Updated Masterlist
Reblogs are the lifeblood of writers on Tumblr. Thank you to everyone who likes and/or shares my work.
$LAYYYTER

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★
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pixel skylines
YOU ARE THE REASON
almost home
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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i don't do bad sauce passes
One Nice Bug Per Day
Monterey Bay Aquarium
hello vonnie
sheepfilms

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

blake kathryn

if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@nomadicpixel
Updated Masterlist
Reblogs are the lifeblood of writers on Tumblr. Thank you to everyone who likes and/or shares my work.
on the use of the word "okay" in thedas
So, "okay" is a word that doesn't appear much in DA dialogue through the first three installments, though it's become quite common by Veilguard.
Likely not an intentional evolution, but a symptom of the fact that the language used in DAV is generally more contemporary than the other installments. Still. Let's play in the space. Because it's not that no one uses "okay" before then. It's actually a relatively common Varric word -- he says it in both DA2 and DAI.
Obvious conclusion: "Okay" is dwarven slang.
(Corollary headcanon: Increased contact with the surface has spread dwarven slang more widely. Perhaps even helped by the popularity of Varric's books...)
Over my breakfast this morning I stared into space wondering what the origins of "OK" could be in the dwarven context. Orzammar is the obvious O. So... Orzammar Kingdom? Orzammar King?
Of course. "OK" is the seal that Orzammar's king uses to express that a document has his approval.
Don't worry everyone. It all makes sense now.
Reenactor throws a spear at a drone
What a time to be alive.
“The medieval warrior, realizing the consequences of his impulsive act, immediately approached the owner of the drone and offered to pay for the damage.
The owner of the drone was so impressed by the brilliant attack that he suggested organizing a competition for bringing down “dragons” with short spears next year.
Drone owners have another year to develop a unique “dragon-like” design for their flying machines.” (x)
I am 100% cooler with this knowing that the spear-thrower realized “oops maybe I shouldn’t have done that” and tried to make it right, and that the guy who the drone belonged to was cool with it
just so everyone knows, this has already been memorialized in a runestone
Everything about this post blesses those involved with a +4 on their next Today is Good Day roll
a rough translation of inscription on the runestone:
On the seventh day of May in the year of 2016 on hither spot the mighty warrior Ulf hath slain a dragon with his spear.
so yeah, happy birthday to this dragon-slaying event and to it only
Happy Ulf Hath Slain A Dragon With His Spear!
Tumblr heritage post.
Umberto Eco, who owned 50,000 books, had this to say about home libraries:
"It is foolish to think that you have to read all the books you buy, as it is foolish to criticize those who buy more books than they will ever be able to read. It would be like saying that you should use all the cutlery or glasses or screwdrivers or drill bits you bought before buying new ones.
"There are things in life that we need to always have plenty of supplies, even if we will only use a small portion.
"If, for example, we consider books as medicine, we understand that it is good to have many at home rather than a few: when you want to feel better, then you go to the 'medicine closet' and choose a book. Not a random one, but the right book for that moment. That's why you should always have a nutrition choice!
"Those who buy only one book, read only that one and then get rid of it. They simply apply the consumer mentality to books, that is, they consider them a consumer product, a good. Those who love books know that a book is anything but a commodity."
“Think not of the books you’ve bought as a ‘to be read’ pile. Instead, think of your bookcase as a wine cellar. You collect books to be read at the right time, the right place, and the right mood.”
—Luc van Donkersgoed
Life goals
Happy April 25th Everyone. Remember your light jacket.
the #1 thing I want IRL from video games is that RPG thing where you click on a bed and it's like "how many hours do you want to sleep for?" and there's a little slider and you pick how many hours and then you instantly go to sleep and stay asleep until the time is up and all your healthpoints come back
maybe something quick? like a 'you awake?’ w/ alistair? our local lovable beef cake?
; THE FINER POINTS OF FRIENDSHIP —
summary: you’ll admit, you’re not a big fan of the dark. alistair thinks it’s cute. you just have to pee.
pairing: alistair theirin / warden!reader
word count: 1k
a/n: me, watching alistair’s romance again on youtube: ah this is the good shit huh whew!!! anyways please enjoy!!!
“Alistair?”
It’s a hiss of a whisper that jolts the tawny-haired Grey Warden out of his sleep. Alistair can’t help but reflexively uncurl himself from the scratchy woolen throw that he’d been unceremoniously having a cuddle with; he can’t help the way his eyes flick about in sleep-laden panic. Alistair is quick to throw himself straight up at the waist, head snapping towards the direction of the sound, all with his eyes half-open.
The cowlick in his hair seems just about as startled as him.
The light is dying from the fire in the center of camp and he can see the dimming light bounce and bobble through the crack in his tent’s linen door. Alistair goes still, wondering if what he heard was just a product of those increasingly more pesky lil’ night-terrors or —
Again, the call of his name.
“Alistair!”
This time, the whisper is followed by a shadow (a stumbling one, at that, who looks more like a half-drunk, new-born baby deer from this angle) that yanks the flap to his tent’s entrance open.
Oh.
It’s you.
I absolutely adore this. The playful, teasing banter, pressing each other’s buttons.
You are a human in world were all of the cryptic creatures you’ve ever known are real, every year there is a reunion where all of the local cryptics reunite and have a chance to talk with the humans.
This year for some reason you received an invitation to be the host of the ceremony, however, this is a position that only cryptids can have. Your neighbors all have the same invitations, that’s were you notice, you are the only human in a neighborhood of shape-shifters.
The envelope is addressed to me, from the Society of Cryptids in the Earthly Plane.
My first thought, naturally, is that it’s a fundraising letter.
I get them, about once a season- sometimes more often, sometimes less. You know how it is, you give once and you’re on the mailing list forever, right? Anyway, SoCEP, among other things, helps cryptids deal with territorial encroachment and adjust to, like, living indoors and so on.
I threw the letter on the table to be Dealt With Later, as is standard operating procedure for non-urgent mail. (Come to think, when was the last time I got something in the mail that was literally actually urgent? Most of my bills are email or text-messages…)
About a week later, I got an odd phone call. It went to voice mail, so I just got the voice mail. “Miss Harris, I’m calling about your RSVP? We haven’t heard back from you, and we’d really urgently like to hear from you. If you can’t make it, of course, we understand, but we’ll need to line up a replacement.” It was from SoCEP, and so I finally opened the damn letter.
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
Fuck man
This has stuck with me ever since my mom shared it with me when I was little
Reblog if you don't use Generative AI to write fanfics/original fics or to create fanart/original art.
Reblog if you’d rather give yourself papercuts between each of your fingers and then rub hand sanitizer all over your hands than use generative AI to write or draw anything ever
US Elevation.
by @cstats1
man the Appalachian mountains really aren’t shit huh
The Rockies are new, young and virile and fresh from the Laramide orogeny, tall and lanky teenagers on the geological scale. the Appalachian mountains are old, formed hundreds of millions of years ago before dinosaurs walked the Earth. They are ancients, elders, witnesses to half a billion years of life coming and going. To be tall is not a virtue. To be small is not a sin. The Appalachians are eroding under the weight of time, slowly shrinking and returning to the Earth from which they sprang. Appreciate them while they are still here.
I do want to say real quick again about the age of the Appalachians…
They said “before dinosaurs,” but we have a cave here that began forming between 450 million to 550 million years ago.
There are no bones in that cave. No fossils. No nothing.
That’s because this cave began forming before bones existed on land, and had only just started to exist in the ocean. Shellfish hadn’t evolved yet. Limestone, which forms many caves, was just starting to become a more prevalent rock.
The mountains aren’t older than dinosaurs. They are older than bones.
see that little lump up at the top of minnesota? the sawtooth mountains? so small most places would just call them hills?
those are over a billion years old.
that’s why they’re so small. they’re the last ancient remnants of a lava flow 5 miles thick. the lava didn’t kill any dinosaurs. or any fish. or any animals at all. because there were no animals. you know what there was?
algae.
those mountains were 5 miles tall when the most advanced life on earth was algae.
so i’m just gonna go ahead and keep calling them mountains, even though all you need to climb them is hiking shoes and a nice afternoon. because a place where you can crouch down and touch basalt that was lava before leaves were invented deserves some respect.
The earth is unfathomably ancient, and you garner no love from her when you insult her eldest children.
not only that, the Appalachians predate the Atlantic Ocean and were fragmented. they stretch across three continents, as Atlas in Africa and Caledonians in Europe as you can see here:
the Appalachians are way way old. the fossils that ARE found in these ranges are ancient marine beings, whose fossil remains predate the anatomical structures of beings migrating to land for the first time. THAT’S how old the Appalachians are.
show the elders some respect, they have witnessed eons and are returning to the land from which they grew, it’s the kind of the passage of time on a scale that our human lives could not even begin to comprehend.
Give me ALL the geology discourse
we respect Gaia and Her children on this blog, regardless of religious beliefs 👏👏👏
Love how this switches between science and poetry.
“Vicious” Leopard seal tries to keep national geographic photographer alive by feeding him penguins.
@maculategiraffe tags
amen
It’s called a KILT…
Reblog if you have contributed to the 17 million fanworks posted on Archive of Our Own ♡