charlton.exe

she/they || gf of emily prentiss insta: sachston.exe

[nessasgunholster]

𝜗𝜚 intro 𝜗𝜚

‎ꫂ᭪݁ lore ⋆ ⚢ ⋆ she/they ⋆ infp ‎⋆ '08 ꫂ᭪݁

── my works ──

⪼ boogeyman - rizzles

⪼ feels like the walls are caving in - regina mills x fem!reader

⪼ my strongest girl - amelia shepherd x fem!reader

⪼ confession party - sachston

⪼ nothing's gonna hurt you (here in my arms) - sachston

── tags i use ──

⪼ saved edits

⪼ tdwp / emily blunt / andy sachs

⪼ cm first watch / criminal minds

[emilys-bangs]

Mom!Emily with a baby girl who’s a little older… maybe 2 or 3, and is entering that stage where she hates when mom leaves for work.

Maybe all 3 of you are at the front door seeing Emily off. Baby girl is just pouting and whining and gripping onto Emily’s pant legs ❤️‍🩹

tearful goodbyes | e.p

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, mom!emily, no use of yn, use of petnames

Word count: 1.8k

This broke my heart...but I also loved it <3

mom!emily masterlist

This used to be easier. 

When Emily wasn’t part of a whole, when she didn’t have a ring around her finger and a piece of her heart walking around on little legs and clutching her calves at the door. Leaving used to be a matter of throwing a bag over her shoulder and piling food for Sergio in his bowl. Now it’s tears at the front door, her heart splitting in two as she fights an internal battle she already knows she’s going to lose.

Having a family changed everything. Having you changed everything; Emily’s life shifted, turned on its head when you came into it, and Eloise only added to the light in both of your lives. Two became three, a lonely apartment became a lively one. She wouldn’t change it for the world, but sometimes she wishes it didn’t have to be this hard.

“Eloise,” she says softly over the sound of sobs, “Mommy has to go.”

Emily has to speak past the lump in her throat. It was quick to appear when her daughter wrapped her small hands around her knee, pressing her face into it and soaking Emily’s slacks with her tears. Now Eloise whines, looking up at her mother with tearful eyes that make Emily’s heart twist.

“Mommy stay.” Her lip wobbles.

She’s growing tired of saying I can’t, so Emily bends down and picks her up. Eloise scrambles into her arms, hugging her neck and dampening her skin with her tears. The three-year-old clings to her tightly, arms around her neck and legs around her waist, as if her mother is going off into the trenches rather than the BAU.

Help me, Emily begs you with her eyes, the taste of tears thick in the back of her throat. She rubs absent circles on Eloise’s back as you step closer to them, your hand joining hers.

“Ellie,” you say, catching your daughter’s attention. She turns to you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Mommy has to leave for work now, you gotta let her go.” You gently wipe her damp cheek.

“No.” Eloise whines. “Want Mommy to stay.”

“I’ll stay for five minutes,” Emily says, her voice scratchy as she combs through Eloise’s messy hair with her fingers, “and then I have to go, okay? And you have to go to preschool.”

Eloise dissolves into sobs again. “No,” she hiccups, burying her face in Emily’s neck and scorching her skin with her hot tears. You chew on your lip and Emily blows out a breath, shaky as she rocks her flailing daughter.

“Honey, you’ll have fun at preschool. You always do. You’ll get to play with Lily and see Miss Emma.” She desperately tries to soothe. Her voice is on the edge of cracking, frayed and thready from being the reason for Eloise’s meltdown.

This used to be easier.

“Don’t wanna go! Wanna go with you.” Her daughter whimpers. Emily’s heart cracks. 

“Baby…”

It would be so easy. To call Hotch, tell him she’s down with the flu. There’s no case, only a mind numbing day of paperwork ahead, and she can just have JJ swing her case files by after work—

“Okay,” you announce, suddenly waving around a sheet of red heart stickers. “I’ve got an idea.”

Emily frowns. When did you get those? Probably when she’d involuntarily closed her eyes against the sound of her daughter’s tears.

“Hey, Eloise,” you gently smooth some of her hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, baby. Can you give me your hand?” You ask softly, reaching for the hand she has fisted in Emily’s collar. 

Eloise blinks at you with damp eyes. “Mommy will be right here, just give me your hand, honey,” you reassure. Emily nudges her lips against Eloise’s forehead in a kiss, and when you hold your hand out this time, she places hers in your palm.

“Thank you,” you quickly kiss the back of her tiny hand before showing her the pack of stickers you’d gotten. “See these?”

Eloise nods. You peel one of the hearts from the sheet and gently place it on the back of her hand. Both Emily and Eloise peer down at it, their foreheads pressed together as you smooth your thumb over the sticker to make sure it sticks.

You look to Emily when you’re done. “Mommy, can I have your hand, please?” A small smile pulls at your lips.

Emily matches it with a soft one of her own as she shifts Eloise to her other hip and frees her right hand. You take it and place a matching red heart on the back of her hand, right in the middle; it stands out against her pale skin. Again you rub your thumb over it to make it stick, both the action and Eloise’s quieting sniffles making her relax. 

With her hand still in yours, you take Eloise’s too. “See these hearts you and Mommy have?” You ask, holding their hands side by side. Eloise nods into Emily’s neck; your wife smiles, starting to see where this is going. “Whenever you miss her, you can just touch the heart. And when Mommy misses you, she touches her heart. Like this,” you touch your thumb to the heart on Eloise’s hand, smiling at her gently. 

Eloise sniffles. “Mommy’s in the heart?” She looks up at Emily.

“I’m in the heart,” Emily agrees softly, wiping a wayward tear from the corner of her eye. “And you’re in my heart, too, see?” She turns her hand.

Eloise presses her thumb to the sticker. Her pout gives and she smiles, one of Emily’s dimples digging into her cheek. “You’re in the heart!” She giggles, throwing her arms around Emily’s neck again.

“That’s right.” Emily kisses her forehead, the tightness in her chest loosening. Her eyes meet yours and you wink. She blows out a sigh, squeezing her daughter before preparing herself to let go. “I’ll pick you up from preschool today, okay Eloise?”

“Okay Mommy.”

“I’ll see you soon. Be a good girl, sweetheart.” She says as she leans over to you and eases her into your arms. Eloise doesn’t protest this time, settling into your chest quietly as she looks down at the heart.

Emily knows she’s late, but since she already is, she takes a moment to bend down a little, curling her finger gently under her daughter’s chin to tip it up. “I love you, baby,” she murmurs and kisses her cheek as Eloise mumbles a response.

Straightening, Emily reaches for you. “Love you, sweetheart,” she gives you a quick kiss, her hand gratefully squeezing your waist. “You’re a lifesaver.” She breathes; quietly, just for you.

“I know I am,” you wink. Taking her hand off your waist, you gently kiss her ring—your own version of a sticker heart. “Now go, you’re late.”

This time, when Emily reaches for the door, there’s no one there to hold her back. 

“Bye Mommy!” Eloise waves from your arms. You stifle a smile into her hair, your hand lifting in a small wave of your own.

“Bye Eloise.” Emily waves back, her chest squeezing again as she forces herself to step out of the comfort of her home.

She walks into work eight minutes late with a scowl on her face, a damp patch on her clothes, and a red heart on the back of her hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” she mumbles to Hotch when she walks into the round table room. His eyes fall to the heart on her hand and he nods, not giving her any usual reprimand as she takes her seat. Emily’s grateful for that, but while he gets the hint, Morgan doesn’t.

He nudges her when they’re back at their desks. “Hotch didn’t even tell you off today. I think he’s going sweet on you, princess—”

“Not today, Morgan.” She snaps, his teasing tone grating against her nerves. Her mouth sets into a firm line when she catches the picture of you and Eloise on her desk.

He leaves her alone after that.

It’s a paperwork day, and for the first time in ever, she’s glad for it as she sinks into her thoughts. Her pen taps against her file as she replays the morning, rethinks her job, reiterates to herself—or tries to—that it’s just a phase, more to do with her daughter’s clinginess than her work hours. Still, the thoughts don’t leave her. It’s a miracle she manages to get anything done by the time Eloise’s preschool lets out and she’s getting up from her desk, tossing her purse over her shoulder and catching sight of the heart in her hand.

All the tension in her loosens when Eloise skips into her arms, beaming as her pigtails bounce. 

“Mommy!”

Emily scoops her up into her chest. “Hi, baby.” She kisses her forehead, hot from the sun, and shifts her more securely on her hip. “Did you have a good day?”

“Uh-huh,” Eloise says. Her fingers hook in the chain of Emily’s necklace. “Lily got me cookies!”

“Oh, she did? That’s nice, did they taste good?” She asks. Eloise nods happily and Emily tugs gently on a pigtail, “We’ll have to make some and share with her tomorrow, what do you think?”

“With chocolate chips?” Eloise turns her wide eyes to her mother.

“Of course with chocolate chips,” Emily agrees, every muscle unwinding at the sound of her daughter’s sweet voice. “We can’t have cookies without chocolate chips.” They reach the car and she opens the door, settling Eloise into her car seat.

As she buckles her in, Emily catches sight of the heart sticker on the back of her small hand. “So, did you miss me today?” She asks playfully.

“No,” Eloise says.

“Oh.” Emily’s brows furrow. As sweet as her daughter is, she is a toddler, something Emily is reminded of every time she forgets. A chuckle slips past her lips as she shakes her head, “Well, I did—”

“You were here,” Eloise interrupts, pointing to the heart on the back of her hand. 

Emily smiles softly. “That’s right,” she laughs. “I was with you the whole time. But you know what, Ellie Bellie?” Her fingers skate over Eloise’s stomach, gently tickling her until her girl starts laughing, “I still missed you anyway. Even though you were with me.”

Eloise looks up at her as she kisses her forehead. “Missed ’gio,” she says.

“Oh you missed him did you? I can never win when it comes to him.” Emily mock tsks, but she’s smiling as she shuts the back door closed. She slides into the driver’s seat and flicks her eyes up to the rearview mirror, instinctively checking on Eloise as she buckles her seatbelt. She turns on the car and drives off, any remaining tension melting off her body when she catches sight of the ring on her finger, the reminder of you and home just a few minutes away. 

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics

[nessasgunholster]

“Want Mommy to stay.” ok jokes on you i was already crying from the beginning 💔💔

[emilys-bangs]

this is me trying | e.p

Tags: established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, mom!emily, no use of yn, use of petnames

Summary: Emily misses one of Eloise's milestones and tries to deal with it. Requested here.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: my longest fic is officially a momily fic oops...(gimme more momily thoughts please) also I did the convo with Hotch instead of JJ because he's surprisingly easier to write than her :p

mom!emily masterlist

Emily was having an okay day. It was her second night away on a case and it was unraveling quickly, quick enough that she thought she’d be home for dinner.

She wasn’t.

Instead, she gets a call from you around Eloise’s bedtime. With the ring comes a twist of guilt in her stomach; she’d promised herself she’d call this time instead of you, but her reminder to set an alarm slipped from her mind, and soon she got swept up in an endless whirlpool of case files and paper trails. Silencing her phone, she pushes her chair back and stands up, her eyes flitting over Reid and JJ’s forms bent over the conference room table. They can handle a few minutes on their own.

Emily slips into an empty office, shuttering the blinds as she accepts the video call before it rings out. Crackly noise comes through and she smiles at the sight of you and Eloise on the plush carpet of her nursery, the little girl already in her pajamas and sitting in the cradle of your crossed legs. Some of the tightness in her chest loosens.

“Hi there,” Emily smiles softly as you hold the camera away from Eloise’s grabby hands, her eyes tracing your faces through the screen, “how are my favorite people in the world doing?” She asks, perching on the edge of the table.

“Good,” you say, smoothing a hand over Eloise’s damp hair. “Sleepy, but someone won’t—”

“Bye-bye!” Eloise interrupts cheerfully—her favorite word as of late.

Emily chuckles, her shoulders slumping at the bell-like tinkle of her daughter’s voice. “But I just saw you, sweet girl. I don’t wanna say bye so soon, do you?”

“Bye,” she repeats.

“Think I should go,” Emily wrinkles her nose at you, the playful gesture pulling a laugh from your toddler.

“Maybe she’s finally starting to learn it’s bedtime,” you say, kissing the top of her head. “We’re starting to feel sleepy, aren’t we, Eloise?” Your voice softens as you trace your finger down the soft bridge of her nose, a trick you and Emily use to soothe her to sleep.

But Eloise stubbornly shakes her head. “Nnn.” She turns her face away, placing two hands on your knee.

Emily smiles at the domestic image, her heart tugging with a need to be home. To join your daughter in the circle of your legs, feel your arms around her waist as you both worked to lull her to sleep. 

She breathes through the ache, forcing herself to smile. “Well, we both know where that came—”

Her playful jab falls away when she sees Eloise stand, her hands still on your knee to hold herself up. Emily holds her breath, waiting for her to topple, but her daughter steps over your leg and walks to the drawers behind you. Her movements are wobbly but she doesn’t fall, babbling bye, bye, bye under her breath as she fiddles with the handle of the drawer at her level.

You don’t give a reaction apart from a guilty twist of your lips. Still, Emily waits for something; surprise, shock, excited laughter. The only thing that happens is an apologetic shrug of your shoulders, resigned and defeated.

Her heart sinks.

“She—” Emily sucks in a breath, her throat dry. “She started walking? When?” She hates how her voice is croaky, how it breaks as her heart picks up its pace.

You guiltily chew on your lip. “Yesterday morning.”

Yesterday morning. She was on the jet by then. Something bitter coats her tongue, digging into her molars; the inside of her cheeks pucker.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

But it’s obvious why you didn’t.

“Emily…”

“Mmamamama,” Eloise comes over again, her small, onesie-covered feet showing up on the screen. She grabs the phone from your limp fingers, her sweet, clueless face reaching the edges of Emily’s phone. “Ma,” she babbles, and Emily forces a smile.

“Mommy’s here, sweetheart.” She says hoarsely. 

Her voice cracks around the blatant lie.

___

They’re on the jet home less than twenty four hours later. It was as happy an outcome as they can possibly hope for; unsub in cuffs, airtight evidence, families reunited with their loved ones.

And yet everyone notices Emily’s mood. 

They notice it but say nothing about it, letting her churn in silence as she bypasses all the seats in the jet to sit in the back. Her go bag is thrown under her chair, her arms tightly crossed over her chest as she looks out the window and toys with her ring.

Takeoff is a blur. The lights dim and she chances a glance at her watch, hopelessly willing the time to go by faster. As she’s turning her head, she spots movement from the corner of her eye.

Hotch sits down across from her. He’s quiet as he places a mug of tea next to her phone, but when he leans back into his seat, she sees the concern—and the question—in his eyes.

“You’re upset.” He says.

If Emily wasn’t feeling so miserable, she might have scoffed. Maybe she could have deflected, or lashed out and told him to leave her alone and wallow in her self loathing. 

But she’s too tired for that. And Hotch has kind eyes; he understands, what she’s feeling, more than anyone.

So Emily finds herself cracking. 

“Eloise. She, uh…she took her first steps two days ago.” Emily says quietly, staring intensely at the mug he’s placed in front of her. The lump forms yet again, the threatening press of tears just behind her eyes. Her own words only make her gut churn. “...And I wasn’t there.” She adds unnecessarily, her voice lowered to a whisper because any louder and she’s sure it’ll break.

Her daughter crossed off a huge milestone. And instead of cheering her on, taking her into her arms and kissing her little cheeks, Emily was off hundreds of miles away, hunting down a pathetic, homicidal man rather than being there for her own child. Emily had promised herself that she’d always be there—for every dance recital, every parent teacher meeting. But she couldn’t even be there for Eloise’s first steps.

She’s just as bad as her mother, prioritizing a job over her own daughter. The thought makes her bite down on her lip, hard. The metallic taste of blood floods her tongue.

“How do you deal with it?” She asks thickly. Emily doesn’t look up at him as she twists her fingers into her necklace, smoothing her thumb over the engraved E and staring intently at the mug he’s placed on top of a coaster—because of course Hotch got a coaster.

The answer she gets is a low, heavy exhale that she feels in her bones. Emily looks up, chancing a glance at him even though she knows her eyes are probably shining under the low lights of the jet.

Hotch swallows, carefully measuring his words before he speaks. “I try to remind myself that I’m making the world a better place for him. Though most of the time it’s a lousy excuse.” His lips press together in a small, bitter, smile. A hand goes through his hair and a few strands flop back into his face; for the first time, Emily sees a rumpled, exhausted single dad rather than her put together Unit Chief. “I guess I try to deal with it by giving Jack 100% of my attention when I’m home. I shut everything out and focus on him, for however many hours I can get. I’d like to think I’m making a difference, but…” He trails off, shrugs. 

Emily’s stomach sinks then. She presses her lips together, fighting against the shine in her eyes that now reflects in Hotch’s. 

There’s no good answer. No way to make herself feel better about it. She knew that, and yet hearing it from him somehow makes it worse. The chain of her necklace tugs sharply against her throat.

“It helps,” he speaks up again, a tinge of sadness to his voice, “knowing that she’s not alone. She’ll always have someone. And no matter what, she’ll always know you love her.” He says gently. Somewhere in the shadowy corners of her mind, she realizes she’s never heard him talk this softly before, at least not to her.

Emily swallows hard. “What if—” Her voice shakes. She snaps her mouth shut, grabs the mug and takes a scorching sip. The chamomile doesn’t register on her taste buds, neither does the sweetness of two Splenda’s. Emily wraps her cold, trembling hands around the mug, looking into it as she forces herself to say the words. “What if she wants me? And if I’m not there…” Her voice grows hoarse again.

She swallows again. Drinks her tea, again. Closes her eyes against the tears, digs a thumb into her wedding ring. “What does that tell your child about you, Hotch? When you’re not there and they need you to be?”

Emily pretends not to hear the crack in her own voice. Hotch pretends, too, as he leans forward on the table. “You’re not a bad mom,” he says quietly. His tone is firm, unwavering. “You care and you’re trying and they’ll know that.”

They. Their combined children, victims of their job. He says it like he’s begging for it to be enough. For his sake and for hers.

Emily tries to believe it. She really, truly does, but she can’t stop the whispers that say it’s not enough.

___

When she walks into your home, the living room is empty.

Emily follows the sound of your voice and Eloise’s, her breaths coming easier as her feet lead her to the nursery. She inhales the scent of home; baby powder and your perfume and the detergent all of your clothes are washed with. Before she lets herself caught up in it—in you—Emily stores her gun in the safe, drops her go bag in the laundry room.

Finally, she stops at Eloise’s nursery. You’re sitting on the floor just like you were yesterday, Eloise again sitting between your crossed legs. There’s a book in her hands that she furrows her brows at, intently studying the colored pages as if she’ll be quizzed on them. 

The sight makes Emily smile.

“Knock knock,” she says softly, briefly scaring you. The tension in your shoulders melts when you see it’s her, a small smile curling your lips as she toes off her boots and walks into the nursery.

“Hi,” you whisper. Eloise finally looks up from her book just as Emily settles next to you on the floor, where she wished she would be just last night.

“Mama!” Her baby squeals, and Emily’s heart constricts, and her vision blurs as she reaches her hands out to carry her into her arms.

“Hi, Eloise,” she whispers. She feels the scrape of tears in the back of her throat and swallows, pressing her lips to her daughter’s soft cheek to stifle them. “I missed you.” Another kiss goes to her other cheek, then one to her forehead. 

Your hand falls to her knee and squeezes; Emily takes a hand off of Eloise’s back, places it over your knuckles. She skates her thumb over your skin, squeezes her daughter with her other hand. 

“I heard my sweet girl started walking.” Emily murmurs, letting go of your hand to smooth Eloise’s hair behind her ears. It’s an adorable mess, the way it springs right back in her face bringing a smile to Emily’s lips. “Can you show Mommy, honey?”

Her dark eyes stare into Emily’s; twin pairs. “Hi,” Eloise mumbles.

“Hi, my love. I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” she says, her voice cracking on the last word. Her daughter doesn’t notice, too busy with reaching out to fiddle with her necklace. Emily runs her palms over the soft cotton of her onesie, hugging her close and trying to remind herself that she’s here now. “I’m so proud of you, Eloise. Mommy’s always proud of you, you know?” Tears balance on her lashes as she turns her head again to kiss a soft cheek. “You’re my girl.”

Emily didn’t used to be an easy crier. 

Having a child changed that; she cried at Eloise’s ultrasound, cried at her birth. She cried when her daughter said Mama and when she was running a mild fever of 99.5. Tears were easy to come, at bumps and bruises, at small snippets of her personality that start to form with time, at a singular candle blown on her birthday. Undeniably, her daughter is her Achilles heel. Emily is still trying to deal with that, trying to adjust to having her heart walk around unprotected on tiny, wobbly legs that still don’t know where to go.

Emily doesn’t realize she’s been rocking her daughter back and forth until your arm wraps around her shoulders. The weight of it forces her to go still; when she leans back, she leans back into you.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles. Eloise wriggles in her arms and she lets her go, only for the little girl to plop between both of you. Her small hands fiddle with the badge on her hip; Emily’s eyes dart down to her, a wobbly smile pulling on her lips.

“Em,” you whisper, cupping her chin in your hand. Her gaze meets yours again. “You have nothing to apologize for.” You say quietly. With more tenderness than she deserves, you wipe the wetness under her eye.

Emily shakes her head. “I wasn’t there.” She says, her lip trembling as more of her tears drip onto your palm.

An adamant frown pulls your brows together. “Look at her.” You murmur, both firm and soft as you catch a tear before it falls onto Eloise’s head. Emily does, her heart clenching when she finds Eloise’s chin already tipped up, their eyes clashing in identical shades of brown. “She’s just happy you’re home, baby. We both are.”

“But—”

“Mama cry?” Eloise’s sweet voice pipes up.

The palpable sadness in it breaks Emily’s heart. Eloise frowns fiercely as she shoves her small palms into Emily’s knee, steadying herself before standing on her own and taking two steps to reach her mother. 

Pride flares in her chest. Eloise stands on her tiptoes, her small hands falling on her mother’s face; Emily’s hands go to her waist, steadying her. “Mama cry?” Her baby asks again, her eyes far too serious for a just turned one-year-old.

Emily smiles and this time it’s more genuine. “I’m okay, sweet girl.” She lifts a small fist off her cheek and brings it to her lips. “I love you.”

“Wuv.”

“You tell her, Ellie.” You lean against Emily’s side, your hand going to her cheek to wipe the remaining tears. Eloise’s hand joins yours and Emily laughs, shaky and wet even though your daughter is being none too careful. “That’s what we like to hear,” you murmur, tucking Emily’s hair behind her ear. Eloise falls into her lap and she instinctively holds her, her hands secure around her body even though she doesn’t break eye contact with you.

“Listen to me. You’re here now. That’s what matters, okay? It could’ve happened at any time—hell, I could’ve been at work when it happened. This is not on you.” You say firmly, your voice almost scolding. But your hands on her face are soft, cradling her cheeks with gentle care; the pad of your thumb skims absently over her jaw.

Emily’s lips twitch. Your words go through one ear and out the other; nothing against you, but she’s never relied on them for comfort. Instead she leans forward and presses her forehead to yours, closing her eyes as your noses bump together. Her shoulders slump, her body relaxing when Eloise presses her cheek to her chest.

“I love you.” She says, soft, pressing the statement into your lips.

“I love you too.”

“Wuv.” Eloise joins in.

You and Emily both laugh as you look down at her, a familiar warmth returning to Emily’s chest at being home, with her family. She lifts her daughter back into her arms and kisses her until she giggles, until the sound of her laughter drowns out Emily’s thoughts. She’s not sure if she trusts your words, trusts that your love and Eloise’s won’t simmer to resentment when this situation is inevitably repeated in an endless cycle.

But for now, she’ll believe them. Believe you.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

[nessasgunholster]

i’m sobbing.

[jennywtheglock]

penelope's voicemail to emily in 6x18: "I think about how scared you must be.."

emily to penelope in 19x09: "I was so scared."

brb jumping off a cliff.

[itsgivingmeyou]

Tell Me Something

Summary:

Henry's at college. Voit's locked up for good. For the first time in a long time, JJ and Emily have nothing to manage but each other. What if the S19 slow burn was happening over text? Here's what was on their phones. JJ: tell me something

Emily: I won’t stay up too late, I promise. Sleep well Jayje ❤️

—————————————

Emily: Did Henry get settled ok? How is the trip? (Don’t text and drive)

JJ: He’s all good and at orientation now…I feel all the feelings and I also feel numb (Tyler is driving…good morning)

Emily: I bet. It’s a lot. I wish I could have gone with you.

JJ: I know. But a Unit Chief never rests.

JJ: you would go mad with the amount of stops Penelope requires on a road trip

Emily: This is why I prefer the jet

JJ: Also Tyler is letting Luke pick the playlists and it’s…interesting. I did not know he loved esoteric jazz so much. I’m falling asleep…

Emily: You SHOULD get some sleep, you’ve earned it. Talk to you later ok? xo

JJ: Ok ❤️

—————————————

JJ: Hi from outside of Albuquerque. I just counted 14 tumbleweeds going across the road. Time and space mean nothing here

JJ: tell me something

Emily: Bring me something back but not a tumbleweed please

Emily: I had brunch with Tara and Rebecca…they’re good. I went into the office but it was lonely…

Emily: On my couch reading a bad novel now. I’m not very interesting. How are you feeling?

JJ: I’d have to kick Tyler out of the car to fit a tumbleweed anyway…which…hmmm. 🤔 (Em you are always interesting)

JJ: I feel…it’s weird. I miss Hen so much already. I’m excited for him though. I remember the first week in the dorms…the overwhelm, the new friends, figuring out how to do stuff on my own….

JJ: I am trying to give him space and not text him. So I’m texting you instead ❤️

(Hearted by Emily Prentiss)

—————————————

Emily: Please don’t make fun of me but my first week at college was the first time I ever had to do my own laundry. All my clothes came out pink

JJ: EMILY. WHAT.

JJ: you had NEVER done laundry?!????

Emily: Ambassador’s kid! Never needed to!

JJ: wow 😭

Emily: It’s going to be weird for a while. And when you get back, we will have a case but…it’s not Voit for once.

JJ: yeah how are YOU feeling about that?

Emily: It feels a little…hollow?? We did good work. He sucked up 4 years of our lives…

Emily: I couldn’t have done it without you.

JJ: (typing)…

JJ: I wouldn’t have let you

Emily: (typing)…

—————————————

JJ: made it to OKC for the night…sleep well, Em

—————————————

(Hearted by Emily Prentiss)

Emily: What’s it going to be like to finish work at a normal time? What are we supposed to do on weekends now?

JJ: We could do that thing we always talked about but never had time for, where you and I visit every wine bar within a six block radius of each of our houses and rate them

JJ: We could have a scorecard

Emily: We could have Penelope make us a spreadsheet.

JJ: YES.

JJ: I’d like that

JJ: I think that maybe

JJ: (typing)...

Emily: you think what?

JJ: maybe I want to spend a lot of time with you when I get back

JJ: if that’s ok

JJ: with you

Emily: (typing)...

Emily: (typing)...

Emily: I’d like that ❤️

—————————————

Emily: Goodnight, Jayje

JJ: Night, Em ❤️

—————————————

Emily: One more long day, right?

JJ: I love these guys but I need my own bed and less jazz

JJ: We should be home by 10 PM if Penelope can handle minimal stops

Emily: You can do it I believe in you

JJ: Any big plans today?

Emily: Only working a half day because again…the office is lonely

Emily: Maybe a walk, maybe some takeout. Maybe texting you.

Emily: The day is young

JJ: Luke just asked me why I’m texting instead of playing the license plate game

JJ: Emily I am in hell

Emily: Tell him it’s none of his business 😂

—————————————

JJ: What are you doing tomorrow?

JJ: Morning?

Emily: I haven’t gotten that far yet but nothing interesting why?

JJ: Can I come over? I’ll bring breakfast.

JJ: The bagels you like

Emily: You won’t be too tired?

JJ: no

JJ: I want to see you

Emily: Come over

JJ: Ok

Emily: Ok

JJ: I might take a nap on your couch

Emily: I’ll put on some jazz ❤️

[arcadiabay]

PAGET BREWSTER as EMILY PRENTISS CRIMINAL MINDS: EVOLUTION — 19x10.

[emilys-bangs]

𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Fluff: * | Established relationship: ♡ | Hurt/comfort: ★ | angst: ʚɞ

˗ˏˋ Starring Eloise, Oliver, Diana ˎˊ˗

i. first hello's♡* -> E [0.9k]

ii. made for loving you♡* -> E [1.3k]

iii. slow mornings♡* -> E [1.5k]

iii. baby, it's cold outside♡* -> E [0.7k]

iv. this is me tryingʚɞ★♡* -> E [2.7k]

v. tearful goodbyes★♡* -> E [1.8k]

vi. of broken bones and hearts★♡* -> E [2.6k]

vii. kisses, kisses, kisses♡* -> E [1.3k]

viii. malleable♡* -> E [2.1k]

ix. second hello's♡* -> E, O [0.9k]

x. I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm★♡* -> E, O, D [1.5k]

xi. little life♡* -> E, O, D [1.7k]

xii. untitled blurb♡* -> E [0.1k]

xiii. cupid's schemes♡* -> E, O, D [1.4k]

xiv. courage, dear heartʚɞ★♡* -> E [1.8k]

xv. you're so golden♡* -> O [1k]

xvi. my baby, here on earthʚɞ★♡*-> D [1.5k]

xvii. she keeps on growingʚɞ★♡* -> E [1.2k]

Headcanons:

Grocery shopping with Emily as a family

Eloise standing up for Oliver

˗ˏˋ Starring Matthew ˎˊ˗

i. not a lot, just forever★ʚɞ* [2.2k]

˗ˏˋ Starring James and Theo ˎˊ˗

i. untitled blurb♡* [0.1k]

ii. Giving them a massage after a long day♡* [0.8k]

iii. You and Emily try to have a moment to yourselves♡* [1k]

iv. off-kilter♡* [2.1k]

v. juno♡* [1.3k]

˗ˏˋ Starring Vivian ˎˊ˗

i. Emily comes home to you and your daughter♡* [0.6k]

ii. you paint dreamscapes on the wall♡* [1.2k]

iii. untitled blurb♡*

˗ˏˋ General headcanons ˎˊ˗

Emily as a mom

Emily with her daughter’s shy friend

Emily and her older kid

How momily reacts to getting abducted

How Emily comforts her daughter during exam season

Emily’s daughter moving back in after college

How Emily reacts to her daughter getting her first period

How Emily reacts to her daughter saying she wants to join the FBI

Emily's daughter hears about Emily getting injured on a case

Emily's daughter wants a toy from a carnival game

˗ˏˋ Miscellaneous ˎˊ˗

Meet the Prentiss kids

Momily moodboards

Texts 1 | 2 | 3

[nessasgunholster]

she deserves to be a mom oh my god i’m gonna sob

[imdreabtw]

Emily Prentiss X younger fem reader headcanons

Note: A tough exam season is coming up, so I need to take my mind off things a little.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪From the very beginning of the relationship, Emily had insisted that you move into her apartment; she liked being able to have you close by the moment she returned from a case. Plus, you’d have much more space to spread out the absurd amount of study materials you used every day.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪Call it unethical, but Emily didn’t really care that you were a college student—you were the one who sought her out from the very beginning, and you were the sweetest, smartest person she’d ever been with.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪The only thing that got on her nerves was seeing you on edge. Even when she was lying in bed reading a novel with her kitten by her side, she’d glance over at the study in the shared room to see you on the verge of a breakdown from trying to remember everything.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪At the end of the day, you’re still careless when it comes to taking care of yourself, so she makes sure to look after you as much as she can—she brings you food and something other than coffee because you’re so focused that you forget to eat.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪If you’re feeling completely overwhelmed, thinking you’re going to ruin everything, and having an anxiety attack at the sight of yet another deadline, she’d simply pick you up in her arms and carry you to the bathtub to help you relax with a hot shower.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪She isn’t at all shy about treating you with affection, especially when you’re so in need of comfort and a little motivation; she’s the first to snuggle up, wrapping her arms tightly around you as she listens to you rant about how incompetent some teachers are.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪On exam days, she’ll move heaven and earth to make time to drive you there and pick you up once you’re done. A little reward never hurts, and it makes her happy to see your face go from exhausted to lit up with excitement when you see a little box with a pretty bow.

🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪Obviously, she needs to clear your head so you can forget all that anxiety you’re carrying around, so she simply pins you down on the bed with her favorite strap-on, making you forget all the negative thoughts gnawing at you—no more insecurity or fear, just the sensation of the silicone toy thrusting forcefully against the mattress.

[zarisdonut]

This is the greatest thing that has happened in the whole season. THEY LOOK SO GOOD

[nessasgunholster]

mommies.

[wlwoceaneyes]

Masterlist: The shape of almost

Summary: You come to spend a quiet weekend away from college with your best friend's family, expecting nothing more than familiar faces and easy conversation. Instead, you meet Emily Prentiss. Your best friend's godmother and BAU Unit Chief, composed, intelligent, and impossible not to notice. What starts as polite distance slowly shifts into something harder to define, especially when silence begins to feel louder than words. And by the time she leaves, you are left wondering whether you will ever see her again or why that question suddenly matters so much. tags: college!reader, fem!reader, emily prentiss unit chief, soft longing, age gap, late night thoughts, quiet tension, things left unsaid, unspoken connection

Part 1

Part 2 // Ask better questions

Part 3 // Sleepless nights

Part 4 // In a rush

Part 5 // College life

Part 6 // Shopping trip

Part 7 // Run ⚑

Part 8 // In your arms

Part 9 // I've got you

Part 10 // Something unspoken

Part 11 // Borrowed warmth

Part 12 // In case you need anything

⚑ canon-typical violence

[nessasgunholster]

i will devour this tonight.

[zarisdonut]

THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED

[nessasgunholster]

i’m so easy for them omg

[emilyprentissmylove]

selfies Emily’s gf gets from Penelope when Emily is at work :)

[nessasgunholster]

i love this sm awww

[venusarchivess]

cant argue with an older woman who’s even slightly authoritative, like yes ma’am, whatever you say beautiful

[prentisssmut]

your little secret series | emily prentiss x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

more coming soon :)

[nessasgunholster]

hehehe

[witchdose]

oh baby, it was never casual.

[nessasgunholster]

dont remind me about blackbird 😭

[witchdose]

a lesbian in the 2000s looked at jj and emily and said “i’m gonna start a rumor” then BANG, history was made.

[fuckthisshit-ugh]

please read this even if you're not indian. especially if you're not indian.

you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.

first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.

now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:

in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.

and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.

and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.

it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:

• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.

• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.

• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.

• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.

• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.

• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.

and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.

what i'm asking:

if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.

if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.

india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.

we can still save her. but only loudly.

reblog. share. don't scroll past.

[nessasgunholster]

reposting as a west indian myself .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ