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foolgobi65 · 6 years

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we can be heroes if we just close our eyes (head first, can’t lose)

k so this is chapter one of an unfinished fic i started writing 2 summers ago i’ve got like ... maybe 5/12 chapters written? its been hanging out on my shitty drive for too long so i figured id find out what you guys think!! its .... a ...... b99/avengers/megamind/amnesia fic. i know it makes no sense but it has a plot i promise.

plEASE reblog im desperate for attention and validation and i have no shame whatsoever thanks love u all <3 <3

“Jake’s gone and robbed another bank,” Black Widow says, filing her nails. She tosses a glance at Amy, filing away the last of her paperwork and pauses. “.....you could go stop that, if you’re in the mood, Cap.”

Captain America rolls her eyes and signs the last form. “Make sure that Holt gets this, alright?” Amy wonders whether she should put on her uniform, before deciding to just grab her shield. It’s not as if Peralta’s expecting anyone else.

“Excuse you, but I am a highly ranked Agent of this fine, international organization,” Gina says, “I’m like, second in command of all this shit. Go find a real secretary to do your dirty work.”

“You’re playing Kwazy Kupcakes,” Amy observes. Gina raises an eyebrow without looking away from her phone.

“And I snapped three necks between my thighs before 9 a.m,” Gina drawls. “I’m magical, bitch. Get on my level.”

Amy sighs, rolling her shoulders a little. “Just...make sure Holt sees the report, okay?”

“Jake’s probably robbed two banks in the time it took for us to have this little chat, but whatever.” Gina waves the fingers of her free hand vaguely in Amy’s direction. “We’re having a bit of a morale issue so don’t do any property damage, use two types of birth control, you know the drill.”

Amy does, in fact, know the drill. She strides into the elevator and checks the instructions that Gina’s managed to send her on the way down. It’s a screenshot of a series of text messages Peralta sent Gina about ten minutes ago, if the timestamp is correct. She reaches the ground floor, nods at a passing Agent and heads out to the parking lot still scrolling through the images.

stealin sme shit from the bank on prk ave

tell america 2 wear her civvies

her leather jacket is A+

she shud wer more leather less pantsuits

k the alarms r off c ya l8r sk8r

Amy looks down at her gabardine pantsuit and realizes two things simultaneously. 1) She needs to change out of her chunky heels, and 2) She’s going to have to wear her leather jacket, and Peralta will never let it go.

One change of shoes and jacket later, she’s on the road, cruising through traffic on her motorcycle. A child notices her shield strapped to her back and yells out excitedly, a young couple whistles three times before Amy is too far out of range to hear. Grandparents walking on the sidewalk salute, and Captain America Santiago switches between waving and a gentle smile, befitting her status as national icon.

Sometimes, she kind of loves her job. And then other times, she has to go fight Iron Dude in the streets of Manhattan.

“Ayyyy America!” Peralta shouts when she arrives. He’s currently occupied with throwing handfuls of what look to be hundred dollar bills from a giant bag he’s carrying in his left hand, repulsors keeping him airborne as he makes it rain money on the good denizens of New York. “Come to collect some extra cash? They can’t be paying you very well at SHIELD.”

Amy rolls her eyes, taking her gun out of its holster and shooting at the bag. Peralta moves slightly and they both watch as the bullet misses its target by inches.

“Were you even trying?” he asks laughing. Peralta throws another handful of bills into the air. Amy shrugs, grabbing some cash off the ground. Definitely hundreds, then. She readies her gun and fires again, this time repeatedly, anticipating any way he might move and meeting him with a bullet.

One of the bullets grazes Iron Dude’s hand, another three puncture the bag in quick succession. It drops on the pavement, and Amy smiles. Peralta groans, sound only slightly incongruous when filtered through the voice modulator of the Iron Dude suit.

“You’re the worst, America. All I wanted to do was even out the distribution a little, fight the power, you know?” Amy rolls her eyes.

“Then write a letter to your Congressman, Peralta. And stop calling me that.” He comes back to Earth, and steps forward.

“Stop calling you what, America? It’s your name, isn’t it? Tell me, did your parents know they were visionaries, or did they just assume they were when they named you. I mean what a coup for the propaganda: Captain America’s legal name literally being America Santiago.”

“Like I told you the last like fifty times you’ve asked me that, no my parents are not prophets, or fortune tellers nor are they actual fortune cookies you can purchase from Panda Express for three dollars,” Amy says with only a little hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. She forces down a distressing urge to place her hands on her hips. “And only my friends can call me by my first name.”

Iron Dude gasps, placing his hands over his heart. “I thought we had something, oh Captain my Captain! Was it all.....a lie? Say it ain’t so Cap-i-tan!”

Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m surprised you’ve even read Walt Whitman.”

Peralta cocks his head. “Who? I was quoting that Robin Williams movie, you know the one with the kids who stand up on their desks?”

She blinks. “The Dead Poets Society?” Peralta nods. “Yeah, that one! My eighth grade English teacher showed it to us ‘cause she wanted to like, inspire everyone to read poetry and crap but we all kind of just spun in circles and jumped up on our desks.” He strokes the chin of his helmet. “I think she got fired after the principal caught us playing leapfrog on the tables.”

Amy thinks she can be forgiven for throwing her shield. She takes a perverse pleasure in watching the way it makes stupid Peralta stumble backwards, and the hollow sound his Iron Ass makes when it touches the ground. She catches the shield when it boomerangs back and cocks her head.

“Jake Peralta,” she begins. “You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of--”

He rises, brushing himself off. Amy debates the merits of actually engaging in a fight, looking around for a moment as she performs a cost-benefit analysis in her head. Pros: she gets to bash in his stupid looking suit. Cons: they always manage to take down a building or two, and then Amy has to clean up the rubble while the Times takes a bunch of candids for the print edition and Snapchats the rest.

Their Snapchat following has shot up through the roof, mainly because Amy reached a deal where she’d give a quick interview while she worked if the photographers made sure not to publish the dorkiest looking pictures they take of her. She knows what she looks like in battle, and the way she grits her teeth is definitely not something she wants to see on the front page of her Sunday Edition.

Amy checks to make sure Peralta doesn’t have anything but his suit on him, and throws her shield one more time. She smirks at the satisfying bang, and hope it really hurts when he starts flying again, waving as he jets over her head.

“This was fun and all,” he says, “but I’ve really got a prior engagement. Byeeeeeee”

Amy barely resists showing her middle finger, but most of her impulse control right now is coming from the small child she can see staring across the street. She notices people staring, most likely curious at why she let a criminal fly off into the sunset.

“Money’s a little tight in Albany,” she says to the crowd. “No one really wants to pay for another fallen building...and he left the money, right?”

Everyone laughs, nodding their head at her explanation. Amy starts picking up the cash on the ground, and wonders if she should have made better life choices. Ones that wouldn’t end up with her using a very expensive vibranium shield to hold hundred dollar bills she’s picking up off the road.

“Captain America! Oh my god, Mom, it's Captain America!” Amy turns to see the little girl jumping up and down across the road. “She’s the coolest, oh my god do you think she’ll sign something for me?”

Amy smiles faintly and turns to face her adoring fan, crossing the street to give her a hug and an autograph. Maybe a little clean up isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

She looks back at the road, notices the milling bank executives and groans.

Fucking Peralta.

#b99 #avengers #megamind #b99 fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #b99 au #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine fic #avengers fic #avengers au #my fic

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