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autisticprentiss · 1 day
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she’s mine. fr. She told me.
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autisticprentiss · 1 month
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i was so fucking sad when i was 14 and now when i fold my laundry or see a pool of moonlight on the floor of my bedroom i know that miracles exist. i see love in everything. love sees everything in me too
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autisticprentiss · 1 month
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Jeanne is rotting my brain once again, so I made this.
Might have to print this one for the office.
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autisticprentiss · 2 months
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by starparkdesigns
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autisticprentiss · 2 months
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So p/atreon is amping up its lockdown on nsfw material, gumroads is amping up its nsfw material-
Pornhub is currently not available in texas.
KOSA keeps coming closer to getting actually passed-
Can people please just admit that nsfw is being driven underground? That adult artists are being banned and pushed out of their spaces?
And dont start saying "oh just the yucky stuff." No, this is *ALL* Nsfw.
We are losing spaces left and right...
Not only that, it feels like we creatives are being killed. And that isnt exactly hyperbolic.
Paypal implemented taxes not that long ago, a hit to those who use it. Artists especially. Midjourney and other ai, stealing artworks, having people think less of artists.
Platforms kicking and banning artists left and right.
It feels like being an indie creator is being choked out of possibility. That you have to be born rich and lucky for your creative dreams to come true.
"oh you're just a porn addict its not that bad"
Its not that bad until your stuff is banned.
We had ROE VS FUCKING WADE thrown out the window. You dont think we could have LGBTQA+ rights thrown out too!?
The internet is becoming SO HOSTILE to creatives of all sorts. Its fucking heartbreaking.
Its like we're entering nsfw prohibition of the internet, buy a 160 dollar keychain for a 'free' picture of a dragon fucking a Volkswagen 😭
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autisticprentiss · 2 months
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PAGET BREWSTER as Emily Prentiss  ↪Criminal Minds | 2x21 Open Season
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autisticprentiss · 2 months
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autisticprentiss · 2 months
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shoutout to offputting autistic people
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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#married (6/?)
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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When Maura sees Angela holding the baby she'd pulled from a dead woman, something inside her breaks.
She doesn't remember ever being held like that. She wonders if Constance ever carried her when she was that small, or if it was the string of nannies she hired. She doubts she'd have had the skin contact to produce the oxytocin so necessary for healthy development.
Had her own birth mother held her? Her birth father? She knows who he is now. She's seen the photos. She thinks he would have, in the same clumsy, loving way he looks at her. Whoever her mother was, he loved her, and he's tried to keep the remnants of Maura's mother safe by keeping Maura safe. He must have loved her. She can't have just been a random woman in the gang; it's not the way a gangster treats women in the business. Paddy loved her mother the way a man loves a woman. The way Maura loves Jane.
She flinches at the thought, the movement catching Angela's eye. She looks up at Maura with the same loving look she's giving the baby, and Maura melts. She'd known, when she suggested it, that Angela would be perfect.
She wishes that she'd had an Angela for a mother, or a kangaroo carer. Maybe she'd be less awkward. Maybe she'd be better adjusted, socially. Maybe she wouldn't always be looking for someone to hold her.
She doesn't hear the door open, she only notices the long arms that wrap around her from behind. Maura melts again.
Before Jane, she hadn't known what it felt like to be held. To be loved.
"You know she's going to be asking us for one of those next," Jane grumbles in Maura's ear, but it's amused rather than resentful. Maura leans back into the warm safety of Jane's body behind her and lets herself enjoy the moment for once. She doesn't need to overthink it, she doesn't need to panic or suggest the most up to date technologies in IVF. She can just soak in the oxytocin the way the baby in Angela's arms is.
"They're calling her Maura. After you," Jane says, her low voice choking up.
This Maura is an orphan too; it makes sense to pass on her name like this. She's touched and honoured. She had no other choice; a life was in danger and she was a doctor. But it's nice that they think of her when they look at this baby, the past repeating itself, perhaps. But this Maura will be held. This Maura will be loved.
Just as much as Maura is now, if not more.
"How soon is it to start trying?" Jane asks, her voice still low. She doesn't pull away when the parents come through, and Angela hands over baby Maura with a kiss on her sweet little head, looking over at them in the observation window with a smirk.
"How soon is now?" Maura asks absently, hearing Jane's breath catch behind her. She lets her fingers run over the back of Jane's hand over her stomach and she covers it with her own.
Every day Maura breaks a little bit. She breaks down the parts of herself that she doesn't think are lovable, because Jane proves they are. Every day.
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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Sports bra is lingerie if you're good enough at gender
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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Hello, would you consider writing a unit chief Emily Prentiss x R story? Where reader has nipple piercings and one day at the air conditioner at the BAU breaks so readers in a tank top so the outline of them is noticeable. And of course Derek is the first to notice so he loudly points it out which draws the teams attention to them, and let’s just say Emily very intrigued with them. You could right smut for it if you want to but if not that’s okay.
The Heatwave
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Words: 4.3k
Warnings: choking, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, strap on, alcohol, piercings
“You can’t be serious. Thursday? In the middle of this heatwave? We’re going to die.”
Listening to Garcia complain to Morgan was not helping you concentrate on the report Emily wanted on her desk. You swiped the back of your wrist along your forehead, wiping away the sweat threatening to drip into your eye. Your hair was tied up, exposing the back of your neck, begging for a breeze to come along. You needed some sweet relief or you might collapse at your desk.
Summer was particularly brutal that year. You’d been sweating on your commute to and from the office, the air con the only thing keeping you going through the day. But yesterday there had been a weird noise, a shudder in the vents and the cold air had stopped. You weren’t you’d managed to dry out since.
Wiping more sweat away, you sighed. Your tank top was doing nothing to save you from the fires of hell licking at your skin. You groaned, head thunking against the desk.
“See? Brink of death already,” Garcia said, standing behind you.
“I’m not dead,” you said, muffled into the wood of your desk.
“Yet. I’m going to have to go flirt with the maintenance guy and he always stares because he knows that I am a prime woman that he can not keep up with,” she said.
“Of course you are, baby girl. Now go work that pretty face of yours,” Morgan said.
You sighed, sitting up again. It’s not as if you’d be getting any work done with them at your desk, and nor could you nap in the heat. Just the feeling of your skin was making you feel insane.
“When are they going to fix this damned thing?” Emily said, striding out of her office, file clutched in her hand. You felt your heart skip a beat. She was hotter than the heatwave you were going through, and even sweaty, she still made you catch your breath. It wasn’t fair how sexy she was when you were a gross mess.
“Thursday,” Garcia called over to her.
“Can’t we do something about that? she asked, striding over to the huddle that had sprung up at your desk.
“Do you want to flirt with the maintenance guy?” Garcia asked.
“The one with the lazy eye or the one who always smells like cheese?” she asked.
“That’s the same person and yes, that one,” she replied.
Emily shook her head, nose wrinkled. Garcia sighed, crossing her arms over her chest then immediately uncrossing them.
“Hey, what’s that on your chest?” Morgan asked, pointing.
You looked down, not able to see anything out the ordinary. You looked back up, finding him staring at your chest. Then it clicked. You knew he’d been too quiet, and you’d been so distracted by Emily that you hadn’t noticed.
“Are you staring at my tits?” you asked him.
“No,” he said, looking up to your eye, “yes.”
You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, much in the way Garcia had. It only pushed your tits up, making them more obvious. Garcia was openly looking, eyebrows drawing together until realisation dawned over her face. Emily’s eyes darted down then up to your face again, tongue darting out to drag along her bottom lip. The tension that had been stretching between the two of you for weeks was making you arch your back just a little, giving her a better view.
“Not that it’s anyone’s business,” you said, trying to not get flustered from the heat in Emily’s gaze, “but I have my nipples pierced.”
You lifted your chin, waiting for one of them to say something. A grin spread over Morgan’s face and you could already hear the comments. You glared, waiting for him to say something.
“The girls like that, huh?” he asked.
“They don’t hate it,” you replied.
You couldn’t bare to look at Emily. You might implode if you did. Her reaction could either make or break your ability to think around her. Although, you were hoping she was one of the girls who didn’t hate it.
“Now, if we’re done talking about my nipples, I believe Garcia has a maintenance man to flirt with so none of us die before Thursday,” you said.
You turned back to your computer, your report waiting for you. You did your best to continue working, feeling the weight of the three people standing behind you slow to move away. You were done talking about it in front of your boss, who happened to be the one person you thought about when your fingers were buried deep within you.
“Turns out flirting with Manny in maintenance did nothing. He’s called a guy from the air conditioning company to come fix it and wouldn’t give me his number so I could flirt with him,” Garcia said, stopping by your desk, “so pool party at Rossi’s tonight. You in?”
“Does he know you’re hosting a pool party at his place?” you asked.
“Of course,” she said, “bring your best bikini.”
It was a relief to change into your bikini after work. The cool brush of air on your skin before you pulled on a pair of shorts and loose t-shirt. The air con in your car was the only thing getting you through the drive, bare thighs sticking to the leather of the seat. You parked, staring up at the big house. You jumped when someone knocked on your window.
“Hey,” you said, stepping out of your car.
“So they roped you into this too, huh?” Emily said, closing the door for you, trapping you against the car. Your eyes flicked down her body, a tank top and jeans covering whatever swimsuit she had on. You hadn’t thought about the possibility of seeing her in one when you’d agreed to come.
“Are you kidding? Free pool and free drinks? Count me in,” you said.
She chuckled, those dark eyes sweeping over you. Your skin felt on fire and you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat wave or from the sexy woman in front of you.
“Earlier, at the office,” she said, that tongue you’d dreamt about dragging along her lower lip, “when you were talking about-“
“Are you two going to stand out there all night or are you going to come get wet?”
You jumped, back hitting the side of your car as you startled. Garcia was standing in the doorway, looking at the two of you like you’d both lost your minds. You laughed, trying to cover the dirty thoughts slipping through your mind at Garcia’s words.
“Come on,” you said.
You slipped past her, body brushing against hers. Her eyes were still trained on you, sweeping over your body, and you were trying your best not to read too much into it. You combed your fingers through your hair, pulling it up into a ponytail to get it off the sticky skin of your neck. With your back to her, you missed the way Emily watched you, eyes darkening and lips pulling up into a smirk.
You were quick to pick up an ice cold beer as you passed through the kitchen, plucking it from the cooler. Derek flung his arm over your shoulders, already dripping from the pool. You wrinkled your nose, shoving his arm off you.
“What took you so long?” Morgan asked, “changing into more pool appropriate jewellery?”
“You keep that up and you’ll never get out of that pool,” you replied.
“Do you have to change them to make them pool safe?” Garcia asked.
“Change what?” Spencer asked, dipping his toe into the pool, trousers rolled up to his ankles.
“My piercings. They’re the big news of the day,” you replied, “we’re not talking about this any more.”
“But you don’t have your ears-“
You shoved Reid in the shoulder. His arms windmilled before he fell forward, a large splash going up, water landing on your bare legs. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the giggles in. They burst from you, unwilling to be contained. He was gasping for air when he emerged from the water, hair plastered to his face.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Emily chided, coming up behind you.
“I told him we weren’t talking about it anymore,” you said.
“Of course you were,” she said.
You weren’t expecting her hands landing on your shoulders, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt. With very little effort, she shoved you backwards, straight into the cold water of the pool. Your shriek was cut off as you went under.
Spluttering, you surfaced from the water. The laughter was surrounding you. You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of the pool, offering a hand to Reid to pull him out after you.
“Alright, point taken,” you said, “can we stop talking about my nipples now?”
“Oh.” Spencer’s face turned into a tomato.
You reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. Wringing it out over the pool, you didn’t notice the way Emily’s eyes were lingering on your bare skin, water dripping down your body. You turned, slinging the shirt over one of the loungers, once again failing to notice how Emily’s eyes lingered where your piercings were pressing up against your bikini top.
“Alright, I’m getting another beer since mine is now at the bottom of the pool,” you said, “spoils to the victors I guess.”
Stripping your sneakers and socks off, you left them on the deck and stepped back into the kitchen. Bending, you rummaged through the ice and the cans for a bottle. You stood, empty handed, disappointment making you sigh.
“Oh, have we already run out?”
You jerked, spinning towards the woman you hadn’t heard follow you. Bumping into her, something cold sloshed over your skin. The bottle held in her hand was sweating in the warm air and the scent of beer was on the air.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said, finger swiping through the beer clinging to your skin, right over the soft skin beside the wet fabric of your bikini.
“It’s alright. It was an accident,” you said, breath catching, heart thudding, skin heating.
“You might want to clean up. We wouldn’t want you to be so…” She raised her dark eyes from where she’d been watching her finger trail through the beer on your skin, “sticky.”
You stumbled back a step from her, heart racing. You had no idea what was going through her head but all you could think was how you wanted her tongue to trace the same route as her finger.
“I’m going to… go wash this off,” you said, slipping past her.
Her eyes followed you out of the room and this time you did notice. You weren’t fleeing but you were strategically retreating or else you might beg her lick you clean. You closed the door, giving yourself room to breathe again.
Turning on the faucet, you dabbed at the trail of drying beer on your skin. When you looked up again you found the door opening and a dark haired figure sliding into the bathroom with you. Your eyes widened when they met Emily’s in the mirror.
“Sorry. I’ll just be a second,” you said.
“No rush,” she hummed.
Reaching around you, she placed the glass bottle down on the edge of the sink, arm brushing against the dip of your waist. You stilled, frozen from how close she was, staring into her face. Lips pulled up into a confident smirk. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding your breath as she seemed to draw even closer.
“I was hoping to get you alone tonight. I have a favour to ask,” she said, voice deepening as her eyes swept down again, focusing on your bare skin and the way your hardened nipples were showing through your bikini top.
“Oh?” you squeaked.
“Will you show me your piercings?” she asked.
You stuttered over an answer, cheeks heating as the thought of showing her filled your head. Your head quickly emptied of thoughts as her finger came up, playing with the string of your bikini. It brushed up over your collarbone before gently running over your pulse point. She watched you as she gently tugged on it, snapping it back against your skin.
“Please?” she asked, voice lowering until it was an intimate whisper.
“Alright,” you said, breathless, desperate, her touch making you a mess with so little effort.
She stepped back, her hand slipping from you. You took a deep shuddering breath, reaching up to slowly pull the knot free. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip as your top slid free, exposing your chest to her. One hand came up, resting against your ribs, steadying you as she stared down at your tits.
“So pretty,” she murmured.
One finger gently tapped on the ball at the end of the bar of one of the piercings. Your sharp inhalation brought her eyes up to yours, smouldering as she did it again. You weren’t aware of arching your back, pushing them towards her but her satisfied smirk was answer enough.
“Does that feel good, princess?” she asked. That nickname sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs.
“Uh huh,” you replied.
She gently tugged on the other, your small whimper making her chuckle.
“Use you words, princess,” she said.
“Feels so good,” you replied.
She did it again, a little rougher. Her name was a soft sigh, arching even further, practically begging her to continue. She complied, both hands playing with the jewellery in your nipples. Your fingers clutched at the counter, holding you up as you lent backwards.
“And what do you say when I make you feel so good?” she murmured, drawing closer.
“Thank you, daddy,” slipped from between your lips, surprising you. Your eyes widened, an apology ready, until you saw the way her eyes darkened, a sharp tug on one piercing then the other making you forget why you should.
She lent forward, breath ghosting over your hardened nipples. You froze, waiting to see what she was about to do. Her pink tongue ran along the length of one bar. Your moan was embarrassing in your ears but her hands were wrapped around your ribs, holding you in place as she did the same thing to the other one. She hummed, doing it again, transitioning from metal to flesh back to metal.
The clack of her teeth against the metal startled you until she tugged again, lips brushing flesh. Your knees were turning to jelly and you were gasping for air, but she held you in place as she played with your jewellery. Your head tipped back, fingers tangling in her dark hair as you pressed her closer. She hummed again, taking your nippled in her mouth, tongue playing with the piercing.
The throbbing between your legs was growing and you could feel how wet you were. You wanted her. You wanted her so badly it was like a physical thing, lodged in your chest. The vibration of her moan while her eyes looked up at you made you make small noise in the back of your throat.
Her teeth closed on the metal, tugging on it to the point of pain curling around the pleasure. The way you moaned her name was filthy, embarrassing in how desperate you were. Her hand was gentle as it skimmed up your body for those long fingers wrapped around your throat. She tugged on your piercing again, fingers tightening just enough for your whine to be quiet.
“Now you’re going to be good for daddy, aren’t you?” she said.
“Yes,” you breathed, not even sure what you were agreeing to.
“Then be good for daddy and turn around.”
You scrambled to follow her instructions, turning to face the mirror. Your eyes were blown wide in the mirror, wild and desperate. Her fingers curled around your throat again, the prettiest necklace you could imagine. With one foot she knocked both of yours apart, her other hand reaching around your body to play with the button of your denim shorts.
“You’re so good at following my instructions,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You felt breathless, and not just from the tightening pressure on your throat.
“Do you see how pretty you are? Looking so lovely for daddy. Wearing such pretty jewellery for me. Flaunting this body. Do you know what you do to me?” she continued, the hand on the waistband of your shorts trailing up, playing with one of your piercings again.
“Those tight little skirts in the office, watching me like you’re just waiting for me to bend you over my desk, asking for discipline. You want me to give you my full attention, don’t you princess?”
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“And that’s why you decided to show off to everyone today, isn’t it? I noticed the way you arched your back, wanting everyone to see these pretty little piercings. Did you want everyone to be imagining what you look like like this, your beautiful body on display, just perfect for my hands to play with? Such a little slut trying to get my attention.”
Her fingers tightened again around your neck. Those dark eyes were watching you, the cocky smirk on her lips only making you shift closer, pressing your hips backwards towards her. You brushed against a bulge in her pants, confusion marring your features before realisation dawned over your face.
“Do you want daddy’s cock, princess?” she asked.
“Yes,” you moaned.
“Then beg for it.”
Her eyes met yours in the mirror, waiting with a patience you did not feel.
“Please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. I need it. I need to feel you inside me. Please,” you pleaded, “please fuck me, daddy. I’ll be so good for you. I want you so much.”
Her hand trailed back down to your shorts, unbuttoning them.
“That’s my good girl,” she said.
She tugged your shorts down, your bikini bottom following close behind. You kicked them away as she tugged her hips back, the bulge in her pants brushing against the bare skin of your ass. A small whine fell from your lips, pressing further backwards.
A finger passed through your folds, gathering your wetness before it ghosted over your clit. If not for the hand still wrapped around your throat, your head would have fallen forward with a small groan. Her throaty chuckle as she teased you only made you whine, begging her for more. She held your eyes in the mirror, finger dipping into your entrance, just barely, stealing your breath again.
“Look at how desperate you are. Such a desperate little slut begging for daddy’s cock. Pretty little whore wanting to please me.”
Her hand disappeared from between your legs and the sound of a zipper made you shiver. The warmth of her body pressed against your back. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the sink, knees turning to jelly.
She held you steady, one hand on your hip as the tip of her strap teased your entrance. She gave a shallow thrust, the strap stroking through your folds. Your breath turned shaky and her fingers tightened just a little bit more, enough that you could only just suck air into your lungs.
“You’re going to make such a mess on daddy’s cock. You’re dripping. Is all this for me?”
“Yes,” came out as a strangled groan, “all for you.”
“That’s my good girl.”
She was slow to push into you, so controlled in contrast to how desperation burned through your veins. Her dark eyes were watching you in the mirror, cataloguing the way pleasure rippled over your face and a moan fell from your lips. She pushed in to the hilt, hips flushed with yours. Pausing there, she let you feel how perfectly she filled you. You wriggled your hips, wanting more, the throbbing more than you could deal with.
“Use your words, princess,” she chided, holding you still.
“Please fuck me, daddy. Please,” you whined, “need you so bad.”
“Good girl.”
She pulled out until only the tip of the cock was left before slamming into you. The cry that left your lips would have embarrassed you if a wave of pleasure wasn’t rolling over you. Your fingers clenched, holding on tight as she dragged the strap out, pausing for too long before plunging in again.
The pace she set was relentless. Harsh and rough, she maintained eye contact with you, fingers clenching around your throat the moment it looked as if you were about to look away. Her other hand was finding its home between your thigh, circling your clit, a slow contrast to her thrusts. The mumbled encouragements in your ears were only setting fire to your bloodstream.
“You’re taking it so well for daddy,” she murmured, “such a pretty pussy hungry for daddy’s cock. My little cock slut.”
“Thank you, daddy,” you sighed.
“So polite.” She sounded so pleased with you.
You moaned as her pace picked up, slamming into you. Her thumb was grinding down on your bundle of nerves and you could feel her panting breath against your skin. Her hand was tightening around your throat, cutting off your air supply. You watched her in the mirror watching you. You met her thrust for thrust, pressing your hips back to hers. You felt so full with her inside of you, her cock emptying your head of anything but her and the way she made you feel hazy with pleasure.
“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimpered.
“No cumming without permission, princess,” she told you, not bothering to slow her pace.
You did your best, holding yourself back, trying so hard not to orgasm. You wanted to be her good girl. To do what she asked you. To please her.
“Look at how pretty your pussy is when I fuck into it. It was made for my cock, wasn’t it, princess? Made just for me to use,” she murmured, hips driving into you.
She wasn’t holding back. She was watching you, so closely, making sure you followed her instructions. From the curl of her lips she knew how hard you were trying and how difficult she was making it for you. Each thrust of her cock hit that place within you that made your legs tremble and your blood sing. Over and over, thumb grinding, the pleasure was turning painful as you held yourself back.
“Please, daddy. Need to cum so bad,” you begged, tears beginning to gather in the corner of your eyes.
“Not yet, princess. Keep making daddy feel good,” she said, “you’re doing so well for me.”
You sobbed, so close to coming undone but determined to be a good girl for her. She kept pounding into you, her praise only making it harder to hold on. With a tight grip, she cut off your air supply completely. Her eyes found yours in the mirror again, and her lips ticked up into a smirk.
“Okay, cum for me, princess,” she said.
It crashed into you the moment you let it. Pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. You sobbed out your thanks, hips stuttering as you felt yourself begin to collapse forward. The hand around your throat kept you up as she fucked you through the orgasm.
She released you, letting you fall over the sink. Her thrusting slowed until she was sheathed within you, holding you, hands gentle until you caught your breath. Sweat slicked your skin and your breathing was uneven, but when you looked in the mirror your eyes were bright and your smile lazy.
“You were so good for me, princess. Such a good girl. So perfect for me,” she praised, “you did so well.”
She pulled out of you, the feeling of being full disappearing with her. She lowered you onto the edge of the bath, so gentle. Looking up, still with her tank top on and the cock between her legs, you found yourself staring. She’d just made you cum harder than ever in your life and you wanted her to touch you again.
With sure hands, she wetted a flannel before kneeling in front of you, cleaning the sticky arousal from your skin. You melted, watching her clean you up. You reached out, running your hand through her hair. She smiled up at you, fingers trailing over the skin of your legs. Her lips pressed to the inside of your knee and you softened.
“Was that okay?” she asked, “were you okay with that?”
“More than.” You lent forward, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Emily. This was basically my dream coming true.”
“Mine too,” she said, looking up at you.
“Maybe we could do this again,” you said, doing your best not to worry she was about to tell you this was a one time thing. She pushed the hair that had fallen from your ponytail behind your ear.
“Oh, we’re definitely doing this again,” she said, raising from her knees, “I plan on having you in every way possible.”
You heated at the thought. She tucked her strap on back into her trousers, pulling them up and re-buttoning them. She lent forward again, catching your chin between thumb and forefinger. Her lips pressed to yours, so quick it left you wanting more.
“Enjoy the beer, princess,” she said, tapping on the ball of one of your piercings, making you hiss, “you’ve earned it.”
She slipped out of the bathroom, leaving you alone to redress and try to not look like you’d just been fucked in Rossi’s bathroom. The smile on your face was a dead give away. You fixed your ponytail and pulled on your damp clothes, watching yourself in the mirror. Picking up the bottle left for you, you took a long drink from it, your lips where Emily’s had been not so long ago. Your smile refused to dim.
Maybe the heatwave wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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bonus
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aka 911 characters as memes from tiktok slideshows 🙈
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autisticprentiss · 3 months
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Criminal Minds 3.4 'Children of the Dark'
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Criminal Minds 16.7 'What Doesn't Kill Us'
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