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Thanks for the question, Anon!

For me, I only go braless at home, even if others are there.

-submit your poll!-

#i just hate having tits #one day i will have them removed and my life will be easier #its also fucking expensive to buy bras when you don't wear a 'standard' size #< prev tags #same mood truth etc #im counting binder wearing as well #switch between two #i can't not wear a bra #but home or lazy days is more a sports bra / bralette #the are just too in the way or get sore if free #edit: wrong blog but whatever

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Kapril day 11- Kayo/Penny vampires

Photo edit 👇

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Kapril day 25 and bam it's lesbian visibility week, not only can U now see me U can also see kayo so.

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I got so sick of being on my own, now the devil won't leave me alone

Part 1 of Strays. A Criminal AU.

A mission turns into something more.

a/n: This is the first part of an exciting new AU that I've been wanting to write for a little while. Heavily inspired by previous fandoms I've been in, so it was really nice to dip my toes back into writing some crime bois <3 I hope you enjoy this ride! Title is from Turn Off the Lights by Panic! at the Disco

“I have eyes on him,” he mumbled into the comms as he adjusted the scope.

The figure in the hoodie darted quickly down the street, occasionally glancing behind himself like he suspected he was being followed.

His suspicions weren’t exactly wrong.

“Coming up on your location now.”

“FAB.”

He followed the kid as he pushed past the people in the street, almost tripping over his feet, before he turned abruptly down an alleyway.

“V, now!”

Keep Reading

#yoooo #lets go!

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Inspired by my own hair issues

Taming of the Curl

He stared in the mirror and sighed.

There was one spot on his head, near to the front, where a chunk of hair just wouldn't behave itself. Especially after a shower.

It just ... stuck out and refused to cooperate, no matter what he did.

A little water to tame it?

Nope

A comb ran vigorously through the wet hair

Heck no.

This ... was a renegade clump of hair, determined to ruin his brand new look.

Searching through his stash, he discovered that he'd ran out of hair gel and grandma was still working on the shopping list.

He couldn't go out looking like this, one stubborn curl sticking out like a ducks butt.

One thing for it.

He'd have to pinch some of Scott's industrial hair gel. That stuff was like nanocrete. Once on, it would stay there - permanently

Oh well

Yes, his original hairstyle was ... unique. But it took a lot of time and effort to make it look good. All those stubborn curls needed to be put into place.

So, it was time for a new look

Whilst he was sighing and frowning over that one particularly challenging curl, he didn't hear - or see for that matter - his bathroom door opening.

So he jumped when a hand came into his view, with a can of hair mousse.

"You can borrow mine ... if you want."

He blinked and looked at Kayo, surprised that she actually uses any sort of hair product. Especially a well known brand.

"That's if you don't mind smelling like a delicate flower," she shrugged with a devilish smirk, "I won't tell if you don't."

She popped the lid and pressed a blob of white fluffy mousse into her hand. The size of a small tangerine and waited.

"Your choice. This .... or that stuff that Scott uses that will never come out."

"Er."

She touched the errant curl with her free hand, he flushed brightly.

"O-kay ..." he said eventually, "but don't let Gordon get wind of this."

"Don't worry, he won't. I'm good at keeping secrets. Can I?"

He blinked momentarily then nodded.

She scooped some of the mousse and applied it gently, tugging the curl upwards and into the cockscomb spike he used to have. It obeyed her deft fingers and slotted into place.

He was surprised.

"How ... how did you do that?"

"A woman's touch. Besides, you've got to work with how your hair grows and moves.."

Her fingers moved so delicately through his hair, tweaking and cajoling each section.

"There, all done."

She stepped back and let him admire her work.

"I don't know what you were trying to do, but I like this style so much better. It suits your face shape."

She rinsed her hands, and turned to leave, pausing at the door.

"Besides," she said with a wink, "your helmet is designed around that style. Brains would have a field day trying to redesign protective headgear for you."

She waggled the canister in her hand.

"Just in case Gordon starts snooping around."

"Thanks Kayo."

"No problem, no problem at all ... Virgil."

And she was gone. He looked back at his own reflection and admired her handiwork.

Yep, she was right. It did suit him, and ... well ... serves him right for trying something new and radical.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

He's better off talking to Brains about new concepts and experimenting different styles when he had time to paint

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Day 15 of @thunder-pride ~ Lesbian Kayo

💖 WOMEN 💖

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Essential workers

My friends at Tumblr, let me talk a little about myself today...

I'm a medical worker. My job is rewarding, but sometimes―when called into work late at night or can't get enongh rest― I feel tired and anxious, lonely. Even think "Why did I dare to choose such a difficult job?".

In those situations, I try to remember Tracy brothers. They always motivate me! Seeing them makes me want to give my all, too. And drawing them when I have a time is my pleasure😊

This is one scene of Atlantic Inferno. John is woken up by a emergency situation. So charming even with a bedhead and disheveled clothes!

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Hello!

From the reverse tropes list . . .

Too hot to cuddle

and/or

Fake amnesia

Too Hot

Also requested by @edutainer2022

~

John hated this.

It was every person’s dream to live on a tropical island. Everyone, that is, except John. And they hadn’t even been here a month.

He sighed. The night was no better than the daytime. The island had little wildlife, some sea birds that nested on the cliffs, but no mammals or reptiles. There were plenty of spiders, and while they weren’t the ‘size of dinner plates’ as Gordon had gleefully informed them when Dad had announced they were moving, they were small, fast and always in his room.

The night wasn’t quiet. He was used to the sounds of the night in Kansas and many of the sounds were the same – the crickets here were louder though – there were also moths and ants and – John shuddered – pseudoscorpions.

Logically he knew that none of the wildlife here wouldn’t hurt him at all, but the thought of everything made his skin crawl.

But the insects were not the worst thing.

The heat was oppressive. The wet was extreme. And then the heat was oppressive.

Did John say that the heat was oppressive?

He missed the temperate air of Kansas. The gentle breezes that wafted warm, wheat-scented air into the farmhouse, the songbirds…

They had moved to the island in the dead of winter.

John hated the winter – he ran cold even in the highest heat of summer – and that first couple of days he did enjoy the heat.

He still couldn’t sleep at night though.

John enjoyed the stars – he’d never seen so many, ever – but after several sleepless nights all John wanted was some sleep.

He sighed. The stars didn’t hold much interest tonight. He wanted…he wanted his brother.

Kicking off his covers, he padded silently through his room, out the door and into Scott’s. His brother, still recovering from…yeah, still recovering but also still a big brother, and before John had even shut the door Scott had turned over and opened an eye.

He gave a lop-sided smile and held an arm up, and John grinned in return, practically sprinting across the room.

There was a little wiggling as the two got comfortable but then John frowned and wriggled some more. He sighed in frustration. Wiggled some more. Growled.

By this time Scott was propped up on one elbow, looking at him with amusement clear on his face. John growled at him and Scott laughed.

‘John? Can’t get comfortable?’ ‘I – I can’t!’ ‘Can’t what?’ ‘Can’t sleep. Can’t get comfortable.’ ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘It’s too hot. It should be cold and I should be snug but you – it – here it is too hot.’ ‘I’m too hot? I thought you liked that I ran hot?’ ‘Too hot! You’re hot and it’s hot and now I’m hot.’ ‘I thought you wanted to be hot?’ ‘Comfortable! I want to be comfortable! I – I want a hug!’

With that last cry – and yes, John was almost shouting – he leapt up from Scott’s bed almost as fast as he’d run to it.

Scott collapsed back with a sigh, flattened the cover so that he was underneath and John would be on top, and patted it. John hesitated, looking at the bed and then the closed window, clearly undecided. Scott patted the bed harder and smiled.

John made his mind up. He went to the window and opened it a crack before settling back down on the bed.

Scott’s heat combined with the barest of breezes was just perfect, and the weight of Scott’s hand on his arm was comfortable and before long John had dropped off.

The heat was just…right.

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Yes I die and come back. Yes you've seen it happen multiple times. But it would be NICE if you acted a LITTLE surprised every time. You don't know what it's like when you're dying in someone's arms and he asks you if you'll make it back in time to play Crash Team Racing later

#captain scarlet

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Wait for it

#theres somthing so supermarionation/terrahawkie about it

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I don't know exactly what I wanted to do but I really like the result 😁. For my part, it will be useful for my profile photos on all my networks 😂😅

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wip- wednesday and Seasick. no idon't why im digging out hiatus fics eithier

Many unknown hours later young John Fisher bolted up right in a cold sweat. And promptly fell off the couch. it took a very long moment to realise where he was. And even then, he had to scramble for the light to check.

Home. But not safe.

Fisher blinked closed his eyes and took a breath. Home. Safe. Something was still giving him goosebumps though. He frowned looking around him. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Bar his state of dress. He needed a shower. He could feel the track suit that wasn’t his cling to him. and was very aware of his own skin his hair even his nails. He needed a shower but the idea made him baulk.

He made his way to his kitchenette to get a glass of water; hoping it would get rid or the taste in his mouth. Then stood there frowning at the sink, feeling like he’d forgotten something all day. He was having no luck trying to remember the dream that had woken him either.

Cupping his hands under the faucet and drinking deeply, Fisher then splashed his face and rubbed his eyes, scrubbing away

 it came to him in a flash of movie stills.

The commander ordering him to finish his shift early. The attack on Troy. Marina…

and something when the three lieutenants, had been sat together in the corridor.  Him, Phones and Atlanta. And Phones had said-?

Tap still running Fisher bolted back to the living room. He Fumbled for the radiotellyphone and dialed, willing the caller to pick up faster. The hospital’s front desk didn’t even get a chance to ask his emergency-!

#stingray 1964 #seasick #my fanfiction #next day rebagel

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Lilian the Cook Head Canons

She was an assassin who was hired by many crime lords to kill Parker. All Parker did was steal money from the Crime Lords.

They crossed paths over 60 times when they were younger, and each time Lilian tried to kill Parker. Yet Parker escaped each time. Parker was the only person Lilian couldn’t kill. To this day, Parker likes to tease her. “Some assassin, you couldn’t even kill me.”

Lilian is good with knives, and Parker learned the hard way never to sneak up on Lilian while she is cutting up food. She also has a pretty good eye. She is decent at hand to hand combat, she still can’t beat Parker at hand to hand combat though. 

Lady Penelope hired Lilian, not knowing the shared history between Parker and Lilian. The poor girl just needed a new cook, and boy was she surprised when they started to verbally fight / flirt with each other. Thankfully, they were in the middle of their truce, so no actual blood was spilled.

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I just like idea of Lilian and Parker having a shared history, also assassin Lilian is my Jam.

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60s NASA art, for the Gemini program. I couldn’t find the artist credit with a quick search.

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Work in progress Wednesday (in my heart)

“I’m sorry, what?” Scott snapped out of business-Scott instantly, once again becoming the International Rescue Commander that Lemaire held in contempt. “We’ve been sailing through an area that the World Aquanaut Security Patrol—the foremost military and scientific authority across every ocean on the planet—declared off limits for an hour?”

#ooooh boy #quick scott run before shore sees you

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One of my favorite images of the Mechanic.