#SoapBox

[redeem27]

The mysogony blogs in my feed are getting out of hand and its getting me irksome. Yes I think a woman becoming a baby factory is extremely arousing, but it takes a specific kind of woman to be that. Someone who is willing to entrust her liberties to the partner whom she trusts and believes in. It is submissive, it is intimate, and it is consentual, and consent is beautiful. That kind of person should be cherished, loved, and cared for, because she is a rare jewel.

But then I see this whole talk of forcing women to become right wing rape victims, slaves to mysogyny, and it makes. Me. SICK! The moment you take away someone else's rights, you are a disgusting inhuman creature. It's immoral. I don't care if its a fantasy for you, its still spreading a message, a message that can be heard by people who think that its ok OUTSIDE of fantasy. I don't want to see it anymore and anyone who posts it can be shown the door and potentially the firing squad.

[murderballadeer]

i hate applying for jobs they should just hire me bc i’m nice

[grungekitty-77]

Not that anybody asked, but I think it's important to understand how shame and guilt actually work before you try to use it for good.

It's a necessary emotion. There are reasons we have it. It makes everything so. much. worse. when you use it wrong.

Shame and guilt are DE-motivators. They are meant to stop behavior, not promote it. You cannot, ever, in any meaningful way, guilt someone into doing good. You can only shame them into not doing bad.

Let's say you're a parent and your kid is having issues.

Swearing in class? Shame could work. You want them to stop it. Keep it in proportion*, and it might help. *(KEEP IT IN PROPORTION!!!)

Not doing their homework? NO! STOP! NO NOT DO THAT! EVER! EVER! EVER! You want them to start to do their homework. Shaming them will have to opposite effect! You have demotivated them! They will double down on NOT doing it. Not because they are being oppositional, but because that's what shame does!

You can't guilt people into building better habits, being more successful, or getting more involved. That requires encouragement. You need to motivate for that stuff!

If you want it in a simple phrase:

You can shame someone out of being a bad person, but you can't shame them into being a good person.

[bluegiragi]

just for fun, i thought i'd redraw an old soapbox comic to see how much i've improved! you can read the original from 2 years ago here.

early access + nsfw on patreon soapbox masterpost (scroll to bottom)

[aspharah]

hey bro can we like adopt paralleling themes and symbolize opposites but in a two sides of the same coin kind of way? it doesn’t have to be weird. wait what do you mean thats gay

[cap10wilson]

sometimes letterboxd reviews are beautiful

[virtualtyrant69]

If you believe hard enough, every character can be aroallo

[phantasm-ae]

inspired by @little-mini-me-world ‘s comment SKSKSKKSKS

cw: just fluff, afab reader x ghost, afab reader x soap, afab reader x gaz

HEADCANON: Bunny meets bodies Soap….

PAIRING: Simon Riley x reader; John MacTavish x reader; Kyle Garrick x reader

Soap had just came from base.

Carrying a box of supplies in his arms, some paperwork, leftover documents, and random items and knick-knacks from the warehouse for Simon's forgetful arse. Besides it's not like this was the first fourth time Simon had sent Soap on some "errand run" to bring him back some particular essentials.

A map. A spare radio. A pressure gauge. A cypher. Some... sunflower chew..? -- "Whit the fuck?"

Soap squinted at the label. What the hell was this for? A snack? A bribe? Enrichment for a goat?

He shook his head.

The box shifted in his arms as he nudged the side gate open with his knee, muttering curses about how Simon could navigate enemy territory blindfolded but couldn’t keep track of his own gear if it was duct-taped to his face.

Soap stumbled through the backyard, setting the box down with a grunt onto the patio table.

Then… peace.

Birds chirped. Wind rustled through the leaves. He stretched his back and cracked his neck. Thinking he might take a second before knocking on the back door to have some of those lemon drizzle cakes you offered and tea. Just breathe in. Breathe out.

That was his first mistake.

Because somewhere to his left -- behind the flower beds and just out of view -- came the sound:

Click.

A latch. Small. Metal.

Soap froze. His eyes darted to the backdoor. The wooden gate which looked like it was not closed all the way.

Then:

THUD. THUMP THUD.

Soap turned slowly. A breeze caught the edge of the sunflower chew bag, fluttering it like a flag of doom.

That’s when he saw it -- a blur of black fur, rippling muscle, and sheer fury, ears back like missiles locked on target. A weighty fluff that looked like a foreboding presence by the doorway. A Cerberus that hops.

His eyes widened.

It stepped into the light. Not ran. Not pounced. Stepped. Purposefully. Slowly. Like it knew Soap had dropped the sunflower chew.

Like it had sensed the sacrilege.

Soap’s mouth went dry at the sight.

The rabbit -- if you could even call it that -- was massive. All thick hindquarters and broad shoulders, like someone had crossbred a gym rat with a Pixar bunny. Eyes unreadable and narrowed. Haunted, even. Like it had seen war. Fuck that -- like it himself had sacked through the war and won

And now it was coming for him.

“Oh, shite.”

Soap bolted.

Behind him: THUD. THUMP. THUD.

The sound of justice in pursuit.

The lawn blurred under his feet as he scrambled across the grass, kicking up dirt and yelling over his shoulder.

“Steamin Jesus!” he yelped, spun on his heel, and ran.

The box behind him tipped over, spewing radio parts and mystery chew like a busted loot drop. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t look back. You never look back when death has floppy ears and a muscle-to-fluff ratio that defies science.

“JESUS MARY JOSEPH!”

The beast was moving. Fast. Silent except for the terrifying drumbeat of paws pounding grass. The kind of sound that says: You done fucked up.

From the doorway, Simon’s calm voice cut through the madness. A cigarette hanging from his lips. Mask off and shirt discarded. Bored and utterly unamused at the sight

“Don’t fight him.”

Soap barely had time to process the words before he was diving behind another piece of outdoor furniture. Dodging around the hulking mass of monolithic black fur like it was just another rogue tank in disguise.

Bunny didn’t hop. Bunny lunged—a spring-loaded cannon of quads and wrath, muscles rippling under his plush coat like he’d been trained by special ops hares in the mountains. The deck chair Soap tried to use as a barrier tipped with a screech as the rabbit plowed past it like a battering ram fueled by rage and sunflower chew withdrawal.

At all the noise and commotion, you stepped out onto the porch just in time to see Soap dive behind a patio table like a soldier flinging himself from an IED. Bunny -- the aforementioned IED in rabbit form -- was hot on his heels, flared out like a muscle car revving at full speed.

Your eyes widened in both shock and surprise. Utterly worried and confused at the sight. Brows furrowing in frustration and annoyance at Simon's nonchalant arse just watching the whole thing go down without another word.

“Simon!”

Simon didn’t even flinch. Just took a long drag from his cigarette, arms crossed, watching the chaos like it was a nature documentary.

“Are you seriously just standing there?”

“He’s fine, birdie", he replies. Deadpan. Bored and growing amused at Soap doing combat rolls across the lawn to escape what looked like a jacked-up demon in bunny form.

You shot him a look sharp enough to shave wood.

“He’s not fine, Si! He’s being chased by a rodent with a vendetta!”

Simon shrugged, flicking ash off to the side. “Shouldn’t’ve dropped the chew.”

As if on cue, Soap let out another yell -- something between a battlefield cry and a terrified squeal -- as Bunny cleared a flowerbed in a single, impossible leap, landing with a heavy THUMP that rattled a potted plant off the windowsill.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake -- ” you muttered, stomping down the porch steps.

“BUNNY!” you called out, voice cutting clean through the yard like a clap of thunder.

The beast froze mid-prowl. One paw suspended in the air. Eyes narrowed. His broad, fluffy shoulders lifted and dropped like he’d just remembered he was, technically, a house rabbit.

“Down,” you ordered firmly. “Now.”

Bunny turned his head slowly toward you, his nose twitching once. Then, with the weariness of a war general called back from a campaign he really wanted to finish. Irritated. Held-back and made indignant. He backed off.

Sat his enormous fluff down on the grass with an audible huff, glared once more at Soap, and began cleaning his front paw in the most passive-aggressive way. Licking his ears innocently as if he didn't just try to gnaw out Soap's ankle to the bone.

You turned to Simon, who looked criminally smug.

“And you!” you snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave the latch half-closed?! He’s figured it out!”

Simon blinked at you. “That’s impressive, actually.”

“Not the point.”

Behind you, Soap finally peeled himself off the ground, hair tousled, shirt grass-stained, and dignity nowhere to be found.

“Holy hell”, Soap started warily. Swallowing and out of breath as he peeked around the edge of a flipped chair. “Tha’ was nae how I wanted tae go”

"I'm so sorry," you said, voice shaky and weary as you approach Soap. Eyes darting around the mess he was left in.

Soap limped over. Standing slowly back onto his footing. Cautiously eyeing Bunny, who was now sitting like a sentient sandbag of judgment.

“Tha’ thing,” he muttered, pointing and exasperated, “is nae a bunny aye? Tha’s a fuckin’ black watch guinea pig wi’ a gym pass an’ a thirst for blood!”

Bunny thumped once, just to prove a point.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated, brushing dirt off Soap’s shoulder as you try to help him stay on his feet, “he’s just super territorial. Doesn’t like high-pitched screaming is all. It stresses him out.”

“Ah wis the one stressed out!”

Bunny sneezed.

Simon stubbed out his cigarette. “He probably thought you were a threat, mate”

“Simon—“

“Tae what?! The ecosystem?!”

At all the yelping, wheezing, exasperated grunts, and creaking of broken furniture, Gaz opens the back door cautiously. Cuppa already in hand from your said tea. “Everything alright?”

“Naw,” Soap snapped. “Naw, everythin’s no alright.”

“He met Bunny,” Simon said with a shrug. Lips quirking a bit like that explained it all.

Gaz sipped his tea at the entire scenery, stifling a humored smile. “Lucky you. He’s never chased me.”

At his words, Bunny turned his head toward Gaz slowly, ears perked. Position poised and nose twitching in interest.

Gaz. Quiet. Calm and Wise.

Immediately stepped back inside and closed the door.

You sighed, hands on your hips as you wave your hands in annoyance. “Okay. That’s it. Everyone back in the house. No one touches the chew. And Simon, you’re fixing the latch. Properly this time.”

Simon nodded solemnly at your scolding. Never one to argue with his birdie when he knows he did her wrong. “Aye. Before he learns to use keys.”

Bunny blinked slowly but obeyed without another huff. Then hopped — thumped — Regally. Menacingly. Triumphantly. Back into the house as well like a king returning to his throne.

Soap just stood there, winded. “I’m bringin’ a stun baton next time.”

You patted his arm reassuringly. Feeling a sense of guilt. “I'm so sorry darling. Just bring an apology gift next time. And maybe... kneepads yeah?”, you add.

Side-eyeing Simon as you two walk past him. Shooting him a warning look before leading Soap inside.

"One more word and you're sleeping on the couch"

"I didn't even say anything"

"That's the point"

masterlist

[kvothes]

it’s like people cling to the right to ignorance. instead of seeing not-knowing as a neutral, normal, base state from which you are meant to grow and learn.

[ch3rrybbie]

Get free

Ghoap x reader oneshot

Warnings: angst, death, smut allusions.

Summary: out of the black into the blue.

The jeep shook you as it sped down the dirt road.

A hot summers night, somewhere.

It didn’t matter where. What mattered was that this was where you were slipping.

The stench of dust and iron lay taught in the air as you were tossed between Soap and Ghost.

A rock and a hard place.

Your fingers were all you could focus on, ignoring Price and Gaz in the front checking on you every so often.

Ignoring that was all any of them could do.

Fingers numb and dulling, you felt barely able to feel the wound in your side.

You start to sag further in your seat, only to be dragged up by your tactical jacket.

Ghost.

“You’re fine, sit up straight” he commands fear tinging his bite.

You laugh delirious, he sure did pick his moments to show he cared.

He did’t show you he cared when he made you run 50 laps for laughing. He didn’t show he cared when he asked Price to bar you from a mission for carelessness. He didn’t show he cared all those times you were in the med bay. He didn’t show he cared when he slipped from your room under the crest of night. Leaving you sweat licked and teary.

It was your turn to leave him.

Soap licks your wounds, stroking your matted hair. At least there would be comfort in these last moments.

Soap always showed he cared.

It was like he couldn’t help it.

Always five paces behind. Hand always a caress apart. Always running beside you. Always shouting for you.

Lips pressed tight to you, swallowing doubts.

You were floating, light as air. Head swimming in delirium. Thick chuckles vibrate through you.

They all turn to stare each wearing an expression worse than the last.

A nymph amongst the dammed. A saint amongst sinners. The dead were always the holiest. You would be martyred.

Being the only woman in 141 had never given you any grace. Never meant differential treatment in the wounds shared. If it’d been anyone else in your seat the same glances would be shared.

But this meant you would be absolved of the awful things you all did.

Where would you go? What world awaited you?

Sleep nudged at your heavy soul.

You were a child again, sleeping softly against your mother. A drama playing on the TV, lulling you into the quiet.

What did Ghost care anyways, you tired of this back and forth. Of this life. Missions and gore and blood and running and killing.

For what?

You let your hand slip from you wound. Spite taking your hand and kissing it in praise.

Fuck Ghost.

You didn’t need to say anything, any goodbyes or I love yous could be imagined or there.

What did you care.

They knew you.

They knew you.

So you lean against Johnny, allowing yourself this small comfort. Hand, bloodied and limp falling against Simon’s thigh.

He grips it harshly and attempts to stem the wild blood flow running from you.

You can’t hear his barks anymore.

Eyes closed you tune into the soft strokes of Johnny’s hand. His soft touch calls you in the way he does, soft pats of ‘lassie’ and ‘Bonnie’ soothe false fears once again.

———

Johnny does what Simon never could, accept.

You can’t breathe life into a wilting flower as his mother would say. She would’ve loved you, he thinks.

He knows.

Johnny was selfless as always he would give comfort to you, no matter how much it hurt. He feels you soften and still, not daring to check,he looks to Simon’s frantic movements.

———

Simon was selfish in his wanting. Hands bloodied he attempts to animate you. Perhaps his pushing and pulling will respark your heart and put wind in your lungs. Perhaps not, and yet he persists. He wants you come come back and kill him, to drown him in your blood and drag him with you like some wrathful harpy.

Come back and hate me. Come back and kill me.

———

Ch3rrybbie says: sorry the ghoap x reader fixation made me write this will try get requests out asap, this got me out of the writing slump lol.

[codypunk]

we escalated from tagging to adopting a baby in one match

[kujousaramybeloved]

kaveh and alhaitham just casually drop “we” talking to the traveler and literally no one has to guess who “we” is. they are so married it makes me sick

[murderballadeer]

well whatever. dandelion chain for leonard cohen.

[iloveoldermen-posts]

141 when female!member joins

Warnings: totally my opinion with no logic behind it just vibes, slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, i have not proof read ୨୧

Simon 'Ghost' Riley Didn't like the idea of her at first, not because she was a woman just because he thought a new member would ruin the dynamic they already had. But as he got to know her, she became his new favourite member with her dark humour and her looks that could kill. Secretly has the biggest crush known to man on her. Secretly.

'Captain' John Price Took the role of a second father, so much so that he THREATENED the one and only Ghost saying that he better not be leading her on. Ghost takes it VERY seriously - to the point of getting Gaz to help ask her on a date "all nice and propr."

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick There as a helping hand whenever she needs it. Always offering small pieces of advice - especially on how to break down Simon's walls. He is actually the BIGGEST wingman because he is the most observant so he is the only one who has seen the obvious signs.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish Tries to become best friends with her immediately. It wasn't that difficult for him because she is practically the same person as Ghost. She pretends to hate it but in reality, hearing his voice lightens up her day. Always finds herself sitting between Soap and Ghost.

My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

[geronimostiltonofficial]

you know that post thats like “dog heaven is also squirrel hell its very efficient”? well, i feel like sam reich heaven (gamechanger) is dropout cast hell

[aspharah]

there was an aircraft collision over the potomac river. complex, ai-powered algorithms know everything about every person on the planet who has internet access. nazis, some of whom have already been in the federal government for years, are now making themselves publicly known. is this real life america in 2025 or is it the plot of captain america: the winter soldier (2014)? the answer may shock you