the go compare man

You’re not going to be happy all the time. No one ever is. Sometimes you’re just going to sort of exist, and that’s okay.

Learn to be satisfied with “content” and “calm” and “not sad.” Not sad is good.

Not sad is great.

—  happiness is awesome, but the universe doesn’t revolve around a smile
9
Chogiwa (Part 1)

A/N: I can’t believe I actually wrote an actual smut based on Chanyeol’s trademark ‘Chogiwa’ but shit happens and here we are. This is going to be two-part smut, so here is the first part for you all! Also, this is dedicated to my fam/partner-in-crime/best tumblr friend @nunchiwrites (who is one of THE best writers I know out there!) as she’s been craving for some hot Wolf! Chanyeol ;) enjoy this baby of mine and remember to leave some feedback in the ask box too, you lovely people x (and look forward to Part 2 in the near future!)

Pairing(s): Chanyeol x Reader (with a hint of Kyungsoo)

Genre: Smut

Requested: Yes, by @nunchiwrites

Summary: Chanyeol marks you as his mate to protect you from another wolf and steamy stuff happens.

Word Count: 4145

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

For eighteen years, people have been warning you to not wander into the forest at night, especially when there’s a full moon. You’ve heard whispers about the ‘beasts’ that attack innocent people in the shadows of the woods and the rumours about ‘half human, half wolf’ mutants. You never really believed a word of it. Half human, half wolf? Seriously?

Scoffing to yourself in your mind, you merrily continue your stroll into the forest, enjoying the night breeze wafting through your hair. A quick upwards glance tells you that there’s a full moon out tonight, glowing brightly and illuminating the entire ink-black sky beautifully.

Smiling contentedly to yourself, you find your feet taking you further into the depths of the forest, increasing the distance between your form and the bustling life on the outskirts of the woods. An abrupt gust of wind chills you right down to your bones and you wrap your arms around yourself tightly, goosebumps breaking out on your bare skin. In all the years you’ve been wandering into the forest on your own at night, you’ve never grown accustomed to the chilly breezes that claws at your skin ruthlessly.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you do headcannons of kakashi and his baby boy like the ones you did for Shisui

Originally posted by makinakiwako

  • When Kakashi first met his son, all he could do was smile down at him and nothing else, just because he was so content with the moment. I can easily seeing Kakashi only having one child and putting everything into that one child, so this makes his baby’s birth so important. Though despite how important it is to him, he doesn’t panic; he had already had his small moments of doubt and panic earlier, like .3 seconds after his wife told him she was pregnant. And since he’s already had his moment, the only thing that really goes through his head as he holds his son for the first time is that this little one is a new beginning. He doesn’t know about the past, he doesn’t have to fight through wars, he doesn’t have to suffer like Kakashi has, and that really puts Kakashi at ease.
  • As he transitions into fatherhood, he becomes even more thankful for his own father and all that man did for him, because he honestly does not know how he could do it on his own like Sakumo did, and on top of that Kakashi knows that he was a little twat growing up, and how much harder he made things on others so he tries to make sure that his son isn’t like he was.
    • Though Kakashi’s son is honestly a such sweetheart deep down, so Kakashi doesn’t really have to worry about much. His baby has that laid back disposition like he does, and the more you get to know his son, you realize that he is a lowkey sweetheart that just likes to keep tabs on his mom and dad when they’re both in the house. He’ll crawl from room to room and check on each of them if they aren’t in the same room. Bless his baby heart.
  • Kakashi’s really relaxed about everything dealing with his son, especially since his son is such an easy baby.  Man, Kakashi seriously lucked out with this kid, because he barely even cries, but maybe that’s Kakashi’s reward for having the genin team from hell.
  • Speaking of his genin, Kakashi’s totally made them watch his son, calling it a “mission.”
    • Naruto scared Baby Hatake a little bit at first just because he’s so high energy and kinda loud that it caught Baby Hatake off guard, because he’s so used to having calm parents. Eventually he warmed up to Naruto, and they’re cool now; they’re bros.  
    • Baby Hatake has the biggest crush of Sakura; he absolutely loves her, it’s so adorable. Out of the three, he will always crawl over to her and cuddle with her, because she’s just so nice and calm compared to the other two, and she always smells good too. Baby Hatake + Sakura = <3
    • Sasuke’s not sure how he feels about this baby, and Baby Hatake isn’t to sure about Sasuke either. They just kind of stare at each other, but if Sasuke has to do something for the baby, then he will, but only because it’s Kakashi’s kid.  
  • Even though he is really lax about everything, fatherhood for Kakashi is such a wild ride some days, and half the time it isn’t even him who makes it so crazy, it’s his kid. In all honesty, his son is a really really good kid, but he just doesn’t follow along with what all of the parenting books or advice that Kakashi and his S/O have been given, so half of the time they’re just like ??? His baby is just so attentive that he’s not even like a baby half the time mentally. Like Kakashi’s obviously worked a lot with that awkward 11-18 age, but now he has a baby and everyone said that it would be easy compared to dealing with genin going through puberty, but man, sometimes he wishes he was back of the roof of the hospital stopping Naruto and Sasuke from killing each other than sitting in the middle of his living room trying to figure out what his 9 month old needs, because they keep looking at him like they need something, but they can’t talk and he’s been sitting there with him for almost two hours now and he’s so confused…
  • Kakashi has a really hard time knowing when his baby is sick, especially if it’s something not obvious like a cough or runny nose. Kakashi’s son is just such a little trooper and doesn’t really act sick or fussy when he’s not feeling well; he might be a bit more clingy or sleep a tad longer, but nothing too extreme. Kakashi just never knows; half the time it’s Sakura who’s like, “Do you know he has chronic ear infections? Cause he has one right now…?” Like Jesus, Kakashi, how many ear infections does it take for you to realize he’s sick?? Hokage can sense enemies miles away, but can’t sense his own son’s double ear infection…
  • Calls his baby so many names, especially “squirt” for some reason.
  • Fucking dad jokes… Because he would do that.
  • His baby’s such a low key cuddler, and he’s so sly about it. Like he’ll start out at the other side of the room and just slowly make his way over to Kakashi, but never act like he’s trying to get to his dad. Twenty minutes later, he’ll be right next to Kakashi and either lay little head in his lap or hold onto his dad’s arm. This will cause Kakashi to pull his baby into his lap or chest, and Baby Hatake just smiles, because his little plan has worked.
    • Kakashi gets such a kick outta this too. Like of course it’s his kid who has a whole plan of how to get him to cuddle with him.  
  • More of a toddler headcanon- but when his son was steady enough in walking, he started copying his dad and put his hands in his pockets when he walked and everyone’s like “Lordy, it’s like a teeny tiny Kakashi roaming around…”
  • Lastly, Kakashi has absolutely no issue with taking a person out if they dare pose any harm to his son. He’s already lost too many of the people he loves, so he has no issue at all destroying anyone who may hurt his child. His son’s his world, and Kakashi has one of the highest kill counts in the world, so don’t even try.
Oda’s Eurovision Rundown

Just some notes on a few of the more notable acts: 

1) Austria: Sponsored by Dreamworks.  

2) Moldova: Tom Felton!?

3) Spain: Does Milton Jones know he has a son? 

4) Italy: Not pictured; backing and choreography by The Wiggles. 

5) Portugal: Bluebirds do this man’s housework for him. 

6) This guy: “There’s just something about his smile…” “like if you were told the police had found a body in his fridge, you’d believe them?” 

Eurovision 2017. Also featuring: the go-compare man, OK-Go in Robin Thicke suits, FRANCE, Is That Another Hanson Brother?, Princess Serenity, Jury People with Cold Left Arms and a Stray Ozzie Bum. 

10

“John and I have been best friends since we were kids. He moved out of state in high school, so we don’t see each other that often. I love this guy.”

/Before anyone asks: John is asexual in this AU, so yes, they share a bed, but it’s totally platonic.

For donttouchmyprincessparts - Here’s my attempt to try to get you to make a trip to Texas someday.;)

(-inhales- BOI (asoue spoilers in the tags))

Time flows
Nobody knows
The years go by
Where we go 
Alone from here

Night falls
Strange-colored walls
My eyes deceive
What is wrong
With me?

Deep in the night you think everything’s right
Tell it to yourself. Say it’s just a nightmare
Something is telling you nothing can change where you are 
Again

Why should it matter, your dreams of a child?
Innocence is gone. Only fear to play with
Faces are changing, but nothing is changing the pain
Too late

Acceptance

That’s two Eddies, just in case//

Forever Yours

Request - Don’t mean to bother you, but could you wrote another smutty Sam x reader?? Love your writing by the way x

Warnings Swearin, SMUT, let’s be honest you know me by now…if there’s a story there’s probably going to be smut. 

Hope you enjoy Anon


You walk toward the boys room after you’d showered and dried your hair. It had been a long hunt and you all needed some time to relax. You’d put on a short denim skirt and tank ready to go out, hoping showing a bit of skin and reminding Sam you were a girl not just a hunter would make him see you in a different light. 

As you approach the door to see Dean stepping out swinging his keys on his fingers. He lets out a whistle when he sees you

“Hey Y/n, you look hot! I’m heading out. Don’t wait up” he winked at you. You roll your eyes in reply.

“Where’s Sam?” You ask

“Oh he ran out to get food, you know rabbit food crap. I was going to come and tell you before I left. He said for you to wait for him inside, he wanted to talk to you about something” he said as he turned away. 

“Ok then….” you open the door, and sit on the chair in the corner picking up the tv remote, flicking on the tv and wait for Sam to return. 

You hear a noise that must have been from next door making you up the volume on the television.  You hated these cheap motels and their thin walls.

Suddenly you hear the bathroom door open, your head snaps towards the door, to see a very wet, very naked Sam Winchester walk into the room. 

“Y/n!” He shouts grabbing a pillow to cover himself

“Oh my god Sam! I am so sorry!” You blush like crazy, as you jump from the chair and turn your back. Almost tripping over a bag at your feet as you do so. 

You don’t deny you’ve always dreamed of seeing Sam like this, you’d been on love with him for a long as you can remember. But you’d hoped, well dreamed it would be when you were undressing him, and boy had you dreamed about it. Those dreams had led to many a steamy shower.

“What are you doing here?” He asks,  his voice low

“D…Dean said you were out getting food and to wait in here as you wanted to talk to me about something” you stammer out at great speed.

You were mortified, why had Dean lied to you? Yes he knew how you felt but would he really set you up like this? Who were you kidding of course he would….

You heard Sam growl behind you, snapping you from your thoughts

“Look I’ll just go…” you offered moving towards the door.

“No! Wait, just give me a second…” you hear him walk back into the bathroom and return

“Ok you can turn around now” you take a breath before doing as he said

Well he wasn’t totally naked anymore, he now had a towel wrapped around his hips. Very low around his hips. You couldn’t take your eyes away, droplets of water dripping from his hair. Running down his perfect muscular chest, over his toned abs and down to his chiselled v-line.  His muscles twitching under your gaze. 

You unconsciously licked your lips, finally tearing your eyes away. You take a great sudden interest in the floral wallpaper, as you clear your throat. 

“Listen this is really embarrassing and I promise I will kill your brother for it. So I’m just gonna go, before I embarrass myself further” you say your eyes only taking a quick glance at him.

“Just let me get changed, and we can talk” he suggests, well its more of a command,  but you make no move to argue, nodding in agreement. 

He walks towards you, his damp skin glistening under the motel light. You freeze in place, unable to take your eyes off his.

*have his eyes always been that dark?*

He stops in front of you, you cock an eyebrow at him

“Your standing in front of my bag” he smiles

You apologise,  stepping sideways to give him room. He doesn’t grab the whole thing, instead he kneels down opening it there rifling through it. He was unknowingly giving you a perfect view of his bare back.  Muscles flexing as he moved. It took you all your strength not to reach down and touch it. 

He slowly stood up, looking up at you as he rose until he was towering over you again.

You try to look down to keep yourself from staring but the pull is too much. You let your eyes slowly trail over him from the floor up his body. You notice he’s clenching his clothes in his hand, his knuckles turning white. You snap your eyes to his to see his breathing heavily. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips,  and that seems to be the final nail in the coffin. 

He drops his clothes to the floor, rushes the remaining distance to you, dives his hand into your hair pulling your lips to his.  Forcing his tongue into your mouth making you whimper.  

*Who knew Sam had such a dominant side* 

He pushes you back against the wall, his other hand finding your hip gripping tightly. You bring your hands from your sides, sliding them slowly upward, over his abs to his chest, before leaving one there over his heart and throwing the other into his hair. 

He rips his mouth from yours as you lightly pull on the hair at the back of his neck. He drops both hands past your hips, over the smooth skin of your legs, you swear you hear him growl.  Next thing you know his hoisting you from the floor, bringing your hips flush with his, wrapping your legs around him and pushing you back against the wall.

You gasp as you feel his hardness beneath the towel. He runs his hands up your bare thighs bunching your skirt as high as it will go.

“These damn skirts, you have no idea what they do to me” he said his voice harsh and almost predatory

“I didn’t think you even noticed” you whisper, overwhelmed by the rush of new information

“Oh I noticed” he answered placing a light kiss on your lips that made your head spin. 

“I also noticed the looks you’ve been getting at bars, the drink you’ve been bought.” He growled out 

“Took me all my will power not to throw you on a table and fuck you senseless, to show them that you’re mine!” He added sinfully, and you almost came right there. 

Sam Winchester had basically just claimed you.  He rolled his hips into you, and you cry out at the friction. He smiled wickedly at you as he slid his hand over your throbbing mound.  

“Sam! Please!” You beg, as he teases you over the black lace of your panties. You shoves the material aside finally touching your dripping centre. 

“Fuck Y/n, you want me that bad too baby?” You can’t find your voice but you nod frantically

He pushes his hard cock against you again. Making you whimper

“You feel that baby? Feel how hard you make me?“ 

Sam swiftly thrust a finger into you, you scream throwing back your head,

“Look at me Y/N,  eyes on me baby” it takes all your strength to keep your eyes from closing in bliss.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna fit my like a glove baby” he pants, flicking his thumb over your clit sending you flying over the edge. 

You come down from your high feeling him drawing slow circles on clit. 

“You look so fucking sexy” he grab his head pulling him roughly to you kissing him hard. He pulls you from the wall, and dropping you on the bed.

You pull off your tank and bra as Sam relives you of your skirt and panties. Lying completely naked before him you feel a rush of self consciousness, you go to cross your arms over your chest but he stops you

“Don’t,  you’re perfect” he leans forward kissing you tenderly. The he moves to your neck, kissing the delicate skin.  You run your nails down his broad shoulder, causing him to nip the skin smiling as he does so. He bites and laps as he leaves his mark on you. 

“Mine!” He snarls against your neck.

You smile turning and licking the shell of his ear, before biting lightly “yours, always have been yours Sammy" 

He looks down at you, looking for any lies in your words but he finds none. He takes a shaky breath

"I love you Y/n” you smile and reply instantly

“I love you too” he kisses intensely,  you feel the towel being pulled away. He pulls back to push your knees apart. You finally get a good look at him in all his glory. He’s so much bigger than you thought he would be and you’d imagined pretty big, and bought toys to match, but they weren’t going to  compare to the man himself.

He grabs his length pumping a few times before pushing forward, he looks at you, giving you one last chance to stop. You answer him by pushing your hips forward burying the tip of him inside of you. You both groan at the feeling. 

“Fuck y/n” He groans pushing forward slowly,  feeling your every inner muscle clench around him. He hisses when he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you.  He drops his head to yours.

You look up at him hungrily,  you needed him to move.  You dreamt about this for years and now it was here you couldn’t wait any longer. 

You pull your left leg higher causing him to curse as he slides deeper into you. His eyes turn almost black with lust as he understands what you want. He takes your leg hooking it over his shoulder as he begins to pound into you, hard.

His strong arms holding him above you as his hips move at an amazing speed. You’re writhing beneath him like a bitch in heat. You moved together in perfect rhythm,  his pelvic bone grazing your clit.  You ran your hands down his body. Your nails teasing him as they ran over his abs and that damn v-line that drove you insane.

“Sam, oh fuck,  feels so good” the praise seems to make him speed up, you didn’t think it was possible. You chant incoherent words as your brain goes blank of anything other than Sam Winchester.  

He looks down at you, seeing you beneath him, his mark on your neck,  his cock buried deep inside of you, his name falling for your lips was driving him crazy. But in a very good way. He could feel you start to tighten around him, bringing about his own building orgasm. 

“Sam, baby I’m so close” you mewl gripping his shoulders. 

“Let go baby, come for me” he grunts, as he feels you tighten even further at his words. 

“SAM!” You cry out in ecstasy, pulling him into heaven with you as he slams into you. Your sight goes white, the last thing you saw was the look of love in Sam’s eyes. 

He rode out his high as he waits for you to come back down,  his eyes never leaving you. “Mine” his grins as he kisses the valley between your breasts. You reach up stroking his hair, signalling you’d come back down to earth. 

“Yours” you smile as he collapses on top of you. “Forever yours”

Zayn: I suffered from an eating disorder, wasn’t allowed to talk about my dad bc of his faith, I have anxiety, I don’t wanna go back to 1D it was too controlling

1D stans: you’re so ungrateful

Harry: management was controlling there was a lot of things we weren’t allowed to talk about

1D stans: amazing he’s so amazing

Set and Curtain

Bucky had been working on this show for weeks. He had finally landed a principal role. This was their first rehearsal on stage and there was quite a lot going on compared to studio rehearsals. Including, it seemed, a large, blond man in one corner of the audience seats with a large sketch pad on his knee. When they had come in that morning, Bucky had dismissed him as a theatre employee, but he had been there the entire practice. And now that they were stretching in preparation to leave, he was still there.

British Year 8-11 Starter Pack Slang

This is a list I created while listening to what Year 8-11′s say in daily conversations at my school.

-Bantersaurous Rex
-Cheeky Nandos
-Fam
-Init Bruv
-Shank Me
-I’ll fuck your nan
-I swear on me nans life
-Lads
-Maccas
-Maccy D’s
-Funk you up
-Bare Cash
-Cray
-Dench
-Archbishop of Banterbury
-Barackobanter
-Banterclaus
-Bantanddec
-Top notch 
-U wot m8?
-Absolute wanker will fight you 1v1
-Absolute ledge
-Oi Posh twat
-WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
-On the lash
-Proper lad
-Chinos
-Chip butty
-Choc ice
-Trackies
-Your mate Steve
-Alright lads
-Laddy laddy lad lad
-Knobhead
-Absolute wanker
-Watching Jeremy Kyle
-Quoting The Inbetweeners
-Ice Gem Hair
-The go compare man
-*churchill voice* ohhhhh yes
-#Sick bants
-SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK
-Jezza Kyle
-There’s only one way to find out….fight!
-Mint!
-Spot on lads.
-Ladpoints
-Oi fuck off tories
 
I’ll add some more next week

Things Only British People Will Understand:

• This is not just ______, this is M&S _______
• The Go Compare Man
• Alexander Meerkat (“Simples” *squeak*)
• There’s only one way to find out… FIGHT!
• Dick and Dom in Da Bungalow
• Four candles
• BOGIES!
• In for a penny…(you finish it)
• “He’s fallen in the water!” (REALLY obscure)
• Get outa my pub!
• The REAL Dennis the Menace (not the blonde wimp)
• Tracy Beaker (and the nasty Justine Littlewood)
• CBBC Presenters (Ed and Oucho anyone? Barney and Nev?)
• “And here’s one I made earlier…”

Observations

Requested: ReidxReader where they go on a horrible date and he just does everything wrong. He later apologizes and asks for a second chance.


Penelope assures her it will be good. And after all, Penelope has never steered her wrong before. Whether it’s fashion advice or love advice, when she speaks, Y/N has learned to listen. So when her brightly-dressed best friend insists she’s found the perfect guy to set her up on a date with, saying yes is the only logical response.

He’s a co-worker of Penelope’s. “He’s sweet,” she says. “Very smart, a bit on the shy side, but he’s got a good heart.”

Which sounds promising enough.

Until she is sitting at a restaurant alone, checking her watch and wondering if he forgot. The waiter circles back glances at the empty seat across from her – with sympathy – and she starts to worry that he’s standing her up on purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time a date ended poorly. Relationships haven’t been smooth sailing for her in the past.

She takes a few deep breaths and fixes her eyes on the door, watching people come in and out and hoping that one will be her mystery man. They were supposed to meet at 6:45. An older couple, a group of eight teenagers, a family of five, and two women all pass through the doors of the restaurant and are seated at a table that isn’t hers before three people come in at 7:19 to be seated. After a brief word with the hostess, they walk towards the tables, and she sighs, disappointed. Until one of them breaks off from the group and approaches.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” When he speaks his voice shakes just a little, and fidgets with his hands. Oh. So he’s not part of the other group at all. He’s here to meet her.

“I am. Y/N Y/L/N. You must be Spencer.” Just as she raises her hand, she remembers what Penelope told her. This man doesn’t shake hands. It’s a germ thing. So she quickly puts her hand back on the table, hoping he didn’t notice.

He looks relieved at the gesture. “Reid,” he says. “Dr. Spencer Reid. But, uh, you don’t have to call me doctor. I – I mean, you can just call me Spencer. Um, I mean… I’m really not used to this. I’m sorry. Yes. I’m Spencer. And I’m so sorry I’m so late. There was a case. I work for the FBI.”

“I know. Penny told me. You’re here now. Don’t worry about it.” Spencer smiles, but the anxiousness doesn’t fade from his face. “Would you like to sit?”

He does so gratefully. This must be that shyness Penelope mentioned. Though, she must admit, he’s rather handsome. Brown eyes, hair that’s a bit on the messy side, very tall. And those cheekbones.

“So, um, what do you do? For work?” he asks.

“Well, I studied at anthropology, but right now I work at the Museum of Natural History. I’m a curator.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows. Surprised. “That seems an odd career path. Wouldn’t you rather be involved in research or field work?”

The words carry a sting. It’s obvious of course that she would. But times are tough for humanities majors. Jobs are few and far between, and she’s lucky to find people who think first of the academic discipline and not of the extremely overpriced clothing store upon hearing the word “anthropology.”

“Yes, I very much would. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy to find an open position.”

The color on his cheeks nearly matches the shade on her lips. Observation is a particular skill of hers, and she can tell he’s beyond nervous. Folding and unfolding his hands, licking his lips – admittedly, she finds that a bit distracting – and stuttering as he tries to repair the conversation.

Spencer asks her about school, and they swap stories of college and grad school. He really is brilliant, with three doctorates to his name. They cover the basic topics; they both like their jobs, he’s fond of his coworkers while hers can be difficult, they both are coffee addicts, and he’s the only person she’s met who has read more books than her.

However, the discussion occasionally halts when he responds in a negative manner.

When he mentions Sherlock Holmes she says, “I’ve read every book there is. I was a little obsessed with them in high school. I was disappointed when I finished, but luckily there are a number of adaptations to fill that spot in my heart. BBC’s Sherlock is my favorite at the moment.”

And he replies, “I find that none of the adaptations measure up to the original. I don’t know why anyone bothers with the films and TV shows when there are other books to read.”

“It’s a good way to relax,” she counters. “Watching something familiar.”

“On the average day, Americans spend two hours and forty-seven minutes watching television. If we maximized productivity by using that time for more important things, imagine what we could collectively accomplish.”

It’s just a comment, another one of the statistics he rattles off from time to time, but for some reason it feels like a direct jab at her. So he doesn’t watch television and he thinks Sherlock isn’t very good. That doesn’t mean she isn’t allowed to like those things. It doesn’t make him superior. Suddenly she’s feeling very defensive. Who is he to question her? He doesn’t know her. Profilers don’t have authority on every stranger they meet.

An hour in and she’s still waiting for that “good heart” Penelope mentioned to shine through. In brief flashes he appears genuinely interested and kind, but overwhelmingly the score is not in his favor. Between inappropriate remarks, uncomfortable silences, it’s not going well. He seems aware of this fact, for his nervous habits only become more frequent. In the middle of explaining what drew him to the FBI, he gestures wildly, and knocks his drink off the table. Water spills onto the floor, and the glass shatters into tiny pieces, scattered across the wood floor. A waiter comes to clean it up, and Spencer flushes scarlet, apologizing profusely.

Hoping to distract him with something simple, she says, “The dessert menu looks nice.” Which isn’t a lie. It’s enticing, far more so than this date, which is saying something.

Spencer looks it over, and smiles. A smile looks nice on him, even a small one. “It does. You know, I’ve never been on a date where we stay for dessert.” Pitiful is the first word that comes to mind. Does that imply a lack of experience? Or simply a lack in tact and etiquette? “I think that’s my fault. I’d like to at some point, though. Stay for dessert, that is.”

“How long has it been since you went on a date?” she asks, figuring it’s best to just be direct with this man. In an unexpected response, he looks down, and she thinks she sees sadness in his eyes.

When he looks up, he says, “Unless you count an awkward meeting for coffee, it’s been two years, seven months, and nine days. It didn’t go as planned – in fact, my date didn’t even make it to dinner.”

“She stood you up?” If it was a bad experience, perhaps this explains his nerves.

“N-no. Not exactly. My girlfriend, she, uh, she was being stalked and I thought I saw her stalker in the restaurant… She was killed a month later. In front of me.” There is a rigidness in his voice. The words are rehearsed, meant to be said in a forced casual tone, as though in some way he could make them feel lighter. It doesn’t work. They hit her like the weight of the world. Even one small fact has thrown at her the burden of his baggage. This man has a past, an unbearably heavy one.

This date has taken a turn for the uncomfortable. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She was very different from you.”

Anthropologists are by definition, observers. What she observes is that this date is going very poorly. Being compared to the dead girlfriend of a man with very little social skills? It’s a disaster. Which means it is time to flee the scene.

“Look, Spencer, I’m really sorry to do this, but I don’t think this is going to work out. Penny spoke very highly of you, but clearly we’re not compatible.” Digging through her bag, she scrounges up twenty-five dollars and sets it on the table. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you find someone who can stay for dessert someday. Bye.”

With that she grabs her things, and walks out of the restaurant without looking back. Her luck with relationships is apparently unlikely to change. Some things are constant in this world. In that, she can take comfort at least. She knows Penelope will be disappointed, but even the self-declared Queen of Matchmaking misses the mark sometimes. In her heart of hearts, she’s the slightest bit disappointed as well. After the nightmare that was her last relationship, she’d had really been hoping to find someone nice.

Spencer was probably nice, under the right circumstances. Smart and sweet, as promised. Far more awkward than anticipated. And judgmental. And not to mention, carrying baggage and grief that was too heavy to introduce on a first date. A murdered girlfriend? That’s something she isn’t prepared to deal with. It’s best to leave it alone. Forget about him, and his bright eyes and lanky limbs.

The single life isn’t that bad, she ells herself. It was cheaper and quieter. It gave her more time to work and to read. To utilize those two hours and forty-seven minutes in a more productive manner. Who even knew things like that?

After careful consideration over a glass of wine, she resigns herself to a life of spinster-dom and cats, living happily among her little library of books and British television shows.

Until that Monday, on her lunch break. Break time is her opportunity to spend time in her own little sanctuary, a tiny set of stairs tucked away on the side of building. Trees grow around it, sheltering it from most of the public eye. Weather permitting, she always takes her breaks out here, with a paper bag lunch and a book. It’s the perfect place to be alone.

Except she finds she isn’t.

Spencer Reid is sitting there. Either the universe is intent on creating cruel coincidences, or he’s there for her.

“Y/N,” he says. “I was looking for you. Garcia said I could find you here.” The latter it is. He is there to see her.

“Sorry, can I help you with something?” She doesn’t mean to sound callous, but it does come out that way. The last thing she wants on her break time is to relive a bad date.

Spencer stands, putting his hands in his pockets. The anxiousness he carries today is a different kind. Less jumpy. “I’d like to apologize for our date on Friday; and I was hoping for the opportunity to explain myself. If you’ll let me, that is.”

Y/N crosses her arms, holding tight to her paper sack. “Okay.”

For a second he looks startled, as though he hadn’t actually expected her to agree to his request. The doctor quickly composes himself. “I was nervous. Really nervous.” That much she knows. “The case we were on was a tough one, and it didn’t end well. I was already stressed when I met you, and I’d been even more nervous because Garcia had so many good things to say about you. Even before I met you, you seemed incredible.”

This Spencer Reid is eloquent, precise. She’s intrigued.

“I struggle with social cues to begin with. I’ve always been different, and when you’re a child prodigy you don’t really learn how to interact with people very well. I can’t read social situations the way most people can, and after the case I was tired and I was anxious and for me that’s not a combination. Then I saw you, and you were even more beautiful than Garcia told me. You have the most lovely smile. I know I messed up. I know I shouldn’t have said most of what I did say, and I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to. And as for Maeve – for my previous girlfriend, I shouldn’t have brought it up on a first date. That’s something heavy, and I shouldn’t have put that weight on you so suddenly.”

Definitely more eloquent. His candor makes her blush. No one has ever been this straightforward with her, and the fact that he’s come all this way to the museum just for her is a wonderful gesture. Still…

“It’s okay, I get it. You’re still mourning her.” If he is in love with a ghost, there is nothing she can do. Time and space are the only ways to heal from a wound that deep. A broken heart is something she cannot remedy.

“Yes, but that’s not what I came here to say. I know that I made you uncomfortable by saying that you were different from Maeve. I didn’t mean it as a comparison or as an insult. Just as an observation. You were present, and real, and so passionate about everything you said. You were… you are alive. And I don’t mean that you’re living, but rather that your persona – your spirit – it’s bright. Alive. I like that. I – I like you. I know that I ruined that date, and I understand if you don’t want me to see you again, but I’d really like the chance to make it up to you.”

Her grip on the paper sack tightens. “Are you asking me out?”

Spencer swallows hard, but manages to nod. “I am. I’m asking for a second chance at a first date. Only if you want to though.”

Observe. That’s what she does best. Notice people and the stories they tell. Before her is a man who has asked her best friend where to find her, and come all the way to apologize for any unintended offense and to offer to make it up to her. It is sweet. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t a little moving. Dinner was a disaster last time, but maybe the stars just weren’t aligned for them that night. First dates rarely go as smoothly as they do in books and in movies.

He has a broken heart. But he’s offering it to her.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay?” The bewilderment in his expression is plain. Braced for rejection, her acceptance has taken him by surprise.

“Okay,” she laughs. “I’ll give you a second chance.”

Confusion transforms into a grin, one that puts his previous small smiles to shame. Happiness really does look good on him.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

She hopes Penelope is right about him. She wants Penelope to be right about him. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be someone worth staying for.