little baby will

Roshni

There’s something to be said about early mornings. She doesn’t have many charitable things to mention about it–waking up before noon is considered a sin in her eyes–but there’s something…peaceful about the pre-dawn mornings in Los Santos.

Maybe it’s the stillness outside, birds barely begun to wake and few cars blaring their horns miles below their high rise penthouse. Or maybe it’s the pale sunlight just beginning to filter in through their blinds, casting the room in a soft, washed out hue. Or maybe it’s just the stillness around her–Penny and the cats sleeping restfully, furry limbs strewn across all corners of the bed, alarms all mercifully shut off and electronics set to their dimmest settings, her boys sound asleep, the only noises coming from them snuffles and Dan’s soft snoring. She grins.

She can’t say she expected to find herself in this position. When she had moved to Los Santos all those years ago, she’d been a naive girl with her eyes set on grandeur, with some hope of erasing her past as she took the city by storm. She scoffed at the concept of love, weaponized the idea and used it to her advantage on marks, knowing exactly what her red hair and a gorgeous backless gown did to those with weaker resolve. And yet.

She turns her head up to look at Dan, grinning even wider when she sees his mussed hair and slightly agape mouth, a small line of drool trickling out. She stifled a snort at the sight–the mark of a truly jet-lagged man. She’d missed him while he was away, a trip to talk with some weapons dealers in Liberty City that was immediately followed by a flight across the pond for some SMG matters she couldn’t recall had kept him away from them for far too long. She’d missed his warmth and steadiness, his bright smile and raspy laugh and tight hugs. His ability to make a complete mess just somehow feel infinitely better. They could’ve used a bit of that, this past week. She shakes her head, burrowing into his shoulder. She kisses his collarbone and he snorts a little in his sleep, shifting slightly before settling.

Gavin stirs a bit at the shift, eyes scrunching, brow furrowing fitfully before smoothing out again. He nuzzles into Dan’s chest and reaches out blindly for her hand. She grabs it, threads their fingers together, and kisses the knuckles. His lips twitch unconsciously and he relaxes with a sigh. It takes all her willpower not to lean across Dan and give him a chaste kiss. She doesn’t want to risk waking him, he hasn’t been getting enough sleep as is. This last week had been hard on them, so say the least, but especially on Gavin. Pure exhaustion brought upon by an overload of work reached its climax with a deal gone wrong. He was lucky he made it out alive, much less with just a graze and some extensive contusions. She rubs her thumb across his knuckles. Too close. Too fucking close.

She shuts her eyes tightly. This is why she hates waking up early, too much time alone with her thoughts. She feels Dan’s arm tighten around her and she relaxes; she didn’t even realize she had tensed up. She looks back up at him, slightly surprised to see gorgeous, half-lidded brown eyes peering back at her.

“Mornin’,” he rasps, quietly.

“Wouldn’t go that far,” she whispers back, with a pointed glance at the clock. He follows her gaze and makes a face, burying his face in her hair with an almost inaudible whine.

“Damn you jet lag.”

She turns her head up to kiss his cheek, but he turns at the last second, kissing her lips with a grin. She breaks it a second later, fondly exasperated.

“Your morning breath is disgusting.”

“I thought it wasn’t morning yet,” he responds cheekily, drawing her in closer.

“Just for that, I’m not making you breakfast.”

“B’ll make me–” Dan cuts off his usual retort to look down at the man still sleeping soundly on his chest. Dan takes a breath, fingers moving to skitter across Gavin’s bare back, gently skimming the worst of the bruises and the edge of the surgical tape and gauze pressed against Gavin’s side. It’s silent for a few beats before Dan whispers, “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been with him.”

“Don’t,” Meg snaps instantly. “You were halfway across the world–”

“–exactly–”

“If anyone should’ve been there, it should’ve been me.”

Dan sighs, “you were luv. You went after them.”

“You bet your fucking ass I did,” she mutters darkly, remembering with pride and sick satisfaction as she hunted down every single one of those fucks, broke out her good knives to really drive home the point: the Golden Boy, their Golden Boy, was off limits.

A kiss to the top of her head breaks her out of her reverie. Dan looks at her with a soft look, warm and fond and proud, she can feel herself flush in response.

“I love you,” he whispers. He leans down for a kiss and this time, she doesn’t deny him. She grazes her teeth against his bottom lip, grinning when he inhales sharply.

“Without me? Weak,” a voice croaks near Dan’s shoulder, startling them enough to break apart. They both turn to Gavin simultaneously, and he gives them a sleepy smirk in response. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Spoiled twat,” Dan snaps, but the wide grin belies the harshness of the insult. Gavin hums in response, angling his head for a kiss of his own. Dan obliges readily, kissing him deeply and ending the kiss to press their foreheads together. “Scared the shite outta me, you know that? Bastard.”

“B, it was fine B.”

“Yeah?” Dan raises an eyebrow and gently pokes one of his bruises, snorting when Gavin’s attempt to stifle the pained grunt is unsuccessful.

“Turney, Dan’s being a tosspot,” he whines then, gripping Meg’s hand tightly and turning those glittering green eyes towards her.

Meg shakes her head, hiding a grin. “Not even a kiss before you start bitching to me? I see how it is, Gavino.”

“Aw Turney, lovely Turney,” he sits up on his elbow with minimal groaning and leans across Dan to press a kiss to her cheek. “Saved you from my morning breath.”

“Aaaand, that’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Aw what! Weak!” Dan whines.

Gavin gives him his patented smug look and collapses back against his side with a grunt. Dan immediately buries his hand in Gavin’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Gavin hums happily, closing his eyes.

“What’re you lot doing up anyway? Both being up ‘fore noon is a sign of the damn apocalypse.”

“Jet lag.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Meg sighs and cuddles further against Dan. “Would totally be willing to try again though. Geoff gave us the week off anyway; we have no where to be.”

Gavin grumble of “I don’t need the bloody week off” is largely ignored by both his partners.

“Let’s go for sushi,” Dan suggests excitedly. “That place by the pier.”

“That sounds lush! Let’s make it a beach day; it’s been too long since we went for swimmies.”

“If you get your stitches wet, you’re dealing with Caleb on your own,” Meg warns. Gavin shrugs dismissively as she sighs fondly. “Fine, beach day it is.”

“Class,” Gavin whispers. His bruises stick out in the pre-dawn glow, making him seem more fragile, breakable. Human. Less the coveted Golden Boy, and more the easy-going, intelligent prat that stole both their hearts without an ounce of effort. Dan smiles and runs his hand through Gavin’s hair again.

“Go on back to sleep, B. It’s still–” he breaks off to yawn. “Hours away.”

“You too, jet lagged baby,” Meg pulls on his ear, rolling her eyes at his betrayed look.

“And you luv, honestly I’m worried for your health. Before noon?” Gavin mumbles, eyes closed. She scoffs in response, reaching out to tweak his nose. He scrunches up, but falls asleep soon after, Dan and Meg looking on fondly.

Dan kisses the top of his head, and then hers before settling, dropping off soon after. Meg stays up a bit longer, petting Columbo who woke up to sleepily curl up on Dan’s stomach and holding vigil over her boys.

When she moved to Los Santos, she was sure of two things: love wasn’t real and mornings were God’s bane on the earth.

Now, as her eyes droop and her body relaxes against Dan’s warmth, her fingers still entwined with Gavin’s, she can admit she was wrong. About the love thing. Mornings can still suck her dick.

anonymous asked:

can i ask for the meaning of your url?

of course!! ^o^ NOCTILIN is a combination of “noct-” from “nocturnal” which means “active/awake at night” and “-illin” from “penicillin” also known as antibiotic pills which are known to cure infections!

so, “noctilin” pretty much means sleeping pills (curing sleeplessness infections) OR you can also interpret it as pills that will induce sleeplessness, the total opposite! i like both meanings and both works for me: i need sleep cause i’m always SLEEPLESS, hence my tumblr blog title :3c

i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved. i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved. i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved. i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved. i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved. i just want to be loved. i just want to feel loved.

i am craving the feeling of being craved.

Elliot was really Wren in a mask (Wren/Melissa team theory)

I’ve never written a theory post before but I’m starting to rewatch episodes of 7A and the very first episode of that season got me thinking a lot.

Marlene King just came out in an interview saying that there will be very realistic masks used in the finale. I started to think about how we saw these masks in 7A with the Wilden mask used to make Ali go crazy and how Elliot/Archer used this to his advantage. So hear me out. What if Wren actually was wearing this Elliot mask? And the girls actually killed the real Archer. The one whose identity was essentially stolen by Wren. In 7x01, Toby is going through stuff of Mary’s and sees that she had visited Heathrow around the time of Charlotte’s death. Okay, so who is the only character we know that is from England? Not to mention, Caleb and Mona are staking out Mary Drake and overhear her speaking with someone with a British accent. We are supposed to think this is Elliot, but what if it’s really Wren? Most actors would disguise a British accent or any other accent if it wasn’t relevant to the plot but this is clearly VERY relevant. Wren has the means to do all of this. He has the money. He has the medical knowledge. Elliot seemed quite knowledgeable enough to sedate Alison in the hospital and to be in control of her medication. Wren would have the access to those things too. Now who is the real mastermind behind this? Melissa, obviously. Melissa has more motive than Wren. Melissa has always been jealous of Spencer and has always hated Alison. Finding out that Spencer is actually related to Alison just makes the torment even more “justified.” Melissa utilizes Wren to gain access to things like medical records and Radley. I have always thought it would make sense for A.D. to be both a man and a woman since often times it appears to be a feminine figure and other times, a bit more masculine. Given Elliot/Wren’s access to the hospital, this would also probably mean that Wren is Emison’s baby daddy. I would also presume that Wren might have a personal interest in things with having been at Radley and knowing Mona (where he may have gotten the idea to steal the game) and Charlotte was also there as well as Spencer. All roads lead back to Radley. I also think all roads lead back to the House of Hastings and the Dilaurentis family. Also, I cannot remember what the episode was in season 1 but Wren referred to Spencer’s house as “the house of Hastings.” Does this sounds familiar to you? Good, because it’s written right smack on the gameboard. Mary Drake in 7x01 then goes on to say that Melissa and Spencer look like twins. And Spencer says people thought that when they were younger. I don’t know the relevance of this statement but this has to have a deeper meaning. As much as I want to believe in a Twincer, I don’t know if they’ll go the twin route again. However, it does make me think about Bethany. What is her connection here? What is her age? I’m asking because I genuinely have no idea. But if Charles and her were friends, they would be about the same age. Meaning that Bethany and Cece would be the same age. That makes me wonder if Melissa really did kill Bethany or is Melissa actually Bethany? That would also give some more meaning or context to the puzzle pieces on the board game. It’s a double meaning. 1. Melissa is actually Black Widow, maybe? 2. It’s hers/Bethany’s drawing. Or it’s a drawing of Elliot’s face sort of as a clue that they killed the wrong guy. They killed the stolen identity of Archer and the Archer who tormented Ali was really Wren in a mask. I would go as far back as to say Wren could still be board shorts and have some type of history with Ali to then manipulate her into marrying him without her even knowing. Ali mentions that she went to the bar Snookers where apparently the voice of Elliot is coming from back when she was seeing Ezra. So maybe Wren knew Ezra through Ali? This would also explain that bizarre airplane scene. That Spencer may have been Melissa wearing a mask to speak to Wren so as not to reveal her identity. It was extremely weird in the way she spoke to Ezra and the way Ezra interacted with Wren. There’s more to the story.

I have no idea if anything I just wrote makes sense because I can’t even follow this show. I’ve never written a theory so if anything I wrote makes zero sense, let me know! I’m going to keep adding to this but this is stuff I got just from 7x01! I’m going to continue to rewatch season 7 for clues.

anonymous asked:

Family dinner with daddies (Regis, Clarus, Cor [I know, not a dad, but let's pretend!]) kids (Gladio n Ignis) babies (Noct n Pompom)! Shenanigans!

“And what about what the Chancellor said –?” Clarus was cut off mid-question as his boisterous boy slammed his cutlery down and growled something about ‘if they didn’t have to eat their veggies, then why should he?’

Clarus winced. “Apologies, Majesty,” he rumbled, turning to Gladio to admonish him at exactly the same time as a spoonful of green gloop flew across the table and caught Cor in the left eye.

“Noctis!” Regis gasped. “Don’t ever play with your food like that!” he snapped. “Apologise to Cor immediately.”

“Pompom told me to,” Noctis said sullenly, pointing at the blond who went a violent shade of strawberry pink and turned huge blue eyes innocently on Cor.

“Notti! I didn’t,” he said in a tiny voice.

Cor wiped the gloop from his face with a napkin and sighed. “We were fools to think we could ever get these three to sit quietly.”


As a thank you for reaching 150 followers (though I’m now somehow at over 300), I’m writing 150 word drabbles. Send me a person or a pairing plus a word or a sentence, and I’ll write you a 150 word drabble (or headcanon) in return! (note, drabble requests will close around Friday/Saturday 23rd/24th June)

smashtap  asked:

hey! just want to drop by and say i get so excited every time you post and i really enjoy all the writing you do especially about stain! thank you so much for giving stain love!

Admin Speaks: You are one of the few names that I see frequently in my notifications and always smile a little at it, don’t know why but when I see returning names I get a little giddy! Thank you for enjoying what I put out into the world, it really means a lot to me 

Originally posted by yurionice

moon phases.

new moon:
setting intentions.
hard energy.

waxing crescent moon:
resting, focusing.
soft energy.

first quarter moon:
taking action.
hard energy.

waxing gibbous moon:
trusting, holding faith.
soft energy.

full moon:
acknowledging.
hard energy.

waning gibbous moon/disseminating moon: 
receiving, expressing gratitude.
soft energy.

last quarter moon:
returning, giving thanks.
hard energy.

waning crescent moon/balsamic moon:
reflecting, resting, restoring.
soft energy.


  • new moon: the moon is literally new. a rebirth. use this moon for intentions to do with fresh beginnings, starting again, cleansing. 

  • waxing moons: the moon is increasing its size, it is opening; use these moons for intentions about gaining, growing or expanding.
  • full moon: the moon is at full charge, and can be the most powerful phase in the moon cycle. use this moon for intentions to do with power, clarity, or psychic ability.

  • waning moons: the moon is decreasing its size, it is closing; use these moons for intentions about ridding yourself of something (or someone).

application to the craft:

focus is the most important aspect of bringing an intent to manifest itself. focusing your energy can be made simpler by working with a compatible energy in the world as you focus that intent. 

if the world around you is releasing an energy complementary to yours, it can be easier for that energy to find its way into reality; as opposed to facing any natural adversity.

  • cast soft energy intents in soft phases of the moon. (tranquility, creativity)
  • cast hard energy intents in hard phases of the moon. (strength, control)

this, in my opinion, is the concept of “the power of thought.” when more than one person thinks a thought, that thought holds more weight. this could explain why people practicing or praying together can often yield stronger, or more immediate results. it is a similar reasoning as incorporating tools and ritual into magick, as well.

your energy is a power in itself. but using the power of the elements, the environments, and the world can serve to add to that power.