#Donegal is lovely by the way

[writefightandflightclub]

Miguel’s half Irish, right? Can someone write him going on holiday to like, Donegal, or something? I think the Wild Atlantic Way would really calm him down. Also, zero very tall buildings, so he wouldn’t be able to get into much spider trouble.

[urgothgfsbeltchain]

“I might float,

for a second,

through the shadows of my reason.

for my own, my own children

on the rainbow,

above the ocean.”

[thethirdromana]

I finished watching Crá yesterday and now I need to try to persuade as much of tumblr as possible to watch it too.

It's an Irish-language murder mystery TV series set in Donegal, though it's subtitled in English, so you don't need Irish to follow it. It's not a cheerful series - Crá translates to torment - and nearly every single character is in some way corrupt, compromised or morally grey. But it's extremely well-produced, it's gripping, it has an utterly stunning soundtrack (by a Breton composer!) and it's visually gorgeous:

This is the first ever Irish-language TV show to get a primetime slot in Northern Ireland. And I would utterly love for the BBC to invest in more of this kind of thing (it's a BBC/TG4 coproduction). So if this sounds like something you'd be interested in, please help make it a success!

[handweavers]

i have an immense fondness for interfaith dialogue and particularly in finding common ideas and vocabulary across religious and cultural practices, i think especially due to having been raised in an interfaith and multicultural/multinational family where reaching across this seeming 'divide' to shared experience and understanding is a daily and necessary act of love.

my babaji (my paternal grandfather) was born in 1917 in a small town in negeri sembilan, malaysia, orphaned at a young age and worked as a child labourer on a palm oil plantation, and by the end of his life he was a respected gyani who did a phd in sikh theology and accrued an extensive library on sikhi, and was renown in our community for his knowledge of not just sikhi but many religions (aside from his primary career as a lawyer)

my other grandfather, my poppy, was born and raised in donegal, ireland in the 1930s and the only way he received an education was due to a sponsorship by an anglican protestant clergyman who hosted him, even though he wasn't from a religious family, and as a result he became intensely protestant and equally conservative. but after my parents married and my mom moved to malaysia, my grandfathers met and they quickly developed a great respect for each other. they would sit and debate theology, and poppy was impressed by babaji's knowledge of christian scripture and in turn learned a lot about sikhi from him. poppy was enchanted by babaji, and to this day (he's 93 and with dementia) he still speaks of him highly, and remembers their conversations late into the night regarding religion.

i never met babaji, unfortunately he passed away a couple years before i was born, and i've always felt that loss profoundly. all of my cousins are much older than me and have strong memories of him, and i'm the only grandchild who never got to meet him. malaysia outlawed the traditional sikh practice of cremation by funeral pyre, but i've been told that they made an exception for him, but i don't know if that is true. i've been told that thousands attended his funeral, but i don't know if that is true either. but once my cousin had a vision of him holding me as a baby under the mango trees in the yard, and i like to think of a world where that might have happened. and i like to think of a world where i got to sit with him the way my poppy did all those years ago and talk deep into the night about these things we both think so much about.

[aikoiya]

LoZ - Ordon Is The Rural Ireland Of Hyrule

Like, I need everyone to fully comprehend what this means for our wolfboy, okay.

Now, to start off, I sort of see an Ordonian accent being something of an odd hybrid of a (more clear) Donegal Irish accent & a southern American drawl. (If anyone knows how that would actually sound, I'd love to hear it.)

But their native language would be mostly Gaelic with a bit of Welsh mixed in.

But, yes, Twi is normally the absolute picture of gentlemanly American south manners. Just humble, casual chivalry in a stetson. All "sir" & "ma'am" & "darlin'" & "please" & "thank you, miss." He is THE good ol', down home country boy.

But...

But, then you listen to him speak around his fellow Ordonians. And, unless you know the language, you'd assume that what he's saying is lighthearted ribbing & it is...

To an Ordonian...

But, Ordonians have one of the most expansive lists of colorful, absolutely slandrous, & surprisingly accurate insults in all of Hyrule.

Like, you wouldn't expect it, but he could cuss a pirate to blush... And could probably drink them under the table too, now that I think about it...

Now, most of it is lighthearted, but whoo! A lot of it is also very visual & just leaves you gaping in shock!! Especially if you know what it means!!!

I am literally breathless as I type this! 😆

Like, the dichotomy I now have of this boy in my head... I just, I hadn't realized how much I wanted it, but I do now.

Like, I now want fanart of Twi just Irish cussing the fudge outta Ganondorf & rendering him utterly speechless! That... or drinkin' him under the table. Whichever comes first.

That would make my day!

I am basically imagining him as the very essence of "do no harm, take no shit."

I also see him, when at the end of his rope, maybe when all the others are arguing around him. To put an end to it, he'll yell something, followed by "Go raibh míle maith agat," which is an Irish blessing that expresses great appreciation & means "May a thousand good things be upon you." However, depending on how it's used, it can either be the legitimate blessing that you expect or a way to put an immediate end to a discussion. Like, "Thank you very much!"

LoZ Linked Universe Masterlist

[verdemoun]

DO THE PEOPLE SEANS SURROUNDED WITH NOW IN YOUR TIMEWARP AU LET HIM TALK ABOUT HIS DA???

YES BUT SAD

hosea and bessie are basically providing the nuclear family dynamic that NONE of the boys got to experience and it's super wholesome and sweet but also the guilt lenny sean and kieran would all feel because of it.

on one hand are they disrespecting their parents' memories by having that familial affection towards hosea and bessie? on the other does it make them ungrateful for how hard they're trying to make sure they're comfortable and cared for so they can have another chance at life?

but bessie and hosea would love hearing them talk about their parents so affectionately because seeing them laugh over happy things in their childhood is such a necessary reminder their poor boys aren't just bundles of trauma and maladaptive behavior

it would start as such an offhanded thing like kieran is making soda bread and sean would say he's doing it wrong. the audacity devolves into the great irish bake-off of mammy's soda bread vs da's soda bread with lenny supervising because there's knives in the kitchen and this could very quickly turn into civil war or homicide.

in bake-off style they start getting all nostalgic and talking about when their parents taught them to make it. sean's gets to laugh about his bizarre childhood as the son of an activist/outlaw meanwhile kieran has no memories of ireland so he's asking questions and really curious.

they end up making enough soda bread to feed 20 people and hosea is mildly annoyed they didn't decide to do this in 1899 when there was actually 20 people to feed.

it becomes a regular thing for any of them to mention their parents esp sean because he fucking loves talking about his da and how cool he was

the whiplash bessie gets when she hears one of da's famous quotes and realises 'da' is darragh macguire. one day she sits sean down to talk about his da and explains he's remembered as a folk hero and it's public knowledge he was unjustly murdered by the british government. their house in donegal became a museum and looks exactly the way sean remembers it. bessie even managed to find some prints from his days as a political activist and sean gets to have a picture of his da.

[saintsenara]

Not from the ask list but the characters in ur fics as Irish counties and why?

anon, this has absolutely sent me. i have genuinely never seen something more up my alley.

let's start with characters we can pull from the series for ireland's six superior counties, shall we...

antrim = oliver wood

a county full of lads who've never met a spivvy tracksuit they don't think is the height of fashion, and who have a vastly inflated sense of their success at sports.

armagh = tom riddle

armagh has a [deservedly] bloody reputation. he could settle down in the murder triangle. he'd like that.

down = draco malfoy

people who live in co. down really like thinking they're better than the rest of us just because it's easy for them to get to belfast [lads, how's that something to boast about?], so they have to be the series' whiniest flop.

fermanagh = rubeus hagrid

fermanagh is full of docile lads who build things, in my experience.

londonderry = ron weasley

canonically gorgeous, gorgeous girlies live in this fine county - by which i mean, of course, that i do. we deserve to be represented by the series' most gorgeous girly. and a ginger sweetheart with six siblings [so you know which side of the sectarian divide his parents are on...] would go down a storm with our mams.

tyrone = harry potter

my brother once had his nose broken in a pub in strabane, which doesn't sound particularly interesting until you realise that my brother is a priest. by which i mean - a county filled with people who are reckless, quick-tempered, and always ready to throw hands? it can only be represented by one man...

---

and then the rest...

carlow = quirinus quirrell

the most interesting thing there is a big rock.

cavan = percy weasley

everyone i've ever met from cavan has been really boring and really tight. so there's that.

clare = ginny weasley

because it's gorgeous, in a not like other girls way.

cork = albus dumbledore

look at this canon line and tell me dumbledore's not a cork man... "In fact, being — forgive me — rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.” 

donegal = sybill trelawney

always away with the fairies up there... and always drunk too.

dublin = walburga black

everyone you've ever met who lives in dublin is genuinely shocked to discover that the rest of the world exists beyond the m50. it's not not giving "has never set foot in muggle london and would die before she did".

galway = arthur and molly weasley

galway is the home of the nation's sophisticated [and, apparently, sexually adventurous] culchies - which fits two people from clearly quite distinguished backgrounds who nonetheless live the way they do...

kerry = gilderoy lockhart

you will never see american tourists get scammed more glamorously than in kerry.

kildare = regulus black

considerably less interesting than - and devoid of identity in comparison to - its neighbour, dublin.

kilkenny = charlie weasley

all they do is have red hair and hurl.

laois = daphne greengrass

on account of her irrelevance.

leitrim = sally-ann perks

on account of her irrelevance.

limerick = bellatrix lestrange

limerick used to be known as "stab city". she'd fit right in.

longford = mungundus fletcher

gombeen men abound.

louth = myrtle warren

because they [by which i mean the two people i know who were born there...] are always fucking moaning.

mayo = remus lupin

perpetually mopey, unless they reckon they're great at something.

meath = cormac mclaggen

they wish they were as class as the lads in dublin.

monaghan = cuthbert binns

genuinely couldn't locate it on a map.

offaly = grawp

i mean, who fucking knows? the entire place is a bog.

roscommon = aberforth dumbledore

you can guess why...

sligo = fred and george weasley

wheeler dealers, the lot of them.

tipperary = fleur delacour

the home of gorgeous, gorgeous girlies with striking accents.

waterford = dobby

they love a good strike.

westmeath = hermione granger

not somewhere you'd expect you'd choose to live if you were a bit of a know-it-all. and yet.

wexford = neville longbottom

they love to bang on about the soil.

wicklow = marge dursley

she drives a range rover and looks down on anyone who farms, change my mind.

[other answers from this ask game]

[elaho]

A preview of my new cultural mod -- Elaho's Cultural Flower Dance! It's almost ready to go, so keep your eyes peeled!

Willy

Willy's background was very easy to pick. He has a strong Irish brogue (accent), wears a traditional Kerry cap, smokes a traditional clay pipe (Dúidín), and has a deep love of the ocean and fishing. It would make total sense for Willy to be from Ireland, or at the very least, closely connected to his Irish heritage. 

County Donegal was chosen for Willy due to its strong maritime fishing tradition, harsh rugged coastline, and proximity to the ocean. I've chosen the clan name/surname "McGinley" for Willy (William McGinley) as the people of the McGinley Clan have often made an impact in the world in a quiet, unassuming, laid-back way -- very much like Willy has for the player and community of Pelican Town. 

Outfit and Flowers

Willy is wearing a traditional County Donegal Irish tartan in the Great Kilt style along with a blue Tam cap. The Donegal Tartan was also chosen for Willy because of the blue colour within the tartan pattern (in honour of the traditional blue Flower Dance suit).

He's also wearing the national flower of Ireland (Shamrock/Clover), which has been paired with Baby's Breath (Gypsophila) and blue Hyacinth. 

[duffylin]

the chicago resident, doreen “duffy” lin, was heard blaring don’t delete the kisses / wolf alice this morning . the twenty six year old is a bartender / veterinary student in the city & has lived the west tower for nine months. since being here, they have been told to be stubborn, but also devoted, i guess we'll find out soon !

tw: parental death

BASICS.

name: doreen 'duffy' lin.

nickname: duffy. duff. dove. anything except doreen. whos that? don't know her.

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she / her.

age: 26.

date of birth: november 25th

place of birth: donegal, ireland.

spoken languages: english, cantonese, irish.

occupation: bartender / veterinary student.

education: zoology degree, currently a grad student

romantic orientation: bisexual.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

relationship status: single.

FAMILY.

parents: enya lin (50), flynn duffy (deceased).

siblings: daria lin (23), julian (half brother), some ex step-siblings.

maternal extended: sylvie lin (aunt), sebastian jelley (uncle-in-law), joy jelley (cousin), leo jelley (cousin), connor jelley (cousin).

paternal extended: ciaran duffy (uncle), maeve duffy (aunt) + cousins, doreen duffy (grandmother), keith duffy (grandmother).

pets: juzi + dubh (her two cats) - would love more.

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: havana rose liu.

accent: mix between a donegal + dublin accent, softened since moving to the states

height: 5'5.

build: slim, muscular.

eye colour: jade green

hair: reddish - brown, wavy and cascading down to her back. very rarely puts it up outside of work.

tattoos: a couple scattered about.

piercings: ears.

distinctive features: freckles across her cheeks, more noticeable in the summer.

BACKGROUND.

star crossed lovers are often bound by tragedy. and, enya lin and flynn duffy were no exception. from the moment the lin family moved in across the duffy's, flynn was smitten. enya was utterly oblivious to his affection, but they quickly became inseparable friends. they always seemed to find their way back to each other, even after endless ups and downs. it wasn't until university that enya reciprocated his feelings, following a string of toxic relationships. but, once all their cards were on the table, that was it.  

marriage was never in their plans. it was one of the many things they always agreed on; money was better spent on their future. instead, they opened a small music venue in the heart of donegal. it was something they'd always talked about, but never imagined actually going.

a year after opening, enya discovered she was pregnant. her family were far more enthusiastic about the prospect than flynn's. his mother was still in hysterics over their decision not to marry, but mellowed after she found out the child was named after her. they welcomed doreen lin nine months later.

donegal is where she spent the three years of her life, surrounded by people who loved her. it's all a blur to her now, a distant memory, but they were some of the best days of her life. she was a tad spoilt, both sides of her family were to blame for that, and she adored being in nature. she was always bringing home little 'gifts' for the family, which typically included a newt or mouse or whatever little critter she stumbled on.

a trip to dublin is where disaster struck. since it's inception, the business had been thriving and they were even talking about expanding elsewhere in the country. flynn had gone down to meet an old university friend about potentially helming a new venue for them in the city. everything had been going smoothly until a wayward driver crashed into their car. a few hours later enya received the call that would change everything.

flynn's death broken enya - her mind, her soul, anything that held so tightly together by his presence shattered in an instance. he was her soulmate, a ribbon sewn into her very being that was slowly being undone and thrown into an abyss so dark it nearly consumed her. a darkness save one for one small light - doreen. so much of him was in her, so much that it almost pained her to look, and yet she couldn't look away. everything he had left, he'd left in her, from the locks he'd sworn weren't really ginger to the freckles that danced across her cheeks and impossibly emerald eyes.

to then discover she had a second child on the way, she would have burst into flames if it wasn't for her family. her younger sister was born, and the world became even heavier. she was named her daria, after the titular character, and she grew to be very much like her namesake as she got older.

for enya the business, as important as it had been to her, became background noise. it was now a painful reminder of everything she had accomplished with flynn, one she couldn't bare for much longer. she tried to keep afloat, for those around her and herself, but she was starting to drown. so, she sold up. she'd always hoped that the venue would stay as it was, but not long after she'd heard it'd been turned into some worker men's club.

duffy, as she now went by, was five years old when her mother packed up their stuff and moved them to dublin. her jobs frequently changed, so they often found themselves moving from town to city - it was a rather nomadic childhood from then. it was just the three of them, and it was perfect. until her mother had to ruin it by dating again. men that would steal all their money and leave them penniless, or would just treat them both like garbage. or worst of all, try and act like her dad. there was the rare instance of a good one slipping through the cracks, but they didn't last long.

she was fifteen when the promise of a job brought them to new york. her aunt, sylvia, had moved there to start up a magazine, and needed some help getting it off the ground. it was the change they needed. the three of them got a small apartment and settled into life there. the work paid enough to cover cost of the apartment, but to support themselves better, duffy ended up getting a job at the local zoo where she found her passion for animals grew.

duffy planned to go to university in new york, study zoology and stay home to save on accommodation (and because she'd miss them too much). after that, get a job working in animal rescue and get a place close by. the plan changed when her mother got married, which had come as an absolute shock. her mother had always been so anti--marriage and she just assumed dale was another failed relationship waiting to happen. when she'd been told of their engagement, she almost laughed. surely, he must have pushed her into it, she always thought - he always seemed like a walking pile of red flags to her. kids included. and, now she had a new baby brother. it was like a fever dream.

after graduating, she and her sister got a place together and she started working back at the zoo. finding rescue shelter jobs that weren't volunteer was extremely difficult, and as much as she wanted to take a step away from that area of the animal industry, she needed the money. so she decided to go to save up and go to veterinary school. chicago seemed like a viable option - it did help that her mother had just relocated there with her husband.

being near her mother again, it was like coming home. being near her step-dad, was not. they often clashed when she visited on weekends. and she always picked up on little things he did, and the way her mum changed around him. not a good change. and it wasn't just her noticing this, but her sister, and even enya herself - despite getting defensive when anyone said anything remotely close to the subject. but, she couldn't lie to herself. she was unhappy. she wasn't herself. his children hated her. her children weren't fond of him.

after one fateful chat (after one too many wines) with duffy and her sister, they all came to the conclusion that the reason she wasn't happy in many of her relationships was because she was gay. it was a truth accepted so easily, just like she had accepted duffy all those years ago. and, it explained so much, but it didn't change the love she had for a number of men in her life, including duffy's father - it was just not quite the love she thought.

both duffy and daria pushed their mother to tell dale. he may have been an absolute leech with terrible children, but surely he'd be understand. and in truth, duffy would never forgive her mother for not being true to herself. they had not expected dale to explode the way he had. he felt lied to, is something he kept repeating. the divorce, still ongoing, has been messy to say the least. mostly the custody of duffy's little brother.

nine months ago, duffy moved in with her enya at marina towers to support her through the divorce. it also happened to coincide with duffy's eviction notice after their partner destroyed their apartment during a party whilst she was away, not that she's going to let anyone know that. it's not something that she needs people worrying about. she recently got a job bartending to help out with extra cash on the weekends, whilst trying not to worry about what she's going to do after graduating in a couple years. she's doing too much, and it's starting to take a toll - she's trying not to let the cracks show.

PERONSALITY.

duffy, for as long as anyone can remember, has always been a devoted daughter and friend - to the point of perhaps being overbearing, especially in regards her family. she would drop anything for the people she cares about, even if it means sometimes neglecting her own needs. though, that can be a good excuse for ignoring problems in her own life, like breakups. why deal with your own problems, when you can deal with others? she's always fine even when she isn't basically. she's got a habit of putting way too much on her plate. working, studying, taking care of her family, trying to juggle a social life. she has a schedule and she likes to stick to it to manage it all, but lately it's becoming too much even for her. she's quite good at hiding her struggles but she's not been great - sleeping late, waking early. deep down, she doesn't know how much longer she can keep this up. she's outgoing but burns out after a while. she's always needed quite time, but she's been needing it more lately - just a place to escape, even if it means just sitting in silence with someone. her room is an organised mess which she prefers, so people touching her things is a no. if she believes she's right, it will take a lot of convincing to change her opinion.

MISC.

she wants to open her own veterinary clinic or go work as a nature reserve after graduating. she hasn't made her mind up yet.

has 2 cats, dubh and juzi.

she and her family travel to ireland twice a year. on her dad's birthday and the anniversary of his death. her mother had to skip his last birthday because of dale. boo. we hate dale.

lactose intolerant queen

hates to shop at lush in person - it's so utterly overwhelming in there for her so she just avoids it at all cost, which really sucks cause she loves their bath bombs.

barely ever sleeps and then wakes up super early - either from working late on weekends or studying late - it's starting to have a massive effect but she refuses to believe it and would rather people didn't worry. coffee / redbull fuels her at this point.

really wants to live on a houseboat like she did briefly as a kid.

became vegetarian after watching a documentary when she was eleven.

grows herbs and veg on the balcony of their apartment. she thought it'd be a good idea for her and her mother to do together when she's not working or studying.

pinterest (will add link soon)

WANTED CON.

mother dearest! - she and her mum are insanely close. and i'm going to be putting a wc out for her.

ex (really bad) - she's had two recent break ups. she got out of a relationship around the time she moved in with her mother. quite a bad breakup. the person they were dating had a party whilst they were away and pretty much destroyed their place and led to them getting evicted - she's avoided mentioning this to her mother for nine months.

ex (sorta bad) - this was in the last nine months, but quite short relationship. it ended because she wasn't investing enough into the relationship. they had a blast together, but they noticed she'd been putting to much on her plate with her family and school and work, and neglecting what they had as a result.

friends! i would love her to have some friends. whether that's surface level that she just sees around the building or something deeper. her mother is quite affable, so maybe people who she's met through her.

people who come into the bar she works at on weekends

friends to lovers - i'm a sucker for it. like, so much. her mother always taught her the basis for love should be friendship - not that she ever set a great example with that her dad.

if i think of anything else, i'll add it, but honestly, i'm down to listen to anyone else's ideas too!

[nikolai-alexi]

Fifty Kilos of Glitter and a Way Out

This is a mini fic for the lovely @swag696942069 who came up with the concept of Tillie Finnegan, Seamus Finnegan’s mam, and I fell head over heels in love with the idea of her, so I wrote a lil fic for her. Swag, I hope I did Tillie some kind of justice, I love this little menace to society and I really want to play with her character more in the future

CWs: I actually don’t think there’s any?? (Wow yes I know shocker I never managed to write things without heavy CWs so this is a first). There’s mention of magical surrogacy. There’s an overview of the War, but no graphic details of anything. Lots of mentions of bombs/bomb materials. Oh shit wait, glancing description of arson and murder, too, but not with a bomb.

I absolutely did not proof read this, it’s 0100 and I have to be up for work in 3 hours so forgive me for any mistakes. And the line breaks wouldn’t format right on mobile so I gave up. Also, I know “dwt” is a Welsh word, but I couldn’t find an Irish equivalent, so I said fuck it.

Dwt - of a person, someone small or dinky

WC: 4600 words, average read time 35 minutes

Regulus Black is not someone people accidentally bump into, or stumble into, or any other manner of unintentional irritation. He knows this, because he’s hexed people for far less than an unintentional bump in the corridor. People stay far away from him, unless you were Evan, Pandora, Barty, or Dorcas, you made sure you gave him a wide berth. His lack of patience and temper with others has only gotten worse since the summer hols.

Which is why, he thinks, it’s so surprising when someone, who is definitely not any of the aforementioned people, slumps down at his table in the library unceremoniously, and tosses her feet onto the chair beside her. He raises his head from his textbooks and parchments slowly, and blinks owlishly at her. He can’t hide his surprise at the sheer amount of audacity she has. He’s seen her around, knows she’s a Hufflepuff in his year, but she’s not a Prefect so he has no idea what her name is.

“Can I help you?” He sneers. She doesn’t even blink from the venom in his voice. Her head is tilted just a bit to the side and her blue eyes look massive from behind her specs, he can see the thickness of the lens protruding from the wire frames, and, if he’s being honest, it kind of unnerves him.

It’s like she seems to sense that he feels very off-kilter from her sudden appearance and lack of response, and nods strongly once, “Tillie Finnegan, pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Regulus Black. I need your help.” Her words are formal, but her thick, Donegal accent, made the words sound anything but.

Regulus snorts and turns back to his textbooks with a nasty grin, “Bugger off then, you won’t find it here,”

Finnegan laughs, and it sounds like a strange mixture of gulls and bells, “Aye, mightn’t be so hasty when I tell you what I’ve got to offer you,”

He snaps his gaze to her, all but snarling, but stops short when he sees her twirling a very familiar gold chain around her fingers. She smirks as the colour leaves his face entirely.

“Where did you get that,” he tries keeping his voice neutral, but he knows his body language is tense, ready to swipe the necklace out of her hands at the first given opportunity. It betrays him.

She tsks softly, “Not so fast, Baby Black,” she snatches the gold chain out of the air just before he’s able to close his fingers around it. It disappears from her hands not a second later.

Regulus sits stiffly straight in his chair and folds his hands in front of him, “Fine then,” he says, trying to curb the snarl on his face, “Let’s talk,”

Her stoic expression melts away to a sunny exclamation immediately, “Oh wonderful! I’d thought that’d take much longer!” Her mood swings reminded him of Bella, in a way, and a shiver rolls down his spine.

She rights herself in her chair, “Right then, to business, shall we? I need material ordered, but I can’t order it meself or it’ll get reported. Bloody knob has me owls monitored again, as if he could catch me that way,” she snorts wryly as if she’s made a joke he should know, “I’m good for the galleons, don’t worry, I just need someone scary enough or with a big enough name that no one will peep up and question it. Barty said you’d be good for it, if I had the right incentive,”

Regulus is…baffled, to be quite frank, he has no idea what to do with this person in front of him. Her accent makes her words seem like they’re bouncing around his head before they make sense, but they don’t make any sense at all to him.

“Are…” he trails off for just a moment, “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

She looks at him with wide eyes, or at least wider eyes, “What? No! Merlin’s left tit, Black, do you think I’m suicidal? Fuck no, I’m not trying to blackmail you,”

Regulus is struck with the urge to laugh, but bites his tongue, “I suppose that’s good then, you weren’t exactly doing a good job of it,”

Finnegan snorts and slides the necklace across the table, he’d never seen it reappear until now. He’s not sure if she’s terrifyingly good at wandless magic or if it’s slight of hand, but he doesn’t care as he scoops the gold chain with the pendant, a single letter J, and shoves it into his robe pocket.

“I was gonna give that back regardless, I was just hoping it might help get you to listen to me,” she says, “It nearly slipped down the drain in the Prefect’s bath,”

A dark blush rises to his cheeks and she grins lecherously at him, “You two really ought to keep better track of your things,”

Regulus schools his features and tries to will away his blush, “Back to the point, Finnegan, or I shall simply walk away. You’ve given up your bargaining chip,”

She laughs again and tuts, “No, I’ve only lost one bargaining chip. So I’d suggest you remain sitting, dwt,”

He decidedly does not want to know what that means.

He doesn’t get a moment to think before she’s talking again, “You and yours are in a bit of a prank war with the Marauders, aren’t ye?”

He snorts again, as if he’d actually be involved in Evan and Barty’s schemes. He just keeps them, mostly, out of trouble. And maybe he occasionally suggests some ideas. But only occasionally. He wouldn’t lower himself to his brother’s antics.

“Evan and Barty are, yes,”

Finnegan rolls her eyes, “Please, Black, anyone with eyes that can see past their nose can see you all over their pranks. Evan and Barty are two of the dumbest fuckers I’ve ever met. Smart as a whip when it comes to a book, they are, but both of ‘em would be lost without you, so don’t even try that selkie-shite with me,”

He cocks his head curiously at her, “Rather observant,” he murmurs, “for a Hufflepuff,”

She quirks a sarcastic brow, “Rather smart,” she drawls, “for a Slytherin,”

He can’t help but chuckle at that, “Touché,”

She waves her hands and rolls her eyes, “Merlin and all the saints, can’t believe people can be multifaceted outside of their house traits they get sorted into at age eleven. The news will rock the Wizarding World at its core,”

Finnegan reminds him of a very strange combination of Barty and Dorcas. He has to admit, he kind of likes her. She’s absolutely a bag of cats, he can bear smell the crazy coming off her, but Barty was also bat-shite crazy and Dorcas was not far behind him in that regard, so maybe he just attracted crazy in his life. Perhaps the Black Family Madness was just a by-product of accumulating an assortment of completely mental people.

“Can we get back to the point, Finnegan? I’ve Arithmency homework to finish,” he asks.

“Bollocks,” she swears, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean to take up so much of your time. If you order the materials I need, I can get you intel on your brother and his friends’ pranks. And help your lot prank them.”

He weighed his options. It’s not like she was asking a monumental favour. He could indulge her.

“What materials do you need that you can’t order yourself?” He certainly didn’t need to be getting caught with anything illegal. He had enough on his plate without dealing with any of that nonsense.

“I need fifty kilos of ultra-fine glitter, antimony trisulfide, dextrin, strontium, copper, barium, and sodium chloride, sulphur powder, charcoal, and potassium nitrate,”

Regulus blinks.

He blinks again.

And again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, completely bewildered, “you’re building a bomb?!”

She immediately shushes him, looking around to make sure no one heard him, “Keep your bloody voice down, Black!”

She looks at him with an irritated glare, “Merlin’s tits, yes, of course, I’m building a bloody bomb! Are you new here? That’s kind of my thing. And it’s a glitter bomb, you knob. Completely harmless, just very inconvenient and a highly effective form of retribution,” she grinned manically, “Nothing like trying to get glitter out of your knickers to make you think twice about being a proper gobshite, aye?”

This is officially the strangest situation he’s ever found himself in, which is saying something seeing as he’s lived with Barty for six years, and he can’t help but laugh. He supposes digging ultra-fine glitter out of every body crevice and article of clothing one is in possession of is plenty of motivation to not be an arse.

“Okay,” he chuckles, “Sure, I’ll get your materials. Give me everything you have on my brother and his miserable group of miscreants,”

Finnegan waggles her eyebrows with an almost comical leer, “I know for a fact you don’t think one of those “miserable miscreants” is really all that bad,”

Regulus rolls his eyes, knowing there’s no way he can talk his way out of this, not with Finnegan knowing about the necklace and apparently one of their late night dalliances in the Prefect’s bath.

“Actually,” Regulus says, rather primly, “I quite think he’s the worst of them all,”

Finnegan coughs out a laugh, “You would, wouldn’t you?”

Regulus balks at that, “What does that mean?”

Finnegan grins and shrugs, “Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, Black,”

He tries to needle her into explaining, but she stays infuriatingly tight-lipped about it. He curses the fool who ever said Hufflepuffs didn’t have three braincells to rub together. This particular one is maddeningly astute. He wants to hex her.

Tillie lets him try and pry an explanation out of her, but simply regales him with half answers and nonsensical tripe. She’s got to give it to him, he puts up with it longer than most do. She reckons he’s used to runaround answers from being around Pandora, but even Baby Black has his limits and before long he huffs exasperatedly, blowing a stray curl up before it falls right back where it was and he goes crosseyed trying to glare at it.

He levels her with a completely unimpressed look, “You’re a wretched, evil, thing, you know?”

She grins at him, a bit mean and very entertained, “Been called worse, I reckon,” he rolls his eyes, thoroughly done with her antics, but helplessly amused all the same, “Now, do you wanna know what your brother and his lot are planning, or not?”

Regulus leans forward, eyes bright. He may want to pretend he’s above such shenanigans, but she knows he’s every bit as mischief-inclined as his brother and his not-so-secret (to her anyways) boyfriend. Regulus Black is many things, but a stick in the mud is not one of them.

She leans forward in her seat too and whispers, “They’re planning to animate the Slytherin Quidditch lockers to chase after players while they’re trying to change for next weekend’s match,”

Regulus is actually surprised, that’s rather brilliant. The team wouldn’t see it coming at all, it’d throw them out of their rhythm and disrupt their pre-game routines. It has James written all over it.

“That rotten bastard,”

Tillie snorts, “Technically, he’s not a bastard, he has both parents, the lucky sod,”

Regulus rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t have good parent privileges right now. He’s a dirty, cheating bastard and I’m going to knock him straight off his broom on the pitch,”

Tillie widens her eyes, “You mean to tell me,” she gasps dramatically, “you’re capable of doing something straight? I didn’t think it was possible,”

Regulus chokes on air, and splutters indignantly, “Oi! Fuck off, Finnegan!”

It takes him only a few days to get Finnegan’s bomb-making materials. Just as Finnegan had said, no one questioned him about his need for such a collection of materials. Nothing was dangerous or illegal in of itself, and nothing was searched coming into the castle. He’d had Kreacher pick most everything up and bring it directly to his dorm. Once everything had arrived, it was simply a task of sending a school owl to deliver a note to Finnegan and meeting in an unused Potions lab for the transfer.

When Tillie arrived to the lab, she was nearly vibrating with a manic energy. He desperately hoped he would not get caught in the crossfire of this, but he had little hope of being spared. Sirius had once dumped a package of glitter into his hair when they were younger and he hadn’t been able to get it out for months. Did the Impervious Charm work on glitter? He bloody well hoped so. He’d have to ask Flitwick.

“Fucking insane, you are,” Regulus shook his head. Tillie giggled.

“Better than being normal,” she shrugged, “Now shoo. James is about to try and bribe the house elves into pouring a potion into everyone’s drinks at dinner. If you hurry, you might be able to find out what it is,”

He’s almost to the door when she snorts and snickers under her breath, “And maybe get a snog sesh in too,”

He sends a stinging hex at her without looking and his face splits into a grin when she yelps loudly behind him. Serves her right.

Their alliance (friendship) continues through the year. He knows she’s playing both sides of this prank war, but he finds it quite fun to try and feed her false information, or weasel information out of her. They constantly rile each other up, snapping out insults and banter like they’d been doing it for years. She gets along with Evan and Barty far too well for his comfort, and Dorcas and Pandora both enjoy her company. It takes him a while to get used to Bones and Vance when she starts bringing them around, but eventually they all settle into a peaceful agreement. He argues politics with Bones and Vance, and it takes him far too long to figure out why everyone calls the three Hufflepuffs “The Bombsquad”. It’s quite possible that he was the last person in Hogwarts to find out about Tillie Finnegan’s rather concerning obsession with pyrotechnics and explosives. Suddenly, all her exploded potions assignments made a lot more sense.

It’s nearing the end of sixth year, and Regulus has all but withdrawn from everyone and everything. He knows what’s waiting for him at home and his stomach is a constant pit of dread. He can’t eat or sleep. He has to end things with James soon to keep him safe and the thought of losing the one person who brings so much light and warmth to his bleak and cold existence threatens to tear him apart at the very seams. He goes through the motions day-to-day, but everything is hazy and discombobulated around him. He hears the lectures, but doesn’t comprehend the words. He sits in the library and stares at his textbooks, trying to read the same passages over and over and over again, but all he can think about is the imaginary noose around his neck feels like it gets tighter by the hour. It’s only a matter of time before the floor falls out beneath his feet and his life is over. He had so much he wanted to do, but this is the way his life works. He knows he has no choice. Not if he wants to keep Sirius safe from Walburga and Orion and the Dark Lord. War is coming, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t keep Sirius alive through it.

His thoughts are interrupted, in a way that’s strangely reminiscent of their very first meeting at this exact library table. But this time, when Tillie Finnegan throws herself in the chair across from him, she’s not alone. Amelia Bones hovers rather awkwardly at the remaining chair, before she sits down stiffly.

“I’m not getting you more glitter,” Regulus says in lieu of a greeting. His voice is raspy from disuse. He doesn’t actually know when the last time he spoke was.

“Good, cause that’s not what I’m here for. But feel free to spoil me with gunpowder any time you want,” Tillie quips. His lips twitch, as though they want to smile, but can’t.

“What do you need, Tils?” He asks.

She grins at him, but there’s something hesitant in it, it puts him on edge, “I need you to promise not to hex the hair off of us and to hear me out,”

Regulus blinks. Once. Twice.

“I..” he looks between Bones and Tillie, Bones won’t meet his eyes, “I do not like where this is going,”

Bones clears her throat, “It’s not a bad thing. Tillie is just convinced you’re going to hate our meddling,”

He shoots Tillie a dark look and sighs, his curiosity getting the best of him, “Fine,” he grumbles, “I promise not to hex the hair off of you and to hear out whatever inane, meddlesome plot you’ve devised now,”

Tillie and Bones slide a rolled bundle of parchment over the table to him. He pulls the leather thong binding it and his breath gets punched out of his throat by the words he reads.

Wizarding Persons Protection Incentive: For Children of Dark Families Who May Not Have A Choice

There are countless pages documenting the program and what it could provide, and a bulleted list for, what he assumed, names. He could feel the magic in the parchment as he held it, looking through everything. It detailed how the persons protection worked, what protections were laid in place, how the DMLE would uphold those protections, and the measures the department were taking to thoroughly vet each person wanting to come into the program.

“It’s officially been approved as of this morning. The Minister, Head Auror, and the Head of the DMLE signed it into effect to start before the summer hols.” Bones said quietly.

Tillie brushed his hand, and he jerked away, she smiled sadly, “You aren’t obligated in any way, Reg, but you’re a good person. You aren’t built for war, and Sirius isn’t the only one who deserves a happy ending,”

Tears spill over his eyes and he desperately, desperately, wants to believe her, “They’ll hunt him down if they don’t have an heir. I have to. I don’t have a choice,”

He tries to contain his sob, but the ugly thing rips out of his chest. It’s silent, of course, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

“Reg, Sirius is already taken care of. So is James. And Remus, and Pete. They’re all acting as, quote unquote, officers for the program. They aren’t going to be 100% out of the line of fire, but they’ll be working on muggleborn intel, and evacuating families before Moldyshorts can get to them. They’ll be under heavy protections at all times, and in charge of safe house rotations. Your parents would need to be the spawn of Merlin to get to Sirius, love.”

His breath was caught in his throat. Could he really escape this? Was it possible? Would he actually be able to live through the War and not have to sacrifice everything he is to a narcissistic, half-blood, megalomaniac?

Tillie breaks him out of his thoughts, “Reg, love,” she says gently, he looks into her eyes and sees nothing but kindness. She doesn’t pity him. He knows his desperation is plain as day on his face, but he can’t push it away. He is desperate. He doesn’t want to be turned into a monster.

Tillie gently takes the parchment back and rolls it up, securing the leather thong around it and stuffing it back into her bag. Her expression is kind and open when she speaks again, “It’s time for you to think about what you want, Regulus. Not what’s best for Sirius, or what your parents want, or what you’ve been taught is expected of you. Take tonight. Think about what you want. We’ll come find you tomorrow, and you can give us your answer,”

Bones and Tillie don’t linger, they leave him to his racing thoughts. He barely manages another half hour of trying to study before he shoves his books roughly in his bag and books it to his dorm. Evan and Barty are already there, in deep discussion.

Barty looks up at him and waves him over to his bed, “Fins talk to you about it?”

“Yeah,” Regulus says, arranging himself against Evan’s side at the headboard. His skin crawls a bit from the contact, but he doesn’t pay it any mind, “What are we doing about it?”

Evan drops an arm around Regulus, holding tight for a minute, “We’re a team, Reg, wherever we go, we go together, always.”

Barty nods sharply at Evan’s words. They all share a moment of silence, looking from one to another as an unspoken wave of understanding rolls across them.

“So we’re decided?” Regulus asks. Barty and Evan don’t hesitate to respond in the affirmative.

The next morning, each of them sign their names on that enchanted parchment with a flourish the first second they could.

No one could have known that a few elegant, swooping signatures would change the entire course of the War. Children from Dark families signed into the program from every house, desperately trying to escape the fate their parents lay for them. Voldemort’s forces didn’t grow exponentially in the lead up to the War, as his sacrificed child soldiers suddenly started disappearing. Dumbledore barely had a force to work with, the children he approached, certain of their answers, turned him away and refused to join the Order, no matter what he tried to leverage against them.

Without a supply of expendable foot soldiers each leader had anticipated, they’d been forced to fight their own war. Dumbledore had been forced to find the Horcruxes on his own. Tom had been forced to pick his battles, instead of raining chaos at any given opportunity. There were still battles, still bloodshed and deaths, but the war had been changed.

James, Sirius, and Remus had several close calls with Death Eaters while evacuating muggles and muggleborns, but most everything was easily healed. They had an almost impossible success rate for getting families evacuated and keeping them safe from Death Eaters. The three of them duelled fiercely together, and became a force that even seasoned Death Eaters were wary to reckon with.

Peter thrived in making plans, his love of strategy and sharp eye created easy executed plans of escape, evasion, attack, and defence. He could think from both sides of the chessboard, taught the officers how to anticipate their opponent, forced them to learn how to use stealth and speed together for the quickest and cleanest missions possible, but also taught them how to sacrifice the premise of a mission and still come out successful.

Lily Evans blossomed in her role as Healer alongside Mary MacDonald. The two of them devised emergency kits for every single member of the Initiative, something that had saved several of their lives over the course of the War.

Barty and Evan were stationed as the WPPI’s hit wizards and they revelled in being able to use the darker magics against Death Eaters. They wrought chaos and distrust among Voldemort’s ranks, using Polyjuice to infiltrate the ranks and sow seeds of doubt. They cut more than a fourth of Voldemort’s forces down alone.

They’d found out Dorcas and Marlene McKinnon had an uncanny knack for breaking into places and stealing things without anyone being the wiser. As Voldemort got more desperate to regain the upper hand, his plans became clearer and clearer. Dorcas and Marlene took a special kind of satisfaction at staying one step ahead of him at all times, getting to whatever book, artefact, or target he was after just moments before he did.

Pandora stayed well away from the War in any capacity, but frequently helped pass along information she gathered from the streets or from Visions.

Bones took the Ministry by storm when she flawlessly headed the WPPI and stepped seamlessly into the role of DMLE Head, when the former one had been killed by Voldemort.

Vanity fast-tracked into the Auror department and quickly became known for her ruthless duelling skills and on-the-fly thinking.

Tillie and her husband, Sean, stayed far away from the War and the efforts of the WPPI. Their son deserved a world where both his parents were there and available for him. That didn’t stop Tillie from sending a very, very large box of carefully crafted explosives to a safe house off the coast of Italy to a certain curly haired Slytherin who’d done her a favour years ago.

And Regulus? Well, he’d paid a visit to Number 12 Grimmuald Place and he’d buried his parents below tons of ash and flame. He’d torched the place he’d been imprisoned to his whole life and the place where his childhood had been ruthlessly taken from him. He stepped into his role as the Head of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black with an air of grace that only a Black could have. He used their fortune to buy up properties for safe houses, provide supplies for their Healers, and work the Wizagmont into a sustainable path for the future. He also frequently got nailed in the face with a signature glitter-filled mini bomb when he opened the package that arrived on his doorstep each month. He learned unfortunately quickly that neither the Impervious Charm nor Protego are effective in fighting off the onslaught of craft shrapnel.

The War ends when Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle duel for the last time. Their wandfire clashes together with an epic thundering and the contrasting jets of light explode as they meet. The leaders of war stand no chance against the concussive blast and when the dust settles, all that’s left is the bodies of two old men, half of a Phoenix feather and yew wand, and a perfectly split wand made from Elderwood and thestral hair. Their graves are unmarked, except for an inscription that reads: “Here lies the mark of men who believed violence would provide them power, and only succeeded in destroying their humanity in an attempt to seize it.”

Not six months after the end of the War, Lily Evans brings a little boy into the world who looks just like his father, but has Regulus’ icy blue eyes. Magical surrogacy had allowed James and Regulus to have a child of their very own, who was safe from the horrors of the war and could never be used as a tool to further an old man’s delusional agenda.

Harry Potter grew up in a world where he made “science experiments” with his best friend Seamus Finnegan, and helped his other best friend Neville and his mum in the greenhouses, and threw gnomes from the garden with his other best friend Ron, and swam in the lake with his (sometimes) other best friend Draco, and was babysat by his favourite cousin Tonks when his Dad and Papa went on date nights.

Tillie Finnegan wasn’t a war hero to the Wizarding public, but to a set of three Slytherins who had nowhere to go except down the irredeemable path, she was the best hero of them all.

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

In her answer to the "get to know your moots better" tag game, @justaboot mentioned she'd love to go backpacking in Ireland.

As someone who lives here, I am making this post for anyone who wants to visit Ireland at any point, and I figure now's as good a time as any.

Weather

It rains like 24/7 here so bring a fucking rain coat. And an umbrella. I'm so serious. There will be mornings where you'll leave your hotel/tent/wherever you're staying and you'll think "It doesn't look like it's going to rain" NO. BRING THE COAT. The sky is lying to you. Just because it doesn't look like it'll rain does NOT mean it's not gonna rain!!

The west and north tend to get worse weather, but rain happens everywhere here.

History

Not gonna get into it here because that'd be wayyyy too long of a post, but a lot of our tourist attractions rely on people having at least some kind of knowledge of Irish history and/or folklore. It's interesting, if a bit depressing at times, but I'm pretty sure that goes for all countries.

Long story short we were under British control for a really really really REALLY long-ass time, and we fought like hell to get our independence. Oh - speaking of which, if you're anywhere near the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, it's a good idea to avoid wearing orange ESPECIALLY in or around July. This is because orange is seen as a symbol of Unionist beliefs (ie, the belief that Ireland should be part of the UK) and it's a REALLY touchy subject for a lot of people. Do your research. Trust me on that.

Language

First off, most people speak English here (unless you're in a Gaeltacht region, where people mainly speak Irish. These are located in Cork, Donegal, Galway, Kerry, Meath, Mayo and Waterford, and they can be a great cultural experience but it's not for the faint of heart.) However, there are like a zillion different regional accents so good fucking luck trying to understand people 😂😂

The way Irish people talk has some nice quirks, some of which I'll share here.

Craic (pronounced "crack") No, it's not drugs. The word craic generally means a good time or other happenings. There are three main ways the word is used.

"What's the craic?" = What's up?/Any news?

To have the craic = To have fun, especially at a party

"No craic" = Boring, nothing happening at all.

If someone invites you for a "cuppa" or better yet, a "cupán tae" (pronounced "cup awn tay") they want you to come in and have a cup of tea with them. This is usually accompanied by a LOT of small talk, which Irish people are experts at.

Other expressions vary WILDLY by county and sometimes even by region, so I'm afraid I'm not much help to you here.

Things To Do Here

First off, our restaurants are quite overpriced, as are our hotels. However, our healthcare is fairly cheap.

We have SO MUCH NATURAL SCENERY. If the weather allows, definitely go out and explore it! Just watch out if you're hiking, as the rain makes a lot of places muddy and slippy, so maybe bring the good hiking boots. We also don't have a lot of animals that can kill you, which is great!

As I mentioned, we have a lot of places to go that are based in our history, and they can be great places to learn about Ireland's past. But if you're not interested in history (which is fine) there are plenty of other options. We have a wax museum in Dublin, a theme park called Emerald Park (formerly Tayto Park, after an Irish potato chip brand) and a LOT of great theatres, pubs and clubs. Oh yes, if there's one thing we do well here, it's our night life!

We even have a coastal trail called the Wild Atlantic Way, which stretches all the way up our western coastline, from Cork to Donegal.

And lastly, if you're in the area, there is this fucking LEGENDARY ice cream parlour in Sligo called Mammy Johnstons. It's RIGHT next to the beach, and (in my limited experience) it's the BEST ice cream place in the country.

So yeah! Enjoy your trip!

🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪

[celtfather]

Irish Shadows #658

Step out of the shadows and listen to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast #658. Subscribe now!

Maggie’s Wake. Keltricity, Altan, Dancing With Hobbits, Tarren, Michael Darcy & The Atlantic Tramps, Telenn Tri, The BorderCollies, The Langer's Ball, Ironwood, Nick Metcalf, The Changing Room, Jimmy & Scots Folk Band, Karan Casey, Jigjam, Kinnfolk

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VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20 FOR 2024

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THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

0:06 - Maggie’s Wake "Into The Shadows" from Maggie’s Wake

2:42 - WELCOME

4:15 - Keltricity "Sand Island  -  Maggie in the Rain  -  Steady On" from Live at Terra Firma Radio

7:57 - Altan "Liostáil mé le Sáirsint (Song)" from Donegal

11:03 - Dancing With Hobbits "Hobbit Polka" from Dancing With Hobbits

14:14 - Tarren "You to Me" from Revel

20:11 - FEEDBACK

23:00 - Michael Darcy & The Atlantic Tramps "Wild Rover No More" from Down to the Roots

25:52 - Telenn Tri "Weasel's Revenge set" from The Cat's Meow

31:25 - The BorderCollies "Twa Corbies" from To the Hills and Back

34:58 - The Langer's Ball "Air: Bygone Days" from Appetite for Tradition

36:58 - Ironwood "Selkie Song" from Gretna Green

40:10 - THANKS

41:54 - Nick Metcalf "Walls of Liscarrol / Christy Barry's Set" from Skyline of Skye

45:49 - The Changing Room "Delyow Sevi" from Picking Up The Pieces

47:52 - Jimmy & Scots Folk Band "HIGH KING'S REEL" from The Viking Irishman

50:02 - Karan Casey "By and By" from Nine Apples of Gold

54:30 - Jigjam "John D. McGurk's (The Heartbeat of St. Louis)" from Across The Pond

57:56 - CLOSING

58:45 - Kinnfolk "Loch Lomond" from The Knotted Circle

1:02:03 - CREDITS

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather and our Patrons on Patreon. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. Visit our website to follow the show. You’ll find links to all of the artists played in this episode.

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* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. I am Marc Gunn.

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TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS

Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through its culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos. Learn more about the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/

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What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? Please email me. I’d love to see a  picture of what you're doing while listening or of a band that you saw recently.

Email me at follow@bestcelticmusic.

Mary Beth Carty emailed a photo: "Hi Marc,

Here is a pic of myself (accordion), my sister Lilly Cart (bodrhan), and my 3rd cousin Heather MacIsaac performing a concert of Irish songs and tunes at the Antigonish Heritage Museum, the former train station in my hometown. The acoustics are great in this space and there was a full crowd.  Volunteers from the Heritage Association provided tea, juice, and snacks for the attendees. We did a number of sing - alongs and there were lots of moments when the crowd joined us on beautiful choruses. A great time! "

James OConnor emailed a photo: "Hi Marc Here is a pic with Jim O’Connor and Jim Chetz Keegan of Boston Blackthorne backstage at the beautiful Colony Theatre in Woodstock NY with the Dublin City Ramblers. We opened the show for the Ramblers who sounded fantastic and were incredibly gracious to us."

Jeffrey McCafferty emailed: "We had a record day in pittsburgh…America’s Grand St Patrick’s Day powered by the Pittsburgh Penguins…featuring 500,000 spectators, FNB’s St.Patrick’s Family Fair in the Square, 200 entries with 20,000 participants, great weather, 20 bands"

Virginia Davis emailed: "Hi Marc  -  Happy Birthday!  I’m super - swamped today and maybe tomorrow, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible!  We actually have a new CD I need to get over to you  -  thanks! "

Betty Collette emailed a shirt picture: "Hi Marc  -  I was sewing pillows, cooking corned beef dinner, baking blueberry scones, and listening to Irish music. Here's my newest tshirt of The High Kings. We recently were lucky to see them nearby in Tomball, Texas!

Happy St. Patrick's Day and Happy Birthday, too!! "

  Check out this episode!

[derrygirlstrash]

WIP Wednesday

I’m finished with school for the semester so I can finally begin working on that fic I started ages ago, and a few other things, so to keep myself remembering to work, here’s a WIP of the second chapter of my fic What A Girl Wants, where James is trying to buy Erin a Secret Santa gift with help from Aisling and Charlene:

—

December 6th, 1997

As was often the case, the weekend meant another sleepover, granted to them for the pretense of studying, but ended up with the usual activity of ‘anything but studying’.

Semi-Charmed Life was playing in the background as Orla stretched her legs to rest her calves in Clare’s lap who was measuring them with rainbow yarn, which, James suspected, was probably giving away who Clare got for her Secret Santa but they weren’t going to ruin the cheerful energy Clare had tonight by pointing it out.

Michelle had brought a bottle of cheap, unlabeled gut rot liquor from her recently acquired job at Dennis’s Wee Shop. Even a small sip of the wretched stuff had him thinking dangerous thoughts when Erin stretched close beside him in her brushed cotton pajamas. What was it about that tiny strip of skin that peeked from the space between her pajama top and bottoms that made him want to do something stupid like stand out her window and hold a boom box up to profess his more-than-like for her?

Needless to say, he hadn’t taken a second sip.

Instead, the brushed cotton clad beauty was currently applying a second coat of nail polish on his hands. It was clear yet sparkly, a perfect compromise choice - it’s not as if he didn’t like bubblegum pink, on her it was quite lovely in fact, but colored nail polish always stresses him out with the upkeep so he put his foot down on a clear - and the twinkling glitter honestly brought out his hands. He was lucky she had it because he would have taken any color she wanted if it meant she was holding his hands the way she was right now. Her hands are so warm.

“You really do suit the sparkly polish James,” Erin said, tilting her head to observe her handiwork while twisting the cap shut, then lifting the hand she was painting and blowing gently on the wet nails to dry them faster. “Good choice on that one.”

As he stares at her lips pursing invitingly to blow on his nails and feels her soft breath on his fingers, he thinks to himself that he needs to let her do his nails more often.

“Yeah?” he asked, admiring the hand she wasn’t blowing on with an exaggerated flourish, mostly just to make her snort with amusement. “Not too much?”

“I think you can go a little further, I’ll get you picking out colors one day.” Erin replied, knocking her knee against his slightly, but not enough to jostle him and risk smudging her careful paint job. He then knocked her knee back, which made her give him a playful warning, “Watch yourself, if you mess it up I’m not fixing it.”

“Oh yes, right, sorry.” he tried to look apologetic as he said it, but it was hard not to smile when she smiled.

“You ought to be, if you mess up them up. Look at them, so pretty.” Erin teased him a bit with the way she said ‘pretty’ which made him feel flushed, more flushed considering he could still feel the sip he took like a hot stone in his stomach. Then, after a moment of observing his nails with a scrutinizing eye, she smiled, more to herself than to him and lowered her mouth to a spot just above his nail bed and pressed her lips to that spot so quick and gentle he nearly thinks it was wishful thinking, “Perfect, you’re all dry!”

If he was flushed before, it’s nothing compared to how he feels now. This is probably a moment, considering it’s the first time her lips were on him in any capacity since Donegal, but how much of a moment he wasn’t sure. Mostly because they had taken matching sips of what Michelle brought. He can only smile, not even say anything, so she just returns the smile looking easy and casual as if she didn’t just scramble every thought in his head by kissing him on his fingers and turns away to grab something else. It was a big point in his favor on the ‘does she still like me’ front, the thought crossed his mind, but he wasn’t sure whether he should count anything done under the influence of alcohol that was just short of lighter fluid.

He allows himself to look down at her hands, where the last chips of her peachy, school appropriate nail polish was clinging to her nails. He had the thought to offer to paint her nails as well. Anything to hold her hands longer…

Before he could offer though, the door was opening and the stern voice of Mrs. Quinn was speaking over the music, “Is this what you wains think passes for studying? If so, you ought to pray it works out for you, or we might have some issues!”

At once the room snapped to attention, Erin was reaching for her school bag and kicking the small basket of polishes under her desk and James was digging in his own bag to grab a highlighter or something, anything to look more busy than he was. Michelle was trying to subtly hide the liquor under the bed while reaching for her textbook, Clare let out a strangled gasp before beginning to read from her book with one hand and thumbing through her notes with the other and Orla - well, Orla was mostly looking at Mrs. Quinn with owl eyes and crisp crumbs falling out her mouth, but she was still just as at attention as the rest of them.

“We-we were just taking a break Mammy.” Erin said nervously, taking out her study sheets, “Trying to reset our brains, y’know, to retain the material better.”

“You’ll retain a long punishment over the break if you don’t bring home good grades. Being in the last stretch doesn’t mean you just get to slack off, you have university to think about.” Mrs. Quinn said in a voice that left no debate to be had from any of them, then suddenly, oh god, she was looking at him.

Luckily though, she didn’t seem upset and instead said, “James love, there’s someone on the phone for you. Says she called around yours to talk about a project for school and couldn’t reach you so she tried here.”

He was confused to say the least, considering there wasn’t any sort of group project to do before Christmas Holiday. Nevertheless, he got to his feet and followed Mrs. Quinn to the phone, taking it from her and speaking skeptically into the phone, “… Hello?”

“Good, so you are here.” Charlene’s voice came through the other end of the line and James startled at it. It was the last voice he was expecting at the moment.

“Wh- Charlene?”

“I mean, I would hope you know my voice by now James. I’m very memorable.” Was her response.

He couldn’t argue with her there.

[rabbitcruiser]

World Fiddle Day

Schedule a lesson or find a performance to enjoy one of the classic  instruments of the working class, the fiddle. Or sit down to watch  Fiddler on the Roof!

World Fiddle Day is an annual music celebration day celebrated on the  Third Saturday of May. This year it will be observed on May 19. Even  though World Fiddle Day was created in 2012, it gained popularity all  over the world within a few years. It was created to celebrate and to  teach the playing of bowed string instruments throughout the world by  conducting participatory and inclusive events. The fiddle is a bowed  string musical instrument, used by the players in all genres including  classical music.

World Fiddle Day happens once a year and is meant to celebrate  everything that everyone loves about the chirpy, fun and feisty art of  fiddle music. You’ll see it being celebrated on the third Saturday of  each May. The fiddle is always known to be something positive, with all  the songs and notes it produces high energy, entertaining, and bringing  something positive. Making the room dance, wherever the sound of a  fiddle is played.

Around the world, this day is celebrated with dancing, music, and of course plenty of fiddle playing!

History of World Fiddle Day

Before we speak about the day, it may be best to get a better idea of  the Fiddle that is being celebrated! The fiddle is a four-stringed  musical instrument of the string family, also often referred to as a  small type of violin. Like the violin, it is also played with a bow. The  terms fiddling or fiddle playing actually refer to a style of music,  most commonly folk music. The origins of the name ‘fiddle’ are not known  but is believed to be derived from an early violin or the Old English  word ‘fithele’. The fiddle is common to English folk music, Irish folk  music, Scandinavian music, Austrian, French, Hungarian, Polish,  American, Latin American, African, and even Australian music. There is  no difference between the fiddle and small violin aside from the name  and type of music the instrument is used for.

A fiddle has many parts including the neck, fingerboard, tuning pegs,  scroll, pegbox, bridge, soundhole, strings, fine tuners, tailpiece,  bass bar, soundboard, chinrest, button, backplate, and bow. The earliest  fiddles (or violins) were derived from the bow instruments from the  Middle Ages.

When it comes to building a high-quality fiddle, it can take as many  as 200 hours for craftsmen to handcraft a professional fiddle, showing  that for a relatively simple looking and fun instrument, a lot of craft  and workmanship has to go into building one.

Traditional fiddle strings were made of pig, goat, horse, or sheep  intestine. Today they are made from steel or aluminium over a nylon  core. Now, the last fiddle fact that you may want to take down for your  next game of trivia, is that the fastest fiddler/violinist on record is  Ben lee who played ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ in just over a minute in  2010. He played an average of 13 notes each second for a total of 810  notes in all. Now that is pretty impressive, so now the fiddle has been  explained, what about the day?

The day was founded in 2012 by one Caoimhin Mac Aoidh, a professional  fiddler from Donegal in Ireland. The day was birthed from a deep  respect for one of the most expert and revered violin makers in history.

This month was chosen to coincide with the anniversary of the death  of the Italian violin craftsman Antonio Stradivari’s way back in 1737.

Stradivari is today considered the most significant creator of  violins in history, with his surviving instruments today seen as the  most prized and finest ever created. Although he also made the larger  string instruments cellos and violas, it’s the violins that he lovingly  crafted that he is most well-known and remembered for.

Though only a couple of hundred of his works still exists, they have  been known to capture some huge prices at auction and are especially  sought-after amongst professional violin players.

How to celebrate World Fiddle Day

If you ever learned how to play the violin in school, or you  frequently play it either for pleasure or for work, today is a great day  to get out your fiddle and play a couple of tunes! Perhaps play a  little for friends or family, or show your children how to play some  simple themes. If you do not own one, or do not know how to play it,  then this could be a great time to learn. It is always fun and engaging  to learn a new musical instrument, so why not start to learn the art of  the fiddle, and maybe at next year’s celebrations you can play to the  world what you have managed to learn!

If you aren’t lucky enough to have learned how to play this string  instrument, you can celebrate its day by listening to some of the  fantastic performances by string artists easily found on Youtube or  Spotify. Add a spring to your daily commute with some Mozart, Barber or  Brahms!

And if you’ve always fancied trying your hand at the violin, perhaps  today you could take a trial lesson learning how to play? Who knows – by  the time the next World Fiddle Day comes along, you could be able to  play along with everyone else who is fiddling away!

Whatever you get up to, have a great World Fiddle Day!

Source

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: July 20, 2016

Lyrics:

So if I stand in front of a speeding car

Would you tell me who you are, what you like?

What's on your mind, if I'd get it right?

How I love that no one knows

And these secrets all that we've got so far

The demons in the dark, lie again

Play pretends like it never ends

This way no one has to know

Even the half smile would have slowed down the time

If I could call you half mine

Maybe this is the safest way to go

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

This is the safest way to go nobody gets hurt

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

You go back to him and then I'll go back to her

So if I stand in front of a speeding car

Would you give your little heart?

Say the word?

Due to just me and you

This way everyone will know

'Cause these secrets all that we've got so far

The demons in the dark, lie again

Play pretends like it never ends

This way no one has to know

Even the half smile would have slowed down the time

If I could call you half mine

Maybe this is the safest way to go

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

This is the safest way to go nobody gets hurt

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

You go back to him and then I'll go back to her

So if I stand in front of a speeding car

Would you tell me who you are, what you like?

What's on your mind, if I'd get it right?

How I love that no one knows

These secrets all that we've got so far

The demons in the dark, lie again

Play pretends like it never ends

How I love that no one knows

Advertise my secret

I don't really need it

I know you can feel this

So advertise my secret

I don't really need it

I know you can feel this

So advertise my

Advertise my secret

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

This is the safest way to go nobody gets hurt

We're singing

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

You go back to him and then I'll go back to her

Songwriter:

If I stand in front of a speeding car

Don't know who you are

Don't know who you are

Heya heya heya heya

Heya, heya heya

You go back to him and then I'll go back to her

Dan Devane / Sorcha Durham / Paul Flannery

SongFacts:

Walking on Cars were a four-piece Irish alternative rock band from Dingle, Ireland.

The band was formed in 2010 by five school friends. The group started out performing in small pubs and clubs in their hometown of Dingle, County Kerry. In order to fully focus on their musical careers, the five rented and locked themselves in a house on the Dingle Peninsula. There they wrote their first pieces and immediately recorded demos. "The house we rented was a pretty old cottage where we had no TV, cell phone, internet or outside connectivity," says Sorcha, "We lived there for 6 months - just our equipment and we. It was a wonderful time, the ideas literally flew to us.”

The band released their first EP As We Fly South in 2013. It was recorded at Attica Studios, Donegal and produced by Tom McFall (R.E.M., Snow Patrol, Bloc Party).

Walking on Cars at Rock im Park 2016

In 2012, Walking on Cars won the Redbull Bedroom Jam 2012 Competition. As a result, her debut single Catch Me If You Can was played on many radio stations. The song then entered the Irish charts at number 27 and stayed there for over 20 weeks. This brought the band national fame for the first time. Catch Me If You Can reached #1 on the Irish iTunes chart, and quickly garnered over 450,000 views on YouTube. The band's second single, Two Stones, peaked at number 12 on the Irish Singles Chart and well over 1 million views on YouTube.

[scamallach-1]

Thinking on the convo I'd had w/ my bf Declans dad (he's from Dublin/Co. Meath area) recently about the Irish language. He has been relearning it, and I think he had learned mainly Connacht dialect growing up. He seemed very stoked about my learning it and helped me by sending me some free virtual mini lessons he had from a woman who teaches and gave me his old "Irish On Your Own" tapes/workbook which is so great, since I'm trying to learn West Ulster dialect.

But anyway, he talked about the language and, I'll paraphrase here ofc, he brought up about how in the Irish language ("as Gaeilge"), the way things are said tend to reflect the way things are culturally understood. He said he thought that cultural understandings should be part of the lessons - in addition to the grammar and pronunciation.

For example, you'd say "I'm hungry" in English; "I am" hungry. In English it implies that a feeling is very attached to what you are (*I am sad", "I am angry" etc).

But in Irish, he said, you'd say Tá ocras orm - which literally translates to:

"Hunger is UPON me". In the Irish language, he said, and so too then in the Irish cultural understanding, these feelings are *upon* you but not necessarily intrinsic to your identity/you when they occur. You experience them until you don't. So, he said, the language can reflect that perspective.

He went on to say that in this way, learning the language can open us up to entirely different perspectives on the self and on the emotions we feel. And that if we are open-minded enough to speak the language, and so too understand it's cultural perspectives, we may become open-minded enough to make more room for all the varying perspectives that exist in the world. And be less arrogant about what we think we know about ourselves as humans/what we think we know about how people feel and experience things.

And anyway I just loved that sm, we were standing in his kitchen just having this convo, it was so nice, and I told him that I was driven MORE into learning this language now. I don’t have a dad so it was a real Dad Moment™️ for me.

➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿➿

And as far as my lessons without an irl teacher have gone, I can begin conversations like “Hello, is mise Rollie; c’ainm atá ortsa?” And “Cad é mar atá tú?” I can respond too with “Go maith, go raibh maith agat. Agus tú féin?” etc. I can speak to the the state of the weather (“Tá lá breá ann” or “Tá drochlá ann inniu”) or, what I usually say here in texass: “Tá sé te!” And I can concur with someone else, with “Tá, cinnte” which is one of the things I say a lot to Declan.

🫂 🫂 🫂

I also want to tell him: “Tabhair dom croí isteach, le do thoil!” But I’m not yet sure if that’s how it’s said or if it’s grammatically correct! Wondering where the dom goes therein. I have been perusing old forums and looking at different ways of referring to a ‘hug’ - I saw someone mention that in Donegal, it’s croí isteach, though previously I’d used barróg or barróigín.