what a treat right

anonymous asked:

so basically everyone in chat plays true or dare but this time pidge dares an unsuspecting Keith to kiss shiro. Shiro is embarrassed but says if it's just a game, but lance however isn't to thrilled and tells the chat he'll be right back and before Keith and shiro do kiss lance takes Keith and kisses him himself. Leaving everyone confused in chat till Keith tells them what happened. Shiro is a protective friend and tells lance to treat Keith right. Plus the kiss was only on cheek with shiro.

tell me this wouldn’t actually happen tho

tag urself i’m lance

Honestly? Jin and Jimin are /adults/. They’re not catty teenage girls going behind each others backs and insulting each other, this was a part of a /game/, where the point is to roast someone basically.

Obviously, no one is trying to say that the statement that Jin made was okay or not uncalled for in any way (it personally made me cringe, and yeah, I’d rather it not have been said). But to criticize those kinds of statements means you should criticize them when they’re being used against anyone, including the /countless/ times they were used against other members i.e. Jin.

Going back to the adult thing, Jin and Jimin work and live together, and have for almost 5+ years. All of the boys are very close, and if there is an issue, I am sure at this point they are mature enough to address it with one another and talk it out.

louis’ been standing up for 1d since the beginning. we didn’t hear about it until much later, but he was there, fighting for what he knew was right all along. he recognised they were being treated poorly and took countless hits for the team. it didn’t go over so well with the crusty white men in charge, but he didn’t ease up anyway. he had a large hand in bringing us the gems that are mitam and four that showcase their true talent. he’s the backbone and glue of the band and should never be taken for granted.

Hold Me

Originally posted by alphabetbet

Raphael x Reader

Hold Me

Prompt: Could you write a Raph one where his s/o is in a random mood for major cuddles and he gives in to her cravings for affection and practically showers her in it with lots of fluff??? Thanks! 😄😄😄

You stared at your phone for a few long moments. You needed cuddles. And you needed them now. You picked up your phone and pulled up Raph’s contact and punched in a text.

Hey.

Hey.

Can you come over? Pretty, pretty please?

Yeah, why?

I’m looooonely. And booooored. And…I really need someone to cuddle with.

Do ya think I’m some sorta personal teddy bear, shorty?

Pleeeeeaaaaaase?

The guys are gonna tease me.

Then don’t tell them.

Raph?

U there?

Idk if you’re worth gettin’ teased over…

Raaaaaaaaph.

Hush. I’m comin’. Give me a minute.

Yesssssss.

Dork.

You love it.

I know. Yer lucky I care.

I know.

You waited for the big buff turtle in red to show up at your window. He wasn’t your boyfriend, despite the feelings you hoped he shared. But God, you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Personally, Raphael hadn’t asked you out for one reason: he though he wasn’t good enough for you. You were pretty, smart, funny, and worst of all…you were human. A pretty, smart, funny human girl could have any guy on the face of the earth. Why would you want a mutant reject that lived in the sewers?

But nonetheless, he showed up at your window a few minutes later, heart pounding and extremely nervous for whatever was going to come next. Sure, the two of you had had movie nights, but you had never cuddled. Ever. He wasn’t even sure why you had asked him to come here to satisfy your craving for touch.

Three taps on the window signaled his arrival. You slid the window up and helped him clamber inside. He looked down at you in your cute little Deadpool onesie. And though he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t deny that you looked good in red. Really good.

“Well, you look cozy.” He smirked. You smiled.

“Picked out a movie for us.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Fantastic Four.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me?”

“Nope.”

“Yer kiddin’ me. Didn’t that bomb?”

“Yeah, but…” you blushed at the thought that ran through your head. “Nevermind. Just settle in. I’ll make the popcorn. Wanted it to be fresh.”

He watched you run off to the kitchen while he got settled in your bed. It creaked under his weight. God, sometimes he forgot how heavy he was. How huge he was. And then there was you, this delicate little flower that he was so scared he would break.

Every time he thought about you, his heart did a backflip. The mere inkling of you was enough to drive him crazy. The thought of your tiny little hands in his, your tiny little feet and all of your adorable human toes. And then came the thoughts of how your skin would feel against his, how soft and silky it must be compared to his rough scales and callouses.

He exhaled a sigh, mentally scolding himself. There was no reason to tease himself with something he couldn’t have.

“Comfy?” You asked, setting the popcorn on the table beside your bed, which was pushed up against the wall. Raph was hunkered into your mound of pillows, half laying down, half propped up.

“Y-yeah. Sure am.” He wanted to punch himself for stuttering. You smirked a little and hopped into the bed beside him, transitioning to a comfy position laying on top of him, head pressed against his plastron. And there, thump-thumping in his chest was his heart. You smiled as you listened to it hammer, faster and faster with each second you were there with him. “Am I doin’ this right?”

“Doing what right?”

“You know…cuddlin’. Or whatever.” He paused, exhaling a somewhat embarrassed breath. “I ain’t exactly a pro.”

“You’re doing fine.” You giggled. “Just…here.” You pulled one of his muscular arms around your back and snuggled deeper into his plastron. “Perfect.”

“All right. Good.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn with his free hand and you started the movie.

***

“So which of ‘em’s yer favorite?” he asked as the credits rolled. Your heart hammered. Here was the moment. The moment you were hoping he would set up. And now you could finally take the opportunity laid out before you.

“The Thing.” You replied casually. He let out a little breath of surprise.

“Why’s that?”

“Because…” You blushed as deep as Raph’s mask. “I like my guys big and strong and a little rough around the edges.” You shrugged. “But I mean, where would I ever find a guy like that?”

“Yer sayin’…” It took him a few seconds to put the pieces together. “Me. Ya…ya like me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“The reasons previously stated, and also: you might not admit it, but you, Raphael, are a huge softy and I love that.”

“I ain’t soft.”

“Look at us right now.”

“Point taken.”

“And your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Umm…”

“And you’re super buff and brave, and you’ve saved the world like twice and-”

“Why not Leo?” Raph’s words caused a sudden silence.

“What?”

“Leo’s all ‘uh those things. He could treat ya right.”

“Okay, but I don’t love Leo, Raph. I love you.”

“Y-you what?” Raph almost choked.

“I. Love. You.”

“I l-love you too.” He paused, mulling over the exchange that had just gone down. “So then are we…are ya my girlfriend?”

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then I think that answers that question, boyfriend.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. And then it hit you. That was the first kiss he had ever received. Ever. The blush that spread across his cheeks only confirmed your theory. You were not going to let this moment pass without taking it one baby step further. You pressed a soft hand against his rough face and turned it to face you. His eyes darted from your lips back to your eyes and he gulped, green eyes wide as you leaned closer to him.

Raphael decided in a single moment that your lips were the softest things on earth. They were also the sweetest things he had ever tasted, freshly coated in cherry lip gloss. Bright and red and now they were his to kiss whenever he wanted. This night had taken an unexpected turn indeed. But he couldn’t complain. He would never complain, so long as he had you.

“So uh…now what?” He asked after a long pause.

“Well…we could pop in another movie and cuddle some more, or we could go back to the lair and brag to your brothers.” You suggested. Raph smirked, imagining the look on Leo’s dumb face when he came home with a girlfriend.

“We’re goin’ to the lair.”

“That’s what I thought.”

things i wish i could tell my parents

you tell me that i should have an idea of what i want to do with my life, then crush my dreams when i finally figure it out.

you tell me that i should love myself, then insult me with everything you have when i screw up.

you tell me that i should be happy with my body and then tell me that i’m only “not hungry” because i’m trying to lose weight.

you tell me to love the way i look but try and get me to wear makeup and change the way i look.

you tell me to be accepting and love everyone but shun me when i have friends that aren’t the same race, gender, or sexuality as me.

you tell me to use my words but then call me weird for expressing myself with words on paper instead of verbally.

you tell my to speak up but you never listen.

you tell me to be patient when you have no idea how to be patient with your own children.

you tell me you don’t have favorites but then force me to stop doing my homework to cook while my brother who is failing all his classes wastes his life away on video games.

you tell me to make sure my brothers do the right thing but then turn a blind eye when they’re not.

you tell me that making money matters more than being happy with what i want to do when you’re not only broke, but unhappy.

you tell me that i’m only human, that i’m not perfect, and that i need to calm my “ego”, when you make me feel worthless for being human and making mistakes.

you tell me to lose weight even though i’m the only one in the family within the “healthy” weight range.

you tell me to smile but all i see is a frown mirrored on your face.

you tell me that anger is not good for me when you get angry over the simplest things, causing me to be angry as well.

you tell me that depression will get me locked up in a mental hospital but you do nothing to help me.

you tell me that you love me but you show it in ways that are abnormal. in ways that make me feel like i don’t belong.


i see all of these posts about how you should “love your parents” and “treat them right”, but what about posts for people with toxic parents and family? i do love my parents, i do. and when i’m rich and successful i’m going to be the one taking care of them. 

please, if you feel like your parents REFUSE to understand you (not that they don’t understand you) talk to someone. your voice deserves to be heard. and if it won’t be by your parents, let it be by someone who wants, who demands to hear your glorious voice.

This is about you.

Make purposeful effort toward all your goals and strive to be representative of your true self.
It’s important to put yourself first, this is your life. Plan time for yourself: exercise, pampering, alone time, etc. The better you feel about who you are and how to handle yourself, the better you are about handling everything else in your life.
I’ve found that scheduling myself to maximize my time especially now that I’m not in school is very self-endorsing. I’m making it happen. I’m enjoying the process.

Love yourself. No matter what, you’ll always have your own back.

anonymous asked:

what is it exactly that all the lawyers at airports are doing? i understand that theyre there for refugees/immigrants/those affected by trumps ban, but how can they help them in that moment at the airport?

Great question! 

What happens is that information has to get to the attorneys on the first level. We do that multiple ways: we have attorneys (like me) and translators who roam the international gates, asking if people have been waiting for 1.5-2+ hours for their family or friends. If they say yes, we know that that’s kind of at the sweet spot for someone who may be stuck in secondary inspections, or detained, and do our intake. Another way attorneys get the information is that their numbers have been circulated enough that people who are traveling or have family traveling call ahead and let the attorneys know when someone’s flight gets in, and other pertinent information. Also, we coordinate with other groups that are involved, such as CAIR and other immigrants’ rights groups, who get us info from people who have contacted them about either traveling or having family/friends travel into that airport, at what time, why they might be at risk, and so on. 

All of this information gets catalogued into a database (we’ve been using GoogleDocs because in the beginning, especially, it was such a loose operation of volunteers that we needed any system in place ASAP.

What happens then is that the attorneys work in different groups. On teh first level, you have to triage it. Some cases get priority: obviously, five children from Jordan on visitors’ visas who have been held for 6+ hours get priority over a single male from, say, Mexico, who has been held for 2 hours. These are judgment calls by the attorneys. It sucks, but not everyone can be first.

Other attorneys reach out to Customs and Border Patrol about certain people being held in secondary inspection or detainment. They get whatever information they can out of them, and keep the pressure on them to let them know attorneys are nearby and watching. 

A lot of it is fact-finding; pregnant women, for example, coming in on a visa may first be required by CBP to get checked out by a doctor. Attorneys have sources in place with nearby clinics and the like to be able to know when people are being taken there, and that way they can advise worried family members and sometimes even speak to the people directly. 

Some peopel are being detained. At a certain point, a right to counsel is triggered. For green card holders, for example, they have a right to due process. Someone traveling on a visa, not so much; they’re treated different as far as what their rights are and what attorneys can do for them. For green card holders, LPRs, US citizens, etc, attorneys get back there and give them advice: for example, don’t sign that I-407, dont’ sign that waiver, etc, etc. (An immigration attorney knows this part of it best; I am not an immigration attorneys so i cannot give advice about this.)

Part of it involves negotiations with CBP and other agencies, to get the person out. A big big part of it, though, is honestly just keeping the pressure up. It’s important, very important, that attorneys are staffed at national airports from 6am to midnight (which is the OHare schedule). Constant attorney presence, or near constant, tends to help law enforcement behave better. Not that they behave perfectly and follow the law 110% adn stop being jerks and racists, but they fear, rightfully so, they won’t be as easily able to get away with it. 

Other attorneys, when they know someone is being detained, write motions (injunctions, declaratory jdugments) or petitions for habeas corpus, which are meant to get a person who is being detained subject to immigration laws out of custody ASAP. These get taken directly to federal judges who then have to make a decision. In Boston it was reported that tonsof attorneys, mostly female, and many dressed in their Saturday night out on the town outfits, entered a federal court house at 10pm with motions and petitions for the duty judges. 

Attorneys also help coordinate the media push, which is very important because reporters on the ground are able to share stories quickly adn update as they go. Shaping the narrative is a huge part of any large scale national fight, and attorneys can be very skilled in that manner. For me, personally, I was trained that way by my boss. I know how to deal with the press, even though I hate it. Think themes, speak in soundbytes, answer hte question YOU want to be asked, not the question you were actually asked. Things like that. 

I have the pleasure of being friends with teh woman heading the operation at Dulles. Fantastic immigration and criminal defense attorney, and an Afghani Muslim woman. CBP at Dulles were the worst in the nation - they ignored the court order my friend was able to obtain (with the work of the attorneys that worked under her) that staed that they had to let attorneys back there to see the people being detained. 

She did get a brief chance to speak to people, though, eventually, and if there’s anything we attorneys are good at, it’s synopsizing complicated advice and rights and options into succinct orders people can follow. “If they try to drag you onto the plane out of this country,” I know she said to those being detained at Dulles, “you sit your ass down on the floor.” 

This is kind of a broad overview; I’m sure an  actual immigration attorney can flesh out the legal advice part better. I was not there as an immigration attorney; I was there as an attorney to insist. Working for a solo practitioner has taught me vertical representation, and how to do intakes adn gather all necessary info from a stressed and upset person. You’d be surprised, but a lot of attorneys that work for really big powerful law firms don’t know how to do this. At their firms, they know one small part of a case really really really well, but may not know much else. They may not even deal with clients directly. I did notice at ORD, for example, that most attorneys sat there and worked on their stuff, but no one was out gathering information. I think they thought people knew to come over to the McDonalds area? So me and my friend just walked back and forth for hours, doing intakes and getting that information over, which got that part of the process cemented so others coudl replace us as the shifts turned over. 

Attorneys fight this ban in many ways, on many fronts, and the ones at the airports are all volunteers. Immigration isn’t in my bag of tricks beyond the basics, but I can take directions, and I’m happy to work under attorneys who knwo more than I do (because when the tables are turned, other attorneys work under me and do what I tell them to do). We have certain skills, and the ones that are at the airports, we feel called to use them in a way that helps people instead of hurts them. (There are more than enough lawyers who hurt people, including the disgraces to the Bar that are part of this administration.) Hope that helps!

Selfish Iggy headcanons

so maybe a misleading title but I couldn’t think how else to word what I am going with.  While Ignis is quite possibly one of the least selfish human beings in the world I feel there are a few things that he does just to treat himself

  • His bed is big enough to house an entire family.  we are talking super king size. since what little time is spent in his apartment he is generally either eating or sleeping he figured he may as well enjoy those activities as much as he can. Gladio thought he was seeing things the first time he saw it.
  • Ebony coffee machine in the kitchen.  no more needs to be said about that. 
  • Mani/pedi’s.  it just makes sense since how he presents himself is so important for his job.  Plus they do an amazing foot massage with the manicure that can have a grown man melting in their chair which is amazing for relaxing after a hard week.
  • Bath bombs.  He tends to shower more over taking baths but when he does have one he does it properly
  • Comfy ass car.  While he is able to drive practically any car in the royal fleet he treated himself to his own car when he moved into his own apartment (self reliance and all that).  He got an audi a7 since a lot of the fleet were audi’s. plus if you’re going to drive you might as well be comfortable when you do it. its sound system is a+++.  it has heated seats for warm butts.  everything is better with a toasty butt.

I’m sure I have more in my mind that I have forgotten, we shall see

What happens when he actually treats you right, though? Will you both live happily ever after? Or will you push him away and not trust him? You’re so used to being stabbed by the ones that you love that now you’ve become the one who’s holding the knife.
—  Excerpt #104
Lose Your Keys, Find A Man

Originally posted by imaginesandmoreforfandom

Prompt: For the anon who sent in “Can you do a Derek Morgan x reader where she’s being harassing by some guy who won’t take a hint and he comes to her rescue?” 

A/N: Ah! I do love and miss my beautiful Derek Morgan so much! (Do I sound like Penelope yet lol? XD) This one is for the awesome anon who requested it and all the Morgan girls out there, not enough fics for him exist and I am happy to add to the collection. Enjoy :) Also, I’m still taking requests so if you want to hit up that asks box!

Note: (Y/N/N): your nickname

Word Count: 1.7 K

Rating: PG (maybe PG-13 if you really squint)


“Just one more drink she said, it’ll be fun she said! More like she’ll become a pain in the ass who can’t stand up,” you muttered as you dragged your friend Elizabeth out of the club with the help of your other friend Molly. The three of you had met your freshman year of college at Virginia Tech. Other than having one freshman english class, the three of you had polar opposite class and career tracks. You were a corporate lawyer, Molly was on the fast track to being a neurosurgeon, and Elizabeth was an aspiring painter. The three of you became inseparable and still shared an apartment, six years later. And it was times like this where you were glad you all had that kind of history else you might have killed the two of them by now. When you went out, you usually assumed the duty of being designated driver and “mom” of the night, while your two friends chose to drink ‘til they dropped, literally. 

“Look on the bright side, you can give her hell for this and shine a bright light in her eyes in the morning,” Elizabeth mumbled, stumbling slightly due to her drunk state and Molly’s extra weight on her shoulder. 

“Yeah right,” you snorted, “We both know that I’ll be handing out ibuprofen and coffee to you both in the morning and saying, ‘poor sweet baby’”. 

“True, but hey at least I’m not as much of a pain to handle,” she replied, as you hailed a cab. 

“Don’t even go there,” you said playfully bumping her shoulder. The passing cab came to hault and with you and Elizabeth’s combined efforts you managed to settle Molly inside. You reached in your purse for your wallet to ensure you could pay the fair and made a horrible discovery. “Shit, I think I dropped my keys,” you groaned.

“Just run inside and go find ‘em. We can wait.”

“No, it’s fine. I have no idea where I dropped them and this could take awhile. You need to get her home before she gets sick in the car.”

“Ok, just be careful. See you at home,” Elizabeth said. You closed the door of the cab and watched them drive off. You quickly walked back into the bar, not wanting to be outside for two long. You weren’t paranoid, just cautious. You’d heard too many horror stories women getting kidnapped outside of bars late at night. You quickly started scanning the room for a thick wad of keys as you walked back in. Not immediately catching sight of them, you trudged over to the bar. 

“Hey, Nick. Has anyone turned in a set of keys in the last ten minutes?” you asked the bartender, who you’d gotten to know since your friends loved this bar. 

“Afraid not (Y/N). Only things back here other than little old me are the drinks and a couple of notepads,” he replied cheekily. 

“Ha, well that was worth a shot. I’m going to go look over at the booth where we were sitting but if I can’t find them and they get turned in you’ll let me know right?”

“I’ll holler if they turn up.”

“Thanks,” you replied sadly, and dragged your feet over to the booth where you’d been stationed with your friends for the past three hours. You could kick yourself right now. All you wanted was to go home, but instead you were stuck at the bar looking for keys that you weren’ t even sure were there. You looked under the booth, then crawled in and stuck your hand down in the seats hoping maybe the keys had slid down in between. 

“Hello, pretty lady. Come back for more already?” some guy slurred as he stumbled toward you. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and immediately recognized him as the man who’d spent the majority of the night trying to pick you up. And in turn, you’d spent most of the night trying to get away from him and his awful breath that stank of alcohol, which signalled to you that he’d had way too much to drink. 

“Just trying to find my keys,” you replied, casually and kept sliding your hand around the seats. 

“Well, maybe I could help you with that,” he muttered, in as sultry of a voice as he could muster up and slid his hand up your thigh and onto your ass. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you growled and flipped around, after ripping his hand off you.

“Just trying to get a little play baby.”

“Well find someone who wants to play with you.”

“Aw c’mon, pretty lady. I seen the way you and your friends dance with anything that moves. I just want a little of that attention.”

“And as I have politely told you all night, I’m not interested,” you snapped, using your foot to push him back a few feet. The man glared intently at you and you instantly regretted that last move. 

“Now listen here you-”

“Hey buddy, the lady said no so why don’t you back off,” a voice said from behind the man as a hand landed on his shoulder. You flicked your eyes up to the owner of the voice and you savior. Tall, muscular, and handsome as hell. Honestly, he looked more like he belonged in a movie than here in real life rescuing you from some guy. 

“Why don’t you mind your own business buddy?” the drunk man sneered, shrugging the foreign hand off of his shoulder. Your hero (as you had labeled him in your head) stepped between you and the drunk.

“It is my business when men like you are harassing a woman. So why don’t you scram before I have the other FBI agents in the room book you for attempted assault and harassment?” he replied flashing a gun and credentials. The man took one last look at you over his shoulder before stumbling off toward the door. “Well, that takes care of that,” he muttered straightening up before turning to you and offering a hand to help you out of the booth. “You alright?” 

“Yes,” you replied, taking his hand and pulling yourself out of the booth to stand in front of him. “Thank you so much, I’ve been trying to shake that asshole all night.” 

“Sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“It’s ok. He wasn’t being that ballsy earlier.”

“Well, no woman deserves to be treated that way,” he said. “Didn’t I see you leaving with your friends a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, I put them in a cab to head back to our apartment once I realized I had dropped my keys somewhere in the bar earlier,” you told him as you did another scan of the bar. “I was trying to see if maybe they had slid down into the seat when the drunk bastard started creeping on me again.” You turned your eyes back to your companion and found him kneeling on the ground, pulling your keys out from under the booth. 

“These what you’re looking for?”

“Yes, thank you so much…”

“Sorry, manners slipped my mind. Derek Morgan,” he replied, handing you your keys. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), and given that you just essentially rescued me from some creep minutes ago I’m pretty sure your manners are fine,” you teased fiddling with your keys. 

“Like I said, it’s not right to treat ladies that way, especially one’s with smiles as pretty as yours,” he said, flashing a dazzling smile at you. You grinned at him and tucked your hair behind your ear. You were suddenly very aware that you were being watched. Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed a table full of people who were trying to nonchalantly watch the exchange going down between the two of you. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get going. I’ve got to drunks to take care of at home and I wouldn’t want to keep you from your friends any longer, but you might want to tell them to try being more discreet if they plan on watch people,” you chuckled. 

“I can walk you out if you want,” Derek suggested.

“You’ve been nice enough already, and the bartender is a friend so I’ll ask him to. It was nice to meet you, Derek,” you replied. 

“Nice to meet you too, (Y/N),” he said and sauntered off back to his friends. You sighed dreamily and walked up to the bar. 

“Success,” you declared, leaning on the bar, and dangled your keys for Nick to see. 

“Awesome, now I don’t have to scour the bar for those when I close,” he replied washing glasses. 

“Nick, would you mind walking me out to my cab? It’s kind of late,” you asked, slipping said keys back in your purse where they belonged. 

“Didn’t Derek offer to walk you out?”

“How did you know that? And second question, you know him?” 

“First, I’m a bartender I hear everything. I was about to step in for you earlier, but Derek was ordering a drink and said he would handle it. Second, I don’t know him per say, but the crowd of FBI agents over there are regulars,” Nick explained as he set the glass down and picked up another. “He’s a big hit with girls, but I don’t think he’s seeing anyone.”

“I know what you’re implying, and knock it off. He’s way out of my league,” you shot back. 

“C’mon, (Y/N/N). You, my friend, are a catch and he’s a great guy who knows how to treat a woman right.”

“What do you want me to do, Nick? Walk over there and drop my number on a napkin in front of him?”

“Or you can give it to him now since he’s walking over here,” Nick mumbled, suddenly very busy cleaning that glass. 

“(Y/N),” Derek said as he walked up beside you. 

“Hi again,” you replied. 

“Stop me if I’m being too forward, but I was wondering if I could maybe take you out to get a coffee?”

“Like right now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Derek nodded. “It’s almost one o’clock in the morning.”

“Well, I am a man who believes in living in the present,” he replied chuckling, “but I do see your point.” 

“You know what, I know a great diner that makes a mean cup of coffee and a fantastic milkshake,” you mentioned adjusting the strap on your purse. 

“Well, Miss (Y/L/N), let’s go,” he said grinning as he offered you his arm. You giggled as you took it. Who knew you’d find your knight in shining armor as a result of losing your keys under a booth? 


BONUS SCENE!

A/N: ok so when I was writing the first part it suddenly hit me what the conversation with the team would be like after Morgan saves the reader and goes back to the table, but I couldn’t figure out how to work it into the story so I’m including it as a bonus scene. Enjoy :)

“Nice to meet you too, (Y/N),” Derek muttered and strolled back over to the table the other BAU members were perched around, still thinking about (Y/N)’s beautiful eyes and smile. 

“So, is she prettier upon closer inspection?” Rossi teased as Morgan leaned against the table. 

“What are you talking about?” Morgan asked, snapping out of his stupor. 

“Derek, c’mon you are sitting which a group of profilers. Don’t think we haven’t noticed that you’ve been staring at her since we got here,” JJ replied, waggling her eyebrows at him. That was true, the team had arrived about an hour ago to continue their night of bar hopping and that was when Derek had noticed (Y/N). She had thrown the BAU’s resident player off of his game, big time. Instead of approaching and mingling, he’d decided to take the road of observing watching the way her smile lit up her face as she laughed with her friends and swung her hips. 

“We also agreed never to profile each other and I haven’t been staring,” Derek grumbled. 

“Right, so what’s her name?” Penelope asked leaning toward him. 

“(Y/N).”

“And I’m assuming you got her number, so when are you seeing her again?”

“I didn’t get her number,” he replied. A collective groan spread around the table, while Spencer smiled in the corner and extended his hand. 

“Told you, now fork it over all of you,” he said victoriously, taking a ten dollar bill from each member of the team. 

“What?”

“They bet that you’d have a date and her number by the time you walked back over here, and I noted the fact that you were ‘off your game’ as you would say, so I bet them you wouldn’t and I definitely won,” Reid explained, smiling smugly. 

 “Chocolate Thunder, bet aside I expect you to march back over there and score yourself a date else I hack her phone and call her for you,” Penelope threatened, poking his chest.

“I’ll show you who’s not off his game,” Derek grumbled, downing one of the shots that had been for the table before spinning and marching toward the bar where (Y/N) was chatting up the bartender. 

“Atta boy!” Prentis shouted.

“WHOO! GO CHOCOLATE THUNDER!” Penelope cheered.