
What is the Minecraft update for 2025? Ghast lore, capes and a new live event
With the theatrical release of "A Minecraft Movie" right around the corner on April 4, it seems the team over at Mojang Studios are giving players a new update to the game just in time for the film's release.
On Sunday, March 23, the 2025 Minecraft Live took place on the Minecraft YouTube channel and game developer Mojang announced never-before-seen game drops, showed exclusive movie content and even had some celebrity appearances including Emma Myers ("Wednesday") from the upcoming live action Minecraft movie.
If you didn't catch Sunday's livestream, here's everything you missed about what's coming to Minecraft in 2025.
Minecraft isn't just getting one game drop in 2025. It's getting multiple game drops, according to the recap of the live on minecraft.net.
More features will be released more frequently in the form of game drops throughout the year and because of that there will be another Minecraft Live show later this year to give even more updates.
The first game drop of the year is called "Spring to Life" and it releases to all platforms on Tuesday, March 25. This drop will include warm and cold variants for some of the classic mobs, new ambient features like the glittering firefly bush, falling leaves and whispers of sand in hopes of players making their Overworld travels and builds more immersive.
A lot was shared in the Minecraft Live event. Here's a recap of all the updates coming to Minecraft in 2025:
New mobs: new warm and cold pig variants, along with a new cow variation.
Firefly bush: a new plant block that emits glowing firefly particles.
Falling leaf particles: all tree types will have falling leaves.
Leaf litter: a new decorative block can be found in forests, dark forests and wooded badlands that can also be used as fuel.
Wildflowers: a new flower type that grows in the birch forests, old growth birch forests and meadows that can be used as dye or decor.
Ambient sounds: new ambient sounds like howling wind and desert sounds.
Loadstone crafting: the crafting recipe for loadstone has changed and now players can find them in ruined portal chests.
More game drops throughout the year and more updates coming later with a second Minecraft Live event.
Emma Myers, one of the stars of the upcoming "A Minecraft Movie," came to the live to share a new in-game Live Event where players will be able to play mini-games inspired by the movie, including saving Midport village from a piglin attack.
The Live Event will take place from Tuesday, March 25, until Monday, April 7, 2025, on all Bedrock Edition platforms. Players will need to complete all the challenges to be awarded an exclusive cape that will unlock in both editions of the game.
The second game drop from Minecraft this year will include the dried ghast, a new block that can be found in the Nether.
These new ghast blocks can be taken to the Overworld to be rehydrated into a ghastling, which can grow to be happy ghasts, a friendlier version of the ghasts of the Nether. Players can put a harness on their happy ghast, mount it and fly around your world.
There's no 1.22 Minecraft update this time around. Instead, players will need to look out for the various game drops happening throughout the year, which will include updates to the game.
Meredith G. White covers entertainment, art and culture for The Arizona Republic and azcentral.com. She writes the latest news about video games, television and best things to do in metro Phoenix.
Ready Player 1?: Biggest video games in March 2025 and where Arizonans can play them
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: When is the Minecraft update coming out? Here's what's new
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Theoretically speaking, I knew just about everything there was to know about the orgasm…apart from how to have one myself. Very few people, beyond a handful of friends and former partners, knew about my struggle with anorgasmia (where people struggle to climax even with the application of sexual stimulation). I was scared of speaking the words "I can't come" into reality, or of feeling like even more of a failure if they checked in on my progress in the future and I had to tell them that no, I still couldn't. Theoretically speaking, I knew just about everything there was to know about the orgasm…apart from how to have one myself. As Emily Nagoski writes in her bestselling book Come As You Are, so much of the female orgasm is in the mind. Nagoski theorises that female sexual pleasure has dual controls — an accelerator to turn you on and a brake to turn you off — and that balance is needed to achieve orgasm. But my brake was hyper-sensitive thanks to all that fear and panic and shame, making it near impossible for me to actually have one. (Of course, that's an easy observation to make three years on the other side.) Sex toys felt like a good starting point (god forbid I actually touch myself!), and my limited student budget meant I wanted a vibrator that gave a good bang for my buck, so to speak. I'd spend hours trawling through positive customer reviews for phrases like "can't come" or "never usually orgasm," hoping the same would happen for me if I purchased a clitoral stimulator or CBD lube. When it didn't, I felt more frustrated than ever. What I was searching for was a sense of recognition — an "oh, I'm not alone in this" feeling that my friends, while empathetic, understandably couldn't provide. (Yet whenever I now mention to friends that I didn't have an orgasm until I was 25, similar stories are divulged.) So I looked further afield, scouring message board threads and online articles for narratives from people who'd not been able to come either. The snatched moments of understanding made me feel less alone, albeit not necessarily always better. The next approach was more unconventional. Two friends bought me a subscription to OMGYes, the adult sex education website dedicated to facilitating female pleasure. Initially, I was embarrassed that it had come to this, but I gave it a go. A membership provided access to a library of practical (and extremely NSFW) tutorials on different masturbation techniques. I tried to follow along, but lacked perseverance and was quick to abandon the mission when things didn't happen immediately. At every stage, my attempts to orgasm were hindered by these deeply rooted feelings of shame and inadequacy, and a fear of feeling like even more of a failure should I try and not succeed. I knew I was missing out on an integral part of the human experience, but once the terrifying words "you're going to be on your deathbed never having had an orgasm" enter the mind, they're hard to shake. In order to halt this nihilistic spiral, I stopped trying altogether. It wasn't all bad. The sex, with both long-term and casual partners, was often even pleasurable. Sometimes I faked orgasms, sometimes I didn't bother — the former usually when I didn't want to explain myself and give them an excuse not to try. So the problem bubbled away beneath the surface, rectifying it as simply not a priority. As with much of life, the arrival of COVID-19 changed things. I remember turning 25 and looking down the barrel of a new year and a third lockdown in the UK. I'm officially in my mid-twenties, I thought. If not now, when? Those interconnected feelings of embarrassment and failure were clearly holding me back. If I was going to figure out how to orgasm, that would only be achieved by removing expectation; expectation that, I realised, was coming directly from the internet aids I'd sought out for help. I needed to strip away the technological trappings and do the one very simple thing I'd been so scared to do: touch myself, and do it consistently. I set myself a challenge. Every day, I would put my phone on the other side of the room and masturbate without sex toys. The experience felt utterly alien at first; at some point, it crossed my mind that sexual partners had touched my genitals far more than I ever had. Once I acclimatised to the sensation of taking my time and not trying to speed up the process with a buzzing pink lump of plastic, it felt good. Things started happening, although not the earth-shattering fireworks that society had led me to expect. I didn't think these faint flutters were orgasms, and briefly returned to the message boards to see if others had experienced anything similar. Nobody described my exact feelings, but I kept at it. It was a conversation with a close friend, a doctor, that made the most marked difference. I told her about my current state, where I wasn't sure whether I was experiencing an orgasm or not. "You know if you want that to count, it counts," she told me. For the first time, someone was saying that I was on the right path, and not crashing into a wall. Without being dramatic (although said friend still laughs about how I credit her with my first orgasm), those words triggered a switch in my brain. As soon as I stopped feeling like I was foolish for even attempting to fight what I'd always perceived to be a losing battle, orgasms — proper ones, I was sure — came. I didn't cry or rush to text the friends greatly invested in my journey. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled, but it felt like a wholly personal achievement, and one I wanted to sit in for a while. SEE ALSO: What is a ruined orgasm? Mostly, the feeling was one of relief, the lifting of a huge weight from my chest and the dissipation of so much secret shame. I remember thinking that if I never had an orgasm again, I would be happy. Given how easy I was now finding it once that bridge was crossed, though, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to be the case. It would be a while until I was able to orgasm with other people, but even before I did, my partnered sex life improved dramatically. I didn't feel like I was lacking anymore. I remember thinking that if I never had an orgasm again, I would be happy. If there's one thing I now know, it's that you can't intellectualise, let alone buy, an orgasm. Sure, products and internet resources may help, and in those most isolating moments, it was undoubtedly useful to see my experience reflected back in others. But over time, I found the accumulation of all this knowledge only added to my feelings of failure. I had to remove it all from my mind and do the thing I was most scared to — confront my own body — to make it happen. Given all that, I'm aware of the irony of writing my own "how I finally had an orgasm" narrative. But I know a story like mine, as long as it wasn't dwelled on too long or used as a point of comparison, would have helped my younger self. It's why I keep far less personal aspects of my life out of my work, yet have always known I wanted to write about this experience someday. There are so few narratives about a total inability to orgasm out there. If you're reading this now and see something of yourself in my story, I hope it can provide some. It can happen for you — I truly believe that — whether you're 25 or 72. You'll get there.