#early irish jewellery

[aodhan-art]

The Wren Prince

He's ready for anything... even robins.

[irish-dress-history]

Irish dress history sources online:

A list of sources for Irish dress history research that free to access on the internet:

Primary and period sources:

Text Sources:

Corpus of Electronic Texts (CELT): a database of historical texts from or about Ireland. Most have both their original text and, where applicable, an English translation. Authors include: Francisco de Cuellar, Luke Gernon, John Dymmok, Thomas Gainsford, Fynes Moryson, Edmund Spenser, Laurent Vital, Tadhg Dall Ó hUiginn

Images:

The Edwin Rae Collection: A collection of photographs of Irish carvings dating 1300-1600 taken by art historian Edwin Rae in the mid-20th c. Includes tomb effigies and other figural art.

National Library of Ireland: Has a nice collection of 18th-20th c. Irish art and photographs. Search their catalog or browse their flickr.

Irish Script on Screen: A collection of scans of medieval Irish manuscripts, including The Book of Ballymote.

The Book of Kells: Scans of the whole thing.

The Image of Irelande, with a Discoverie of Woodkarne by John Derricke published 1581. A piece of anti-Irish propaganda that should be used with caution. Illustrations. Complete text.

Secondary sources:

Irish History from Contemporary Sources (1509-1610) by Constantia Maxwell published 1923. Contains a nice collection of primary source quotes, but it sometimes modernizes the 16th c. English in ways that are detrimental to the accuracy, like changing 'cote' to 'coat'. The original text for many of them can be found on CELT, archive.org, or google books.

An Historical Essay on the Dress of the Ancient and Modern Irish By Joseph Cooper Walker published 1788. Makes admirable use of primary sources, but because of Walker's assumption that Irish dress didn't change for the entirety of the Middle Ages, it is significantly flawed in a lot of its conclusions. Mostly only useful now for historiography. I discussed the images in this book here.

Chapter 18: Dress and Personal Adornment from A Smaller Social History of Ancient Ireland by P. W. Joyce published 1906. Suffers from similar problems to An Historical Essay on the Dress of the Ancient and Modern Irish.

Consumption and Material Culture in Sixteenth-Century Ireland Susan Flavin's 2011 doctoral thesis. A valuable source on the kinds of materials that were available in 16th c Ireland.

A Descriptive Catalogue of the Antiquities in the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy Volumes 1 and 2 by William Wilde, published 1863. Obviously outdated, and some of Wilde's conclusions are wrong, because archaeologists didn't know how to date things in the 19th century, but his descriptions of the individual artifacts are worthwhile. Frustratingly, this is still the best catalog available to the public for the National Museum of Ireland Archaeology. Idk why the NMI doesn't have an online catalog, a lot museums do nowadays.

Volume I: Articles of stone, earthen, vegetable and animal materials; and of copper and bronze

Volume 2: A Descriptive Catalogue of the Antiquities of Gold in the Museum of the Royal Irish Academy

A Horsehair Woven Band from County Antrim, Ireland: Clues to the Past from a Later Bronze Age Masterwork by Elizabeth Wincott Heckett 1998

Jewellery, art and symbolism in Medieval Irish society by Mary Deevy in Art and Symbolism in Medieval Europe- Papers of the 'Medieval Europe Brugge 1997' Conference (page 77 of PDF)

Looking the part: dress and civic status and ethnicity in early-modern Ireland by Brid McGrath 2018

Irish Mantles, English Nationalism: Apparel and National Identity in Early Modern English and Irish Texts by John R Ziegler 2013

Dress and ornament in early medieval Ireland - exploring the evidence by Maureen Doyle 2014

Dress and accessories in the early Irish tale, ‘The Wooing of Becfhola’ by Niamh Whitfield 2006

A tenth century cloth from Bogstown Co. Meath by Elizabeth Wincott Heckett 2004

Tertiary Sources:

Medieval Ireland: An Encyclopedia edited by Sean Duffy published 2005

Re-Examining the Evidence: A Study of Medieval Irish Women's Dress from 750 to 900 CE by Alexandra McConnell

[halfagod]

to the 3 people who said they wanted to read my irish jb au, it's your lucky day! btw jaime is wearing a slim fit hand-fitted hugo boss suit iykyk

Brienne squints at the digital display on the bus stop sign, palms sweating. Her bus will be here in six minutes, it tells her. For the fifth time, she checks Google Maps just to make sure it’s the right one – the H1 towards Baldoyle. Yes, she is at the right stop. The last time she’d tried this, she’d gone to the wrong side of the road. But this time, she’s done everything right, she’s sure of it.

She exhales, relaxing a little, only to have to jump suddenly to the side to avoid being hit by two young teenage boys careening down the footpath on a scooter. They look over their shoulders to jeer at her as they pass.

Brienne suddenly feels very homesick for Inis Oírr.

She glances back at the bus sign, and frowns. The H1 towards Baldoyle is no longer anywhere to be seen on the sign. Behind her, she hears two elderly ladies tutting.

“Gone again,” one of them says. “Typical.”

“Honest to God, Bríd,” says the other one. “We’ll be waiting twenty minutes now for the next one.”

Brienne stares at the sign, not understanding. It was supposed to be six minutes away. Where could it have gone?

At least she’s not in a rush – she’s only going home from work – but she’s exhausted from her first day and wants nothing more than dinner and bed. She sighs. If she has to wait, she may as well call her father.

She digs her phone out of her pocket, hoping he has signal. It can be very patchy out on the island, but she had never minded that when she lived there.

“Haigh,” she says, when he answers in his customary gruff fashion. The sound of his voice sends another wave of homesickness through her. “Cén chaoi ina bhfuil tú?” How are you?

“Maith go leor,” he says. All right. “Agus tusa? Conas a bhí do chéad lá?” How was your first day?

“Maith go leor,” she echoes. She tells him about her new boss, Catelyn, a kind woman from up north who had recently moved to Dublin after losing her husband. She had hired Brienne to help market her new handmade jewellery business, Abhainn.

It’s Brienne’s first proper job out of college, and secretly she is terrifed of letting Catelyn down. Apart from Catelyn’s daughter Sansa, who helps Catelyn out with social media from time to time, Brienne is the sole person on the marketing team, and she can’t help but feel the pressure.

“Ná cuir an iomarca brú ort féin,” her father tells her, as if he’d read her mind. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. “Béidh tú go hiontach.” You’ll be great.

To her surprise, Brienne feels tears well up in her eyes, and chides herself. She’s just tired and a bit homesick, that’s all. There’s nothing to cry about.

Suddenly, she sees the H1 bus loom around the corner. Miraculously, it has come on time after all. Relieved, she bids her father a hasty goodbye and sticks her hand out to hail it.

She lets the old ladies board first, pulling a crisp tenner out of her purse as she waits. Suddenly, she hears a voice from behind her. A male voice, lazy and amused, with a South Dublin drawl. “They don’t give change, you know.”

Brienne turns, startled, and sees the most handsome man she’s ever seen in her life.

He is older than her, in his early thirties probably, wearing a suit that looks expensive. He has tanned skin, flashing green eyes, and curly hair the colour of beaten gold. His smile is sharp and perfect, revealing a mouthful of gleaming white teeth. He looks like he should be on a beach in Australia, or on the catwalk at Paris Fashion Week, not in Dublin about to get on the H1 to Baldoyle.

“What?” she says stupidly, both flustered that the most handsome man in the world is talking to her and panicked by the information he has just imparted.

The bus driver clears his throat impatiently; it’s her turn to pay. Before she can decide what to do, the most handsome man in the world hands the bus driver a tenner of his own.

“For both of us,” he says, nodding towards Brienne.

The bus door closes behind them, and the bus jolts forward at a speed Brienne had not been prepared for. She catapults backwards, and the handsome man catches her, strong arms wrapping around her. He smells of expensive cologne. She feels a flutter in her belly; she has seldom been this close to a man, and never one this beautiful.

“Wow,” he says, still amused, his voice low in her ear. Even with that accent, it’s an undeniably sexy voice. “You’ve really never been on a Dublin bus before, have you?”

She struggles out of his grip, mortified, and grabs a handrail. He looks her up and down, that cutting smile still on his face, and she is suddenly very aware of the fact that she’s wearing a Penney’s jumper and a shabby green anorak.

Her embarrassment turns to anger. She does not need to be made fun of by some posh, rich South Dubliner who has probably never had to work for anything in his life. She mutters, “Thank you,” shoves her tenner into his hand, and wobbles down the aisle to find a seat, holding on to the handrails as she goes.

To her consternation, the man follows her. “I didn’t mean any offence,” he says lightly, sitting down beside her when she takes a seat. “Where are you from? What was that language I heard you speaking?”

Brienne stares at him in disbelief, forgetting her anger for a moment. “You mean... Irish?”

The man laughs. “You don’t say. I wasn’t very good at it in school. I always thought it was a bit pointless.”

Brienne shakes her head. Handsome though he may be, this man is everything she hates about Dublin personified. “Thank you for paying for me,” she tells him primly, then pointedly takes her headphones out of her bag and puts them on.

The man taps her shoulder. When she turns to glare at him, he hands her back the tenner she’d given him. “It was a gift,” he says, smiling. “I like to help out the culchies wherever I can.”

Hot with rage, Brienne screws the note up into a ball and shoves it back into his hand without a word.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, I’m sorry. I’d give you your change, but that’s all the cash I have on me. Can’t fit much coinage in the pockets of this suit.”

Part of her does want to take the tenner back – she’s painfully broke – but it’s a matter of pride. She does not need charity from some insufferable D4 who thinks her first language is pointless. She stares out of the window, ignoring him, and finally he leaves her alone.

At least until they get to his stop, at which point he taps her on the shoulder again. She grudgingly pauses her music, wondering what he could possibly want now.

“My name’s Jaime,” he informs her, as though this is something she needs to know.

“OK,” she says.

He waits, and she realises he’s waiting for her to give him her name. She doesn’t.

He smiles, sharp as a knife. “All right, culchie. Good luck in the big smoke,” he says, and then finally, finally, gets off the bus.

As the bus moves off again, she watches him stride confidently down the street. What an obnoxious, snobby, gorgeous weirdo, she thinks, and can’t tell if she’s relieved or strangely disappointed that she’ll probably never see him again.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@razorfst and I plotted a starter!

The black silk cocktail dress and the value of the gold and emerald jewellery that adorn her bird-bones of her fingers and wrists set her apart from the rest of the serving staff putting the finishing touches on the pre-party prep. She stops short though, clip board in hand, and looks up at him. And up some more. And then for added measure, she takes a half step back. The man is huge; clearly well over a foot taller than her delicate five feet. If she had to make a guess? Her whole ninety-four pounds would not be an inconvenience to him in the least. Bright green eyes rise to meet his and she smiles, softening her features from what they were a moment ago, when surprise had her in a stranglehold. She flips through the papers on her clipboard. When she speaks, there's no inherent Irish lilt, nor anything else that could point to some part of the UK or Europe. Her voice is soft as velvet, warm and inviting. "Uhm, hi. I don't suppose your part of the security for the event though, f'you don' mind me saying, you'd be a king amongst men. May I ask your name to check against the guest list? I'm afraid ya might be a little too early." Leave it to Auntie Aishling to give Beth the unenviable task of finalising details and making certain that everything is in perfect place. The elder Riley woman was hosting an international cohort of investors, many of whom were not previously known to the family. She doesn't mean to sound rude but... the man is not exactly what she was expecting and a part of her worries about getting her cellphone out and being able to reach the police if he wasn't exactly invited. For once in her life, she almost wished this was one of the Admiral's political functions, where she could almost count on secret service crawling all over the Hamptons mansion and its grounds.

[deeisace]

So this morning, cs my brain is fried in many ways,

As a companion to the Draculas of New Jersey, have all the Frankensteins of England -

First, on the very first census, of 1841, we have Jacob Frankenstein and his family, living in Liverpool -

There really wasn't much detail on early census records, and whoever's filled this in has done it a slightly odd order (dad, youngest son, mum, oldest daughter, middle son), but we see we have Jacob Frankenstein, who is a merchant, his wife Sarah, and their children Henrietty (age 5), Samuel (age 3) and Nathan (age 1 or possibly 7), and that F in the last column marks them as "born in Foreign Parts".

The house they live in, they seem to share with two other families - an English roper, his wife and four children, and an Irish tailor his wife and their servant. I imagine, if I might, that it may have been one of those tall buildings you get in the town centre occasionally, with a shop below and two or three storeys above - the tailor would have the shop and the floor above, and the one/s above that would be split between Frankenstein and Choppers (the roper)

I'm not certain, cs nothing much is certain on the 1841 census, but I think that must be the case, because there's a 1 for 1 dwelling/building, and then the families have little notch marks separating them (you can just see one above the J in Jacob there).

If we skip forward 20 years, we find them not in Liverpool, but having moved to Islington, London

A little more detail on this record - we find out that Jacob and Sarah are from Hanover, which I gather is now a part of Germany. Henrietty has anglicised her name to Harriet, and that N must be Nathan, which means he was 1 on the 1841 record. We also see Harriet was born in Yorkshire, and Nathan in Liverpool, tho I can find neither record. And that Jacob's merchant-ing is going well enough that they needn't share housing and they actually have a live-in maid!

And, there's another record to show he joined the Freemasons in about 1850, so I imagine he was doing fairly well for himself.

-

There is, at the same time as our Jacob in 1841, another J Frankenstein, but this one is an "agent" - whatever that means 180 years ago - and he lives in Stepney!

He is also "of Foreign Parts" and also in his 30s, but he is instead a lodger, with several other single German-sounding men (you can see Doctor Gotentag above him there), in the house of some laundresses (Sarah Kelly, Elizabeth Pryor, and her daughter Sarah)

I jumped forward 10 years to 1851, and couldn't confirm finding this same Frankenstein, but there are a couple of new ones -

We have Adolphus, a tailor from Breslau who is lodging in Manchester with a Polish hawker and his family

And we have Isaac, a licensed hawker - a seller of things, the type that shout you over, like a marketstall man, tho maybe without a stall - in this case, jewellery - and he lodges in Portsea/Portsmouth, with Kitty Barnard and her daughters.

-

Then, if we jump again to the 1870s, there are a great many more Frankensteins -

We have Jacob, Israel, Simon and Harris Frankenstein, who are all Polish tailors (tho sometimes the record says "Russia Poland"). Israel and Simon live in London, Whitechapel and Spitalfields respectively. Jacob is in Cheetham and Harris is in Manchester. And all their families, too.

Also in Cheetham, we find Reub and his family - I imagine he is Jacob's brother or cousin (he is also listed "Russia Poland") - he is a glazier, and his teenage sons are tailors.

Philip Frankenstein, also in Cheetham and from Poland and so likely another brother or cousin, is a waterproof manufacturer (did macks exist then?).

And Leon, who lives in Rochester, married a Kentish woman called Lydia Jolley (nee Gladdish), and he is a picture frame maker, also Polish - tho he, unlike the rest, is listed under "Poland, British Subject" - either, he lived in England most of his life and was just born in Poland (see, my John Scarth, who always listed himself as "Portugal, British Subject", and was from Orkney), or because he married an Englishwoman, I'm not sure, and he, nor the census man, are not here to quiz.

If I go any later, I imagine there'll be a great deal many more records to trawl through and I don't really want to, so I shan't.

I am mildly disappointed there are no Adam Frankensteins, tho, I did check

[princesscatherinemiddleton]

The Princess of Wales’ Stats - First Quarter

In the first three months of 2023, the Princess of Wales completed 35 engagements, averaging around 11.6 engagements a month. Her work rate was fairly steady, completing 12 engagements in both January and February and 11 in March. She also appeared in four released photos, videos, or statements in both January and March, while she did so 7 times in February - many of which were linked to the launch of her Shaping Us campaign. In January, Catherine was spotted four times. As well as this, four unusual photos of Catherine have appeared during this quarter - a photo of the Wales family at Winter Wonderland (taken in December) surfaced on January 1st, while a photo of Catherine from Halloween 2022 was released by an acquaintane a few days later. Similarly, two wedding photographs appeared - one from the wedding of Catherine's step-sister-in-law Laura Lopes and one from her brother James Middleton - both appearing to show Catherine in the background. All three months have been fairly quiet for the Princess of Wales.

Of her 27 patronages, she has visited or completed work for 5, totalling 18 engagements in total. In January, Catherine completed nine engagements on behalf of her patronages. 8 of those were for the Royal Foundation of the Prince and Princess of Wales, while the other was for the Rugby Football League. In February, two of Catherine's six patronage related engagements were for the Royal Foundation, while she also completed one apiece for the Rugby Football Union, The Irish Guards, Polar Preet's Polar Mission, and the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club. In March, four of her engagements were related to the Royal Foundation, while two more were related to The Irish Guards.

Of her 35 engagements, 16 have been solo while another 16 were when she was accompanied by her husband, the Prince of Wales. Two engagements took place with the Crown Prince and Princess of Norway, while Catherine also undertook one engagement with the wider British Royal Family - Commonwealth Observation Day.

All of her engagements have taken place in the UK, in England (31) and Wales (4). More specifically, 15* of her engagements took place in Windsor, the first time her most common UK-based engagement site has not been London. She also halso undertaken 5 engagements in London, 2 in Leeds and 2 in Cornwall. She also undertook engagements in Liverpool, Birkenhead, Luton, Surrey, Derby, Slough, Cardiff, Salisbury, Llanelli, Port Talbot, and Rhondda Cynon Taf. NOTE: A number of her engagements were meetings and could have taken place in either London or Windsor. A number of the Princess of Wales’ meetings were confirmed to take place in Windsor Castle, I will be counting these as taking place there until informed otherwise.

With the launch of the next phase of her Early Years Campaign - the Shaping Us campaign - many of her engagements have linked to the Early Years, with fourteen engagements falling in that area specifically, with another one engagement linked to mental health and one further related to children and young people. 4 of her engagements have linked to both the military and sport, while 3 engagements have been focused on diplomatic natures. Two engagements were on the theme of culture. She also undertook one engagement specifically linked to the outdoors, as well as one linked to the Commonwealth. Four of her engagements did not fit into the theme headings I have created.

Clotheswise, her most worn identified designer has once again been Alexander McQueen, followed by Burberry, LK Bennett and Roland Mouret, although she has worn sixunidentifed looks. Her most carried bag designer was Mulberry, followed by Emmy London. Her most-worn shoe designer is, again, Gianvito Rossi, althought she has worn her Blundstone shoes four times. In terms of jewellery, she has predominantly worn Shyla London pieces, although 8 of her accessories have been unidentified. or pieces inherited from the late Princess of Wales (with 5 wears each), She has also worn items from Daniella Draper and Spells of Love with 3 wears each. When it comes to hats, Catherine was seen in five hats, each made by a different milliner/brand - Inverni, Juliette Botterill, N Peal, Sean Barratt, and Jane Taylor.

[greenwayinc]

HEADCANONS, PART TWO:

🇮🇪

(God help me when I have to write part 3...)

No worries about misgendering this guy... because they don't know. They would've forgotten it long ago anyways at this point, so they just don't give a crap what gender they are.

Their name is Kelsey Windsor. It used to be Dermot Windsor but they had it legally changed.

As a human, they're a very pale-skinned person of average height(5' 9"), with curly, blondish-red hair(yes it's a weird colour, but they manage to pull off the look). And they're absolutely saturated with freckles. Everywhere you look, it's just freckles, freckles and more freckles.

Usually wears Aran knit sweaters, jeans, bomber jackets and flannel shirts. They're still living in the early to mid-2000s fashion-wise.

This motherf***er is BUILT. Seriously, they might be neutral but God almighty are they stacked. They'll be up for anything, from US-led invasions to UN peacekeeping missions. For any large military operations they usually serve with America or UK, but they're always happy to just do peacekeeping work. More about this later.

Tiny scars are dotted across their neck and shoulder. Those are the remnants of a shrapnel bomb that exploded behind them during one of his many tours in the Troubles. There's more scars from where they've been grazed by bullets, beaten by batons and worse. They wear them like bravery medals though- each scar is a sign of their continuous luck.

Speaking of luck, they HATE it if you say "luck of the Irish" in a positive light. He is extremely self-conscious of the term's origins.

Much of their history has been them trying to rebel against England, and latterly, UK. As a result their relations could be described from a historical context as "strained"(top 10 greatest understatements in history coming up). However, since the 1960s, they've gotten along with each other and have left their previous animosity behind them... for now. Brexit has not gone over well with Ireland, it must be said(!).

The Famine screwed up their body greatly- mainly, they can't eat specific foods because of the irreversible damage to their digestive system caused by hunger. Mainly, they have to stay away from most fast food and fizzy drinks(although they've never liked the former much).

But, thanks be to the Lord, alcohol is on the safe list. They've said many a time that they wouldn't know what to do were it not for Guinness. As is to be expected, they drink like there's no tomorrow. One time they got so drunk that a SWAT team had to be called to contain them. But usually it ends up in him passing out in the street or having a one night stand with some other country.

They like to travel. A lot. And I mean A LOT.

Absolutely has PTSD from the amount of wars they've been in, plus the abuse from England, etc.

Tea addict. UK's influence definitely rubbed off on them in this aspect.

Jewellery. Oh my lord the jewellery. This fucker absolutely LOVES jewellery and anything gold or silver. They have ear piercings, they've got gold necklaces, silver rings, etc. Bling is this person's passion.

Also a good singer. Has recorded a few albums, which have found rather unlikely success internationally. As a result of this they work with South Korea and Japan on music projects a lot.

The music fame has also landed them roles in a good few movies.

Was a Formula One driver for a few years during the late 1970s and early 1980s, and again in the 1990s. Surprisingly good at it, too.

Has multiple Irish wolfhounds.

If you confuse them with Ivory Coast, Italy or Mexico... well God help ya.

(related to a previous statement) They've been in the wars. Surprisingly often, as it turns out, because they were in both world wars, Iraq, Afghanistan, the Falklands, Vietnam- name a war in the past 100 years and they've probably been fighting in it at some stage.

They and Northern Ireland are estranged. They don't talk to each other WHATSOEVER.

Generally regarded as the "partier" of the EU, and has gained notoriety within the organisation for their drunken exploits.

Good friends with America, Canada, Chile, Japan, South Korea, Australia, Germany, Austria, France, Italy, Finland and Sweden. And all the ex-commie Central European countries.

Knows English, Irish, Polish, Lithuanian, Romanian, Czech, Finnish and Latvian. Currently learning Spanish so they can stop embarrassing themselves while on holiday in the Canary Islands.

In a relationship with Finland’s twin sister(will explain later). They met at a party in Helsinki back in the 1970s and have been together since.

Always has the best Halloween parties. Yes, it sounds childish, but they've been hosting those parties since the beginning of time. And everyone attends for the party, the dressing up... and the copious amounts of alcohol consumed at these events.

[psdantiques]

Early 19th C. Irish costume jewellery in the original case, pinchbect type metal and green glass to look like malachite. #jewelry #jewellery #irishjewellery #victoriajewellery #georgianjewellery https://www.instagram.com/p/CkxvOj9I-z-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[rhonddaandallaneuro]

One of the best days we have spent on the touring trail. After Allan went for an early morning walk through the local back streets, surrounding our motel he soon learnt that if you go south you are actually in the local red light district, we moved back to the city area where we caught our tour bus to visit, more closely, some of the things we had driven past yesterday.

On his walk he also came across the 7am closing of the English and Irish pubs where as he said there were over 200 drunk (very drunk) young persons standing outside trying to speak and work out how they would get home. I do not think it mattered that he did not understand what they were saying as pretty sure they had no idea what they were speaking either.

First off we did the local cruise which was great, taking us under bridges so low one could touch the bridge without standing up. The views from the water were very different from this we had visited so far. The bay area is beautiful with lots of character. From here back to the palace to see the local cathedral before deciding we should visit the old palace that belonged to King Christian IV, a man from the 1600 who loved to party and they say did for several days on end on a regular basis.

While it appeared to be just a big house once you entered you were in another world, one time forgot (or could not afford to exist within) where no expense was to great. Sheer luxury at its finest. The tapestry and paintings while stunning were simply no comparison to the collections, furniture, fittings and jewellery within which were no comparison in turn to the Crown Jewels which I believe were equal to the the English Crown jewels. Amazing. We had only planned to drop in and have a quick walk through, ending up staying for hours.

Due to this we missed seeing where Princess Mary was married but did see the city furnace which burns 65 tonnes of rubbish every hour, generating power as part of the 2025 target of being carbon neutral. This rubbish they are paid to destroy by neighbouring countries. The furnace building itself also acts as a ski slope during the winter months. The other thing we saw was the way they assist and promote market gardens (65000) in lands surrounding the industrial areas.

Probably the oddest thing we came across was “Christiania” an international commune that exists in the city and is basically inhabited by alternate life persons. They are self governing within their community without any support from the Government. It is called Copenhagen’s free town. Amazing.

As it was our last night we headed out to the local restaurant and were treated to a blend of Asian and Danish foods mixed in with some beers. We must have done a good job as they ran out of cold Tiger beer. A great day.

[cornertrust]

Growing up macklemore intro guitar

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In the autumn of 2009, Sheeran began studying music at the Academy of Contemporary Music (ACM) in Guildford, Surrey as an undergraduate at the age 18, but left without permission in the same year to support hip-hop artist Just Jack. He also opened for Nizlopi in Norwich in April 2008, after being one of their guitar technicians.

#Growing up macklemore intro guitar series

In 2008, he auditioned for the ITV series Britannia High. He moved to London in 2008 and began playing in small venues. He has been friends with fellow English singer, Passenger, since he was 15, with the two playing the same gig in Cambridge. Sheeran began recording music in 2004 and independently released his first collection of work Spinning Man. Sheeran performing at the Ipswich Arts Festival in July 2010 Sheeran is a second cousin of Northern Irish broadcaster Gordon Burns, who hosted the British game show The Krypton Factor. He is a patron of Youth Music Theatre UK (now renamed British Youth Music Theatre) and of Access to Music, where he studied Artist Development. He successfully auditioned for Youth Music Theatre UK in 2007 and joined their production of Frankenstein in Plymouth. He was accepted at the National Youth Theatre in London as a teenager. A 2004 school report described him as a "natural performer", and his classmates also voted him "most likely to be famous".

#Growing up macklemore intro guitar how to

Sheeran sang at a local church choir at the age of four, learned how to play the guitar at age eleven, and began writing songs while at Thomas Mills High School in Framlingham. His parents ran Sheeran Lock, an independent art consultancy, from 1990 to 2010. John is an art curator and lecturer, and Imogen is a culture publicist turned jewellery designer. His paternal grandparents are Irish, and Sheeran has stated that his father is from a "very large" Catholic family. Sheeran's parents, John and Imogen, are from London. He has an older brother named Matthew, who works as a composer. In December 1995 he moved with his family from Hebden Bridge to Framlingham in Suffolk. His father was a curator at Cartwright Hall in Bradford and his mother worked at Manchester City Art Gallery. His early childhood home was on Birchcliffe Road in nearby Hebden Bridge. Įdward Christopher Sheeran was born in Halifax, West Yorkshire, England on 17 February 1991. The castle and his upbringing in Framlingham is the subject of his 2017 single " Castle on the Hill". Early lifeįramlingham Castle in Sheeran's home town. An alumnus of the National Youth Theatre in London, Sheeran's acting roles include appearing in the 2019 film Yesterday. Beginning in March 2017, his ÷ Tour became the highest-grossing of all time in August 2019. Globally, Spotify named him the second most streamed artist of the decade. In December 2019, the Official Charts Company named him artist of the decade, with the most combined success in the UK album and singles charts in the 2010s. He has 84.5 million RIAA-certified units in the US, and two of his albums are in the list of the best-selling albums in UK chart history: × at number 20, and ÷ at number 34. Sheeran has sold more than 150 million records worldwide, making him one of the world's best-selling music artists. Released in 2019, his fourth studio album No.6 Collaborations Project debuted at number one in most major markets, and spawned three UK number one singles, "I Don't Care", "Beautiful People" and "Take Me Back to London". The world's best-selling artist of 2017, he was named the Global Recording Artist of the Year. His fourth single from ÷, "Perfect", reached number one in the US, Australia and the UK, where it became the Christmas number one in 2017. By March 2017, Sheeran had accumulated ten top 10 singles from ÷ on the UK Singles Chart, breaking the record for most top 10 UK singles from one album. He also became the first artist to have two songs debut in the US top 10 in the same week. The first two singles from the album, "Shape of You" and "Castle on the Hill", broke records in a number of countries by debuting in the top two positions of the charts. Sheeran's third album, ÷ (pronounced "divide"), was released in March 2017, and was the best-selling album worldwide of 2017. A single from ×, "Thinking Out Loud", earned him the 2016 Grammy Awards for Song of the Year and Best Pop Solo Performance. In the same year, × won Album of the Year at the 2015 Brit Awards, and he received the Ivor Novello Award for Songwriter of the Year from the British Academy of Songwriters, Composers and Authors. It was named the second-best-selling album worldwide of 2015. Sheeran's second studio album, × (pronounced "multiply"), was released in June 2014. In 2012, Sheeran won the Brit Awards for Best British Male Solo Artist and British Breakthrough Act. It contained his first hit single " The A Team". Sheeran's debut album, + (pronounced "plus"), was released in September 2011 and topped the UK Albums Chart.

[its-deputy-caleb]

Sean MacGuire - Proving Our Worth

im trying something really different rn and im totally out of my comfort zone but ima try and write some stuff for the other VDL gang members bc i’ve been really wanting to try for a while.

these are really general scenarios bc i wanna just get a feel of the characters so they’ve probably all been done before and poorly written but i still enjoyed writing it nonetheless.

————————————————

You and Sean had a lot in common and built a friendship very early on when you first joined the gang.

You were both young and chaotic in the best sort of way and happened to be two troublemakers. Mostly though, the two of you just wanted to prove your worth to the gang.

Being considerably younger and less experienced then some of the gang members, you were often overlooked or left behind. There were often instances where you or Sean were begging to come along to homesteads and train robberies.

“Hey MacGuire, I got a lead on a coach passing through the heartlands. Open and right for the taking, it’ll be an easy score.”

You approach Sean with a map and place it on the barrel he’s leaning against. Despite the fact that you’re both excited, your words are hushed like it’s a secret and well it kind of is. There’s no way Hosea or Arthur would let you do something so reckless on your own so for the meantime you and Sean act like children smuggling chocolates under your pillowcase.

Sean was beyond excited and got everything you needed for the incoming coach that would pass through tomorrow afternoon.

“I can’t wait to rub it in Arthur’s smug face when we stroll back in with a stack O’ cash in our hands. Finally we can prove ourselves that we belong here!”

When tomorrow afternoon arrived however, you might have miscalculated how guarded the coach was. There was four armed horsemen, two on the front and back of the coach as well as an armed guard in the passenger seat and two guns for hire in the actual carriage.

Both you and Sean grinned at each other, knowing exactly where this was going. The more guards, the more money they were carrying. You pulled your bandana over your face and clicked your heels, leading your horse into a gallop as you chased down the coach.

Bullets were flying past your head but you were a great shot, taking out the armed horsemen with ease (more like luck). Sean managed to deal with the driver and his gunmen before moving on to the guards in the carriage.

You jumped into the drivers seat, who had since fallen off and attempted to calm the horses that were undoubtedly spooked. Sean climbed up to meet you, taking his seat next to you but not for long.

Soon the coach went flying over a cliff as one of the mountains came to a halt. Luckily it was only a small drop off but it still managed for the wheels to break off and most of the carriage windows to shatter, the horses also ran off during the process.

“Jesus, wes we’re lucky there aye? Told ya that Irish luck will come in handy!”

Sean dusts the gravel from his shoulder and holds a hand out for you to pull yourself up on. Thank god you both walked away with minimal injuries.

You both make your way over to the safe box and you begin digging in your saddle bag for a lock pick. By the time you find it however, Sean has already shot the lock off.

“Okay no need to be dramatic.”

You were wrong though, dramatic was the perfect word for your next actions. Sitting in the lock box was over a thousand dollars of bonds, jewellery and cash. You both stare at it in a stunned silence before you’re jumping for joy, dancing and laughing like maniacs at the score you’ve just made.

In all the excitement you lean over and place a kiss to his cheek, smiling all the while.

“Whadya do that for?”

Sean is staring at you dumbfounded, more shocked at your kiss then he was when he saw the money. A slight blush slowly creeps to his face as he slowly realises you’ve kissed him.

“Because we did it! We finally proved ourselves to those old grumps like Morgan!”

His hand comes to touch where you kissed him, already missing it and wanting more but his eyebrow twitched in slight confusion.

“So ya kissed me because of old Morgan?”

You laugh, amused at Sean’s confused and innocent look. Leaning down, you place all the bills and jewels in your saddle bag before standing up and taking his hand in yours.

“No silly, I kissed you because you already proved yourself to me a long time ago.”

You kiss him again only this time on the lips and much gentler, more sincere before you start making your way back to the horses up on the mountain.

“Common Dead eye MacGuire, let’s go rub it to the rest of them over a bottle of whiskey!”

[evafrechette]

It’s a Match

↠ yoongi x jimin | smut | hookup au | 18+ | 3.4K

↠ Summary: Loneliness can make you do questionable things. Like signing up to a dating app to suck the cock of a stranger.

↠ Warnings: deep throating, public blowjobs, cum sharing, kind of a social media au - but not, drunk Yoongi, flirting, masturbation, gagging.

Yoongi never thought he'd be desperate enough to download the app on his phone, but here he was at 11:37 on a Friday night, finger hovering over the install button.

"Ahhh fuck it.."

He clicked and watched as the app downloaded and installed on his phone. He never thought it would get to this point. He'd been single for years. Preferring his own company, he never found it necessary to date. People annoyed him, too loud, too intrusive, too manipulative. So he remained alone. But 4 years is a long time to be on your own and he was starting to grow tired of his own hand. Plus he'd watched evey fucking video there was on his favourite porn site a year ago. That should have been the sign he needed to get laid, but his dumb ass wallowed in misery for another 12 months and that's why he's here now, creating a profile in the hopes of getting fucked this weekend.

A frown formed on Yoongi's face, he had been scrolling through profiles for the last 30 minutes and hadn't matched with anyone. He knew it was because he was being incredibly picky, swiping left on nearly every single profile he'd come across. He wasn't gonna get his dick sucked carrying on like this. He swiped left on a profile of a man in his 40s - already starting to bald, arms wrapped around a girl half his age - when his eyes landed upon the profile of a young man.

Yoongi was intrigued. The man had the prettiest face Yoongi had ever seen, beautiful plush lips pulled into a seductive smile, with his blond bangs hanging over his eyes. Yoongi clicked to view the profile in full, Jimin - the beautiful man's name was Jimin. He used emojis in his profile, which made Yoongi let out a frustrated groan. He hated emojis, too childish. He continued to read the profile and decided that the two of them were too different and even though the man was beautiful he would swipe left, like he had been all night. Maybe it was an accident or maybe Yoongi's subconscious wanted those plush lips around his cock, because instead of swiping left he swiped right.

He put the phone down and got up to make a drink. He shouldn't have a coffee this late, but apparently he was living recklessly tonight. With the steaming hot drink in his hand he climbed back onto his bed. He took a sip of the dark hot liquid when he heard the ding of a notification. He cautiously leaned over and grabbed the phone, swiping away his lock screen. He could see that he had been notified of a match, so he quickly opened the app, curious as to which one of the very small pool of men he'd swiped right on that would like him back. Yoongi could feel his cheeks starting to heat up. He didn't expect to match with the blond with the lips to die for. Not only that, but the man had messaged him too.

Yoongi couldn't tell him the truth, he WAS going to swipe left, what the fuck happened with that anyway.

Yoongi choked on his coffee, Jimin looked like an angel, but an angel wouldn't talk that way. How the hell does he respond to that? Does he even want to respond to that? He placed his coffee on the side table and dragged his hand through his hair. If he didn't take this opportunity his blue balls would actually kill him. Well fuck, his response just made him sound like the world's most pathetic asshole.

Yoongi checked the time, it was quite early in the morning now. The coffee had helped wake him up, but the prospect of meeting with the cute man had him feeling even more awake than what was humanly possible. The two of them talked for the next few hours. Sharing stories of their worst dates, childhood pets, who was more powerful Superman or Ironman and their favourite songs. Yoongi finally said goodnight and put his phone on the charger. They had agreed to met at Jimin's favourite bar the 'Hit List' at 8pm that night. Seventeen hours for Yoongi to work himself up into a worried hot ass mess. Fucking great. And yet as he stared up at the ceiling a small smile broke out on his face.

Yoongi spent his Saturday doing everything he possibly could to distract himself from his date that evening. Was it a date? Do you call meeting some random off the internet to possibly fuck a date? He was too old for this shit. He rearranged his vinyl collection, read a decent chunk of his new book and practiced a few new songs on his guitar. Once the sky had turned a beautiful shade of orange and pink Yoongi knew he had to stop stalling and get his ass ready. He took an extra long shower, debating on whether to do some manscaping (since all the young kids do it these days) before deciding not to. He liked his bush, and if pretty boy wasn't a fan well tough shit for him.

He teamed his black and white shirt with a pair of black jeans ripped at the knee, a leather jacket and finished it off with a few pieces of jewellery. With one last look in the mirror Yoongi slid his phone and wallet into the pocket of his jeans and left his apartment. Just as he stepped into the lift his phone pinged. It was a message from Jimin.

*******************

Jimin is sitting at the bar when Yoongi arrives. He's deep in conversation with the bartender, so Yoongi stands by the entrance awkwardly looking around. It's a nice place, very quiet and intimate. It's dark, a few low hanging lights scattered around and tealight candles sitting in a whisky glass on each table. To his right is a large floor to ceiling window, surrounded by a mix match of old leather chairs. There is a faint smell of smoke in the air. Oddly this smell starts to calm Yoongi down, it reminds him of his grandfather. Okay, now he's nervous again. Thinking of his grandfather at a time like this?

"I'm a fucking mess." he mutters to himself as he walks over to the bar.

"Uhh sorry to interrupt, Jimin right?"

The blond turns his head and smiles, he is really more beautiful in real life Yoongi thinks to himself. He's wearing a black shirt with one too many buttons undone, his hair parted in the middle falling gracefully to each side framing his angelic looking face.

"Mmm that's right and you are?"

Um what?! Fuck, Yoongi knew he made a mistake by coming here. Ahh fuck, why did he have to make that stupid profile? He loved Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2, he could have easily watched it 100 more times.

"Relax cutie, I'm just playing, you should have seen your face," a giggle escaped from Jimin's lips. "Nice to meet you Yoongi." he stood up and extended his hand out to shake. Yoongi quickly wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and returned the handshake. Jimin's hand was engulfed in Yoongi's. He looked down and couldn't help but smile at the scene. Jimin's hands were so petite compared to his. It was a rather lovely sight.

"Order yourself a drink and we'll go sit over there." he pointed to the leather chairs Yoongi has been eyeing up earlier. He ordered an Irish Mule for himself and a Negroni for Jimin. He carried the drinks to the table, while Jimin followed closely behind. A little too close Yoongi thought. He could smell his perfume starting to mix with the smoke smell. It was a delicious combination.

The first half an hour was straight up torture for Yoongi. Even though the two of them had spent the night messaging each other it was different once he was sitting face to face with the most stunning man in all of Seoul. Yoongi avoided eye contact, mumbled and laughed dryly at Jimin's jokes. He was well and truly fucking this entire thing up.

Jimin huffed "You don't have to stick around you know, you can leave whenever you want."

Yep. He had fucked this up.

"Uhh it's not that," Yoongi starts to bite at his thumb nail "Jimin, I'm terrible at this. People stress me the fuck out, I haven't been laid in four years, I don't like leaving my apartment, you are lovely, fantastic even and that's making me even more nervous."

Jimin played with the hoop in his ear while looking directly at Yoongi, he tilted his head to the side "How can I help you relax? I thought we clicked last night?"

They did

"I'm sorry I make you nervous, I can't help it that I'm so cute." Yoongi finally looked into Jimin's eyes and they burst into laughter.

"It's not your fault. Fuck it, I need another drink . . or five that will help." he rolled his eyes before waking back to the bar.

With a few more drinks in him Yoongi was relaxed, he could feel the whiskey warming up his body. The heat in his stomach though, he was sure that was because of the attractive man sitting in front of him. The discomfort had finally vanished and instead a mellowness had fallen over the two.

"I've always liked older men." Jimin purred, his delicate small fingers, adorned with multiple silver rings, brushing against the now half empty glass.

"Aiisshh I'm only two years older than you!" Yoongi huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, but you act like you're nearly 60.” Jimin let out a hearty laugh, his eyes turning into crescents, cheeks plump and slightly pink. He slapped the table causing their glasses to shake. Yoongi quickly grabbed his to prevent it from spilling.

"It's not that funny." he didn't want to admit it, but the blond's laugh was hypnotic, he could watch Jimin laugh for hours and never tire of it.

Jimin straightened up, fingers now tracing the rim of the glass "I bet you don't fuck like an old man though."

Yoongi gulped and looked directly into Jimin's brown eyes, gone was the playful light, it was now replaced with desperate firey lust. He knew what the outcome of this date could be, and yet he was still nervous. He could feel his heart starting to race, his breath becoming faster. "Aaahh shit" Yoongi thought to himself as his left hand started to twitch, the blond's smell - a mix of orange blossom and patchouli was becoming overwhelming, he needed to calm down, he'd cum within seconds if he didn't get his shit under control.

"Heh, well I guess you'll find out later huh?"

Jimin reached over and ran his soft fingers over Yoongi's hand, playing with the bracelets that sat around his wrist.

"Why don't I find out now?"

Yoongi's friends love roasting him for his personality change when drunk. All of a sudden the quiet reserved man becomes giggly and loud. Cracking terrible jokes and singing at the top of his lungs. Sober Yoongi would never dare dream of taking a stranger to the bathroom to jerk off. Drunk Yoongi though? Try to stop him.

"Mmm Jiminshi are you sure?”

Jimin giggled at this "You are SO cute" he continued to draw his fingers over Yoongis hands "Of course I'm sure, do you wanna go back to mine? Or we could go to yours if you're more comfortable with that..."

Without thinking Yoongi stood, grabbed the blonds arm and pulled him up. They walked towards the exit, but before descending the stairs they took a left and made their way into the restroom. Once inside Yoongi pushed Jimin against the door and started kissing at his neck. "Fuck! Jimin, there is no way in hell I can wait to get back to my place, I need to feel you now." Yoongi whispered between kisses.

Yoongi leaned down and kissed his exposed chest, thank fuck Jimin had left those top buttons open. They had been torturing Yoongi all night long, but now he was thankful for it. Jimin's skin was so soft and it faintly smelled like cherry blossom lotion but he wanted more. He was desperate for more. Jimin ran his hands through Yoongi's hair and grabbed hard. Small moans escaped his lips, which drew Yoongi even crazier. He undid the buttons on his shirt and stood back. Jimin had the body of a god. Perfectly sculptured, with beautiful brown nipples begging to be sucked on. Who was Yoongi to deny god his wish?

Jimin let out a squeak when Yoongi ran his tongue over his nipples, hungrily licking and sucking at them. His right hand found it's way to the bulge in Jimin's pants and he pressed his palm down onto it. Jimin was now starting to get louder which made Yoongi smirk, he lightly nipped on Jimin's nipple before standing up and leaning in to sloppily kiss Jimin on those perfect, perfect lips, the taste of spice and bitterness still lingering.

"Uuuhhh Hyung, please touch me."

"That's what I'm doing Jimin."

"No you asshole, I want to feel you properly, get my fucking dick out." Yoongi stopped and looked at Jimin, slightly taken back by the tone of his voice. But he just smiled back - a wicked smile.

Yoongi got onto his knees and began undoing the zip of Jimin's pants. He pulled them down to his ankles, he then drew his hands up Jimin's legs, enjoying how smooth they were. He palmed Jimin's cock through his underwear eliciting a moan from the man above him. Yoongi pressed his face into Jimin's clothed cock. He took a deep breath, Jimin smelled wicked, his arousal mixed with body lotion was rousing. He alternated between sucking and licking on the cock trapped behind Calvin Klein underwear. He repeated this action a few more times before finally removing the now very damp briefs.

Jimin wasn't the biggest cock Yoongi had ever seen, but he was thick and absolutely smooth. He stroked his long fingers over his chiseled abs, along Jimin's length and then down to his balls which he cupped in his hand, massaging back and forth. He let go and brought his hand to his mouth, running his tongue over his entire palm. It was so fucking dirty and Jimin shuddered at the sight. He reached back up and gripped Jimin's cock in his now saliva covered hand. He drew his hand up and down at a frantic pace. He was too worked up to go any slower, but Jimin didn't seem to mind by the noises he was making. Oh shit, he was being too loud now. They'd get caught and thrown out or even worse the cops called.

"Shit Jimin, you need to be quiet or someone will hear us.”

“Mmm Yoongi I don't think I can cutie, why do you think I said we should get out of here."

Yoongi huffed and slowed his hand down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jimin's briefs, so he picked them up, stood and shoved them in Jimin's mouth.

"That should shut you up.... Is that okay? I can take them out if you don't like it.”

Jimin shook his head and moaned around the underwear. His mouth was stretched open and drool already starting to pool at the corners. What a fucking beautiful thing to witness. Pleased with himself Yoongi got back on his knees and kissed the tip of Jimin's cock. His tongue played with the slit, circling it before he slowly kissed down each side of his shaft. He then licked the base to tip, never taking his eyes off Jimin's. They both looked so fucked already, pupils blown out, flushed cheeks and lips swollen from the rough kissing earlier.

He started pumping slowly, wanting to tease Jimin a little, the blond was impatient though and bucked his hips into Yoongi's fist, letting him know he wanted and desperately needed it faster. Yoongi let out a small chuckle and started to move his hand at a pace the gorgeous man would enjoy. Muffled moans of pleasure let Yoongi know he had found the magic speed. He continued like this for a few minutes before letting go and taking Jimin's cock in his mouth. Oh he tasted good - of course he did he was perfect in every way why would this be any different? Yoongi hollowed his cheeks as he bobbed up and down on Jimin's length, taking it deep before pulling up and letting go with a 'pop'.

He took hold of Jimin's cock and rubbed his lips all over the head, spreading precum all over his lips and chin. He felt like such a slut, but he was loving every moment of it. Yoongi closed his eyes and slowly buried Jimin's entire cock in his mouth until it hit the back of his throat. He moaned around the feeling, this was what he had needed. To feel stuffed by a pretty cock attached to a pretty man. Jimin was squirming above him, his panting and moans muffled by the briefs in his mouth, but there was no doubt he was in ecstasy just like the cock starved brunette. Yoongi felt petite hands fist into his hair and start pulling and pushing trying to take some control of the situation, Yoongi slowed down and allowed Jimin to start fucking into his mouth.

With each of Jimin's thrusts his grunts became louder as he was getting closer to his orgasm. Jimin wasn't the only one getting close, after having practically become a born again virgin, Yoongi's head was dizzy with arousal and he wasn't sure how much longer he would last, his grip on Jimin's thighs tightening, bound to leave light marks the next morning. He closed his eyes and could feel the heat from his stomach rise throughout his body, his muscles tensing as he felt his release. The wet patch in Yoongi's pants made him feel absolutely filthy. He came just from sucking someone's cock? Before he had too much time to start mulling over how much of a slut he is, Jimin spills his load inside Yoongi's hot mouth. He thrusts hard a few times causing the cum to spill out of Yoongi's mouth and dribble down his chin, landing on the floor.

Jimin hisses as he slowly removes himself from Yoongi's mouth, he leans down and Yoongi yanks the underwear out of his mouth before smashing his lips against the blonds. He doesn't care that his mouth is still full of Jimin's cum, he tastes so good he wants him to experience the intoxicating taste too. When their lips part Jimin stands to put his softening cock away. Yoongi stands with him and looks around the room, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm thanks for that, that was .. uhh really good."

Jimin's bewitching smile returns "Yeah, that was amazing cutie can't say I've ever had my underwear shoved into my mouth though, but there is a first time for everything. Come here and I'll treat you good too."

"Well um, no it's okay. Honestly. I may have cum already." he sheepishly replies, still avoiding any damn eye contact.

A small "oh" left his pouty lips "well I'm glad I could have been of assistance."

The two stood awkwardly for a while before Jimin held Yoongi's hand and walked him over to the sink. He made the older man sit on the bench while he cleaned up all the mess he had made. Yoongi's heart couldn't stop beating. There was no need for Jimin to be so nice after what they had just done, but here he was doing something Yoongi actually felt was more intimate than painting the walls of his throat with his cum.

"Ah there ya go, now you can go back into the real world without anyone suspecting a thing.”

They walked outside together in silence, Yoongi had never had a hook up before. Do you crack jokes? Profess your love? Or just act like what happened never did? His mind was a million miles away when soft fingers were suddenly stroking his cheek.

"Please message me anytime you want to see each other again, and I'll be the one doing all the dirty work okay?"

This made Yoongi blush "Yeah okay. Thank you Jimin, truly I had a great night."

And it was the truth, he had so much fun he could relive the moment in his head for the next four years. Amateur Bareback 3-Way #2 wouldn't be needed when the memory of small hands, captivating moans and cum drizzling down his chin was enough to get him hard again. It had been less than 20 minutes. God dammit!

[opalsiren]

some bella x emma (bemma) headcanons under the cut:

the first time they meet is in the moon pool after emma returns from her travels. bella was meeting the girls there to help with the repair effort, while emma was hoping to surprise the girls there the moment she got home. despite having only spoken the once on a skype call with dodgy signal, they recognise each other instantly. they have a 'you must be bella!' / 'you must be emma!' moment and an instant connection. the girls had given emma the bare bones of the comet eva story, but bella is the one who has to explain the full extent of the damage to the moon pool before cleo and rikki get there

lewis runs into emma and her family in the US on their travels while studying. it occurs to him at that moment that emma and bella are kindred spirits who would get on really well, and he tells her so. emma never would have guessed just how much she would grow to like bella

emma feels a little lost when she returns home with everything that's changed and all she missed out on, not to mention guilty for not being around. emma feels like cleo and rikki don't really need her anymore with bella around. conversely bella feels insecure about her place in the group when emma is welcomed back with open arms, the girls sporting their lockets again. bella feels like cleo and rikki don't need her anymore now that emma is back. they confide their fears to one another one day trying to fix the moon pool and reassure each other about their places in cleo and rikki's lives i cannot stress enough how little this ends in pointless girl rivalry

with cleo soon to study marine biology at university and rikki planning to take classes at a local college, emma feels a little lost upon returning home. she had managed to graduate high school while travelling, because of course she did, but doesn't feel college is for her right now and wants to travel some more. bella also feels lost with will away on an extended holiday with his sister and the band's imminent break-up when summer ends. they both decide to go travelling together at the end of the summer, bella insisting on emma seeing the irish sea caves, while emma knows of this gorgeous romantic little patisserie in paris she's dying to take her to

somewhere between fixing the moon pool, planning their trip, and hanging out with the others at the café, they start to catch feelings for one another. they probably start to fall at around the same time but i think bella realises her feelings first (she has known she's liked girls for a long time, whereas emma still isn't really all that comfy with the concept of fancying girls). i'm inclined to say cleo, rikki, and even lewis know that emma fancies bella before emma herself knows. bella is scared to cause a potential rift in the group but slowly starts to insert 'she' pronouns into the band's songs and even has the nerve to be a little more touchy-feely with emma than the others. emma is the stereotypical clueless sapphic who has no idea that bella is flirting with her, even after she realises she herself likes her. eventually rikki uses one of the thousand favours zane owes her to lock them in the café's storeroom and force them to admit their feelings for one another

when they start dating emma freaks out about coming out to her parents. the others reassure her that coming out may not be necessary, but emma has such a hard time lying to her parents and even told them about her tail before they went travelling. bella assures her that, if they're okay with their daughter being a mermaid, they should be okay with her being gay, promising to be as involved as emma wants. in the end the coming out is out of her hands: elliot catches a vibe between emma and bella and essentially tells their parents to stage a family meeting to show her they love and support her no matter who she dates. the meeting itself is long and filled with happy tears and lots of hugs. they are completely accepting of her sexuality and basically treat bella like another member of the family. elliot starts a gsa at school and the whole family go to pride events together every june. bella, not close with nor out to her parents, is overwhelmingly grateful and jokes about taking emma's last name when they get married

emma and bella are quite different on the surface, but ultimately bring out the best in one another. bella is the zen member of the group and gets super into yoga and meditation. she helps emma deal with her anxiety and lets her know that it's okay to just be, that she doesn't have to perform to high standards of perfectionism all the time. emma is for sure the extrovert of the relationship and helps to bring bella out of her shell when she wants to retreat into shyness, allowing her confidence and assertiveness to flourish. when emma is quick to anger, bella calms. when bella doubts her worth, emma reminds her just how valuable she is. they are both deeply warm, empathetic, and compassionate people who are loyal to a fault, and these traits only grow the longer they are together

rikki likes to take credit for their entire relationship for the stunt at the storeroom, while lewis is certain he is responsible since he told emma that she would like bella. cleo claims that, if she never got into zane's zodiac all those years ago they never would have become mermaids together, therefore she should be credited for emma and bella's entire relationship. chaos ensues

during their extended world tour, they find half a dozen other moon pools and meet ten or fifteen other mermaids. with consent they send their details on to the others back home in the hopes of gaining further understanding around magic and mermaids

bella uses her gifts to make emma lots and lots of jewellery. in the early stages of their relationship she can be found proudly wearing a dozen or so different bracelets, necklaces, and anklets at any given time. for their first anniversary bella makes her a rose made of crystal from the water in the moon pool

emma doesn't have the same sense of creativity as bella, but years of taking elliot to oboe practice, reading music theory for fun, and even her grasp of english grammar conventions helps her to help bella write songs. if bella is stuck on a particular line or needs a second pair of ears, emma is the first person she goes to with her problem. when the record deals start flooding in, emma also helps to decode the legal jargon and acts as her manager until a more permanent replacement can be found

bella is lowkey obsessed with emma's mum's extensive crystal ware collection. she likes to make one-of-a-kind, totally unique crystal sculptures for her using her powers. it takes mrs. gilbert a little while to make the connection

when emma starts to study medicine and bella goes on tour, they have to do long distance for a little while. long distance with a mermaid's tail isn't quite so bad, though, as they frequently meet in the middle of the ocean to spend time together between more land-oriented visits

both emma and bella are deeply connected to the environment. when emma is a little older with an established medical practice she uses her money and connections to campaign for environmental protections. when bella gains success as an artist she, too, uses her platform to promote environmental awareness, LGBT rights, women's rights, and a whole host of other issues

they propose to each other at the same time, out for dinner near the marina. right as bella presents emma with the diamond ring elliot helped her pick out, a clumsy waiter spills a jug of water, and bella has to leg it to the water so as not to expose the secret. emma finds her crestfallen at the moon pool and quickly surfaces to console her, revealing the moonstone ring she’s had hidden behind the rocks for weeks. suffice to say, they said yes

despite her best efforts, emma never really got over having to abandon her swimming aspirations due to her tail. similarly a part of bella always mourned the childhood she never got to have since she became a mermaid, nor any chance of a relationship with her family. in the end they are both able to make peace with their fate: it brought them to each other

(bonus: shameless self plug of my bella x emma oneshot aka the only bemma fic in existence. god bless)

[corkcitylibraries]

Cork History | With Love from Cork

by Michael Lenihan

It is widely accepted that the Christian church decided to place St. Valentine’s feast day in the middle of February in an effort to “Christianise” the pagan celebration of Lupercalia. Celebrated on February 15, Lupercalia was a fertility festival dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big urn. The city’s bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. These matches often ended in marriage. The Catholic Church recognises at least three different saints named Valentine or Valentinus, all of whom were martyred. John Sprat was an Irish Carmelite Friar and well-known preacher.  He visited Rome, where he received a relic of Saint Valentine from Pope Gregory XVI, and Sprat brought the Reliquary containing the relics to his Whitefriar Street Church in Dublin where it remains to this day.

In France and England February 14 was assumed to be the beginning of the birds mating season, which added to the idea that Valentine’s Day should be a day for romance. The English poet Geoffrey Chaucer was the first to record St. Valentine’s Day as a day of romantic celebration in his 1375 poem “Parliament of Foules,” writing, “For this was Seynt on Valentyne’s day / Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate.” Valentine greetings were popular as far back as the Middle Ages, although written Valentines didn’t begin to appear until around 1400. The oldest known valentine still in existence  was a poem written in 1415 by Charles, Duke of Orleans to his wife while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London following his capture at the Battle of Agincourt.

In America the exchanging of hand-made valentines became very popular in the early 1700s and some wonderful early English examples exist in the Victoria & Albert Museum. By the middle of the 1800s, it was common for friends and lovers of all social classes to exchange small tokens of affection or handwritten notes, and by 1900 printed cards began to replace handwritten letters due to advances in printing technology. Ready-made cards were an easy way for people to express their emotions in a time when direct expression of one’s feelings was discouraged. An explosion of  affection in the form of Valentine cards made its way through the postal system thanks to the introduction of the penny post by Rowland Hill on 10 January1840.

Corkonians were quick to respond to cupid’s arrow and some Victorian advertisements by W. Wheeler Junior give us examples of his high-class stock of Valentine’s Day gifts. Valentines in boxes, from 3d. to £1 15s 03d containing solid silver jewellery, perfume, bottles, cards, cigar, and cigarette cases could be had from his premises at 4 & 5 Patrick Street. Another advertiser proclaimed that there was no charge for love notes to purchasers of Valentines at sixpence and upwards. Valentine novelties such as hummingbird Valentines were very popular shop window displays. W.J. Murray of George’s Street (now Oliver Plunkett Street) was doing a brisk trade in Valentine cards including those of the sentimental, poetic, refined and comic variety which could be posted nationwide post free.

The bard himself William Shakespeare mentions Saint Valentine's Day in A Midsummer Night's Dream (4.1.145) and in Hamlet, where he alludes to the superstition that if two single people meet on the morning of Saint Valentine's Day they will likely get married:

Tomorrow is St. Valentine’s Day

All in the morning betime

And I a maid at your window,

To be your Valentine.

Today, St. Valentine’s Day has become a much more commercial proposition. Bouquets of red roses, magnums of champagne, handmade chocolate, cuddly toys, organic candles, jewellery and of course the romantic candlelit meal are now standard fare. Well after all love is in the air so why not spice up your life with a little bit of romance.

[dresslikeaprincess]

The Duchess of Cambridge’s gold necklace → Worn to meet parents involved in peer support programmes, 22nd September 2020

Where? While the UK was still on lockdown, the Duchess of Cambridge visited Battersea Park to meet with parents and volunteers involved in peer support programmes. In particular Kate met with new parents and their babies to speak about the challenges of lockdown parenting.

What she wore: This post is all about Kate's necklace from Irish jewellery brand All the Falling Stars. The owner confirmed that they had gifted the necklace and accompanying earrings to the Duchess as part of her official tour to Ireland in early 2020. The necklace features three disks with the initials of the three Cambridge children and the personalised touch seems to have won the Duchess over as she has worn it several times. It retails currently in the personalised form for £120.66 ($168).

Copycat: We have a very special post today because we actually have a way to get the same piece Kate wore - and you can get it for just £5 ($7). My dear friend @princesscatherinemiddleton is running a fundraiser for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge's 10th wedding anniversary and as part of that is hosting a prize draw. There are tons of exciting prices on offer but the star is definitely the necklace and earrings worn by the Duchess, kindly donated by All the Falling Stars. You can even get the pieces personalised like Kate! You can enter the prize draw for £5 per ticket which means you could end up securing this £120 necklace for 95% less than the retail price! Snap up your tickets here.

[veterveter]

hi pls do berlermo wrong number au thank u

send me a (horribly cliched) au + a pairing for a drabble/ficlet/fic!

So I did one of these (it's here) but since this ask was so nice and polite, I thought I'd give you one I wrote before that one and left to rot in my files. It's very short and stuff but I hope it'll amuse you.

__________

“Pray the policia gets to you first. Because I will murder you. Consider this your final warning.”

Martín blinked a couple of times in the darkness. What time was it, even? He was in his bed, so he presumed it was night. Why had he even answered the phone? Was it some kind of an automatic customer service response? What had he said? Welcome to Starbucks. My name is Martín, how can I help you?

“I never even received a first warning,” he argued unintelligently, “Who the fuck are you? It’s—” He held the phone away from his face to check the time, but the screen was too bright, and he gave up immediately. “—nighttime.”

There was a long silence at the other end of the line. Martín thought about his early morning shift, and how he would definitely not be able to get back to sleep again. His life felt absolutely stellar, in that moment.

Through the phone, he finally heard some rustling.

“I seem to have called the wrong number,” the stranger said at last, evenly. “Apologies.” He didn’t sound apologetic.

The wrong number? Of course. But if something remotely interesting had to happen in Martín’s life only because some fucker had called the wrong number in the dead of night, he would take it.

“Whom do you even want to kill, and why?”

“My partner.” The man had a castellano accent, and it amused Martín. He was probably a gallego – they all were, after all.

“Your girlfriend?” Domestic violence. How charming.

He scoffed. “No, my partner in crime. We robbed a jewellery store, and he ratted me out.”

“Hijo de puta,” Martín agreed automatically, but then the words started to register, one by one. They made Martín perk up, and he rolled over to prop himself on his elbows. “A robbery, hm? Sounds like you could use a new partner.”

“Are you offering?” He sounded amused, and Martín could work with that. He could be funny and charming. If he never had to make another grande macchiato with coconut milk and an extra pump of caramel, he could do anything. He was awful at his job, anyway. He yelled at customers often.

“I absolutely am.”

“Well, if you’re serious about that,” the man said, with an audible smile in his voice, “Meet me at the Irish bar near Universidad de Belgrano.”

“That’s—” on the other side of Buenos fucking Aires, Martín was about to say, and my bed is much more comfortable.

“Thirty minutes. Don’t be late.

The call disconnected, and Martín finally squinted at his phone. The time was 4:56. It had been an unknown number, apparently. Of course it had been.

Martín hopped to his feet.

He didn’t know it yet, but Andrés de Fonollosa’s face was currently being plastered on every street corner, his name read out in every news broadcast, the details of his crime listed at length.

It had most decidedly not been a mere robbery of a jewellery store.