them gets EXTREMELY wasted and forgets that they're actually dating the other so they start shamelessly flirting with them. The other just plays along. I feel like this would fit Amy cause of "The Santiago Drunkenness Scale" but I'd love to see (in this case, read) a drunk and goofy Jake fall in love all over again. But you decide which is best! P.S I really love your work! ^_^

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untitled prompt #15

Amy has to go in for some kind of procedure, very low key, everything's kosher. However, since she's gonna be out of it for a few hours, Jake has to take care of her.

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untitled prompt #14

Plz write a fluffy fic about when Amy and the ladies + Charles get hammered for rosas bachelorette party Amy either talks to them about Jake or comes home to Jake and is adorable and lovey

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untitled one-shot #3

The first thing Jake does after the bailiff announces the not-guilty verdict is high-five his lawyer. The second thing he does is high-five Rosa.

The third, and perhaps most dramatic thing he does, is turn around, vault the low wall separating the audience from the rest of the courtroom, and kiss Amy.

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untitled prompt #13

Can you write something where jake and Amy go to hook up in the evidence locker or closet or something and end up getting stuck and Amy is like !!!well shit!!! Cause she's claustrophobic

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you did this to him

"So Jake's doing the right thing instead of the selfish thing?"

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untitled prompt #12

could you please write what was going through jake's and amy's minds when figgus had jake at gun point??

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untitled one-shot #2

“Jake,” Amy’s voice is low and soothing as she pulls the car smoothly to the side of the road. Jake grunts, too busy flipping through his notecards to verbalize a response. “Jake, babe, please relax. It’s okay. There are seven of them. I can’t even remember all of their names.”

“That is the biggest lie you’ve ever told me in your entire life, and that includes the time you tried to tell me McGinley asked you to clean out the fridge in the breakroom.”

“Oh my God, it’s been seven years, are you ever gonna let that go?”

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untitled prompt #11

Amy and jake laughing and/or discussing teddy proposing to her

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untitled prompt #10

I can't stop wondering about the scar on Jake's back that he got by banging into Amy's kitchen cabinet. How did it happen? Were they making out? Was he cooking and something fell to the ground? What did Jakey do this time? ... Think of this as a prompt if you need/want one.

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untitled prompt #9

If you're not too busy with prompts, Jake x Amy and the phrase "you fight like a married couple". Thank you :)

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untitled prompt #8

can you write an angsty fic about jake reacting to an old friend dying and amy trying to comfort him??

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when you press me to your heart, i’m in a world apart

“Do you ever think about all the time we lost?”

Jake asks the question quietly, half-mumbled against her neck. The tone of his voice is the same as it has been for the last hour they’ve spent laying in her bed - light, carefree, relaxed. His fingers trace lightly over her side, having edged beneath the hem of her t-shirt twenty minutes ago to trace circles and hearts and swirls over her ribs; all-in-all, far away enough that he probably doesn’t notice the fact that her heart has just skipped a beat.

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watching through my fingers

Eyes closed, one swollen, a violet bruise that gives way in places to greener colors marking the shape of the fist that put it there, slanted down from just above her brow to her cheekbone. Beautiful and painful, like a sunset that rips his heart out of his body. Her eyelids are delicate and thin, so so breakable, hiding those warm brown eyes from smiling up at him and assuring him that everything is okay. It’s all okay. She’s okay.

He is not okay.

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don’t be fools, thinking this is the last you’ll find

Jake gets nervous for the second time on their first official date when they make it back to Amy’s apartment. More specifically, when they’re standing just outside of the entrance to her apartment. When her hair, so light and wavy and tantalizing, is moving just slightly in the late-night breeze and her eyes are bright from both the alcohol and the laughter that filled the long stretch of time after that alcohol; his whole entire chest is suddenly seized with nerves. He hasn’t been this close to her since the copy room at work earlier, just one hour after their evidence lock-up kiss. He swallows thickly and her eyes flick down at the movement.

His dart down to her lips. He’s just a beat too late coming back up to her eyes.

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untitled prompt #7

I need a scene where Jake is sad so to cheer him up Amy gives him a picture of her and Charles from when they wore the same outfit while Jake was undercover

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untitled prompt #6

I really need to dump 'Jake gets framed for murder/some other crime and has to spend some time in prison, while the team fights to clear his name and get him out' on someone, Peraltiago of course, and may be Doug Judy is looking after Jake in prison. ??? IDK

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untitled prompt #5

Do you think you could write a fic where jake and Amy get into a big fight and go back to their own places but they're both super sad about it and make it up to each other in the morning?

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romeo, save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel

B99 Au idea where Amy never worked in the 9-9 and instead has been groomed by Madeline Wuntch her entire professional career as her protégé, leading to a Romeo-and-Julietesque romance and rivalry between Ray Holt’s own protégé, causing them to have to hide their relationship once they have their asses in gear - Tumblr user stardustsantiago

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and the bells are ringing out

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.

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we watched the sun set over the castle on the hill

It’s not constant, but it’s enough - it strikes a chord deep within her, reverberating back through the years and vibrating in her very bones, each instance blazing in her memory like a makeshift patchwork quilt spanning back over a decade to that first lonely stakeout in their prologue.

A series of snapshots of Jake Peralta's pursuit of happiness.

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you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain

Once upon a time, there was a knight in shining pantsuit armor who rescued a fair prince from an evil hawk's detention center...

Or, Amy has never been one to lie down at the face of injustice; this is especially true when the one facing injustice happens to be the love of her life.

Post s4 finale fic, in 4 movements.

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should i suffocate or let go

Amy's not sure, really, when her life became so tragic.

She’s not a tragic person. She’s never known sorrow in an intimate way, never really felt her bones turn cold with it. Organization keeps the demons at bay; she knows this as surely as she knows her own name.

Enter: Jake Peralta.

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all my seconds, minutes, lifetimes for you and only you

“You had me worried for a minute, there,” he tells her quietly while she lavishes attention on the faded freckles along his shoulders.

(It’s code: you could have just talked to me.)

She pauses, long eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones, before tilting her head back up to peer at him. “I knew you’d find me eventually,” she says off-handedly. “I just - I freaked myself out.”

(It’s also code: you and I both know I would only have freaked out more.)

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hold on to hope if you’ve got it

He wonders, distantly, what the soul mate science says about situations like this. He wonders as the cool backside of Amy’s hand presses against his forehead; he wonders as he loses touch completely with reality, as his mind comes unhinged and tears spewing down his face spread at an alarming rate across the mattress beneath his violently tilted head.

Who's he supposed to turn to when she can’t be there for him?

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i think i’m tired of getting over it

She’s not sure about the how or the when or the why, but on one warm afternoon in May, Gina is faced with the realization that one Rosa Diaz has become an undeniable cornerstone in her life. Gina almost hates herself for allowing this to happen, for allowing this one person to become so intimately entangled in the life she’s built for herself that the moment that person disappears from it, everything comes crashing down again. Her eyes are open and she can still see colors and feel textures and the world is still real and spinning, except her mind has dropped off back into that void and there is nothing there to pull her out, there is no one, nothing, gone gone gone -

“Gina?” Gina blinks, and Amy Santiago’s face comes fading into view.

[a s4 finale prediction]

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just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

He’s been walking a fine line recently. She’s been out of the hospital for less than a week, and while she’s been incredibly diligent about following all of the instructions the doctor gave her about medicine and physical therapy, she’s been all but belligerent about the bed rest side of things. It’s hard to tell her no, and not just because one pleading look would be enough to convince Jake to commit arson for her; Amy Santiago can be quite intimidating when she wants to be.

(Part of him wonders just how much that terrifying look hardened while she was undercover. Part of him never ever wants to know.)

[set in the sleepwalking universe]

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the well-worn pages of my favorite book

"How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!"

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untitled prompt #4

omg idk if this has been done yet, but imagine an au with jake and amy where amy is an artist and jake is a photographer or something and they're each others muses like o m g

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untitled prompt #3

um hi love your writing BUCKETS - prompt for after tonight's ep, jake goes home and accidentally lets it slip that he wants to have kids at some point (a la mentioning he kissed holt - totally unintentional, slips out by mentioning charles in convo with amy, potentially??)

AND

Prompt! The night of Captain Latvia, Jake talks to Amy about his thoughts on what Boyle said about Jake never becoming a dad.

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untitled prompt #2

Prompt idea: get this... jake amy in highschool .. prom is coming up.. amy cant go something comes up.. jake is super excited but .. instead stays with amy at her house playing board games in pjs

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untitled prompt #1

do you have any headcanons for jake and amy on valentine's day? an idea of mine is that they're both working late and so they can't go out for dinner or anything and thus jake feels bad and buys amy all the tacky valentine's gifts he can find within a mile radius of the precinct

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untitled one-shot #1

Amy can tell something’s off the moment she steps off the elevator.

To the naked eye, everything about the bullpen appears to be perfectly normal. There are three perps sitting in holding, and Charles is bickering with Scully over the coffee pot in the break room. Gina’s engrossed in whatever is illuminating her face on her computer screen, Rosa’s scribbling something in the margin of what appears to be official paperwork, and Holt’s office door is closed. She can see Terry’s back through the open blinds - the two appear to be deep in conversation.

The only one missing is Jake - which is why she’s immediately suspicious.

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baby, you were my picket fence

Amy snatches it and takes a long pull, screwing her eyes shut against the bitter taste, but even as she coughs and splutters as she lowers the bottle again Rosa finds that she just can’t make fun of her. “Good? Or do I need to order another bottle?”

“Another,” says Amy, and then, “he’s gone.”

Rosa stiffens, gaze lifting to scan over the crowd around them. “Who?” She asks quietly when she can’t spot the threat.

“Jake.”

She deflates. “Yeah, he left, like, three hours ago -”

“Not three hours ago, ten minutes ago. And he - he stopped me in the parking lot, as I was on my way out.” She swallows again, thickly this time, and Rosa clenches her jaw. “He confessed - he told me that he likes me.”

For a split-second, Rosa has to fight the craziest urge to laugh. It’s all so juvenile - a boy confessed he liked her and she’s immediately distraught, how utterly cliche - before the implications of it all belatedly hit her. “Oh.”

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this girl right here’s gonna rule the world

Could you write something where Rosa encourages Gina to think about becoming a cop/something post coral palms pt3??? Xoxoxo - ANONYMOUS

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don’t let our hearts freeze

I see a lot of Jake helping Amy with panick attacks but not much of the opposite and you write intimate moments between them so well, so would you write the first time Jake feels safe enough with Amy to call her when he gets a panick attack (establish relationship) ? - FUCKINGDAMNITDEAN

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just say you won’t let go

Hey there, I love your writing, so if you're ever up to, could you write Rosa and Charles watching the surveillance tapes from the evidence lock up in episode 03x01? I just think it would be so funny to actually see (in this case read) Charles watching Jake and Amy killing a guy with their kiss, and Rosa telling him to chill (while secretly smiling to herself). - ANONYMOUS

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my life before was tragic

Prompt! After Jake and Amy start dating, Jake finds the ring from The Bet in Amy's desk and asks her why she went back to get it. - ANONYMOUS

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stuck in second gear

HAS ANYONE WRITTEN A JAKE AND AMY PROPOSAL THAT HAPPENS JUST LIKE MONICA AND CHANDLER’S PROPOSAL - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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the roads ahead are paved with good intentions

i just remembered this and i think it’s really interesting that amy told teddy both times jake told her he liked her, before and after he went undercover - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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heaven and earth have finally aligned

ANONYMOUS: so do you have any headcanons regarding the Jake and Amy stills from the wedding? (I.e. write a short fic based on the pictures of them)  

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i’ll be there for you

Hey, do you know an episode of friends where Monica and Chandler are secretly dating and he accidentally kisses her in front of Phoebe and Rachel? Can you write that Peraltiago-stylez? Please please pleeeaase?

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i'm still waiting patiently

i am ONLY asking bc i'm a self destructive mess rn but if ur in an angst writing mood could u write something where like jake has to cheat on amy while he's in florida???? idk????? i love angst

[PLEASE NOTE: i didn't write this exact prompt]

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something like that

i don't know if you're taking prompts but could you do Jake and Amy's first kiss like Nick and Jess. AUish. Idk. THANK YOU FOR EXISTING

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when i’m wiser and i’m older

Jake has six months worth of missed cuddling with one Amy Santiago, and he does not intend to waste any time in catching up - pain killers and airplanes be damned.

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just like a movie, just like a song

Amy Santiago does not break rules.

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where the numb meets the lonely

Anonymous said: Okay so I was just thinking about the fact that Jake and Amy's one-year anniversary probably occurred while Jake has been in Florida- do you think Jake had like a fake anniversary celebration with Amy's selfie? Also thinking about Jake and Amy not getting to be together for their anniversary makes me sad.

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and as our eyes start to close

He’s gone thirty-some-odd years without mourning his lack of a broad English vernacular, but that all changes the first time he sets foot into his new apartment after living in Florida for six months.

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you're not alone, 'cause you're here with me

Pertaigo oneshot where Amy has a really really bad panic attack? It can be at the prescient can be there to - ANONYMOUS

Can you please write Amy having a sever anxiety attack? - ANONYMOUS

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and you’re the sky

JAKE AND AMY MEET THE EXACT SAME WAY JANE AND MICHAEL DO AU (an unassuming beat cop shows up to her epic twenty first birthday door and gets mistaken for a stripper) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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how can i be an optimist about this?

ok for a jake/amy prompt how about their first fight as a married couple? can be as simple or as angsty as you please! - ANONYMOUS

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i promise that you'll never be lonely

Hi this is the same anon with the moving in together prompt so i have two and I'm not sure if these are more one-shotty or if you've done these before but 1)jake and/or amy's inner thoughts during johnny and dora 2) amy calling her mom to tell her about jake and her answering all of those *annoying* mom questions also are you on ff. net and or ao3? sorry you've probably posted about it before but I just started following so i don't know - ANONYMOUS

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and i see colors in a different way

as payback for the dress she wore and having to dance with scully in the bet amy plans a bad date to take jake on even though she doesnt expect to use it and later (while dating jake?) finds her notes while going through and cleaning out some old binders/notebooks - ANONYMOUS

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why don't you sit right down and stay awhile?

Prompt! Jake finds out Amy has never seen diehard and takes her to see it immediately - TARDIISBLUE

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to make up for the times i've been cheated on

u heathen okAY OKAY imma be Terrible and say Jake gets shot protecting Captain Holt and Amy and Rosa react ;;;;)))))))))))))) - PHIL-THE-STONE

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got that good song in my feet

prompt! six drink amy around jake in established relationship (i.e she's no longer lonely,, she's more clingy and emotional?? idk) :))) - FOURDRINKAMY

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i'd pay to see you smile

I've seen AU oneshots where Amy arrests civilian!Jake, but what about one where he arrests her--maybe a bit of a Doug Judy S2 ep type situation where she's flirting with him and he's into it but then catches himself? - GRYFFINDORSWEATER

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six days

Watching the speech scene in The Funeral where Jake is so adamantly willing to get demoted and Ames is trying to convince him that it’s his dream job and he shouldn’t let it go that easily and then he tells her ‘Amy…this good’

Like. I know they were both already way too deep once they started it, but?? I really?? Need someone to write a fic centering around Jake’s PoV during those six days? What was he thinking while he and Amy did Normal Couple Things? Did he constantly get streams of thoughts that revolved around how this is a reality that he’s alive and he’s not dreaming and how amazing this whole thing is that he can openly give her the Looks and hold her hand and snuggle with her and he can openly show her affection because they’re dating now?? I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC PLS

- Tumblr user tall-butt

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i’ve been sleepwalking too close to the fire

Amy goes undercover immediately following the events of Johnny and Dora. Jake and the others try to deal.

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the only proof that i need is you

"in which Amy makes a habit of ranting to the bartender (about her terrible day, her last awful date, the patriarchy), and Jake takes it upon himself to try to make her smile."

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and let your colors bleed and blend with mine

"in which Jake and Amy are New York’s Most Wanted… or so he thinks. Amy’s actually an undercover cop meant to take him down – except it’s a year into the assignment, her fake feelings for him are a bit too real, and she just can’t imagine turning over this big misunderstood softy to the feds."

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and ignore those big warning signs

“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Please, Charles, I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, just - just go!”

The last words Amy Santiago speaks before waking up alone in a hospital room, handcuffed to her bed.

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i never knew daylight could be so violent

Charles likes to think of himself as the world's first post-apocalyptic gourmet chef.

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and we will put the lonesome on the shelf

They get married on a Saturday evening, and that morning, it rains.

Amy wakes to the gentle tap of steady rainfall knocking gently on the window just three inches back from the very top of her head. For a moment, she lays very still - her sleep-dried eyes blink lazily up at the all-too-familiar ceiling above her head, watching blankly as a dull muted light casts soft shadows that stretch from the window all the way to the ceiling fan in the center of the room. She inhales deeply, so deeply that she feels a faint pop between her shoulder blades, and her eyes flutter shut again.

Seconds later, the stillness of the morning is pierced by an all-too-familiar alarm, and when her eyes fly open, they fly open on the wings of a powerful surge of excitement and adrenaline.

She’s getting married today.

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and i’ll tell you all about it when i see you again

It's snowing by the time they make it home from Brooklyn Methodist Hospital.

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love you inside out

Amy cries the night Jake comes home from Florida.

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most nights, i don’t know anymore

A response to the following prompt:

It isn’t a fanfic unless Main Character has to tear their gaze away from the strip of skin revealed above Love Interest’s waistband when they casually stretch their arms above their head.

----

“It’s the way he looks when he talks about her. There’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain it. There’s something in his eyes when he talks about her, or when he looks at a photo of her. He would never hurt her. It’s written all over his face.”

“Are you quoting two-thousand-nine Beyonce at me?”

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your arms wrapped around me and this moment

"How did you know they were the one?"

"I just...knew."

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you know that i am home

It’s the sum total of many moving parts that ends up landing him in such a position at such a late hour; the coalescing of several Unfortunate Incidences, of which he had little to no control over, that thrusts him into such a predicament. A series of bad omens, as Gina would later tell him with a knowing smile, that he just couldn’t avoid, because he’s a freight train careening out of control and this is the end of the tracks.

Or something - something like that. It’s hard to think straight at 3 o’clock in the morning.

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my head is an animal

Anonymous: But: Jake is a sleep cuddler. Amy found this out before they were dating. They were on a long stakeout together and it was her shift. Jake fell asleep next to her clung onto her like his life depended on it. She didnt have the heart to wake him. Also: Gina found it out at a sleepover when they were kids. She woke up to Jake almost squeezing her to death. She screamed and threw a pillow at his head. Jake was not amused. Gina never slept beside Jake again.

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i’m with your ghost again

"wait what if there’s a flashback during s4 of Jake and Holt leaving for Florida and it shows them saying goodbye to Amy and Kevin like I am not ready for that but it’s all I want" - Tumblr user youngsamberg

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i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine

It all ends the same way it starts: with a phone call.

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i’m gonna make this place your home

It's 3 AM and Jake is trying to comfort his newborn daughter without waking his wife. Delirious rambling ensues.

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wake me up when it’s all over

A stolen moment between Jake and Amy in the days after he returns from Florida.

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i know places

Missing moment alluded to in the s3 finale:

"No one knows where I live." "I thought you had Amy over there once?" "Yeah, it was fun. I moved the next day."

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riptide

Request: Could you do a fanfiction where an old ex flirts with amy and makes her laugh and jake realises he’s wants to be the only one to make her laugh? JEALOUS JAKE IS THE BEST JAKE

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new york city, please go easy on me tonight

"There isn't a single person in the world I'd rather have on this case than you."

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rivers and roads

"Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers 'til I reach you."

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thunder

Jake is thirty-five years old when he discovers a new breed of thunder.

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until the sweetest words remain

In her four-year stint as an art major, Amy learned a lot of different words to describe beauty. She studied brushstrokes that communicated immeasurable pain and triumph and hope and fear. She learned how one piece of art could capture a moment so intense she felt like she could feel the artist’s breath on her neck. She felt positive that she’d never meet anyone who could make her feel as much as Michelangelo could with just one facial expression.

Until she met Jake.

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of all the things my eyes have seen

Sometimes healing only comes one piece at a time. Sometimes it's so slow, it's painful. And sometimes it only happens when the people we love push us toward it. A stand-alone one shot that spins off from the events of Heliocentrism.

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heliocentrism

Prompt: Amy goes undercover for some time (months maybe??). Jake goes crazy because he misses her like hell and is worried about her. He is very sad. Then she comes back and they are very cute (lots of fluff please!!)

You only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it starts to snow, only know you love her when you let her go.

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THE GOOD PLACE

the song in my head was all that i had

He's Chidi Anagonye, and everything is fine.

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GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY

were we the belly of the beast or the sword that fell

The expanse of inky blackness sprawled out before her seems peaceful in spite of Drax’s mind-numbing laughter booming through the Benatar, and though the sound of it grates against her ears even after all the time she’s spent in close quarters with him, she feels her lips twitching, fighting against a smile. He’s off somewhere in the bowels of the ship with Mantis, probably exploring whatever areas they’ve not yet discovered. And she knows Rocket’s busy arguing with Groot near the storage area - apparently explosives don’t mix well with whatever kindling Groot has started to shed. And Peter -

He’d shuffled off to the captain’s quarters with the earpieces of his Zune tucked securely in his ears some time ago.

It seems that all is right in the galaxy.

For now.

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STRANGER THINGS

the wind is low, the birds will sing that you are part of everything

ANONYMOUS ASKED: a fic prompt - Steve gets introduced to El and internally he's like 'guess ive got 5 kids now' :3

She looks very different than she did three days earlier. Gone is the slicked-back hair and heavy eye makeup, gone are the ratty jeans and ripped shirts and jackets. The girl that sits before him now doesn’t particularly look like she’s hiding superpowers. She looks like just that, a girl - radiating innocence and timidity beneath a veritable mop of lazy curls that hang down in her big wide brown eyes. Her clothes are big and baggy and definitely scream hand-me-down but he can tell by looking at her that she has no concept of why that might be a bad thing.

It’s when she slides off the bed and steps toward him - after casting an uncertain glance at Mike - that it really hits him. She reaches up to push her hair out of her eyes and he finally sees them, the depth behind those irises, the strength radiating off of her that seems to originate somewhere down in her bones. What he thought was timidity is now a carefully-restrained surge of pure power. It very nearly floors him.

“Hi,” her voice is soft and measured and her hand is steady as she reaches toward him.

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watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay

The whole house is quiet, the echoes of Billy’s barbaric screaming long-since faded away, but when Mike closes his eyes and inhales deeply enough, he could swear he still smells the faintly tangy scent of whatever that gel was in El’s hair, the one that filled his lungs when he breathed her in. He can still feel the heat of her against him, the way her heart beat so hard and wild against his chest, the way her nails dug into his shoulders through his sweater when he’d hugged her as close and as hard as he could. He can still feel her, alive and breathing, real and there, even though it’s been a couple of hours and he’s had as many brushes with death in that time. The anxiety still bristling in his stomach roars and doubles over on top of itself, threatening to buckle his knees and bring him to the floor for a moment.

It’s the memory of those headlights flaring to near blinding proportions that keeps him steady on his feet. There’s no way that was anything but Eleven.

The aftermath of the group's collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.

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[els-imagines]

Ishtar x Code: Esencia? queen x queen? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (extra fluff please)

How does one fluff? No seriously I had to ask for help from some friends in a discord server. Here you go anon, a fluff cake - Mod Sei who does no know how to write fluff.

The night air was quiet and calm, the wind brushing her hair as the nasod queen stands at the deck of the black crow. Eve’s eyes followed the moon, unblinking and holding a sense of calmness and elegance.

“Aren’t the starts bright tonight?” A voice suddenly asks and then there was the clacking of heels landing behind her. Lu smiles that unreadable smile of hers, hair slightly dancing in the breeze.

“Good evening, Queen.” Eve smiles in an almost casual fashion doing a little curtsy before straightening up.

The demon chuckles.” No need for formalities here dear, we are both queens here after all.” She says, crossing her legs and starting to levitate a bit off the ground.

Eve herself was hovering in the air and she gives her a lucrative smile.” What brings you here then, Lu?” She asks.

Lu smiles back, a genuine one before walking towards the railing.” I suppose you could say I’m trying to learn how to use my,” she gestures to the new appendages at her back.

“wings.” she makes a face, still not used to the movement on her back every time she does something that caused the wings to stir, which is generally her just moving.

Eve nods in understanding, holding her chin and examining the wings thoughtfully.”I see.” She murmurs then turned back to look at the night sky again.

Lu peers over the railing, the action making the nasod turn to her in silent confusion.She then raises her foot and planted it on the metal bars before hoisting herself up and standing so she was balanced on the railing.

“What are you doing?” Eve cocks her head, Lu looks back at her with an indifferent shrug.

“Like I said, I’m trying to learn how to use my wings.” Eve quirks a brow and walks towards her.

“And based from my observations and from your words and actions, you are planning to jump off. yes?”

The other simply nods, a small smile cresting upon her lips. Eve sighs.” Lu, I do not think it is a logical course of action to just jump off and-”

“Nonsense Eve.” Lu smirks at the nasod.” Something as flying should be simple for a queen like me!” She declares before jumping off.

No sooner after she jumped off she immediately started screeching, falling at an alarming speed towards the land far below. Oh Sult this was a bad mistake a stupid bad mistake how does she fly how does she use her wings how-

Ah, pride Eve thinks to herself before Lu suddenly and actually jumped off the deck, much to Eve’s shock and surprise.

She immediately peers over the railing and saw a figure falling down. Hearing the screech Eve wastes no moment and jumps off the railing herself, Moby and Remy following their queen.

Lu was still screeching like a banshee as she plummeted, nearing the ground with each passing second before suddenly, everything is still again and she realizes she stopped falling.

And only then did she realize someone was holding her, She looks up and her face turns an interesting shade of red when she finds a familiar face holding her bridal style.

“E-eve?!” She stammers. The nasod merely looks at her with indifferent golden orbs.

“I have told you this was an illogical plan to take.” She sighs before she slowly moves her hands so she’s holding Lu by the arms.

“Would you like me to assist you in learning how to fly?”

Lu pauses and looks at her with something akin to confusion and wonder before smiling and nodding.“ That would be greatly appreciated, Eve.”

Though the situation wasn’t exactly Eve teaching her how to fly, more like she was letting Lu learn on her own while holding her and preventing her from falling to her death.

But Lu didn’t mind it one bit, the quiet air filled with chatting about random subjects. At one point they even proposed an alliance between the nasods and demons when Lu get’s her rightful place back in the demon world.

The night passed like this until Lu finally learned how to use her wings properly and wasn’t holding on to Eve anymore.

“Hey look, I can do it now!” She says, excitement barely concealed in her voice. And it was true, her wings were now flapping behind her back, keeping her upright in air and sending gentle gusts of wind towards the nasod in front of her.

There was a soft smile cresting Eve’s lips as Lu lets go of her arms and started flying.

“I congratulate you, Lu.” She says until Lu suddenly disappears from sight.”…Lu?”

She looks around, seeing nothing but clouds and the night sky, she sends moby and remy to look for the missing demon queen.

“C’mon!” Lu’s voice suddenly rings out.” Why not play a game of hide and seek?”

Eve blinks before starting to float towards the direction of the voice with a sigh.

” Lu, playing this ‘game’ is merely a waste of time and does not help develop our skills in whatsoever.” She says, spotting the flapping of wings from behind a cloud.

With a childish pout out of her image as an elegant queen, Lu flies and stops before Eve.

“Aww, why so serious Eve?”

The nasod blinks.” I’m afraid I don’t follow, I am just explaining that this does not help our skills in anything.”

Taking Lu’s hand she starts floating up again with the help of the boosters at her.” Now come, let’s return to the airship.”

Lu allows herself to be led away, a faint hue of red dusting her pale skin when Eve held her hand, moby and remy following after them as they reached the deck of the black crow.

Eve lets go of her hand upon finding purchase on the deck again and for a moment, Lu was tempted to hold her hand again but decided against it.

“....That cloud looks like Moby.” She says instead, pointing up and to a cloud that indeed holds the shape of the drone.

Eve blinks before looking up, upon seeing it she laughs softly, the sound making something in Lu’s heart flutter.

“Well, that one resembles a phoru then.” Eve counters, pointing to a different cloud, smiling softly.

Instead of going back inside the airship, the two queens instead spent the night looking at the stars and clouds, and when Lu moves to gently clasps Eve’s hand again.

Eve doesn’t mention it, instead entwining their hands together as she goes back to observing the night sky again.

“Two queens standing at an ungodly hour, looking up at the stars and holding hands, Well isn’t that just cute, are you sure you don’t like her?”, Ciel’s teasing tone says through the contract. 

A blush flares up to Lu’s pale face.” Shut up Ciel!” She yells in her mind, but Ciel could feel the embarrassment from his master through the contract and only chuckled to himself.

“And yet you don’t want to let go of her hand.”

Lu has no rebuke for that, falling silent before shutting off her side of the contract to get a sense of privacy.

Ciel blinks from inside his room before chuckling again. Well, at least it looks like Lu finally acknowledged her feelings for the queen of nasods.

Shaking his head fondly he lies down to bed, with the intention to tease her tomorrow.

[s-hitforbrainz-blog]

air conditioning invented

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