a lifetime of movies

Obscure-ish Ways to Charge Spells (Mostly Crystals)
  • Hold onto your crystals, spell jar, or other bit of witchery while watching a film that riles you up emotionally. (personally, I find Lifetime movies to be perfect for this)
  • If you’re one of those people who meditate before bed (and, like me, fall asleep promptly afterwards), either hold onto your crystals in your palms or keep them in your pajama pockets.
  • If you work retail (or any other similarly aggravating job), carry or wear a crystal around your neck and focus all your annoyance into it instead of getting fed up. It cooks up a solid frenzy of energy, perfect for a small hex, curse, or otherwise petty spell.
  • Sing to your spell.
  • Scream. Just fucking scream at your fucking rocks.

I’m ready for the inevitable Lifetime movie called Fyre Island where rich white kids do talking head interviews and they have Instagram models giving their testimony too but they do the voice changer and put them in a shadow and theres the dramatic reenactment following a guy named Chad fighting dogs and stuff and the token “I sold my kidney to come here and went bankrupt” character to solicit empathy for everyone

MOVIE COMPILATION

SO, I finally got around to compiling a list of some of my favorite movies that focus on either nymphets, Teacher/Student relationships, or just age gap relationships. Keep in mind that these are all movies I have WATCHED. I am aware there are more movies out there that fall into these categories but I haven’t gotten around to them. If you want to recommend any to me, please send me an ask or message! If you click on the movie title it will direct you to its corresponding IMDb. The movies marked with a “♡” are linked straight to their movie so you can actually watch them. Feel free to dig around for them if it’s not up to your standard. Also some of these movies are on Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime Video, or YouTube so please check there first. Lastly, yes some of these are Lifetime or made-for-TV movies. Yes they are cheesy and YES I STILL LOVE THEM.

Anyways, without any further ado, here is a list of movies I recommend for the topics listed above:

*These are movies that don’t necessarily revolve around the subjects listed but they contain a very small part of it or overall fit the “aesthetic”.

P.S. No I did not forget Lolita, I just haven’t watched it nor do I plan to until I read the book.

Ask me my top threes:
  • 1: Top 3 ice cream flavors
  • 2: Top 3 Disney Movies
  • 3: Top 3 vacation destinations
  • 4: Top 3 places to shop
  • 5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take
  • 6: Top 3 make up products
  • 7: Top 3 music artists
  • 8: Top 3 spices/herbs
  • 9: Top 3 drinks
  • 10: Top 3 apps to use
  • 11: Top 3 months of the year
  • 12: Top 3 clothing items
  • 13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows
  • 14: Top 3 romantic dates
  • 15: Top 3 kinds of flower
  • 16: Top 3 christmas movies
  • 17: Top 3 OTPs
  • 18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life
  • 19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself
  • 20: Top 3 kinds of candy
  • 21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active
  • 22: Top 3 spirit animals
  • 23: Top 3 petnames
  • 24: Top 3 books read outside of school
  • 25: Top 3 most used websites
  • 26: Top 3 people you last texted
  • 27: Top 3 hashtags you use
  • 28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow
  • 29: Top 3 guilty pleasures
  • 30: Top 3 summer activities
  • 31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle
  • 32: Top 3 aesthetics
  • 33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars
  • 34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself
  • 35: Top 3 celebrity crushes
  • 36: Top 3 books from your childhood
  • 37: Top 3 accents to hear
  • 38: Top 3 scents
  • 39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes
  • 40: Top 3 cupcake flavors
  • 41: Top 3 fruits
  • 42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from
  • 43: Top 3 sports teams to watch
  • 44: Top 3 crayola colors
  • 45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college
  • 46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read
  • 47: Top 3 people you miss right now
  • 48: Top 3 fears
  • 49: Top 3 favorite literary devices
  • 50: Top 3 pet peeves
  • 51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive
  • 52: Top 3 bad habits
  • 53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have
  • 54: Top 3 types of foreign food
  • 55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime
  • 56: Top 3 dog breeds
  • 57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies
  • 58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak
  • 59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television)
  • 60: Top 3 pizza toppings
  • 61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to
  • 62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas
  • 63: Top 3 awards you want to win
  • 64: Top 3 emojis
  • 65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning
  • 66: Top 3 authors
  • 67: Top 3 historical figures
  • 68: Top 3 baby names
  • 69: Top 3 DIYs
  • 70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors
  • 71: Top 3 songs of this month
  • 72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked
  • 73: Top 3 villains
  • 74: Top 3 Cities you want to see
  • 75: Top 3 recipes you want to try
  • 76: Top 3 dream jobs
  • 77: Top 3 lucky items
  • 78: Top 3 traditions you have
  • 79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid
  • 80: Top 3 harry potter characters
  • 81: Top 3 lies you were told
  • 82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now
  • 83: Top 3 turn ons
  • 84: Top 3 turn offs
  • 85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read
  • 86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier
  • 87: Top 3 spongebob episodes
  • 88: Top 3 places to be in the world
  • 89: Top 3 things you'd do differently
  • 90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood
  • 91: Top 3 meals you love
  • 92: Top 3 kinds of tea
  • 93: Top 3 embarrassing moments
  • 94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate
  • 95: Top 3 things to do in the rain
  • 96: Top 3 things to do in the snow
  • 97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o
  • 98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see
  • 99: Top 3 art mediums
  • 100: Top 3 museums you've been to
  • 101: Top 3 school memories
  • 102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss
  • 103: Top 3 pick up lines
  • 104: Top 3 sports to watch
  • 105: Top 3 taylor swift songs
tmz.com
Zac Efron as Ted Bundy Could be Movie Role of a Lifetime, Says Bundy's Lawyer
Zac Efron taking on the role of Ted Bundy.

Zac Efron taking on the role of Ted Bundy is such dead-on casting, it could be the role Zac is ultimately remembered for … according to the man who defended the infamous serial killer.

John Henry Browne, Bundy’s lawyer in the ‘70s and early '80s, tells TMZ … Efron’s background as a charming heartthrob gives him an edge tapping into Bundy’s persona – the smooth talking, good looking guy who seduced young women.

That’s the easy part, though. Browne says Zac’s real challenge will be capturing the Bundy’s “essence of evilness.” He says if Zac can nail that, it would be such a departure … it could make his career.

The lawyer says he had meetings about turning his book, “The Devil’s Defender,” into a TV series … and Efron’s name also came up then.

As for which Bundy flick will be better – Efron’s “Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile” or Mark Harmon’s 1986 TV movie, “The Deliberate Stranger” – Browne’s picking Zac.

But only because Harmon’s script kinda sucked.

10

SHIPS MEME:
‘a ship from a book’
↳ Cathy & Chris (The Dollanganger Series)

Angel, saint, devil’s spawn, good or evil, you’ve got me pinned to the wall and labeled as yours until the day I die. And if you die first, then it won’t be long before I follow. 

Punk (Chap. 1)

Originally posted by in-perfectenschlag

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 1871

Warnings: Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….

A/N:  So this is what I work on when I get blocked writing Nobody.  It’s supposed to be angsty and funny and fluffy (maybe a tad naughty at some point idk).  I hope you enjoy the first part!



“Morning, sunshine,” Tony greeted you as you slogged into the kitchen with a scowl.  Your (Y/H/C) was sticking up in random, knotted directions from tossing and turning all night, and dark bags hung under your puffy (Y/E/C) eyes.  

“Uhnnngg,” you groaned as you poured yourself a sizeable cup of coffee.  Tony was one of those ‘happy morning people’.  You hated him.  And his stupid face.  But his coffee was good so you let him live.

Keep reading

When I was 17 I started writing this weird fanfic where Kagome runs from the feudal world pregnant, and Inuyasha unaware lets her thinking it’s what she wants because she doesn’t want him. They’re both making the worst mistakes of their life and Kagome gives birth over in the modern world but throughout the 9 months, she relies completely on Hojo’s friendship and support. Inuyasha has no idea he is a father.
Kagome is afraid of having the baby in a hospital because the baby might be born with demon characteristics and she wants to protect her.
She has it at the house with her family and Hojo is there, having learned everything he could about home births in the short time.
Kagome asks Hojo to care for the baby and then she passes away. Nothing anyone could do but Hojo blames himself.
Some years pass and Hojo has since flown through medical school with a focus on animal sciences, so that he doesn’t have to ever take the little girl to the hospital. He loves her and takes care of her and Kagome’s family. He goes through the growing pains of raising a motherless dog demon child. Lots of ramen boxes in his pantry, lots of hats, lots of nail clippers, and reports from school of starting fights.
Kagome’s grandfather passes, Sota is in college, Kagome’s mother in her old age is traveling the countryside on Hojo’s encouragement.
And Inuyasha comes back because he’s a dude who just can’t get Kagome off his mind after ten years.
But instead he finds Hojo, living with a kid who has dog ears in the shrine.
Commence the awkwardness, tension, and tears. I was a dramatic kid…

anonymous asked:

Can you do a pref where you and Harry are having a serious fight, but mutually decide to put up a happy front around others. And everyone buys it, but one of the other guys notices that somethings wrong between you two. And he pulls you away and is like "spill" and you confess everything and you break down crying

This was no-doubt the worst fight of your relationship.

“You can’t just leave me and Darcy here while you go shoot a six month movie in France!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. Harry tightens his jaw, and he basks in his silent fury while you go on and say, “We’re in a marriage, Haz! That means you can’t just pick up and leave anytime you want to!”

“This isn’t anytime, though!” Harry yells, fist colliding with the wall. You filch visibly, but that doesn’t stop him from scaring you. “This is a once and a lifetime opportunity! My movie screen debut! I could win an oscar or–”

You sigh exasperatedly, “Do you hear yourself!” You tear your fingers through your hair and your breathing becomes laboured. “You’re saying a goddamn oscar is more important to you than me and Darcy.”

“AT LEAST AN OSCAR WON’T LEAVE ME!” Harry screams and the plaster on the wall crumbles under his fist. 

Your chest heaves up and down and a moment of silence goes by before you whisper, “That was two years ago, Styles. And I didn’t leave you. I just thought it would be better for all of us if Darcy and I lived with my parents while you were on your tour, so she wouldn’t keep asking where daddy was–”

FUCKING EXCUSES!” He screams, and you start crying. You didn’t understand why he was so furious at you. He takes a step closer to you, teeth grinding. His voice lowers to a deadly whisper, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t love you so much because I’m giving you everything you need to rip out my heart and let me bleed out.”

Your eyes crinkle at the sides, and you fold your arms over your chest. “So you’re saying you regret falling in love with me?”

Harry looks at you, right in the eye, for the first time that night. He can see how much his answer will impact your next actions, so he takes a few moments to think his answer through. But apparently he’s too blinded by rage to choose wisely because he says, “I don’t regret falling in love with you. I regret taking that love and letting it control my life.”

You furrow our eyebrows and shake your head slowly, vision blurred with tears. “You don’t mean that,” you give him another chance to change his answer.

But his eyes are still trained on yours as he says, “I do.”

And just like that, the two words that started your marriage are the same words that are ending it.

WE’RE HOME!”

Both of you wince as you hear the door swing open and the sounds of your four-year-old daughter Darcy being carried by Louis, who is followed closely by Niall and Liam, fill the living room.

You quickly rush over to the sink, rinsing our face to make it appear as if the wetness of your cheeks came from a facial wash. Harry quickly hangs a calendar over the hole in the wall he had created, and is quick to walk out to greet the guests.

Struggling to hold back tears, you watch as Harry greets Darcy with a kiss on the cheek. How can somebody who regrets having their own daughter still smile at her? 

“Hey Y/N.” You turn around to see Liam exiting the kitchen, a glass of cold Cola in his hand. His eyebrows knit together as he sees the red outlining your eyes. “Is there anything wrong?”

At those words, Harry quickly turns to you, and you hesitate as you tell Liam, “No…I just got soap in my eye…that’s all.” Your husband turns back around and rocks Darcy back and forth in his arms as he and Niall discuss sports. Liam’s eyes are still trained on you, however, and he’s not buying your lie. 

“Come on,” Liam pulls you by the elbow, abandoning his glass on the kitchen counter as he leads you into the downstairs bathroom. He locks the door, and whispers, “Spill.”

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to pass off as cool. “Nothing’s wrong, Liam. Just soap in my eye, like I told you–”

“Bull,” he calls you out. “Y/N, do you know overtime you lie your cheeks heat up?”

You feel them heating up now. “What? No they don’t,” you try but fail miserably. Huffing out a breath, you confess, “Fine. Harry and I had a fight.”

He didn’t have to prompt you for you to break down crying, “And he said he regrets letting our relationship play such a big role in his life. That means he regrets marrying me, having Darcy, and–”

“Harry would never say that,” Liam interrupts you, baffled. “He’s not that kind of dude.”

“Well…he did.”


Liam storms out of the bathroom, and points an accusing finger at Harry. “Styles, you selfish–” about to say bastard, but sees Darcy peering up at him curiously, so he settles for “–respectful, successful, talented man.”

Harry looks more confused than ever, but when Louis steps in to take Darcy upstairs to the loo, his eyes find yours and he sighs deeply. “Liam, whatever Y/N told you–”

“Is true,” he interrupts. “How could you say those things to her? And mean them?”

“I–”

“Liam, you’re not our couple therapist,” you step in and shoot a sad smile at him. “Thanks for trying, though.” You turn to your husband, and your expression immediately hardens. 

“Go shoot that fucking film, Darcy and I can survive without you.”


i’m writing a sequel but don’t rush me darling xx

An Essay about LGBTQ+ representation and art, tied up with a bit of a tribute to Stephanie Rice.

I haven’t written something like this in quite a while. But I’ve been thinking a lot this past month about stories (even more than usual). So please be patient with all the caffeinated rambling I have to do here. 

Needing to tell stories is something I have always known. There’s not a point in my life that I can look back on and not find in my younger self the intense will to put words and worlds, experiences and characters on paper. I’m sure this is a thing many artists and storytellers would say about their own lives. It’s the heart hammering, hand shaking need to find an outlet for experiences, passion, compassion and emotion that answers every “how did you know you wanted to do this” question with a “because I had to.”

Being gay is something that I haven’t always known. And yes, I can look back on my life and point to moments and insecurities and road bumps that came from having always been gay. But I haven’t always known. Knowing came later. Knowing came with combined fear and confidence and the ability to eventually shatter the brick walls I’d built to hold my shoulders upright, in order to look at myself more clearly. And then I knew, and now it’s as though I always have.

I spend a lot of time thinking about my experience coming out and the experiences of other LGBT people around me, and young kids who have come out and are coming out every day, either in quiet moments to themselves, or in one big fight with their families, or again and again each day to that Uber driver or that woman next to you on the plane, or your hair dresser who always asks who you’re dating. I spend a lot of time thinking about how that experience can be made easier, how kids can be received with more love, how we can better learn who we are before the years of self doubt. And no matter how much I think about anything, I am almost always brought back to the same two ways to fix anything. 1. Through giving and compassion and 2. Through art and stories. 

With each generation in the LGBTQ community, the groundwork is laid for the ones that follow. From fighting for our right to live and be seen, to demonstrating that we’re just like everyone else, the generations before mine have laid a foundation that I am fortunate and humbled to stand on. In that light, I really and truly believe that it will be my generation that brings us alive, as a community, through art, that tells stories and writes songs so that generations after us can see themselves a little sooner, can look up to more than just a handful of queer artists, can grow up knowing and with families who know that there is no one normal, no cookie cutter sexuality, no right experience. 

I have few memories of experiencing media that was specifically gay, growing up. But one of the clearest I do have is watching Pretty Little Liars with my mom. I grew up in liberal Massachusetts, outside Boston with loving, accepting parents. Even still, I can vividly remember a time when Emily, a then high school student on the show kissed her girlfriend and my mother explained that she just “didn’t like to see it” that it was fine and she had “nothing against it” but “she’s just a little girl” and she didn’t want to think about it. I’m sure my mom’s response wasn’t different from many others. So often, the world is okay with kids being queer but not okay with showing them a world of experiences like theirs beforehand. My mom is one of the most loving people I know and I tell this story with a fondness. She’s always been accepting of who I am. I’ve always been safe and supported. There’s a chance she doesn’t even remember this moment because she loves me for who I am. But when all is said and done those moments happen all the time and they pile up and they mean something. They mean something because there are young kids, across the country, across the world, in less loving houses, with less accepting parents, who don’t have the word for what they feel for years and years, who are sheltered from seeing Emily Fields kiss girls on TV, who watch their parents turn off movies if two boys are in love. Those kids hear song after song on the radio where girls sing about boys and boys sing about girls. They’re raised on fairytales and animated films about Princesses who marry Princes or don’t marry at all. They flounder, they search, they look for themselves here and there and everywhere and they come up empty handed. They come up with one song by a niche band that no one else listens to, or one sad lifetime movie about a woman’s dead gay son, or one lesbian on a TV show who inevitably ends up dead. 

It’s my understanding that art is never meaningless. That culture and stories are what shape who we are, our worldview, our communities. It’s my understanding that when we diversify those stories we begin to change the world, stone by stone, kid by kid. 

Often, I hear other LGBTQ people talk about not wanting to be defined by being gay or bi or trans. But the more I grapple with it and the more I exist in this world, living in LA, working in television, fighting for my chance to tell stories, the more I want to scream it. I’m gay. I’m gay. I’m gay. I’m gay. Because maybe if I yell it loud enough some kid will hear it and say “hey me too.” Because maybe if I pour that pride and pain and passion into my art it will reach their television some day, their home, their couch, and even if it doesn’t change their dad’s mind, it might make them feel less alone or give them the right words for the pain and passion that they feel. 

I never watched The Voice before last year. I turned on season 11, at random, because I wanted to watch Alicia Keys be a coach. At some point, I stopped. It was fun but these aren’t the kind of shows that feel like they’re for me. They feel like they’re for corn fed, middle America, fighting over this pleasant looking man or that palatable country singer. And while I’m a creative who appreciates the rise and fall and hopes and dreams of other creatives as stories, these weren’t ones I was ever invested in. This year, I again turned the show on to watch season 12. Only to watch the auditions because those are fun and I get one more season with Alicia Keys. I remember the moment the show played Stephanie Rice’s backstory. I was watching it with one of my good friends. I remember we both perked up a little more when we saw her holding hands with her fiancée. I remember watching in an odd, baited breath silence as Stephanie began to tell her story and finding myself choking up just a little. For me, that emotional choked up feeling came from hearing things that I recognized, from watching her talk about the fear of disappointing her little sisters and knowing that exact same fear, to the same hands shaking, heart in your throat need to prove it’s alright, to make your way, to have your voice heard. Even as a person who has been out for years, an adult who is comfortable and confident in my sexuality, that feeling is still there. And as I watched it and watched her speak her truth and kiss another girl back stage I was reminded again that some kid, somewhere on a couch was going to see this, and feel that reliability, and feel seen and understood and not alone. I was driven again to keep fighting to tell my own stories.

There is something significant about pain and diversity and art that isn’t discussed enough. Art is universal and can be interpreted and understood and seen and heard and felt by anyone. But there is a rare and often overlooked feeling that comes when art feels like it understands you. When someone says words or shows an emotion that you can put your finger on and say you’ve felt. I stuck with the Voice after that. I watched specifically to follow Stephanie’s journey. For one, because she’s an incredibly talented artist, and for two, because I have a distinct understanding of how much harder that fight to make your way is.

Just a few nights ago I was driving, after my last day at my job in the Shannara Season 2 Writers Room, at about midnight down the freeway, and I was loudly singing along to Stevie Nicks with my windows down. On my reverse alphabetical order by artist itunes library, Stephanie Rice’s cover of White Flag comes right after Stevie Nicks’s Edge of Seventeen. So I’m driving and I’m singing and I know every damn word to Dido’s White Flag because I’ve heard it a hundred thousand times before and it was never even a song I cared about or liked. But I hadn’t heard this version that many times. Here I am, twenty-six years old, yelling at top volume in my car feeling my head get sort of swallowed and overcome and numbed by emotion as I do. Because when another gay woman sang that song, it changed. Because when another person fighting and dying to get their pain and emotion out of their chest sang that song, it changed. Because the emotion she sang with is emotion I know. Because suddenly yelling that I wouldn’t put my hands up and surrender became about something different. I can’t tell you what someone else meant by their song or their voice or their story. But I can tell you how it touched me personally. And I grinned like a damn idiot in my car because I felt a little stronger and a little prouder. 

I’m in the process of writing a feature/novel package with the brilliant Dawson Schachter. It’s a romance between two women. And as we work on it we keep having to remind ourselves of the reality that these stories don’t get told often, that the market for them is smaller, that they have to be palatable to the big wigs that will look at them. And that is infuriating and compromising and fucks with every better angel and creative demon you have, let me tell you. That’s the ugly part people don’t talk about. That’s the reality of being an LGBTQ creator. Being too gay or too different or not gay enough, not sensational enough, being martyred to your community when you would love just a little less pressure today, knowing the pressure is the only way, being brave because anything else has never even been an option you were given, feeling like failure means letting down that kid who needs this story, feeling like it means letting down the kid in you who needed this story and now just needs to get it out. But I also know how inspiring all those feelings can be and how it can feel like singing along at brain numbing volume to White Flag with your windows down going 90 on a freeway at midnight in Los Angeles far away from your home and your family. 

To Stephanie Rice, thank you. With as much weight as I can put in those two words, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for so bravely sharing your story and your art with America. Your vulnerability and light brought a story to televisions across this country that people need. And despite that particular journey wrapping up last night, I have no doubts that you will go on to keep sharing your soul through your music. As a fellow woman, as a fellow storyteller, you reminded me why I’m doing what I’m doing and I am so grateful to have gotten to hear your truth. You have a friend and supporter in Los Angeles if ever you need one. I look forward to hearing everything else you have to tell the world. 

To anyone else reading this, my friends, young LGBTQ followers, fellow writers, coworkers, strangers consider this very long ramble a plea for you to continue to back and support LGBTQ artists and youth. Continue to lend them platforms and elevate their voices. Continue to diversify the stories you tell, paint televisions and movies and the radio with kids that look like them, that sound like them, that feel like them. And please, also consider this very long ramble, another in a pile of promises I’ve already made to you, that I will never stop doing everything I can to illuminate your hearts and your souls and your stories. If I have to scream them or deliver them from the ground with bloody knuckles, I will make them heard. I hope that together, we can continue to build a foundation for generations after us, through art where exposure has opened hearts and minds, where stories have saved lives, and art has changed the world. We fight, as we always have, for a better, louder, prouder, safer, and more inclusive future. 

{PART 9} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook takes you shopping and you inadvertently give him a lesson on just how cruel humans can be to each other.

{Part 1} // {Part 8} {Part 9} {Part 10}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

Keep reading

Exo as Movies. 

Yixing:  Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist

Chanyeol:  Elf 

Baekhyun:  The House Bunny

Kyungsoo: The Craft 

Sehun: The Lizzie McGuire Movie

Chen:  Scott Pilgrim Vs The World 

Minseok: Easy A

Kai: The Cheetah Girls 2

Suho:  500 Days Of Summer