#ryland grace#phm#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Maldives
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China
In my evil lair plotting. You can't even comprehend what I'm getting up to. If only there were some morally good hero to stop me from blowing up all those orphanages in themed explosions.
shape 'sploring
“Living for Numskulls”
A dark comedy(?) series with short episodes involving an undead guy (or various undead characters) experiencing different events of simple life, including breathing, communicating, and even falling in love, all under the voiceover of a “guiding” narrator.
Rated TV-PG-DLSV/10+.
(May occasionally be TV-14/14+.)
Carry on My Wayward Daughter - Chapter 5
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: La Femme Nikita Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Michael Samuelle/Nikita Wirth Characters: Michael Samuelle, Nikita Wirth Additional Tags: Season/Series 03, Strip Tease, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Playful Sex, Developing Relationship, Consensual Voyeurism, Michael loves Nikita, Nikita's in love with Michael too Summary: Perform for me. A striptease that’s just for them.
----
“Take me back to your place, Michael.”
His evening out with Nikita had been enjoyable and easy. Both the food and conversation warmed him. Their walk along the river among the bouquinistes was pleasant but almost a little too public.
Michael craved privacy and more time where he could continue to be the center of Nikita’s attention. It was selfish, yes, but he wanted something for himself. So, when she had turned to him, the sparkling lights of the street lamps haloing Nikita’s hair with fairy lights, and made her simple request, Michael quietly ushered her back to his car.
Michael’s loft cannot be found in the city center. Instead, his home in one of Paris’ outer arrondissements afforded him the closest thing to privacy in a city filled with the vibrancy of city life.
His furnishings, spartan. His possessions, few, but Nikita has enjoyed leafing through the assortment of music he has collected.
“It’s a nice peak into a different part of you,” she’d once commented as she held up a record by The Smiths.
Continue reading here
@peta-wilson
