i started watching this yesterday

anonymous asked:

I started watching Containment yesterday and just finished watching it, and cried like three times in the span of ten minutes and I just really want more Jake Riley imagines {more smut than anything else 😋} ps love your writing ❤️❤️❤️

Jake smut is what I live for

Sense8 is my life

I thought this show would be another one of those shows that sound good, and start off good, but make me stop watching halfway through.  I was so wrong.  Yesterday I started watching this show, and there’s no words to describe how amazing it is.  You absolutely HAVE to watch it.  And here’s some reasons why:


Originally posted by onehundredsun


Originally posted by ohh-neguinha


Originally posted by stripperanakin


Originally posted by jessespikmans

Originally posted by debnamcarevs

Originally posted by shimssi


Originally posted by mufalo

Originally posted by wrxesy

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

Originally posted by theflavourofyourlips


Originally posted by welcometoyouredoom

Originally posted by genderbinaryisforlosers


Originally posted by netflixsense8gifs

Originally posted by derekihale


Originally posted by bellamyhalpert

Originally posted by tarjeisandviks

Originally posted by gifthetv

“But then you sent me a vision of a man with a large…. *Struggles to find a word* junk

Originally posted by gifsense8


Originally posted by downeyjrs

Originally posted by netflixsense8gifs

Originally posted by lizzie-mcguire

Originally posted by gifsense8

Originally posted by scaredofuhlek


Originally posted by agent-69

Originally posted by caryled

Originally posted by seriestvquotes

Originally posted by hermiunes

Originally posted by wllsgorski





I would go on an on, but this post is getting quite long.  So i’m just gonna say.  Watch this.  You will not regret it


figured a good way to kick off takane month 2017 was w/ a screenshot redraw of the exact moment i fell in love with her

SugarDaddy!Cal Pt. 8

Okay, okay I know this is long over due and I’m sorry. At first it was cause of school, but then I started binge watching on Netflix all day yesterday, but this is extra long and cute and angsty. Keep in mind that half of this was written at two in the morning after I was done crying from finishing the last episode of 13 reasons why. (Yall needa go watch that shit) I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, y'all know I need 100 notes for part 9 and leave feedback💕

One more thing…Ik it probably doesn’t make sense but I’m gonna pretend like this takes place after like a month from the last time they met.

**WARNING**: Nothing really, just a make out and a small mention of masturbation.

One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/
Sixteen/ Seventeen/ Eighteen/ Nineteen/Twenty{END}

“Cal, can you not.” You snorted as he tried to squeeze into the tight fitting top you picked out not too long ago.

“I can get in it, I swear.” He grunted while attempting to get the small shirt over his shoulder.

He had took you shopping once again and as always he came into the dressing room with you. This particular time, however, Calum got so bored he decided to try on clothes as well. You didn’t have a problem with that, but he could at least try on something in his size.

“You’re gonna rip it.” You laughed.“ Then you’ll have to buy it just to throw away.”

“I’m going to get in this shirt, Y/N.”

“Oh my God.” You began to laugh harder at his determination, deciding to try on another article of clothing for your sake.“ I think these shorts are gonna make my ass pop.”

“It already pops, Y/N. Your ass is fucking perfect.” He absentmindedly complimented you.

“Take off the shi-”

“I got it!” He yelled once he finally got the top onto his body, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement.

It was quiet as you both heard the sound of fabric tearing. You placed your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter and Calum’s cheeks slowly flushed pink.

Keep reading


It’s one thing to question your mind. It’s another to question your eyes and ears. But then again, isn’t it all the same? Our senses just mediocre inputs for our brain? Sure, we rely on them, trust they accurately portray the real world around us. But what if the haunting truth is they can’t? That what we perceive isn’t the real world at all, but just our mind’s best guess? That all we really have is a garbled reality, a fuzzy picture we will never truly make out?

(AU where Regina is still Snow’s stepmother and their relationship has always been terrible and then Leopold dies when Emma’s 3 and leaves her his fortune, everything to go to her when she comes of age, and Regina is livid and that’s when it gets really bad, first just snide remarks and so Snow and David stop going to visit (it’d only ever been out of some sense of obligation, she’s still family after all) but then it’s revealed that, should anything happen to Emma, the money would pass to Regina, and that’s when the random hang ups start, that’s when Snow and David move the first time, and there’s never anything to lead back to Regina, nothing but strange things like phone calls at 2 in the morning and getting home and swearing there hadn’t been a pen on the counter there, that they hadn’t left the windows open, little things that don’t amount to anything but Snow knows her stepmother and so they go, never staying one place long - 

And as Emma gets older it gets worse - strange men trying to get Emma from school but she never goes and the teachers have been warned about things like this - the house getting broken into - strange cars driving by or staying parked outside - 

And so the moves continue. 

Keep reading


A little thank you to all of you who have been so incredibly supportive this week. You’re the motivation that keeps me writing.

The air outside was sweltering, the heavy heat of the day pressing down on her like a fist. Humidity had never been Michonne’s favorite natural occurrence when she had lived in a world of air conditioning. After the turn, it was nearly unbearable. She took a break from patrolling, lowering herself to the cool grass beneath a tree, resting her back against the bark. Alexandria was quiet today. She sighed, willing her body to relax.


Michonne flicked her eyes open to be met with the sight of Carl standing in front of her. His face was obscured in part by his hat, in part by the long hair that was becoming a source of contention between he and his father.

“Hey Carl,” Michonne smiled at her adopted son, gesturing for him to take a seat beside her. Carl dropped down, his lanky limbs folding beneath him. She took in the wrinkles between his eyebrows, an expression she was well-versed in seeing on another face. “Something on your mind?” she asked.

“Can I ask you something?” Carl fiddled with a blade of grass, pushing it absentmindedly between his fingers.

“Of course,” she sat up slightly, tilting her head in his direction.

“Do you and Dad fight?” he exhaled his question all in one breath, his eye flickering to meet hers for the briefest of moments.

“Are you talking about what happened this morning?” Michonne was embarrassed even thinking about the situation. A sink full of unwashed dishes had launched a squabble that brought a blush to her cheeks. It seemed absurd to argue over a pile of dirty bowls. Even here at the end of the world, pettiness was not beneath either of them.

Carl swallowed, intent on studying the thin blade of grass lying in his palm. “Does that happen a lot?”

“Every now and again,” she admitted, watching Carl carefully. “It happens when two strong-willed people fall in love.”

“Do you fight a lot?” the questions continued.

“No,” it was the truth. “There’s enough going on out there to fight,” she gestured beyond the high walls in front of them. “You know that.”

“I do,” Carl met her eyes at last. “It’s just…” he began to tear at the foliage in his hands. “Dad used to fight a lot with my Mom.”

Michonne paused. She had never known Lori, never had the opportunity to meet the woman who brought two of her favorite human beings on Earth into existence. From what she could glean, the union of Carl’s birth parents had never been particularly blissful. Whispers of their contentious relationship had reached Michonne’s ears even at the prison.

“I can’t promise you that your dad and I will never fight,” Michonne began carefully, keeping her tone airy. “But I can promise you that we’re partners. Even when we disagree, I’m still with him. Even when he’s being a slob.” She chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

“You would tell me, if you started fighting?” Carl looked so earnest that Michonne felt her heart clench.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to tell.” She reached for her son then, dragging him towards her. Carl let the grass fall from his hands, hugging her instead. Michonne squeezed him tightly, kissing him on the top of his hat. “Where’s your dad?” she asked, tugging gently at Carl’s hair.

“He’s still at home,” Carl gestured behind him. “I think he’s waiting on you.”

Michonne rose to her feet at once, pulling Carl up behind her. “Isn’t Enid in town? Shouldn’t you be with her?” She delighted in the blush that rose at once on her son’s cheeks.

“I will. I just had to drop Judith off with Tara. And I wanted to check on you first.” He looked embarrassed again, his eye drifting back down.

Michonne grinned fondly at him. “Tell Enid I say ‘hello’,” she instructed, straightening Carl’s hat.

“Where are you going?” his final question was directed at Michonne’s back as she started up the street.

“Home,” she smiled at the grin on Carl’s face as she walked off.

The front door of the house was thrown wide open, attempting to coax in a breeze. Michonne removed her shoes as she crossed the threshold, tugging the door firmly closed behind her and throwing the bolt. The smell of cleaning supplies tickled her nose.

“Rick?” she called out curiously, her bare feet padding against the hardwood floors. She located him in the kitchen, his back bowed over the counters, his arm pumping furiously. She continued her silent approach, taking advantage of his position to wrap her arms around him.

“Michonne,” he spun around, surprise clear on his face. A sponge dropped from his hand, landing with a dull wet splash on the counter.

“You cleaned,” she swept her eyes over the kitchen. It hadn’t been this spotless since they moved in.

“I’m sorry about the thing with the dishes,” Rick started in immediately, rumbling out an apology in his rough accent. “I get why you’re upset. I promise, I’m going to start pulling my weight. I’ll get to the bathroom next—“

Michonne cut him off with brusque kiss, pulling his heated body into hers. His skin was flushed from the heat of the day, coupled with what had obviously been a morning of intense labor.

“I love you,” she declared this against his lips when they came up for air, cupping his face between both of her hands.

He smiled, still somewhat unsure. “I know that. I love you too.” He licked his lips nervously.

“Good,” she released him, taking a step back. “Then you’ll help me with something?”

“Anything,” his sharp eyes followed her as she slowly fiddled with the buttons of his shirt.

“I cleaned our bathroom yesterday,” she started, warmth flooding her as Rick watched her eagerly. “But it’s a hot day. We should probably clean you up next.” She bit her lip, running her hands along his arms.

Rick’s eyes darkened immediately, his voice dropping in timbre. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Come upstairs with me and find out,” she challenged.

She turned on her heels and ran, leading Rick to their bathtub with a giggle.

Originally posted by macheteandpython