TVSTRANGERTHINGS
★
Janaina Medeiros
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes
ojovivo
No title available
blake kathryn
No title available
we're not kids anymore.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Peter Solarz
KIROKAZE
🪼
taylor price
No title available
No title available
shark vs the universe
Jules of Nature
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@wittyandamusingurl
Do yall remember how crazy it was to watch HR episode 2 and have the sex fade out to more sex. I didn’t know we knew how to do that.
the Canadian government is disrupting the market
Fun fact: this is the tweet that made me watch the show.
Shane writes hockey romance* novels in his spare time and publishes them under a pseudonym (John Dutch) and no one knows except his agent.
A wag somewhere picks one up and discovers the hockey is really accurate and well written from a technical perspective (plus it’s super hot) and convinces her boyfriend or husband or whatever to read it and then somehow it becomes popular among hockey players as a thing that’s kind of a gag but people are also seriously reading it.
Ilya is extremely confused that CLIFF is trying to convince him to read a book but figures he’ll give it a try. Fifty pages in, reading the book on the plane, he suddenly realizes he recognizes the sex scene.
He never says anything to Shane, but starts casually leaving Shane’s books lying around for Shane to notice during their hook-ups.
*i was going to go with ‘gay hockey romance novels’ but then realized cishet hockey romance novels would be objectively funnier
A character trait/dynamic that I'm endlessly compelled by is someone dealing with (or, like, failing to) being the child of people who were too busy being good people to have the time and attention to be good parents. This can be anywhere from 'was a public defender who gave a shit working 60 hour weeks with basically no vacations' to 'left their family behind to join the revolution/war effort and is now a universally beloved martyr-hero who saved/remade the world with their final breath' on the groundedness spectrum. The important thing is a viscerally felt but confused and ugly mess of longing, resentment, and guilt about feeling the resentment.
once my friend made a drink he called turpentine that tasted like every worst college night out rolled into one and felt like getting whacked in the head with a hammer, and I woke up in my own apartment with my phone wallet keys clothes and absolutely zero memory of the night before, and when I checked my watch I'd walked over 60k steps.
60k steps in the middle of the night in heels for reasons entirely unknown to me. what was I doing. where did I go. where did I come from. cotton eye joe. or whatever.
people are theorizing what happened so here's what I know:
the club we went to closed at 2am and 45kish steps were after 2am, meaning I wasn't still dancing at the club. we got there at 11:30pm. I don't know when we left.
none of us had any charges on our cards or venmos after getting into the club and none of us were missing cash
we all woke up with all our things and no injuries except some bruises (to be expected from a night out)
I woke up smelling like salt water which would make me think I'd ended up in the ocean(??) except my hair was still straight, none of my things were water damaged, and I was completely dry
from our camera rolls we know we were all together until around 4am, but not where we were because they're all too dark to see, which is fucking weird because we live in a city with tons of lights all night
I didn't wake my roommates up when coming home, managed to take out my contacts, cooked mac n cheese, and passed out on the living room floor
me and everyone else who'd been wearing heels had crazy blisters
my friend found a bunch of rocks in his pockets
two of my guy friends were wearing each other's shirts when they woke up (in their separate apartments)
we all got back to our apartments around 6am which we know for a fact because we all texted pictures of ourselves being home safe to the group chat, so being unbelievably hammered didn't stop us from having enough common sense to make sure we were all okay
if we'd been able to sherlock holmes together what happened it'd just be a funny night out but the fact we all have no fucking clue means we have conspiracy theories about it. and we don't let my friend make turpentine anymore.
OP went dancing with the 12 dancing princesses pass it on
everyone go home this guy solved it
@professorsparklepants
he's quoting hamilton pre-hamilton
devestating news for you
men and women are literally the same but unfortunately everyone's crazy so we are forced to pretend they're different in some ways.
You can replace [ACTIVITY YOU ENJOY] with [SCROLLING] but watch out. This sucks bad 👍
Some things about this post since getting quite a few notes:
1. If you see this post, highly recommend taking it as an opportunity to set a timer for 15 minutes and switch over to ACTIVITY YOU ENJOY. if after those 15 minutes, you want to go back to scrolling, that's okay!
2. Huge shout out to this popping up in my notifs often, bc I do go back to activity.
3. I think there are times where scrolling is fine. Right now, for example, I'm being connected to a machine for two hours to donate plasma and platelets. Yes this is a brag but it is also a time where scrolling is one of the few things I can do. (Though I will probably also read or watch something on phone lol)
hmmm, this seems to be some kind of curse breaking spell… be free ye reader
The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.
Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.
So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.
Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.
oh shit
As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.
Y'all know what to do Tumblr.
when i was at walgreens (at 3 in the morning which explains all of this) the cashier was talking to her coworker about how shed rather be a werewolf than a vampire because vampires are condemned to hell but werewolves arent and then she asked me what i thought and i said vampire because im already condemned to hell and she said in the nicest tone of voice “i dont think anybody is condemned to hell….” paused, stared at me for a few moments, and added on “…not even gay people”
Happy pride month to the filthiest most brutal read I’ve ever been given in my life
thanks keyboard, when I accidentally typed hest instead of best I totally wanted the hest (norwegian word for horse) emoji
It can happen to the
of us
It was the hest of times, it was the horse of times
Operation Mincemeat as Jak Malone Tweets
Parts [1] [2] [3] [4]
Bonus, because it made me laugh out loud:
I've been thinking more about the Grandpa Scott chirp situation. I liked playing with it at the end of this fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/80197701 but I want it to reach a point where Kip tells Scott that the best thing to do is just lean into it, and after spending some time digging his heels in, Scott concedes this might be a reasonable option. If anything associated with Rozanov is ever reasonable.
Scott adds "The Grandbaby" to the list of cocktails in The Kingfisher. It's not really a cocktail, it's just a double of very nice russian vodka.
Scott starts sending Ilya birthday cards that say "To My Favourite Grandson" with ten bucks inside
Ilya LOVES this. Like, actually it makes him slightly teary. Obviously he can't tell Scott that though. Shane tells Kip that it's such a nice thing for Ilya, though, as he has no grandparents or parents left...and of course neither does Scott. Kip doesn't tell Scott what Shane says, but does encourage him to continue.
Ilya does a "shout out to my Grandpa on his birthday" during a post game interview, which the press accept at the time, but social media immediately has questions - a grandparent in Russia??? It didn't seem like he had support from family in Russia? His parents are both dead?
Scott scores a hat trick and the next day a fruit basket is delivered to the locker room with a card attached to the top reading "still got it Grandpa 🧡"
Scott gets asked about post game plans when the admirals play the centaurs, and says "family time" and the press are too confused to ask further questions. He later puts a pic on insta of him with Ilya out for drinks with #grandbaby on it and no other comment - the comments are a MESS. The comments are more of a mess when Ilya reposts it with #grandpa. Is this some weird sexual thing?! It's very much a pals picture though, and Ilya is definitely seen leaving with Shane.
Scott is mic'd up during their next game against each other so Ilya's chirp that "grandpa you need to speed up if you are going to score today" gets picked up followed by "swearing at your grandbaby isn't nice" after Scott flips him off. After that game Ilya gets asked about it by the press - "what's going on with you and Hunter referring to each other as grandparent/grandson?" "My grandfather is hockey fossil and still good enough to play in league I bet you all are jealous, no?" This backhanded compliment clears up precisely nothing.
Scott sends a "favourite grandson" Christmas card, and Ilya keeps it up on the fridge after the other cards get taken down
Not to be rhe ten millionth person to say “USAmerican President Donald Trump Is An Incoherent Public Speaker Whose Train Of Thought Can Be Best Described As Scat Jazz” but I just remembered that when he talks at international events it is several dozen people’s job to translate what he’s saying and what he intends to say to world leaders in real time
And I desperately wish to hear how they do it
If anyone reading this isn’t fluent enough in English to understand the sentences that man says, please know that he has essentially mixed a number of adjectives and topics together in a hat and is pulling them out at random like a horrible children’s game
Like that waxy jaundiced bitch will straight up be like “J'étais sur internet l'autre jour – internet, la plus grande invention américaine. Et la Chine a “internet aussi. Pas un bon internet, pas comme le mien, j'ai un internet formidable. Les gens me disent : « Donald, ton internet est génial ! » On adore l'internet de Donald. Mais la Chine… Chine, Chine, Chine… Vous savez qu'ils mangent des oiseaux ? C'est terrible. J'adore les oiseaux. La Chine mange des oiseaux. Pas comme nous. Pas comme mes oiseaux. Mais vous savez, c'est comme ça, et c'est terrible. Mais voilà ce que je vais faire : je vais sauver les oiseaux. Je vais sauver internet et sauver les oiseaux. Tous ces magnifiques oiseaux. Pour l'Amérique. Et la Chine va nous détester pour ça. Ils vont nous détester parce qu'on est les meilleurs sur oiseaux”. And people will lose their minds
International translators have had this problem for A While - if they *don't* clean up what he says to sound coherent, they look like they're doing a bad job.
Explore Trump translation challenges, tips for interpreters, and 2025 strategies for accurate political translation and Trumpslation success
oh my god
Back in the early days of dating my beloved wife we ended up breaking up for about three months for a variety of life reasons. Shocking no one we were extremely close during our interim, spending a lot of time together as fRiEnDs. This was excruciating for basically everyone in our lives who all wanted us to just go back to dating.
At one point I was looking at cute dresses online. Theres one site that lets you get them tailored right to you, which I really wanted, but I didn’t know how to measure myself and my beloved did.
So I showed up with the sheet of measurements at their house ready to be measured. Our friend Richard acting as an unofficial chaperone while not so secretly rooting for us to get back together called out what to measure next from the couch and logged what my beloved reported. The measuring tape gently looped my anatomy like an indirect caress.
It was an exercise worthy of fanfic. Each measurement grew more and more intimate from waist to inseam to thigh radius. My beloved and I were trying to pretend sparks and sexual tension weren’t flying off us in an invisible fireworks display but the final measurement brought them right into my crotch and they finally burst out, “What’s next?! Distance between labia?!”
The tension broke and we had a good laugh. We got back together shortly after the event. We both still like to joke about the homoerotic montage of that afternoon.
saw this on pinterest but i think it belongs here too
this will never not be important
