#at least it’s the new year here for me

[imagine-lassie]

Imagine Lassie counting down to midnight with you, pulling you in for a kiss the moment the new year begins.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[hinamie]

cursed kids v2 ⚠️👹

i've been a jjk first years stan since day one and have been wanting to redraw the first art i did featuring the three of them

[kimtaegis]

Destination: your heart Estimated Time of Arrival: whenever you need him ➤ for @jung-koook ♡

[reasonsforhope]

People ask me sometimes how I'm so confident that we can beat climate change.

There are a lot of reasons, but here's a major one: it would take a really, really long time for Earth to genuinely become uninhabitable for humans.

Humans have, throughout history, carved out a living for themselves in some of the most harsh, uninhabitable corners of the world. The Arctic Circle. The Sahara. The peaks of the Himalayas. The densest, most tropical regions of the Amazon Rainforest. The Australian Outback. etc. etc.

Frankly, if there had been a land bridge to Antarctica, I'm pretty sure we would have been living there for thousands of years, too. And in fact, there are humans living in Antarctica now, albeit not permanently.

And now, we're not even facing down apocalypse, anymore. Here's a 2022 quote from the author of The Uninhabitable Earth, David Wallace-Wells, a leader on climate change and the furthest thing from a climate optimist:

"The most terrifying predictions [have been] made improbable by decarbonization and the most hopeful ones practically foreclosed by tragic delay. The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse. Over the last several months, I’ve had dozens of conversations — with climate scientists and economists and policymakers, advocates and activists and novelists and philosophers — about that new world and the ways we might conceptualize it. Perhaps the most capacious and galvanizing account is one I heard from Kate Marvel of NASA, a lead chapter author on the fifth National Climate Assessment: “The world will be what we make it.”" -David Wallace-Wells for the New York Times, October 26, 2022

If we can adapt to some of the harshest climates on the planet - if we could adapt to them thousands of years ago, without any hint of modern technology - then I have every faith that we can adjust to the world that is coming.

What matters now is how fast we can change, because there is a wide, wide gap between "climate apocalypse" and "no harm done." We've already passed no harm done; the climate disasters are here, and they've been here. People have died from climate disasters already, especially in the Global South, and that will keep happening.

But as long as we stay alive - as long as we keep each other alive - we will have centuries to fix the effects of climate change, as much as we possibly can.

And looking at how far we've come in the past two decades alone - in the past five years alone - I genuinely think it is inevitable that we will overcome climate change.

So, we're going to survive climate change, as a species.

What matters now is making sure that every possible individual human survives climate change as well.

What matters now is cutting emissions and reinventing the world as quickly as we possibly can.

What matters now is saving every life and livelihood and way of life that we possibly can.

[xbasement-baitx]

Fill me up, feeling like a ravenous animal

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[aquanutart]

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[chalkrub]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

1. 11,390 notes - Sep 3 2024

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5. 1,806 notes - Jun 1 2024

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Created by TumblrTop10

waow 2024 is almost dead!!! gone too soon. feels like it’s been a big year for me art-wise for many reasons, BUT. i’m making 2025 bigger.... hopefully....i’ve made some art goals for next year which i won’t explain in detail but they boil down to 1) do more studies 2) tackle my weaknesses (backgrounds, dynamic poses/angles, uhhh lots of stuff i am a one trick pony right now) 3) get into drawing comics, all of which are in preparation for 4) take my story ideas more seriously and get started on one of the many graphic novels living in my head. i have one in mind i HAVE to complete in my lifetime or i will die, but firstly i’m gonna mess around with some little standalone svanhildr comics perhaps. goat fans rejoice. 

anyway i wasn’t meant to ramble so i’ll just say THANK YOU for the support as always!!! i’m very flattered all of these have more than 1000 notes.....crazy. thank you. muah

[10yearsofdnp]

December 31, 2014: Looking back, 10 years later... I think he did just that! ❤️🥠

[ricciardo133]

July 2018

maxiel, Daniel genderswap, pining, drunken hook-up alluded to

-

Max wakes up slowly, feeling a girl cling to his side in the hotel bed. He can't remember Daniel and him inviting girls over to their shared room to unwind after Silverstone, but they did drink an inadvisable amount. Daniel had drank some noxiously sweet wine that some fan had gifted him. Idiotic, Max had thought. Max stuck to gin, a drink that normally doesn't leave him feeling this discombobulated. He feels wrecked, sore, and achy. He doesn't even feel ready to open his eyes.

The woman beside him stretches and sighs. "Rough night, eh, Maxy?" she says in a familiar Australian lit.

They both freeze.

Max sits up, slapping around the hotel lamp until he finds the switch. He stares wide-eyed at the woman lying beside him, her mass of dark curls against tan skin. Her wide, familiar eyes with that distinctive nose set between. Her hands are flung over her mouth, but Max can still see the right tattoos in the right places, only against different curves.

He glances down at perky, bare tits and soft, wide hips, and then back up in embarrassed shock.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah."

"You're a girl."

"So I've noticed."

Max gets up, starkly aware of his own nudity. He fumbles in the morning light for clothes, glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants.

He's still quite himself, but the hickeys are new. He didn't know his face could feel this hot. He mentally feels memories from last night brush against his psyche in frustratingly fleeting snippets. Biting down on soft thighs. Warmth and tightness. Hard nipples in his mouth. God, he thinks, we finally did it and I can't fucking remember shit.

He looks back, seeing Daniel is gone. He panics and hustles to the bathroom where not-Daniel-but-still-Daniel stands and assess his body.

"Wow, kinda thought girl-me would have a bigger rack."

"You're taking this well."

"Well, obviously, we're dreaming."

"Hm."

Daniel twists in his spot, watching his reflection as he gives his ass a smack. Max is immediately hard.

"Daniel."

"Max," he echoes with faux shock. "Relax, this is, like, a seriously vivid dream. A horny one at that. I think we boned last night."

Max can't utter a word. He just watches as Daniel feels up his own body, smaller hands drifting over smooth skin. His nails skate along his thigh's tattoos, upwards to drift along fine hair between his legs. Max squirms and feels anything but asleep.

"So real," Daniel whispers.

"Can you maybe put something on?" Max begs. Daniel cocks an eyebrow and smirks. Max feels unnerved seeing his expressions in a feminine font. Daniel's refreshing confidence always made Max feel... too much. Like if he wasn't careful, he could spill over with it all. Watching Daniel now fondle his chest, pressing the small mounds together as he assessed himself in the mirror, Max felt ready to burst.

And they fucked. He turns and heads out to the hotel room.

Life is cruel and this dream sucks and he wishes he could remember.

"Hey, Max, hey," Daniel soothes, coming up behind him and blessedly covered in a hotel towel. "I seriously think this can't be real. Just like...what's that DiCaprio film?"

"Huh? Inception?"

"Yeah, that one. Just a really, really good...weird dream."

"Okay, then hit me." Max walks up to Daniel. He's not used to being this much taller. He feels dizzy again with need, wanting nothing more than to pin the older Aussie down on the bed. To hike his soft yet strong legs over his shoulders. Maybe it'd be fine if they did it again, since it maybe is an impossible dream and Daniel's not a boy right now. Not that it mattered normally. Max didn't care, he just wanted to feel him all over again.

"What?" Daniel smiles, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"In dreams, that's how you wake up. Like, a kick to jolt you awake, right?"

"Oh, right. Yeah, we should wake up."

Max leans closer and turns his cheek.

"I'm not smacking you, Max. Here," Daniel takes Max's hand in his. All Max wants was to knit their fingers together, to feel the way his palm is finally bigger than Daniel's. "We'll do it to ourselves, okay?"

Daniel places Max's hand against his own cheek. He watches the gorgeous woman in front of him mirrors him, hand raised gently, fingertips against the curls that fall so, so long down to the middle of Daniel's back. He'd look so good with hair like that even as a boy. Max thinks to tell him this and stops himself.

"On three, yeah?"

"Okay."

Daniel counts down, in that singsong voice that's his but not his pitch. Max tries to commit it to memory as he gives himself a just-too-painful slap.

And nothing changes. The only thing that changes is now Daniel panics.

"Holy fucking shit, Max."

"Daniel-"

"This is real."

"We'll fix this," Max tries as Daniel starts tearing apart the hotel room. Max glances at the clock on the nightstand while Daniel goes on a heated search for something. "We don't have to leave for the flight for two hours."

Christ. He pictures telling their team anything. Daniel can still race, of course, Max thinks. He'll just need a new suit that fits better. And some adjustments to the car's seat fit. And a good PR statement that, yes, something impossible happened overnight but no worries we'll be set for Hockenheim so don't worry about how this happened.

"This!" Daniel says, leaping up to Max and putting a small card in his hand. "This is why! Read it. It came with the wine that hot girl gave me."

Max rolls his eyes and reads it. He narrows his gaze. "A change, temporary, good for two? What's that mean?"

"Beats me, but read it again. Temporary." He sighs, letting his head knock back. Max stares at the line of hickeys down Daniel's thinner neck, too faint. "I do kinda miss my dick."

"How does it feel?" Max asks despite himself. "To be a girl?"

"Good, I guess." Does Daniel press his thighs together reflexively, Max wonders. He feels pent up and horny again. "Like, I don't mind it, but it'll be hell to buy a whole new wardrobe," he attempts to joke through shaky laughs.

"Maybe that note meant 'two' like in two times," Max says, voice quiet.

All he can hear for a moment is the whirl of the hotel aircon. He watches Daniel's feminine frame, his big eyes and wet lips.

"Can you remember any of it?" Daniel asks, voice barely registering above the whirl.

"Not much."

"And it kinda doesn't count, right? Because I'm not really me right now, so its okay? And you don't mind?"

It can count, Max wants to beg. It can. It can be okay after, too. It can be okay all the time.

"I don't mind. You're hot as a girl." The last three words feel too final. Daniel's shoulders fall as he nods.

"Yeah, a stunner, huh? So, well, we'll take her for one last ride."

Finally, Daniel walks up and pushes Max onto the hotel bed. Max's mind reels as Daniel lets the towel drop. Two breasts in Max's face as he feels thighs straddle his waist. His hands fly up to trace eager lines up Daniel's spine and rake gentle tracks back down with his nails. They both shudder.

"Last time, right?" Daniel says between kisses down Max's neck. Max feels his eyes water. It doesn't have to be. But he doesn't say anything. He flips Daniel over on the bed, body tenting over the smaller frame. And this time, he focuses. He wants to make Daniel feel good. He wants to come inside. He wants to etch every moment deep in his mind, so he'll remember every gasp, every touch, every sigh.

[julijbee]

im sure everything will be okay ･ᴗ･

[gomzdrawfr]

Bam bing bong, summary of my doodles in 2024

[agenderduck]

This is one of many posts I have planned on electricity. For this post specifically, I’m touching on the lack of autonomy the puppets have, and the unhealthy coping mechanisms and regression they fall into. If you listen closely, duck and red are talking about stain edwards, specifically how they had been used as a replacement for duck, in the background while yellow is preparing to climb the staircase. Considering the bigger boys actions later on in the episode, this feels more significant than just a joke or a piece of background dialogue (it probably is, just bear with me for the sake of over analysis). It’s a detail I don’t see brought up often, but an interesting one nonetheless. Not just because it’s funny, but because it serves as insight for what’s to come. This conversation is barely audible as yellow stares up into the black abyss above him. A divide between the trio is set up here, they are not on the same page. As yellow scales the staircase, base level red and duck fiddle with electricity. Theres a lack of care for the objects, or even living things around them showcasing that have that potential to do worse like the big and bigger boys. On a smaller scale, yes, but there’s a colder quality to the scene. Electracy warns them that what they’re doing is too much, but they are ignored. This ultimately leads to the power outage, spurred on by the two’s reckless over usage of electricity

The limited use of technology, and by contrast overconsumption is intentional, as it showcases a real lack of freedom. The puppets are stuck in a cycle regardless of what they do. They desperately want to feel in control of something even if it’s trivial. When they’re not doing that, the trio find themselves waiting for things like having access to a computer once a year. It’s worth noting that Colin is an older model of computer, as is pretty much every other piece of technology in the house. Interestingly, the trio do actually own a laptop, which is a lot more modern in appearance. They are never seen doing anything with it however. The few things that do take on a more modern appearance are either unusable or serve as a distraction. So the choice of duck having a hand held device in the void feels significant. It’s almost like a reminder to the audience that in theory, knowledge is right outside of their grip but they will never have it. Everything they do is limited.

The fridge scene is a rare moment where we see the puppets speak their genuine feelings, no strings attached. Not at all one sided or hollow. Duck and Red sit beside each other in the fridge scene knowing this is not something they’re allowed to have, but you can tell they want to scoot closer. They live in an unforgiving routine where the mere act of looking at each other feels like rebellion. They’re something more tangible and warm than their bigger counterparts, even if through skin made of cheap felt and faux fur. Compare this to the cold emptiness of the big and bigger boys and how duck and red seem to grow further apart despite always being paired together. Even if they’re sitting at a similar length in both rooms, the bigger boys seem to be magnetically pulled apart rather than together. The big boys sit side by side with their limbs tangled, in defiance maybe, but they don’t question their environment anymore and the walls have gotten smaller. The bigger boys live in a pseudo- futuristic prison. They have become the technology seen being fiddled with before. They play into each other’s antics, but lack any real emotion which greatly upsets yellow once he comes across them. He watches as they poke and prod at a suspiciously stain edwards shaped hunk of meat as their only source of entertainment, thinking that this is as good as it gets. Technology prodding at flesh. A parallel between Stain Edwards and the puppets can be drawn here.

Stain Edwards, in their initial appearance clearly craves more in life, but their sole purpose is to be moldable, to be shaped into anything the hands that grasp them want them to be. The trio are the same way, though they don’t know it. They’re obviously not aware of their true situation, but each of them have their own level of awareness, albeit in different areas, but that’s a different post for a different time. Red and duck comply and mold to their environments out of fear, a fear of losing that false sense of control. So, the bigger boys become the perpetrators of violence. They let bitterness consume them until they’re unrecognizable. Their egos get the better of them, fully encompassing them and leaving nothing but mechanical empty husks behind. Red and Duck are tricked into believing they’re in control, when in reality they’ve dug themselves into an even deeper hole than before. They expect yellow to join them, as this is just the way things are, and this horrifies him. Here before him are creatures that sound vaguely like his friends but in a completely unrecognizable form. Ultimately, no matter what form they take on, yellow’s urge to search for answers will always scare them. Yellow’s batteries means change, and change means bad things will happen. No more false sense of control. Yellow literally has his awareness stolen from him time and time again through his batteries. Without them, not only can’t he properly articulate himself, but he also can’t remember what happened before.

Yellow loves his friends, he knows that they’re flawed, and he can’t help but scale back down the staircase time and time again to help them. They’re all he has. He knows that they’re smart to an extent, but is that enough? Will they be able to handle it this time? I think he knows the answer to this already, though he desperately wants it not to be true. He knows that it’s not their fault that they get like this, but also maybe it is. Because truthfully the two like to let it get worse. Yellow sees the good in Duck and red and he wants them to do better, even if his efforts are in vain. Because the puppets do not have autonomy. He shreds the book because he can’t bear a reality where his friends don’t love him, but also because that’s where his strings are pulling him to begin with. He looks to duck as he does so knowing it will make him happy, as if to say he’s not wrong anymore. All he ever wants is to please him. Truthfully, that book had nothing that could truly help them , as such a thing doesn’t exist. Still there’s that small thought in the back of his mind that it could, and ultimately he chooses his friends over knowledge every time. It was never his choice to begin with. It was inevitably going to end this way, and a small part of yellow knows that, even if he can’t express it. The puppets are prisoners here, prisoners to another prisoner. She too participates in the same routines everyday, she too has strings that hold her back, but that’s a post for another day.