#hes from donegal and he would have been fine probably if he fucking stayed there

[paradisepoisoned]

I’m never gonna finish these WIPs but I want you all to enjoy my shitty doodles of young Roger and Quill anyway.

Someone please ask me why Quillish is a bastard man and how he ruined Roger’s life please.

Bonus: Roger’s foxy dead wife Irene under the cut.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 142

Chapter Summary - Danielle's cousin Siobhan and her boyfriend come to London sparking Tom to realise he never knew something about Danielle.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

In certain areas of Ireland, Irish is still the first spoken language, not English, including parts of Connemara, Kerry, Cork and Donegal, amongst others. Kids actually do not speak English in the home with their family, it is not their first tongue.

The amount of times I have physically grimaced in the face of Americans and British people who try to tell me how our names are pronounced and spelt because they have had someone in their family 5 generations go that was Irish, so of course, they know more than someone raised in Irish, is growing by the day.

Right, here is a fun fact. Irish is not a phonetic language. The names are Siobhan - Shiv-awn Dáithí - Dah-hee Caoilfhionn - Kee-lin Aoife - Ee-fa

'Guess who?’ A pair of hands came over Danielle’s eyes.

‘How many Irish people do you expect me to know in the one station at the time you are arriving in?’ She laughed as she turned around to hug her cousin. ‘How was your journey?’

‘Confusing, Heathrow is mad.’

‘You get used to it.’ She looked at the guy that was next to her cousin. ‘And you must be Dáithí.’ She smiled, leaning forward and giving him a hug. ‘I believe it’s your first time to these parts.’

‘Tis, alright.’

‘Ah, a Waterford man. Speak slowly for them here, if you don’t they’ll be easily confused.’ The pair laughed. So, this is where we need to go to get the Northern Line.’ She instructed, taking them to the correct area of the station to get to their destination. ‘Tom and I are taking you two out for dinner and we will drop you at your hotel afterwards, alright?’

‘What, no Danielle, don’t worry yourself.’

‘I am not worrying myself, I mean it, we want to do this for you. Nothing fancy, just lovely Indian we always use, and this is not your local takeaway place; if it says spicy, it fucking means it.’

‘How are you with a privately educated Brit, you are too normal.’

‘Tom is not averse to swearing, I assure you.’ Danielle laughed as they got to the platform. ‘Four minutes.’ She stated, looking at the time for the next train, a man close to them seeing the sign and swearing at it as he did. ‘One thing about these parts, four minutes may as well be five hours, the way some people act.’

‘They’d die in Ireland.’

‘Yes, so don’t get too bothered when they start huffing and puffing like they want to blow down a house of straw in a few minutes.’ Danielle stated as she watched the time to the next train come down. When they got to the correct station, she ordered them off and walked them to the right house.

‘Wait, you live here?’

‘Yes.’ Danielle laughed at her cousin. ‘What were you expecting?’

‘It’s just so you.’

‘Well, it’s Toms, actually, not mine, but yes. I love it.’ She put the key in the door just as she heard Siobhan fawning. ‘I hope you like dogs, Dáithí.’

‘We have three at my Mam’s.’

‘Grand so.’ She opened the door, the dogs immediately rushing over. ‘Bed.’ Mac looked as though he had been struck, disheartened, he trotted to his bed, groaning as he did, Bobby looking between his big brother and the new humans to sniff before finally sensing Danielle’s body language was stern and trotting there sadly.

‘You’re so mean.’ Siobhan commented. ‘He’s only a puppy.’

‘Yep, he is.’ Danielle nodded, saying nothing more.

‘You are going to be the Mom that every other child in the school fears, you know that, right?’

‘Probably.’ Danielle acknowledged. ‘But then, my kids wouldn’t be the little shits running around the shop making a mess and back answering teachers.’

‘Yeah, that’s true actually.’ Siobhan conceded. ‘Is Tom here?’

‘Yes, he is working on something in his office, he’ll be down when he realises we’re here. Put your bags over there and we’ll get tea. I have Barry’s.’

‘What does Tom think of it?’

‘Tom maintains it’s fine, nothing special about it….but seems to find himself going for the box of that over the box of PG Tips.’ Danielle smiled, causing the other two to laugh. A moment later, the dogs’ ears shot up. ‘Here he is.’ When the sound of footfalls on the stairs became apparent, Danielle made another cup of tea.

A moment later, Tom walked into the room, an empty cup in his hand. ‘Hello.’ He smiled, before putting down the cup and walking over to Siobhan. ‘Great to see you again, did you have a good flight?’ He gave her a hug.

‘Hello, yes, it was fine, it’s so short you are hardly in the air when you are coming down again.’ She joked. ‘Tom, this is Dáithí, Dáithí, this is clearly Tom, Danielle’s….what do you call it?’

‘Long-suffering fool.’ Danielle jested as both men shook hands; when they were done, she walked over to Tom. ‘I’ll trade.’ She held out the fresh cup of tea and took the coffee mug off him.

‘That’s a good trade.’ Tom grinned. ‘What have I missed?’

‘Just that Danielle is going to be that mother that if she says “Sit Down” in a restaurant, her kids, all other kids, four husbands and a waiter will obey out of sheer fear alone.’ Siobhan recapped. ‘Ooh, did I show you the pictures of Laura’s baby?’

‘No, show me now.’ Danielle rushed over. ‘Oh my God, she looks so like her and you.’

‘I know. She is the cutest thing. I steal her any time I see her.’ Siobhan moved through the pictures.

‘How did Bernie take it?’

‘Oh, she’s the doting grandmother now.’

‘Of course, she is.’ Danielle rolled her eyes, having known her aunt’s reaction to the pregnancy. ‘Oh, before I forget, stay here, I have two outfits I got for her that I want you to bring back.’ Danielle left the room and went up the stairs to retrieve the bag with the little outfits she had purchased on hearing of the safe arrival of her cousin’s daughter. When she went back into the kitchen, Tom looked utterly baffled. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Say Laura’s baby’s name.’ Siobhan laughed.

‘Why?’

‘Just say it.’ she encouraged.

‘Caoilfhionn Aoife McNamara.’ Danielle looked at them all.

‘See.’ Siobhan beamed.

‘What’s going on?’ Danielle asked.

‘Tom saw how Caoilfhionn is spelt.’ Dáithí explained.

‘Ah, right.’ Danielle, realising there was no actual problem, went over to Siobhan with the bag. ‘You had me worried.’

‘Worried...how the fuck is that word pronounced like that?’ Tom exclaimed.

‘Because it is.’ Danielle shrugged. ‘That’s Irish, it’s not even in the same branch of languages as English, it is very close to Scottish Gael though, your dad might have known speakers of that growing up.’

‘There’s an “f” in it.’

‘Yes, I know. I know how to spell it.’ Danielle stated.

‘You do know Danielle was raised in Connemara. Her parents didn’t speak to her in English all her life, right?’ Siobhan pointed out.

Tom stared at Danielle. ‘What?’

‘Connemara is a Gaeltacht, the first language in those regions is Irish, not English.’ She shrugged. ‘Everyone there speaks Irish as their first language.’

‘But your mother was not from there?’

‘No, she was from Beara in Cork, the Cork Gaeltacht.’ She explained. ‘I learnt English in school when I was five.’

‘Really?’

‘Did I not tell you this?’

‘No.’

‘Whoops.’ She gave the bag to Siobhan. ‘Look at the little yellow one.’

‘So...you only spoke English in school?’ Tom reiterated.

‘In English lessons, yes, the rest of the time, we were taught in as Gaeilge so unless I went to Galway for the day with my parents, I could go a couple of days without speaking or hearing a single word of English.’ She looked at his shocked face. ‘You saw how Aoife is spelt too, right?’ He shook his head. ‘How would you spell it.’

‘E.F.A.’ She shook her head. ‘E.E.F.A.?’

Again Danielle shook her head. ‘I’ll give you a hint. The “A” is at the start and the “E” is at the end.’

‘Fuck off. No, you’re just joking now.’

‘A.O.I.F.E.’ She spelt.

‘I…’ Tom sighed. ‘I give up.’

‘Siobhan has a “B”. And Dáithí has a “T”.’ She stated.

‘Why is it so complicated?’

‘Because it is older than English and we like to confuse you.’

‘So that incomprehensible mumbling you do when calculating things is not just gibberish?’

‘Moda means plus, Luda means minus and the rest is usually numbers, all in Irish, all force of habit.’ She explained with a smile.

*

The evening was pleasant, with Tom and Danielle bringing the younger pair to dinner. When that was done, Danielle drove them to the Travelodge that they were staying at, with a plan to meet them a day or two later to do some sightseeing with them before saying their farewells.

While tidying the house for the evening, Tom found himself looking at Danielle a lot.

‘Dare I ask?’

‘So in all respects, this is your second language, English?’

‘Are you still bothered by that?’ She asked curiously.

‘I just never thought…’

‘When the Plantations occurred, and the Cromwellian situation after, most of the Irish were hunted to Connacht, where the land was wet and as a result, the language never waned as it did in other areas, famine, war, none of it took the language there. Sure, look at the Welsh, their language all but died and was revived, now it is a popular language in some parts of there again.’

‘I know, I just...Do you think in Irish or in English?’

‘It varies from moment to moment.’ She smirked, using his line, causing him to smile. ‘When I am at home here, tidying and what not, more often, in Irish I suppose. I speak Irish to the dogs some days or listen to Radio na Gaeltachta online or something. I get worried I will lose it sometimes. I love my language.’

‘I never even considered it.’ He confessed. ‘How come I never hear it on?’

‘I rarely have the radio on when you are home.’

‘Well, from now on, if you want to listen and I am here, please do.’

‘You won’t understand three words.’

‘No, I won’t, but it matter to you, and so long as it is not secretly trying to plan some form of attack on my home, I don’t particularly mind.’ He put his arms around her.

‘Damn, you’re onto them.’ She smiled, leaning up and kissing him.

Tom chuckled for a moment. ‘So, if we decide to have kids, would you speak Irish to them?’

‘Definitely.’

‘I will have to learn it so.’ He kissed her again. ‘Elle?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Please never consider calling one a word I could never hope to spell.’