deep-V-Neck

6

Oscar Isaac in Ex Machina and in The Late Late Show with James Corden 

“I cannot take credit for any of that,” said Oscar. “[It was done] by a choreographer who had won Mr. Disco in the U.K. in the mid-‘90s, so he knows his stuff.“It was about twice as long originally,” Oscar said. “And in the film it’s cut to about half.

Aesthetics for the Houses

Gryffindor: Sucking on sugar cubes, giggling behind your hand, long car rides with friends, opening windows to let in fresh air, running barefoot through grass, burning your tongue on food that was too hot, the view from tall buildings, the sun warming your skin, doorbells, summer camp, fierce eyeliner and bold lipstick, deep v-necks accessorized with a flirty smile, rough hands and soft hearts, brightly colored cocktails, laughing too hard at a dumb joke, crumpling up paper and throwing it into a trashcan across the room, card games, letting your hair down, opening doors, and skinny dipping.

Ravenclaw: Waking up late on a rainy day, warm coffee on a cold morning, scrunched eyebrows, color-coding everything, bags under your eyes, passing notes to your friends, long fingernails, jumping in puddles, charm bracelets, comfortable silences, orchestras, velvet ribbons, french braids, dark eyelashes, chewing ice cubes, train rides, staring out the window, curling up with a pet, being alone in the forest, the smell of the earth after it rains, staying up late to watch the stars, rearranging your room, biting your tongue, painting your toes different shades, cold glasses, chokers, watching a play, musical compositions, roman numerals, doodling on your hand, and mirrors.

Hufflepuff: Skirts that flow behind you, eyes that sparkle in the light, tea, picking flowers for your mom, laughing so hard you can’t catch your breath, denim shorts and crop tops, forts made out of sheets, pixie cuts, scrunching up your nose, rosy cheeks, freckles across your nose, bohemian tapestries on walls, dancing around the room with friends, apartments with brick walls in the city, sleeping by huge windows, drinking alcohol on rooftops, shirts rolled to the elbows, cute buns, birds sitting on telephone wires, fogged up glass, strumming a guitar, smiling so much that your cheekbones ache, climbing tall trees, contagious laughter, Polaroid pictures, and mosaics with colored glass.

Slytherin: Raising one eyebrow, martinis, marble statues, soft fur blankets on leather couches, tapping your fingernails against a hard surface, perfectly winged eyeliner, sly smirks, champagne flutes, pencil skirts, footprints in fresh snow, tree houses, wandering around the city at night, quotes that describe you perfectly, black and white photography, french perfume, black silk, lingerie, combing wet hair, proving people wrong, shopping with your best friends, mint leaves, keeping a diary, silver rings, staying up all night, black coffee, hand mirrors, little black dresses, pine trees, vanilla scented candles, mascara, stone walls, leather jackets and red lipstick, wine corks, and photo albums.

2

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this was in consideration for Anakin’s Ep III look. I can’t believe what he ended up looking like in that movie was the subtler alternative to an even worse look.

I can’t believe we almost had an Ep III where Anakin runs around with his bare chest, black leather deep-v-neck jedi tunic, and mohawk while all of his allies are completely blindsided by his fall to the dark side

7

WORTH PARIS EMPIRE VELVET BROCADED SATIN GOWN, c. 1914.

Peacock blue silk, the short sleeve bodice of tulle having bands of paste jewels with blue and iridescent clear beaded fringe over silver metallic lace, deep V-neck with beaded blue tulle insert over white tulle above a large velvet bow, the skirt crossed at center front and cutaway to reveal a beaded chiffon underskirt with beaded fringe over blue silk, long fishtail train pleated and held by two large beaded tassels at back.

Piano Tiles (M) - Pt. 2

Originally posted by kths

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, ft. Yoongi

Genre: Angst, Smut, and a sprinkle of fluff, pianist!y/n, AU

Word Count: 9.5k *high pitched screaming*

Summary: “Love is so short, but forgetting is so long.”

A/N: So. This is the second time I’ve rewritten it, have worked on this version for three months and am fINALLY happy with the way it turned out. It somehow turned grossly mushy at the end, but maybe that’s just the product of my pent up bitterness from the hell that was Valentine ’s Day. ¯\_()_/¯ (partially edited, excuse the errors)

part 1 | part 2

At the start, the phrase “It will pass with time” was something you had clung desperately to like a life raft. Words not uncommon to the hurt and heartbroken, you hoped such a miracle would apply to you too, despite the fact that you were the one who inflicted the pain. Did God forgive this form of self-harm? For three long years, you had foolishly believed in such a concept. As you grew more preoccupied, thoughts of him faded with each passing day, only to interrupt your transition to forgetting during the most mundane of instances; getting stuck in traffic, or waiting on a laundry load. The worst times were at night when you began to ponder the many what ifs; what if you hadn’t visited him that day, what if Jimin hadn’t shown up that morning, what if you had stayed? Just exactly how far would that have gone? When you were plagued with such thoughts, you simply plugged in your earbuds and played on repeat whatever piece you were working on until you could drift into a fitful sleep. With time, it had gotten easier to forget your time with Jeon Jungkook or to pretend to do so; to lie to yourself and others.

And then the night of your professional debut, the spell was broken.

You haven’t seen him in three long years and it’s unfair how good he looks.

Keep reading

Every Time You Call

*click through to read on ao3!

written by: Mel | @caramelkru

prompt: ‘modern day fic where bellarke decide to send nudes to each other even though they’re just friends? ’ for anonymous

word count: 1406


[10.42pm] bellamy?

[10.45pm] Clarke

[10.45pm] ok good. just making sure u’re holding ur phone

[10.46pm] … What??

[10.47pm] Clarke sent an image

[10.49pm] Uh

[10.49pm] That is

[10.50pm] stop typing n backspacing n typing again u can ditch the awkward idk-whats-goin-on spiel i just needed to vent

[10.51pm] With a picture of your boobs?????

[10.51pm] … Those are YOUR boobs, right?

[10.53pm] yes very much mine

[10.54pm] i’m making up for all the unsolicited dick pics out there in the world

[10.54pm] By sending an unsolicited boob pic?

[10.54pm] boob pics are always solicited

[10.55pm] Fair point

Keep reading

“Whole Foods” - One Shot

The family vacation with Harry becomes…. delicious.

Rating: M ( Smut)

           “You’re coming with me” was all he said when he announced his annual family summer trip. Before you could even say no, he stopped you, one finger up in the air. You reminded him that you were not family, but then he fired right back saying that you talk to his sister more than he does and that his mum always asks how you are. So yeah, you were going.

           The beach he selected wasn’t the normal harry beach. It wasn’t in the middle of nowhere, there were more people around and he wasn’t afraid of getting noticed, you guess. So on TOP of being with his family, there were going to be cameras. Everywhere. He REALLY wanted the world to know who you were. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

           Lying on the beach seemed to be what you needed, though. And you didn’t see any paps, mainly people noticing Harry and like the gentleman he was, stopped to take a picture with them and say hello, and then they had wandered off back to their own lives. Harry was a heart of gold and such a people person, a goofball and someone who wrecked you in the sheets as much as he could. And you couldn’t believe you were here, with him, on this beach, with his family.

           “Water?” Gemma piped up and the both of you rolled over from you stomach to your back, elbows propped as you started tanning the other half of your body.

           “Yeah, sure”, you thanked her and took a long swig, your eyes glancing around for Harry. You heard him before you saw him, your eyes focusing in the direction of his happy yells, and you couldn’t help but smile. He was in his element, tanned and toned, those yellow shorts making another appearance as you watched him laugh, pushing one of his cousins because he made the wrong call during beach volleyball.

Keep reading

good batter aesthetics:

- big clunky teeth
- eating raw meat
- not knowing how to smile
- people trying to get him to laugh/smile only to be faced with awkward silence
- four eyes with the bottom two having black sclera
- no face at all
- stout, muscular batter
- bean pole batter
- batter drawn with a sun halo around their head
- turtle neck
- the deep v neck
- all batters r good batters

anonymous asked:

Valentine's Day prompt: Yuuri and Phichit celebrating Singles Awareness Day during their time in Detroit, preferably with Phichit teasing Yuuri about his crush on Victor.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” Yuuri whines as Phichit dances around their dorm room in just his underwear. 

“Of course you’re doing this,” he sings, shaking his hips in time with the song blasting from the small speakers of his laptop. “You’re not going to let me go alone, are you?”

Yuuri sighs and flops on his bed. “No,” he answers. He should have known Phichit was going to guilt-trip him into this. He should have pretended to have a date for Valentine’s just so he could send Phichit on his way and have the whole dorm to himself for the night. 

But no. Of course not. Phichit, thoroughly single (by choice! He can hear Phichit yell), decided last week that they were both going to be celebrating Singles Awareness Day. 

Yuuri doesn’t care if he’s single. Prefers it, even, if it means not having to go through all the hassle of getting ready for Valentines. But now he’s going through the trouble, the effort, of getting ready to go out on Valentine’s Day anyway. 

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Yuuri asks as Phichit dabs concealer under his eyes in the mirror. 

“Because we’re single and proud,” Phichit answers back quickly. 

Yuuri scratches delicately at an itchy spot on his eyelid, trying so hard to avoid smudging the mascara Phichit put on him earlier. Single, yes. Yuuri’s been ‘single’ his whole life. He’s never found a reason, or the right person, to take on as a lover. Proud? Well, Yuuri’s not upset he’s single, if that’s what Phichit means. He doesn’t care if he’s alone at night. It’s less stressful than having to worry about another person besides himself. 

Phichit is also single - has been for a couple weeks now. But he seems to have more luck in the romance department than Yuuri, although their strict training schedule doesn’t allow for much extracurricular time in which to date. Proud to be single? Yuuri’s not sure. He’s making a fuss of it tonight, but it’s probably a case of ‘protesting too much’. 

“So what are we supposed to be doing tonight, besides bringing awareness to how single we are?” Yuuri asks. 

Phichit rolls his eyes before carefully sweeping on some winged eyeliner over a light dusting of gold eyeshadow. (He’s done it every morning since Yuuri and he first started rooming together, so the move is practiced, producing a clean, black line that Yuuri is jealous of. ) “We’re going to bring awareness to the other people there how single we are.”

“I’m not really looking for a one-night stand.” Yuuri huffs. 

“Well, I am.” Phichit says, glancing over at his friend in the mirror. He wastes no time in finishing off his other eye. 

“Then can’t I just stay here?” Yuuri asks. It’s going to be awkward watching Phichit head home with someone tonight while he makes the lonely trek home by himself. 

“And what, moon over your Victor Nikiforov posters?” Phichit teases. 

Yuuri glances over to the embarrassing amount of posters he has of the skater tacked up around his bed. Okay, well, maybe that was his plan tonight. Maybe he’d been hoping to spend a couple hours daydreaming about what his idol was doing tonight. Or what he’d do if he was there with Yuuri.

“I’ve lost him!” Phichit cries when he sees the glazed look on Yuuri’s face. He grabs jeans from the floor, sniffing them to make sure they’re alright before pulling them on. He’s not sure if who’s they are, but they sure are tight around his thighs. 

“I just think I could be more productive here,” Yuuri complains, watching as Phichit struggles into the tight pants. 

“Productive? You mean you’d be jerking off to posters of Victor Nikiforov.” Phichit doesn’t hold back. 

“URGH,” Yuuri responds, flipping him off. It may the truth, but it’s hard to hear, even coming from his best friend. 

“Okay, well, what if Victor’s at the bar?” Phichit asks. 

Yuuri scoffs. “He’s not. He just posted an instagram pictures from St. Petersburg a few hours ago.”

Phichit rolls his eyes again. “Well, just imagine he might be, okay? Wouldn’t you want to go out and meet him? You’ll never meet him, or anyone else for that matter, just hiding away in your room.”

Yuuri sighs, but Phichit’s right. Even if he’s not looking, he can’t just skip out on life by hiding away and staring at his posters. “Okay,” he concedes, “I’ll go.”

“Fantastic,” Phichit says, pulling on a clean black tshirt with a very deep v-neck, “because I’m ready.”

“Finally,” Yuuri mutters, sliding off the bed, fixing his own v-neck shirt and grabbing his wallet off the desk. 


Yuuri’s barely legal and Phichit has a fake ID to get him through the club doors (it also helps he’s got a cute face to smooth the way). 

The ID, although the picture shows a caucasian male named ‘Kyle’, has never brought Phichit any trouble. Yuuri’s hoping one day that it will fail and they’ll have to go home early. 

But tonight won’t be that night. All the clubs in the University area are looking to attract single, desperate people to fill their dance floors. It’s ridiculously loud inside and Yuuri almost turns around and goes right back out, but Phichit’s got a death grip on his wrist. 

“Two vodka seven’s,” Phichit calls over the bar after he pushes his way to the front. 

There are far too many people in here, especially for Valentine’s day. Phichit’s at least nice enough to find them a secluded corner where Yuuri feels a little more relaxed. 

“So, which one do you think I should go for?” Phichit asks, sipping his drink and eyeing the crowd. 

“Are you asking which gender, or did you have a couple people in mind?” Yuuri asks. 

“Not picky tonight,” Phichit shrugs. “As long as they find me attractive, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, there’s at girl over by the dj,” Yuuri nods to her with his chin. 

Phichit looks her over, but doesn’t seem too impressed. “I’m pretty sure I dated her friend? Crystal?” He says. 

That’s not something Phichit needs to get tangled up in again, so Yuuri moves on to the next person. There’s a cute red-head by the bar, but Phichit vetos them as well for no other reason than their shirt is ‘too blue’. Yuuri thinks it’s more of a turquoise colour, honestly.

They both scan the crowd again. Yuuri’s happy to be Phichit’s wingman as long as his own single-status doesn’t come into play. 

“Oh my god, Yuuri - look!” Phichit elbows him after a couple minutes, almost making him spill his drink. 

“What?” Yuuri asks, looking up. But he immediately knows what Phichit’s talking about. There’s a tall lean figure leaning against the bar with gorgeous silver hair. His first thought is: Victor? Could he really be here, in Detroit, in the same bar Yuuri’s at?

But he dismisses it quickly - the man at the bar has long hair and Victor cut his short over a year ago. 

The man turns in their direction and Yuuri doesn’t actually mind his face. It’s obviously not his idol, but he isn’t that bad looking either. 

“Wooooow,” Phichit whistles. “Yuuri, you gotta go ask for his name. Maybe he’s related to him or something.”

“Not a chance,” he says, although the person’s build and hair are strikingly similar to Victor Nikiforov’s. 

“Go!” Phichit nudges, looking excited for Yuuri. 

Yuuri hesitates only for a brief second before downing his drink and then weaving his way in between people towards the bar where the man still is. He runs a hand through his hair, gelled mostly into place by Phichit, to make sure he’s presentable. 

“Hi,” he says when he’s close enough. 

The man turns around at his voice. He takes a long, slow look up and down Yuuri’s body, showing interest. 

“I’m here celebrating Singles Awareness Day,” he says, not believing that this kind of pickup line is actually coming out of his mouth. “What about you?”

“Hmmm, I suppose I’m celebrating that too,” the man says, licking his bottom lip. 

“I’m Yuuri,” he introduces himself. “Maybe we can celebrate it together.”

“Felix,” the man purrs, leaning in to whisper his name next to Yuuri’s ear. “Can I buy you a drink?” He offers and Yuuri accepts. Phichit’s giving Yuuri thumbs up from their corner. 

They end up making out on the dance floor for a solid hour. Yuuri’s pretty buzzed by that point, having let Felix buy him a couple more drinks and a shot or two. His lips feel nice against Yuuri’s. 

Phichit’s already texted that he’ll find his own way home and that he wishes Yuuri ‘good luck’ with Felix.

Felix is good. Nice. Not horrible. Handsome. He should be everything Yuuri wants. And he’s attracted to Yuuri too, it seems. He can’t go wrong here. But still, somehow, he can’t help but compare him to Victor. And he just pales next to the figure skater. 

He tries to remind himself the Victor Nikiforov is just some personality put on by the media - that he isn’t actually what Yuuri daydreams him as. He’s not the suave, playboy type he’s portrayed as in magazines. He’s probably not as handsome in person either. And he’s probably an asshole.

Felix is real. And he’s right here in front of Yuuri, giving him the kiss of his life. 

Yuuri tries to tell himself that settling for someone that looks like Victor isn’t really settling at all. It’s probably better in the long-run. 


“Ah, Single’s Awareness Day. What a great name,” Phichit says when he stumbles into their dorm at 10am the next morning. He looks disheveled, but happy. 

“Urgh,” Yuuri agrees, rolling over and covering his eyes. He tries to will away his headache.