dublin town


A third year student studying what? Maths? History? Experimental science? All of these courses existed at various points in the 19th century. It took me two minutes of googling to find that out… 

flammenmeer  asked:

Okay for your Kayleigh Lives AU - please consider this: It's summer break and Kayleigh takes her sons to the beach for vacation. (Maybe last minute booking so the four of them have to share ONE room or one of their bags got missing during the flight and it's big drama. BUT ALSO - BEACH! SUN! FUN?!)

>> The Kayleigh Lives AU <<

Omg I sidetracked so hard from your prompt i’m sorry
but consider: Kayleigh’s 50th birthday

(I just realized it might be unclear but Kevin is holding a selfie-stick lmao)

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Dirty Old Town
Townes Van Zandt
Dirty Old Town

“Dirty Old Town” is probably one of my favorite songs. I’ve never heard a bad version of it. It’s just such a beautiful sentiment to a place, which is something not often found in songs. I’m glad to find this cover of it by someone who wrote another one of my favorite songs (“Pancho and Lefty”), Townes Van Zandt. 

Other great versions of this song can be found by the likes of The Mountain Goats, The Pogues, The Dubliners, and the song’s author Ewan MacColl.

skyler10fic  asked:

ooo what's your favorite thing to conveniently or humorously be different in Pete's World? lol


  • Starbucks is all about tea, and coffee is secondary.
  • Chips weren’t invented, so Rose opens a chain of wildly successful chippies, and builds her own chips empire. Instead of being known as the Vitex Heiress, she is known as the Potato Queen. They come with a variety of dipping sauces (that’s my homage to my favorite restaurant in the whole world: Eamonn’s Dublin Chipper in Old Town Alexandria, VA).
  • When the monarchy was dissolved, all of those estates became hotels and bed and breakfasts run by the former nobles. TenToo and Rose visit them often for dirty weekends.

So…like. There was some drama? Whatever. Just love and let love, homies. Life’s too short. 

So here. It’s the follow-up to this

There was a change, after. 

It was small. It was maybe insignificant. 

But it was there. 

And it was wonderful. 

There was a peace to him, a settled feeling. There used to be a recklessness about him, a wanderlust - and now, it was gone. 

Because she had said she loved him. 

He meant it when he said he’d marry her - there was an innate grace about her, a quiet confidence that he wanted for his children, for his grandchildren. He wanted to see that lovely face age, wanted to still be dancing with that body twenty years from now. He, who had always feared of never finding someone who could really anchor him, was just so deliriously happy swimming in the calm of her waters. 

She just…made him. Every bad decision, every stupid comment - it didn’t matter. Because all of those moments, all of those idiocies - led to this. 

To her

He would do it all over again. 





She had the distinct capability of seeing through him - of seeing the man, not the reputation. She saw through every line of his bullshit, read him like he was the fucking dictionary. He found himself showing sides of his life that he kept secret and private - not because she asked, but because he had to. He wanted her to see, to know - he wanted to show her all the parts of himself, because to deny her would be suicide. 

She asked nothing of him, or from him.

So he gave her everything. 

Being with her, loving her - it was…a blessing. A privilege. 

So he gave her everything he had. 

She deserved nothing less. 

“You can’t pet me.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Well, you can, but…you shouldn’t.”

“I should.”

“Okay, fine." 

It was difficult for her to exude the despair that the routine called for. 

She was just too happy. 

He made her so happy. 

He was, simply put - the safest haven that she had ever known. 

It truly amazed her, the story he was capable of telling, after just hearing the song a couple of times. Having skated almost all her life, she understood how hard it was to choreograph a routine, the time and effort it took to tell a convincing and emotional story. 

And he did it, time after time. 

He was genius. 

And he got her. 

And wasn’t that absolutely miraculous?????

She wasn’t ashamed to say she fell in love with his creativity first. Okay - so it was his butt and his gorgeous eyes, then his creativity - but, the passion that he had for his craft was absolutely admirable. She knew he said that she was the reason that he was able to tell such stories on the dance floor, but…it was a compliment the she honestly felt she didn’t deserve. 

She had seen him dance - she had seen what he was capable of doing. 

She was just elated to experience it first hand. 

But beyond that - through that, all over that - oh. She was just…in love with everything he was. He brought out in her sides that she didn’t know she had - demanded things she didn’t know she was capable of giving. 

He made her love harder than anything she had ever known. Deeper. Purer. The feelings he inspired in her were beyond words. 

Beyond anything. 

She felt…God, she felt real in his arms. Like a woman. Like his woman - the woman - the only one he’d ever want, the only one he’d ever need. Loving him - it was the most beautiful fire she had ever known. He made her heart expand and grow - she loved him with a passion and an intensity that was almost crazy…and yet…





Loving him - was a gift. A privilege.

And it was beautiful.

Author’s Note:  I understand that we can’t always agree. But - regardless of the argument, I want everyone to know I support you all. Because regardless of personal opinion, we all have a love for these two people who have inspired us. To create stories and videos and gifs and run our imagination away with speculation, ideas, and the rest of it. So this story is dedicated to everyone who gave us something - whether it be gifs, stories or that fucking awesome video Tricia did (i fucking almost peed on myself laughing), to Maggie  with her fucking awesome self, to Emma & her sassiness, to Sage who is possibly the coolest 15 year old on the planet, to Becky  who is holding it down in Dublin-town, & every fucking one on here who has absolutely fallen in love w/ these two & have the balls to go on this here internet & talk about it. Fuck everyone else - fuck those douchey assholes who spread hate & discord & all around bullshit. The more we give them a platform, the worse we are. Fuck that. So this story is dedicated to each and every one of you - you have made my days at work funnier, you have absolutely ruined my weekends w/ your fabulosity, & I won’t have ig'nant (yeah, I said it!!!!) douches ruin it. 

So get your heads back into the game, watch that frickin freestyle, eat an Oreo, & hold up that middle finger high up in the sky for all those asshole haters!!!!!! 

Don’t make me come get you. ;-) 

// Robbers // - Part 2. Destruction

Word Count: 8.7k kill me 
Status: kind of edited but im using a new writing format so its hit and miss. language, sex, drugs, gang, gun use and all the usual stuff. sorry the first part’s of this are kind of bad they were wrote back in september. i think im getting the hang of the smut thing now.

You can read the other part’s here

destruction; the action or process of causing so much damage to something that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired.

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