#emily in paris locks

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ emily cooper wallpaper

reblog if you save ▪︎

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[spencerreiddddd]

Cabin Trouble

Content: slight angst, happy ending, cheating? Emotionally?

Gist: When the BAU team decides to plan a weekend trip you agree, until you realize everyone is taking their significant other. You on the other hand are the only single person on this trip, and in love with your best friend Spencer. What happens when Maeve attends and you have to pack away your feelings?

You wanted to kill yourself, how did you even get into this situation in the first place?

The team had always talked about asking for a weekend off and having a vacation all together and now it had finally happened. However you now sat in the back seat of Spencer’s car as he drove and Maeve sat shotgun. How did you end up in this position?

Well Hotch ended up making this a team plus your family trip in order to bring Hailey which in turn Rossi brought Krystall, JJ brought Will, Morgan brought Savannah, Spencer brought Maeve, your beloved Penelope brought Kevin. However unfortunately for you the only other single person on your team which is Emily had to go to Paris for a family emergency.

Leaving you distastefully the only person without a partner, and sitting in Spencer’s car as y’all drove 6 hours to a cabin everyone had rented out to spend a weekend away from civilization.

“Did you get much sleep?” Spencer asked breaking you out of your thoughts. You head snapped up to see Spencer looking at you through the rear view mirror. “I didn’t sleep much since you told me you’d pick me up at 3am” you responded yawning a little.

Spencer chuckled at you as he turned his attention back to the road, causing you to smile then feel extremely guilty. You had known and been best friends with Spencer since everyone started at the BAU, you had been friends for so long you eventually grew to love him. However you were a coward and never did anything about your feelings always pushing them down and your excuse was always “not wanting to ruin a perfectly amazing friendship” however when Spencer started seeing Maeve you pushed your feelings down further. The realization the Spencer didn’t see you the same way was the push you needed to lock them away in a box and encourage Spencer to go after Maeve.

Once they got together you distanced yourself from him little by little to be respectful to Maeve and him. You hated the idea of being “the girl best friend” but most of all you didn’t want to hurt yourself further.

You were originally going to drive your car but Spencer had been noticing your distancing and was always looking for ways to have your attention and favor thats why he practically forced you to let him drive you to the cabin. Something Maeve clearly didn’t like, well she really didn’t like you in general.

“Spence I gotta use the bathroom, do you think we can stop at a gas station?” Maeve’s voice sounded out through the car as she placed her hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Yeah of course.” He said as he searched up the nearest gas station on google maps.

When Spencer pulled into the gas station Maeve was the first one out as she practically ran to the bathroom, causing you to giggle and her cute run. You knew Maeve was pretty and you were happy Spencer found someone attractive to be with.

“She’s cute.” You said halfheartedly looking at Spencer as you stood outside with him as he pumped gas. He turned his attention toward Maeve’s running figure and back to you with a look in his eyes that you didn’t understand. “She is.” He said in a weird tone causing you to raise an eyebrow, but you stayed quiet.

You had been talking with Spencer as he had finished pumping gas and you realized how much you had missed talking to him like this 24/7 and listening to every thought that came into his head because he had no filter. So much so you didn’t realize Maeve came back and was holding a bag full of sweets. “I’m back and brought sweets.” She said linking her arms around Spencer’s and lifting the bag up in the air.

“Oh what did you get?” Spencer asked trying to look into the bag, you giggled remembering the sweet tooth Spencer had. “You shouldn’t have brought this much candy Mr. Hollywoods gonna have a sugar crash.” You said jokingly causing Spencer to laugh and try to defend his sweet addictions.

“Mr. Hollywood?” Was all Maeve said and she looked at you and Spencer confused.

“Oh it’s a nickname Y/N gave me after one of our beginning cases at the BAU, I had to protect this actor Lila, and it’s a long story.” Was all Spencer said as he opened the door for you to get in the car and then walked around to open Maeve’s so she could also get in.

“Oh okay.” Was all Maeve said as she opened the bag and handed you a Swedish fish candy bag. “I didn’t know what candy you liked so I got you this.” Maeve said flashing you a awkward smile. “Thank you so much.” You said feeling grateful she at least thought about you even when she didn’t need to bring you anything.

“Oh Y/N doesn’t like Swedish fish, she’ll throw up if she eats them.” Spencer said turning his body to take away the candy from you and in turn hand you his which was Sour patch kids…. Your favorite.

“Oh no Spence it’s alright, she didn’t know and I can eat them there’s no problem.” You hurriedly said feeling embarrassed for Maeve, as you tried to grab the candy back from him.

“It’s fine just have mine.” Spencer said gently pushing your hand back. You stayed quiet the air thickening in the car, but it seemed as if Spencer was the only one immune to it as he drove out the gas station as you had three hours left on the road.

It was 6am and the glare Maeve threw at you made you uncomfortable so you decided to sleep the remainder of the drive to avoid anymore awkward situations.

And sleep you did, you were woken up by Morgan violently shaking you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,Y/N.” He repeated like a toddler trying to wake their parents up in the morning. “Morgan I swear if you shake me one more time I’ll pour acid on your head and you’ll be bald forever.” You said snapping your head at him annoyed. “The princess has awoken.” Is all he said as he laughed at your threat, Savannah shoved him away and came up to you.

“Ignore this bald man he has no manners.” Savannah said as you unbuckled yourself and hopped out the car grabbing your luggage.

“I don’t know how you survive, I would be behind bars for his murder already.” You say smiling at Savannah and pulling her into a tight hug. “Trust me girl it’s hard.” She says as you both bring your luggage’s into the front of the two story cabin.

“You know I can hear you both bad mouthing me.” Was all Derek said as he placed his hands on his waist causing you and Sav to laugh.

Hotch was the last to arrive and the one with the key, it was around 3pm and everyone was sitting on the cabin porch talking.

“Finally your here!” Penelope said as Hotch walked up the steps to the porch and carried his and Hailey’s luggage.

“I apologize we ended up having to bring Jack along because he didn’t want to stay at his aunts, I hope you guys don’t mind.” He said as jack approached with Hailey.

“Absolutely not!” You were the first to say as you got up and practically ran up to Jack and picked him up in your arms as he laughed. You had known jack since hailey was pregnant and you had babysat him more times than you could count when Hotch and Hailey wanted a night out or in…. If you know what I mean.

“Y/N I missed you!” Jack said hugging your neck.

“I missed you more buddy!” You said closing your eyes as you swayed him around missing the way Spencer’s eyes were on you the entire interaction with Jack and the way he smiled.

“You won’t be the only single one here now.” Hailey said coming up to you and giggling as she placed a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t remind me.” You groaned and walked into the house as Hotch unlocked the door.

“There was a miscommunication with the AirB&B person and instead of 6 rooms there’s 5.” Hotch said looking at you.

Everyone’s eyes looking at you too now. “How wonderful.” You said sarcastically placing Jack back down on the floor. “ I can take the couch, it’s fine.” You said turning your attention to the wooden couches with pillow tied cushions. Great you were gonna have back problems and sleepless nights this weekend.

“Actually, there’s a pullout couch in Spencer’s and Maeve’s room if you’d like to use that one.” Hotch added causing Maeve’s head to snap up to look at you a look of disgust and horror flashed across her face. You didn’t blame her, all of the sudden the couch seemed way more comfortable than before. But before you could deny the offer Spencer grabbed your luggage and headed upstairs “That’s perfect that way you won’t have to stay downstairs all by yourself and on that uncomfortable couch.” He said as he reached the top of the stairs, everyone nodded and began walking upstairs to their assigned rooms as well.

Meave flashed you a glare as she walked upstairs to find Spencer, making you cringe. You absolutely hated the idea of how these next three nights were going to go.

So this was an idea that popped into my mind while I was day dreaming (as one does) but it turned into a longer story as I began writing. So I’m going to have to do a part two! Lemme know if y’all like it.😁

[anemoiashifts]

100 places to shift to.

♡ 100 places to shift to from tv & movie (some of these you could consider books too). organized into categories to the best of my ability.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

fantasy.

✦ harry potter.

✦ merlin.

✦ his dark materials.

✦ narnia.

✦ good omens.

✦ percy jackson.

apocalyptic.

✦ hunger games.

✦ divergent.

✦ the walking dead.

supernatural.

✦ sabrina the teenage witch.

✦ the chilling adventures of sabrina.

✦ stranger things.

✦ supernatural.

✦ lucifer.

✦ ghostbusters.

✦ buffy the vampire slayer.

✦ angel the series.

✦ teen wolf.

✦ wolf pack.

sci-fy.

✦ doctor who.

✦ star wars.

✦ star trek.

✦ roswell.

✦ avatar.

cartoon.

✦ barbie life in the dream house.

✦ gravity falls.

✦ amphibia.

✦ the owl house.

✦ hazbin hotel.

✦ monster high.

✦ ever after high.

✦ miraculous ladybug.

✦ phineas & ferb.

✦ rick & morty.

✦ my little pony.

✦ care bears.

✦ strawberry shortcake.

✦ adventure time.

✦ star vs the forces of evil.

✦ total drama island.

✦ scooby doo.

✦ bojack horseman.

✦ fairly odd parents.

anime.

✦ hunter x hunter.

✦ sailor moon.

✦ the legend of kora.

✦ saiki k.

✦ naruto.

✦ demon slayer.

✦ cowboy beebop.

✦ little witch academia.

✦ my hero academia.

✦ pokemon.

✦ death note.

crime / mystery.

✦ bones.

✦ criminal minds.

✦ only murders in the building.

✦ sherlock.

thriller / horror.

✦ american horror story.

✦ scream.

✦ scream queens.

✦ locke & key.

drama

✦ euphoria.

✦ shadow hunters.

✦ k12.

✦ the vampire diaries.

✦ the originals.

✦ twilight.

✦ never have i ever.

✦ h2o.

✦ wednesday.

✦ glee.

✦ gossip girl.

✦ pretty little liars.

✦ grey’s anatomy.

✦ skins.

✦ riverdale.

✦ once upon a time.

✦ emily in paris.

✦ victorious.

✦ the umbrella academy.

✦ mean girls.

✦ clueless.

✦ shameless.

✦ the guilded age.

✦ bridgeton.

✦ castle.

✦ law & order.

✦ my babysitters a vampire.

action

✦ maze runner.

✦ spiderverse.

✦ cobra kai.

✦ outer banks.

✦ jurassic park.

slice of life.

✦ gilmore girls.

✦ friends.

✦ that 70’s show.

✦ boy meets world.

✦ full house.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ whew this took forever to format & find shows considering im not a big tv / movie person at all. hope this helped a few people find some new dr’s !! bye bye :)

[chlmtsdoll]

hi hi ly and ur stuff was wondering if you can do like a little wedding like yk those pics of mike at that wedding with his older art haircut, maybe them at a friends wedding idkk ly <3

Omg ily yesss this is cute <3 I was just rewatching Breakfast at Tiffany’s anddd watching the new season of Emily in Paris so I felt inspired to do something classy and romantic 🤍 this is perfecttt

FRANCE WITH ART

౨ৎ 18 + | age gap, older/sugar daddy!Art, younger/sugar baby!reader, needy art, petite!reader, a little angst, fluff !

“Isn’t she just a beauty?” you sighed out dreamily as you directed your camera to the dazzling city beyond you, panning to the Eiffel Tower that was looking just poised as ever sitting beyond the sunrise. No drowsiness or jet lag was going to keep you from taking in every second you could of the beauty and scenery as long as you were waking up in Paris, France.

You’d been up bright and early but snug in your robe. Hidden away in your suite at the Ritz. The penthouse-like hotel room was Arts sweet gesture to go all out for your comfortability as you were accompanying him on this get away for one of his long time tennis co-workers colossal wedding. Being in this city has always been like a dream to you. Especially now that you got to explore it with the man you were no stranger to showing how much you adored. And he had you glued to him as often as possible too.

You and Art had arrived a few days earlier just to see all the wonders and sight out all the romance spiraling around every fountain and podium. Art planned out everything. Taking you to all sorts of historical eloquent museums, the most upscale restaurants with jazzy night life surrounding the two of you, catching the tower sparkle at midnight. You walked Pont Alexandre hand in hand with the strawberry-blonde and kissed above the waters of Puente Marie.

You didn’t know if it had been the aroma of the city, or Arts way of brainwashing you into staying in his world of poshness and high class wonders forever, but it was like something straight out of a movie. He truly made you feel like the princess of all romance and desire — You even got to be sweetness to his arm when he brought you to a few tennis matches the capital held. With he glamour of vip seats and rosé meeting your lips as Art clutched your thigh in a way that said mine as he peered the tournament.

It was something about everyone knowing who he was and wanting him right then. The paps, starstruck fans, his wealthy tennis friends, all wanting the attention of the enamored man — his smile with dimples showing contrast to his gorgeous features as he signed autographs and took photos with girls and even women much older than you. He was truly a magnet with an essence of adoration for his life post his ex wife and more wealth than ever, pilling on to his retirement. He didn’t have a worry in the world but his ever lasting fame and all the while you, his young, beautiful and spoiled beat, girlfriend that got to look too pretty and absolutely pampered by his side at all times. You just couldn’t wait till after the tournaments, when Art would be buried snug in your sweet tight cunt before you had even rushed to get your shoes off and the door locked properly. The way the pending man kissed every inch of your body, merging his own with you. Pulling your hair in wistful ways, rough in his knuckles but with the upmost love and care as he sweet talked you through his own pent up fixation of you. Heavy thrusts to your soft little body — and when you’d scream his name out at way too late (or early) you knew that he was going to shower you in jewels the next day.

He loved it. And he knew you absolutely loved it.

Your wildness only he could contain kept him feeling young, and he would do absolutely any and everything for that feeling of your girlish youthful smile to never stop making his heart swell.

“I woke up earlier than usual today. The wedding is at noon, so I just ordered room service and had the loveliest breakfast.. Art went out a bit before I got up and he should be back soon I’m sure. I should get ready, but god. I could just live in this suite to be honest.” Your giggle was breezy as you talked to your phone. You loved recording vlogs of all the beautiful places you got to see — and well, you could quite tell people enjoyed seeing what the girlfriend of a international tennis superstar was up on the daily. So that’s exactly what you gave them.

Your expensive and perfect little life.

You had been perched out on the balcony with your hand fluffed cappuccino as you gazed out at the filled streets and soft echo of jazz from down the way when you heard the muffled noise of your suite door being unlatched “Princess?” Art muttered softly as he noticed you weren’t still tucked away in bed. A grin took upon the man’s lips before he called out a little louder. “Where’s my girl?”

When you heard his voice, your smile had gone from dazed to stir in a quick shift as you got on your feet to exit from the window out look to find the tall man standing by the door with hands full of upscale shopping bags. There was no time for him store them before you were wrapping your own much shorter body around his torso. Art chuckled delightfully as he moved to embrace you back in his warmth.

“Mmm, where have you been? I missed you.” Your eyes met his gleaming ones, looking up that the man while he now cupped your cheek. His eyes half perched with colors of brown in his blue, your lips were already inching to lay a solid kiss on his fond simple staring back into your orbs with all adoration— so Art picked you up and kissed you just as sweetly before setting you down again.

“Well.. I supposed you’d still been asleep by the time I got back — I went for a little shopping stroll. Got some pretty things for you baby.. go sit.” the blonde bent to kiss at your neck with a sly smirk as he inched for one of the satin handled bags and your face lit up all over again.

You noticed one bag, a specially tinted turquoise blue and you almost lost all composure right then as Art brought it to you. He opened up a delicate box from Tiffany & Co. and your eyes fell dream like immediately. In his hands were the sparkling silver jewels you’d had your eye on for a good while now, you sunk your teeth into your lips as Art watched your pupils dialing with a grin of his own.

“I don’t care if it’s a wedding that’s not yours. I want you to be decked out tonight, baby. I want everyone to know how opulent you are, and that you belong to me.” Art smirked as he took your wrists in his palms to lock to bracelet around your skin that had a royal ‘A’ initial engraved in it. No matter how much Art gave and gave to you, you were always left speechless by his thoughtful expressions of love for you.

“Oh my.. Art, it’s beautiful- - and it reminds me that your mine,” you gleamed. “I love it.”

Your soft sigh of pleasure was light as your cheeks began to ache with your beaming smile. But the gentleman didn’t just stop there. He still was picking up more bags that followed and you noticed the Chanel logo immediately by the tag of course.

“That’s not all.” He tittered before slipping a gorgeously designed box from the bag, even larger, your jaw became quite loose as the case landed in your palms. You felt like a kid getting exposed to an entire candy store and Art watched you rummage, still with grace, through the box itself — elegantly wrapped in light paper as you breathed out excitedly till your finger tips graced over the soft pink flap beneath. You couldn’t stop your squeal from echoing across the room.

“Oh my god.. baby!” You were gagging on gasps as you pulled out the bag and your eyes ran over the gold chain along with your hands. Art chuckled as you squealed in pleasure and it affirmed that he certainly picked the right choice.

“We have a day left and I just couldn’t go back to the states without you getting one — and you already have the black and white so you needed just the perfect pink one, right sweetheart?” Art sat beside you on the king sized bed with a fond smile on his lips as he observed you. His dimples showcased perfectly and you couldn’t help but pout in admiration of the man beside you. You set the bag to lounge a hug on Art that made him laugh, grasping your soft robe to pull you into his lap with ease. Your arms were tight around him, but lips go in for a smooch that had Art leaning into your touch quick. His eyes slowly fell closed in bliss just at the sweetness that you were. Proud he got to spoil you time and time again — but the best part being as you never took a second of it for what it could be. Him just being a typical man, taking up a fathering role in your life to buy you pretty thinks all so you’d end up on your knees for him. No. He genuinely wanted to lift you up. And you just loved and adored him, and that’s what he always strived for in the long run.

“How did I ever get so lucky ?” Your voice laced with sweetness and sympathetic tones as you look up at Art with your fawning doe eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you.” You hid your smile under your bitten lip as your soft thumb graced over the man’s peachy ones and he just stared into you with all desire of your being.

“Course.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against your exposed neck in admiration before leaving a kiss there.

“Anything for you, love.”

You couldn’t have been more giddy as you finally made yourself get up from the alluring man’s lap, hand still in contact with his cheek.

“Now, I must show the vlog everything you got for me.” You implored with assertion, but nothing could drive away from your girlish giggle that escaped as you skipped for your phone to which Art leaned out of your way for you to grab with a soft chuckle. “Okay, you guys aren’t going to believe me when I show you what Art got me…” your stammering blush matched your excited high pitched tone, and Art had a wide and easy grin on his face — he loved watching your small figure pride around so bubbly just to talk to your phone. You really hadn’t had much else to do in your free time. There was no need to have your own career, certainly no grocery list, or even a worry for your future when at the forefront Art paid for literally every last necessity or just pure want that you needed.

All you were expected to do was be his pretty little thing — traveling around the world and occupying yourself only when he had been busy with tennis, so you had your vlogs. And you were more than happy with that as long as you got him.

Soon enough you were standing in the golden embroidered mirror of the deluxe French country styled bathroom, touching up your lipstick and hair. Your dress a soft silky pink to bring out your cherry colored lips. You tried your best truly not to move much to ruin the flow of your pin curls. You felt the most pretty and expressive you might ever had right now — and when Art Apr approached the door way of the room, he had to hold his breath for a moment just at the single sight of you. Unable to utter a word. He just viewed as he leaned there tall whist his button up just slightly undone, his chest being seen enough to make you peek at the blonde with a soft grin at his icy blues glancing over your own figure.

“What?” You titter softly as you acknowledge the man who now crossed his arms as his lips curved to show his nearly sparkling teeth,

“Nothing, you just look absolutely gorgeous is all.. I don’t know how you expect me to keep my composure all night in that, but it’s a special day, so I’ll allow it.” Art chuckled and you sighed into the marble counter top as you shook your head affectionately.

“Well, this is your work Mr. Donaldson. Everything I have on you got me.” You noted as you gave him a three-sixty of your heavenly body to which the man pulled his lip between his teeth not so subtlety.

“Mmm, your being mean.” Art groaned playfully as he leaned off the wall to grab your waist and pull you into him. Your face immediately got hot as you were pushed into his aroma, YSL cologne that you found all too sexy eluding off of him. “Your gonna be so adored tonight baby, maybe just as much as the bride herself.” The blonde inched into your ear with a rasps as he grasped your limbs in his hands gently and pressed you into his chest with flow. You nearly let his teasing pull you in — but you couldn’t fight the uproar of sudden thoughts in the back of your mind,

“I’m a little nervous for tonight.” You chuckled lightly. And Art kept his eyes beyond yours, with a slight furrow of his brow.

“How come ?”

“Well… I know a lot of your tennis friends are much older. With much older girlfriends.. and wives..” Your fingers went to toy coyly with Arts collar, and you glanced down while he already had been shaking his head as he noted your words. “They might- judge me. Because I’m much younger,”

“No. No, baby.. I know it’s a little different for you, versus me. You’ll always get the short end of the stick. I know.. but I promise no one’s gonna make you feel inadequate. At least not by me. And if you do get a look or two, fuck them. We’re in France. It’s a French wedding. We’re pretty on theme anyways.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his wit, he always knew how to get you out of any overthinking so quickly with his pure charm and sharp-wittedness. Your reaction made Art smile down at you as his eyes followed your pretty face.

“You’re right. Besides, they’ll all be looking at you anyways.”

“What ? Please,” Art groaned before he chuckled and raised your arm so he could spin you. “You’re breathtaking. You’re impossible to go unnoticed and you know it, sweets.” You giggled out as he spun back around to him and held you close with his admirable wealthy laugh filling the air.

“But.. really, you’re the expert, do you think I look okay? I think they cut my hair too short this season…” Art peered down at you blinking up at him through your lashes and you shook your head.

“No. It’s perfect, at least to me most importantly. You look so handsome.” You ran your fingers through the man’s shorter golden locks and he couldn’t help but feel a heat rising to his own at the way you observed him. Fingers fixing every last strand or detail on him, to then grazing his jawline. “Perfect, as always.” You grin.

Arts blue orbs hadn’t been able to pull away from the beauty that was you below him, you just looked absolutely otherworldly in that dress, all dolled up. He liked to tell himself it was all for him — if it weren’t for the wedding fever going around he’d certainly blame something in the air just noting him to lock you down quick. “God, you look so fucking good in that dress..” Art groaned with a huff before lifting you off your feet and meeting you with a kiss. You couldn’t help but half moan and half sigh into it after your soft gasp as the man swept you off your feet. His lips adorned yours, and you were so pushed by the way his hands leveraged your weight effortlessly to collide with him.

Smiling slyly between kisses you mutter “we only have an half an hour before the caravan picks us up, Art…”

he could of taken your breath away but you managed to get the words across even through Arts hungry kisses. (You’d have to touch up your lipstick, again. If not the rest of your attire soon after he’s been done with you.)

“Yeah ? I can work with that.” The tall blonde grinned as he carried you out into the bedroom and your giggled trailed not too far along behind you.

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[veeluvss]

I didn't give up on you in Paris

JJ didn't give up on JJ in Paris, here's what really happened the first night 1.8 k words

It was late at night; the wind blew a cold breeze through the open window. The glimmering Eiffel Tower shimmered in the distance, reflecting through the hotel room. It seemed empty, devoid of life or personality. A single photo hung on the wall, a sketch of the Arc de Triomphe, most likely the same picture hung in every room along the corridor. The single lamp by the side of the bed echoed a dim glow around the room. 

Emily sat on the edge of the bed, her hair, now a short bob, sat on her shoulders. She picked at her nails, her nervous habit. A sigh left her lips and she reached into the faux leather bag hanging off her shoulders. Slowly, she pulled out the envelope - passports to three different countries and bank accounts to keep her comfortable. She turned it over in her hands and peeled open the seal. She pulled out the passports: British, French and Russian. All three had different names native to their country but the same photo stared back at her. Emily Prentiss, the woman she truly was. Each bank card had the corresponding name to the country and passport. She felt the weight of the small card balancing between her fingers: ‘To keep you comfortable,’ JJ’s words echoed in her mind. She knew, until Doyle was arrested, she’d be far from comfortable, no matter how much money she had. But she knew JJ’s intent, she already missed her blonde best friend more than her old life. The soft eyes she gave as she walked away, her voice barely above a whisper from across the table. It made Emily’s heart ache. 

Around an hour after getting ready for bed, Emily still couldn’t sleep. She’d played endless games of scrabble, chess, solitaire and sudoku on her new phone to keep her mind off the recent traumas but every time she blinked or waited for the next round to load, her mind went straight back there. It wasn’t until there was a soft knock on the door that Emily left the room Derek found her in. Slowly, still recovering, she got out of bed and headed across the room. She could recognise the knock from anywhere, three soft taps, barely audible to the average person. She checked through the peephole, just in case. 

On the other side of the door, stood a wind-swept Jennifer Jareau. She looked up and down the corridor impatiently as Emily admired her. Her hair was still tied back and the purple scarf was still tied around her neck. In her ears were the earrings Emily bought her for Christmas the year before. She watched JJ check her watch and begin to walk away before she finally realised she should open the door. 

Quickly, not wanting her JJ to get away, she unclasped the latch and turned the handle. JJ, noticing the sound of the door, turned around. They made eye contact and both women let out a sigh of relief. “JJ,” Emily said, her voice small. “I cou- I couldn’t go,” JJ replied, stepping towards Emily. “Come in,” Emily said, making room for JJ to get past but JJ was hesitant. She wasn’t allowed to do this. Only herself, Hotch and the director knew she was here though, she could say her flight was delayed. “Em-” “Please,” Emily said. Her eyebrows turned down and her lip wobbled slightly but she blinked the tears away. JJ could only nod as she entered the hotel room. She set her bag on the chair by the empty desk and looked around the room. “This is bleak,” JJ said, her hands sliding into her pockets. “You’d think with all the FBI money they’d get me a better room at least,” Emily chuckled, after closing and locking the door securely. JJ cracked a smile and watched Emily come further into the room, she sat on the edge of the bed again and JJ slid into the chair.

They were silent for a few moments, Emily staring at the floor and JJ staring at Emily. “You don’t need to give me the sympathy look,” Emily said. JJ quickly cleared her throat, sat up straight and looked away, “I wasn’t.” “I know you,” Emily chuckled and pointed a finger at JJ. “Okay maybe I was, but I just worry.” “Well don’t, I’m fine,” Emily sighed and let her shoulders slump. “It’s okay to not be fine, you’ve been through a lot,” JJ said. “Don’t-” Emily said, waving her arm. “I’ll be fine.” 

JJ sighed and nodded, she knew she’d get nowhere with Emily now. She knew Emily would be fine but she also knew she couldn‘t just turn off her worrying. Emily sighed too and stretched out her hand to JJ, she stood up and pulled JJ to her feet. The women stood, toe to toe together and the room seemed so much smaller. Emily raised her hands and JJ caught her breath. Gently, Emily untied the scarf around JJ’s neck, letting the silk fabric slide through her fingers and off JJ’s neck. JJ locked eyes with Emily as her fingers travelled down to JJ’s black coat buttons. Emily didn’t need to look as she undid them. She guided the coat off JJ’s shoulders and her arms came out. JJ raised her arms and cupped Emily’s cheeks. She caressed under her eyes, the formed bruise and leaned closer. She kissed it. Her lips lingered, grazing the sore skin and Emily moved her head. Their lips hovered over one another. Their eyes wouldn’t leave each other. 

When they kissed, it was like a thousand butterflies were released in both of their stomachs. It felt right, it felt like nothing either of them had felt before. Emily’s lips worked in time with JJ’s, their heads empty except for lust and love. They pulled away, both needing air and an uncontrollable smile spread across Emily’s mouth as she took in the sight of JJ - her sea-blue eyes, her naturally contoured cheeks, her long, soft blonde hair, everything about her was perfect. JJ looked between Emily’s lips and her chocolate eyes, unable to control her fear. “I-” JJ mumbled, going to pull away but Emily grabbed her hands, keeping her close. “Emily, we can’t- you’re injured you’re not in the right mind - I-” “You loved it,” Emily replied. JJ went to shake her head no but ended up nodding, lowering her eyes. Emily lifted her chin with two fingers and took JJ’s lips back onto hers. This time there was more passion, more force and JJ kissed back with just as much. Emily lifted her hand and wrapped it around the back of the blonde’s hair, holding her head there, working in time together. JJ grabbed Emily’s waist, holding gently to keep herself steady. The lust made her legs weak. 

They stumbled together over to the bed and Emily turned them around, they kissed continually. Emily pulled away quickly and JJ fell backwards onto the bed. She let out a gasp as she saw what was going to happen. Emily lifted one leg to straddle her but JJ sat up, suddenly. “Emily-” she whispered. “It’s okay,” Emily replied, holding JJ’s face in her palm. “You’re hurt,” JJ said, her eyes travelling to where Emily was stabbed. “No, JJ,” Emily said and moved up the bed, she straddled JJ’s lap and the blonde held her waist for support. She just wanted her close. JJ wrapped her arms around her girl, holding her close and Emily sat on her thighs, one leg on each side of her. “JJ, I just want to forget,” Emily whispered, her voice weak. “Emily, I want you to be better, but we can’t do this.” “We can JJ, you make me better. This- this touch, god it makes me better,” Emily said, her voice breaking. “It does?” JJ asked, genuinely unable to believe she even helped Emily. “It does. My sunshine,” Emily said. She looked down and cupped JJ’s cheeks, letting her look up to her. She couldn’t help but smile. JJ felt butterflies in her stomach from the nickname, the one she only let Emily call her. “Don’t give up on me, please.” 

“I won’t. I won’t give up on you,” JJ replied and lifted more to kiss Emily once again. 

The pair lay under the white duvet cover, fighting the fresh breeze coming in with the morning sun. They stayed up all night, making love, kissing, talking, and sharing the world; sharing the quiet. Together, it was peaceful, it was soft and empty. The world felt powerful when it was just the two of them, they felt stronger together. And the fact no one knew made it even more perfect. But both of them knew it wouldn’t last. JJ was due at the airport for her flight home to DC and Emily had a new life to create, one without JJ in it. The blonde rolled from her back to the side, facing the brunette who lay peacefully sleeping beside her. She sighed and traced her knuckle down Emily’s cheek. It was smooth, so smooth and comforting, like a baby’s blanket. JJ desperately wanted to stay. She wanted to live this secret life with her girl, the one who loved her so perfectly but she knew she had to go home. Home to her husband, her team and her little boy. Her hand stroked her stomach, she had to go home to bring the little girl into the world too. The one that was only hers for now. 

As carefully as she could, she snuck out of bed and into the ensuite bathroom. She took her morning wee but didn’t flush in case it woke Emily up and then got dressed. She brushed her teeth with her finger and Emily’s toothpaste before heading into the room. Emily lay motionless in bed, except for the soft breaths that JJ saw move the covers lying over her. She slid on her shoes, her jacket and scarf cupped over her arm. She grabbed the pen and paper on the side and wrote out four words, I won’t forget you. She slid out the door, sliding the key back under the door once she’d locked it. Walking down the corridor, the night flashed through her mind like old film tapes - a distant memory now. She headed down the stairs and out the foyer, calling a cab. 

Emily stood in her third-floor window staring down at the blonde. She was woken by the door shutting but knew she couldn’t chase. She knew she’d had her time. She held the paper in her hand and ran her fingers over the pen, feeling the indent of the ink. Then she watched her baby disappear into the black taxi and drive off into the new day. 

[miraculouswolf99]

Hello. I don't know if this has been discussed before but I'm really curious.

Marinette detransforming in front of Gabriel in their final battle to try to give him another chance was a stupid decision, but would it have made more sense if it was Adrien instead?

Like, in the hypothetical scenario where Adrien has to fight Monarch by himself, find out he's been his father the whole time and that he's done all these horrible things to bring Emilie back to life, would it have made sense that he would try to convince him to give up and detransform in front of him? Kinda similar to what happened in the movie, but it plays out differently because Gabriel is irredeemable in the show for me, so he might try to manipulate Adrien now that he knows he has the Miraculous that he needs and take it from him like he did with Marinette.

Would Adrien still try to hold onto the hope that his father can still be salvageable and they can be a family again? Or would Adrien forget any sympathy he has left for his father now that he's aware he's an abuser and a terrorist... I personally think the latter would have been a better ending.

But what do you think?

I was definitely upset over how Adrien was basically forgotten during the finale in order to give Marinette the spotlight. They are supposed to be partners, but Marinette/Ladybug has always had the bigger spotlight. Adrien deserved to be there and to know that his father had been Hawkmoth/Shadow Moth/Monarch.

Having Adrien be the one to face Monarch in the end would have made for a much more emotional and impactful season finale. Like, in the scenario, when Adrien would see that it was the Alliance Rings turning everyone into the Miraculized villains, that would allow him to figure out that his father was involved. So, he would go back to Paris to confront the one person he knew who would tell him. Natalie. So, he would have been there instead of Marinette to hear Natalie's confession and be there for when she would die. That would be how he would learn the truth about his father.

Then, during their fight, Adrien would Cataclysm the floor to throw off his father because of the drastic move. That would be when they would end up in the secret underground lair/garden. Which would be when Adrien would see his mother and learn the original reason why his father had become Hawkmoth.

At first, Adrien would feel sympathy and hope. After all, he clearly loved his mother very much. But, at the same time, he also had moved on. He had told his father it would be okay if he and Natalie got together. To Adrien, there would be a difference between him and his father since one of them moved on and the other became obsessed. Plus, I can also imagine if his father were to say something like "I did everything for her. For your mother" that would make Adrien snap. Especially since Natalie would have shown Adrien his mother's video will.

He would say something to his father like "Everything for mother? You're delusional! There is nothing you have done that mother would have wanted! Natalie showed me mother's video! She didn't want anything done to bring her back! She wanted you to move on! She wanted to be remembered, not brought back! What you have done has nothing to do with mother! Would mother have wanted you to turn a literal baby into a giant? Would mother have wanted you to use a heartbroken girl's feelings to flood Paris? Would mother have wanted you to create a weather girl who nearly blasted the entire planet out of its orbit? Would mother have wanted you to become a terrorist?"

Gabriel would try and answer, but Adrien would keep going. "No! The answer is 'no' to each and every single one of those questions! Mother would not have wanted any of that! And to top it off, mother would have never, EVER, tried to force me into an arranged marriage! She would have let me live my life the way I wanted! Let me love who I wanted! And she NEVER would have locked me away, turning me into a prisoner, just because I wanted to have a life of my own! You chose to do all of that! It had nothing to do with mother! You CHOSE to become the... the... the MONSTER you are now!"

Adrien had taken a lot from his father. The years of isolation with only Chloe as a friend. The forced modeling. The endless extra lessons. The forced fencing practices. The extremely strict schedule. So many things. But, it had been trying to force him into a relationship he didn't want, not allowing him even the choice of who to love, that would be what would have broken Adrien.

Adrien never would have de-transformed in front of Gabriel. He would have won the battle and taken back the miraculous with no wish being made. Gabriel had done too much to him for Adrien to feel any type of sympathy toward him.

Adrien would likely have disowned his father if he had been there for the final battle.

[sequinsmile-x]

Amore

It's Valentine's Day and Emily just wants to spend it with her boyfriend, but she's got two problems:

No one knows she and Aaron are together,

Penelope is insistent on setting her up on a date.

-x-

Hi friends,

Everyone loved the idea of this when I suggested it the other day, so I hope you like how this turned out!

Please let me know what you think <3

Happy Valentine's Day!

-x- Words: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles as Aaron opens the door to his hotel room and stands back just enough to let her in, his eyes sweeping the hallway to make sure none of the team is nearby. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says as she walks into the room and he closes the door behind her. She immediately wraps her arms around him and kisses him, her hand on his cheek to keep him in place. He smiles into it and presses his forehead against her as they pull away from each other, “If we hadn’t spent all day together I’d ask if you missed me.” 

She kisses him again before she walks over to the bed, slipping her shoes off before she climbs in, “I did miss you,” she says, yawning as he climbs into bed with her, “I had to spend all day pretending I’m not madly in love with you in front of our friends.” 

He laughs and kisses her forehead, “I missed you too,” he wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her close, “Today was a long day.” 

She hums in agreement and rests her head against him, her forehead against his neck, “Such a long day,” she grumbles, kissing his throat, “But hopefully we’ll get it all wrapped up tomorrow and make it back in time for Valentine’s Day.” 

It was their first Valentine’s Day together. She’d never been one to buy into the holiday, but she was looking forward to it this year. She’d bought him a new watch and spent longer than she’d care to admit picking out a card, walking the aisles in the store until she found one that came close to explaining how she felt about him. She knew he’d bought her something too, he wasn’t good at hiding presents, something she’d discovered when she spent Christmas with him and Jack, so she’d spotted the blue Tiffany bag in his sock drawer just before they left DC for the case they were on. 

She wanted to spend the day celebrating their love for each other, she wanted to bask in the fact she was finally in a relationship that made her want to take part in things she would have once scoffed at. She often joked Aaron had ruined her, that he’d turned her into a sappy, love-sick, thing, but she actually thinks their relationship had been the making of her. It had helped her find herself again when she got home from Paris, had helped her build up the new version of herself from the rubble of what she’d left behind. 

Aaron loved her no matter what, and she loved him the same way. 

“We’ll celebrate whether we get home on time or not,” he promises her, kissing her forehead and she nods. Her phone chimes and she pulls it out of the pocket of her sweatpants and reads the text she’s received. Emily rolls her eyes as she tilts the phone so he can read it too. It was from a number she didn’t have saved, and as he reads it he feels jealousy thrum in his veins. 

Hi, this is Mark - Penelope gave me your number. She said you’d be up for getting together for a drink sometime. Call me!

“She’s giving your number out to people now?” 

She hums as she locks her phone and places it down on the bed, “Well, I never went on any of the blind dates she tried to set me up on so I guess this is the next step,” she scrunches her nose up as she looks up at him, “I didn’t know she had this many single friends though so I’m worried she’s moved on to random guys she meets in bars.” 

For months Penelope had been trying to set her up, taking neither Emily’s hints nor her insistence that she didn’t need any help very seriously. She kept saying she just wanted to see Emily happy, something she didn’t know she already was, and she was determined to make it happen. Her efforts had increased since January had ticked over into February, the long drawn-out weeks of the first month of the year giving way to the month of love, seemingly convincing Penelope that Emily needed a partner more than ever. 

If only she knew Emily already had one. 

Emily and Aaron had both decided to keep their relationship secret. At first, it had just been practical. They wanted to navigate the shift from friends to more without the pressure of outside opinion, without feeling like their every move was being watched. Like it was being carefully observed. They’d both been through so much that wanted to protect themselves, protect this, something precious that they both deserved. It’s how they’d made it 6 months down the line without no one else other than Jack and Jessica knowing about them. 

“Not sure how I feel about random guys texting my girlfriend,” he grumbles and she chuckles, biting her lower lip as she shifts on the bed. She turns towards him and hooks one of her legs over his lap, smiling as she settles onto him, both of his hands automatically seeking out her hips. 

“Oh honey,” she says, shifting closer on his lap, hooking her arms around his neck, her fingers trailing the short hair on the back of his head, “Are you jealous?” 

“Yes,” he answers honestly, tightening his grip on her, raising his eyebrow when her smile only widens, “But before you make too much fun of me, I think we both know you wouldn’t be any better if this was the other way around.” 

She stamps a kiss against his lips, “True,” she says, kissing him again, “But I promise you have nothing to worry about,” she rubs her nose against his, “I’m all yours,” she kisses up his jaw, “No matter what.” 

He feels pride flare in his chest, warming him from the inside out as he moves his hands from her hips to her lower back, pushing her closer to him so their chests press together, “All mine.” 

She hums and kisses him, “We’ll figure out how to tell them all once we’re home and Valentine’s Day is out of the way, okay?” She says, her and on his jaw as they pull back, “I just want to enjoy it without everyone…sticking their nose in. Or without Pen asking intrusive questions about our sex life.” 

He pulls back, his eyes wide in alarm, “She’ll do that?” 

She chuckles and presses his forehead against hers, “If you think her trying to get involved in my love life stops the moment she finds out we’re together you’re kidding yourself, baby.” 

His response is cut off as she leans in and kisses him again and rolls her hips against his, any thought other than her wiped from his brain as he gets lost in her. 

___

Penelope, somehow, convinces them all to go out for a drink after they get home. 

Emily was hesitant to, her eyes fixed on her watch as the time clicked closer to midnight and therefore Valentine’s Day. The rest of the team had immediately agreed, meaning that her and Aaron’s protests would only stand out and seem suspicious. 

She sighs as she takes a sip of her beer and looks over at Aaron, who was standing with Dave and Derek, and she smiles softly when their eyes briefly meet and he winks at her, his own smile hidden by his drink. She sees the promise in it, the love that they were yet to share with anyone else. She was excited to move forward, to let their friends in, but she would miss the secrecy. Not just for the privacy it gave them, but because she loved sneaking around with him, the edge it gave when she snuck to his room when they were on a case. 

Right now she struggled to see the merit in it. She wanted to kiss him, to taste the beer from his lips instead of from the bottle she was holding. 

“You okay, Em?” JJ asks, dragging her attention back to her, “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m okay,” she replies, smiling at her friend, “It was a long case, that’s all,” she looks towards the bar and her smile slips from her face when she sees Penelope talking with a man at the bar, her smile wide as she pointed towards the group, smiling and waving when she catches Emily’s eye, “Oh god she’s doing it again isn’t she?”

JJ smiles at her, a flash of something Emily can’t quite place in her eyes before she answers, “You could just tell her no.” 

Emily raises an eyebrow at JJ, “You seriously think I haven’t tried that?” She asks incredulously, “You have met Pen right?”

JJ nods, “That’s true, she doesn’t really take no for an answer.” 

Emily chuckles and shakes her head, “No she does not,” she groans as Penelope walks towards them, the man from the bar just a few paces behind, “Here we go.” 

“Emily,” Penelope says enthusiastically as she walks over, “This is Richard, we just got talking at the bar,” she says, pulling Richard closer, making sure he was standing closer to Emily, “Richard, this is my friend Emily who I was telling you about.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, offering out his hand to her which she shakes, her smile tight as he squeezes her hand and lingers a little too long. 

She can feel Aaorn’s gaze burning into the side of her face and she looks over at him briefly. She can see the tension in his jaw from where she’s standing, the way he’s gripping his beer bottle a little tighter than he was before. She feels her cheeks get warm as she looks back at Richard, Aaron’s obvious jealousy making her stomach flip for a moment. Usually, she thinks she’d purposely try and make him a little more jealous than he already was, let this guy in front of her flirt with her for a few minutes until she turned him down, but she didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire with Penelope. 

It’s not like she needed any more encouragement. 

“We’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Penelope says, linking her arm through JJ’s and leading her away, purposely ignoring Emily’s glare. 

Emily shakes her head as she’s left alone with Richard and she smiles politely at him, blowing out a slow breath, “Look, I don’t know what Pen told you but-”

“You’re with the suit,” he says, cutting her off with a smile. Her eyes widen quickly and she double-checks to make sure no one from the team heard him. She chuckles dryly and turns back to look at him. 

“You…how did you guess that?” 

Richard shrugs, “If looks could kill, I’d have been dead the moment I walked over.” 

She nods and presses her lips together, “Yeah, he…has that effect on people,” she says affectionately, Aaron’s supposed grumpiness one of her favourite things about him. It was a mask, something he used to protect himself, and it made the soft side that he reserved for her and Jack all the more precious, “I am sorry though.”

“Don’t be,” Richard says genuinely, reaching out and squeezing her arm for a second before he stops and steps away, “It was nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” she says, watching him go. She’s only alone for a second before Penelope walks back over, outrage painted all over her face. 

“You turned him down that fast,” she says, scoffing at her, “I keep finding all these lovely guys for you and you keep turning them down, or not responding to their messages.” 

She raises her eyebrow at her friend, “Yeah, we’ve got to talk about you handing out my number to random people.” 

Penelope’s eyes go slightly wide, “Matt is not a random person-”

“His name was Mark,” Emily corrects, her eyebrow still raised and Penelope clears her throat, nodding as she avoids eye contact.

“Okay, yeah that was my bad,” Penelope says, huffing out a breath, “I just want you to be happy, Em.” 

“I am happy,” she exclaims, catching the attention of the others, all of them tuning into the conversation. 

“I mean happy with someone.” 

Later, Emily wouldn’t be able to figure out what made her do it. Whether it was the two beers she’d had and the slight buzz they’d given her, or Aaron’s gaze burning into her side. Mostly, she thinks it’s irritation aimed towards her friend, the well meaning meddling finally pushing her over the edge. 

“I am happy with someone,” she says, placing her beer down on the high table near them and closing the gap between her and Aaron, crossing the distance in just a few paces, before she kisses him, her lips firm against his. She doesn’t think about it for a moment, doesn’t consider her audience, too caught up in the feeling of Aaron pressed against her, in the way he grips her hip. 

Then her brain catches up with the rest of her. 

She pulls back and looks at him, her eyes almost as wide as his as they meet, and she curses under her breath when she realises what she’s done. He squeezes her hip again, reassurance she needs in the touch as he lets her know he isn’t mad at her, and that, as he always was, he was there for her. She turns at looks at their friends, ready to have a conversation she’d been putting off for months, but instead of shock written across their faces, they all look smug. 

Especially Penelope. 

“I told you I’d get her to admit it.” Penelope exclaims, hitting Derek in the shoulder as she looks at her watch, “And it is 11.50 pm so it is still technically before Valentine’s Day which was my deadline. So pay up.” 

“Damn it,” Dave says, rooting through his pockets for his wallet. 

Emily chokes on a laugh and looks back and forth between Aaron and the team, finally finding her voice as they all grumble and start pulling money out of their wallets to pass to their exuberant friend.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” She asks, frowning as the rest of them chuckle. 

“We all knew you guys were together,” JJ says, handing her money to Penelope, “We got bored of waiting for you to tell us so Pen said she’d get it out of you.” 

Aaron tightens his hold on Emily, his arm around her as he pulls her towards him, her back against his chest, “How long have you known?” 

Derek turns to Spencer, who had so far been standing quietly in the corner, “Reid, when did you see them making out?” 

“Oh god.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Emily and Aaron speak in unison, both of them looking down at the floor in embarrassment, and Spencer stutters for a moment, choking on his words. 

“I never said made out,” he says, speaking quickly before he sighs. Emily and Aaron both look up at him, and they take some comfort in the fact he looked just as uncomfortable as they felt, “I saw you guys kissing in one of the hotels we stayed in 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days ago.” 

Emily groans and turns her head to look at her boyfriend, “We didn’t make it a week without them finding out.” 

He smiles sympathetically at her and kisses her temple, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope exclaims, pulling everyone's attention back towards her, “You guys are even cuter than I imagined.

Emily sighs and feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten, his discomfort clear, “Are we done here?” Aaron asks, doing his best to intimidate them. 

“Oh not by a longshot,” Dave says, a smirk spreading across his face that makes Emily roll her eyes as he passes them fresh drinks.

“Shut the fuck up, Dave.” 

___

He smiles as she sits down on the couch next to him, groaning as she rests her head on his shoulder. He kisses her forehead as he wraps an arm around her, always desperate to have her as close to him as possible. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

She nods and tilts her head up to look at him. She pushes her fingers through his hair, smiling softly as it flops back onto his forehead, “I’m okay. A little embarrassed they apparently knew all along, but I’m okay.” 

“I think it’s nice they were giving us a chance to tell them ourselves,” Aaron says, smiling at her, “Although I do wish Garcia’s technique to get us to admit it didn’t include trying to set you up with people.” 

She chuckles and rests her forehead against his, “Like I said, honey, you’re the only one for me.” 

He stamps his lips against hers, “You’re the only one for me too,” he kisses her again before he pulls back, his eye briefly lingering on the clock on his living room wall, and his smile gets wider when he sees it’s close to 2 am, “I forgot to say because of all of the intense questioning, but Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

She cups his cheek and pulls him in, tasting the scotch Dave had bought him on his tongue before she pulls back just enough to speak, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

His response is to kiss her, to take his time to get lost in it, in her. When he eventually pulls away she’s breathless, her eyes slightly bleary and he strokes his thumb back and forth over her cheek, “We should go to bed.” 

She hums and nods, “We should,” she says, biting her lip as she looks at him, “But not to sleep, right?” 

He laughs, the sound making her fall impossibly more in love with him, the joy so loud she thinks it might wake his neighbours. He stands up quickly, tugging her with him, his grip on her so tight when he pulls her into his embrace that her feet leave the floor, her toes scraping the carpet where his life had once almost ended, and where it now felt like it was only just beginning. 

“No sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff, thick with emotion and want, “Definitely not to sleep.” 

-x-

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[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 13

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, usual CM style violence/storylines talked about. A very minimal bit of dialogue taken from an episode. One more chapter to go besties!

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t totally on edge for the next two days, picking at your nails whenever you found yourself distracted, lost in thought as you wondered what exactly was going on across the Atlantic. You did your best to keep occupied with cleaning and packing up the apartment, getting ready for your own move while making sure things were looking like they did the first night you set foot in the building. 

You were on the balcony watching the darkening sky, a leftover cigarette between your lips when your phone finally buzzed, and you were quick to pick it up.

‘He’s dead. Declan’s safe. Team’s not off scot free though, there’s gonna be this whole hearing bullshit.’

‘Good luck.’

It felt weird moving to London, not because of the change of scenery or language, but simply because you were back on your own. You’d found your own apartment this time, but it still felt strange to be alone in it, to not have the warm light pooling from Emily’s room when you got home late at night. To not wake up to the smell of fresh coffee being brewed or find her on the couch up in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. You’d become so accustomed to having another person around all the time that being solo felt almost wrong.

Your phone buzzed less than a week into your time there, a number with a 202-area code.

‘Hey, it’s Em. Figured I should pass along the new number, unless you’ve already changed yours.’

Your lips curved up into a soft smile when you read the text, putting down your wine glass so you could reply.

‘I’ve had an international plan since DWB’s. I assume this means that trial thing went well? You’re staying in DC?’

‘Ha. As good as it could, but we proved everything we did was for the right reasons. And yeah… it just feels like the right place to be. How’s London?’

‘Dreary. I forgot how much rain we get this time of year.’

Emily let out a small huff of a laugh, she was about to type up another reply when Derek’s voice broke through her bubble.

“Who’re you texting with that smile?” He asked with a wicked grin, and she immediately locked her phone, rolling her eyes.

“A friend.”

“Yeah right.” He laughed, “girl, you’ve been back less than a month and you’re already playing the field? Sin to win never dies, does it?”

“Looks like we have that in common.” She shot back with a smirk and an appalled look took over Derek’s features.

**

Emily knew things were going to be different, that they were going to feel strange and after her original reunion with the team, she knew it was likely she was going to feel a bit like an outsider in a place she once felt like family. Part of her had expected to slip right back into where she was, that her role would be the same, that life would pick up exactly where it left off when she left. She’d been so separated that Paris was starting to feel like a fever dream and she nearly forgot that while she’d been recovering and recuperating, life had gone on for the rest of the BAU team, they had kept moving while she was standing still.

She was incredibly thankful JJ had managed to pull some strings and keep her apartment, even if it had been sublet in the meantime, she still got to come home to something familiar and didn’t have to start from nothing for personal belongings. And while the place had been her home for so long, even with Sergio back, there was something missing, an emptiness that hung heavily in the air. She knew it couldn’t help that there was a lingering thought in the back of her head that Ian knew where this apartment was, even if he was six feet under. She missed the companionship that had come with Paris, suddenly having to do it all on her own was annoying, at least she wasn’t home as much as she had been while recovering. 

‘Do things feel weird in London, or is it just DC and the whole coming back from the dead thing that’s throwing everything off?’

A small laugh broke through your lips as you picked up your coffee mug to take another sip.

‘I’m sure that has something to do with it. Why are you awake? Isn’t it the middle of the night over there?’

Emily sheepishly glanced to the clock on the nightstand, realizing just how late it really was and she let out a sigh, nestling deeper into the wall of pillows.

‘Couldn’t sleep. I’ve been weaning off most of the meds, plus my mind won’t stop. What time is it there?’

‘Just past seven, coffee time. You wanna call? Talk through it?’

‘Nah. If I call, I’m sure someone will wake up and start screaming cause he thinks its breakfast time.’

‘Uh.. what?’

‘Sergio.’

‘Are you telling me you’ve been back less than two months and you’ve already rescued another child in need or did you rename the other kid?’

Emily couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth to keep quiet. There was no doubt you hadn’t woken up that long ago, the caffeine not quiet hitting your brain stream yet.

‘Sergio’s the cat.’

‘Oh! Right. I’m surprised Penelope gave him up.’

‘Well she has custody on weekends and whenever a case takes me out of town longer than a couple of days.’

‘Oof. Co-parenting, hope that doesn’t get messy.’

She found herself quietly chuckling again, a sense of comfort and calm flowing through her as her body began to relax further into the bed.

‘Only when one of us buys fancier treats.’

‘Good. And for what its worth things are a little off here, but I mean, it’s starting a new life for me, it’s just like riding a bike, I’ll get the rhythm back soon. You went back to something old, but that something has changed completely for everyone involved too. I’m sure constantly jetting around the country doesn’t help your sense of stability either.’

‘Last time I checked you weren’t a shrink.’

‘I’ve been sitting in to a few lectures here and there.’ You replied with a grin, practically able to hear her deadpan through the words on the screen.

‘Any suggestions?’

‘Don’t try to force things too quickly, know that it’s going to take some time for things to feel normal again. As important as it is for you to try to repair the relationships you had, you might want to start looking to make new friends, sprinkle in a bit of freshness to an old lifestyle. Change up your routine, hit up different grocery stores, get your coffee from somewhere new, change your commute, things like that.’

‘Already swapped coffee shops. Pretty sure I terrified the poor girl working the counter the first time I walked back in. Felt too bad to go back.’

‘Well that’s a start, lol. And… if you think you’re gonna stay in DC, that you want to belong there, think about putting down some roots, reasons for you to make it your forever home.’

‘Good thought’

The clock chimed beside you and you glanced up from your phone, letting out a soft sigh,

‘I’ve gotta run, but feel free to text anytime.’

‘Go save some lives. I’ll be fine.’  She signed it off with a smiley face, finally dropping her phone onto the nightstand as she curled around herself, pulling the blankets around her. For the first time since being back she was asleep within minutes.

**

Your phone began to buzz on the kitchen counter, you glanced toward it at first, thinking it was just a text, but when it nearly vibrated off the edge you realized it was a call, and from Emily, nonetheless.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey,” she replied, her voice somewhat strained and your brow furrowed, “what was that whole thing about the spleen? Like, when it comes to getting sick or recovery, that part.”

“Should I be concerned about the sirens in the background?”

“I’m a fed, sirens are a pretty regular occurrence.”

“Yeah?” You raised a brow, leaning against the counter, “what about that out of control beeping from the heart rate monitor?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, just ow!”

“Emily...” you warned.

“It’s nothing.” She protested before a louder male voice shouted from the background.

“She got shot!”

“Jesus christ.” You muttered, “you’ve been back less than six months and you’ve already gotten yourself shot? What are you, a walking liability?”

The replies came instantaneously from Emily and Derek respectively, “no!” “YES!”

“I’m gonna be fine!”

“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? Aren’t you supposed to have vests for these kinda things?”

“I was wearing it! I took the hit to the upper shoulder and this lovely EMT says I’m going to be fine. I just can’t remember what you said about the spleen thing.”

Biting your lip, you let out a sigh, “If you get sick or injured it can and will take longer to heal, recovery’s a bitch, you know that.”

“Uh.. Agent Prentiss?” Another voice cut in and you assumed it was one of the EMT’s, “why can’t we find any medical history past March of last year?”

“That would be the other reason I’m calling.” Emily winced and you chuckled.

“I have your full history listed under Valerie Stewart, I’ll send it over, what hospital?” The EMT rattled off the location that you were quick to scribble down onto a scrap of paper, “I know this isn’t ideal timing, but have you gone to that shrink I set you up with?”

“Yes.” She half grumbled back before you heard another outburst from her co agent.

“She went to one mandatory appointment.” 

“Morgan!”

“Ask her about how great her boyfriend Sergio is.”

“Last time I checked, Sergio was the cat.” You replied and Emily groaned, rolling her eyes, “Em, you really need to go a couple of times, especially now.”

“Why does this change things?”

“It’s your first time back in a hospital as a patient since Paris, it’s bound to bring up some stuff.”

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“Thank you.” You pushed off from the counter, “I’ll send your file over, call me when you’re all bandaged up.”

“Yeah.” She replied and you could hear the exhaustion in her voice before the line clicked.

Much later that night your phone buzzed with a text, a picture of Emily back on the jet with her arm in a sling. As tired as she looked, at least she was safe and, on a quick path to recovery from this one.

**

‘Come on, that house is gorgeous!’ 

You shook your head at Emily’s hesitancy through your text chain. She’d spent the last couple of weeks sending you housing listings, asking your opinions and thoughts on just about everything and she found some kind of flaw in every single one of them.

‘There’s cracks in the foundation.’

‘So? Cracks can be fixed.’

‘No, they can be hidden. They’re still there.’

‘It passed inspection. You’re acting like you’re afraid the place is gonna fall down.’

‘I’m afraid it’s never gone be as strong as it was.’

You paused, a frown taking over your face as you read back the last piece of your conversation, you practically felt your shoulders sagging as you dropped into the couch. You wished there was more that you could do for her right now, but you knew being a world away meant this was it.

‘I have a feeling we’re not talking about houses anymore…’

A longer pause, one that left you watching the three little dots disappear and reappear while Emily debated how to reply. Where she struggled with wanting to blow you off, or if she really did want to get into this right now. Eventually she decided on somewhere in the middle.

‘Remember when we talked about setting down roots?’

‘Yeah.’

‘My therapist said the same thing.’

‘Told ya I wasn’t crazy.’

She huffed out a laugh, holding back the eye roll.

‘I tried. I’m trying. It’s just proving harder with each time. Like the more that I have tying me to here, the more I start to feel trapped. Caged in here with no opportunity to even see the other options anymore. The job’s the same, sure, but it’s also entirely different. We had a case a bit ago where the unsub was drowning his victims only to attempt to resurrect them, it was the first time the rest of the team found out I actually died, it left an even weirder taste in everyone’s mouths. It was the first time Reid looked me in the eye since being back, Morgan’s just barely over it, nothing feels right anymore. And buying a house? That seems like the last thing I should be doing if I feel like this. I don’t know where I’d want to go, what I’d want to be doing, it’s not like I’m out there actively looking for something different…’

‘But if it fell in your lap, you’d probably jump at the opportunity?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Well, hold off on putting the offer down for now, see what else is out there, talk it over with your therapist.’

‘I will. And hey, thanks for being my soundboard for all of this, it really hasn’t been the easiest.’

‘Of course. Life’s always easier with a friend by your side. I’ve got your back.’

‘No kidding.’ She smiled softly, ‘and thank you.’

**

Three weeks later the opportunity really did just drop into her lap. A phone call to an old source to help the BAU on a case lead to a very lucrative and enticing job offer. One that made her stomach twist into more knots than de arming a bomb did. 

At the end of the week Emily was surrounded by her team, her friends, people that she loved dearly, who were finally accepting her back in their lives. Yet she still felt completely isolated and alone. She was certain that things were never going to be the same in DC again, that it really was time for her to go. So, as she watched JJ and Will dance together, soft smiles on their cheeks while he leant in to steal a kiss, she made up her mind. 

She was taking the Interpol offer.

Maybe a complete reset and starting over really was what she needed right now.

_________________ @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @lesbodietcoke @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak

[jacquesthepigeon]

So in the London special:

The only truthful things Ladybug admitted was that she got defeated by Monarch and that he took both of the Miraculous from her and that Gabriel made the Wish lol.

She told Adrien that Monarch almost killed both her and Nathalie but that Gabriel pounced on Monarch before he could finalize the Wish and that Gabriel used the Wish himself in order to save Ladybug's and Nathalie's lives by exchanging his and Monarch's lives.

As far as Adrien and Paris is concerned both Gabriel and Tomoe were coerced by Monarch into making the Alliance Rings for his powers under the threat of harming their children if they don't help him. So Gabriel and Tomoe only locked their children in their white rooms in London in order to "protect" them from Monarch.

Nathalie indeed found out Ladybug's identity (so the second former villain who's more trustworthy to know her identity over her the supposed deuteragonist of the show according to the narrative) and she wants her to keep lying about everything cause she's still D riding Gabriel's corpse for some reason.

Kagami knows Tomoe was a villain working for Monarch but she told Marinette that she's gonna keep her under control from now on (cause in the ML universe only the children have to discipline their parents in order to stop them from being evil of course).

Emilie is indeed dead. Gabriel took her with him in hell afterlife.

Lila akumatized herself into 2 new OP villains just to still end up mindwiped from knowing Ladybug's identity lol. We still don't know how tf she got into that basement but at least we saw her in the blonde wig disguise as Iris Verdi (it looks horrendous).

Ladybug admitted to Cat Noir that she lied to Paris about what happened in the final battle with Monarch but she of course didn't tell him about what exactly has she lied about. People think this will matter in S6 but I bet it'll be another forgotten plot point.

I think that was pretty much it concerning this special.

How is anyone that allowed this to happen still employed in the entertainment industry? Go work in AI, that industry will appreciate their particular philosophy

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ lily collins wallpaper

reblog if you save ▪︎

-----------------------------------------------------------

[its-wabby-stuff]

I never really noticed this before (mostly because I haven’t rewatched this episode) but the color here is crazy.

Emilie (or Kagami representing Emilie) is in a blue room with Paris being orange. And Amelie (or Felix representing Amelie) is in an orange room and London is blue.

Now upon first glance, you feel more the temperature of the colors, and storytelling wise, the colors would seem to convey Emelie in a cold environment, despite marrying for love, and Amelie in a warm enviroment, despite knowing it was arranged and he was abusive. It’s poetically different. And slightly strange, as their environments tells us a different story.

But then I thought about it a different way. Emelie was an adventurer. She wanted to travel and see the WORLD. Amelie gave up everything for her FAMILY and being the heiress.

My eyes are quite quickly drawn to things in light contrasting the darker colder blue. Bringing things into focus. Emelies focus lies outside of her home at the WORLD, at Paris, the city of love. As if she still longs for adventure and is trapped inside. And Amelie’s focus lies inside with her FAMILY that she gives everything for, no matter how hard it is or what abuse she may have to face.

The windows have a story as well. As Emelies window is smaller and thinner, with less space between the bars. We know Adrien’s deepest fear is being contained and locked away. Maybe he shared that with his mother. But Amelie’s (like Adrien’s) window is big. Giving a sense of freedom. Perhaps, that freedom was allotted, or just an illusion for more control.

I think this can give interesting depth into these characters, and subsequently, the children they made. And why they made the discussions they did, such as Amelie’s devotion to her son despite not fully understanding. Or perhaps, some secrets of the Agreste household, where things never seem to be what you think.

[anemoiashifts]

places to shift for your personality type !

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

link : https://www.16personalities.com/free-personality-test

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

intj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ criminal minds

✦ scooby doo

✦ stranger things

✦ shadow hunters

intp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ gravity falls

✦ five nights at freddy’s

✦ narnia

✦ night in the woods

entj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ hunger games

✦ percy jackson

✦ alice in borderland

✦ coraline

entp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ rick & morty

✦ sherlock

✦ inside job

✦ undertale

infj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ harry potter

✦ merlin

✦ the walking dead

✦ sabrina the teenage witch

infp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ star vs the forces of evil

✦ ever after high

✦ spirit farer

✦ animal crossing

enfj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ game of thrones

✦ locke & key

✦ descendents

✦ demon slayer

enfp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ doctor who

✦ avatar

✦ dead poets society

✦ fantastic beasts

istj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ the originals

✦ the office

✦ wandavision

✦ greys anatomy

isfj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ buffy the vampire slayer

✦ my little pony friendship is magic

✦ sailor moon

✦ over the garden wall

estj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ firefly

✦ angel the series

✦ umbrella academy

✦ supernatural

esfj ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ lucifer

✦ euphoria

✦ hazbin hotel

✦ scream queens

istp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ miraculous

✦ monster high

✦ the owl house

✦ little witch academia

isfp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ amphibia

✦ pokemon

✦ hunter x hunter

✦ outer banks

estp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ the last of us

✦ scream

✦ divergent

✦ the vampire diaries

esfp ⋆˙⟡♡

✦ emily in paris

✦ once upon a time

✦ pretty little liars

✦ gilmore girls

love you ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ !! 🤍

[sophieabigail2021]

Don't you just love how he says this right after admitting to Marinette that he tried to akumatized her multiple times,saying that he doesn't give a shit about the people he endangered,and when Marinette tried to tell him there's another solution he immediately immobilized her and took the miraculous to make the wish and doesn't give a crap about Mari telling him to stop

And even after ALL THAT,this guy gets treated as a hero by everyone in Paris,Wow what a great well written main villain writers/s

What really angers me the most is how Marinette just accepted Gabriel's garbage promise about not telling his son about anything Hawkmoth related and only tell him about the ✨positives✨ (which my guy you treated your son like crap everyday even with your Nice!Gabe act,like you forced your son to be in a relationship with his ex girlfriend and locked him in an empty room alone in London,this is just fucked up),but also lying to everyone that Gabriel is a hero who saved everyone and it's just uuuuggghhhhhh

Also the fact that Emilie,Nathalie,Felix and Kagami don't even bother to reveal to Adrien about his Dad or the fact that he's a SentiKid makes my blood boil,seriously what a bunch of assholes

Also ALSO love how the miracuclass went from "Boo fuck you Gabriel you're a shit father" to them having no issue celebrating Gabriel as hero????,like does nobody in Paris be a little suspicious about Gabriel saving the day or is everyone losing their braincells even when Lila Cerise Iris isn't around

Anyway in conclusion this show is pure irredeemable garbage and this Season finally proves it with it's shit ending

[karin848]

To celebrate genderfluid Adrien month, I’m gonna share my favourite trans!Adrien headcanon which is as follows:

When Adrien came out as trans, it went surprisingly smoothly because his bodyguard supports him 100% no matter what and Nathalie didn’t really understand what he was talking about but she added “Transgender support groups in Paris” “HRT???” “Gender confirmation surgeons in Paris” onto her To-Do list

And Gabriel Agreste couldn’t remember the gender of the sentimonster he and Emilie made + he spends so much of his time locked away in his office that he can’t really remember what his kid dressed as or looks like anyway

[em-prentiss]

every page that I wrote, you were on it

----

Emily is in Paris, she’s alone, and she’s drowning. So she writes letters.

Word count: 3.9k

Brief mentions of opioids/sleeping pills

----

Emily Prentiss is, to all but three people, dead.

Paris doesn’t know that a breathing corpse walks its streets. And after Hotch and JJ moved heaven and earth to make that happen, Emily’s going to make sure it damn well stays that way.

And in her current state, it’s not like she can stroll through the streets for her own pleasure. Her body is constantly aching and burning, her head clouded in a layer of fuzz from her medication. Days pass by and she’s curled in on herself, shaking on her flimsy mattress as hours slip through her fingers, fighting back nausea or tears. What few thoughts she can form are distant and muffled; she’s either asleep or in pain, and Emily knocks back enough pills to chase the nightmares away with deep sleep.

She stays locked in her decrepit apartment for close to a week before she’s forced to leave it in search of groceries. The place is old and shabby; she has the very charming view of a brick wall outside her bedroom window. Though Emily Prentiss lavished herself in luxury, Emily Prentiss is dead, and the ghost she left behind makes do with the water stains on the ceiling and the floorboards that creak under her steps.

Those, she’s come to appreciate. At least she’d know it if someone was coming, even if she hadn’t had enough time to learn her away around the creaks yet. 

She will, eventually.

The first time she braves a trip to the supermarket, it’s a sunny morning in Paris. Emily wraps herself up in a jacket anyway, because she knows the fickle nature of French springs—and she’s proven right when the cold wind nearly knocks her fragile body to the floor. Cabs honk by incessantly, bikers whir past on wheels she envies, but she firmly decides to walk, because it’s a ten minute distance and she needs to feel something other than the pain and the foggy haze her meds keep her in.

It turns out to be a bad decision. She’s so winded by the time she gets there that she barely remembers to buy anything at all, unable to focus outside the throb in her body, the residual fear lingering in her bones constantly making her turn her head over her shoulder in search for someone who isn’t there. With trembling hands, Emily grabs a bag of bread, a tray of eggs, tears lining her eyes when a young boy shoves past her to reach the candy she’s shielding on the shelf behind her.

“Pardon.” He chirps over his shoulder, gummy Haribo’s crinkling in his grip as pain explodes along her abdomen.

“C’est pas grave,” Emily wheezes through clenched teeth. The soft bread deforms in her hands as she closes her fist around it, hot tears escaping past her tightly closed eyes. The throb has never left her since she got out of the hospital, but now it rises to a flaming hot fire, bursting along her skin and forcing her heart to trip. A small whimper escapes as she curls in on herself, trying to regain her steady breathing in the deserted aisle. 

Emily tries to breathe the way the nurses taught her. Slow inhale, hold it and count to four—but ragged pants escape her instead, the harshness of her breaths only adding to the pain. When it finally fades enough to become bearable she shuffles to the cashier on trembling legs, dropping her smushed bread and eggs onto the counter. The inside of her jacket is lined with sweat, her bangs prickly and damp above her eyes.

She takes a cab back to the apartment despite the laughable walking distance, one bag of groceries clutched in her fist, her cheeks growing sticky with the remnants of tears.

The groceries last less than a week.

The next time, she takes precautions. She goes to the closer, more run down supermarket down the corner, taking small steps on the cobblestones and forcing herself to listen to her body when it begs for a break, even if she’d taken one mere seconds before. This one is less than a five minute walk; a cab is firmly out of the question—a poor attempt at holding on to what little pride she has left. 

Five minutes take her three times that. Emily walks into the grocery store with a fine sheen of sweat on her skin and more resentment than she remembers feeling for her body ever since she was 15.

No wayward boys slam into her again. She’s careful, keeping an eye out on the aisles and the door as she piles instant noodles and frozen dinners into her basket. There’s no one there except her and the cashier and still the back of her neck prickles. Before her muscles lock up on the spot, she forces her legs to the cashier, ignoring the soft panting of her own breath. 

As she’s paying, she finds a notebook. It’s nothing sophisticated; A5, with a hard plastic cover and a wired spine. Emily doesn’t know why she takes it, only that she has too many thoughts and too much time and nothing to do with either of them.

April passes by in a blur, and by the end of it, she forces herself to dump the opioids in the trash; the drugs make her numb, too numb, and she’s had enough quiet in the past month to be sick of it. Her thoughts are hardly better company, but at least they’re unclouded. They don’t come alone, though—on her fifth trip to the grocery store, she throws a bottle of sleeping pills in her basket. The melatonin stays, and cheap packs of cigarettes join it. 

The weak pills don’t fully stifle the nightmares, but at least they chase them away until the tentative safety of the morning. In the brief pocket of time before them and after her heavier narcotics, Emily’s body would turn to lead with exhaustion; every night her eyes would stay peeled wide open, the silence ringing in her ears as she tried to listen for the slightest creak, the smallest thud. Her worn muscles would tense up at the drip of water from the faucet, the whip of the wind outside her apartment, and as Emily cowered on her bed, frustrated—frightened—tears gathering in her eyes, she’d curse Ian for not seeing his job through.

Think of them, she tells herself when she’s haunted by the idea of peace, her breaths coming heavy, tears running down her cheeks and soaking the scratchy material of her pillowcase. She’d close her eyes, but she wouldn’t give herself time to linger on their smiling faces before she reminds herself of what she’s done to them. That their smiles have been stolen away, that they’re living a lie she could easily uncover. That they’re living a lie they never would have been swept up in if she just left earlier, gathered up her own cowardice and fled for the right reason this time.

The weak, watery light of dawn brings with it some peace, and it’s only then that Emily can fall asleep. Most times she’s only claimed by the darkness for a few blissful hours before a nightmare rips her awake. It’s a vicious cycle, one the sleeping pills only put a slight strain on. She’s been tipping them into her palm for almost a week; at least when she wakes up sweating and shaking, the cover of night is finally lifted.

Tonight is a little different. 

She dreams of the warehouse, and it’s not her who’s dying. It’s Reid; young, thoughtful Reid, who almost sniffed her out before she blew him off. He’s on the floor. His hands are cuffed, golden brown curls turned heavy with blood.

When Emily screams, she wakes.

Dried tears have already turned her skin tacky, but her cheeks dampen again from a fresh wave of sobs. Her pillow is soaked, and the scorching heat of her tears almost distracts her from the thick darkness that hangs above her eyes like a blindfold.

It almost matches the darkness of the warehouse. Distantly, she hears her breath hitch, feels the gap in her pulse as her heart skips a beat.

Emily’s eyes skip through the black and Ian’s voice whispers in her ear. His breath brushes her shoulder and she scrambles out of bed none too carefully, pain blurring her vision further as her scar burns, but she’s not thinking about it as she reaches for the blinds. She harshly tugs them up, her muscles trembling as the lighter indigo of the night outside floods in and the darkness is lifted. Emily drags them up until they hit the top with a clatter.

Her body sags against the wall, her heaving pants fogging against the window and blurring the brick wall in front of her. The glass is cool; her skin is sweaty, droplets of rain forming at her feet. She tries to slow her breaths, count the bricks, but her vision keeps blurring. Reid keeps appearing, Ian keeps whispering.

Her phone is on her nightstand. It’s a cheap model, no numbers installed in it because she has no one to call. The most important ones are stored in her head, learnt by heart—an empty contact list doesn’t make it harder for her to revise the familiar trails of numbers. The temptation makes her fingers twitch but instead Emily lets her eyes wander around her now-lightened room, until she finds the notebook on her dresser. She still hasn’t cracked it open yet, even though she’d long since realized she didn’t have a pen and bought one on her third trip to the supermarket.

Emily forces herself to get it, ignoring the protest in her muscles as her hands shake, fingers trembling as she reaches for her pen as well. With both in hand, sinks gratefully into the thin mattress and also ignores the bottle of pills on her nightstand, her throat tightening as she turns her back on it.

It takes the better part of ten minutes before the tremors in her hand fade enough to let her write. When she does, it’s almost painful. The plastic of the pen digs into the sensitive, peeled skin around her cuticles, red and inflamed but this pain she can handle, this pain is so much smaller than that of the slowly mending hole in her abdomen. 

I’m sorry, is her first sentence. Her tears dot the page and blur the ink, turning it into a meaningless blob. Just like her apology, she thinks with a sniffled laugh. It’s a sorry, pathetic sound.

Reid is the first one she talks to. He pulls her through the night until dawn breaks and the exhaustion hits her like a brick, finally knocking her asleep until early afternoon. It’s the longest sleep she’s gotten since—Emily tries to think. It could’ve been since the hospital, but really, the last time she remembers sleeping in relative peace was before Sean called. 

This revelation is a lifeline. She starts talking to JJ, Garcia, though she’s not sure if she’ll be granted the same stroke of luck. Still, Emily tries. The words are awkward and frazzled as she tries to grasp at them—the feeble, shadowy outlines of their friends—begging them to stay with her and keep her company. It’s jarring; Emily has always loved being alone, more often than not preferring her own company to others’. She craved silence, enjoyed only having her shadow trail after her as she spent hours and days on her own. But this loneliness didn’t come by choice, and the need for interaction claws up her throat until she spills her words onto blank pages.

She doesn’t always have something to say. Imagining a one sided conversation with their grief stricken faces only makes her slam the notebook shut with a thud, guilty tears dampening her lashes, so she switches to something else. 

Emily starts writing down facts. Meaningless things, really; things she’s long since memorized and committed to memory, filed away in that section of her heart reserved for her family. Penelope likes cold brew on Wednesdays. Reid hums out Beethoven as he methodically sorts his files; Morgan switches on thrash metal when he’s working out. JJ is obsessed with anything vanilla, Rossi carries a monogrammed handkerchief in his pocket. Hotch keeps a world’s best dad mug in his desk drawer.

It gets easier after that. More natural, the words flowing free when she flips open the notebook and doesn’t linger on the blankness of the pages. The floodgates open, and she writes letters to everyone. Reid, Morgan, Garcia, Dave. For each one she writes an explanation—they’re the same words, every time, only warped differently from her bucketfuls of guilt—for each one she begs for forgiveness. For each one she writes that she is alive, even though she barely feels it.

She talks to Hotch for pages without realizing.

____

Dear Hotch Aaron,

It’s weird to think of you as Aaron. You’re Hotch. But I guess I’m not Prentiss anymore so you’ll have to be Aaron.

You’ll never read these, by the way. That’s why I’m talking to you in the first place. Imagining you on the other side of the conversation makes me a little less insane, I guess. And you out of everyone can relate. Isn’t it strange how this happened twice already? In the span of two years, no less. 

Watch out for them, she writes, her hand trembling in time with her lips. She tries to conjure the familiar snark to her own voice, but her shaky words betray her. Wouldn’t want this to happen to anyone else. I don’t think the team would handle that, do you? We’ve put them through enough.

Well, I certainly have.

She stares at it for a long time, knees hugging her chest, her cheek pressed to her sweatpants. They slowly soak through with salty tears. Emily doesn’t have anything more to say, though she’s trying to hold on to the sound of his voice. She and Hotch never shared many words; Emily liked that, liked that they could understand each other with a few sentences and a deliberate meeting of their gazes. Now she buries her face between her knees and wishes she had more of him to keep with her.

Emily Prentiss is dead, so she doesn’t sign her name. She closes the notebook and shuts it in her nightstand drawer.

____

Dear Aaron,

It’s cold. The walls are thin, even thinner than the ones in that motel we stayed in outside Pasadena. Remember the one? We had to share a room. It was the first time I saw you out of a suit. The first time I considered you might be just like us. Human, I guess. Bitchy of me, I know, but could you blame me?

You wore a white shirt. Slept in gray sweatpants. I only brought a pair of shorts. I remember, because you stared and I liked that you did. Trivial details, right? They almost don’t matter. But they’re what keep me from sinking lower. At least, I think. I can’t see the edge or the bottom, and I’m afraid to search.

Winter is coming. I’ve always loved fall, but now I can’t stomach it. Reid loves fall, did you know? Mostly because of Halloween, but I think it also speaks to the scholar in him. Could you—

Salty drops of rain soak the paper. Her tears form a thick enough veil that she gives up on the letter, knocking the pen off the table as she succumbs to gasping sobs. Reid won’t be enjoying Halloween this year, she knows. Hotch won’t be able to coax him to a reenactment of the phantasmagoria because she’s broken them all. 

Emily’s scar burns with the force of her sobs, but she deserves it, she deserves it.

____

Dear Aaron,

I can feel him hovering sometimes. I see him from the corner of my eye. I’m too scared to turn, but he never catches me.

Sometimes I wish he would.

____

Dear Aaron,

I can finally walk up the stairs without losing my breath. It’s a pretty pathetic thing to be proud of, isn’t it? 

Did you feel that way after Foyet? I’m not supposed to ask, I’m sure, but then again you’ll never read these. 

Did you resent the fact that your body could so easily be marked by someone else? Did you see him every time you saw yourself? I never look in the mirror these days; I’m afraid if I do I’ll finally see the extent of the damage he’s done to me. I keep the bathroom door cracked and shower in the dark. I only know my scars by touch. 

I don��t know what I’d do if I saw them. I don’t think I’d be able to put myself back together, and there’s no one here to do it for me. 

Could—her fingers hesitate on the pen. It digs deeper against her finger as she presses it more firmly against the page, her vision blurring. Could you tell me it’ll be okay again? Could I find my way? You came back after a while, but you never were completely the same. There was a weight on your shoulders. It’s funny, I thought I could lessen it. Getting you groceries and coaxing Jack to bed probably never helped much, but here, now, I’ll pretend they did. 

My scars are jagged. Yours are smooth, aren’t they? A knife seems a little more forgiving than a table leg, but in the end they all left us with something. I know you can’t answer, even if I asked. But maybe the silence would be enough, because it’s something we both share.

We share a lot of things, did you notice?

____

Dear Aaron,

I think he broke something in me.

____

Dear Aaron,

I miss your voice. Yes, yours. And everyone else’s. I hardly hear mine anymore, unless I’m screaming or paying for something. Sorry, that’s too personal, isn’t it?

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” Emily mutters under her breath. The sound of her own voice shocks her; it’s the first time the apartment has heard her speak, has witnessed something other than hoarse screams or breathless sobs. 

Her voice is dry. It cracks, but Emily swallows and puts the pen to the paper again.

____

Anger she has no right to feel burns in her chest, climbing up her throat as she flips through pages and pages of letters. Some have smudges and bleeds, some hardly take up half the page. 

Emily finally finds an empty page. Her pen easily finds the paper, the ink drawing sharp, angry lines that bleed into the next page.

Fuck you, Aaron. It’s November already. Six months. 

You promised.

I shouldn’t have believed you, but you were insistent. You held my hand and I had no choice but to believe you. It’s the warmest thing I’ve felt since the hospital. Sometimes I try to remember that warmth again. It seemed to radiate from you, even in the winter. Are you staying warm? Is Jack? Is it possible he’s somehow unaffected by all this?

Your promise is the only thing that keeps me hanging on, you know, but it’s getting harder. Where are you? Why haven’t you called yet?

Her next question sticks to her throat in a lump. Emily can’t ask it, even on paper, so she closes her eyes, flicking the pen from her fingers and wondering how much more of this she can take.

____

In the depths of her bleak darkness, a revelation comes, one that saves and destroys her in equal measure.

Dear Aaron,

I love you, she writes. I love you, I love you, I love you, and with each one, tears spill faster down her cheeks. Emily writes out the truth she couldn’t speak, finally baring it to no one, but at least it exists somewhere other than her heart. I’m sorry I never told you. I’m sorry I fucked it up. I don’t know if we could’ve had a chance but I ruined it anyway, I’m sorry. The words form faster than she can write, and her handwriting turns messy, the words scrambling to leave her head, something to rival Reid’s, and that absent thought sends more droplets of salt on the paper. Sobs wrack through her chest before she’s done writing, and as Emily buries her damp face in her hands, she distantly realizes her body no longer aches with the effort.

It’s just her heart, and that, she finds, is infinitely more painful.

She can’t get herself to finish the letter. Emily tears up the page, crumples it into a ball, and lights it on fire.

****

And then, he’s calling.

Emily takes her half packed bag—because he promised, and she couldn’t help but believe him—and cracks it open before she knows what she’s doing, tossing her notebook in before she closes it back up.

Though she doesn’t write anything else when she’s back, she keeps the notebook. A shiny new one from her therapist stacks on top of it, glossy and still wrapped months after it’s been handed to her. The letters stay her own, though once she has the absent thought of giving them to Morgan and Reid and Garcia. But then she reads the words and tangibly feels her desperation, her grief, and it’s like whole chunks of her heart have been distilled into the pages. They’re achingly vulnerable, honest in a way that makes her want to wrap her arms around herself and curl up in a ball even though they’re only hers to see. The pages are crinkled with the sweat from her hand, from her grip on them as she wrote. Scattered words are blurred from her tears, the water making them bleed through into other letters.

No, Emily thinks. She’s already gotten their forgiveness, however slow it may have been to come. They wouldn’t benefit anything from reading the letters other than pitying her and tearing open an already healing wound. 

It drags her down, reading them again. For some reason she can’t fully explain, not to her therapist because she doesn’t know about them and not to Hotch because even though she made him a promise, she didn’t mean it—she’s not like him like that. He notices the shift in her, the tension in her shoulders, but Emily knows he won’t ask. 

She doesn’t read the letters again after that. Emily moves them to the bottom drawer of her nightstand until she gets an offer she won’t admit she’s been waiting for.

The notebook is too heavy a weight to carry to London. She desperately needs a fresh start, a clean slate; a life where she’s untethered. 

It’s funny. Emily remembers her desperation in her youth, the aching want for home, a connection. Now she can’t tear herself away from it fast enough, scrambling to return to the solitude that was once all she’d ever known.

It’s as everyone says, she thinks as she sits cross legged in front of her fireplace, flipping open the notebook and tearing out the first page; old habits die hard. She methodically rips out the letters until they form a pile on the floor next to her. Her eyes don’t drop to their contents; she already knows them by heart.

One by one, Emily feeds them to the fire.

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