studded mani

punk is absolutely more of an attitude and way of existence than it is a style.
• you’re queer?? in an inherently homophobic and heteronormative society, that’s punk as hell.
• you’re trans//nonbinary?? in an inherently transphobic, cisnormative and cissexist society, that’s punk as hell.
• you’re a poc?? in an inherently racist society, that’s punk as hell.
• you’re mentally ill and//or disabled?? in an inherently ableist society, that’s punk as hell.
none of this means that you cannot be punk if you’re white, straight, cis, abled and neurotypical. however, it does mean that you come from a place of privilege. and if you knowingly contribute to ableism, racism, transphobia, misogyny, and//or homophobia without taking the time to unlearn the behaviour?? or you see someone else doing it and you just ignore it?? then buddy, it doesn’t matter how many studs, spikes and patches you have on your clothes or how high your mohawk is – that shit is not punk.
if you’re just pretending to be in the punk culture for the style, then fuck right off. the world is going to shit as we speak and if you’re gonna claim our style, make sure you got the damn attitude to go with it.

Erica grimaced as her maternity skirt gave up the fight and slid down her belly. He had done it to her again, and this time her biggest maternity clothes weren’t big enough.

She had already given him 8 kids in five pregnancies, but it was never enough for him. He loved breeding her and she loved being bred. As soon as she was in heat he bent her over their bed and fucked her as hard as he could.

“Fuck me baby! Fill me with your cum,” Erica moaned. As she felt his cock expand inside her she came hard. “Oh God baby! Make me huge!” she screamed. “Fill me with your babies!” She blacked out as he unleashed rope after rope of potent seed into her.

It was no surprise to her three weeks later when the test came back positive. She knew she was a good breeder. She was prone to multiples, so it didn’t catch her off guard when she started showing at 10 weeks along. But when she looked full term at five months along, she needed to know how many her stud put inside her.

Erica posed for her husband as he came home from work. Her maternity clothes giving up the fight and not containing her girth anymore. “Guess who put five of his squirming babies inside of me?” she asked.

Because the bad girls are always the coolest. ;)

Drew a Pizzazz in response to the last issue of ‘Jem and the Misfits’ coming out - Very excited for the upcoming relaunch!

I don’t care about your stud count, how many obscure Japanese dbeat bands you listen to, or how long you’ve been living in a punk house. If you’re an asshole to young punks or people just getting into the scene, you’re a filthy normie and don’t belong anywhere near punk.

Can I Be Him?

Title: Can I Be Him?
Character(s) Mentioned: Bruce Banner, Tony Stark
Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader
Genre: Romance
Rating: E (Everyone)
Words: 1,913
Author’s Note: Hello kitties and gentle-cats! Been a long time since I’ve updated, right? Again, I am sorry for that. It’s been really difficult to break through this writer’s block. However, I have managed to finish up this Bruce x Reader songfic that I’ve had on my mind for a while now. I don’t know if it’s any good to be honest. It is shorter than my other stories, but I hope it will entertain you for a brief period. This is based on a song sung by James Arthur titled Can I Be Him?. He apparently won in the X Factor or another competition that Simon Cowell is part of, I don’t know. But you have heard his name but not the song, he is the same singer who sang Say You Won’t Let Go from his Back From The Edge album. It’s a beautiful song that many hopeless romantics can relate to. If you have an opportunity, definitely take a listen to it. Alright, on to the story! Presenting, Can I Be Him?
Summary: Once again, Bruce Banner had found himself dragged into another one of Tony’s parties. He always found these pointless and dull since he never felt participating in random banters or discussions. However, this time became completely different. It could actually be worth coming, because you stepped into the door and into his heart.

Bruce adjusted the white cotton collar of his shirt for the third time as he attempted to keep himself far from the throng of people on the dance floor. Why did he agree to attend Tony’s party again? Oh, now he remembers; he was forced to come. Though he didn’t mind socializing, Banner preferred to be away from the crowds. Maybe if Stark didn’t make this a black tie event, he’d might be more comfortable but tonight wasn’t the case.
Tony had orchestrated this extravagant gala for a new charity he’s organizing, filled with many star studded celebrities, members of the Avengers, and some sponsors behind the organization along with him. Bruce already forgot what the charity was exactly and frankly, he drowns out Tony’s incessant chattering. The physicist sighed deeply, debating if he should call it a night or not. Despite the reprimanding, he knew he would be receiving from his science partner, he took the chance and decided to make a run for it. Banner casually walked towards the bar, Tony leaned against it as he conversed confidently with one of his guests.

“Tony, I’m gonna head out. It’s getting late.” Bruce lied, gesturing to the door over his shoulder.
“What? The party’s just getting started. From what I recall, you don’t have a curfew, grandpa.” Stark quipped, crossing his arms in skepticism. He knew Banner well enough to know when he’s making excuses.
“Well, not everyone can be as energetic as you, Tony.” Bruce replied, sarcastically.
“Just—stay awhile longer,” raising his hands as a gesture to stop him from leaving before he went back to his guest.

The physicist inwardly groaned before he nodded, accepting his suggestion. Now he knows, it was worth staying; the moment you walked into the ballroom. My heart has been stolen, Bruce thought to himself when he noticed your presence by the main entrance.
You glowed with excitement as you gazed in wonder at the surroundings. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen before. The chandelier itself was eye catching, its crystal baubles shining brightly against the light. It felt like the atmosphere filled with your glow the moment you set foot into the festivities and Banner was captivated by you. It was as if your aura brought him back to the time he wasn’t living in a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde novel. He continued to watch you as you scanned the wide room, his senses heightening with a feeling he hasn’t felt in years. Bruce felt like the man he once knew, the man before the Hulk. As if on autopilot, he made his way towards you, like a gravitational pull he was unable to escape.

You walked absent-mindedly, not paying attention to the strangers around you as you walked through the classical architecture of the museum that was rented for the evening. Suddenly, the high heel of your right foot caught the hem of your f/c mermaid gown, causing you to fall on your rear. You silently whimpered from the soreness slowly emerging beneath the skin of your behind. Your cheeks burned red from embarrassment, mentally hitting your forehead for your clumsiness.Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed it. Well, you believed no one noticed.

“Are you alright?” An older gentleman asked, offering his hand. You paused for a second, captured by the distinguished handsomeness of the person in front of you. You shook your head of such thoughts to answer him.
“Yeah, just bruised my pride. Maybe even broke my butt bone, but I’ll live.” You answered with an awkward smile. You placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm enveloping yours as he lifted you from the marble flooring.
“I don’t think you broke your tail bone, but your pride, on the other hand…”
“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, though I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances,” You introduced yourself as you laughed from his remark, not realizing you both continued to hold hands.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Bruce Banner.” He replied back.

You both looked down, noticing your hands were still joined. You two chuckled, embarrassed as your hands loosened their grip and fell to your sides. A faint blush rose to your cheeks, you bit your lower lip before you uttered another word. You weren’t too sure how he’d react to what you’re going to say.

“I know who you are, Dr. Banner.”
“Oh, you’re familiar with some of my work?”
“Um…More like I’m familiar with you turning into a big green guy.” You stated with a worried grin. “I was there when you and the rest of the Avengers fought with those creepy alien…thingys.”

Bruce chuckled, not surprised that the other guy would recognized before him. He’s come to terms with it, especially after he finally found the formula to keep his mind intact as he transformed.
“Ah, that was my next guess. Love your elegant description, by the way. ‘Creepy alien…thingys.’”
You became all that Bruce wanted. And he knew it from the very first moment. For the first time, Banner didn’t want the night to end. As long as he can spend it with you.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. First of all, thanks for coming tonight. I know you probably had to call your babysitters, your nannies, or…whatever, to come tonight. I mean, it’s me so why wouldn’t you?” Tony smirked, holding the microphone close to his lips as his guests’ voices rose in laughter.
“Now, I didn’t just invited you to bask in my glory. You guys do that everyday.” Once again, the crowd chuckled. Some clapped in amusement while Sam and a few other of his teammates teased him to get a move on.

Bruce paid no attention to Stark on stage. He was more enthralled in what you were saying, making jokes and intrigued by his work. Granted, you had no clue what he was talking about but he made sound Science fascinating. The excited physicist was in the middle of explaining molecular energy when he blushed from raving over his field, pausing to look down at his shined dress shoes.

“I don’t want to bore you with all this.”
“No, no! I’m actually curious about what you do. Though I should warn you I’m not going to remember any of the terminology.”
He slightly threw his head back in laughter. Banner hasn’t laughed this hard in ages. “So tell me, what do you do for a living? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Oh well, I—”

Stark’s voice drowned you when he announced, “Without further ado, presenting up and coming artist Y/N L/N!” A spotlight shined above as the applause of people boomed. You turned to the scientist, your cheeks turned rosier.
“I’m the entertainment.”
You nervously chuckled as you walked towards the stage, leaving Banner surprised and astonished but with his curiosity piqued. Your lips stretched into an earnest smile, taking the microphone from Tony’s hand before he walked off stage.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stark. Good evening, everyone. Um, I’ve written a song that is very dear to me. It came to me on a rainy Sunday morning. I hope you enjoy it.”
A soft, gentle melody snuck in as your voice carried throughout the large space. Your song was a slow ballad, filled with the hope of finding your soulmate again. You sung of the constant pain of missing someone you’ve never met and how you send your love to them every night. Like a prayer, a lullaby that was only for your beloved and how you waited for their return. When Bruce heard that song, as if a light came on and began to flicker in his heart. Your heartfelt yet sorrowful song ended, the last note echoing before the crowd applauded your performance. Your e/c eyes turned to Bruce, a soft smile extending to your round cheeks. He looked back, completely mesmerized by you. He wanted to hear you sing again, allow himself to be captured by that melody that could almost break your heart as you waited for your love. However, he swore that every word you sang, you wrote it just for him. His thoughts, his woes, it was as if you felt it too. The whole room felt like it dissolved, leaving you and him alone. It was Bruce’s private show, though he knew you never knew him until tonight. As you stepped gingerly down the stairs, his eyes never left you.
Bruce whispered to himself as you headed towards him, “Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?… Can I be him?” 

It’s two weeks since the gala ended. Bruce, in the lab with Tony, continued on with their work; however, his mind always went back to you and the sweetness of your voice. Besides you, the lyrics of your song haunted him. You both continued to speak after that evening, and created a bond like no other you’ve felt before.

“So there’s this guy…,” You began, averting your eyes to the cup of coffee in your slender fingers as you sat on the cream leather couch near him.
“Oh? I- I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Bruce stated, a tone of disappointment laced within his words.
You made a face of uncertainty, your nose scrunching up causing the older gentleman to chuckle. Perhaps there was a chance? He doesn’t deserve you, Banner thought. His lips touched the rim of his paper coffee cup in order to hide his frown. “Frankly, it’s not serious. He’s hurt me so many times that I’ve cried more than I’ve smiled. I don’t know why I haven’t broken up with him yet.” You sighed, recalling all the times your significant other has broken a promise, lied, or just ignored your presence for something of “more importance”.

If you were mine, I’d never let anyone hurt you, Y/N. I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips… It’s all I’ve been thinking about. He said internally what he couldn’t say out loud. However, the moment he noticed your eyes welling up with tears; your face clearly displaying sadness and frustration, he couldn’t hold his words back any longer.
“Leave him.”
You turned to him in surprise, “What?”
“Leave him, Y/N. Be with me. ‘Cause a light came on when I heard your song and I want you to sing it again. I swear that every word you sang that night, you wrote them for me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. Everything disappeared and it was like a private show, even though you weren’t singing it for me,” He said, nervously chuckling at what was spilling out of his mouth and heart. Bruce knew that he’s going out on a limb here, declaring his feelings to someone he’s only known for a few short months but he knew that this connection wasn’t one-sided. You must have felt it too.
“Bruce…,” You whispered, a soft grin emerging as the tears rolled down your cheeks.
“Can I be the one you talk about in all of your stories?” Banner moved closer to you, closing the small gap of cushion. His large and rugged hand reached out for your cheek, which you leaned in without hesitation. “Can I be him, Y/N?”
You brushed your soft pink lips against his, your e/c eyes never closing as you met his deep coffee brown ones. “…Yes.”

Stormy Seduction

Here’s a continuation from my last timeshift for Klaroline AU Week, which can be found here

Caroline tilted her head back and drained the goblet down to the dregs, some of the wine trickled down her chin and she wiped it away with her hand.

Before her, the bonfire roared proudly, the wood bursting from the heat and the sparks flying up into the night sky.

The star studded night sky.

How many times had she looked up at those stars and found comfort in the fact that if nothing else, being able to see them was breath-taking?

Too many nights to count.

And she would have traded every moment, every memory of those stars to be nine hundred years away, in a world of light pollution, of smog, one or two visible stars at night and her family and friends around her.

But no matter how hard she wished, she always woke up in tenth century Mystic Falls.

Seven hundred years before it would even be called Mystic Falls.

When she had first woken up and found herself staring at long-haired Klaus, she’d assumed it was some kind of trick and been ready to attack him or run away from him until she’d found herself shaking from the cold.

And vampires didn’t feel the cold.

When she’d managed to recover from that shock, she had gone straight to Bonnie’s ancestor and asked her to send her back to the future.

Only to realize that Ayana didn’t speak a single word of modern day English.

Of course, Caroline didn’t speak tenth century Maybe-Danish- Maybe-Norwegian- definitely not Italian or Spanish- either. Nor was there books or even rolls of parchment in the village for her to learn from, because both were too precious and she didn’t even know the alphabet to begin with.

So that had been a massive setback and she’d been stuck trying to learn word by word, picking up objects until someone told her what it was and she tried to remember.

That is, after everyone had stopped being frightened of her.

Turns out, tenth century superstitious people who already had two witches in the village got a little spooked by women falling from the sky, for the first few weeks, the only people who’d been willing to go near her were Klaus and Rebekah- and Rebekah had only gone near her to touch her dress and jewellery.

Neither of which were all that useful to her surrounded by dirt and huts, so she’d given them both to Rebekah and got a woollen dress as trade. Much more practical.

As far as Caroline could figure out, in the beginning, the people had just assumed that when night fell, she would disappear or find somewhere else to sleep, when she’d finally located the hut belonging to Klaus and his family- figured the biggest one in the village and been right- she had been cautiously welcomed in and offered food.

An hour later she’d been throwing it up on the edge of the village.

Twentieth century stomachs weren’t built for tenth century food and the way it was cooked.

She’d been stuck chewing herbs and what few vegetables Esther grew and she’d had to wash them in the Quarry before she could keep them down.

There wasn’t any room to spare with Klaus’ family, so she’d been housed with the chief of the village, an older man who every night had told her stories about his dead wife. Not that she understood any of them, but it was nice to just listen.

At least she thought it was his wife, might have been his son or daughter or maybe even his horse.

The language was really confusing.

And she didn’t always have time to learn it because once Esther had seen that Caroline needed food and clothes to survive, she’d taken her under her wing and tried to teach her the same tasks that every woman in the village had to perform.

She’d had to learn how to grow vegetables and herbs- although she was the only one who ate vegetables the whole year around and not just when meat was scarce. She’d had to learn how to wash and pick wool and how to handle the farm animals that Klaus’ family kept.

She’d also had to learn pretty quickly not to get attached to them, because anything that she named one day she could be expected to kill the next and prepare for eating.

The work was exhausting but sometimes she welcomed it, the callouses on her hands, the strain in her back and the dead sleep she fell into at night.

At least then she didn’t have time to think about how much she missed her friends and family.

And now heartbreakingly lonely she was, how isolated when she could still barely speak more than a few sentences and could only understand people if they spoke very slowly.

She senses someone at her shoulder and turns around to see Rebekah smiling, her hair decorated with vervein and that always made Caroline smirk.

Klaus would have been the one to braid the flowers into his sister’s hair, sitting there patiently and weaving each one carefully into her golden strands. Caroline remembered the first time she had seen him do it, when Rebekah had put on her gold dress and he’d decorated her hair.

Mikael had broken his arm for that.

The third last time he had raised a hand against his step-son.

Caroline looks for him now and sees him sitting with the older men, keeping the left side of his face away from the fire. It was still tender and the scar hurt him badly in the cold.

She looks for Klaus and sees him leaning against the white oak tree, nibbling on some salted meat. His hair falls over his shoulder and he looks so human as he stands there, so innocent and fragile.

She hands Rebekah her cup and slips away from the bonfire, moving into the darkness and into the edge of the field where she’s pretty certain the Grill will be one day.

She hears footsteps behind her and turns to see Klaus having followed her at a distance.

He’d done that a lot when she’d first arrived, trying to figure out what she was, and late at night he would look for her, make sure she was home safe.

He looked at her with worship in his eyes and his hands always trembled when he touched her.

He was in love with her.

And she?

She was just tipsy enough and lonely enough that this seemed like a good idea.

She holds out a hand and he comes forward hesitantly, climbing the slight incline slowly and his eyes search the area, not yet used enough to the idea that he was safe around anyone but his siblings.

When he is close enough, he reaches out and takes her hand, linking their fingers together, their calloused, warm fingers and she tugs him forward, smirking as he bumps into her. His body is hard underneath his tunic and pants and she wraps an arm around his back to keep him against her.

He gasps and she smiles at his innocence before pressing a kiss to his lips, slipping her tongue into his mouth and sliding it against his. Klaus seems stunned but eagerly reciprocates, putting his free hand lightly on her upper arm, his thumb rubbing small circles through her tunic.

When she breaks for air, she wipes some of the spittle from her lips and feels her body growing warmer in spite of the cool autumn night. She puts her hand on his shoulders and pushes, making him fall a step back and frown in confusion, hurt flickering through his eyes at her apparent rejection and she rolls hers in frustration.

She points down to the ground before remembering that gesture wasn’t universal and tries to remember which of the three words for down she wants to use.

She gives up quickly and kneels down on the grass, waving her hand and he finally understands, kneeling down beside her, about to wrap an arm about her shoulder but she pushes him down onto his back.  

This doesn’t need any translation.  

She pushes his tunic up and over his head, baring his chest for her appreciative eyes, and she runs her hands over the bare skin, flicking his left nipple playfully and he hisses at the sensation.

She straddles his waist and works on her own tunic and shift, tossing them aside and letting Klaus’ shaky breath and dart of his tongue across his lips as he sees her breasts go straight to her ego.

She realizes a bit late that she’d have to move to get her pants and shoes off and rolls off him into a sitting position, lifting up her hips to push the fabric down and from the scrambling behind her, she reckons he’s doing the same.

Naked, she’s barely turned back to him when starts kissing her, hungrily, eagerly if not expertly, his hands hovering at her shoulders until she takes them and puts them on her waist.

They fall back to the ground, Klaus not letting his back hitting the earth distracting him from kissing her, breaking only to turn his attention to her neck and she reaches down to take his penis into her hand, stroking her finger along the length and squeezing it gently.

It’s hard before she is even finished, beginning to press against her thigh and she lifts her hips to press a finger to her clit, rubbing it until she’s aroused and she pushes Klaus’ shoulders so he’s lying back down and straddles him, having only one moment of doubt.

It disappears quickly.

Everything that Klaus was going to take from her and her friends nine hundred years from now.

Was it really so bad that she’d take this one thing from him?


She positions herself and sinks down onto him, taking him to the hilt and digging her nails into his hips as she hummed with delight, he wants to thrust quickly but she holds him in place, shaking her head and setting the pace, moving slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him hot and hard inside her. When she wants to move faster, she puts her hands on his chest and quickens her pace, throwing her head back and breathing in the night air as she felt the coiling in her stomach.

Out of nowhere, lightning flashes across the sky and makes them ghosts, dead things joined together for all eternity.

Sweat coats their bodies and grass stains their legs green, Caroline orgasms and her clenching muscles milk Klaus’ climax from him.

Wearily, she lays across his panting chest, her hair tumbling into his face and he carefully tucks the strands behind her ear or across her shoulders. She knows she must be heavy for him, but if she lays in the dirt she’ll have to wash herself properly tonight and she’s already exhausted.

Klaus reaches past her and picks up his tunic, draping it over her body and wrapping his arms around her, he peppers her temple with kisses and his hot breath tickles her skin.

“Caro,” he murmurs in her ear, “Caro…line.”

She smiles at that, her name was difficult to pronounce for the villagers, who’d taken to calling her Karo. He must have practised.



i’m new to the studyblr community and I WOULD LOVE to meet some cool people to follow!!! i REALLY NEED some motivation in the form of cute study posts!!! AND I WOULD LOVE TO MAKE NEW FRIENDS!!

fav studyblrs (honestly they’re SO CUTE AND COOL ): @areistotle @astrostudy @elkstudies @studyign @studybuzz @studypetals @jessastudy @ravenclawsthetics @obsidianstudy @etudiance @enjeneering @calcluls @kouiro @karolstudies



anonymous asked:

I live in an area that doesn't have a largely open gay community, and I want to meet a girl that I like, but I'm afraid of getting a dating app and just getting catfished/her only wanting sex.. bonus points in that I'm a very femme bi girl who's in LOVE with studs, and so many people tell me I'm just a confused straight girl 🙄😒😭

i totally relate with the being scared of being catfished / people only wanting sex. my advice would be that if you do make a dating profile, make it clear that you aren’t interested in hookups and whoever you decide to connect with, add them on snapchat so you can confirm that they’re who you think they are. ignore the people who say you’re confused because they’re just ignorant. good luck!