#on my lil soapbox

[boneyardbimbo]

The words “I am bisexual, actually” do not mean the same thing as “I’m gay, but I’m not that gay.”

Telling someone that you’re bisexual does not make you inferior to the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community because you’re “not gay enough.”

Being bisexual does not mean that you don’t like nonbinary, genderqueer, or gender-fluid people as people or as friends.

Being bisexual is not inherently bigoted.

Explaining that someone is bisexual is not “cringe” or “stupid.”

Correcting someone and telling them that someone else is bisexual and not gay OR straight is not “cringe” or “stupid.”

And if I hear one more Heartstopper fan say that Nick is in the wrong for telling people that he’s bisexual, I will slide into their ask box and raise some hell.

Love is love, people are people.

[release-the-sheep]

look I'm so glad they shake hands every game actually

[daisywords]

you know what specific strain of discourse I find really reductive and annoying? that whole "Oh parents are pushing dolls onto little girls to indoctrinate them into believing that their whole personality has to revolved around motherhood yada ya"

because like. First of all the concept of dolls has been around like everywhere forever. It's not like they were invented as some part of malicious misogynistic scheme. Some kids will literally kiss a stiCK on the "head" and put it to sleep.

which leads into the second of all: because I don't think kids playing at taking care of something has much to do with hypothetical future parental roles as it has to do with their own conceptualization of their current relationships.

Think about it. For most young children, their most important relationships are with the people who take care of them. And playacting as the other role in that type of relationship I think can be a way of learning to understand the world and the people around them.

It's not so much that the kid is supposed to have babies later, it's that they are someone's baby right now. (Not to say that kids who aren't so into doll play are socially stunted or anything; everyone's different.) But what I am saying is that I don't think that giving little girls dolls is insidious as a concept. I think that kind of play should also be available and encouraged in boys.

And like yeah girls should also have other outlets and opportunities and everything but ugh it's not an either or between "cool in interesting stem toys" and "dumb dolls" like hm idk. Maybe we should all be a little more focused on learning to care for other humans actually.

[aloera]

that post about neurotypical people being mean to you about your interests makes me so mad actually bc my mom who has no idea what ao3 or discord are listens to me talk about it and remembers the names of my online friends and cheers me on when i tell her ab my user subscribers or comments i get and she tells my cousins about it because its something i care about so now they make an effort to connect with me about writing fic and online servers and stuff and like. it just seems so reductive and cruel (and like. legit just incorrect) to say that nt people are incapable of that. wtf lmao

[marigoldispeculiar]

It’s such a head trip to realize that there’s no clear distinction between magic and fictional magic. Like xianxia and acupuncture literally use the same magic system…

[love-songs-for-emma]

thinking about how my dating history (& even most of my crushes) split almost exclusively into two types of ppl:

1. ppl who are nice to Literally Everyone. (even to ppl who are Hashtagg Very Uncool, i.e. abusers)

2. ppl who are mean to Literally Everyone Except For Me

& anyway these r The Reddest of Flags,, gn

[transhulklings]

Crazy feeling when people really love something you made that you think is mediocre. Maybe I am too hard on myself

[halfricanloveyou]

ok so i watched the new superman show. thought it was just okay romance wise, nothing very exceptional. the animation was weak in a few areas, i think they should have just gone all out and animated it like an anime, like in the myx episode. loved that battle sequence too!! the rest of the animations with the fight scenes were kind of clunky imo.

character wise i think they’re all pretty predictable and fall into the same boring stereotypes. tenacious and ambitious/spunky ‘tomboy,’ goofy comedic relief third wheel black friend, OP main character who’s main trait is being both responsible for all conflict and saving people from said conflict…yeah. it’s literally danny phantom but instead of being ‘sassy’ clark kent just has anxiety.

HOWEVER…taking into account the episode with the loving and kind gay gorilla and his robot-body-but-human-brain-scientist-husband, clark kent being quite possibly the most peggable fictional character to exist, casually depicting lesbian moms, and most importantly being very obviously and overtly anti US government means i objectively have to give it a 10/10 and say it’s the best tv show i’ve ever seen in my life.

also…it’s definitely a kids show (like probably ages 10+) and i can only assume it’s on adult swim because the people at cartoon network are fucking cowards. let cool stuff back on prime time air and stop shoving it all to after hours!!! sometimes midnight is too damn late!

[noctuaas]

me vs immediately unfollowing someone bc they wrote a cowboy au HGJKDS PLS I JUST. it’s so obvious when someone writes cowboys and knows nothing about western culture, why we do the things we do, and DEFINITELY don’t ask about native and hispanic influences bc they would never even realize. they’re always written as such caricatures and it’s so ew

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Big Hands (Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Spencer, are getting ready for a night out, when your insecurities start to get the best of you.

Word Count: 1531 -- it's just a lil guy

Warnings: Body insecurities, maybe a little bit of a big-girl-soapbox

A/N: I definitely wrote this very quickly this afternoon because I literally just felt like it. This is just a short lil one for the big gals who just want someone to notice them.

Anyway hope you enjoy! Thank you all who have commented/reblogged/liked my last fic!!

-

Your jeans hugged your curvy hips as you tugged them up to your belly button, covering the bottom, larger part of your stomach. You were tall, for a woman, but not taller than Spencer. He was, what, 6’1”? You stood around 5’9”, so he still towered over you, still had to look down at you when he spoke, still had to crane his neck to whisper in your ear. 

You were wearing a flowy, sage green blouse. Why were clothes so hard to find for a larger girl? It was all cold-shoulders and obnoxious patterns. You just wanted something that flattered your body type and made you feel sexy. Apparently that was just a ridiculous request. This blouse was cute, but modest, with a ruched, fluted bunching of the fabric in the middle. The collar was low-cut to accent your breasts, but the sleeves were long, which was annoying. You were going dancing tonight with your boyfriend and his coworkers. You didn’t want to show off all of your body, by any means, but you wanted to look hot. Who could blame you? And it was also going to get hot, temperature-wise. Long sleeves just didn’t feel like the most pragmatic choice. 

Sometimes you just gave up and went with the best option. And this blouse, that made you feel like you were going to a casual church event, not to a bar, was, unfortunately, the best option. 

You inhaled sharply and shrugged your shoulders as you looked in the full-length mirror hooked on the back of the closet door. Your hair looked really cute - the two biggest pieces on either side in the front were braided and dangled in front of you, effectively bringing your hair out of your eyes but also provided something to give your hair a little pizzazz. Your makeup looked great - a simple, subtle smokey eye and glossy lips. Your black boots looked good, peeking out from your wide-legged jeans, which hugged your hips and, honestly, made your butt look really good. 

It was just this stupid shirt. And maybe you were getting too much in your head about it. But you were transfixed on it, hating the way the sleeves bunched up a little, how the bottom half flowed beneath the ruched fabric, effectively covering your stomach, meeting your jeans and the top of your thighs. The color was too muted for a going-out top - you wished you could wear something more exciting. 

You sometimes wished you looked like Emily or JJ, or had the self-confidence to rock loud looks like Penelope did. But then you remembered that you were who you were for a reason. You looked like you simply because that was what you looked like. And there was no point in wishing you looked like someone else. 

Plus, Spencer was really into your body. He was nearly always staring at your breasts when you were in private, sometimes to the point where you had to snap your fingers in front of his eyes to garner his attention. 

It was flattering. You didn’t mind it if your boyfriend objectified you a little bit. He was respectful about it. 

“Y/N, are you about ready?” Spencer walked into your bedroom as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes met Spencer’s and you saw his neutral expression turn into a full-fledged grin, biting his tongue and all. “You look really nice,” he said, and you shook your head. 

“I look like a chaperone at a middle school dance,” you frowned, tugging at the fabric of your blouse in some illogical attempt to make it look different. 

“What?” Spencer stood behind you in the mirror. His chin basically met the top of your head, like too puzzle pieces. One hand rested on your hip, while the other slowly brushed your hair to one side so he could press a kiss to your neck. “I think you look great,” he added. 

You immediately felt tingly and your knees wobbled at the action. “But I’m not dressing for you,” you said, your voice instinctively dropping as Spencer’s lips trailed down your neck. You were having trouble concentrating on what you were trying to say. “I’m dressing for me, and I want to look cute. I can’t believe you’re even going tonight. You don’t dance, Spencer,” you pointed out, your self-control somehow beating out your desire for Spencer in the moment. You broke away from him and turned around to face him. 

“You do look cute, Y/N. I don’t understand what the issue is?” Spencer’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at you. “Also, I’m going out tonight because you want to. And I’m trying to keep an open mind. I might enjoy it.” 

You were proud of him. When you started dating about six months ago, he would have simply politely declined an invitation to a night out. And while you didn’t love going out every night, or even every weekend, for that matter, you did enjoy a night out occasionally. 

Regardless, he still didn’t quite understand what you were feeling about that damn shirt. “The issue,” you began, heaving a sigh, “is that I’m insecure about my body. Like any woman. You don’t get it, because you’re a man, and you literally have nothing to be insecure about.”

You knew the words were incorrect the moment you said them, but something kept you from backpedaling. You watched as Spencer shook his head, letting a small laugh escape him. “You could not be further from the truth,” Spencer pointed out, and you knew he was right. Men had plenty to be insecure about, and it was, in some ways, even more difficult for men to express those feelings. 

“Well, I think you’re perfect,” You let a small, playful smile creep onto your face, and Spencer rolled his eyes as you used his own tactic from earlier. He stepped towards you and his hands found your waist, contouring to match your curves. He knew them so well now, he could probably draw a map of your body with his eyes closed. 

“I appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice a little softer as your eyes met his. His head dipped down, and you thought, certainly, that he was going to kiss you, but instead, his lips stopped just barely by your ears. You could feel his breath on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as he spoke. “You might be insecure, Y/N, but I am, too. You’re just human.” 

“What are you insecure about?” You found yourself asking, pulling your head back to look at him properly. Now you were curious. 

“My hands, mostly,” Spencer removed his hands from your waist, holding them palm-up, as if to present them to you for the first time. 

“What’s wrong with your hands?” You asked, placing your palms atop his. 

“They’re really big,” Spencer said timidly, and, admittedly, they were. But just by comparison. Your hands fit into his with plenty of extra space. You used your index fingers to trace his palms. 

“They’re not too big,” you told him, and Spencer just smiled down at you, shaking his head, like he was just humoring you. “I love your hands,” you continued. “I love that you can put your palm over an entire half of my face,” you said, guiding his palm to your cheek and grinning when his skin touched yours. Spencer’s thumb brushed your cheekbone. 

“And I love your body,” Spencer replied, and you just pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, Y/N, listen to me.” 

You let out a frustrated little exhale through your nose and let him continue. 

“I love the way you look. But I wouldn’t care if you were any bigger or any smaller. Because I love you. I’m attracted to you, to your mind, to your sense of compassion, and to your body. I love the way your hips fill out your jeans, how your stomach looks in your yoga pants,” he said. “I love the way you wiggle your toes when we’re watching something funny on TV, how you do a little shimmy in your seat when you’re eating something you really enjoy,” he explained, mimicking the movement. You looped your arms around his neck. “But mostly, I’m in love with your personality. How you challenge me, how you seem to bring out the best version of myself.”

You let out a wistful sigh. If this were a Jane Austen novel, you would have swooned. But instead, you used your grip around his neck to bring his face down to yours and kiss him. It was slow at first, then a little more intense, and when you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his. 

“You ready to go now?” Spencer asked, and when your eyes opened, you saw that he was smiling down at you. 

You shook your head, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “Not yet,” you said, your hands sliding down his arms until your palms met his. You tugged him in the direction of your bed. “I want to show you how much I love these big hands.” 

[mysteriesmuse]

constantly daydreaming abt. Bakugou seeing me in my element doing something I love and I’m good at and just falling head over heels! Katsuki doesn’t really plan to be here. In fact he’s here to meet with his dodgy lecturer professor in office hours to go over an extra credit assignment for his honors college contract. The department building is surprising active as Katsuki storms through midafternoon, near evening — There’s a lot of club activity elsewhere on campus, but classes seem to run late on this half of campus. It’s as he’s walking through the hallway on the main floor that he hears it. Begrudgingly taking an AirPod out to identify whatever noise is interrupting his playlist only to pass by an open rehearsal in a classroom whose door to the outside is wide open on this fine spring day. “Of Fucking Course,” Bakugou grumbles, “leave the door wide open and make a ratchet.” He punctuated his sentiment with a salicious snarled expression; the unpleasant one his mother calls constipated, as he walks past, “stupid band kids.” As Bakugou gets closer he smashes the buttons to pause. Not willing to insult his playlist by having this openly interrupting it. And as the door is wide open he can see inside. And there’s this collection of about 20 or so dorky college students gathered round this one room with someone in front. Then, something that Bakugou can’t explain plants him there in the doorway for longer than a second: A hot second. As he stares at the leader in curiosity. And you’re a small one. A feminine shape of a petite height standing relaxed and firm in the center of this room. And it’s the commanding presence in your voice, the rapt attention of your peers, the dramatic press of you lips and your moving hands that reels him in momentarily.

There’s a demeanor he’s only used to observing in everyday hero’s. It’s the way your feet are pivoted and your hip cocked back as you cross your arms - with a delicious lil swell of the biceps - and elaborate. The elaborately feminine hairdo that rests well beneath the eyesight of your peers; who don’t look up at you, but clearly look up to you. It’s the contract of your lyrical cadence and curt words. There’s a rumble of laugher amoungst the room that floods into his chest from out in the hallway and Bakugou’s gaze flicks to your pleased face — a dazzling smirk that splits into your expression. A person of the people, who knows her audience and how to hit home. And it’s whatever technical jargon and strange humor coupled with pedagogy that drew him in. The results of sound after your little soapbox has him smirking and feeling secondhand pride for this little stranger who’s a badass waif with eyes and a commanding sarcasm. “Shit. she made them sound good,” He compliments in a whisper. And it’s time for him to go when people start to turn over their shoulder and look at him. And he quickly darts away, his curiosity temporarily sedated. ——— Bakugou huffs - he’ll have to schedule another meeting around this time. Just to appreciate the leadership and respect this lil’ girl has managed to wrangle from grown men of his own height and stature — now that was hot.

[lionheartedmusings]

I love how there 2 pretty similar groups of a streamer + 2 eggs (bad, pomme & dapper and tubbo, chayanne & tallulah), who are killing us at the same time but in a COMPLETELY different ways

LITERALLY like i have tubbo's stream open too and keep taking a look, and it's gentle and fun and soft in that... almost naive way? of someone who just showed up and found family and these lil eggs to care for so deeply.

on the other hand you have just... idk bad, dapper, and pomme are such a perfect representation of that loss of rose-tinted glasses? they're paranoia, and grief, and stress, and secrets, and death, and my god so much love. so much love, the sort that's so strong it makes you cry because it has to leave your body so you can breathe.

tubbo's stream is really reminding me of early qsmp and it's a gift bc my god, what a simpler time. bad's stream is a constant reminder that love is the last thing we have going for us, so we better hold it tight.

idk i got on my soapbox but i feel like tonight is magical in a heartbreaking, heartwarming way.

[itsplutohere]

a very appropriately unhinged review of will wood's music (except for icimi)

I rate every will wood song because wtf else do i do with my pathetic life

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con):

10/10-fuck yes we are BOPPING. we are CRIMINALS. we are STARTING OFF STRONG!

Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY (Bones):

4/10-okay we are kinda bing chilling. it’s okay :P kinda triggers me a lil cuz it reminds me of EDs???

Front Street:

10000/10-YESSSSSSSSSSSS YES YES GOING FERAL INJECT THIS INTO MY FUCKING VEINS!!!!!!

¡Aikido! (Neurotic/Erotic):

4.7/10-it slaps a liiiiittle but not that hard. like it kneads. it kneads not slaps.

White Knuckle Jerk (Where Do You Get Off?):

9/10-it both slaps and i can jumpscare ppl with the surgery line??? fuck yes sign me up!!!

Cover This Song (A Little Bit Mine):

2/10-ew too slow. yucky nasty bleh hiss ew hiss

Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D.:

8.5/10-i hold ur M O M in contempt

Red Moon:

10/10-CRIMINALLY UNDERRATED. ME WHEN I WALK THE EQUATOR CHASING THE LIGHT.

Lysergide Daydream:

5/10-mid!!!! muh-muh-muh-MID!!!

The First Step:

9.5/10-MUNCH. OMNOMNOM DINNER NOW. IM JUST A BOOZIN BASTARD,

Jimmy Mushrooms’ Last Drink: Bedtime in Wayne, NJ:

1/10-this exists???

Chemical Overreaction/Compound Fracture:

10/10-when ur an unhinged girlie in the middle of a yeehaw desert

Everything is a Lot:

3.5/10-deep but the deepness doesnt stop it from being too slow for me

Destroy to Enjoy:

7.5/10-surprisingly good for laundromat ambience and chanting??? we r bodhisattva we r buddha dying waking up ig <3

Self-:

7/10-too good for a 6/10 but not good enough for a 8/10. still slaps tho

2012:

9.5/10-FUCK!!!! (inhales) (iwasanexistentialcriminalsoinnocentlycynicalignorantasfuckbutaproudindividual-)

My mom also likes it :D :D :D

Cotard’s Solution (Anatta, Dukkha, Anicca):

8.4/10-starts slow but then GOES UNIMAGINABLY HARD!!!! jumpscare ur friends with it!!!

Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer’s Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to the Fusiform Gyrus):

8/10-me when i try to replace myself.

The Song With Five Names a.k.a. Soapbox Tao a.k.a. Checkmate, Atheists! a.k.a. Neospace Government (A.K.A. You Can Never Know):

30/10-WOOO BABEY. OH MAN OH MAN THIS FUCKS SO HARD. IF IT WAS A PERSON I WOULD MAKE BABIES WITH IT-

THE SONAR WEEOW WEEOW WEEEOOOWWWW AT THE BEGINNING THE SUNSHINE IS A GASLIGHT PART EVERYTHING IS JUST HJADFKHNF

Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!:

8/10-if i ranked it any lower i would self-crucify <3

Dr. Sunshine Is Dead:

7.8/10-i love the funky little way he sings “i fumble for the switch”. you go buddy.

-ish:

6/10-good close to the album but NOT FUNKY ENOUGH

Suburbia Overture/Greetings From Mary Bell Township!/(Vampire) Culture/Love Me, Normally:

9/10-ITS ONLY CULTUUUUUUREEEEEE!!!! AND IT SLAPS!!!! WILL WOOD COOKED FRFR

2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.):

8.5/10-this actually introduced me to william woodsmith :explode: the nostalgia is def a factor

Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!):

100/10-hehe gender

I/Me/Myself:

7/10-g e n d e r

…well, better than the alternative:

3/10-very sweet but too slow for my megamind

Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples:

9/10-i did not know this existed??? still kind of a bop

BlackBoxWarrior-OKULTRA:

10000/10-THIS SLAPS HARDER THAN AN ASIAN PARENT WHEN YOU BRING HOME A B

Marsha, Thankk You For the Dialectics, But I Need You To Leave:

7.5/10-me at therapy

Love, Me Normally:

2/10-boring ew tomato tomato

Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world:

8.5/10-SHOW TUNE ABT DEATH AND ITS INEVITABILITY YESSSS

Venetian Blind Man:

8/10-THIS IS SO UNDERRATED?????

Your Body, My Temple:

7.5/10-will wood had his whole willussy out. this song is so unapologetically horny

Yes, To Err Is Human, So Don't Be One:

9/10-silly vampire bop!!

[beawritingbooks]

Thoughts about Amphibia and The Owl House?

I can't speak on Amphibia as I have never seen it.

However, I have seen The Owl House, and I absolutely LOVE that show!

Is it perfect? No.

But, the queer representation takes my breath away. When I was growing up I had nothing like this. So, for this to exist just makes me so happy!

I love Luz's optimism and determination. She went to a world with no magic, basically invented her own magic there, and managed to heal so many people (and herself) along the way.

I love Willow's journey into finding confidence in herself & her powers, while always finding it in herself to be there for others. Her selflessness and willingness to lend a hand to others, even if they have betrayed her, really showcases the unbreakable nature of her character.

I love Gus's enthusiasm, intelligence, and his competitiveness. Like, he is really skilled, and even though illusions are looked down upon, lil dude absolutely crushes it.

I love Amity, too. At first, I did not like her because I thought she was unnecessarily bitchy to Willow, but Amity's character growth really made me view her differently.

Like, I feel like I could go on and on about Eda, King, Lilith, and so many of the others, too. But, I'll step down off my soapbox now.

[gloriousmessofagirl]

understandable // bradley bradshaw

just a lil’ blurb

warnings: none

Bradley’s eyes were locked on his wife as she chased their chubby, squealing toddler around their yard. He and Maverick nursed their beers, both in their own thoughts. Bradley was beaming as he thought about how fortunate he was – he had his dream job, his dream girl, a beautiful baby girl and another one on the way, the perfect house, the perfect car…the list was endless. Maverick thought about Carol and Goose and how proud they would be of their son. On days like these, he would do anything to trade places with them.

“I understand why you did it now.”

The confusion on Maverick’s was very apparent. His eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to figure out what the man next to him, who would always be a kid in his eyes, was talking about.

Bradley brought the bottle to his lips one more time, “Why you pulled my papers.”

Mav tensed up slightly at the subject but said nothing, letting Rooster continue.

I resented you for a really, long time, Mav,” the taller man spoke truthfully, “but as soon as Nicole was born, it just, it clicked. I can’t even explain it. The first time held her in my arms, she was just so small like a cute potato. And when her little finger wrapped around mine, I knew right then and there that I would do absolutely anything to keep her safe. I just wanted you to know.”

The deep-felt confession meant a lot to the older man, but he could tell Rooster was done with the emotional soapbox, which is why he redirected the conversation, “Do you all have any names picked out?”  

Bradley smiled, “Caroline Lucille Bradshaw for a girl and Peter David Bradshaw for a boy. We find out in two weeks.”