DEAR READER
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Discoholic 🪩
🪼
NASA
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
Stranger Things
Three Goblin Art
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available
Claire Keane
occasionally subtle
h
Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Italy
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
@emilysbau
Kneecap
Morgan: Prentiss you good?
Prentiss: Yeah why wouldn’t I be?
Hotch: Because you’ve dislocated your knee Prentiss.
Prentiss: dislocated is a strong word, bruised would be more accurate
Hotch: Oh really? then what is your kneecap doing on the left side of your knee?
Prentiss: taking a vacation?
Can I request a fix where Jack has to do a family tree and asks Emily why he doesn’t know hotchs parents(if this makes any sense😂)
Hi anon!! I LOVE this idea
This got really fluffy.
Happy Friday!
-x-
As We Grow
Words: 2.7k
Warnings: None
Read over on Ao3, or under the cut
If there was one upside to not being able to go away on cases it was spending more time with Jack.
Emily had sprained her ankle a few prior, and whilst she was now mostly back to normal, Aaron had insisted she sat one last case out so she didn’t cause herself further injury. She’d rolled her eyes at him, but agreed, knowing it wasn’t worth the argument.
Whilst she missed him, their bed far too big and empty without him, she was enjoying one on one time with the little boy she loved more than life itself.
“Emily, I need help!”
She sighs and closes her eyes briefly.
She loved him, even though he’d often pick the exact moment she was sitting comfortably on the couch to ask for help with homework he’d previously claimed he could do alone.
“Coming honey, just one second.”
She stands, wincing slightly as her weight goes through her still tender ankle and she walks towards the dining room. She smiles at him as she walks in, and walks over to see what he is working on.
She looks at the paper on the dining room table, a brightly decorated tree that Jack had clearly created himself. A mix of colourful leaves and places to write names that had been pre-made by the teacher, each with a title of mom, dad or other relatives up to grandparents on each side. Emily suppresses a sigh and makes a mental note to talk to Jack’s teacher, again, about family projects like this. It wasn’t that she and Aaron wanted Jack to be left out, or for more work created so he had his own project to do, they simply wanted a heads-up. Time to prepare him that he’d have to think about something like this, about the mother he’d now spent time more time without than he’d ever had with her.
She smiles at Jack and pulls out the seat next to him, joining him at the dining table. He’d already filled out Haley and Aaron’s names along with his own.
“What do you need help with, sweetheart?” She asks, slinging her arm around the back of his chair to lean in closer.
“I realised I don’t know what grandpa’s name is,” he says, looking at her with his brows furrowed, a serious look on his face that was 100% Aaron, “Aunt Jessie calls him Dad and you and Daddy don’t really spend time with him.”
Emily hums in her throat, making sure she doesn’t react physically at the mention of Haley’s father. If she had her way, she’d have told him exactly what she thought of him years ago, but out of respect for Aaron, and for Jessica and Jack, she never had.
“That’s ok,” she assures him, encouraging him to pick his pen back up, “His name is Roy,” she explains, and watches as he fills in the box above Haley’s name, and she smiles to herself when he hesitates over the space for his grandmother’s name, “And your grandma’s name was Pamela.”
Jack writes it out, pausing as he spells it out in his head, “I’ve never met her.”
“You did, sweetie,” she says, kissing the side of his head, “But she passed away when you were very small.”
Jack had only been a few months old when Haley’s mom died, something that Aaron had told Emily about after they got together. How he regretted that he didn’t take more time off work back then to support his wife as she navigated losing her mother after just becoming one herself.
Jack hums in interest before looking at the other side, frowning again at the blank spaces above Aaron’s name.
“I’ve never met Dad’s parent’s either,” he comments, looking up at her, “Why? Are they dead too?”
Emily smiles sadly at him, and she moves her hand to run through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead.
“Yes, they are.”
Jack’s frown deepens as he thinks about it, his mind wondering. “Dad never talks about them.”
She takes a moment to think about her answer. Even if Aaron’s parents were alive, they would be in Jack’s life. Whilst his father had died when he was in college, Aaron hadn’t seen his mother for years before she died, making a decision for himself to take a step away from the memories of a childhood that he had deserved better from.
It wasn’t her place to explain it all, and Jack was too young to understand everything his father had gone through at his age and even younger. Whilst Jack had been through a lot at his age, he had always known love.
Something that Aaron couldn’t say he had.
“Well, sometimes remembering hard things makes people sad, doesn’t it?” She says gently, smiling encouragingly when he nods.
“Sometimes I get sad when I think about Mommy.”
“Of course you do,” Emily says, running her fingers through his hair again, “But then you remember the good times right? All the fun you had with her? And it makes you happy even though she’s not here?” Jack nods again, more enthusiastically this time, “Well…your dad doesn’t have those happy memories.”
“Oh,” Jack says, frowning as he looks back down at the tree, “Do you know their names?”
Emily can’t help but smile at the change in topic, the conversation over, for now, in a way that only a child could manage.
“Yes,” she confirms, “Your grandpa was called Charles,” she waits for him to write it out, “and your grandma was called Rose.”
Jack writes it out and sighs, “Everyone on here is dead apart from me and Daddy,” he comments, but then he frowns, cutting her off before she can offer some comfort, “There isn’t space for you! Or Aunt Jessie,” he exclaims, “Or even Grandma Liz.”
She smiles at the thought of it, of her mother’s name written on a family tree that would be hung up in Jack’s classroom, and she knows Elizabeth would get a kick out of it too, and she leans in to kiss his cheek.
“That’s ok, honey,” she says, “Our family doesn’t look like a lot of families do,” he still looks sad, and she cups his cheek, knowing she’d do anything to cheer him up, “Your dad will be home tonight, so how about we go get some chicken nuggets before he comes back and tries to make us eat all healthy?”
He smiles so widely, she thinks she somehow loves him a little bit more than she had only seconds before.
___
Aaron yawns as he walks down the stairs, stretching his arms above his head as he reaches the ground floor of the house. He’d got home late last night, and he felt like he’d barely slept. Emily had been in bed when he got home, greeting him with a kiss and a sleepy smile.
He’d missed her when he was away, and he was hopeful her ankle would heal soon so she could go back to working on cases.
He hears a noise coming from the tv in the living room, the familiar sound of morning cartoons, and he smiles before he makes his way there.
“Hey, buddy,” he says, smiling at his son as he turns to look at him.
“Dad!” Jack exclaims, throwing his arms around him as he joins him on the couch, “I missed you!”
“I missed you too,” Aaron replies, kissing his son’s temple as he pulls back, “Did you have fun with Emily?”
Jack nods enthusiastically, but something flashes across his face, and for once Aaron isn’t sure he can place it.
“We had so much fun,” Jack says, resting his head on his father’s shoulder as he returns his attention to the tv, “She let me eat nuggets.”
Aaron shakes his head, aware that his wife would also have partaken in whatever take-out fest had taken place in his absence.
“Of course she did,” he says, wrapping his arm around his, “You ok? You don’t quite seem yourself.”
Jack shifts so he’s looking at him, a thoughtful look on his face that never failed to remind Aaron of Haley.
“I did a family tree for school.”
“I know, Emily told me last night.”
She’d let him know that Jack asked about his parents and that she’d given him the best answer she could. Aaron had seen the concern in her eyes, her exhaustion and the naked honesty she always had around him now making her even easier to read for him. The way she loved him, and his son, was something that always blew him away, a type of love he hadn’t had an abundance of in his life.
“At school, the teacher talked about all the different family members, and what they do,” Jack explains, looking down at his lap and picking at his thumb in a way he’d picked up from Emily, “And I realised that everything she said a mom does, Emily does for me,” he pauses, and Aaron gives him a half smile, encouraging him to carry on, “she looks after me when I’m sick, and she helps me clean my room. She went to school when Brayden was being mean last year,” Aaron has to suppress a smirk at that, memories of having to talk his wife down from yelling at a stranger's child flooding his brain, “And last night she helped with my homework.”
“Emily loves you, buddy,” Aaron says, “She loves you more than she loves anyone else.”
“I know,” Jack replies, returning his attention to his thumbnail, “I love her too, I love her just as much as I love you and Mommy.”
Aaron nods, pulling his son closer to him, “I know, and so does she.”
“I…I was thinking I might start calling her Mom.” Jack says, quietly enough that Aaron almost misses it.
He feels a rush of love run through him, affection for his son, and the woman he loved still asleep upstairs, thrumming just under the surface of his skin. Emily had thrown herself into looking after Jack the moment she and Aaron had started dating, having no qualms at all about the realities of dating a single father. She’d made sure Jack was involved in every step they took as a family. He helped them look at houses, and was involved in planning their wedding.
He’d even helped Emily pick out her dress, the two of them teasing Aaron mercilessly for weeks in the lead-up to the big day.
Emily loved Jack as her own and never had any expectations of her ever being more to Jack than his friend, and then his stepmother.
This, Aaron knew, would mean everything to her.
“I think she’d love that, buddy,” Aaron says, his smile wide as he looks at his son, and he’s relieved as some of the tension seeps out of Jack’s shoulders. But some still remains, and Aaron reaches out, tilts Jack’s head up to look at him, “What is it?”
“Do you think it would make Mommy sad?”
Aaron sighs sadly, and immediately shakes his head at his son, “No, Jack. She would have been happy for you, for us, that we found someone who loves us enough for you to want to do this.”
Jack looks like he considers it for a second before he nods, beaming at his father, “Ok.” Aaron gathers his son against his side and they both focus on the tv for a few seconds, before Jack speaks again, “Daddy?”
“Yes?” Aaron says, looking down at his son to find the wide smile still on his face.
“Can you help me with something?”
___
“Jack, Aunt Jessie is here, hurry up!” Aaron calls up the stairs before shaking his head at his son as he walks back towards the kitchen, “I don’t know where he gets his timekeeping from,” he says, dropping a kiss to the top of Emily’s head as he walks past her, “It certainly isn’t me or Haley.”
Emily looks up from her cereal, and narrows her eyes at her husband as he stands next to where is sitting at the kitchen counter.
“Why do I feel like that's a not-so-subtle dig at me?” She asks, unable to stop her smile when he leans in to kiss her.
“Not a dig. It’s just one of the many wonderful things he’s picked up from you.”
She hums, “Nice save.”
They hear the thundering of Jack’s feet against the stairs, and then the hardwood of the hallway before he appears in the kitchen. His backpack is haphazardly over one shoulder, and his hair is a mess from where he’d pulled his sweater on over his head.
“Where’s Aunt Jessie?” He asks, looking back and forth between the two of them.
“In the car waiting for you,” Aaron says, his hand on his son’s shoulder, “Because you’re late.”
“Come here, honey,” Emily says, tugging Jack towards her and fixing his hair for him before leaning in to kiss his forehead, “Have fun.”
“Ok, Mom,” he says as if he’d said it a thousand times before, as he turns around and runs out of the kitchen, “Love you, see you tomorrow. You too, Dad.”
Aaron casts a look at his wife, who was sat frozen, her arm falling to her side as she stares at where Jack had just been standing. He follows his son to the front door, waves at Jessica in her car, and then closes the door. He walks back to the kitchen to find Emily still exactly as he had left her.
“Sweetheart,” he says, approaching her, “Are you ok?” He places a hand on her shoulder and it makes her jump slightly, her eyes shining as she looks up at him.
“Did he just…”
She drifts off and he smiles, tucking some hair behind her ear, “Yes he did.”
“And you…”
“Knew, yes,” he finishes for her, wiping away a tear he knew neither of them would address from her cheek, “Although, admittedly I did think he’d talk to you about it first.”
Emily lightly slaps his chest with the back of her hand before she pulls him towards her, her face pressing into his t-shirt.
“You jerk, you could have warned me,” she says, her voice muffled, but he can feel her smile, the happiness flowing through her.
“He only spoke to me about it this morning,” Aaron says, pulling back from her to kiss her, stamping another one against her lips before he carries on, “There wasn’t exactly time.”
“He wants to call me mom?” She asks, a crack to her voice that he expected, but that still makes him ache, his chest so full of love for her he thinks he might burst.
“Em,” he says, cupping her face in both his hands and leaning down to kiss her forehead, “You are his mom,” she turns her head to kiss his palm, another tear from her cheek warm against his skin as she moves. “Jack and I finished the family tree this morning, it’s still in the dining room if you want to see it.”
She pulls back, sniffing as she wipes her cheek, “We finished it last night,” she replies, confusion colouring her tone, and he simply smiles at her as he steps away, taking her abandoned breakfast bowl with him, and he shrugs.
Emily narrows her eyes at him and stands up from the stool she’d been sitting on, walking towards the dining room without further comment. She rounds the table to where Jack had been sitting last night, and chokes out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob as she looks at it, her hand over her mouth to try and capture the sound.
On Haley’s side of the tree, a line had been drawn out of her parent's to lay next to hers, the word ‘Aunt’ in handwriting that was clearly her husband’s below Jack’s that said ‘Jessica.’
On Aaron’s side, was a new column entirely. A box that said ‘Grandmother’ in his scrawl, with Jack’s messy writing spelling out ‘Elizabeth’ above it.
What makes Emily’s breath catch in her throat, and makes her wonder if she could ask the teacher to give this project back to them when it’s complete, is the box that is directly connected to Aaron’s and her mother’s. Both words written out by her son.
Emily.
Mom.
-x-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex
Join my tag list here!
Guess who’s trying to kill me?! You guessed it right! ❤️❤️🥹 this was so pure it hurts!
[Criminal minds season 12 spoilers]
I love the way ships work.
We really took didos ‘I will go down with this ship’ to heart
When emily takes over from hotch and says she’s ‘got some big shoes to fill’
My mind instantly thought
OMG HOTCHNISS CANON SHES TRIED HIS SHOES ON
This user right here it’s basically the lil voice inside my head. ISTG!
By any chance does anyone remember a hotchniss edit on Instagram with the song “blackest day” by Lana del rey. I’ve been looking for the edit but I can’t see to find it. HELPPP 😭
Led Us Here
Just a little something. Haven't written in a while. Hope you like it!
In which they're both drunk and Hotch tries to be the good guy.
Warnings: Smut, oral fem receiving
18+ Minors DNI
Word Count: 663
Too many fine scotches pressed into his hand by Rossi, smiling as he told them stories of Ringo behind the ring of his glass had led him here. Tequila, salt, and lime pressed into Emily’s hand whenever Derek or JJ came back from the bar that she would never turn down.
It had led them to be pressed up against her hotel room wall. Emily’s legs wrapped around his waist; her hands woven so tight in his hair it was almost painful. Him pressing between her thighs hard enough to make her moan as his hands held the round globes of her ass. The kisses were heated, pent up desire and too much alcohol bringing them to a boiling point.
Her hands first move down the front of his pants made him snap back to a cold reality. He couldn’t do this, he was her boss. They were also drunk making it even more wrong in his mind. It took all of his strength to pull his mouth from hers, lips chasing his making her fingers tighten even harder in his hair. “God, Emily. We can’t do this,” he breathed against her lips, his hands tightening around her cheeks just for one more feel.
“Why not?” she panted as her lips pressed against his neck, tongue sliding up to his ear. “Don’t you want me? She licked against him. “Of course I do,” he accentuated by pushing his painful erection against her core, earing a moan from both of them. “We just can’t. I’m your boss and we’re both drunk. We can’t? he tried to reason as he saw anger flash through her eyes.
“Fine then, don’t. I’ll finish this myself,” she said as she pushed away from him and the wall. Sauntering towards the bed with her fingers unbuttoning her blouse as he stood there frozen. Dropping the blouse to the floor with her pants following not a second later. Hotch had no idea why he was even still standing her watching. He should just turn and walk out the door, but the sight of her tiny white lace underwear kept him glued to his spot.
He watched as she climbed on to the bed and kneeling on all fours. Her legs spread as she made no move to turn away from his hungry eyes. The wet spot in the center of her panties making his brain short circuit as his hand drifted to palm his still straining erection.
Hotch watched as her fingers slid between her legs rubbing over the little wet patch with a practiced hand. A loud moan falling from the face he couldn’t see any more. His control was snapping. Her sweet little moans and the fingers that were now inside of the white lace bringing him to his knees behind her on the bed.
He just needed one little taste. Just to know, that’s what he told himself. His body not listening to his brain as his hands gripped her ass cheeks again, spreading her wide. Mouth falling to lick the wet patch where her fingers were moving up under. “I thought we couldn’t do this, Hotch?” she moaned as he pulled her panties to the side. “Just one taste, Em. I just need-“ he muffled into her as he buried his tongue inside of her, causing her to cry out.
Both of her hands gripping the comforter as he ate her like a starved man. She could feel the vibrations of his moans against her, going straight to her clit. “Hotch please, please” she begged as he moved two fingers inside her. Her back arching as her orgasm ripped through her. Hotch lapped up everything she had to give, growling in to the seam of her as she heard his belt being ripped through the loops of his pants. “Are we doing this?” she panted as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Yeah, yeah we’re doing this” he panted as he climbed over her body.
I see a grumpy fictional man and immediately make him the softest, sweetest, most lovingly devoted partner, and I love that for me.
Hypnos
Aaron is tired, if only Emily could convince him to rest
-x-
Just some fluff to get through the mid-week slump ❤️
-x-
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: very mild references to injury, but nothing in detail at all
Read over on Ao3 in my collection of mini-fics and one-shots, or below the cut.
“I think this is a bad idea,” Emily says, standing in front of the couch where her husband was sitting, her arms crossed over her chest, “we should just cancel.”
“Em,” Aaron sighs as he looks up at her, “we agreed to this weeks ago.”
“That was before you collapsed in the middle of a briefing and had to have major abdominal surgery.”
It was one of the scariest phone calls she’d ever had in her life. She’d heard something was wrong in Dave’s voice the moment he called her, and she’d never been more grateful that her office was just across town.
It was the comprise that had kept her in DC. Clyde’s offer to move to London, to start again, had been tempting if not for the fact she didn’t want to leave Aaron behind. She loved him, and the morning of the explosion in the bank they were supposed to be looking at houses, planning a future for the two of them and Jack that was more solid than anything any of them had experienced before. Despite her turning him down Clyde had still insisted, and when he realised she wasn’t going to change her mind he changed tactic, which is what had led to her taking over Interpol’s DC office.
It was the change she’d needed, that feeling picking at the back of her brain that something was going to go wrong gone as quickly as she handed her notice in at the BAU. It suited them. They were no longer using technicalities to get around rules, there was no willful ignorance from their superiors. They worked separately, and she was at home for Jack when Aaron was away on a case.
She’d never regretted leaving the BAU, it had been the right thing for her, for her relationships with the people she loved like a family, but the in the moment that Dave called she had. Wishing she could have been by his side, that she could see him for herself.
He was a terrible patient, somehow even worse than her, and in the four weeks since his surgery, he’d been frustrated. She knew the pain was familiar to him, a ghost of the man who had put him in the hospital in the first place, and it reminded him of things he would never be able to forget.
“I need to get out of the house, Em. You know what it’s like.”
“I know I do,” she replies, sitting next to him on the couch, placing her hand on his knee, “that’s exactly why I am in the very unique position to tell you how much of a bad idea this is. You get so tired still.”
“It’s just pasta night with the team,” he says, half smiling at her, “it’s not like I’m running a marathon.”
“Exactly, it’s just pasta night, it’s not like it’s rare. All you have to do is mention bolognese around Dave and he’s already making it,” she offers him a smile, “one time I just thought about it and he started planning a pasta night. It’s like he’s got a sixth sense.”
Aaron laughs and immediately winces, the movement pulling at his still sore abdomen, and it makes her smile fade, her concern increasing again, her eyebrows furrowing. He looks at her and places his hand over hers on his knee.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he assures her, “it would just be nice to see everyone. Jack is already with Jess, we should go out.”
She closes her eyes and blows out a breath, before leaning forward to briefly press her forehead into his shoulder.
“Fine,” she concedes, pulling back to look at him, “but I’m driving,” he opens his mouth to argue, and she presses her finger to his lips to stop him, “you’re not allowed to drive for at least another two weeks, Aaron. You won’t have me breaking the rules about that.”
“Yes ma’am,” He says, his words mumbled as he smiles at her. He kisses her finger from where it is pressed to his lips, and it makes her roll her eyes at him.
“Ridiculous man.”
___
He makes it through dinner just fine.
Emily watches as he barely covers a wince when Penelope hugs him a little too enthusiastically when they arrive. She also sees the way he regularly shifts in his seat at the dinner table out of the corner of her eye, never quite able to get comfortable.
She’s in the kitchen with JJ and Penelope, laughing over a story they had told countless times before when they are interrupted.
“Emily.”
She turns to see Spencer standing behind them, his hands in his pockets as he smiles slightly awkwardly at them.
“Have you come to join the fun, genius boy?” Penelope asks, waving a bottle of wine at him, having clearly drunk both her and Emily’s share.
“No, um,” he looks back at Emily, pursing his lips together, “Hotch keeps falling asleep on the couch, and Derek and Dave are joking about drawing something on his face,” he swallows thickly, “and I don’t want Hotch to think I had anything to do with it if he wakes up with something…phallic on his cheek. Again.”
Emily hears both JJ and Penelope snicker, and she has to stop herself from doing the same.
“Yes,” she says, draining the rest of her drink before putting the empty glass down, “they used permanent marker at his bachelor party,” she turns to JJ and Penelope with a raised eyebrow, “we only just got it off before the wedding. I would have loved to explain it to my mother though,” the pair laugh again, and she turns to Spencer again, “Thanks, Spence. It's probably time I took him home.”
Any laughter that she walks in on, fades as soon as she raises an eyebrow at Derek and Dave, both men hastily making an exit as she walks over to the couch where Aaron had fallen asleep. His head was propped up on his hand, his face slack, relaxed in a way he only found in sleep.
She sits next to him and smiles, gently running her knuckles down his cheek. It makes him twitch, his eyes opening to look at her blearily.
He’d always been a light sleeper, her Aaron.
“Em?”
“Hi,” she says quietly, “we should get going.”
“I’m fine,” he protests, blinking wildly in an attempt to wake himself up.
“Baby,” she admonishes softly, stroking at his cheek again, “you can barely keep your eyes open, lets just go home, ok?”
He nods, conceding to her request. “Ok, sweetheart, we’ll go home.”
___
When she exits the en-suite, dressed and ready for bed, he’s already half asleep, laying on his back. She smiles as she joins him, automatically curling around his side. She’s careful as she lays her arm over his chest, ensuring she doesn’t touch any of his new scars from the most recent surgery.
When they got together they both had scars. Physical marks of their past, as if sewn into a patchwork of their lives, the darkest parts of their histories the most obvious to see. She hadn’t been nervous about him seeing them, because she knew he had them too.
These scars would be no different. They would be a new part of him they would discover together.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as she settles into his side, her leg over his hips, her head against his shoulder.
“What for honey?” She asks, turning her head to kiss his neck.
“For not listening to you,” he says, his words almost slurring together, “should have just stayed here, cuddled you.”
She smiles against his skin, kissing his neck again before resettling her head on his shoulder.
“It’s ok, that’s what we’re doing right now,” she closes her eyes and breathes him in, “you get some sleep.”
He hums, his arm wrapping around her as he pulls her a little closer, “Thank you for not saying I told you so.”
“Oh I never would,” she says, smiling to herself as she purposely pauses, “until you’re completely better. I’m saving them all up for then.”
-x-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77
Join my tag list here!
The boy falling first trope always hits harder
- Vincent Van Gogh
Lily Collins attends the ‘Okja’ screening during the 70th annual Cannes Film Festival at Palais des Festivals on May 19, 2017 in Cannes, France.
did it hurt? when u realized u can't read all the books in the world?
