Shay|22|she/her. Visually impaired fanfic writer who does not have the energy to run multiple side blogs. If you follow me, please be prepared for multi fandom chaos. Star Wars and criminal minds but also just occasional other random shit
and here it is! What I’ve been fondly referring to in my head as the big scary masterlist of masterlists is finally, at least for the most part, finished, and ironically, just in time for Halloween as well . For those of you who have patiently watched as my profile has slowly divulged into what looks like a preschool arts and crafts classroom for the past week, thank you for bearing with me.
•all of my reader inserts are shared on here, but if you would like to read all of my work, consider stopping by myAO3
click here to buy me a coffee☕️ believe me, as a struggling disabled artist, I could use the support, even just the smallest amount if you are able to give it. Thank you.🩷
Series masterlists
The Jedi, the Commander, and their Dearest Cyar Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi/fem reader
How these clones would be with a visually impaired significant other (headcannons/1shots) Various Clones/fem (visually impaired) reader
Cross your Thoughtless Heart Commander Wolffe/Original female Character (ongoing)
Rebellious Vision Echo x Original female Character (ongoing)
•Currently includes: Hunter, Tech, Echo, and Wrecker
the 501st
•currently includes: Kix, Dogma, Hardcase
Miscellaneous
•this masterlist includes a multitude of characters across various fandom’s I’ve written for, but not enough to warrant creating lists for each of them individually. If you’ve read something of mine and are looking for it, but it doesn’t seem to fit in any of the categories I’ve listed above, chances are, you’ll find it here.
the biggest hugest thank you too @dystopicjumpsuit for so kindly offering to make me new dividers, and thank you in advance for dealing with the probably incessant emails as I tag you in some of the other smaller masterlists as I endeavour to replace their dividers
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This was one of the best scenes of criminal minds, mind you this man is the BAU chief who is more than busy, he's struggling at home because he can't pay attention to his postpartum wife and his newborn child because he's so entangled in catching killers ...
And still he chooses to clean the blood from Elle's apartment himself. These 20 seconds revealed more about him than an entire episode.
If you continue to fail to see that Tyler Green has in fact grown and his character has developed post s16 then that’s on you and your inability to comprehend media literacy.
Relationship: Emily Prentiss and Carrie Ortiz (Momily)
Word count: 2.9 K
Summary: (Post 3x4: “Children of the Dark”) after the case in Denver, Emily brings Carrie Ortiz home with her to D.C. on an emergency placement. The night is made up of exhaustion, a travel blanket, borrowed clothes, and community, even if Emily herself doesn’t yet realize that she has one.
Tags/warnings: Mentioned canon typical violence, Momily, fluff, mild angst and hurt/comfort, Penemily if you squint
The jet is always alive.
There’s always the low, constant Hum of its engine, and almost always there is someone who’s awake, even if the cabin lights are low, even when all the windows are shrouded in darkness.
Tonight, it’s Emily who’s awake. But that’s not what she’s so keenly aware of.
She’s aware that the decision to take her in was bold, maybe even a little bit impulsive. But she can’t really say that it was reckless. She had thought about it, and had, rather quickly come to the conclusion that it was something that she could do. Of course, Hotch had not initially agreed. It had taken her close to an hour to convince him that her judgement was sound, and that she wasn’t starting to lose objectivity by bringing Carrie Ortiz back to DC with her when the next of kin that had been arranged for her in LA had fallen through. After that, it was another hour, maybe even closer to two, to convince social services, and to let her bring Carrie home with them on the jet rather than making her travel separately with a caseworker.
But, despite Hotch’s reservations, once he was on your side, he was committed. She doesn’t know what calls he made; doesn’t know what strings he’s pulled. But the point is that Carrie is here, in the seat beside her, and the girl seems simultaneously exhausted, yet also adamantly averse to sleep.
Emily can’t blame her. She doesn’t know the specifics of her nightmares, doesn’t know much beyond the fact that when they had come to collect her from the hospital yesterday morning, she had screamed her voice hoarse until she had woken with a start and collapsed into JJ‘s arms as soon as she knew where she was. It doesn’t take a genius, though, and just one look at the crime scene photos that were taken at the Ortiz house to understand exactly what she was dreaming about.
Emily thinks that since then, Carrie probably hasn’t slept at all. She watches her from the corner of her eye, head tipping back, eyes fluttering closed, then a forceful little jump every few minutes as the cycle repeats.
She’s intentionally keeping herself awake, she realizes, and Emily can’t really blame her for doing that either, even if by this point, sleep is something the girl desperately needs.
She hates that she can’t fix it, hates the helplessness of knowing that she can’t make them go away, nor are they likely to anytime soon... but that doesn’t mean she can’t help, even if it’s just to make Carrie feel more settled.
Her eyes flick to the nearest jet couch, where Reid’s Long, lanky form is awkwardly sprawled out across, his feet dangling off the armrest. He’s awake, book propped up against his elbow. She doesn’t know how he keeps it from falling shut, especially when they hit turbulence. But clearly, it’s a balancing act that he’s had time to master, and she almost feels guilty interrupting it... almost.
Carrie jumps again, the abrupt movement startling her so hard that her arm knocks against Emily’s shoulder. She cringes, mumbling a quiet “sorry,” as she looks down.
“It’s okay,” Emilie murmurs, her voice little more than a whisper as she reaches out and gives her knee a light squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” she adds as she rises to her feet, making her way through the darkened cabin.
Hey,” she says softly, crouching down beside Spencer so that she isn’t ominously looming.
Hey,” he says just as quietly, letting the book fall face down against his chest, still open. Even though it’s dark outside he’s alert, and if there’s any judgement reserved for her ultimately quick decision to take in Carrie, he doesn’t show it. Only pushes up on his elbows, offering her a gentle smile. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah,” she says, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she worriedly looks towards Carrie, who’s now making a valiant effort to keep her eyes fixed towards the window, though Emily thinks that she might be 10 seconds away from her head dangerously making contact with the glass as she struggles to keep herself upright. “Look, I normally wouldn’t ask, but.”
Spencer follows her gaze, eyebrows arching in understanding.
“Oh,” he says quietly, already moving to swing his long legs down to the floor. “Oh, yeah, of course. I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyways. I’m reading about a comparative analysis of ancient board games, and it’s actually quite fascinating.”
“Right,” Emily says dryly, offering him a fond, tired eye roll as he gets up. Only Reid could find something like that positively riveting at this hour. “You have fun with that.”
“I will,” he says as he shuffles off towards a cluster of empty seating. “And I know i’m not taking my own advice, but you should try and get some rest too, if you can.”
“I’ll try,” Emily agrees, even though she knows that she won’t. Shaking her head as she uses the couch for balance and pushes herself back up onto her feet, she goes to collect Carrie, whose head is indeed now awkwardly tipped towards the window. She reaches out, slow, laying a careful hand on her shoulder and Carrie looks up, too exhausted to even reflexively startle.
“Hey,” Emily says gently. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”
“Go?” Carrie asks, blinking up at her sluggishly and frowning as she looks almost like she’s lost. “Where.”
“There’s a couch that’s available just over there,” Emily explains, reaching down to help the girl with her seatbelt because Carrie’s Hands are shaking. “I’ll help you.”
“Kay,” Carrie mumbles, and her voice is so soft and trusting, so far from the teenager who had, just hours ago, been filled with righteous fire, demanding answers from an unsub to try and find some explanation, some justification, as to why her entire family had been murdered.
Emily’s Heart breaks as she struggles to get to her feet, and she reaches out and loops an arm around her shoulders, half guiding, half supporting her as they make the short walk to the newly available couch where she encourages Carrie to lie down.
Once she’s settled there, Emily goes back to her seat, quietly rummaging around her gobag, fingers brushing past case files and spare clothes until she finds the folded wool travel blanket she always keeps tucked at the bottom.
It’s soft, warm, the kind of thing that compresses down to nothing but always feels like safety once you’re wrapped in it. She bought it years ago in a Zurich airport during a layover that had lasted 12 miserable hours, and it’s been with her on every jet since.
Carrie hasn’t moved. She’s on her side, knees drawn in, one hand loosely fisted in her shirt, still bracing even as her eyelids continuously flutter. Emily kneels beside her, lowering herself slowly so as not to disturb the fragile quiet. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets the blanket settle over Carrie in a gentle cascade, tucking it around her shoulders, smoothing it over her back with the kind of touch that’s meant for skittish animals and frightened children. Carrie exhales, a tiny sound, almost a whimper. But her fingers loosen, her shoulders drop.
“Warm enough?” Emily whispers, even though she knows Carrie is already drifting. The girl doesn’t answer, but she shifts closer, nudging into the blanket like she’s seeking the heat, the softness, the safety.
Emily stays a moment longer, hand resting lightly on Carrie’s arm, feeling the tremors ease under her palm. She’s just about to rise, planning on settling in the row of seats opposite the couch when Carrie calls out.
“Em?”
Emily freezes, hovering mid crouch.
“What if I start screaming again?”
Emily settles back down on her knees, letting out a slow breath. Of course, she would still be worried about that, even as sleep does everything it can to pull her downward. What Emily can do, though, is at least meet that fear head on with honesty.
“Then I promise you,” Emily says, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Carrie’s ear, “that you would not be the first.”
Carrie blinks, looking at her with confusion. Emily’s Expression softens as she glances around the cabin. “This jet has seen a lot.”
“A lot?” Carrie asks, a wrinkle of curiosity appearing between her eyebrows.
“A lot,” Emily confirms. “Screaming, crying, panic attacks, staring out the window in existential dread, you name it, she’s seen it. What happens on board stays on board, okay?”
“Okay.”
Carrie barely manages a response, eyes already drifting shut, curling even tighter into the blanket as she fades fast. Emilie watches her a moment longer, waits until she hears the sound of her breathing even out.
Then she gets to her feet and steps away, pulling out her cell to make a phone call.
———
“YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU ADOPTED A CHILD?”
Emily winces, even though she had anticipated this. She’s locked herself in the jet bathroom, and the phone is held at least 6 inches away from her ear. To her exhausted brain, apparently 6 inches still isn’t enough to escape the bright, far too energetic, considering the late hour, voice of Penelope Garcia.
“As I said, it’s a temporary placement,” Emily explains, pinching at the bridge of her nose.
“Riiight,” Garcia‘s eye roll is practically audible. “Temporary.”
“Are you willing to help me or not?”
Emily immediately feels bad for the note of irritation that’s entered her voice. It has nothing to do with Penelope, a lot to do with how gruelling this case was, and mostly to do with, despite how much weight she had placed on the decision to take Carrie with her or not, the reality is that now that she’s here, she realizes that there are a lot of logistics to sort out, and things that need to be handled.
Still, she shouldn’t take it out on Garcia, and she’s just about to immediately apologize when Penelope keeps talking.
Okay,” she says, sounding completely unfazed. “Okay, okay. I am processing. I am absorbing, and I am calm. What do you need?”
“My guest bedroom,” Emilie begins, absently biting at one of her cuticles as she stares off. “It’s, functional. But it’s not exactly comforting for a teenager”
“Okay,” says Garcia, already seeming to know where this is going. “And you want me to revamp it before you guys get home?”
“You don’t have to do anything crazy. Just, a few things that make it feel a little more like a home, if you’d be up to do it. You totally don’t have to,and I get that it’s late in DC but.”
“Emily, shush,” Garcia cuts her off, suddenly firm. “I will do it, and I will do it happily.”
Are you sure?” Emily asks, suddenly uncertain. “We’re landing in just over two hours at around 2 AM DC time.”
“Are you seriously underestimating what I can do in under two hours?” Penelope asks, genuinely affronted. “Don’t be dumb, Emily. I’ve got this.”
“If you’re sure,” Emily feels her lips pull upward into what feels like the first genuine smile she’s had in days. “Well, you know where my spare key is. Let yourself in and upstairs under the vanity is a safe with some loaded credit cards that you can use to buy some stuff for the room.”
“I’m sorry? You just have a safe? With a bunch of spare credit cards lying around in your apartment? Emily Prentiss, you continue to be a sexy and mysterious mystery woman who I’m not entirely convinced isn’t some sort of spy. But your wish is my command.”
“And your attempt to make me blush has succeeded,” Emily admits, grateful that Garcia can’t see the way her cheeks flush. “Thank you, Penelope. I owe you big time.”
“No, you don’t,” Garcia says immediately, her voice uncharacteristically serious. Emily can hear the quiet jingle of keys in the background and Garcia‘s heels against polished floors. “What you need to do is go take care of that little angel asleep on the couch out there, and I will handle all of this. Oh, and if you haven’t heard this from anyone yet, you did the right thing. you are a wonderfully kind soul who is making a child feel safe, and as someone who was adopted herself, that matters. It’s just as important as all the work we do here.”
“Thank you, Pen,” she says a lot more quietly this time.
“I love you and good night,” Garcia chirps, “and i’ll leave out some food for the two of you for when you get home.”
And with that she’s gone, the call disconnecting, but leaving a suspiciously warm feeling in Emily’s chest.
Maybe she can do this, she thinks as she quietly exits the bathroom. Maybe she isn’t as alone as she had thought.
———
Emily unlocks the apartment door, Carrie close beside her. The overhead lights are off, but Garcia has left on some warm lamps, which cast a soft glow as Emily guides carry inside.
She stands in the entryway, taking everything in without really seeing it.
“Let’s get these off,” Emily murmurs, crouching in front of Carrie and beginning to untie her shoes. She taps her ankle, prompting her to step out, and just as efficiently repeats on the other side. When she stands up, Carrie is blinking heavily, and Emily gently lays a hand on her back to guide her.
Emily leads her upstairs, leaving her in the hallway briefly as she steps into her own room, returning with an academy T-shirt that will most definitely be oversized on Carrie, and a pair of drawstring pyjama shorts which she hands over to her.
“Are you sure?” Carrie asks, even as she holds the bundle close.
“I didn’t want you to have to go searching through your suitcase,” says Emily, steering her over towards the bathroom. “There’ll be time for you to do that in the morning.”
She doesn’t add that it’s also because Carrie looks just about dead on her feet right now. But still, she hovers outside the door, worrying that if she leaves her alone, she’ll just stand there and not know what to do with herself.
As it is, when the door opens once more, carry looking even smaller and younger in Emily’s Oversized clothes, she lets Emilie lead her without complaint to the bedroom that’s just across the hall.
When Emilie pushes open the door and turns on the light, she can’t help but immediately catalogue the difference is that are clearly the touches of Garcia. It’s still her guest room, still has neutral-coloured walls and curtains. But there are new, fresh sheets and a soft pastel comforter neatly spread on the bed, a cosy throw blanket folded on the end, plush memory foam pillows, and propped up against them is a small, floppy golden retriever stuffed animal neatly posed in a sitting position.
There’s also a soft area rug on the floor, a basket of fully stocked toiletries tucked beneath the bed, a nightlight discreetly plugged into the wall and, when Emily casts a glance towards the dresser, there’s an alarm clock that displays the correct time. All of the tags have been removed. Emily doesn’t even see them hidden in the waste basket, and she silently thanks Garcia for her thoughtfulness, making a note to send her a text before she goes to bed.
“Soft,” Carrie murmurs, stepping into the room in front of her and running a hand over the comforter. She looks up at Emily, exhaustion temporarily giving way to a small smile, the first that she’s seen from Carrie ever since they met two days ago.
“It is,” Emily hums, stepping to the head of the bed and carefully pulling it back.
Carrie glances up at her, tired but uncertain.
“Go on,” Emily encourages gently. “If you need anything I’m gonna stay up for a bit.”
Slowly, she nods her head, climbing up into the bed, unresisting as Emily tucks the blanket around her shoulders.
Thank you,” Carrie mumbles, eyes already closing, stretching and yawning as she nuzzles her face into one of the pillows.
“Would you like the door open or closed?”
“A little open,” Carrie says quietly, and Emilie nods her head, flicking on the nightlight and turning off the overhead lights.
“Tomorrow,” Carrie begins, blinking heavily as she trails off, already losing her train of thought.
Emily pauses in the doorway, glancing back at her. She steps back into the room, reaching out to smooth a hand over Carrie’s dark curls and adjusting the blanket.
“I’ll be here,” she says steadily, and carry completely relaxes, perhaps even just subconsciously needing to hear that verbal reassurance.
“Kay,” Carrie says quietly, exhaling a soft breath. “G’night, Emily.”
“Good night, Carrie,” Emily says just as softly, before exiting the room and leaving the door slightly open just as specified.
Emily makes her way downstairs. Her gobag is still on the floor. It still needs to be unpacked, repacked, all the things that she usually does as soon as she gets home just in case they get called out on another case.
Tonight though, she does none of those things.
Her gobag stays where it is.
Instead, she puts on the kettle and opens up her laptop. She settles in on the couch in the living room, and gathers all the documentation she’ll need, then pulls up the email with all of the paperwork that child welfare services have sent to her.
Upstairs, the bedroom door is still cracked open, just as Carrie had asked.
Emily takes a sip of now lukewarm coffee, opens the first form, and begins to type.
Is this realistic? No. But consider that I don’t care. I’m making Emily Prentiss a mom and letting her bring Carrie Ortiz home as God intended, and let’s be real, I’m probably going to make this a series of interconnected one shots. I just love them so much and they are so special to me. If you liked, please let me know, and consider dropping a like or comment. Or both. Please both. Ily.
click here to buy me a coffee☕️ believe me, as a struggling disabled artist, I could use the support, even just the smallest amount if you are able to give it. Thank you.🩷
summary: emily comes home after a long day and all she wants to do is hold you
tags: fluff, cuddling, big spoon!emily, hurt/comfort if you squint, established relationship, early seasons emily, lesbian!emily, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n
──────────﹒♡﹒──────────
Sleeping through the night is hard. It's especially frustrating when you don't have the familiar grip of your girlfriend's arms around your waist, or her warm chest flush against your back.
Emily's always insisted on being the big spoon. It's something non-negotiable for her. She'd never admit it, though, and you'd never question her on it. It feels too good to be held, and you've spent your entire day waiting for her to climb into bed with you.
That's why you always seem to know exactly when the mattress dips on her side, waking you from the slumber that can never be quite that deep without her anyway. You smile when you feel the soft skin of her arm glide across your waist and the soft puff of her breath against the back of your neck. You don't know why you try to pretend you're still asleep. It never works.
"Missed you," Emily murmurs against your skin where she presses a kiss so soft you can barely feel it. Your once even breathing falters when you take in the smooth, low tone of her voice and her dark hair tickling your shoulder. You feel her lips curl upward against the back of your neck and you know you've been caught.
"You gonna answer me, or are you gonna keep pretending to be asleep?" She teases.
"You're annoying," you smile as you press your back further against her chest. She tightens her hold on you in response. "Did you have a good day?" You ask, and she lets out a soft sigh.
"Define good," she mumbles, and you know what's coming. Emily's cautious about burdening you, but she's always open about the persistent hollow burrowed in her gut by her occupation. "I just wonder if it even makes a difference."
"You helped people. That's always good," you reassure her, and she presses her face between your shoulder blades. It nearly makes you burst with the urge to turn around and squeeze her the same way she so perfectly holds onto you. But you know better. Right now she needs this.
She needs something solid and reliable to hold onto. Needs to feel every minute shift of your body when you take a breath, and the way your skin warms under her fingertips. She holds you tight, but her grip is also so painfully soft and careful that it takes everything in you not to blurt out every mushy feeling in your chest for her. You settle for something simpler, but not any less true.
"I love you," you say, and it's not just to appease or comfort her. You mean it now just as much as you do when she's rambling off a passage of a favorite novel to you, syllables spilling out of her mouth faster than her breath can keep up with them. You mean it just as much as when you've done something admittedly foolish and you see her lip quirk up, knowing she's about to make you laugh by poking fun in that wry, dorky way that only she knows how to do.
"You love me enough to give me a kiss?" She asks with a thin veil of humor, but you hear that vulnerable edge to her voice, like you're the only thing grounding her.
You turn your head to look at her over your shoulder, and your tummy does a pleasant flip when your eyes lock with hers, big and brown and so beautifully soft even in the darkness of your bedroom. Your gaze drops to her lips, perfectly curved into little half-moons at the cupid's bow and slightly parted in anticipation. You forget why you turned around in the first place.
The callouses on her fingers don't stand a chance at taking away from the gentle sensation on your jaw as she carefully cradles it, guiding your face closer to hers. Her lips are nothing but a tickle against yours, and your chest furls with something tight and almost painful when you feel the slight tremble of her mouth. You press your lips more firmly against hers, in desperate need to reconnect after the long hours of distance, but also to show her that you're here. You're hers and you're not going anywhere. She's enough just as she is.
You know your remedy is doing the trick when her hand finds your waist, gently tugging you to face her without breaking the kiss for more than a millisecond. Her arms curl around you almost protectively, but it's just as much for her sake as it is yours.
When your lips part, you finally see the faintest smile start to form as she soothingly strokes your lower back with her thumb.
"Thanks. I love you too, by the way," she says, her voice soft and just a bit lighter than it was when she first sank down beside you.
"Oh, so now you can say it once you get a kiss. Greedy," you tease, because of course you have to get her back for her smart-ass tendencies that you cherish so much.
Your chest feels lighter than it has in days when you hear the tiniest giggle escape her lips, the sound so soft it's almost indistinguishable from a breath. You close your eyes and nuzzle your cheek against her chest, positioning your ear just so, making sure you can hear the steady thump of her heart. You smile when it speeds up ever so slightly at the first hook of your leg over her hip.
"Night," she says softly as she keeps you securely in her grasp, soothed by the silent reassurance that she'll have you in her arms tonight.
author’s note: this is my first ever fic!! i’m super nervous about posting this, but emily is such a good muse i couldn’t help but write about this headcanon i have for her. please let me know if you enjoyed and/or would want to read more fic like this!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I love jemily, but the way jemily stans on twitter are speaking about Erica Messer is starting to feel uncomfortable. No, she did not rewrite an entire season of the show because AJ and Paget wore jemily shirts, she didn't personally ban bts photos to spite you or because she hates queer people. That was likely a decision made by Paramount because the cast and crew couldn't stop spoiling important plot points. The vitrol you're all treating her with is weird
This was really bothering me too. I’m personally not a Jemily shipper and as someone who joined the fandom in January I think a lot of the Twitter culture surrounding them might have something to do with it. It’s disappointing to see a female showrunner taking so much heat from primarily female fans. If she had ruined the entire show that would be another story. But the fact is she’s one of the main reasons why criminal minds is still going, and everyone from the cast who’s spoken about her clearly has a lot of respect for her because she seems to respect their characters
I know people are going to be dragging Penelope after this episode. I've already seen it. The accusations of her being "OOC" and the statements of "Penelope would never do this." And I am here to tell you:
She would do this, and she already has.
In this essay, I will explain how Penelope testifying on Voit's behalf is completely in character, and delve into the background of her character that explains this behavior.
Penelope's Guilt & Her Over-identification with Unsubs
Penelope's foundation for her entire adulthood is the fact that her parents were killed, and she blamed herself. For decades. And I don't think she ever fully forgave herself, either.
When she meets with the drunk driver who killed her parents, she ascribes the same level of responsibility in their death to herself as she does him. He says to her, "the only thing I want is a chance to go back to that night and make a better choice." And fighting back tears, Penelope says, "We have that in common." She tells him her parents were looking for her that night, so therefore, it's her fault they were out, and her fault they died. Completely untrue in any objective, logical way of looking at it - but emotions aren't objective, aren't they? Penelope was 18 when her parents died and she felt it was at least half her fault for most of her adult life. So when she thinks about other unsubs, she can't help but think of herself as well. She thinks of the things that happened in her life to lead her to make a poor decision that 'resulted' in her parents death. And she can't help put feel that puts herself on the same level as unsubs. (And I have a whole separate essay in my head here about how this specific guilt about her parents drives her into Shane's arms, becoming a criminal hacker, and embracing an identity that she didn't feel. But I DIGRESSS.)
In s16, when Penelope is trying to track down Sicarius, she discovers a signal in all of his buried containers, and so she turns them on. It helps them see where all the containers are. But then the signals are turned off - which means that Sicarius was alerted to the fact that the BAU was on to him. Now, this serial killer knows he's being targeted. He will go to ground, he will destroy evidence, he will hide, making it harder to find him. Immediately, Penelope is struck with guilt - she wonders to Rossi, "Did I just make things worse?" Of course she didn't, but all she can think about is the negative outcome of her actions - a serial killer might get away.
There's another incident that happens in s18, with Tate Andrews. This kidnapped victim has a stomach filled with explosive bags full of fatal spiders. Penelope works her ass off identifying the signals and trying to disarm them, not realizing that the unsub predicted this move from her and put in a failsafe. Thus, her disarmament of the signal actually caused the explosives to go off, killing Andrews. Again - it's not Penelope's fault. She was trying to help. No reasonable person would ever blame her. But Penelope's base way of being is to feel guilt over things - she could have helped, but she didn't, and to her, she only harmed. When talking with Voit about this incident after the fact, she puts herself fully on Voit's level with him. She brings some cleansing essential oils to Voit and says "We're cleansing Tate Andrews, and the actions we took that led to.." and then she trails off, trying not to cry. But she is referencing his death. I just think it is very telling that she specifically said "the actions we took." She is implying a level of responsibility equal to that of Voit's, here. Voit, notorious serial killer. And she's putting herself on HIS LEVEL. Cuckoo bananas of course. But she can't help how she feels, and she feels like she is a killer. And if you feel like you've killed, well, it's easy to empathize with other people who actually have killed.
Penelope's Track Record of Empathy
Penelope, as we know, has that self-described freakish empathy going for her. I don't personally find it very freakish, but in her situation - working within the heart of a crime fighting organization - it puts her more out of place than usual. In the course of her work, we see Penelope routinely ferret out the nitty gritty background details of the unsubs. So she is privy to everything these unsubs have gone through in their lives that led to where they ended up. And as the show portrays, very often the unsubs grew up in horrible conditions that aided in their turn to evil.
No, she doesn't excuse anyone because of this. She very much cares about catching bad guys, stopping them from doing more harm, and seeing justice for victims. But two things can be true - she can care about all those things, and she can feel empathy for another human who has had a wretched existence that turned them into a monster. I mean, it is sad, isn't it? Someone could be raised in a childhood of abuse and trauma, their every day a fresh new day of hell, until it warps their psyche so much they lash out and hurt others? That's sad to me. That's a person who never got a chance.
So, this empathy has led Penelope to have two very signficant character moments in the show, and these are the two specific times that she has taken a very similar action as to the events in Proxy.
Greg Baylor. Baylor tried to kill Reid and possibly would have turned on her next, and she had to shoot him to protect them both. That was already a traumatizing event for someone who never uses guns and doesn't like to hurt people. Penelope was driven to an EXTREME in that moment, out of sheer desperation to protect Reid. And Reid even recognized the importance of getting Penelope out of her own head in that moment - repeating to her that she saved his life, that he was thankful, that it was good she did that. So on the heels of that incident which would have been very difficult to live through, hearing that Baylor was sentenced to death because of her indirect actions - shooting him and leading to his arrest - she feels responsible in that way she does when it comes to her guilt. She says to Morgan:
"Killing him doesn't bring any of the people that he killed back again, and it's bad karma for everyone."
Penelope is anti-death penalty, and that includes murderers and even people that try to kill her loved ones.
And she does not want Greg Baylor's death on her conscience, so she did with Baylor what she does with Voit - she tried to get his death sentence commuted. Penelope wrote letters, called the governer, whatever else to try to get his death sentence changed to life in prison instead. It didn't work for Baylor, but the point is - she tried to do the same. Exact. Thing.
Jesse Wilson. Jesse was the drunk driver that killed Penelope's parents. She spent a long time letting him be punished in jail. And for two reasons, one is that this was a very personal death to her so this is the strongest we've seen her react to an 'unsub.' But two - and most importantly - Penelope avoided the hell out of this situation the entire time. In the episode All You Can Eat, we find out that she's never gone to a single one of his parole hearings before that time. And I think this was a protective measure for her. Because she KNEW if she faced him, saw him in person, or had to think about him and his situation too hard - she would feel some empathy for him. And she was so angry, she couldn't let herself do that. And what happened the moment that she did go to one? She let herself be talked into meeting with Jesse, and she allowed herself to hear what he had to say, and she shared her own guilt with him, and then ultimately, she forgave him. Even at the expense of her brothers, especially Carlos. Even knowing there was a big chance that Carlos would never forgive her for this. But she couldn't help it. As soon as she saw things from Jesse's point of view and considered the impact on his life as well, her empathy won out, and she argued for Jesse to be released from prison. And for what it's worth - Carlos does eventually forgive her, because he knows that's who she is. He says to her - I might never understand how you could do that. But I know it comes from a good place.
Penelope and Voit
The entirety of season 18 was about Voit regaining his empathy. Cyrus broke his brain the first time, and now his concussion broke it back. We see a very, very different Voit in s18 - his character goes on a journey of rediscovering his empathy after a traumatic brain injury. We see him come to grips with the guilt he feels. We see him realizing he still has the monster inside of him, and he is afraid of it. We see him trying to do the right thing for the first time in his life.
At the beginning of season 18, Penelope says "I'm hoping I can see something salvageable in him." Penelope knows Voit's entire history, the entire horrible story of how he was raised by Cyrus after his parents died - abused, forced to help murder and hide bodies as a child, conditioned and groomed into becoming a psychopath himself. It's horrible for her to think of what his life as a young boy was like. And to see the serial killer he became - a brutal, torturing monster. It's almost impossible for her to think that that's all there is to him. An empty void that kills and hurts. She doesn't want to believe there is a person that doesn't even have the slightest spark of good inside him. So, she visits him, and she hopes that she can see that.
And, crazily enough, she does see that! Through the season we find out he's changed. Penelope is the first to accept and believe it, with the rest of the team eventually coming to accept it as well (to varying degrees over varying lengths of time). She bonds with Voit - they're both super hackers and connect over that. They joke together. Voit is appreciative of her, pretty much the only one besides his doctor to treat him like a person - something he knows he doesn't even deserve, but it still feels nice. Penelope is the only one to ask him if he thinks he is a good person. And that question isn't about his past, or even making up for his crimes - which he can never do. It's about what he can be going forward. Are you a good person? Are you going to make decisions from here on out to help, and not harm? Because for Penelope, you can be a criminal but still be good - because she was, after all, wasn't she?
Penelope believes in change, she believes in redemption. Penelope told us this herself, way back in season 4, episode 19 - House on Fire:
"You guys choose this. Turning people over like rocks, and looking at all their creepy crawly things underneath. And I get it, I do. It's the only way to catch them. But...
I want to see the good in people.
I choose to see the good in people."
This is who Penelope is - and she is choosing to see the good in Voit.
~thank you for coming to my ted talk~
Supporting Documentation
I've made a few gifsets and written a few rambly posts about the subjects above, because this is something about Penelope's character I have always. Loved. This is who she is, to me. So if you're interesting in seeing some gifs of several of the scenes I've mentioned above or just reading some of my other thoughts (some of which I've rehashed in this essay lol) then here you go!
10x02 vs 18x01 - Penelope fighting for Greg Baylor's life (vs Penelope seeing the good in Voit)
18x07 - Penelope asking Voit if he feels he is a good person, and Voit telling her yes, he thinks he can be.
16x02 vs 18x07 - Penelope's guilt on display during investigations, when Voit knows the team is onto his container locations and when Tate Andrews dies.
13x20 vs 18x07 - Penelope comparing herself to and identifying with her parent's killer and to Voit.
18x01 vs 18x08 - Penelope and Voit parallelism. Watching each other sleep.
18x06 - Penelope and Voit bonding. She sees good in him. She treats him like a person.
Why Penelope Feels Voit Understands Her (an essay)
Penelope's freakish empathy and how others she cares about interpret it (more just rambling thoughts and less of an essay but I figured I'd share)
13x20 - small picspam of quotes from Penelope about how she wants to make her parents proud, and her parents believed that a big part of love is forgiveness. I didn't even go into this in the above post really, but, this definitely informs a lot of Penelope's personality. Her parents died, she feels responsible for their death, so she lives her life according to the lessons they taught her as much as she can.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This is gonna be a reach but does anyone who speaks Spanish know what Emily is saying to comfort the little girl in season two episode 17: distress? I understand enough to hear her say “Maria, it’s okay,” but not the next bit, and of course there are no subtitles.🙄
This is gonna be a reach but does anyone who speaks Spanish know what Emily is saying to comfort the little girl in season two episode 17: distress? I understand enough to hear her say “Maria, it’s okay,” but not the next bit, and of course there are no subtitles.🙄
"you only like her because shes a woman" yup "you let female characters get away with too much" yes "if a man did this you would hate him for it" indeed
you should feel how i feel when somebody says your name
emily prentiss x f!reader
tags: fluff, single mom!reader, unit chief!emily, kissing, getting together, baby!!!, no use of yn, petnames, momily-adjacent
warnings: mentions of reader breastfeeding
summary: your boss is obsessed with your daughter.
word count: 1.1k
join my taglist
masterlist
a/n: just a silly thing as i procrastinate
read on ao3 or below the cut
Emily appears in that way that she does. Sudden and warm and disconcerting. Probably summoned by the giggles, of course.
Your stomach flips, but you keep your eyes trained on your daughter, sitting happily and babbling away in your lap.
“I thought I heard my favorite laugh,” she says from behind you, a smile that's so clear in her voice you can't help but smile too.
Charlotte, the traitor, reacts immediately. She turns to Emily, raising her little arms in a silent ask. Before you can even react, your boss has her lifted into her arms, breathing in her baby scent.
“Well, hi, sweet girl,” she murmurs in that voice she reserves only for Charlotte. “I didn't know you’d be here today.”
You turn to them, taking in the sight of Emily with your nine month old in her arms, hugging her to her chest. “My mom just dropped her off. She was worried my dad was about to get a cold and didn't want her near.”
Emily looks down at the baby, pouting sweetly, “oh, yes. That's no place for this perfect girl.”
You stand, about to gesture for your daughter back, knowing Emily has to get back to her office. However, she turns, murmuring all the while to Charlotte and starting to walk away.
“Let's go, honey. Your mommy has work to do.”
“Emily?” You call, frowning at her retreating form.
She turns only her face to look at you, “I'll keep her so you can go back to your duties.”
“I thought you had work to do,” you say, or sort of ask.
“I'm the boss, honey,” she calls back, already taking the steps up to her office. “I can do whatever I want.”
After a while of no word from them, and no hungry cries from Charlotte either, you make your way towards Emily's office. The door’s almost closed, but not quite, so you stick your head in.
The view that greets you is heartwarming — to say the least.
Emily is standing, swaying softly from side to side. Charlotte is held against her chest with one arm as the other holds up a file. The little girl's face is hidden in her neck, small fingers gripping the neckline of her silk blouse.
She turns. “Hey,” whispers. “She would cry every time I tried putting her down.”
You smile, “yeah, she does that.”
Emily leans her head on Charlotte’s for a mere second. It's so natural, the way she does it, as if the girl is anchoring her to a possibility she doesn't want to let go of.
“I can take her now,” you say, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. “I should relieve you of your babysitting duties.”
She shakes her head, “she's so comfortable.”
“I thought I’d take her home, if my boss allows it.”
Emily lays down her file, then shifts so she’s supporting the baby with two arms. Humming, “it is a Saturday, after all.”
You lean back against the door, “do you think my boss would like to come have dinner with us?”
The corner of her mouth tilts up in a soft smile, “I think she can be convinced.”
Dinner, of course, consists of Charlotte switching laps so you can both eat. After she finishes her own dinner of scrambled eggs and mashed up avocado, she whines to get out of her chair, wanting to be held constantly. You're better at eating one handed at this point, so you manage to finish most of your meal with her in your lap, until you try three times to get the last bits of pasta on your fork and fail, so Emily takes pity on you.
Emily stays as you bathe Charlotte, sitting on the closed toilet lid and watching as you kneel before the tub. You keep the conversation going, both of you not wanting it to end, which applies to the baby who babbles away as well, figuring she can be included in the subject.
It takes a little bit to put her to bed. You sit on the plush armchair in Charlotte’s room, breastfeeding her until she gets drowsy with sleep. Her late in the day nap was no match for how milk drunk she gets after a feed.
When you come back into the living room, Emily has poured the wine you had talked about earlier.
“I hope you don't mind I went looking into your cabinets,” she gestures to the wine glasses on the coffee table. You wave her off.
“You're a lifesaver.” Dropping on the couch, you immediately take a sip of your drink.
Emily smiles into her glass.
“Sorry I made you come in on a Saturday,” she says. “It seems I can’t do my job well without you.”
You smirk slightly, “I don’t recall you doing a lot of work.”
“I had a pretty girl to look after,” she counters lightly, scooting closer.
“Ah,” you nod. “Should I be worried?”
Emily tilts her head, “I don’t know.” She’s so close now, looking into your eyes like she can’t bear the thought of looking anywhere else. “Do you… have a reason to?”
You shrug a shoulder. She touches your nose with her own, pushing softly to the side. It’s silly, you almost giggle.
She interrupts your laugh by pressing her lips to yours.
Emily kisses like she does most things. Unhurried. Intentional.
She guides your face to where she wants it. She asks for permission with her tongue. It's deep yet it's not quick, she does it like she's learning you, and she does it until she runs out of air.
You're about to say something — maybe ask for it again — when a cry interrupts you. Emily smiles sweetly as you sigh in defeat, whispering you'll be right back.
Coming back with Charlotte in your arms, you ask if she can hold her while you get a bottle ready. Emily quickly puts her wine down and extends her arms, making grabbing motions, softening instantly when the girl cuddles up to her.
Sitting down on the couch, you hand her the bottle in a silent ask. Emily's eyes light up as she takes it from you.
“I thought you still breastfed her?” She guides the bottle to Charlotte's lips, who starts eating happily and relaxed, her little fingers wrapping around the plastic but not bothering to hold it.
“I do,” you say, relaxing back into your seat. You suddenly find yourself really tired. “But I keep milk frozen for when I want a drink.”
Emily nods, completely focused on the little girl's face.
“She doesn't usually wake up in the middle of the night anymore,” you murmur, watching intently as Emily caresses Charlotte's cheek ever so slightly, like she can't believe she's real. “I guess she wanted to hang out with you.”
She lifts her head, beaming as she looks at you. “I love hanging out with her.”
You hum, “just her?”
Grinning, she leans in to leave a peck on your cheek, “I guess you can stay, too.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
• soft!emily who holds your hand when the case you’re working on gets too stressful, sometimes she does it discreetly like under the table or hidden on her lap but other times she does it without caring who sees
• soft!emily who holds you when you can’t fall asleep on your own, her arms keep you steady and safe, the warmth from her body reminds you that you’re not alone and her voice helps grounds you to reality
• soft!emily who’s favourite pet name to call you is “my girl” because she loves nothing more than reminding everyone who you belong to. occasionally she’ll add words like “sweet” and “precious” infront of it, but either way people get the message
• soft!emily who always knows how to calm you down when you’re overwhelmed, if it’s at work she’ll pull you into a quiet space and drop everything until you feel better. if it’s at home, she instantly has you in her arms, shielding you from the world.
• soft!emily who loves to shower with you, she loves taking the time to wash your hair and watch you do the same to her. if you’re having a particularly hard day, she’ll wash you like a mother would for their child, wanting to bring you that comfort
• soft!emily who’s voice turns to velvet when she comforts you, despite not ever admitting it. the moment you tell her you’re upset or if she can read it on your face, she brings out that tone of voice reserved only for you.
• soft!emily who is extra gentle during sex, she makes sure to always ask for consent and once you give her it she proceeds to ask if you are okay or if what she’s doing feels good. afterwards she’ll clean you up and praise you for doing so well
• soft!emily who will happily baby you without shame if that’s what you need. she loves watching your face change into different shades of pink as she coos at you, or calls you “her good girl” or “her beautiful baby” among many others as she holds you tightly
•soft!emily who can’t fall asleep unless she’s touching you in some way, whether that’s fully holding you, foreheads pressed together or an arm draped over your body, she has to have contact. it’s mainly to remind you that she’s still right there with you, protecting you, just in case you were to ever forget during the night
• soft!emily who just wants to love her girl in the way she deserves, to be the one she can rely on when things get hard and most of all to be the one who fights away all the pain because fighting is what emily prentiss does best
I have a hot take that people are not going to like. I don’t think Emily and JJ are that close, at least not anymore. And I think the concept of them getting together now is just because people liked them in OG CM.
Let me explain:
CME has been kinda obviously creating a subtle splitting of the team in terms of who is close to who.
It is JJ, Penelope, and Luke and it is Emily, Rossi, and Tara. Tyler is new to the team and just kinda there.
And obviously they are all family and all there for each other but I mean when it comes to outside of work emotional support.
I mean JJ literally said this episode that Luke and Penelope are the ones who are there for her.
And we see Emily and Tara and Rebecca supporting each other and being together.
Hell, JJ didn’t even know why Emily and Andrew broke up.
Also, for anyone who wants to talk about Will’s funeral and the subsequent episodes and Emily’s support there, let’s talk because it seemed awkward as fuck to me.
Emily was there to support but it wasn’t like when she was there for JJ in seasons past.
Listen, idk what happened and ship whoever you want, I’m all for playing dolls. And lord knows my top ship is Tabecily, but something happened that made the two of them drift apart. And it existed before JJ found out about BAUGate so I know it wasn’t just that.
Sorry, taking this post as an opportunity to speak my truth.
It’s funny how I ship Emily with almost every single woman on the show and yet arguably the most popular ship I couldn’t gaf. I’m sorry y’all I just don’t see it and never have seen how the two of them could be compatible. They are too similar to me. They’re both very emotionally avoidant in various ways, and I just don’t think they would be able to effectively communicate their way through that in order to maintain a healthy relationship dynamic.
Defective and effective✨ @ireadwithmyears - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
