#anythings possible

[ryssbelle]

she do be sensing things

[mostunderratedawards]

Most Underrated Lead Actor in A Limited Series /TV Movie

Joel Kim Booster in Fire Island

John Cho in Don't Make Me Go

Trevante Rhodes in Mike

Sam Claflin in Daisy Jones and the Six

Abubakr Ali in Anything’s Possible

Ben Platt in The People We Hate at the Wedding

[thisqueerlove]

|| Anything's Possible (2022) || 4/5🌟 || Romance, Drama || "A delightfully modern Gen Z coming-of-age story that follows Kelsa, a confident high school girl who is trans, as she navigates through senior year. When her classmate Khal gets a crush on her, he musters up the courage to ask her out, despite the drama he knows it could cause. What transpires is a romance that showcases the joy, tenderness, and pain of young love."

Content Warning: Transphobia, Misgendering.

This was so sweet.

That talk between Kelsa and her mother in the car had me crying omg.

Trans people deserve love stories.

Trans people deserve happy endings.

Queer Film everyday of June 3/30 🏳️‍🌈

[steelbluehome]

I feel like I need to reiterate this, Americans, we do not EVER turn anyone in for the reward money, because the reward money is a LIE!

There will be a reason they come up with for not giving it to you. Even Nancy, the snitch at McDonald's, who everyone in the world knows turned in Luigi Mangione, will not get a penny of the reward money. The reason she is getting is that she called 911 instead of the tip line.

But there are other reasons, like, the cops already had the info you gave them from "other sources". "Lots of other people" called in the same tip. The reward was "up to" the amount promised, so you're getting $1.50. You didn't do the proper paperwork before you gave the tip. And just about anything else you can think of.

They won't give any money out until the person is actually convicted, not just arrested. It could take years for a case to even get to court. If the suspect takes a plea deal, then did your info really lead to a "conviction"? Or by the time the suspect is convicted, suddenly the money is not there. Reward money? What reward money? It isn't like they have it sitting in a box waiting to hand it over to you after the conviction. No, after the conviction, now they need to try to find the amount they put up for the reward. And who's budget is that going to come out of? Who wants to put that money in your pocket instead of their own? Okay? Understand? Got it?

You never get the reward money!

[imthefailedartist]

Anything's Possible is so stinking cute.

Kelsa and Kahlid are adorable.

Fuck Prime for not promoting it and just dumping it with no ceremony.

Interracial, and none of them are them white!!! Yay!

Why the only dark skin black characters transphobic? Don't like that.

[aflawedfashion]

I would not have guessed Disney/Marvel would be the ones to make the show about middle aged gay witches I’ve always wanted, but here we are

[bloodsoakedbuckley]

i am inches away from putting together a mustache eddie collage.

[makenna-made-this]

Okkkkkk so where is Chicken Miku?

Anon the way i dropped everything when i saw this

HATSUNE BEAK-U

(based on the Onagadori chicken breed)

[egophiliac]

did this as a quick scribble at like 1 AM last night and...immediately lost all motivation to ever clean it up. ( ᐛ ) but I had to draw my son being the fanciest little flower boy who ever threw petals down an aisle. oh my god.

[curiouslymyown]

I love how quickly we can get the ao3 tag trending like it crashed 5 minutes ago?

[opashoo]

I'm absolutely losing my mind seeing "We need to not treat men and masculinity as inherently evil and worthy of hatred, and not fall back into biological and gender essentialism because that hurts everyone, including trans women" being misinterpreted as "Women need to stop oppressing men", "I think trans women are actually men" or "You specifically who have trauma around men need to get over it because men are the real victims". It's so willfully disingenuous. It makes me sick how willing people are to read in bad faith, especially how willing other trans women are to suddenly start harassing and dogpiling another trans woman.

I am a trans woman too, I understand what it's like to feel unsafe, but it helps no one this cynical attitude that crops up every time someone suggests being kind to men in our lives. "You could save a man you know from falling down the alt-right pipeline" is not the same as "It's your fault that men murder you". "There are people who could be on our side if we don't meet them with immediate hostility" is not the same as "You need to shut up and stop criticizing power structures for the sake of your oppressors' feelings" (I promise there are a lot of people who can be taught about their complicity in oppression without immediately shutting down but you need to work with them). This kind of attitude isn't somehow more informed or correct. It's just lashing out to avoid considering one's own agency.

Making a better, safer world for ourselves requires all kinds of work, but it's always work. It's hard to try to reach out to people who could very realistically harm us, it's work that not all of us can afford to or are able to do and that's fine because we're all just trying to survive. But some of you would rather condescend, tear each other down, and make more enemies before even considering it a possibility.

[maculategiraffe]

Imagine you are a duckling, but you're not very good at it.

You're not pretty and yellow and graceful like your siblings, like the other ducklings you see swimming and walking around. Also, when you try to talk to them, they don't seem to understand. You can understand them, because they are speaking in the only language you have ever heard spoken, but when you try to speak it it doesn't come out right. It's like there's something wrong with your throat.

Your parents, your siblings, tell you to make more of an effort to fit in, so you do. You watch the other ducklings and do your utmost to copy them exactly: the way they move, the noises they make. There's not much you can do about your weird gray down or your bizarre, ungainly shape, but everything you can do to fit in, to get along, you do.

You're still not very good at it, but you're trying. Maybe you'll get better at it as you grow up. Maybe if you work really, really hard, someday, you'll be a good duck.

But in actual fact, it just gets worse as you grow. Your neck starts elongating grotesquely, unnaturally. When your grown-up feathers start to come in, they're not even the ugly dirty gray your down was; they're ghastly white, like sun-bleached bone. You get bigger and bigger, much bigger than any grownup duck you've ever seen; you turn into a hideous, deformed giant, towering over your horrified parents. They don't understand what they did wrong to make you turn out like this.

And then, one day, for the first time, swimming miserably across the lake, with your big ugly clumsy white body, you see a pair of adult swans.

And you say very quietly to yourself, in your strange ugly rasping voice (you're suddenly wondering how those birds sound when they talk)...

... oh.

[hungharrington]

thinking about getting fingered by Steve in the backseat of his car and being crowded against the door and sitting at an awkward angle but not moving because the thought of his fingers losing that spot is a million times worse than the sore neck… just UGHHH 😩

a hungharrington fic? in 2025? i'm just as surprised as you <3 1.3k, fem!reader, what the prompt says hehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

The numbers on the dashboard blink in the night, reflecting the late night hour.

From the outside, Steve's car looks unassuming, parked in between the trees out by Skull Rock.

You're given away only by the faint fogging of the windows, though you have little doubt of how steamy they'll be soon enough. With the hot heat of Steve's mouth against the skin of your neck and the surety of his fingers, curling closer between your thighs, it's not an if, it's a when.

"God, I missed you s'much," He murmurs heavily. His words get smothered beneath his own fervent kisses, your skin tingling beneath the attention. He can't bring himself to break away from you for more than a moment.

Steve had headed out of Hawkins for the better part of a week, dragged by his parents who wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd returned just tonight, maroon car glinting the last of the evening sun up at your window.

You'd slipped down and taken the passenger seat always reserved for you.

And then, somewhere between there and now, Steve had cajoled you into the backseat, his hazel eyes bright with an adoring lust as he nipped at your neck.

"Missed you too," You gasp breathily.

Tilting back, your head gently hits the glass of the car window behind you. Your hair wipes some of the fog off and Steve nibbles a soft lovebite under your ear, soothing it with his tongue. His hands paw hungrily at your waist and you grapple to find purchase on his shoulders.

"Not as much as me, baby," Steve pants.

He finally pulls himself back from his affectionate attack on your neck, eyes darker, face flushed. His hand on your waist slides forward, following the line of your hips forward, down, til he's cupping your cunt. You think you get a little lightheaded from the way your blood rushes south, gloriously hot at the touch.

He kisses you, his groan seeping into your mouth. It fills your head, heavy and sticky with lewd thoughts.

"Thought of you every," He rubs you through the denim softly. "Damn," Another rub, more pressure this time. "Day."

You keen, hips canting forward, searching for more of that delicious friction. Steve gives you what you want; he always does. You reward him, your hands on his shoulders shifting. You twine your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, just how he likes it.

The inside of the car feels much, much warmer now. The windows can't be seen through anymore and it seems to cast the red light of the dashboard clock much further. Steve's heavy breath fanning across your face is the loudest thing in the car.

You should've worn a skirt, you think— right as Steve asks, "Can I?" his hand now up, thumbing at the button of your jeans.

His check-in douses the ember within you with gasoline, burning hotter, brighter, in an instant. You know what he's asking for, know exactly how well Steve knows how to use his fingers. The thought of them buried in you, crooked just right, suddenly has you aching for it.

Nodding, you murmur out your yes' as you shuffle about, working to kick off your shoes quickly. Steve pulls back to not be in the way, jumping back in time to help you peel the denim off from your legs.

You manage to get your fingertips beneath the elastic of your panties before you're interrupted.

"Keep them on," Steve says, knocking your hand aside. He surges back in, his fervour undulled, and his large hands find your hips, tugging forward.

You end up slightly perched in his lap, slightly pressed into the back corner against the window and the seat. It's an awkward position but when the warmth of Steve's fingers pet your cunt again, cotton stickier now, you can forgive it. You sling your arms around his neck to get closer.

"That's it," Steve murmurs lowly. He ducks his head to reignite every lovebite left on your neck as his fingers get bolder, pressing firmer. Your breath gets thinner, chest heaving more and more.

"God, my girl," He breathes, fingers spreading the wetness up and over your clit tantalizingly. You mewl at his too-soft motions, needing more.

"Steve," You urge.

He doesn't make you wait. Pinching the edge, he pulls your panties to the side and then dips his fingers into the well of slick wet waiting eagerly for him.

You make matching groans; Steve moaning at heat of your inviting cunt, wrapped around him, and you sighing at the way his long digit sinks into you, slow and so sweet.

"Steve," You say his name again, this time a honey, lusty thing.

Steve breaks his kiss to moan against your neck, feeding on the obvious salacious eagerness in you. His finger draws back and then he sinks it back in, beginning slowly to fuck it in and out.

"Missed you," He whispers. A second finger prods at your entrance and eases in gently, sending a streak of something white hot down your spine. Your arms around his neck tighten.

"Missed this," He continues, still a whisper. He's picking up the pace now, having found a lazy rhythm, fingers sliding in and out of your cunt so perfectly that it makes your clit twitch, envious and missing out.

You whine into the crook of his neck. "Me too."

Then, just as you think the angle of your back might be just a tad too uncomfortable, Steve curls his fingers.

A gaspy noise escapes your throat. Desire pulses wildly and you can feel the way you flutter around his fingers. Steve's other hand on your waist tightens, gripping you tightly.

"Fuuuck," He groans. "I missed that too."

Then he does it again, fingers crooked to hit that perfect spot that makes you feel like you might cry if he rubbed it too much. Your noises sound much louder now, jagged and pitching up.

"You're such a tease, honey," Steve accuses, his motions not slowing. "Keeping me from this. Keeping all your cute noises to yourself."

And, as if he'll know what it'll do, he stretches his hand, veins bulging in his forearm, and plants his thumb on your clit. You jolt against the new stimulation, another cute gaspy noise, and Steve moans against your neck.

His hand keeps moving, fingers still plunging into your sopping cunt, thumb rubbing tight, small circles on your clit. You cling to him, hips rolling to meet his strokes, the heat in you building, suddenly desperately fast. Your breathing comes out heavy and if it's not a moan, it's his name that slips from between your lips.

"Feelin' good? M' making my girl feel good?" He says raspily. "You deserve it, being left alone. So mean of me."

Something fiery swells within you and you inhale sharply, squeaking out Steve's name in warning. His hand, which must be cramping much like your poor back, still rocks into you, unfaltering.

"C'mon, let me have it. Please," He pleads. "Let me see you cum f'me, honey."

The sincere thread in his voice, the genuine plead, is what unravels your last ties. You tremble, lusty and quivering sounds that you bury away in his neck, as you ride his fingers through a dazzlingly hot high. It drags on, nerves glittering with a fresh coat of pleasure that have you whining Steve's name pitifully.

When your breath starts to settle, Steve eases his fingers out, already beginning to pepper little kisses along the side of your head.

"That was big, huh?" He says. It's mostly care in his voice but there, in the back, is a smidgen of smugness.

"Shhhh," You shush him, still gathering yourself, eyes closed. You body gives a volatile twitch when Steve politely moves your panties back to their original position. "I'm deciding if that was worth fucking up my back a little bit for."

Steve makes a wounded noise, realising that he'd had you crowded up in an uncomfortable position the whole time. He's a worrier. That's enough to make you lift your head off his shoulder, eyes lidded low.

"Mmm, decided." You hum, the pleased smile of post-bliss on your face. Steve softens at the sight of it, at your easy happiness. "Worth it."

[milktrician]

(what the. who threw a wife plot device in the middle of a peak lord meeting)

i thought about this bit at the end of the airplane extras the other day. bro why are you looking at your coworkers like that rn

[valahelart]

sinsmas predictions (delusional)