knee length coat


This is an expert from my post “THE MONGOLS AND THE RISE OF GENGHIS KHAN”. 

It is an army after the fashion of peasantry, being liable to all manner of contributions and rendering it without complaint whatever is enjoined upon it… It is also a peasantry in the guise of an army, all of them, great or small, noble or base, in time of battle becoming swordsmen. Archers and lancers and advancing in whatever manner the occasion requires.” – Ala-ad-Din Ata-Malik Juvaini, Persian historian and governor of Baghdad.

Mongols began their journey into maturity at a young age; around the age of three their mothers taught them to ride horses, being able to ride alongside their parents at the age of four and able to race at the age of six. At the age four or five they were given their first bow and by the age of fourteen or fifteen they were old enough to be enlisted into the army – possibly acting simply as herdsmen or members of the baggage train. 

“-their children begin as soon as they are two or three years old to ride and manage horses and to gallop on them, and they are given bows to suit their stature and are taught to shoot; they are extremely agile and also intrepid. Young girls and women ride and gallop on horseback with agility like men.” – Giovanni of Pian del Carpine.

Military training wasn’t as necessary for Mongol recruits as by this time they had already spent years herding and hunting on horseback; learning how to track, pursue, carol, and kill game. In particular they engaged battues, or ‘nerge’; a great hunt in which “beaters” spent a month driving animals into a certain pre-chosen area which would then be encircled and closed off.

^ Kublai Khan on a hunting expedition.

When in a battue we hunt the cunning wild beasts, for you we shall go ahead and round them up. For you we shall drive the beasts of the steppe until their bellies press together; for you we shall drive the beasts of the steep banks until their thighs press together.” – The Secret History of the Mongols.

When ordered to go ahead and round up wild beasts in a battue, for you I would have driven the beasts of the cliffs Until their forelegs pressed together. For you I would have driven the beasts of the steep banks until their thighs pressed together. For you I would have driven the beasts of the steppe until their bellies pressed together.” – The Secret History of the Mongols.

These Mongolian wolves are big and savage, often attacking the herds, and one alone will pull down a good horse or steer. The people wage more or less unsuccessful war upon them and at times they organize a sort of battue. Men, armed with lassoes, are stationed at strategic points, while others, routing the wolves from their lair, drive them within reach.” – Elizabeth Kendall.

As the circumference of the battue circle closes in, the wild beasts are forced into a confined region, they are then shot down. First to be given an opportunity to hunt choice game were the nobility and royalty who would then open up the hunt to their remaining troops. Wild game hunted consisted of foxes, hares, swans, cranes, deer, gazelles, cattle, wild boars and wild asses, but also included more dangerous animals like wolves, Siberian tigers and bears.

When they want to hunt wild animals they gather together in a great crowd and surround the district in which they know the animals to be, and gradually close in until between them they shut in the animals in a circle and then they shoot them with their arrows.” – William of Rubruck.

During Genghis’ campaign against the Khwarezmian Empire of Greater Iran, he felt that his reserves had spent too much time away from battle and would eventually grow soft and weak. To alleviate this he ordered them to engage in a great battue (the great khan also joined in) which encircled a vast area and killed off all game within. The battue were not only for sport, they also trained the Mongol warriors in cooperation, coordination, discipline, marksmanship, tracking as well as luring the enemy toward a chosen battlefield. 

Other skills these young Mongols attained throughout their lifetime were scouting and knowledge of vegetation, environment, weather and climate. These Mongols would continue campaigning for most of their lives but all the while these warriors weren’t paid, their only form of income came from raiding, looting and from a portion of the war booty. They would then give the Great Khan all of the loot, he would take 10% then distribute the rest to his highest commanders who would then distribute to those below then and so on. Some of the loot was also given to the orphans and widows left behind by fallen Mongol soldiers. 


“… In appearance the Tartars (Mongols) are quite different from all other men, for they are broader than other people between the eyes and across the cheekbones. Their cheeks also are rather prominent above their jaws; they have a flat and small nose, their eyes are little and their eyelids raised up to the eyebrows. For the most part, but with a few exceptions, they are slender about the waist; almost all are medium height. Hardly any of them grow beards, although some have a little hair on the upper lip and chin and this they do not trim … They also have small feet.” – Giovanni of Pian del Carpine, who traveled as the Pope’s ambassador to the Mongols between 1245 and 1247 CE.

Similar to the hairstyle we usually think of when we think of Christian monks, the Mongols had the tops of their heads shaved. The hairline above the forehead and temples was grown out with hair hanging from the center reaching as far as the eyebrows, sometimes there would be two locks of hair at the hairline’s ends. They also allowed the hair on the back and sides of their heads to grow, with two locks of hair hanging either behind the ears or down the sideburns. Generally, the Mongols were bow legged (from horse riding) and short, their baggy clothing made them look all the more stout and stocky.

Osprey – ‘Warrior’ series, issue 84 – Mongol Warrior 1200-1350 by Stephen Turnbull and Wayne Reynolds. Plate A.

Like most other people whom lived in the frigid and bitter northern regions of the world, the Mongols generally wore many layers of clothing, usually in the form of furs or padded cloths. The Mongols wore long-sleeved shirts under long knee-length robe-like coats made of cotton, wool or leather which had a belt wrapped around the waist. If necessary they would add a coat or two, if both coats were used then the innermost one would have the furred side facing their person and the outer one with the fur facing outward to aid against the weather – rain, winds, snows (according to William of Rubruck). Both their robe’s sleeves and their trousers were wide, with the latter being tucked into their leather or felt high boots. 

As they campaigned against Chinese and Islamic nations, they were increasingly accustomed to finer fabrics and materials such as silk. Silk shirts were supposedly capable of, if worn under leather lamellar armor, causing arrow points that penetrated the armor into twisting and lessening the impact. They wore thick socks made of felt (wool) and wore the traditional ‘Mongolian cap’ which consisted of a conical made of quilted cloth, felt or fur and a brim encircling the sides and back of it which could be folded to further warm the wearer. During warmer seasons and in more humid climates the Mongols wrapped a cloth around their head which was eventually tied in the back in the form of a headband.

The Mongol Warrior

During the kuriltai of 1206 CE a white standard was raised (“They hoisted the white standard with nine tails”), this banner (‘tug’) consisted of a long pole with a circular top with nine white tails (yak or horse) hanging down from it.  White haired tails were used in times of peace, which is why the one was raised when the Mongols were united at the kuriltai of 1206 CE was white. Black haired tails, however, were raised during times of war. In front of the Great Khan’s ger (tent) were the ‘Nine White Banners’: one in the center, which was the tallest, and eight others surrounding this central banner.

As for me, I have consecrated (sprinkled) my standard which is visible from afar; I have beaten my bellowing drum covered with the hide of a black bull; I have mounted my swift black horse; I have put on my armor (‘steel-hard dress’) and grasped my steel spear; I have placed on the bowstring my arrow with its nock of wild peach bark. I am ready, let us start and give battle to the Qa’at Merkit!” – The Secret History of the Mongols.

Then say to them, ‘My long (streamers of horse or yak tails) standard, visible from afar, I have consecrated; I have beaten my deep-sounding drum covered with ox-hide; I have mounted my swift horse, the one with a black stripe along the backbone; I have put on my leather-strapped breastplate, and grasped my hilted sword; I have placed on the bowstring my nocked arrow. I am ready, let us fight to the death against the Uduyit Merkit!’

Genghis Khan (“To those who sided with me when I was establishing our nation, I shall express my appreciation”) assigned eighty-eight of his companions to the rank of commander (despite their ethnicity, religion or social class). Most of these men would lead a single tumen (‘ten-thousand’) each – Jebe (‘the arrow’) and Jelme (‘blood sucker’) were two of them. Each commander was given a great drum (naccara); if this drum was struck once it signaled that it was time to prepare their horses for travel and place their equipment on them. The second beating indicated that it was time to disassemble and organize their tents and the third pounding indicated that it was finally time to move off from camp. All this was done in silence: when moving off from a camp site, during combat and when preparing camp.

Osprey – ‘Men-at-Arms’ series, issue 105 – The Mongols by Stephen Turnbull and Angus McBride (Illustrator). Plate C.

It is like a very tall whistle of bronze or copper and across the top of it there is stretched a large piece of leather… and this is supported by four stakes as high as a man’s waist… and if the chieftain wished to move camp, when midnight is passed he orders the drum to be struck and the man who is allotted this task grasps two wooden maces in his two hands… and strikes as hard as his strength and breath allow him to do.” – Friar David of Ashby.

In their eerie silence these white and black banners would signal the light cavalrymen to attack or retreat while the naccara (war drums) were banged as a signal for a full-on assault including heavy cavalrymen. The silence would be replaced with the maddening howls and yelling of the charging horsemen which would force the enemy into fleeing. One reason for the silence was so the horsemen could keep a low profile, they would draw little attention so the enemy wouldn’t expect their sudden assaults until it was too late for them to react effectively.

The steppe nomads were known to use a decimal system as an organizational structure, the Mongols too utilized it. In this system a commander or officer only needed to communicate with the ten below them – making the passing of orders and intel much easier and faster.

  • Arban – a squad of 10 men. This was the smallest unit size; the oldest person in this squad would usually take on the leadership role.
  • Jagun or zagun – 10 arbans equaling 100.
  • Minghan – 10 jugans equaling 1,000.
  • Tumen – 10 minghans equaling 10,000. Though a tumen didn’t always reach ten thousand, sometimes being bolstered by auxiliaries (5,000) which could make up to half of the Tumen’s full size. Temujin would also make it illegal under penalty of death to change into another unit. This often separated sons from fathers, siblings and cousins so this essentially broke familial loyalties. Now no matter your ethnicity, religion or previous clan and tribal associations, your squad became your new family.

Like most other steppe cultures, the first weapon that comes to mind is the bow. The Mongols typically carried two bows with them, one short and one long, both of which were held within their own individual bow cases. The shorter bow was used for short range attacked while the longer compound reflex bow could reach between a range of 200-300 meters (656-984 ft.) with an account of a man called Yesüngge (Genghis Khan’s nephew) able to shoot “a target at 335 alds (536 m. or 1,758 ft.)“. 

They also brought along two to three quivers, each holding about thirty arrows each. These bows were pulled back by way of the so-called ‘Mongolian Draw/Release’, in this style the index and middle finger are abandoned in favor of the thumb which was then supported by index and middle finger which rested atop the back of the thumb. The Mongols would wear a ring which allowed faster and more powerful shots. These rings could be made of bone, horn, stone, leather, metal and other materials.

Every [Mongol] is ordered to carry into battle sixty arrows, thirty smaller ones for piercing and thirty larger with broad heads for discharging at close quarters. With these latter they wound one another in the face or arms and cut through bowstrings and inflict heavy loses.” – Marco Polo.

Primarily there were two types of arrows used, light arrows with small arrow heads which were used for long range and heavier arrows ones with broader arrow heads that made them powerful armor-piercing missiles (due to the fact that they were heated until red-hot then dipped into salt water) used at close quarters (range of 150 yards and much deadlier at close range). A whetstone was attached to a quiver, this tool was used to file and sharpen arrowheads and blades. The greater majority of the Mongol army consisted of light cavalrymen (six in ten) so most wore little to no armor and used small swords, bows and javelins.

Osprey – ‘Warrior’ series, issue 084 – Mongol Warrior 1200-1350 by Stephen Turnbull and Wayne Reynolds (illustrator). Plate B.

Heavy cavalrymen, despite rarely being thought of, were an important and integral part of the Mongol army. Armed with scimitars, axes, and twelve foot long lances with a hook near the tip used to yank men off their horses. These elite warriors wore cuirasses consisting of five segments of leather which were boiled in order to soften them (in effect creating a flexible piece of armor) then they were tied to each other. The leather segments would also, with the help of lacquer, become waterproof. This lamellar-like style of armor was also implemented into the creation of greaves and even horse armors.

One on one side of the horse and one on the other, and these stretched from the tail to the head and are fastened to the saddle and behind the saddle on to its back and also on the neck; another section they put over its hindquarters where the ties of the two parts are fastened and in the last named piece they make a hole for the tail or come through; covering the breast is another section. All these pieces reach down as far as the knees or joints of the leg. On its forehead they put an iron plate which is tied to the aforementioned sections on each side of the neck.” – Giovanni of Pian del Carpine.

Osprey – ‘Men-at-Arms’ series, issue 105 – The Mongols by Stephen Turnbull and Angus McBride (Illustrator).

Another form of leather armor worn was scale armor which consisted of thin but long scales of leather (20 lbs.) designed in lamellar-like fashion. According to Friar William of Rubruck, a Flemish (Dutch Flanders) missionary (Franciscan) and explorer who traveled throughout the Mongol Empire, the Mongols attained iron caps and iron plated armors from Persia. They used lassos, swords (scimitars from the Turks), light axes, maces, spears, lances and small round shields. Lances, however, are mentioned as being their primary weapon. These lances featured a hook which was used to pull enemy combatants off from horseback and yank shields so to open the enemy up to an attack.

A common battle tactic used by the Mongols was the Tulughma, or ‘standard sweep’; arranging themselves in a checkerboard-like formation similar to the Roman Republic’s manipular formation. This granted them free space to maneuver so the light horse archers that lay in the back rows to snake through the heavy lancers divisions in the front rows while the light cavalrymen at the wings weave around them to flank the enemy.

Tulughma or “standard sweep. Osprey – ‘Men-at-Arms’ series, issue 105 – The Mongols by S. R. Turnbull and Angus McBride (Illustrator).

The horse archers would then blot out the sun with flurries of arrow fire and once they were successful in sending the enemy into disarray, the heavy cavalry lancers would stride forward and smite the enemy or force them into routing. If the arrow volleys did not sufficiently stagger the enemy and the light cavalry archers were forced to retreat they would make their way back behind the safety of their core force while letting loose Parthian shots, their place would be recycled by another. The light horse bowmen and heavy cavalry lancers would then engage in a cascade of alternating assaults echoing the actions of the Parthians that obliterated the Romans at the Battle of Carrhae in 53 BCE.

The Mongols tie branches to the tail of their horses to create a blinding storm of dust or sand which could obscure an escape or grant the illusion of a larger Mongol force. Like the Persian Immortals, most of this was done in complete silence from the soldiers. Directions were given by lanterns. the beating of drums, cracking of whips or the waving, raising or lowering of flags. The Mongols would strive to surround and outflank the enemy but they always allowed the enemy an outlet to flee through since cornered rats fought ever fiercer. If the enemy are in dire straits, were given an escape route and followed it then they would be chased and hunted down by the Mongol warriors.

If it happens that the enemy fight well, the Tartars make way of escape for them, then as soon as they begin to take flight and are separated from each other they fall upon them and more are slaughtered in flight than could be killed in battle.” – Giovanni of Pian del Carpine.

When you surround an army, leave an outlet free. Do not press a desperate foe too hard.” – Art of War by Sun Tzu.

Back in 1204 CE, two years before he was declared Genghis Khan, he set out against To’oril, Jamuqa and the Naimans. For the most part much of Mongol warfare consisted of unorganized skirmishes and the individual warrior’s skill but in this battle Temujin shows how he successfully employed three different battle formations which overwhelmed the enemy.

“[Temujin] rode against them and, having driven away their patrolmen, he arrayed his troops and together with the army leaders decided to advance in ‘caragana’ marching-order, to stand in ‘lake’ battle-formation and fight a ‘chisel’ combat” – The Secret History of the Mongols, 195.

One such formation was the Caragana (peashrub of Siberia, Mongolia and northern China) also known as the ‘Moving Bush’ or ‘Tumbleweed’ Formation: instead of a full-scale assault on the enemy, the Mongols split up into arbans (squads of ten men each) and peppered the enemy from any and all directions. The Mongol arbans would act almost independently of one another, advancing and retreating. The enemy wouldn’t know where the next attack or wave would come from and which to advance against. Since the skirmish began in the darkness of the early morning the Mongol numbers were obscured. This formation was usually used during dark, cloudy or foggy days and under the cover of darkness (dusk till dawn).

The next phase of the battle was followed by the so-called ‘Lake Formation’ which mimicked the waves hitting the shore. The Mongols would form up in horizontal lines and harass the enemy like a wave. They would then retreat back through the gaps of the new wave of assailants and prepare for their next wave. After performing this formation the enemy formed up into a thin line in order to meet the Mongols. Now forcing the enemy into spreading and thinning their ranks out, the Mongols changed to the next formation in their strategy. 

The next stage was the so-called ‘Chisel Formation’: the Mongols narrowed their vanguard whose ranks behind it widened – like an arrowhead. This formation is similar to the more well-known ‘Wedge’, ‘Draco’, and ‘Boar’s Snout’ formations. This formation would allow the concentrated Mongol vanguard to break through the thinned out enemy line. The enemy was unable to keep up with the shifting tactics of the Mongols; overwhelmed and outmatched, the enemy were no match.

Another popular tactic was the ‘Crow Swarm/Soldiers’, ‘Ocean Waves’ or ‘Falling/Scattered Stars’: this was sort of like the ‘Moving Bush Formation’. Like the ‘Moving Bush Formation’ they utilized small bands which surrounded the enemy, even if the enemy had a larger army. The difference here was that these small bands were at least half the size of the Moving Bush’s. At the beating of a drum, fire signals, crack of a whip or a shout, the small bands all attacked in unison like a massive oceanic wave. This raucous assault was then followed by a silent retreat and repeated if necessary.


In Mongol tribal societies, assassinations were common and loyalties shifted like the sands of the great Gobi Desert. Warriors swayed from leader to leader, whichever granted them the most potential profit and fit their immediate needs. Being that these steppe nomads lived in tents it was not that difficult for someone to slip in and kill someone else, because of this Genghis Khan created a band of bodyguards numbering some one hundred and fifty sworn followers (keshig or Keshik, “blessed or favored”); seventy day guards (Torguud) and eighty night guards (khevtuul).

^ Mongol (2007). My snapshot.

“[Genghis Khan] chose and recruited eighty men to serve on roster as nightguards and seventy men to serve as dayguards. He recruited them from the sons and younger brothers of commanders of a thousand and of a hundred, as well as from the sons and younger brothers of mere ordinary people, choosing and recruiting those who were able and of good appearance.” – The Secret History of the Mongols, 191.

Day and night shift:

Chinggis Qa’an further ordered: ‘The quiverbearers, the dayguards, the stewards, the doorkeepers and the grooms are to go on roster duty in daytime. Before the sun sets they shall see to make way for the nightguards; they shall go out to their geldings and spend the night there. At night, the nightguards shall see that those of their men whose duty it is to lie all around Our tent do so, and they shall put on roster those of their men whose duty it is to stand at the door to guard it. The following morning, when We eat soup, the quiverbearers and the dayguards shall report to the nightguards; the quiverbearers, dayguards, stewards and doorkeepers shall all carry out their respective tasks and take their appointed places.” – The Secret History of the Mongols. 192.

^ Marco Polo (Netflix TV series).

This elite bodyguard eventually grew from a group of 150 men into a full tumen (unit of ten-thousand men) and would continue to be used by the Turco-Mongol led Mughal Empire of India (Khishig) and the Turco-Mongol led Il-kanate of Greater Persia (Keshikchi). Even the famed Venetian merchant and traveler Marco Polo is suspected to have been part of this secretive order, his deep knowledge of Mongol society and his closeness to the Khan (Kublai Khan) hints towards some sort of special relationship. The Keshig not only operated as a system of elite bodyguards but also as administrators, overseers and as a military academy that could lead its members into the position of commanders of a tumen (ten-thousand). Many of the Keshig were sons of high ranking Mongol commanders over tumens and minghans (thousand). By allowing their sons into this order the Great Khan was effectively using them as hostages.

Osprey – ‘Warrior’ series, issue 84 – Mongol Warrior 1200-1350 by Stephen Turnbull and Wayne Reynolds. Plate H.

As a whole, under Genghis Khan’s rule steppe armies became far more professionalized. Before commencing march, the commanders and officers had to inspect their men’s gear, equipment and supplies – every piece of armor or weaponry had to be in good condition. The Mongols brought with them needle and thread to keep their clothing and armor in good condition. Only after the inspection had been passed could the Mongols continue on their campaign.

^ Mongol (2007).

While on the march or in battle, any item that was dropped must be picked up by the man behind the owner; be it a bow, sword, sowing needle or whip – failing to do so could result in being executed. There were certain people who searched throughout the deserted camp site for any belongings that may have been accidentally left behind. Other acts that were punishable by death were desertion, fleeing from the field when not given such order, looting the fallen before given permission and guards found sleeping on their watch. Lesser infractions resulted in the penalty of being caned; the number of times struck depended on how many times you’ve stepped out of line.

When they are in battle, if one or two or three or even more out of a group of ten run away, all are put to death; and if a whole group of ten flees, the rest of the group of a hundred are all put to death, if they do not flee too. In a word, unless they retreat in a body, all who take flight are put to death. Likewise if one or two or more go forward boldly to the flight, then the rest of the ten are put to death if they do not follow and, if one or more of the ten are captured, their companions are put to death if they do not rescue them.” – Giovanni of Pian del Carpine.

The first failure of a guardsman to appear on duty is to be punished with 30 strokes, a second failure with 70 strokes and a third failure with 37 strokes and expulsion from the guard…” – The Secret History of the Mongols.

  • Head over to my post, “GENGHIS KHAN, THE STALLION WHO MOUNTS THE WORLD”, to read more about how Genghis Khan was pressured into campaigning out of China toward Central Asia (Kara Khitai Khanate), to Greater Iran (Khwarezmian Empire), to the frontier of Eastern Europe (Medieval Russia and Ukraine) and back to China. I also cover Mongol shamanism and their tolerance of foreign religions, the famed ‘Yam’ pony express, their tactical use of captives and their massive deportation policy.
  • To read up on the early history of the Mongols, check out my post ‘THE MONGOLS AND THE RISE OF GENGHIS KHAN’. In this post I speak about the Mongolian transition from seemingly insignificant tribal confederacies into an empire that was four times the size of Alexander’s and twice the size of the Roman’s. I cover their military tactics, some of their battle formations, armaments, their rapid adaptation of foreign technologies, and their secretive order of bodyguards known as the Keshik. During Genghis Khan’s early reign the Mongols warred against themselves and their fellow steppe neighbors as well as Northern China’s Western Xia dynasty (Tanguts: Tibeto-Burmese) and eastern Jinn dynasty (Tungusic Jurchens who were Sinicized).
Misunderstandings // Min Yoongi (ft. Jimin)

Originally posted by btsfunboyz

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Jimin)

Genre: Angst // Fluff

Summary//Request: As you plan a surprise birthday party for Yoongi with the help of Jimin, he gets suspicious and insecure about your relationship as you spend all your time with Jimin. Fluffy ending ^_^

A/N: So, I decided to try out a new thing were I actually include texts as pictures to and from the reader and the person in the story! (instead of writing them in bold as I have done previously). Let me know what you guys think of it, and I’ll make sure to do more!

You threw your phone in your lap out of pure frustration after reading what Yoongi had sent you as you gently massaged your temples, feeling a migraine making itself at home in your frontal lobes.

“Woah, what happened?” Jimin jumped in surprise, almost letting all of the air out of the balloon he had been blowing up and trying to tie for the past 10 minutes.

“It’s Yoongi – he thinks there’s something going on between you and I because I’ve been ignoring him all day trying to organise his birthday surprise” you let out a harsh, disgruntled sigh as Jimin gave you a look of complete disbelief before nervously chuckling in response.

Keep reading

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 8

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] | [Pt 9] [Pt 10]

Pairing: Namjoon/Rap Monster x Reader
Rating: M
Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 4,470

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: I don’t know what to say in this A/N~ lmao I have to think of more plot. this is as far as my mind got. I have some ideas in my but now I have to mold them so they make sense lol.

“Well, look who finally decides to show up,” Hoseok teases, raising his half-empty glass of liquor to Jin as the doctor approaches. Sighing tiredly, Jin shrugs off his heavy knee-length coat and sets his briefcase down, leaning it against the leg of the table. By the time he slides into his seat Hoseok has a drink ready for him, and Jin doesn’t hesitate in taking a long sip.

“Rough day?”

“Dr. Hwangae had to leave right before a scheduled lobectomy because a patient who recently underwent brain surgery to remove some stage 4 glioblastoma cells began having a seizure—so I had to perform the surgery alone.”

Hoseok blinks at Seokjin over the rim of his glass, eyebrows raised ever so slightly.

“Would you like me to pretend that I know what you’re talking about…?”

Taking a deep breath, Jin leans his elbows onto the table and slumps forward. “I had to take out a part of a man’s lung—because smoking is bad,” Jin adds in scoldingly when Hoseok tugs a box of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his coat. Blinking innocently at Jin, Hoseok holds the white stick to his lips and the two have a brief stare-off before Jin finally gives up, and with an amused snort Hoseok lights the cigarette.

“So what’s been going on with you lately?” Jin questions, attempting to divert the topic away from his overly long day. A 7am to 10pm shift at the hospital is rough—even if he is an excellent doctor. “Anything exciting brewing?”

“Eh, ya know,” Hoseok says, taking a deep drag and flicking away the crumbling end of the cigarette into a nearby ashtray. “Stocks are the same as always—some rise and some fall. I still get paid for giving out info.”

“Of course,” Jin grants. “And?”

“Looks like JB and his crew had a run in with the cops in Busan the other day, but they all made it out. And there was word that Yoongi successfully secured Namjoon’s next shipment in Daegu and is on his way back here right now.”

“Hmm…that’s good,” Jin responds, swirling his drink in his hand, and Hoseok snorts.

“What? Are you rooting for the mafia now? Has your big heart finally overtaken common sense?”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Hardly. I don’t support any of their causes, but you know as a doctor I—”

“—tend to care for all people and their health,” Hoseok interrupts, waving his hand flippantly. “Yes, hyung, I’m aware. You’re a kind hearted and handsome young doctor.”

Jin laughs quietly, taking another sip from his drink. Hoseok mimics his action, and the two fall into a quiet silence. Somewhere in the background is the whirl of an ambulance and the deafened blues melody of a piano.

“So,” Hoseok begins, catching Jin’s attention. The younger’s aura shifts into something a little less easygoing. “Have you met Namjoon’s new play thing?”

Jin winces slightly at the degrading nickname, but nonetheless nods his head. “Y/N? Yes, I’ve encountered her. She had a run in with the police and Namjoon asked me to go and get her.”

“Wait, seriously?!” Hoseok blanches, eyes widening. There are two things from Jin’s previous statement that amaze him. One is that the police had actually managed to connect you to Namjoon so soon. Two is that…well…Namjoon had actually asked for help in retrieving you instead of simply throwing you to the wind.

Maybe you aren’t just his play thing.

“Namjoon…he…,” Jin sighs irritatedly, running a hand through his hair. He gets frustrated whenever he thinks about Namjoon and how he treats you. How you could be doing so much better, and yet…

Buzz~ Buzz~

“Late night call?” Hoseok grins, waggling his eyebrows, and with a quiet sign Jin begins to dig through his briefcase for his phone. If anything the call is probably from the hospital—ready to ask him to come back in because some higher-up refuses to give up their peaceful night. However, Jin’s not sure whether to be relieved or terrified when he sees your name flashing on the screen.

After a brief second of deliberation he sides with ‘terrified’.


Immediately muffled chatter and club music assaults his ears. He can barely hear your shaky voice above all the background noise, and his face creases in concern. At seeing the negative change Hoseok, curious, leans forward—trying to overhear what’s going on.

Shit…Jin, I…

Oh god, he can already tell that you’re incredibly inebriated.

“Y/N? Shit, what’s going on?” he asks, concern slipping into his voice. At hearing your name spoken Hoseok’s eyes widen in surprise. Clearly something is going on.

I…the world is s-spinning, oh my god…,” you cry, voice hitching, and the image of your confused tears streaming down your face pulls at Jin’s heart strings.

From what he knows of you so far—Jin has a sneaking suspicion that you hadn’t done this to yourself. With everything going he doubts that you would have been so foolish as to drag yourself out to a club and get wasted, so right now he’s incredibly concerned for your safety.

“Y/N, don’t move,” Jin commands sternly, shoving to his feet. “I’m gonna come find you.”

Roughly gripping his coat, Jin’s traps his phone between his ear and shoulder and hurries to grab his briefcase. “Where are you? I—” at that moment the background noises change—wind howling through the speaker—and a second later the line goes dead.

The dial-tone resounding in Jin’s ear makes his blood run cold.

Fuck!” he hisses, tossing his phone onto the table as he wrestles with his coat. He wants to run to you—to make sure you’re alright (because he’s getting a sinking feeling that you’re definitely not)—but he doesn’t know where you are. You had never answered him, and there are way too many clubs scattered around town.

“Give me your phone,” Hoseok suddenly demands, pulling his laptop out of his own briefcase. He shoves the glasses on the table aside, open up the screen, and grabs Jin’s phone when the older takes too long.

Fingers flying over the keys, Hoseok pulls a USB cord out of nowhere and plugs Jin’s phone into his laptop. Immediately the software program picks up the phones call data and begins pin-pointing your location—the recently lost signal bouncing between cell towers.

“God, Hobi, you’re a lifesaver,” Jin speaks honestly when he leans over to see what the business man is doing. Hoseok snorts, his eyes narrowed seriously as they peer at his brightly illuminated laptop screen.

“Yeah, working for the government has some benefits…”

Not a minute later Hoseok gets the coordinates to your location and hands them off to Jin. It seems that you’re in a club on the east end of town—not too far from where they are—and surprisingly when Jin moves to run out of the bar Hoseok follows.

“You may need some help with this,” he says in explanation, shrugging, and Jin isn’t going to argue. At the moment, he just needs to get to you.

Hoping into his car, Jin speeds away. The ride to the club takes far too long, but they make it there in record time nonetheless—immediately jumping to their feet and pushing past the bouncer and into the building.

It’s not hard to tell where you are—a small crowd of people gathered around the base of the stairs, a few men drunkenly yelling ‘stay back!’ and ‘lady are you ok?!’.

Aish,” Jin hisses, pushing through them, and Hoseok stays right on his tail. “Give her space all of you! I’m a fucking doctor alright?!”

Reluctantly, at hearing Jin’s authoritative yell, some of the crowd disperses. Those who don’t are promptly ushered away by Hoseok, and Jin takes that time to kneel down beside you. Obviously you’re out cold—eyes shut tight and body awkwardly sprawled across the tile floor. He can see some obvious bruising on your skin and swelling on the wrist you’d injured a week before, but the most concerning thing is the small pool of blood right beside your head.

Head injuries are not something to fuck with—and Jin needs to give you a real examination right away so he can figure out what kind of treatment you need. And that examination isn’t going to occur here—surrounded by strangers with the shittiest lighting he has ever seen to guide him.

“Hoseok, help me here,” Jin commands, beckoning the younger over. Hoseok is at his side without hesitation, and Jin shoves his car keys into Hoseok palm.

“I’m gonna pick her up. Go get the car ready. We’re putting her in the backseat.”

“Right,” Hoseok nods, sprinting away, and as carefully as he can Jin rolls you onto your back. You don’t even stir—remaining utterly pliant as he molds you into his arms and carefully picks you up. Tucked against his chest, Jin carries you out of the building without challenge—Hoseok helping him to get you in the back seat.

Jin sits beside you during the ride, your head resting in his lap, and as Hoseok drives through the city towards Jin’s residence—each passing streetlight illuminating the car—Jin can see the wide array of bites and bruises marking up every inch of your showing skin.

Namjoon is not going to be happy.

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Right Now

A/N: I only had one official request for it, but I kind of wanted to do it anyway. A follow-up to Accidental Snap. ;) @coveofmemories @sweetg 


You’d decided on seven o’clock. That’s when you’d drive over to his place. Considering your clothes weren’t going to last very long anyway, you decided against them, instead draping a knee-length black trench coat over the deep pink-trimmed sheer lingerie you’d decided on.

Should you snap him? There were risks.

Once you took a picture, it had the opportunity to be out on the internet forever. But Spencer wasn’t the type to do anything with it. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t even know how to screenshot anything. Technology wasn’t his forte; he preferred the analog. 

Screw it.

Before leaving the apartment, you opened the front of the trench coat to reveal your outfit in the mirror. Taking out your phone, you snapped a picture of yourself and sent it to Spencer, with the caption: “Do you like what you see?”

You’d barely closed up your coat and walked down the stairs when he snapped back. “Oh, dear god.”

Within 15 minutes, you’d arrived at his apartment, walking up the stairs on black-strappy heels and already ready for him. He’d said he’d wanted your mouth on him first - and you were more than happy to oblige. 

Knock. Knock.

“Hey,” you smiled, looking from side-to-side to make sure no one was there and opening your coat. “Do I look better in person or in the picture?”

Without a word, he pulled you inside, wrapping his arm around your waist inside the coat. Immediately, his lips found yours. You assumed you had your answer as his breath floated over your neck, the heat from him warming your cooled skin. “I thought you said you wanted my mouth on you first,” you cooed, gently nibbling up to just behind his ear. “I’ll gladly get on my knees.”

He grunted as you pushed him up against the wall and pulled down his pants in one quick movement. “To be honest, last night, this was the first thing that came to my mind,” you said, looking up at him and wandering dangerously closely to his arousal. “When I had my fingers in my pussy, I thought about having your cock in my mouth.” A satisfied thud resounded throughout the apartment as Spencer’s head fell back into the wall. 

“Oh, god, Y/N,” he moaned. As his breathing became more labored, you skirted your hands around his member and near the top of his boxers, gently pulling them down as your mouth followed the movements of his undergarments. His boxers made their way down his legs, painstakingly slowly for him, and you looked up at him the entire time, until a soft thud alerted you to material hitting the floor. The image of the strained muscles in his neck was enough to cause wetness to pool in the boy shorts you wore.

Reaching inside to your slickness, you allowed it to coat your fingers, using it as lubricant. Gently at first, you wrapped your hands around his length - one at the base and one at the top, slowly gliding them both up and down in a fir grip. “Faster,” he whispered, barely audible above both of your labored breathing. As he asked, you picked up the pace, adding the occasional swipe of your tongue into the mix - each time causing a groan of pleasure to erupt from Spencer’s throat. Who knew the Boy Genius from the BAU could look so dirty? Now, you did.

When you felt him surge, you slowed your movements to a near standstill, waiting to get his attention again. He looked down at you slack-jawed, his face filled with a blush not normally worn by him as he tangled his fingers in your hair and brought you closer to where he wanted you. Although you wanted to devour him, make him scream for you, you took it slow - it was time for delicious torture. 

Your thumb began to draw circles at the head of him while your tongue tasted the pre-cum that was dripping from him. “Delicious,” you said with a smile, his hands still in your hair. “More?”

“Yes…please,” he choked as his head fell back into the wall. By degrees, you sheathed him in your mouth, first bobbing up and down on the tip, and then taking more and more of him, until you nearly had all of him.  You were about to pull away, start the process all over again, but instead, he subtly pushed your head forward, as he moved his hips forward. 

For a few moments, you let him take control, thrusting inside of your mouth over and over again. “Oh my god. Holy fuck.”

“Is this what you were picturing last night?” you asked as you removed your mouth from him, stroking him instead with your fingers. “Were you picturing your cock sliding in and out of my mouth? How hard did you come when you thought about me?”

Although he tried to speak, no words came out. With a chuckle, you took him in your mouth again, bracing both hands on either side of the wall as you pushed yourself further onto him. Each movement brought a new feel, a new taste, until you were so overcome with your own pleasure that you allowed your right hand to drift beneath the scrap of material you were wearing. 

When Spencer looked down, he could see what you were doing, simultaneously pleasuring yourself and him, and it nearly brought him over the edge. “Oh god, Y/N,” he grunted. “I’m going to…I’m…”

“Mmmhmm,” you mumbled, his cock still sliding in and out of your mouth. You wanted him too. It was what you had been thinking of last night and now it was your reality. With increased pressure, you pressed your fingers to your center, falling over the brink as you sheathed him entirely, his come rolling into your mouth in waves. 

As you came to stand, you licked your lips, cleaning up the remnants of your act. “Delicious,” you said for the second time this evening. “Care to taste me now?”

“God yes,” he said, picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. “Right now.”

“Every afternoon little and big girls, uniformed in skinny black trousers, knee-length coats and white head scarves pour out of school, joyfully filling the city’s streets. These adorable Afghan girls crowd around street vendors and into shops for after-school treats.” (x)

Halo on Fire

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood


Summary: The boys had kept you safe for long enough, but anything with an essence for the unusual eventually breaks loose, but this time the break is permanent. A blood spell gone awry awakens dormant powers, as you struggle to come to terms with the flood gates bursting you find yourself attached to a certain demon who oozes charisma and sass…

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Multi-Chapter fic, 

Pairing: Reader x Crowley

Warnings: Language

Readers Notes: Well I started writing this a while back, I didn’t want to post until I had a handful of chapters which will be slowly introduced. I had the idea in the back of my mind for ages and started writing whilst on vacation. 

Chapter one:

Obey, obey, come won’t you stay.
Sincere, sincere. All ends in tears.

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Do For Love (Shalaska) - Ch. 1 - Pink Sugar

summary: alaska is the editor in chief of a major magazine that she runs with her best friends, willam and courtney. sharon is the editor in chief of their top competitor in the industry and they hate each other. until they don’t anymore. 

a/n: this is going to be a multi-chapter (depending on how well this first chapter goes down with you). i’ve had this idea in my head for a while and have finally got around to writing it. shalaska with a side of witney, just how i like it. let me know what you guys think! kisses!!!  

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Genre: Smut, Detective!Taehyung, Detective!au
Pairing: Reader x Taehyung
Length: 6.9k
Summary: You were the talk of the town. Everyone knew of the nightingale who lurked around the city, looting filthy rich millionaires. Yet no one but your arch-enemy Detective Kim Taehyung seemed to know of your true identity. He knew your little tricks, your dirty schemes, your every weak point. It wasn’t very long until the game of hide and seek would eventually come to an end.
A/N: I’ve had this in my hands for a while now, but was too nervous to post it ;_; thanks to all of my friends whom bared with my whining :’)

Originally posted by glitterskylines

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anonymous asked:

Kryptonian Lena headcanon: Taylor gives Lexi a bracelet as an anniversary gift and kara and Lena interpret it as a marriage proposal, because thats what giving bracelets meant on krypton. So when they see it they're like "Lexington Luthor Danvers you did NOT get married without even telling us" and its a cute little misunderstanding

So I changed it from Kryptonian Lena to regular Lena since I wanted to make it a full chapter! Hope you don’t mind!

The Bracelet

Lexington Olivia Luthor-Danvers is beyond ecstatic.

She’s … she’s …  

What’s the English word?


Yeah, that’s it.


Intense excitement and happiness.

She can feel it, tingling along her nerve cells, tapping her fingers against her thigh as she studies the interactive galaxy hologram in front of her.

It’s her birthday, one of her favorite holidays. It isn’t like the winter holidays, where all of her family gets together and the laughter fills the apartment. And isn’t like her adoption day, where she just feels so much and all at once. But still, it’s nice and people are nice, and she had brunch with Taylor that morning and her moms are on their way to take her to dinner…

It’s a nice day, and she sighs happily as she gazes up at the planets and stars swirling around her. She needs to remember to get with Uncle Winn next time she visits National City so they can program in the new planetary system that was discovered last week. She could do it herself, but it’s their project, she can’t just fix it without him. Even if all it would take was a simple -

A knock on her dorm room door startles her out of her thoughts and she bounces up, throwing it open to reveal her parents standing in the hall.

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Things I Love About Fantastic Beasts (Part 1)

“Mum’s here”

The mating dance

Pickett sticking his tongue out

The fancy knee length long coats

Dougal babysitting the Occamy

Newt and his eye contact (or lack of it)

The playful personality of the Erumpet

Frank the Thunderbird

Newt’s mischievous smile when he showed the Swooping Evil to Jacob

The Niffler putting his paws on the gold defiantly

Here Part 2

It’s finally here, part 2 of Here. Sorry it’s taken so long to get it up but I’m finally happy with it so hope you enjoy it, I x


The room erupted in applause and Harry, along with the rest of his table rose from their seats. Harry saw his sister wince as she stood out of the corner of his eye. He looked to her placing a gentle hand on her back to steady her, she smiled telling him she was fine before turning her smiling face to the stage and clapping her hands together with everyone else. She’d been moaning about her heels since stepping out from the car earlier that evening and although Harry had made fun of her for wearing them in the first place he did pity her slightly and he felt compelled to make sure she was ok.

Harry turned his own attention to the stage but was distracted by Louis. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, whooping loudly whilst everyone else simply clapped. Lottie turned her head sharply to him and pulled his hands from his mouth and shook her head.

‘Stop it you’ll embarrass her Lou.’ Harry couldn’t help but laugh as Lottie frowned at Louis, as if she was telling off a small child. Louis simply rolled his eyes at her before continuing to clap sensibly, over the top sensibly, whilst staring down at his younger sister. Lottie took her turn to roll her own big blue eyes at Louis before turning her head away from him and focusing her attention on those on the stage rather than her immature older brother.

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anonymous asked:

i'm searching for clothing that will allow me to forget i have a body; i'd be grateful for any recommendations you might have...

Buy a big, black knee-length coat that you can stand to wear in all weather. This is mine. The power of a big black coat is undeniable, and operates by very old vectors: the magic that the Derwydd knew – also Athanasius Kircher, and Kepler – very long, very straight lines, and 93° angles. Also, unlike other avenues into power, it makes exactly zero demands of you. I’m really not trying to be trite. This is as true as anything in my experience.

I made this tag for you (big black … coats) so you can see what I’ve already posted. I will share some more for you today. I think you probably understand already what you’re asking about is literally the singular topic of this blog. Garments for the long walk back home.

As always, if you need help finding something affordable, and in your size, you can ask me off anonymous, and I will respond privately.

Meet the New Boss Part 1

Supernatural AU! Dean Winchester has just taken over your office after Crowley was fired for embezzling, among other inappropriate actions. I tried to change his name to Dean Smith, and it just felt all wrong when I was writing it!

Warnings: None, unless you count being hit on by your creepy yet oddly attractive boss…? Swearing. Awkward sexual situation.

Word Count: 1614

Originally posted by f-uni

”Y/N, I need to see you in my office.” The smooth British voice of your boss floating through the office door makes you want to hurl. You glance at Meg, who gives you an apologetic smile. You smooth your pencil skirt and stride quickly into his office, heels clicking on the tiled floor.

“Yes, Fergus?”

“There you are. Took you long enough.” he holds out a 20 dollar bill. “Coffee, the biggest non fat soy latte you can get. And whatever you and Miss. Masters would like.” His mouth twists unpleasantly.

“Yes, no problem.” You turn on your heel to leave his office.

“Hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” He calls cheerfully at your retreating back. You suppress a shudder, ignoring your ass of a boss. You grab your knee length wool coat, asking Meg if she wants anything.

“Whatever you’re going to get is fine, thanks.” She keeps her eyes on her computer screen.  


“Thanks.” He takes the Starbucks cup from you without glancing your way. “Nothing else.”

You make to leave and he calls you back. “How would you feel about dinner tonight? Just us?” He grins smugly at you over the lid of the coffee cup.

You manage a polite smile. “That’s against company policy, Fergus.” In all reality you want to throw up your lunch all over his desk. Not that he wasn’t attractive, for an older man. He was just so cocky and inappropriate, treating you and Meg like you were objects there solely for his entertainment. You’d rather cut off your own tongue.

His jaw clenches at the mention of his first name. “How many times have I told you? Either Mr. Crowley, or sir, if you must!” He straightens his red silk tie, the only color in his entire ensemble, and stands up from his leather desk chair. “I say screw it! Let’s go howl at the moon!” He’s moved around the giant wooden desk, moving closer to you, and you involuntarily back up, your knees hitting a plush chair. You overcompensate for being off balance and end up on your ass in the chair, his hands pressing into the cushion on either side of your head. You rack your brain, trying to figure a way out of this, just about to settle for kicking him in the balls when Meg’s voice floats through the door.

“Mr. Crowley? Mr. Lafitte is here to see you.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, thanking whoever was upstairs and looking out for you as you jump from the chair. In your haste to get away from Fergus you run right smack into Mr. Lafitte, whose hands reach out to grab your shoulders, keeping you on your feet.

“Sorry darlin’, are you alright?” He drawls in a heavy southern accent, light blue eyes gazing into yours.

“Yes, thank you, I’m sorry,” You mutter, escaping from this office the only thing on your mind.

“Darlin’?” He calls after you, and you stifle a groan as you turn to look at him, putting on your best poker face. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to close the door?”

You nod silently, pulling the heavy door shut behind you and sitting back at your desk, trying to get your bearings.

“You ok?” Meg asks, clearly worried about you. You force a smile, keeping most of your attention on the blank spreadsheets in front of you. “I’ve never seen Mr. Lafitte in person. He’s kind of adorable.” She grins at you, only to get a stoic gaze back. She lets her smile slip and goes back to her computer.

An hour later you can suddenly hear Fergus shouting at the top of his lungs, although you can’t quite make out the words. You lock eyes with Meg, who’s eyebrows have nearly shot up into her hair. “What the hell is happening in there?”

“I don’t know, can you see anything?” Your view through the glass door only gives you a bookcase and part of the floor to ceiling window.

“No, just that goddamned bull statue of his.” She rolls her eyes. The door suddenly flies open, Mr. Lafitte emerging, straightening his dark grey tie.

“Ladies, I hope you both have a wonderful weekend, I’m sure your Monday will be more than pleasant.” He winks at you, your interest peaking at his cryptic words. You knew better than to ask. He gives Meg a wave before heading around the corner, where you hear the elevator ding.

“What was the president of the company doing here?” You turn shocked eyes to Meg.

“You got me, but oh my god!” She makes a show of fanning herself, making you giggle.

“Y/N!“ Fergus yells from inside the office. The anger in his voice makes you want to run to the elevator, but you make your feet move to stand in the doorway. “Call me a cab, and get Mr. Campbell on the phone.” He glances up at you, his face turning purple when he sees you’re still standing there. “NOW!“

His temper didn’t phase you; after nearly 7 years of dealing with him you were used to the mood swings. You were more focused on the fact that he was cleaning out his desk.

“Are you alright, Fer—sir?” You ask hesitantly.

DO I BLOODY LOOK ALRIGHT?” he roars, jabbing a finger in your direction. “GO NOW!”

You turn and run from the doorway back to your desk, where Meg has hunched down in her seat, trying to remain out of his sight. “Can you call the cab company for me?” you ask, dialing the line for Mr. Campbell’s law office. Before the first ring ends there’s a cheerful voice on the other end. “Mr. Campbell’s office, Jo speaking.”

“Hey, Jo. It’s Y/N. Is Mr. Campbell in?” You twirl the phone cord around your pointer finger, chewing your bottom lip nervously.

“Sure, just a second.” She puts you on hold, a song by the Foo Fighters drifting through the receiver. You’re only on hold for a few seconds when the phone picks up.

“Campbell.” The familiar voice washes over you, all business.

“Hi, Mr. Campbell. It’s Y/N. Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. And you can call me Sam.” Once he realizes who he’s talking to he becomes less formal, his business tone changing to a warm welcome. “What’s up?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Fergus says he needs to talk with you. Can I put you on hold?”

“No problem, Y/N.” His warm baritone caresses the syllables of your name, and you can hear the smile behind it.

“Thanks.” You put him on hold. “Mr. Campbell, line two!” You yell to Fergus and slam the receiver down, gears turning in your head.

“Samuel Campbell?” Meg’s jaw is basically on the floor. “THE Samuel Campbell. Attorney Samuel Campbell?”

“Yea, weird, huh?” You chew your bottom lip some more, trying to put all the puzzle pieces together. You knew once Fergus was gone, they would most likely get some other ass just like him in here by Monday. But you wanted to know why; it was literally burning you up from the inside out.


“Ready to go?” Meg has been watching the clock since 4:25.

“Yep, I think so,” you reply, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

Just before you reach the corner of the hall Fergus yells for you. “I need you to stay, I have a few things to go over.”

Meg asks if you want her to wait but you shake your head. “No, just go home, I know Cas just got back from his trip. Have a good night.”

She gives you a quick hug before stepping around the corner, and you wait until the elevator dings to trudge back into his office, tossing your coat and bag onto your desk. “Take a seat.” He demands, pointing to one of two matching chairs. Goosebumps break out over your skin, your palms feel clammy and your pulse has picked up.

“Y/N.” He smiles at you, your stomach flip flopping.

“Ferg-Sir?” You mentally cursed yourself as you correct your sentence.

“I guess we can start with where would you like to go to dinner?”

Your eyebrows raise. “The company-”

He cuts you off. “I know, the company, the company. Good thing I’m not associated with the company anymore.”

This was all the information you needed. You draw in a deep breath, pulling on all your courage to get you through this. “I think you misunderstood earlier. I do not want to go out with you, Fergus.“

He sets his jaw, the glint in his eyes making you uneasy.

“Look, it’s friday, I want to go home.” You move to stand and he pushes you back into the chair, an oomf leaving your lips.

“You think I haven’t seen the way you tease?”

“I think you’re mistaken,” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh, am I?” His tone turns deadly and dread grips your heart, your stomach filling with lead, anchoring you to the spot. “See, you’re going to give me what I want.”

“This is your last warning. Do not do this.” Your voice sounds a lot braver than you feel. He wasn’t a very big man, but he was bigger than you.

“Seems Mr. Lafitte isn’t here to rescue you this time.” He leans in closer and out of instinct you bring your foot up, connecting with the apex of his thighs. You take the chance while he’s on the floor and escape the office, not bothering with your coat until you’re in the elevator safely headed for the ground floor.  


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Day 6: “In Another Life” - Alternate Universe/Timeline

“I wanna buy Hanzo a ring dad. Will you come with me?” Jesse asked as they were standing in the doorway to the living room together. Jack glanced over at Jesse and smiled.

“We’ll go tomorrow. Pick me up from the courthouse at 5. We’ll find that perfect ring for him.” Jack replied before moving in to take the sleeping Hana from Gabriel’s arms. “Lena, bed. Now. You have school tomorrow.”

“But daaaad!!!”

“Lena listen to your Father.” Gabriel said as he settled into the couch.

“Yes papi.” she grumbled, turning her game system off and heading up after Jack who was putting Hana to bed. He sang softly to her, the same song he had the first night they had brought her into their home. It was a nightly ritual, and Hana refused to go down without it.

That night Jack recorded it while she slept, adding at the end all the wonderful things he wanted for her to do. That no matter what she would accomplish great things. As he dimmed the lights in her room, he moved over to Lena’s and knocked on the door. “Can I come in Lena?”

“Yeah sure thing dad.” she called back and he slipped in, sitting on the edge of her bed. She was already under the covers and curled up with the stuffed olympic mascot they had gotten her. “I know you’re struggling with math hun. But let’s make a deal. If you pass math with a C, we’ll get you something nice. But you have to really try Lena.”

“Okay daddy!!” she beamed up at him, sitting up to hug him tight. He held her back tightly. “I love you Lena.”

“Aww I love you too daddy.”

Jack got up and turned the lights out before he went back downstairs where Jesse was sitting talking to Gabriel, arm wrapped around Hanzo Shimada, the son of a wealthy business man. Jack moved over and sat on Gabriel’s lap. “How was your day my big tough police chief?”

“Long. Wish I could had lunch with you before the court time but I know you were busy.”

“I tried to make the time, but the surprise witness was…well…a surprise.” He said softly, leaning down to kiss his husband, getting kisses back just as softly. “Aww c'mon dads stop that. Hanzo isn’t used to pda like that. Though I’m slowly getting him used to it.” Jesse teased, nuzzling in against his very red soon to be fiance.

“It’s quite alright. I’m just glad you’re making room for me in your home.”

Gabriel smiled at Hanzo and nodded. “Just remember Hanzo. You make our boy cry and we will bury you under so much legislature your head will spin.” Jack laughed as Hanzo flushed and nodded again.

“We’re more then happy to have you here Hanzo. It’s good to see our son so happy.”

Visiting didn’t last long as both Gabriel and Jack had work in the morning. The day dawned grey and nasty looking. Jack caught a ride into town with Gabriel since Jesse was picking him up after work and honestly he enjoyed the quiet time in the morning before their days started. Jack leaned over and quickly kissed Gabriel’s cheek, before he grabbed his briefcase and headed for his day in the courthouse.

The day was relatively uneventful and the snow started to fall around noon, just a gentle fall. About five Jack was bundled up in his knee length coat and one of his husband’s beanies on his head to keep him warm while he waited for his son to show up with his truck. Climbing in, he directed Jesse towards a small personal owned jewelry store, and relaxed in his seat. The pair chatted about everything; the language barrier with their newest adoptee, Jesse’s dream of opening his own bar/pub, how things were between Jack and Gabe, how Jesse met Hanzo.

It warmed Jack’s heart to hear how much Jesse loved the Asian man and he reached out to ruffle Jesse’s hair. They walked through the jewelry store looking for what would catch their eye but nothing seemed right, until Jack found a black obsidian puzzle ring. He called Jesse over whose eyes went wide with a nod. “That’s the ring dad. It  suits him perfectly.” Jack smiled and hugged Jesse close, kissing his temple softly.

A pendant caught Jack’s eye and while Jesse was getting the ring for Hanzo he moved over to look at it. It was a pendant for St. Jude, the patron saint for Police Officers. Knowing how superstitious his husband was, he picked it up on it’s thick gold chain and saw space for it to be engraved on the back. He smirked and carried the piece over to the teller, telling him what he wanted on the back. St. Jude to protect you when I can’t. 6/18/2056

The date engraved was the date they had gotten married and Jack knew Gabriel would wear it every day. While they waited for the engraving to be finished, the snow started to swirl heavier and worse. Jack’s phone went off and he pulled it out, looking at the message from Gabriel. Please go home. It’s snowing pretty badly out there. I love you.

Jack glanced out the shop windows realizing how bad it was now. “Jess, change of plans. Once we’re done here, we’re going home. Check out that snow.” It was bordering on a blizzard and Jesse nodded.

“I got snow tires, but we’ll take it slow anyway.” Jesse replied as they took their packages and moved off towards the truck again. They were bundled up and put their seatbelts on, Jesse pulling the truck out slowly. He was careful as he drove, knuckles white against the steering wheel. But it didn’t matter as the truck slid over black ice and rolled over into the ditch. In the brief moment Jack saw the sign, he desperately hoped that Jesse was going to be okay.

His head hit the dash as the air bag exploded out to cushion him, glass cutting his face and deeply. Blissfully blacked out, Jack struggled to come around knowing he had to check on his son, he had to make sure Jesse was okay. He pulled out his phone, hissing as the movement jarred his body, and then hissed again when small pieces of his phone screen slid under his skin as he tried dial 911. He put the phone on speaker and told the dispatcher who he was and where they were. Blood flowed into his eyes and he told her what had happened to Jesse before he passed back out. He had done all he could.

When Gabriel got the dispatch that Jack had been in an accident with Jesse, he nearly tripped on a desk on his way out. The rest of the squad looked at him curiously, before Gabriel blurted out, “That’s my son and husband!! I need to go to them now.” Gabriel and Jack had agreed for the ease of their jobs they would keep their marriage a secret, and this was a secret that had been kept for nearly 25 years.

One of his Sergeants, the ever helpful Zaryanoa, nodded and moved with him. “Let me drive Chief, you’re not in any condition to drive. I’ll get you there without any issue. What hospital?” Gabriel rattled off the address and she led him down to her all terrain vehicle. He climbed in and they made it there without an issue.

Jack roused in operating room long enough to get panicked assurance that they had gotten Jesse too, before he slipped back into the black of his coma.

While Jack was in his coma, he was shown things by an angel. Scenarios that would happen for sure if Jack didn’t wake up. The first was of Gabriel, who started to drink heavily and blew through his and Jack’s retirement funds trying to try and fill the hole in his heart by adopting more kids. It didn’t work and he became just a drunken mess. The kids were no longer the well disciplined kids that ths Morrison-Reyes clan were known to be.

The second, was Jesse, who was unable to let his son do anything despite Hanzo’s trying to get him to let their son live a life. Jesse couldn’t let anything bad happen to his son, and became a controlling and strict parent, convincing himself it was out of love.

Third was Lena, running in the Olympics. Jack was sure this was a good one until the angel told him that Lena was addicted to sleeping pills, that she destroyed her body to become the best, and that even if she won gold, she couldn’t stop blaming herself. She couldn’t help believing that Jack had lied to her that he would always be there for her. That he wouldn’t die like her parents had. But she couldn’t outrun her demons and they would eventually take her.

Finally was Hana, his little korean child. The love of his life, and the apple of his eye. The child who called him mommy instead of daddy. She was older, curled up on her bed hugging a ragged pink bunny, crying while “You are my Sunshine” played softly. Her computer pinged constantly, her professional team demanding she come practice, that she distract herself, but she just listened to the song with Jack’s message at the end over and over again.

Jack turned to look at the angel and is visibly shaken. “That happens if I don’t wake up?”

“Yes Jack. It’s not your time to come to us yet. You’re family still needs you. Look.” the angel waved his hand showing Jack what was happening now. Gabriel was sitting in a chair his face pressed into th sheets of Jack’s hospital bed crying, begging and pleading with any god that would listen to bring his husband back. He promised he would cut back on the beer, he would eat healthier, never complain about the yard work again. Anything to have Jack back.

“Wake up Jack. He still needs you.”

Jack’s body felt like it had been run through a grinder and he gave a soft groan, hand gripping Gabriel’s as much as he could. “H-hey handsome. Come here often?”

Watch on

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you…. the Lovesexy tour. 

Notable moments for those who don’t have 2 full hours:

-1:00 - right off the bat we’ve got Sheila E and Cat in a three way with Prince for Erotic City after driving out onto stage in a ‘66 (67!) Thunderbird. Let’s talk about his hair for a second - WHAT IS GOING ON?? It’s like some French Colonial George Washington Jheri curl ponytail business? Would still hit it.


-8:20 - Slow love, where it is revealed there is a swingset and a basketball hoop on stage (y not)

-14:15 - Prince emerges from a costume change in his Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit - thigh high boots, white leggings, hot pants, hip chain carried over from Parade era, a vest, a white poofy sleeve button down shirt with SOUND written on one arm, a polka dot scarf/tie/don’t know what to call this, George Washington ponytail hair, and yep would still hit it.

-20:00 - Prince and Cat play basketball.

-21:24 - Head. HERE FOR THIS. Esp during Cat’s parts.

-31:18 - close up on some of my favorite Prince faces possibly ever.

-38:01 - a bed rises from the floor during Dirty Mind/Superfunkycalifragisexy/Controversy, somehow Prince manages to remove his vest to reveal another, sexier vest and SHOW US HOW IT IS DONE on that bed.

-40:40 - I don’t know what’s happening anymore because the stage went dark and now he’s got those crazy glasses on and a floor length satin embellished trench coat and has some voice distortion thing going on and then at one point his band holds him at gunpoint but with their guitars I think for murdering Cat?

-58:00 - ok the theatrics lasted quite some time but things seem to have calmed down for Eye No, another costume change into Prince pants with a knee length pale blue trench coat deal with too many details to even try to transcribe, which is then immediately removed (bless). Hair has been released from it’s old timey confines and is free flowing and lookin reeeeeeeeal good.

1:00:00 - much dancing, I can no longer tell which songs are which but Beautiful night is in there somewhere…

1:17:00 - KISS IN THE UNDER THE CHERRY MOON JACKET! I ain’t afraid of shit!

1:25:00 - Starfish and Coffee, Raspberry Beret, Condition of the Heart, Strange Relationship solo on the piano, with another costume change involving a peplum Mozart-esque coat. What can’t he do you guys. This is glorious.

1:37:01 - Insane guitar solo in Let’s Go Crazy, now he’s wearing a ruffly opera shirt but it’s tied up as a crop top.

1:38:15 - When Doves Cry. Yes, I can picture this. We’re almost two hours in and he’s somehow only gaining energy. Into 1999 around 1:41:09, Purple rain starts somewhere after that.

1:44:50 - Alphabet street!!! Somehow he acquired another shirt but did not leave the stage, where are these coming from? It’s the polka dot one from the beginning of the show. CAT, WE NEED YOU TO RAP!! Aaaand then we all pile in the Thunderbird and tip on out. May we all live 2 see the dawn!!!


There is always a second chance but only if you’re brave enough to take it. 

Repost because @kamiofdreams was nice enough to edit this for me 💜

Genre : Angst/ Slight fluff.

Word count : 5K+ ( Doctor AU ) 

Originally posted by eatjin

You sat, your mother’s arm around you in a comforting yet pitying hug, watching the doctor’s lips part then shut again, over and over, in a repetitive motion. Your ears  voluntarily blocked his words. He was telling you that you were going to die after all, what’s the point in listening to it one more time.

Y our eyes trailed off from the man’s distant and revolving face to the window. A bright, blue colored butterfly lurking outside catching your attention. You followed it with attentive eyes until it disappeared completely out of sight, forced to focus on his words when a quiet sob escaped your mother’s lips. Checking back into reality, you quietly observed the tension around you. Your father’s face deep into his hands not even daring to look up, his face seemed to  fell each time he heard it. The doctor shifted his gaze not knowing where to look, he probably has done this a lot, why is it still hard for him to tell you something that must be a routine? Small things like this kept your mind off the actual purpose of the appointment, your death.

“How much time do I have?” You interrupted his long speech, a speech you’ve grown tired of hearing, your voice low and calm almost torturing their ears as they wanted you to give more of an appropriate reaction.

“Excuse me?” He stuttered taken aback by your question.

“I’ll just re-phrase it, when do I die?” You repeated.

Your mother’s chest rose and fell back into a deep breath sobbing a muffled whisper of your name. The man hesitated for a moment his eyes wavering at your father, as if questioning whether to tell you or not, but not finding an answer, he still had his head tightly between his hands. He turned back to you, entangling his fingers.

“It’s an estimated  two months, with medication it could be more. With a transplant it could be even more but …” He paused, hesitating “surgery is also an option, but a very small one since the chances …”

Keep reading

Modern AU James/Lily 'we're both sick and we both reached for the last can of soup in the store'

ahh hello, this is the first time I’ve posted any of my writing on tumblr, so i hope you like it! It might not be amazing but if you did enjoy it then please feel free to like or reblog ^_^


         “Gah, Lily!” Lily bit her lip and looked guiltily at her friend from her nest of blankets on the sofa. Marlene sat next to her, her arms held up in shock as freshly spilt tea dripped down her top. She gingerly peeled it away from her skin and glared at Lily. “I swear to god I’m going to kill you!” Lily’s eyes were wide and she felt a grin creep onto her lips.

         “Don’t laugh” Marlene said warningly. “Laugh and I’ll pour the rest of the tea all over you” She held up the mug in threat.

         Lily tried to control her urge to burst out laughing and slowly held up her book so as to cover her face.

         “Not laughing” she said grinning from behind her book, in what she thought was a very sincere voice. She felt the sofa shift as Marlene stood up.

         “Three times this has happened now.” she muttered grumpily. “No wonder Sirius keeps saying I smell like tea.” Lily let out a snort of laughter before suddenly dropping her book and covering her mouth with both hands.

         “Lily!” Marlene swirled around with a fiery glare. Lily scrambled out of her sofa-nest and climbed stealthily over the arm rest as Marlene ran quickly after her.

         “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” She squealed, heading towards her room and slamming the door shut behind her. Her back was against the door and she winced in pain as the paracetamol she had taken earlier for her migraine began to wear off. There was a loud knock at her door as Marlene reached it.

         “Open up you useless excuse for a friend” she said. Lily opened it by a sliver to peak at Marlene on the other side. “Marls I need some more paracetamol” she whispered, trying to look as pathetic as possible. Marlene sighed and rested her hand on her hip.

         “Do you really have to go and pull the guilt trip on me?” She said, with a little smile.

          Lily shrugged clutching her head and traipsing past her towards the kitchen.

         “I think we’re all out of paracetamol Lils!” Called Marlene from the other room as Lily rummaged through the medicine box.

         “Could you get me some from the shop please?” She called back.

         “Yeah but I’m going out with sirius in a minute; we won’t be back until 11!” Lily sighed and shoved the box back into the cupboard with a little more force than was necessary. Marlene appeared in the doorway wearing a pretty pale blue dress and her knee length camel coat.

         “If you’re desperate you could just brave it and go to the corner shop.” She said. Lily groaned.

         “Yes but that involves going outside and I really don’t want to do that looking and feeling like this.” She gestured towards her current state of messy hair, fluffy pyjamas and a red-raw nose. Marlene rested her head on the door and laughed.

         “Sirius said that James has come down with a flu type cold too” she said lightly. “Funny how you both have the same illness isn’t it?” Lily narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips as her friend sent her the smallest of smirks. “oh!” She grabbed her tea-stained top from the counter.

         “Chuck this in the wash will you?” She threw the top to Lily who caught it just before it was about to hit her face and then disappeared again behind the door. Lily wandered across the kitchen and draped the top onto a chair piled with unwashed clothes.

         “Right, I’m off!” Marlene said as she came back into the kitchen where Lily was now searching for the soup.

         “Have fun” she said turning her head to acknowledge her friend who was now wrapping a scarf around her neck. She turned back to the cupboard that apparently didn’t seem to occupy anything of use. “I swear I bought some pumpkin soup last week” She added in an undertone.

         “You had that for lunch the other day” said Marlene. “See you later, Ginge.”

         “Bye!” Lily heard the door slam shut behind her and moaned loudly. She really didn’t want to go to the corner shop, but she could feel the pain slowly dragging it’s way through her head. This and her hunger, she thought stubbornly, would only be cured with soup.
Lily wandered down the isle of the corner shop idly. She wasn’t particularly paying attention to her surroundings; she only had eyes for the shelf on which her soup would be sitting. After a couple of minutes she saw it, her precious pumpkin soup. It was the last can on the shelf. Lily could’ve cried with joy… but she was in a public place full of normal people and normal people don’t tend to cry over soup. She leaned up on her toes to reach it before she was essentially rugby tackled to he floor by a blur of black hair and flailing limbs.

         “What the-”

         “Oh my god, Lily! I’m so sorry I didn’t realise it was you, you have your hood up and-”

         “James potter get off me right now or so help me.” Lily whispered angrily from the floor. James stumbled off her and offered her his hand to help her up. She took it reluctantly and brushed her self off huffily. She looked up at him which an icy glare and put her hands on her hips. “Please explain to me why you just tackled me to floor in a public shop?”

         James shifted his weight uncomfortably and his hand immediately shifted up to his hair. He looked as bad as Lily felt if she was honest with herself, but that didn’t stop her heart from beating double time at the mere sight of him.

         “Well” he began glancing at the shelf Lily had been reaching up to just moments before. “The soup” he said awkwardly pointing to the one can of pumpkin soup. Lily’s eyes widened.

         “If you think you’re going to get that soup then you are wrong on so many levels.”

         James folded his arms and looked down at her with his eyes narrowed. Lily mimicked his position and glared up at him, as if daring him to take the can. He glanced at it longingly and then frowned as he looked back at Lily.

         “I only like pumpkin-”

         “Me too” Lily cut across him with a challenging smirk. James’ lips twitched upwards too as if to say ‘challenge accepted’. He stepped forwards with a competitive spark in his eyes.

         “Okay, well I’m sick and I really-”

         “Me too, stop feeling sorry for yourself” Lily fired at him, putting her hands on her hips and forcibly standing her ground. James looked around as if trying to think of another comeback.

         “We’re all out of food in the flat.” He said clicking his fingers and pointing at her as he said it.

         “Well I got here before you came along and attacked me” said Lily swatting his pointed finger out of her face. “So you can wipe that smug look from your face, you know that can is rightfully mine”

         James hesitated. Lily thought she saw defeat flash across his face for less than a second before he suddenly lunged forwards and took the can from the shelf. She caught his smirk as he turned and began to run down the isle towards the cashier.

         “James Potter!” Lily shouted as she sprinted after him. He got held up by a couple in the bread isle so Lily took her chance and pounced onto his back. She took advantage of his brief moment of confusion and prised the can from his hand. He swivelled around and grabbed onto the can so that they were now awkwardly wrestling it from each other.

         “Give it to me potter!” Said Lily through clenched teeth as she tried to twist the can out of his hands.

         “Never.” He said in a strained voice as he attempted to pull it roughly towards him. His move didn’t bring about the desired effect however because Lily had essentially curled up around the can and just got pulled along with it.

         “I won’t let go, you know I won’t” said Lily in a muffled voice. She could feel James’ grip loosen but he didn’t let go.

         A surge of blinding pain suddenly flickered through Lily’s head. She let out a little yelp and scrunched up her eyes in pain. She was barely aware of the fact that she had let go of the can as she pressed the palms of her hands hard over her eyes, trying to pressure the pain away.

         “Lily?” Through the dizziness Lily felt a pair of gentle hands hold her steady and guide her into a standing position.

         “Paracetamol” she said letting one of her hands grab on to James’ arm as the throbbing in her head began to lessen slightly.

         “Is everything alright over here?” Said a woman’s voice to Lily’s left who Lily assumed was one of the shop assistants. Lily squinted at her and nodded.

         “She’s got a bad migraine I think” James said putting his arm around her waist. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of it” he assured the shop assistant.

         “I just need soup and paracetamol” muttered Lily, over coming the pain a little more.

         “How about we share the soup, and I’ll get you the paracetamol?” Said James throwing the can up in his hand as they walked forwards.

         “Sounds good” said Lily closing her eyes and resting her head on his arm.

"Lily, We’re back!“ The door to the apartment slammed shut as Sirius and Marlene began to hang up their coats and scarfs.

         "Do you hear something?” Muttered Sirius, holding his arm across Marlene to stop her from walking forwards. Marlene paused and listened. There was definitely a sound coming from the living room. She frowned when she recognised it.

         “It sounds like singing” She said. Sirius gasped dramatically and stepped forwards.

         “Singing? Stay here, this could be dangerous.” He said with a grin and Marlene rolled her eyes and laughed quietly. “If I die I want Mick jagger to sing at my funeral” he said, before quickly kissing her smiling lips and venturing through the doorway into the living room. Marlene put her hand on her hip and watched him go with a little chuckle. Her boyfriend was such a dork, she thought fondly.

         “Prongs!” She heard Sirius say in surprise. She rushed through to the living room and stood next to Sirius who had his arms folded. She looked at the sofa to see Lily under plenty of fluffy blankets with her legs resting comfortably on the lap of James potter. They each had a bowl of hot pumpkin soup in their hands and were looking innocently at Sirius.

         “Are you watching Dirty Dancing?” Asked Sirius in amusement.

         “It’s actually not bad Padfoot” replied James taking another spoonful of soup.

         “I told you you’d like it!” said Lily, gently shoving his arm with her foot. “You should really get Sirius to watch it” She said to Marlene brightly before turning back to the TV. Marlene raised her eyebrow. The couple carried on singing along with the film- or Lily sang whilst James kind of murmured vaguely to the tune, because apparently the only words he knew were 'hungry eyes’.

         “This is actually quite weird” remarked Marlene quietly to Sirius, who nodded slowly, a somewhat bewildered grin on his face.