(personal posts are #lllostgirlll.txt) Hello! Welcome to my blog! You can call me Stella. 23. I’m a Christian, my faith is incredibly important to me. I’m on the autism spectrum (I haven’t been officially diagnosed, as I don’t have the money and am a woman, but I’ve done as much research as I could). I’m currently dipping my toes into feminism/radfem stuff so please be patient with me. This is also MY blog, that being said, rarely will I post about social/political issues, other than feminism. This is my little corner of the world, my “safe space” if you will. Do not think of yourself so highly you may tell me what my silence on any issue means.
Hyperfixations:
The Lost Boys (1987), The Last Kingdom, Avatar (the one with the blue people), Turn: Washington’s Spies, Stranger Things, Slashers (mainly Michael Myers), Halloween in general, No Country For Old Men, Books, The Chronicles of Narnia, Twilight, The Lord of The Rings (including The Hobbit and The Silmarillion but do not mentionthat abomination by amazon), Supernatural, Vikings, Peaky Blinders, Knightfall (the history channel show), The Northman, Assassin’s Creed, History in general, and a lot more that I might add later.
Favorite Bands/Singers (not in any particular order):
THIS ONE ISNT A SMUT REQUEST (but if you want to make it smut go for it !! its your blog), but I’m thinking of maybe like a really sensitive and shy reader and just like normal miles😭but he’s very strict in this. let’s say little reader makes a mistake and miles is having a bad day, so he yells at her and is like “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? STOP” and she gets really scared and upset because this huge 9’5 man just screamed at her for something so small and she’s just thinking he could crush her like a bug, and how intimidating her boyfriend truly is so the poor thing just cries on the spot :((
warnings: mean quaritch, cry baby reader, emotions!
Miles quaritch is rude, egocentric, and ignorant. It's who he is, and who he has to be as a commander. He's sarcastic and privy to his emotions, though his temperament can really get the best of him.
but Q loves his shy little girlfriend. she’d been so quiet and small when they first met, in her own bubble until quaritch decided he needed to pop it. He loves the challenge of working her out of her shell and is rewarded with her sweet smile and laughter.
Miles finds that she’s actually an open book. He can’t help but fixate on her delicate features when there’s only so much space between them! Miles always finds the smallest twitches in her expression, revealing exactly what she’s feeling. she feels so deeply. miles loves how expressive she is, silently rejoices in the fact that he gets to have her like this as very few have the opportunity
-loves when he can tell her a mundane snippet of his day and she’s glows in delight for him, as if compensating for his lack of enthusiasm
-Q will sneak glances at her when they watch movies, hearing her sniffles and he just pulls her in his lap. his heart squeezes when she wraps an arm around his middle and lets herself cry openly, allowing herself to be vulnerable in his arms.
-but it seems quaritch woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What had started as simple as early morning grogginess turns sour and quaritch becomes an irascible, mean man. not even her bright spirit can bring him out of it.
“what are you doin’ in here?” his voice carries as he enters his office and she’s already there.
she perks up at his presence and smiles.
“hey, i had a bit of time and wanted to stop by,” she says, swinging her legs as she’s perched on his abnormally large desk- on top of his paperwork.
“dammit!” quaritch flares, stomping across the room. “get off my desk.”
she startles at his low, thundering voice and scrambles to jump off of the polished wood. She’s slightly alarmed and confused, but this is not the first time Q has been in a bad mood. She chances a glance at him from her small stature, an uneasiness growing in her belly. Quaritch is tense, shoulders bunched and fists clenching. He's so large compared to her, it’s impossible to not be intimidated. she begins to nervously fidget with her manicure.
“I- i didn’t mean to intrude, i missed you before you left this morning and i wanted to see you,” she mumbles
Quaritch doesn’t acknowledge her as he takes the opposite side of the desk and assesses the clutter of paperwork. He rests his palms flatly on the desk, hangs his head and sighs deeply.
Quaritch raises to meet her eyes. “don’t I see enough of you at home?”
she’s stunned for a moment, unblinking as she processes his razor sharp words and finds his eyes burning with aggravation.
he raises his voice now, “go on. i got work to do and i don’t need you fuckin’ it up more than you already have.”
she’s still stuck in place, watching him. Quaritch begins to flare at her stall to action, rounds the desk again and takes strides to quickly approach her and thunders, “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.”
it comes out quicker than he can catch it, and quaritch catches the fright that flashes through her and she takes a skittish step backwards. This immediately halts his steps, and quaritch is forced to watch as her sweet little face crumbles under his gaze. it happens in slow motion- her face becomes warm with humiliation, and that usual light in her eyes clouds over with a fresh spring of tears. her chin wobbles and she breaks their mutual gaze and dammit, now quaritch has really fucked it.
she’s wrapping her arms around herself and turning her back on him towards the door and no no NO that’s not what he wants at all. He catches her wrist just as the door clicks.
and it’s a knife gouging inside his chest when she turns towards him, a veil of sorrow obscuring her usually radiant features. her cheeks are already blotchy from holding her breath, holding back her tears. Q feels awful, god he’s such a stupid prick.
“honey, i didn’t mean it”
and poor thing, she just bursts into tears. She tries to catch her sobs before they leave her chest, but she’s hurt, and even a bit frightened. It's heart wrenching, quaritch’s own expression falls and he’s immediately kneeling to her height. He holds her wrist gently, so fragile and small within his palm. He wants so badly to pull her closer.
“baby, i'm sorry. so, so fuckn sorry,” miles says
“Do I bother you that much?” she cries loudly, looking up at him with tears clumping her lashes and tracking over her cheeks. Quaritch hates himself for ever putting that thought into her mind. He shuffles on his knees to be closer to her, reaching to take her other hand in his.
“no, no darlin’. you could never bother me. Don't know why I would even say somethin’ so goddamn stupid and incorrect. talkin’ out of my ass again.”
she doesn’t answer, her chest raking with every sob she lets out. miles begins to wilt, his heart in his stomach. he can’t stand being so far away from her. he takes a chance; sitting on his haunches and parting his legs so he can tug on her wrist until she’s crashing into his chest. he tries not to let his heart sink when she doesn’t reciprocate his touch right away.
“didn’t mean it, doll. I'm sorry,” Miles says lowly, his chin resting on her head.
“you can be mean-you can be *so mean sometimes, miles.” she says wetly against his chest. she clutches the fabric of his shirt.
“I know, I know, i don’t mean to get that way,” he concedes, beginning to rub her back. He feels her take deep, steadying breaths.
“But you do, miles. more often than you think. Sometimes I feel like I'm tiptoeing through a landmine. I never know when you’ll blow up on me.” she sniffles.
-quaritch nods, truly considering her words. He knows he can be a dick, but he never wants to be that way with her. his heart clenches as he recalls the fear that flashed over her just minutes ago- and how he was the reason for it. Quaritch wants to kick his own ass.
The pair are quiet as she calms down, her tears subsiding. Eventually she wraps her arms around his shoulders, properly hugging him now. Miles is flooded with relief and pulls her closer. She smells sweet, like her conditioner and the fabric softener she uses. she smells like home, and god isn’t quaritch the biggest fucking idiot to even think of speaking to her that way.
“stay here with me,” he breathes, nuzzling into her hair. she pulls away to meet his eyes warily, her own still rimmed red. Quaritch shakes his head as if to erase any doubt in her mind.
“Wouldn't want you anywhere else, sugar.” he tells her firmly, taking her hands. she sniffles and pouts, her eyes falling to their entangled digits. her thumb runs softly over his knuckles and miles heavy heart beats so fast.
she takes a deep breath, finally meeting his eyes and nodding her head. Miles sighs in relief and hugs her close.
“Thank you, love you,” quaritch sighs. His anxiety eases when she locks her arms around him again. He wraps around her torso, petting her soft hair. They stay like that for a while, but quaritch really does have work to do. Wordlessly, quaritch moves to grasp under her thigh, pressing her close. Her legs instinctively wrap around his slim waist and quaritch easily maneuvers to stand with her in his arms. He walks them towards his desk and sits, holding her against his chest and begins to sort the scatter of documents. She lifts her head, eyeing the mess.
“M’sorry i messed up your desk,” she mumbles.
“S’alright, wasn’t really organized to begin with,” he chuckles, then somewhat awkwardly clears his throat. “I'm really sorry, darlin’, you have every right to kick me in my hind end and tell me off. I don't ever wanna make you cry,” he says softly.
What quaritch doesnt know is that he’s an open book with her, too. Miles’ eyes are swirling pools of raw emotion, constantly changing and turning with the tide. She finds a genuine sorrow, a true apology darkening the chartreuse of his irises. She rises to kiss him softly in reassurance.
And she feels the way the tension bleeds out of him, feels his slow sigh breathing from his nose. Quaritch lifts his fingers to cradle her jaw, brushing the soft skin. When they pull away, that cloudiness is gone and Mile's eyes are bright again.
She smiles at him. “Can I help?” she asks, already turning in his lap to face the desk.
“Y’know, I’d appreciate it, actually,” quaritch says. His hands drop to her hips and he pulls her into him, her back pressing against his chest. He scoots further into the desk and drops a kiss on her shoulder and says, “I don't deserve you- too good t’me, too sweet,” in his low, american accent. She loosely throws her hand back to punch his chest. “I know,” she says, a light tease in her voice. Quaritch chuckles and holds her tighter, bowing to press another lingering kiss into her shoulder. And so they organize the clutter together, exchanging papers and reading off the information to one another. They’re a well oiled machine until every stack is bound and clipped neatly. She even writes sticky notes in her loopy handwriting to describe what the documents are about. When the job is done, quaritch is turning her around and kissing her like he’s been dying to ever since he stepped into the office.
notes: lol hello! thank you for sending this request! i was v excited to dig my teeth into this. i apologize for the delayed roll out, life punched me in the throat and took me out over the past couple of weeks but it was a nice reprieve getting to work on this. thank you envy for the request! please enjoy and leave some love! <3
I think skade really is singular among tlk women because she is the only one with absolutely no secret yearning for domesticity and no deep desire to take care of anybody except herself, who is totally happy to dispose of men she no longer finds useful. she breaks the fundamental tlk woman rule. naturally this means she's a crazy evil seductress bitch and the only possible solution is to murder her.
You know, an interesting tumblr transformation that's happened gradually, and which I've seen no one talk about: ask-culture has essentially dropped off to nothing.
By which I mean, asks used to be WAY more of the tumblr economy. They used to be more common to send, and receive, and see. They were integral to the collaborative, forum-like behavior of old tumblr communities, not even to speak on the HUGE number of ask-blogs that used to exist to only be interacted with in ask-form.
I'm not saying this in a vying-for-attention way but instead in an observational way: I used to get way way more asks in like 2015, even with a fraction of my follower count. I wonder if it's due to the homogenization of social media sites? There's a lot more of this divide between "content creator" and "consumer" instead of just a bunch of peer blogs who would talk to each other. "Asks" aren't really a thing on twitter, are they? And as I understand it, the closest thing to an "ask" on instagram or tiktok would be a creator screenshotting some comment and responding to it in a new reel or video or whatever those content mediums are. Are asks just too tumblr-specific? Is that aspect of the site culture dying out as more and more people converge to using all their social media sites in the same way?
it's probably from assholes making asks a minefield of trolling/harassment for years with no real blocking ability, which turned people off from allowing asks on their blogs so as a whole the site moved away from it
but now that we do have better blocking, we should try to revive it.
TURN OFF YOUR OTHER PHONE AND DO NOT TURN IT ON AGAIN UNTIL YOU ARE ALONE AND SAFE BECAUSE THE ALARM WILL COME THROUGH AS SOON AS THAT PHONE IS POWERED ON.
AGAIN I REPEAT:
OCTOBER 4, 2023
THE ALARM WILL COME THROUGH AS SOON AS THAT PHONE IS POWERED BACK ON.
SO ONLY POWER IT BACK ON WHEN IT IS SAFE TO DO SO.
OCTOBER 4, 2023
If this doesn't make sense, then good news it's not for or about you but still reblog it because you never know who may need to know this.
Reminder that this fandom simps and pardons the 30+ old man that killed Neteyam but were going to victimize an emotionally neglected 16 year old POW for saving his not-father who is the only ADULT WHO BY THE WAY IS THE ONLY ONE TO PUT HIM AND HIS NEEDS FIRST EVER.
If you happen to stumble upon an ad that looks like this, DO NOT SCROLL DOWN.
The rest of the ad is a very tall GIF of strobing red light that can potentially cause seizures. You cannot scroll past this ad quickly enough to avoid seeing it.
There seems to be no way to report the ad, so the next best thing is to use an adblocker (if you haven’t already) or even stay off the mobile app.
Another thing the Barbie movie made me realize is how many movies "made for men" I've watched with some guys friends of mine (like Fast and Furious).
I go to the cinema, watch the movie, happily listen to their thoughts about it and say I enjoyed my time. I ignore how bad the story may have been and enjoy my time because he is enjoying his time.
But when it comes to a movie to which I emotionally connect so deeply as I did to Barbie, I don't see the same effort coming from them to understand why I or any of our girl friends enjoyed our time wearing pink and watching a movie about a doll.
