THE LIVING SUN.

THIS IS AN ARCHIVE.   FIND ME ON @DINOPUNCHING.

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𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙸𝚁.      a plot heavy  &  mutuals only writing blog for carol danvers aka captain marvel of marvel’s earth-616 universe.     comics based  &  canon divergent portrayal   –––   not mcu compliant.     triggering topics are present,   not suitable for minors.     written by rika,    (  she  /  her,   gmt+2,   25+  )    est june 2017.

carrd   ›   sideblog   ›   pinterest   ›   meme tag.

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hey this did not turn into a resource blog just because i moved. please don’t go through my posts especially if we’re not mutuals anywhere, go to the source. thank you.

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𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝚃 𝚄𝙿 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽;   𝚅𝙴𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝚈 𝚅𝙴𝙸𝙽.   𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝙽.       carol danvers of marvel’s earth-616 universe.     flown by rika,   est june 2017.

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just a little heads up:     i’ll be archiving this blog and moving it later today.

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gunbash​   ›   sebastian moran.

IT  BURDENS  HIM  TO  HEAR  OF  HER  OWN  LITTLE  STORY  ,  running  around  the  streets  to  take  out  steam  ,  to  avoid  the  wrath  of  her  angry  father  .  encouraged  by  her  mother  to  go  out  and  escape  …  but  not  totally  protected  by  the  ingrown  anger  within  the  home  and  all  its  accompanying  brutalities  .  he  would  never  wish  trauma  like  his  own  on  anyone  ,  but  there’s  a  faint  glimmer  of  relief  ,  knowing  someone  else  understands  .  someone  else  out  there  ,  in  a  shred  of  camaraderie  ,  recognizes  what  that  fear  feels  like  .  HE  HATES  THAT  CAROL  KNOWS  ,  but  respects  her  demonstration  of  knowing  .  they  did  ,  indeed  ,  deserve  better  fathers  than  the  ones  they  got  .  he  thieves  her  hand  when  he  sees  the  tears  ,  giving  her  fingers  a  soft  squeeze  ,  but  he  refuses  to  interrupt  her  as  her  mind  processes  its  thoughts  .  SHE’S  WORKING  THROUGH  IT  ;  he  watches  her  face  change  and  soon  allows  her  to  sink  into  his  arms  .  the  two  tangle  in  a  hug  ,  protective  ,  affectionate  .  she’s  got  her  face  buried  in  his  neck  and  sebastian  sighs  ,  closing  his  eyes  .  a  momentary  ebb  of  sheltering  silence  .  ❝  i’d  like  knowing  ,  yes  .  if  you  could  give  me  a  gentle  heads  up  beforehand  ?  so  i  know  you’re  at  least  alive  and  safe  .  I’D  APPRECIATE  THAT  ,  ABOVE  ALL  .  it’s  okay  to  need  time  ,  but  to  have  that  …  that  little  sliver  of  reassurance  ?  much  appreciated  .  thank  you  for  taking  my  concerns  into  consideration  .  i’ll  do  the  same  for  you  if  i  ever  need  a  similar  break  .  ❞  her  hand  dives  to  his  lower  back  ,  and  sebastian’s  reaches  for  the  base  of  her  neck  ,  a  considerate  little  kneading  to  alleviate  pressure  .  ❝  i  would  love  to  take  over  all  cooking  duties  ,  and  yes  ,  if  those  spy  contacts  could  come  in  handy  …  might  want  to  explore  every  option  .  ❞  they’re  still  in  one  another’s  arms  ,  just  at  a  little  distance  now  ,  some  space  added  to  extend  the  lock  of  their  eyes  .  he  smiles  at  carol  ,  his  grin  equally  as  reassuring  as  all  his  words  he  said  before  .  ❝  a  safe  home  life  .  no  yelling  or  hiding  in  closets  or  jogging  around  the  neighborhood  ,  carol  .  SAFETY  .  PEACE  .  A  PROPER  HOME  .  you  ,  chewie  ,  and  i  can  make  something  great  .  plus  all  the  star  wars  memorabilia  .  maybe  i  can  clear  out  a  few  shelves  in  the  office  ,  or  turn  the  guest  bedroom  into  a  little  shrine  for  you  .  ❞  sebastian  leans  in  and  kisses  her  brow  .  ❝  tony  will  understand  .  if  he  truly  cares  about  you  like  i  know  he  does  ,  he’ll  want  your  happiness  .  THAT’S  WHAT  YOU’LL  GET  HERE  LIVING  WITH  ME  ,  I  HOPE  .  ❞

❝       no running off without letting you know beforehand,   gotcha.       ❞          a dulcet promise,   murmured into the collar of his shirt.      carol briefly nuzzles sebastian’s neck  &  tilts her chin so as to press a kiss to the sweet spot beneath his stubbled jaw,   then leans back ever-so-slightly in favor of finding his eyes.     a tight-lipped smile sets her mouth.           ❝       let me know if you need me to reach out to any of them,   y’hear ?      i’d be lying if i said i’m not happy about you wanting to get out,   but if something happens in the process…       ❞          with the thought left unfinished,   her silence is allowed to speak for itself.     he already knew of her worries.     there was no need to repeat them.

he says it then:     a proper home.     three such potent words in all their simplicity.     a dam she never even knew existed within her breaks in that moment  &  she finds herself deluged by affection.     the concept of home had always been something nebulous,   something she had thought was not meant for her in her inherent rootlessness.     home should have been the beverly of her childhood,   an idyllic slice of american suburbia   –––   copy-pasted houses  &  white picket fences stacked in neat little rows,   station wagons parked in driveways,   perfectly timed sprinkler systems bursting to life in the early afternoon,   laughing children  &  barking dogs.     yet the four walls had turned into a cell,   the cul-de-sac a prison.     no warmth to be found,   nothing but the concrete cold  &  air thickened by anxiety.     home should have been the new york city of her present,   a tiny her-shaped corner of the universe,   laboriously carved out.     should have been,   but wasn’t.     it was a tomb of wilted plants,   dust-coated cupboards  &  barely used furniture;     in the background,   a lingering absence she could not quite place.    not until now,   anchored here in the safe harbor of sebastian’s arms,   had she truly known the definition of the word home.

❝       sebastian moran,   do you have any idea how much i love you ?       ❞          it’s all she can think to say in response;     the way carol visibly softens before him being the only elaboration she has to offer.     whatever traces of sadness still linger on her features dissipate  &  in their stead,   a vivid smile blooms.     the bright lights overhead are no match for her eyes.     her hands abandon his back  &  find new placement,   one coming up to cup his cheek,   the other tangling in the mess of curls found at the nape of his neck,   nails gently scratching the scalp in a soothing motion.          ❝       not sure i have the words for it,   so i think it’s better if i show you,       ❞          she says,   voice lowered to an almost whisper.     rising to her tiptoes,   she leans in  &  lays claim to his lips at last,   instinctively seeking as much contact as possible by pressing herself up against him.     a proper kiss seems well-timed after so much dancing around it.   it’s intimate but sweet more so than carnal   –––   perfectly suited to the moment.     soon she pries away.          ❝       can’t believe you offered to make a shrine for my star wars memorabilia.     honestly just makes me even more sure about us.     of course i'll be happy here with you.       ❞

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carol focuses very heavily on her work and being an avenger,   but she also has quite a few hobbies to turn to when she does have some spare time.     these are:     walking her cat chewie in central park,   various forms of exercise like running and boxing,   creative writing,   journaling and reading,   science fiction of all kinds but especially the star wars variety,   playing poker and hosting game nights for friends and acquaintances,   flying and tinkering with the t9 spitfire she inherited from her friend helen cobb,   astronomy and stargazing,   collecting vinyls,   going to red sox games,   dancing and singing along to cheesy 80′s pop songs alone in her apartment.

[weltenwellen]

Mary Oliver, from "The Moths", Dream Work

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okay here’s the deal:     this summer i got into a bad habit of staying up writing to keep up with my drafts or to just procrastinate,   which meant i frequently went to bed at midnight despite having my alarm set for 3:40 am since i have mostly morning shifts at work.     last week when i went back to work post-vacation,   i unfortunately fell into that habit again and it’s not really Good™ in the long run.     i’ve definitely been feeling the cumulative lack of sleep since the weekend,   especially now that the days are getting shorter again,   so i’m taking steps to start going to bed at a decent hour and getting more sleep before i run myself down to the ground.

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𝚃𝚈𝙿𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝙴𝙾𝙿𝙻𝙴:   𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁.

bold:  always  applies.   italic:   sometimes  applies.

i.   rain.     melancholy at best,  introspective,  severely misunderstood,  pleasure in the subdued,   helping in your own way,  dreams in poetry,  the slowness of falling asleep,  refreshing meditation.

ii.   sun.     sunbleached clothes,  futures that are too bright,  everything at arm’s length,  balancing intensity,   blind encouragement,  comfort of sleep,  distracting sunspots in your vision,  necessity of growth.

iii.   storm.     chaos with a purpose,  emotions running high,  natural comfortable anarchy,  high volume,   leaving your mark,    brief flashes of violence,  rambling quickly,   the intensity of desire.

iv.   wind.     running towards instead of away,  instinctive motivation,   making an impact,  knows everyone who knows anyone,   playful pranks,   mood swings in a split second, collecting old trinkets,  uncontrollable focus.

v.   snow.     serene on the surface,  cold blooded heart,  love it or hate it attitude,  good memories,  heavy discussions,  sharp determination,  relentless resolve,  not as scary as it seems.

tagged by:     @gunbash the loml tagging:     @ltsaviour  /  @gr8thief,   @faentine,   @mknbrd,   @nexusbeing,   @dragaryen,   @51163,   @bauretired,   @destage​,   and anyone else !

[bambisource]

KISSING  MEME  PROMPTS:

kiss  prompts  for  starters  and/or  drabbles.  feel  free  to  make  changes  as  you  see  fit.  enjoy  !  <3

hand  kiss.

cheek  kiss.

neck  kiss.

back  kiss.

forehead  kiss.

ear  kiss.

nose  kiss.

shy  kiss.

happy  kiss.

surprise  kiss.

angry  kiss.

crying  kiss.

rough  kiss

soft  kiss.

quick  kiss.

platonic  kiss.

jealous  kiss.

first  kiss.

last  kiss.

clumsy  kiss.

uninterested  kiss.

blown  kiss.

awkward  kiss.

drunk  kiss.

bloody  kiss.

sensual  kiss.

dying  kiss.

secret  kiss.

teasing  kiss.

against  the  wall  kiss.

alleyway  kiss.

rain  kiss.

before  bed  kiss.

goodbye  kiss.

‘i’m  sorry’  kiss.

‘i  missed  you’  kiss.

‘good  morning’  kiss.

‘goodnight’  kiss.

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a tiny mains  /  exclusives call maybe ?     i haven’t done one of these in a while and i just cleaned up my list a little,   so it seems like a good a time as any.

[fuckyeahmodelgifs]

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chicago,   the first day of winter.     a light dusting of fresh snow has purified the streets if only for this wednesday night,   this liminal space between changing seasons,   until the city wakes to another morning  &  pollutes them once more.     there’s a new bite to the air:     the kind of chill which creeps into your bones  &  stubbornly lingers even after seeking refuge indoors as they have.    

goosebumps rise along the path of skin exposed where jay’s nimble fingers make haste unbuttoning her blouse,   her own fumbling at his belt buckle,   working in tandem with his.     this is a familiar choreography by now,   a frenzy of limbs  &  lips  &  teeth as they stumble over the threshold leading into his bedroom   –––   desperate in their movements,    aching to touch  &  taste as much of the other as possible before this doomed dance comes to a bitter end.     it was the first day of winter  &  she would be gone before the last.

@51163​​​:     no one’s here.   we can be as loud as we want.     (  from:   subtle smut.  )

at the delicious whisper of a warm breath,   anticipation settles in her lower abdomen.          ❝       you’re flattering yourself,   halstead.       ❞          amusement flavoured syrup drips from carol’s tongue,   a chuckle half-stifled as she reclaims his mouth  &  succeeds at last in pulling the belt out of the fabric loops holding it in place.     she blindly casts it aside,   hears it land somewhere in the shadows lining the walls of the dimly lit room,   then pries their fevered lips apart  &  challenges him with a cant of her head.          ❝       loud’s gonna take more than a medium temperature make-out session.       ❞          no respite for a response,   not before she already has her fingertips pressed to jay’s chest  &  gives a gentle shove so he falls back against the bed.     she climbs in after,   straddling his thighs so she can have easy access to the zipper of his jeans.          ❝       better step up your game if y’want loud.       ❞

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𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂.

romeo & juliet.     suburban  july.  scraped  knees.   bruised  knuckles.  blood  in  your  teeth.  bare  feet  on  hot  concrete.  restlessness.  your  high  school’s  empty  parking lot. love  poems  in  your  diary.   a  window  open  to  coax  in  the  breeze.   burning  inside.  an  ill - fitting  party  dress.  a  t - shirt  you  cut  up  yourself.   the  time  you  tried  to  give  yourself  bangs.   biking  to  your  friends  house.  bubble  gum.   gas  station  ice.   the  feeling  that  you’ve  met  before.  rebellion.  a  car  radio  playing  down  the  street.  cheap  fireworks.  a  heart  drawn  on  the  inside  of  your  wrist  with  a  sharpie.  switchblades.   red  solo  cups.  dancing  in  your  bedroom.  screaming  yourself  hoarse.   running  out  of  options.  the  forlorn  looking  basketball  hoop  at  the  end  of  a  cul - de - sac.   climbing  onto  your  roof  at  night  while  your  parents  are  asleep.   flip - flops.   a  eulogy  written  on  loose - leaf.  the  merciless  noontime  sun.

hamlet.     speaking  in  a  whisper.  holding  your  breath.  a  browning  garden.   a  half  remembered  story. furniture  covered  with  sheets.   fog  at  dawn.   mist  at  twilight.   losing  touch. the  ethereal  space  between  winter  and  spring.  the  soft  skin  at  your  temple. the  crack  in  the  hallway mirror.   things  you’d  say  if  you  knew  the  words.  uncombed  hair.  books  with  writing  in  the  margins.  books  with  cracked  spines.  books  with  lines  scratched  out.   prayers  on  all  souls’  day.   a  chipped ceramic  bathtub.  a  cold  stone  floor.  the  uncomfortable  awareness  of  your  own  heartbeat.  the  sparrow  that  got  in  your  house.  shadows.  the  creek  you  played  in  as  a  child.   a  dirty  night  gown.   an  oversized  t - shirt.   a  collection  of  your  favorite  words.   soil  beneath  your  nails.  ghost  stories.   the  strangeness  of  your  own  name  in  your  mouth.   deep  silence.   exhaustion.  a  cliff  with  a  long,  long  drop  down.

twelfth night.     wicker  deck  furniture.   new  england  summer.   large  sunglasses  and  a  blonde  bob.   a  storm  over  the  ocean.  patio  umbrellas  flapping  in  the  wind.   the  smell  of  chlorine.   muffled  laughter.   sarcasm.  starched  cuffs.  day  drinking.  bay  windows. the  idea  of  love.  love  for  the  idea  of  love.   love  for  love’s  sake.  hangovers.  wandering  over  the  sand  dunes.   a  vagabond  with  a  guitar.   fishermen  with  tattoos.   a  pretty  boy  with  a  slacked  tie.   a  lighthouse.   growing  too  close.  boat  shoes.   feeling  yourself  change.    big,  floppy  sunhats.   double - speak.   a  song  you  keep  listening  to.  turning  red  under  their  gaze.   margaritas  drank  on  an  inflatable  pool  lounger.   string  lights  on  a  balmy  night.   sleepy  june  days.  fights  you’re  unprepared  for.   hope  you  weren’t  expecting.    pranks  that  go  too  far.   bad  poetry.   pining.  becoming  less  of  a  stranger.

macbeth.     the  space  where  your  grief  used  to  be.  a  bird  that’s  lost  an  eye.   old  blood  stains.   heavy  blinds.  the  smell  of  sweat.   the  stillness  after  a  battle.  a  fake  smile.  a  curse.   the  taste  of  metal  at  the  back  of  your  tongue.   your  house,  unfamiliar  in  the  dark.   a  dusty  crib.    the  smell  of  sulfur.   an  orange  pill  bottle.   streaks  in  the  sink.   a  black  cocktail  dress.   your  hand  on  the  doorknob,  shaking.   a  chilly  breeze.   crunching  from  the  gravel  driveway  on  a  moonless  night.   clenched  hands.   a rusty  swing  set.   a  flashing  digital  clock  stuck  on  12 : 00.   a  snake  that  crosses  your  path.   an  owl  that  watches  you.   a  dog  that  runs  when  you  approach.   red smoke,  dark  clouds.   cool  steel.  tile  floors.  footsteps  in  the  hallway  late  at  night.   a  baggy  suit  that  used  to  fit  before.   visions.   insomnia  headaches.  nursery  rhymes.  being  too  far  in  to  go  back  now.

much ado about nothing.     the  high  drama  of  small  towns.   a  pickup  truck.   military  supply  duffel  bags  in  the  hall.    hugs  all  around.  tulip  bulbs.   a  wraparound  porch.   a  pitcher  of  iced  tea.  a  rubber  halloween  mask.   someone  on  your  level.  ill - timed  proclamations.  stomach  clenching  laughter.  rushing  in.   not  minding  your  business.  crepe  paper.  white  lies.  secrets  written  down  and  thrown  away.   southern  hospitality.   homemade  curtains  in  the  kitchen.   a  sink  full  of  roses.   hiding  in  the  bushes.  old  friends.  the  wedding  dress  your  grandma  wore,  and  her  mama  before  her.   a  dog - eared  rhyming  dictionary.   chamomile  with  honey.  the  intimacy  of  big  parties.   lawn  flamingos.  gossip.   a  crowded  church.  friendly  rivalries.   unfriendly  rivalries.  shit  getting  real.   love  at  five  hundredth  sight.  not  realizing  you’re  home  until  you’re  there.

king lear.     cement  block  buildings.  power  lines  that  birds  never  perch  on.   the  end  of  the  world.  useless  words.  rainless  thunder,  heat  lighting,  a  too  big  sky.   arthritic  knuckles.  broken  glass.   chalk  cliffs.    the  pulsing  red - black  behind  closed  eyes. something  you  learned  too  late.   wet  mud  that  sucks  up  your  shoes  while  you  walk.  a  cold  stare.  empty  picture  frames.  empty  prayers.  the  obscenity  of  seeing  your  parents  cry.  a  treeless  landscape.  bloody  rags.  grappling  in  the  dark  with  reaching  hands.  the  sharpness  at  the  the  tips  of  your  teeth.  the  blown  out  windows  of  a  skeletal  house.   decay.   jokes  that  aren’t  jokes.  biting  your  tongue.  prophecies.  aching  muscles,  tired  feet.  stinging  rain.  invoking  the  gods.  wondering  if  the  gods  are  listening.  worrying  that  the  gods  are  dead.   white  noise.   shivers.   numbness.  the  unequivocal  feeling  of  ending.

a midsummer night’s dream.     the  smell  of  wet  soil  and  dead  leaves.    listening  to  music  on  headphones  with  your  eyes  closed.   wildflowers.   the  distant  sparkle  of  lightning  bugs.   a  pill  someone  slipped  you.   fear  that  turns  into  excitement.  excitement  that  turns  to  frenzy.  mossy  tree  trunks.   a  pair  of  yellow  eyes  in  the  darkness.   night  swimming.  moonlight  through  the  leaves.   a  bass  beat  in  your  chest.  a  butterfly  landing  on  your  nose.  a  kiss  from  a  stranger.  a dark  hallow  in  an  old  tree.  glow  in  the  dark  paint.  drinking  on  an  empty  stomach.  a  twig  breaking  behind  you.  spinning  until  you’re  dizzy.  finding  glitter  on  your  body  and  not  remembering  where  it  came  from.  an  overgrown  path  through  the  woods.  cool  dew  on  your  skin.  a  dream  that  fades  with  waking. moths  drawn  to  the  light.   giving  yourself  over,  completely. afterglow.   the  long,  loving,  velvety  night.

tagged by:     stole it off the dash xoxo tagging:     @gunbash,   @waselegant,   @highgaerdens,   @cirsei,   @jokethur,   @desafia,   @6billion​,   @danviers​,   and anyone else who wants to !

[sezaininkadehi]

[dinopunching-a2]

she hovers in the doorway;     a backlit apparition in ruby red,   the silken material of her dress moulding itself to her curves like a second skin.     barefoot for now,   a pair of black stilettos dangling in her hand.     sebastian is so immersed in his task of grading essays that he doesn’t immediately sense her presence.     an adoring smile ghosts across her lips as she studies him from a distance,   quietly caressing the shape of him with her softened gaze   –––   until at last he pauses  &  looks up,   freezing for a second before sets the pen down atop the stack of papers,   leans against the chair’s backrest  &  takes her in.

@gunbash​​:     you look  …  stunning.     (  from:   dusty toolbox.  )

the span of her smile grows at the comment,   a starlight-sheen in her eyes.          ❝       i take it you enjoy the dress ?     it’s new.       ❞       having let the shoes fall to the floor with a thud,   carol gives sebastian a twirl for good measure,   then saunters toward him.          ❝       tony’s having a party.     not really my scene,   so i doubt i’ll be long.     don’t get me wrong,   i love the guy,   but these things are just a thinly veiled ego boost he doesn’t need,       ❞          she explains,   coming to a halt at the touch of their knees.     the length of her index finger finds the underside of his chin,   gently tilting it upward for better access as she leans in  &  siphons a slow kiss from his lips.

a step closer still,   as close as she can manage before the chair gets in the way,   his thighs now encased between her legs.     from there she slips into his lap,   draping her arms around his broad shoulders before she gifts him another kiss;     this one a firm press to the middle of his forehead.     a pleasant warmth pools in her stomach,   induced by the intimacy of the position  &  the stabilizing weight of sebastian’s hands on her hips.     something golden  &  viscous like honey to sweeten the moment.          ❝       i’d rather stay in,   but i promised to show so i guess i’ll have to.     unless of course there happens to be an emergency within the next,   say,   five minutes or so ?     something i just couldn’t get out of.       ❞

[dinopunching-a2]

in the comics you see carol ignoring calls and texts from her friends and loved ones all the time.     it’s not malicious,   though   –––   i honestly just think she hates lying to the people she cares about,   so she won’t pick up the phone if she’s off doing something reckless and dangerous on her lonesome instead of risking having to lie about where she is.     i think it’s also her way of trying to keep people from worrying about her,   but at the same time,   she doesn’t realize that people not being able to get a hold of her probably makes them worry even more.