safety shirts


Rosie and Sherlock having matching necklaces that both have a small rose charm on them. They wear them everyday and never take them off. When Sherlock’s off defeating bad guys, he protectively tucks his necklace away into his shirt for safety, always thinking of Rosie. Rosie shows off her necklace during show and tell and proudly tells everyone that Sherlock has one just like hers.

Are there any cool tutorials on downsizing/upcycling T-shirts that won’t make me look like a high school freshman who feverishly hacked at their science camp souvenir shirt with safety scissors until it resembled something that might give their crush a boner in gym class?

Because all of my favourite T-shirts are too big on me now, but not big enough that it’s a lost cause and time to turn them into patches, and like… Doing intricate knot magic so that the back looks like a skull or some shit isn’t really going to fix that. But I’d feel weird just straight-up clean tailoring my Dave Strider shirt like a pioneer woman from the worst possible alternate timeline.

So, yeah. Neat ideas. Get at me.

hotel walls

Originally posted by ji-min

pairing: minjoon + yoonseok
length: one shot, 4.5k
genre: smut
rating: M
tags: sexual tension, accidental voyeurism, exhibitionism, over all smut antics


“um,” jimin begins, breaking the silence, “hyung, should we–uh–tell them?”

“i-i don’t think so,” namjoon stutters, “what would we do, just knock on the door?”

ao3 link

Keep reading

okay so let’s talk about tonight’s episode of saturday night live. i was so worried that this show that i love was going to make light of the horrible events happening in the country, but i was not disappointed. first, pete posted on instagram with a beautiful caption which, to be completely honest, is the only reason i watched the show tonight. kate as hillary, singing hallelujah, broke my heart. it broke everyone’s heart. and when she said, “I’m not giving up, and neither should you,” with tears in her eyes, it killed each and every one of us. thank you, snl, for not mocking us. thank you for letting kate play hillary. thank you for letting our incredible gay icon play such an amazing and influential woman. thank you for that message.
everyone was so happy tonight. did you see that? almost everyone broke. kate broke as rbg and she kept giggling and my heart soared. and kenan broke a million times. leslie, my sweet baby, broke over and over again. and pete with that god damn cookie. was that not beautiful?
and leslie. leslie fucking jones stole the show. she looked so beautiful tonight (she does all the time, who am i kidding) and she got so much screen time and i am so happy for her.
talk about cecily’s safety pin shirt. i love cecily strong more than words can convey. wearing that shirt, she did absolutely so much for so many people. i love her.
i love the entire saturday night live cast. it felt so good to laugh after everything awful that has happened this week. this is exactly what all of us needed.


This is how long it took me to call my senators and representative (Wicker, Cochran, and Harper of Mississippi) about Steve Bannon on Tuesday and Jeff Sessions today. 

Do you have phone anxiety? I do, too. Here’s what to expect: a very courteous staffer will answer. You ask to leave a message. They ask for your name and sometimes where you live. Then you state your message, and the staffer thanks you. That’s it. You don’t have to argue with anyone. There’s no discussion. 

Please take a few minutes (literally) out of your day to contact your representatives in Washington. This is important. This is EASY. This requires less time and effort than putting a safety pin on your shirt, and it is real action.

PS. Be kind and polite to the staffers.

In honor of Oculus being released tonight I am finally posting this picture! In October 2012 during the film’s shoot in Mobile, Alabama I had the honor of being Katee Sackhoff’s double for a scene. She was lovely and everyone on the cast and crew that I met was so nice and friendly. It was a really unique experience and I’m glad I got the opportunity to do it–even if it meant getting eight inches of my hair cut off to match Katee’s!

(Evidently they wanted me to be Karen Gillan’s stand-in (asdkfjsjdff) but since I lived 3.5 hours away and couldn’t be there for the whole shoot they went with someone else. I did get to meet Karen though, and talk to her for about an hour. She is amazing.)


There are a handful of songs I can’t really listen to without having a drink in hand.

We used to hum this one under our breaths–oh, sweet nuthin’– as we meandered down this or that public footpath. It’s long and slow and wandering–she ain’t got nothing at all–all the way up until everything collapses in a frenzied rage. 

I used to laugh at him for putting it on at four in the morning, cuppa in hand, up early after a night of drinks. 

Wonderful, I’d say, sticking a safety pin in his shirt, and then we’d laugh and turn up the Sonos.

It’s funny–I couldn’t stop listening to it after. I’d play it on a loop, as if I could start everything else over too. 

You’re part of the family now, he’d said after I’d threatened and ridiculed him up the wall at Kelsey Kerridge for the hundredth time.

I’d laughed and slapped him, hard.

If I’d known then, I’d have slapped him harder.

Now, I just sit back and let the record spin itself out, bottle in hand.

Cheers, Pops. I know you and Lou Reed are reliving the glory days out there somewhere.

**chokes on tears** listen they just deserve things…

like safety… fluffy blankets…. clean shirts that smell like flowers and sunshine….. fresh air…… healty coping mechanisms……. some good nights’ sleep…….. meeting dogs during their walk……… coffee dates……….


pt. 1  |  pt. 2  |  pt. 3

Stiles’ future husband doesn’t show up on the train on Friday.

Which is fine.

Never mind that he’s been there every Friday for something like three months straight and only once Stiles has attempted to establish contact with him has he absconded from the metro with a Sbarro receipt in his coat pocket that had been graffitied with Stiles’ name (and—less importantly—Stiles’ heart).

Did that count as identity theft?

Stiles certainly felt like something important had been stolen from him.

He’s not going to panic though.  He’s not.  It’s probably nothing… just a change in a routine that’s been so consistent he could set his watch by it.


This was it.  His entire future ruined simply because his dirty rocker model non-future husband couldn’t accept how perfect they were for each other.  Who the fuck was going to knit for him now, that’s what Stiles would like to know.

If he isn’t on the train today, Stiles thinks, drearily checking seats, then he’ll just have to accept that his future husband isn’t actually his future husband.  Instead he’ll be a story Stiles tells to his eighteen cats every year on his birthday until he dies and they eat his face off before anyone can find him.

Stiles steps into the second-to-last car and sees a miracle.  An impossibility.  A great shining ray of hope.  It’s as if the sky has parted and the sun is haloed all around the sleeping, scowling, booted asshole hummingbird that Stiles has fallen madly in love with.

It’s the conversational skills that wooed him, truly.

Keep reading