#and there’s no one in my life I can rely on to help me or fall back on if I need it

[teaboot]

So this might be a bit of a dumb question, but I thought I’d ask you because I agree with most of your takes and because you studied fashion.

I graduate this fall, and I don’t know what I’m going to wear to the ceremony. Our school has these green robes so I wanted to wear something to go with them. A lot of the graduates wear white dresses, but I’m not sure I want to because some of them don’t feel formal enough for the occasion. I’ve struggled a lot in my college career, so I wanted to pick something celebratory. I’m just not sure where to start to find something that I like and that will suit me.

I’d also like to get something from a small business, if possible. I’ve visited a few department stores in search of formalwear and I’ve found that 1) things don’t fit me because I’m 4'10'' and 120 lb and 2) I generally don’t like the way they look. I’ve considered Etsy because my roommate who just graduated got a skirt from a seller that looked really nice, but I keep running into the problem of not knowing what I want.

If this is weird, please ignore and I’m really sorry. I just feel a bit lost. Thank you for your time!

ooooooughh that’s a toughie

I think a big factor would be how formal you’re planning to go- are we talking ball gown, black tie event, expensive restaurant, Sunday at church…?

Not knowing your build but going off your description, you’re lucky in that pretty much anything you wear is more likely to be too big than too small, and it’s much easier to cinch or belt or bring in the hem of a garment than it is to let it out. Being petite, you can rely a lot on accessories to bring your look together, and accessories can go a long way in elevating an otherwise plain look.

White dress is a cute idea, though I may aim for off-white just to avoid looking bridal unless it’s a uniform event or a school colours thing. A warm eggshell or cream looks good on most people.

If you’re going to be wearing a robe though, I wouldn’t worry too much about the dress- not unless you want fancy cuffs or collar or hem visible. In which case, a nice blouse with a belted maxi or midi skirt could be a good idea, if a little old-fashioned.

As for specific retailers, I fully encourage Etsy stores with good reviews, though I would add a note to your order if something is urgent or has specific measurements or requirements or alterations. And some styles are safer than others when it comes to sizing- being broad-shouldered myself, I always gravitate to wrap dresses or wrap tops, just ‘cause they enhance a curvy figure while still having plenty of room for error in sizing.

I know this didn’t really help with specifics, but maybe hopefully gave you some ideas…?

(one sec, gonna update this with images so you know what kind of tops/dresses I’m referring to)

UPDATE:

When I say “wrap dress”, I mean something like these- Conservative enough to be professional, but light and breezy enough for a long summer ceremony. Ideally in a light cotton or linen blend, and something you can reuse for other events over and over in the future (the second is a bit bright for me but that’s close to the hem I mean- though I personally prefer the first.) Being petite and slim, you’re double lucky in that you could probably pull off an empire waist too if you like for that floaty, ethereal look- busty people like me often just end up looking pregnant.

As for blouses, these are great and can be super crazy, depending on how far you wanna go

You’ll be depending on the collar and sleeves to do most of the legwork here, so you can have a lot of fun with them. The skirt though should be at least lower calf-length to balance the whole thing out.

Thinking like

Cute, retro, somewhat formal, and you can keep wearing the pieces instead of a big gown that ends up in the back of a closet forever. (I’ve lived a broke life, vintage styles like this are fantastic for the longevity and penny-pinching that I look for)

But with robes on, the biggest parts of your outfit will be neckline and hemline, so whatever you end up going with, focus there.

Also, shoes go in and out of style constantly, and it’s going to be a LONG fucking day, so if you want to wear heels I’d go with a closed-toe almond fit with a low heel, ideally on the thicker side, and in black, or at least some other neutral colour to avoid taking up attention. Unless you can get the exact shade of green as your school colours, in which case that would be pretty neat too, but black may be your best bet.

comme ça:

If there’s any inspo images you have on hand or particular styles you feel suit you personally, I could find something more suited to your tastes, but these are basically my go-tos.

Traditional timeless and comfy, and either long-lasting or functional enough to be worn over and over again, dressed up or down to the occasion.

Hope I could help?

And congratulations! :D

[softtdaisy]

hiii ! I love your writing, you are very talented ❤️

Could I please request a dad!spencer fic where he and reader comfort their daughter after her first heartbreak?

heal the heartbreak / Spencer Reid

summary. when your daughter gets her first heartbreak, Spencer and you are here to remind her that love can be beautiful

words count. 2 241

what to expect. sweet, Spencer is super in love with reader. I chose to not name the daughter and I tried to make her ex as neutral as possible (you can tell me if I made any mistake!)

a/n. I'm sorry for the little wait on this one but I loved the idea a lot, dad!Spencer has my heart honestly I want a family with him too!! thank you for your kind words it means a lot to me 🫶

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

Spencer loved a routine.

For years, he didn’t even realize he needed one. He loved being a profiler; he loved working at the bureau. He loved knowing that every day would be a new one, a new experience, something new to experience and to remember—even if sometimes he wished he could forget some aspects of it.

Spencer's life was fine until the day he met you. With a job that was an overwhelming surprise every day, he realized how important it was to have a pillar to rely on. Someone to meet after work, someone he knew and that knew him. Someone that made him feel like his life had another meaning other than just being Dr. Spencer Reid.

You were that someone.

And for years you gave him that. The hug when he came home, the comfort discussion over dinner, the cuddle in bed. The phone call when he was away, the “I love you” text when he had to stay over at the office. 

And then you gave him more. 

A family.

Spencer couldn't help but smile at the picture on his desk. You, him, and your daughter were all laughing because he made a stupid dad joke in front of the photographer. That. That was all Spencer needed. The relief of knowing that no matter what happened at work, at the end of the day, he’ll have you both.

Even if your last text was quite…confusing.

“Code red. Can you bring ice cream from David’s friend? Love you x.”

Spencer stared at it for a minute. Whatever this code red meant—he would remember if you had chosen a code name for the situation, right?—he texted that friend to order everyone’s favorite ice icecream. He didn’t even need to give more info apart from that it was for you three. You had ice cream night anytime he would come on from a case that lasted multiple days. 

Spencer couldn’t wait to know what the emergency was. So, he finished his file quicker—nothing too difficult for him. And ran to hand it to Hotch. Who was very much surprised to see his agent this early? “Already?” he asked.

“Well, we have a code red at home.”

“Code…red?”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know what it means either, but I have to pick up some ice cream before coming home.”

And Hotch’s face lit up. He wasn’t a stranger to this type of situation. And the look he gave Spencer was the expression of a dad who knew what a code red could mean. “Sounds like your daughter needs you. You can go.”

After a 20-minute trip and a visit to the shop where David’s friend told him, “Good luck”—why” does everyone seem to understand the situation except him?—Spencer was finally home.

And the least that can be said was that nothing screamed emergency. The TV was on, with your favorite rom-com playing, and you were in the kitchen making dinner. Humming a familiar melody that sounded like home.

“What does code red mean?” was the first thing Spencer said when he entered the kitchen. 

It wasn’t until he spoke that he realized he could have scared you. But he didn’t.

The love you shared meant that you could feel him entering any room before hearing or seeing him. You knew the love of your life was here, and you welcomed him with a sweet smile.

“First, a kiss,” you asked. You noticed the confusion on Spencer’s face out of the corner of your eye. You bit your lips, trying not to laugh when he approached to give you the quickest kiss on the lips. Because there was one thing Spencer wasn’t laughing about.

Well, two. 

You and your daughter.

And so when he wrapped his arm around your waist, something he did so casually that he didn’t question it, and put his head on your shoulder, he appreciated the moment for a second. Just one second when he thanked the universe that it brought you into his life.

But he didn’t waste another second. “What is going on?”

You turned down the tomato sauce before turning to face your husband. “Your daughter had her first heartbreak.” 

You brought a hand to his chest and caressed it softly while he swallowed the whole situation. “Wait a minute.” Spencer finally said. “There was someone who could break her heart in the first place?” He had a little menacing tone in his voice, something you haven’t heard in a long time. 

The caress turned into soft taps. “See,” you laughed softly, “this is the reason why you didn’t know about it.” 

But you explained in the big lines that yes, your daughter had been seeing someone from her high school. Someone you didn’t know much about, so you couldn’t answer any of Spencer's questions. All you knew was that they were in the same class and same acting group. And that, apparently, it has been over since…a couple of hours now.

“What did she say?”

If you weren’t convinced already, Spencer’s worrying look was the last proof you needed to know this man was the love of your life. And the greatest father a child could hope for.

“That she was going to die alone, that all lovers are shit, but to tell Daddy that she loves him.” 

Spencer’s cheek got pinker, and you couldn’t resist giving a small kiss on his nose. He was always so adorable any time you or your daughter would share your love for him. Like after so many years, he still doubted that you truly loved him. 

When you would give your whole life just for his smile. 

As an answer to your kiss, he put one on your forehead before asking, “Should we go see her?” 

“I was waiting for you,” you replied, taking his hand.

You checked your sauce one last time before following Spencer to your daughter’s room. You watched as he took the lead, walking in front of you and knocking at her door with a melody that he created with her. It started when she was a kid, a way to protect her from his work and make sure she wouldn't open the door to anyone but you and him. You honestly thought the habit would die once she became a teenager, but there is nothing that can fight the link between these two.

And you weren’t surprised to see her open the door a few seconds after that. Nor were you when she immediately went into his arms and grabbed your hand to not make you feel sidelined. Yes, that was 100% Spencer Reid’s daughter, someone who would always make sure nobody felt rejected around her. Even when she was the one with a broken heart.

After a moment, Spencer took her little face in between his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She shrugged but still guided the both of you inside. When she sat on the rug, her back against the bed, you did the same. Each one by her side. And soon she had her head on Spencer’s shoulder and her hand still in yours—there was nothing like a hand massage from her mom. 

“I hate love,” she mumbled. You and Spencer both looked at each other, knowing pretty well how it felt. You both went through some shit moments in your personal lives before meeting each other. “Why does it have to hurt? It sucks.” 

Spencer felt it right in his heart. He remembered thinking something similar years ago. Probably when he was his age, more certainly later. He had never been a lucky teen with love. And most of his young adult life wasn’t successful when it came to relationships. Failed date, ghosting, difficulty dealing with his job and his partner… yes, it wasn’t as great as he wished it was. 

But the difference with his daughter was that Spencer didn’t have anyone to complain to. He couldn’t talk about it with his mom, sadly. He didn’t have many friends back in school, and certainly some that he couldn’t trust with his feelings. And at the BAU…he was just being selfish. Most of them would have listened, for sure. But he imagined their reactions and provoked his own insecurities.

Spencer didn’t want your daughter to go through the same thing.

“You know,” he started, caressing her back softly. “Love is definitely not an easy game.” 

“You’ll fall for people that won’t love you back. You’ll fall for people that will be unreachable. You’ll fall for people that you thought would never hurt you but will hurt the most. And you will probably believe that you can’t fall in love again more times than you can count.”

You couldn’t stop looking at Spencer while he said all this. Knowing most of these stories, remembering each thing he had told you. And his words echoing in your own memories. 

“It will hurt, sweet pie. But it will be worth it, you know why?”

And if your daughter barely moved her head, just simply to look at Spencer, he moved his eyes to put them on yours. He gave you a look that lost your heart many years ago and still does every single day since. 

“Because one day you’ll find the person made for your heart, and love will make perfect sense.”

You couldn’t contain the smile that grew on your face. And it became even harder when he gave you a smile back.

But the silence was short-term.

“Ugh, did you just make a love confession to Mom over my broken heart?” she complained. But she moved her head just a little to look at you. “No offense, Mom.”

“None taken,” you replied with a laugh. “But your dad is right. I can’t tell you how many times I was in the same position, crying after a breakup, thinking I could never get better.”

“But you have something that this idiot doesn’t.” You added, brushing some hair away from her face in a lovely mention.

And you met two confused faces: your daughter, who couldn’t see what she could have when she was only counting the pieces of her broken heart. And Spencer, who couldn’t see where you were headed to.

So you moved your face closer to her to whisper, still loud enough for Spencer to hear, “A dad, uncles, and aunts that can make a body disappear.”

And you knew you won when you heard her laugh. 

“That’s not the FBI’s job!” Spencer replied, pretending to be shocked when it wasn’t the first time you actually mentioned this. That was probably the first thing Penelope said to your daughter when she was born. So it seemed logical to remind her that she had a whole support group ready for her.

“Oh, come on,” your daughter said, turning to her dad again. “You wouldn’t do that to me? Your daughter? Your sweet pie? The most precious thing in your life?”

You bit your lips at her reply, and you knew what Spencer’s look at you said. This is your fault. And you couldn’t blame him—it was indeed your fault.

“How about we stop discussing the whole murder thing?” Spencer suggested and brought the bag he had taken in the room in front of you two. “And start eating ice cream.”

More than the ice cream you had after rough cases, you had ice cream for dinner some time when it was necessary. It was something you started with Spencer when adult life was just too exhausting to follow the rules. And yes, you did get sick more than once after eating only ice cream. This explained why you still made dinner in case any of you three needed a real meal. 

But tonight was a night where being an adult was too much. Your daughter had a brief view of what it looked like, and it seemed like it was too early for her—and Spencer could say it was definitely too early for her to be heartbroken.

So you each got your bowl with your favorite flavors and toppings, and you toasted with your spoons.

Soon you were reminded how much your daughter was a copy and paste of Spencer when she asked for his silly facts and stories about cases or…basically anything that was on his mind. You watched as they argued about some scientific things you couldn’t understand.

But mostly as she hugged her dad when she finished her bowl. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She gave you the same treatment before getting up and saying she needed to take a shower to “wash this whole day away.” 

It was just the two of you sitting on the floor of your daughter’s bedroom—echoing some of the sleepless nights you had when she was little. “We did a great job,” you laughed, even if you meant it. 

But when you turned your head, Spencer was looking at you. With no fun, no. With love.

“I love you,” he simply said before leaning in to kiss you. A sweet and short kiss that didn’t even last, but his hand on your neck did. Enough so you could say you love him back right against his lips.

“You know she’ll kill us if she knows we kiss in her room?” You also said, against his lips. 

And this time, Spencer’s face was all fun. 

And happiness.

Oh, how happy he was with his family. 

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[candy-fae]

IiiiIIIIIIIIITS MY BIRTHDAY!

I’m. Having a not great birthday!!

But I am a year older today none the less, and will try to get my hands on some cake, and try to have a good time.

Please send me some art requests, perFERRABLLY of blorbos. Or ponies. Or like. My ocs. I wanna talk about my little guys on my birthday.

[ariesvibe]

.

[imminent-danger-came]

Man the Amazing Digital Circus ep 2 like, fucking slaps

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[chiistarri]

what if instead of messaging me in the middle of the night about your stupid fucking girlfriend and your stupid fucking problems with her you actually act like my fucking friend and message me like how you message everyone else in our group

[widevibratobitch]

moments like this when im really glad im a sad little cynic who always considers the worst possible outcome and never lets herself truly get comfortable and trust the good things in her life to stay there and builds her life around trying to soften the blows of the eventual disappointments just waiting around the corner lol never leaving my edgy teenager era peace and love

[professionaljester]

how the fuck do people make friends online lol

[nippular]

***

[keypostos]

caleb is the biggest advocate of happy wife = happy life.

in the morning, he waits for you to wake up so he can attack your face with kisses. he starts by smoothing out your hair, poking at your cheeks, and running his fingers across your lips.

your giggles are worth missing that extra hour of sleep anyway.

he plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finalizes with a brief kiss on your lips, leaving you to rush in for one more. and who is he to deny his wife?

okay—technically—his girlfriend. but still.

after your slow morning, caleb decides to take you out for lunch. he holds you close when you walk; his arm is wrapped around your shoulder the entire time. when he feels you lean into him for more (of his body warmth, but he doesn’t have to know that), caleb explodes. he probably runs hotter after that too.

he leads you through grocery stores (“do you think we need this for the fridge?”), flower shops (“caleb, i think this would look great on our dresser”), and the tire shop (“pipsqueak, you really need to get these tires fixed. good thing you can always rely on me, though!”).

you browse for things to make his apartment more homey. he looks for items to stock your (our—as caleb likes to say) fridge with. you joke and bicker and hide your heads when you get stares from older ladies for being too loud. you’ll laugh about this when you get home.

later, for dinner, caleb decides he’ll cook for you at home with the groceries he bought today. he made a new special tonight: some kind of pasta with chicken.

and no matter how many times you insisted on helping, caleb used his evol to push you back onto the couch. but, when you snuck over to him and grabbed his waist, he surrendered. any reasonable man would. how could he not surrender when you nuzzled into him, begging him to let you do something.

at dinner, he cut up your chicken and fed you until you started making pregnancy jokes. what a dream that would be, caleb thought.

then, at night (probably 10pm), you two start heading to bed. caleb hops in the shower with you (“could this be my reward for cooking for you today?”) and runs his hand through your hair; shampoos and conditions it; rubs body wash all over you; and rinses you off.

you repeat the same actions to him, except you like to mess with him ten times more. you rub soap everywhere, but you paid special attention to his abs. and biceps.

though, caleb didn’t say a single thing. he had to fight back the urge to smirk when your hands rubbed up and down his arms. this might’ve been heaven for him.

when you got out, you asked (begged) if you could shave for him. caleb had been growing a bit of stubble, and you’ve always expressed your interest in shaving him since he started growing hair.

so he props you up on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs while you carefully run the razor up and down his jaw. you’re so gentle with him—much gentler than he usually is when shaving himself.

your fingers prod all over his jawline and cheeks. your featherlight touch sends sparks all over his face, and he can’t help but break out into a smile (even when you scold him). scratch what he said before—this is heaven to him.

when you’re done, you analyze his face as if he’s a sculpture. you trace your fingertips down the slope of his jaw; the high rise of his cheekbones, and over his lips for fun. he playfully tries to bite your finger before you swat at him.

the two of you brush your teeth, and you already know caleb will be bumping hips with you throughout the whole process. what should take two minutes turns into ten—with both you and caleb messing with each other by tickling, pinching, or hugging.

once you two are in bed, your face is pressed into caleb’s chest. he rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel his breaths coming down on you. when you look up at him with glowing, love-sick eyes, caleb presses kisses all over the top of your head.

you angle yourself up slightly, and caleb perks up eyebrow in suspicion. even in the dark, caleb can tell you’re smiling when you push yourself up and kiss him on the lips. it’s a deep kiss: one where you’re thanking him, trying to please him, and loving him all at once.

caleb is on you instantly, with one hand holding your face and the other cradling the small of your back. he puts all of the energy he has left into the kiss, before pulling away and slumping his head on the pillow like a love-starved dog.

“thank you. for today,” you murmur, inching yourself closer to him. “i appreciate everything you do for me,” you press one more kiss onto his lips before you fall into the hands of sleep, “i love you, caleb.”

oh yeah, caleb thinks, happy wife, happy life.

i wrote this in 30 mins can u tell

also idk what’s up w my borders im writing this on my phone so they’re a bit janky loll sorry

[dicks-o-clok]

.

[ma7moudgaza2]

Should I put 10 dollars into food or into education and development in Gaza?

This is a real question, not just theory or philosophy… It’s a question that confronts me every day, and I found myself compelled to answer it clearly.

Today in Gaza, people are hungry… but also, people are lost. There’s a young graduate sitting on the rubble without even a laptop to work on. There’s a university student studying by candlelight, with no internet to continue his education. There’s an engineer who, instead of building, is searching for a box of aid to feed his family.

Do you know what that means? It means the occupation doesn’t want to kill us with bullets; it wants to kill us with ignorance, with helplessness, by turning us into mere people waiting for a bag of flour, waiting for assistance… and that’s the biggest crime against us. Today, we all in Gaza need a bite to eat… but what about tomorrow? Am I going to rely on others for the rest of my life just to survive? And that’s the question that occupies my mind the most!! Or should I be able to provide for myself and my family and rebuild my life?

That’s why, instead of letting the 10 dollars be a meal for one day, let it be an investment in a student who will rise from the rubble, who will learn, and who will be able to provide for his own food forever.

Let it be a share of empowerment, not just so Gaza can survive one more day… but so Gaza can rise, stand, and endure forever.

Help us build a future for the coming days in Gaza.

I am Mahmoud, a computer systems engineer and UI/UX designer.

If you know of job opportunities in companies or with people looking for this field, you can help me find a job. Message me in DM if you need my portfolio or resume.

We are now in the final stages of the campaign. We recently received $25,000, and only $10,000 is left to reach my campaign goal. Support the families of Gaza and also support education.

25,000$ / 35,000$

@appsa @tsaricides @schoolhater @buttercuparry @feluka

@el-shab-hussein @wherethatoldtraingoes2 @nabulsi @sayruq @sar-soor

@tiredguyswag @gothhabiba @slydiddledeedee @kingskrazzyart @a-shade-of-blue

[northgazaupdates]

I recently spoke with my dear friend Suad @suad-khaled and she gave me an update on her life as a displaced mother in south-central Gaza. I want to share with you all some of what she told me:

Our situation has become far worse than before.

My baby, Khaled, who is now 6 months old, depends on formula milk, which is either unavailable or sold at prices I simply cannot afford. Diapers are also ridiculously expensive, and even basic food has become out of reach.

Some vegetables and fruits are available in the market, but I can only afford to buy a single piece at a time, which becomes one meal for Khaled. But what about the rest of the day? What about the following days? As a mother, I can endure hunger, but how can a baby?

Even flour, which we relied on for our basic sustenance, is almost unavailable. The little we managed to buy is infested with bugs and worms, unhealthy but the only option we have left. And now, it’s almost gone. What will we do after that?

Khaled’s health has also worsened. He struggles to breathe due to his chest allergies, a condition that developed under these harsh circumstances. He needs regular nebulizer sessions and medication, but we can barely afford to provide them.

Here is precious little Khaled, tired and fatigued from hunger and sickness, receiving nebulizer treatment:

And here is the flour Suad and her family are forced to pick through in order to survive.

Sifting only removes the largest insects that have made their home in the flour. It does not remove larvae, detached wings, or excrement. Suad and her family are forced to eat them in order to (barely) avoid starvation.

Suad’s situation has never been more dire than it is right now. Food and basic necessities are extremely scarce and expensive. And the threat of IOF attack is omnipresent.

Please, if you can spare anything at all, send something to Suad. We are her and her baby’s best chance at surviving genocide.

[ahmedmohamedqwaider]

“My Story: A Boy Fighting for His Family”

My name is Ahmed, and I am 15 years old. I never thought I would have to carry the weight of my entire family, but here I am, fighting every day to keep them alive.

We lost my father in the war. He went out one day to find food for us because we were starving. It was dangerous, but he had no choice. He never came back. He was injured and bled to death because there was no one to help him. Our neighbors found his body and buried him because we couldn’t even afford a proper burial. That day, we lost everything—our protector, our provider, and our hope.

Now, it’s up to me. I am the eldest son, and I have to take care of my mother, my twin brother Ahmed Abed, and my two little sisters. Every morning, I go out to find work. I earn barely $1 or $2 a day, which isn’t enough to buy bread for all of us. My brother started working too, but it’s the same for him. We rely on bread and whatever humanitarian aid we can get, but it’s never enough.

Winter is here, and it’s freezing. We don’t have warm clothes, blankets, or even a heater. We lost everything in the war, and the little we have now is falling apart. We live in a rented apartment, and the landlord is pressuring us for rent we can’t pay. I don’t know what will happen to us if he throws us out.

I want my brother to become a doctor. It’s my biggest dream. I want him to help people, to save lives, because no one was there to save our father. I’m ready to sacrifice everything—my childhood, my education, even my life—if it means my family can survive and my brother can have a future.

Please, if you’re reading this, help us. We don’t have much time. My family needs food, warmth, and a safe place to live. I just want to see my mother and sisters smile again, and I want my brother to have a chance to achieve his dream. You can be the reason we survive. You can be the hope we desperately need.