#The Return of the Native

[rwpohl]

the return of the native, jack gold 1994

*

hallmark hall of fame: the summer of ben tyler, 1996

[the-wine-dark-sea]

When the instinctive question about a person is, What is he doing? it is felt that he will not be found to be, like most of us, doing nothing in particular. There is an indefinite sense that he must be invading some region of singularity, good or bad. [...] So the subject recurred: if he were making a fortune and a name, so much the better for him; if he were making a tragical figure in the world, so much the better for a narrative.

- Thomas Hardy, "The Return of the Native"

[wholesomeobsessive]

The distant rims of the world and of the firmament seemed to be a division in time no less than a division in matter.

The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy

[quotation--marks]

The spring came and calmed her; the summer came and soothed her; the autumn arrived, and she began to be comforted, for her little girl was strong and happy, growing in size and knowledge every day.

Thomas Hardy, The Return of the Native

[thatidiots-art]

EVEN MY AUDIBLE WRAPPED?!?@??@,£;£

HELLO??????

LFGGGG!!!!!! rewatching hp multiple times was so worthit

[eternalstrigoii]

Snippet because I'm feral

The dark was still, cloying, and it smelled like you.

Under the blanket, Remmick shifted. It didn’t register, at first, that he had been asleep. He couldn’t remember needing to. Wanting to. Whether the periodic gaps in his memory were from the condensation of time or something more natural, something as inescapable as the deep – sudden – breath that pushed sweet air back into his lungs. His hips moved, shifting for the first time in how many hours; they found the satin warmth of your thigh still draped over his. His arm over your back. Moving, even softly, awakened some long buried instinct to pull you closer, press the heat of your body into his.

Your head was on his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Like you’d forgotten about the blankets you’d strung up over the windows, the only way to keep him as he was – bare, let alone in your bed. Your breath was a gentle pulse along where his once beat.

He was glad he hadn’t disturbed you.

You slept hard enough to drool on him a little, and the ghost of a smile crossed his face. He was tryin’ not to dwell on those soft feelings – was no point – even though his fingers skimmed along the pathway of your spine. It was hot and bright out there, he knew. Whatever sleep he had hadn’t washed the day out. It felt oppressive, like a fire blazing on the roof.

You shifted, then. Motivated by his touch, maybe, or simply the urge to draw the warmth of your body more closely to his. Your forehead pressed into the place below his jaw, lips and nose brushing from the crook of his shoulder to the hollow of his throat. Sent sensations like stars breaking through a clouded night right through him.

“G’mornin,” he mumbled, something selfish in the way his lips brushed your hair. Hadn’t even realized he didn’t settle his touch, though his fingers had stalled just below your shoulders.

The little pickup in your heart gave your awakening away. If he thought his desires were selfish, he should’ve felt how his voice traced your nerves. You noticed it when he let his guard down whether or not he did; you hadn’t cared for the Carolina drawl much. Listening to the way he must’ve sounded to himself felt exceedingly more intimate.

“Mornin’.” You flexed your toes to warm them up and brushed the half-cool skin of his calf in the process. If he noticed, he didn’t seem to mind. “Hungry?”

He caught himself wondering if it was a habit of yours to ask before your hand moving up his chest disrupted his ability to think. Your mouth was soft and seeking, pressing to his neck once, twice, a tender third time before your hand settled on his shoulder for leverage to partially rise. His eyes traced your skin all over again as you bared it to him, as if he hadn’t done a fine job of committing you to memory into this morning.

His eyes were a dark, pretty red. Hadn’t meant to let you see that.

You pushed your hair back, letting it cascade over his hand. The outline of where he’d bitten you last night was already faded, little more than an old scar.

His hand came up. Moved up your shoulder to trace it with reverent, probing fingers. The outline of his teeth were already gone, only pale moons lingered where his fangs had punctured. It was like he’d marked you, though – reasonably – he knew those marks would fade. Maybe in a day or two. Nobody but he and you would ever know how deep he’d been inside you – literally, tangibly, his teeth in your skin and his body fit with yours like you both belonged there. The way blood felt running down his back when your claws pressed in; the way your cunt clung to him when he made you cum.

How long had it been since he joined with someone like that? Pushed you to the release you needed and joined you without waiting? Not since…

You got closer. Cupped his jaw, your thumb brushing along his lower lip.

You were inviting him.

The muscles of his lower stomach tensed.

When was the last time he’d hesitated? He searched the soft set of your mouth for disapproval. The warmth of your not-quite-human eyes. Dog brown, now, soft and sweet. He had the aching, selfish urge to crawl up inside you – pull you forward, sit you down on his cock, drag your hips close until you could only feel flesh on flesh and how perfectly he fit, like he was made for you, like he’d done something to deserve this – to be in you, on you, with you. Still ask even though you welcomed him. Still promise when he meant to beg.

This was a hunger deeper than it should’ve been.

[invinciblerodent]

if you wouldn't drown each other in a spoonful of water for exactly one copper piece, are you even really (half-)siblings

[carebooks]

What is wrong with Taylor Sheridan that he can’t write good endings or finales following long ass climaxes in tv???

1923 SPOILERS AHEAD!

seriously? THAT’S your choice? to kill off Alex just as soon as they reunited? “oh it’s realistic, frostbite will kill you, gangreen will kill you” I DONT CARE IT’S A TV SHOW, HOW HARD IS IT TO WRITE “you’re lucky you made a fire quick, you saved your legs” if you want some gore, amputate fingers if you have to, but for FUCKS SAKE— YOU KILL HER OFF?! what a surprise.

original post above made by @lilymarch

[seirei-bh]

Jason Mendal headcanons

I wrote these headcanons for fun, however, keep in mind that there is only a few episodes of MCL NG out by now, so I may be wrong about some ideas due to later revelations. (I've also added some NSFW headcanons under the cut!)

-He loves luxury restaurants, especially Italian food, and everything expensive and exotic that is the specialty of five-star chefs.

-He has a limousine and a driver, but he only uses them on special occasions, since he prefers to drive his own car.

-If he were an animal he'd identify with a panther, a wolf or a shark

-He likes to listen to jazz.

-He made an anonymous Twitter account that he uses to insult Devemenentiel members (later Thomas found it and hacked it to permanently ban it, lol)

-He usually wears cologne, his favorites are “Sauvage” by Dior, and “Eros” by Versace (obviously very expensive and brand name)

-He doesn't feel close to his family. Most of them are unbearable to him, with a few exceptions.

-He tends to think that stable romantic relationships are a waste of time. Most of his romantic relationships in the past didn't last very long, almost all of his former lovers complained that "he was married with his job" or that "he was a self-centered asshole". He never had enough time for them and he got bored of them because they were not intelligent or interesting enough to him (something that changes with newsucrette/Ysaline)

-He likes women with self-confidence, who know what they want and are capable of challenging him.

-His poliosis was a consecuence of his Waardenburg syndrome. That syndrome also causes on him to suffers from partial deafness and has vision problems. However, he hides all this by using a very discreet hearing aid and contact lenses. Almost no one knows this except a few people very close to him, Jason hides these problems from the people at his company and any competitors to avoid look weak.

-He's afraid of one day becoming completely deaf, so he learned to read lips and sign language.

-He doesn't want to have children, partly because he doesn't have time to raise them, but mostly because he fears they could inherit the physical problems he has, like a partial or complete deafness.

-Since he was little he was always very good at maths.

-Jason pretends he was always popular, but he was quite nerdy at school, something that he decided to change later in high school and college, he went from being the nerd boy who other made fun of to being the popular boy who insulted and bullied the others.

-During his childhood and teenage years he used to dye his hair so that other children would not mess with him, but as an adult he learned to leave his natural white streaks with self-confidence and to see them as an attractive and unique feature.

-He likes the beach, the pool and going on a yacht. He hates mountains and nature.

-He likes to go to the theater and museums. He knows a lot about the life and work of artists, but he doesn't know as much about art itself, although he pretends he does.

-He has the philosophy of “the end justifies the means” and also that money does give happiness, or at least it can help buy it.

-As a child he learned to play the piano, but as an adult he has thrown away most of his former hobbies from his little free time, because he no longer has time for any of that.

-He got that tattoo on his arm because he lost a big bet once, but since Jason never talks about his defeats, when someone asks him, he says that he got that tattoo just because he wanted to and without any reason or meaning beyond the aesthetic.

-Devon was one of the few true pals Jason really respected and appreciated in the past, before “something” happened between them and they became enemies. Each of them has a different version about what really happened in mind, so that hostility due to differences in povs became increasingly stronger as the years went by. (Probably in this case it is Jason who is not right, but he is too proud to admit that he was wrong.)

-He felt attracted to newsucrette/Ysaline from the first moment he saw her. At first it was just desire and he wanted to manipulate her, but over time that feeling grew stronger and turned into love. Something that he also tried to ignore and deceive himself, denying it until he realized about the truth. He knew that maybe she would hate him, that maybe he would hurt her, that everything could end very badly, but still he couldn't resist to try it.

NSFW headcanons

-He loves bondage, specially tying your hands with his tie.

-He enjoys giving you orders in bed and see you obeying them, but also he enjoys secretly even more when you're a "bad girl" and refuse to do what he orders.

-Praise kink (both give and receive)

-He absolutely adores when you claw your nails on his back, so he has more excuses to call you “kitten.”

-Also when you grab him by his tie to drag him to the bedroom and passionately tear off his clothes.

-His favorite place is in his house, although it can be in bed, against the wall or on a table.

-Too excited by the idea of f*king you in Goldreamz's office, on his desk table sometime.

-He almost always prefers to be the dominant one, but also loves when you fight for dominance and you get to be the queen in his bed who is able to doms him.

-He loves to tempt you beforehand, whispering sexy and dirty things in your ear, kissing you on the neck and caressing you softly and subtly, until you can't take yourself anymore.

-Hard. Savage. Passionate. Sometimes very fast for all the sexual tension you two can't handle, sometimes unbearably slow on purpose because he wants to hear you beg for more and praise him how good he is and how much you want him.

-You two always end on a bed after an argument. He's turned on by how beautiful you look when you're angry and how you fight back fierly. Sometimes he makes you angry on purpose because how much he enjoys the moment and what comes later.

-He loves when you tell him that you hate him. That turns him on too even more.

-Skilled with his fingers and proud of it *wink*

-Proud of his own body. Yeah, his size too.

-He loves to kiss your neck, caress your legs and grab your thighs and butt.

-He loves looking at you. His gaze is especially intense and challenging when you're riding him, and he likes to hear you gasp as he watches your beautiful face and body.

-Sometimes is a competition between the two to see who shows better skills in bed and how much you both can last (how many hours and poses). He'll give you his best sexy smirk and won't stop f*king you until you beg him, but you would never beg your enemy... right?

Extra! A few nsfw sweet headcanons too:

-If he notices that you feel too uncomfortable and nervous, he makes humorous comments to break the ice and make you laugh.

-Although he likes BDSM, he will always ask you if you feel comfortable or not with it and will stop if you ask him to do so.

-He's not very used to aftercare, but he knows that you need them, so he tries to give it to you. Plus, he likes it when you rest your head on his torso, close to his heart, and he thinks you look gorgeous while you sleep.

[telekitnetic-art]

(Commission) Wolverine Formline

Here's a recently finished commission I did for DTW gulo over on TG.. I'm still figuring out a good style balance for combining formline art and anthro/furry art, so this was a nice challenge!!

[the-wine-dark-sea]

To be conscious that the end of the dream is approaching, and yet has not absolutely come, is one of the most wearisome as well as the most curious situations along the whole course between the beginning of a passion and its end.

- Thomas Hardy, "The Return of the Native"

[randomwriteronline]

Still thinking abt @crystaltoa 's narrative and destiny in bionicle essay and at some point it struck me that oh shit is this why Lesovikk never achieves anything?

Because his destiny was to die, basically, he's technically been retired from the narrative before even entering it. He should by all accounts be the equivalent of a name in the flavor text of a Skyrim history book, just there to give additional context to the culture or language or history of the Matoran Universe. He could leave! He could sit back and watch it all unfold from the safety of his "narratively dead" status. But he doesn't know that, and so he wallows in grief and misery for 90 thousand years as he runs in circles desperately trying to insert himself back into a story that just doesn't respond to his presence. He can't save his team because Destiny says so, he can't return to his Matoran because he technically shouldn't exist anymore, he can't kill Karzhani because he's an actual character with a role to play and he can't just be decommissioned by flavor text.

Even in The Powers That Be, where the influence of the narrative is waning and retired characters are being brought back into the story through the Red Star, his only victory is undone (Idris and Sarda notably do not appear even in mentions in the serial despite them having formed/regained a bond with him previously, implying they have since returned to the Mahri/Voya communities while Lesovikk hasn't for whatever reason) and he remains unable to pursue his goals, at best becoming Velika's scapegoat.

He's like a vengeful yet ineffectual ghost stuck in a house that has moved on without him, repeating old motions in the hopes that he will somehow solve his unfinished business soon.

The Myths and Legacy version's conclusion for him (while I still don't enjoy it personally) does fit this reading. He shows up so suddenly on the Red Star but is it strange? Does it even matter? That's where he should have been to begin with, of course the story would twist and bend itself to accomodate that. While Velika is horrendously cruel about it, revealing Lesovikk's purpose in the narrative exorcises that guilt he's been dragging around for nearly a thousand centuries and gives him solace: he fully detaches himself from Kopaka and Pohatu to join the living dead he has so much more in common with, and finally he realizes that little plot point that he'd been stuck on for so long and is finally at peace. By tearing himself to shreds and blowing up a spaceship but at peace nonetheless.

[wholesomeobsessive]

Indeed, it is a question if the exclusive reign of this orthodox beauty is not approaching its last quarter. The new Vale of Tempe may be a gaunt waste in Thule; human souls may find themselves in closer and closer harmony with external things wearing a sombreness distasteful to our race when it was young. The time seems near, if it has not actually arrived, when the chastened sublimity of a moor, a sea, or a mountain will be all of nature that is absolutely in keeping with the moods of the more thinking among mankind. And ultimately, to the commonest tourist, spots like Iceland may become what the vineyards and myrtle gardens of South Europe are to him now; and Heidelberg and Baden be passed unheeded as he hastens from the Alps to the sand dunes of Scheveningen.

The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy

[alinahdee]

A new documentary film, Return of the Spirit Horses, by Derek Sands and produced by Taye Alvis, airs on CBC Television on June 28 and August 9, 8pm ET.

Sands is from the Walpole Island Unceded Territory where my family is from. I'm so excited to see a filmmaker from Walpole <3 I can't wait to see this.

[reksink]

Sona Given Form💚

[evignonita]

me after the power was out for more than 10 hours