#Herald Sun

[jesstasticvoyage]

A little video blurb about Sam.

It feels like this was created awhile back and they are reposting it as it ends with mention of his separation from Laura.

source - Herald Sun

[newspapers-front-pages]

Major Australian Newspapers List, Newspaper Front Pages, Newspapers & News portals... Largest Australian newspapers by circulation.

[coline7373]

"For Life and Light."

Pffffiuuuuu... I didn't thought I would finish it in time but I did! *fist pump*

Just in time to thank the @codywanfirstkissbingo 's mods for such lovely prompts and to wish everyone a very merry Christmas and/or Winter's Holidays!!!!!!!!!

Big love sent to everyone!!!

💖❄🎄💖🌞💖🎄❄💖

[pplaguedecay]

souls-ring fanart sketches

[sunshineandlyrics]

🚨🎾

Yes!!! Full article, 27 January 2024 x

I don't subscribe to the Herald Sun so I can't share it.

x

✨ Manifesting Louis content at the Australian Open in Melbourne Park on Saturday 27 January 2024 because Louis could attend both ✨ ....

The DMAs, Ruel and the Jungle Giants play in the AO Finals Festival in John Cain Arena from 2.00-7.00pm x

🎾 The Women's singles final in Rod Laver Arena which starts at 7.30pm x

[austinslounge]

Link

"The camera doesn’t just love the fella. It has designs in mind that are simply too impolite to be mentioned here."

Where's the lie?? Seriously! 😅

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

Lillie's Theme from Pokémon Sun/Moon

vs.

Herald of Darkness from Alan Wake 2

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Lillie's Theme:

Lillie is an incredible companion in the Alola region. You get to see her character go through tremendous growth through the course of the story, and her slightly formal, slightly mysterious, yet cheerful theme song evolves with her (though I nominated the first version). She's a friend I remember very fondly.

[grizguts]

A gift for my VtM Coterie, of our characters we play in our 'Fall of London' Chronical that we'll be ending soon and picking up our sequel second game with new characters, which follows the aftermath of what these goobers - sorry "Heralds of the Sun" got up to.

From left to right;

Mila, of clan Ravnos ( @diableriedoll on Insta, Tumblr & Twitter )

Mr. Bertram Davenport, of clan Ventrue ( Nathan - Mr.EnthralledYet )

Gwen, of clan Gangrel ( myself )

Dizzy, of clan Malkavian ( @EnthralledYet on Insta, Twitter, ArtStation & her website! )

Not gonna lie, I think I'm going to really miss my Gwen, my traumatised lil' feral fighter lol. If you'd like to know more about her, you can read the backstory I gave her here;

Gwen's Backstory

[hywl]

ragnarök

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

For the Eönwë Week prompts:

💋 A knight's kiss with Eönwë/Gothmog, Eönwë/Manwë or Eönwë/Arien (your choice :))

Alternatively, if this one's taken: 🎀 Seeking a favor with the same ships

Thank you!🤗

How about both prompts, and for all three ships?

Day 7 for @eonweweek

Prompt: Freeform.

Pairings: Eönwë/Gothmog | Eönwë/Manwë | Eönwë/Arien

A/n 1: Since today is freeform, I have opted to use a little Medieval AU emoji game.

A/n 2: For those who want to know more about my Medieval AU read here.

Themes: Soft | NSFT

Warnings: Kissing | Mild violence (blink and you might miss it)

Minors DNI

💋A knight's kiss with Eönwë/Gothmog, Eönwë/Manwë or Eönwë/Arien

Eönwë/Gothmog : The great feast held in honor of Melkor’s anointing as Crown Prince ends.

Eönwë and Gothmog go off to the gardens to sit on the grass and watch the stars while many others walk or stumble to their own bedchambers. 

Most consider them to be a most unusual pairing. Eönwë is a true-born lord from a proud and ancient noble family. Gothmog, on the other hand, is lowborn, with no father to claim him for their own. In addition, Eönwë is the Lord Commander of the King’s army and a knight without peer, and Gothmog is a mere foot soldier who prefers brute strength to finesse. 

And these things do not matter to Eönwë, for he does not care for birth or wealth or position. Gothmog loves him, and that is enough for him. And when they kiss, it is beneath the stars, with the wind sweeping through their hair. Eönwë does what comes naturally to him: he willingly yields when they kiss, allowing Gothmog to take a firmer hand as always. It is another thing many consider most peculiar: a great knight willingly submitting to one of inferior birth, and yet, it is what Eönwë desires and what he receives. 

They kiss, and they kiss. Eönwë savors the wine and the spices he finds clinging to his companion’s lips and the sweetness of the marchpane roses they all had. Then he pulls away, desiring more than just a kiss.  “Let us return to our chambers,” he says, his smile a mirror image of Gothmog’s own. “This night is far from over, my love.” 

Eönwë/Manwë : The prince never thought he would receive the affections of such an illustrious warrior. 

And yet, he finds himself the recipient of much of the Lord Commander's affections. They dance during the feast to celebrate the end of a successful royal hunt, and they talk and they laugh. The others are also dancing, and there is much music, and wine, and laughter. Eönwë pays no heed to any of it. He is too drunk on the magic of the night to care about what the others are doing. 

And, he knew, of course, that there could be more to this night. So much more. 

“Come with me, my prince,” he says, leading Manwë away from the others. “There should be more to this night than feasting and dancing.” 

They walk, and they walk, and then they come upon a little grove of trees bathed in starlight. They walk on, not stopping until they reach the very center of the grove. It is a beautiful sight: the cloudless sky, the stately trees, the dappled light, and the bashful prince who smiles expectantly. Eönwë seizes the moment and leans in, his mood high.

It was all he thought it would be and so much more. He gathers the prince in his arms as they kiss, relishing the warmth that flows into his mouth. He kisses the prince until they are both feverish and breathless, and then he kisses him until he feels, more than hears, the soft moan.

“Your tent or mine, my prince?” He asks. 

Eönwë/Arien : He is at his investiture at Starfall, where he is anointed as an Honorary Knight of the Grove.  

It is a great honor, one the Lady of Greengrove does not bestow lightly. And the one presiding over the ceremony in the place of that great lady is none other than his own beloved herself.

Eönwë kneels on a wide velvet cushion, trembling despite the warmth from nearby lit hearths. He remembers the cause for such an honor. Nevertheless, he tries his best not to dwell on it. Arien is safe and well, and that is enough for him.

The tip of a splendid sword forged especially for the occasion briefly comes to rest on his right shoulder and then his left. Then it is over, for the priest has already performed the anointing.

“Arise, Lord Eönwë, Knight of the Grove!” Arien cries, and gives the sword for another to take. It would be formally presented to Eönwë later, during the investiture feast. “And tell me, what boon does my savior desire of me?”

“A kiss from the one I love,” Eönwë says bashfully, then he rises. “That is all I ask.”

Arien smiles and says, “A gift I shall give freely, and with a glad heart.”

Eönwë smiles also. He frames her face with his hands and kisses her sweetly, sending a welcome shiver down her spine. 

🎀Seeking a favor with the same ships

Eönwë/Gothmog: It is his first joust of the tourney. Eönwë digs his heels into his steed and urges it toward the gallery.

Many had gathered to watch. The low-born keep to one side, shouting and cheering as the one the minstrels call “Swordsman of the Dawn” rides past them. The high-born kept to the other side, shouting and cheering for him with equal vigor.

Eönwë tilts his head at them and smiles, but his eyes do not see those shouting his name and cheering him on. His gaze seeks but one person and one person only.

“My lord,” Eönwë says. He reins his horse to a stop before the lower seats, where the foot soldiers sit. “Victory throughout the tourney would be assured if I am given the honor of your favor.”

Gothmog rises, flushing from cheek to throat. “I have no ribbon to give you, my lord,” he says, “or a priceless trinket. All I can offer you is this.”

He removes the copper pin he wears upon his cloak and offers it to the Lord Commander. Eönwë leans down and accepts it with gratitude.

“I shall keep it safe, my love,” he murmurs, bringing Gothmog’s hand to his lips.

Eönwë/Manwë : The sun was shining, and the sky was uncommonly clear. It was most suited for a joust and the one that would be spoken of for many a turn of the moon.

Lord Tulkas charges atop his black steed. Eönwë charges atop his grey and white. The throng roars, and upon the royal balcony, gold coins and priceless jewels are discreetly slipped into velvet hats and silk purses. Some believe Eönwë would emerge the victor. Others believe Tulkas would emerge victorious, for he was the older and the stronger of the two.

The warriors' horses tear up the rain-softened earth as they race to the center, and then their lances collide, cracking and splintering as they smash against heavy-plated armor.

Tulkas is unhorsed. He falls onto his back with a loud clangor, and the crowd gasps and cheers. But he is unharmed and is soon helped to his feet by a squire. Eönwë, satisfied that all is well with him, rides up to the balcony.

“My prince!” He cries. “If you would do me the honor of allowing me to wear your favor upon my person!”

Manwë appears and smiles. “Here it is, my lord,” he says, throwing down a square of richly embroidered silk to the warrior. “May you have much fortune for the remainder of the tourney.”

Eönwë catches it, winks playfully at the prince, and then rides back to the far end of the field.

Eönwë/Arien : It is the first time he sees her. 

She is seated on the balcony, listening to the ladies she serves. Her eyes gleam like finely polished amber in the sun, and her hair reminds him of molten gold. Eönwë urges his steed forward, as he wishes to know more of her. 

“Fair and gracious lady,” he says. “You have captivated me with your beauty. Pray what is your name?”

“You are a bold one, my lord,” the lady says, rising from her seat. “But you shall have my name if it please you. I am the Lady Arien.”

“Maiden of the sun,” Eönwë replies, beaming. “Tis a most fitting name, I think, for you indeed look as radiant as the sun. Tell me, my lady. Would you think me impertinent if I asked for your favor?” 

Arien smiles. “Not in the least, my lord, for I have heard much of you, and I know you are a man of honor. Here. You may have this.”

She loosens a ribbon from the end of her long braid and throws it down to him. Eönwë catches it with ease and brings it to his lips.  “I shall treasure this token always,” he says.

tags: @asianbutnotjapanese

[fazcinatingblog]

But why is there a picture of Ginni DID HIM AND TRENT BREAK UP LOVE ISN'T REAL THERE'S NO HOPE FOR ANYONE IT'S OVER NOTHING IS OKAY WE'RE ALL DOOMED

[tozettastone]

So in the 2000s and 2010s, mainstream news media in Australia began to use the phrase "Sexual Marxism," to describe the spooky scary practice of self determination as regards sex, gender and sexuality.

And very organically, I began to use the phrase "the means of reproduction," in response when I saw it. Like: "Oh, are the gender comrades seizing the means of reproduction? Again?? Nice."

It's been years since I last saw someone complain about whatever the fuck Sexual Marxism is meant to be (idk if they still use it — I don't get the sense it really caught on) but, sometimes, even now, I catch myself reading some stupid scaremongering nonsense in news media and murmuring, "oh, they are seizing the means of reproduction??" aloud to myself.

It just entered my vocabulary so very organically and never left.

[talentforlying]

constantine receiving even the Slightest bit of attention at any given time:

[echosian]

hi innocence jr

top ten co-ops @creaturevoiddweller

[htyfnetwork]

DELEGATE OF THE DAY - Norman Curry

from The Sun News-Pictorial, January 7, 1948

[trenchcrows]

Grateful every day that mother is into the more leftist articles and podcasts and ways of thinking cause. What if I made fun of those maga Australians and she got mad at me. That is a fucked up and evil alternate dimension.