#tayto writes

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag Fluff Week, day 1: Comfort

This is sort of an... Interlude? If sorts? To my day one post from inukag week at the beginning of the summer. Either story can be read as standalones, but they are compliant w/ one another, and if you enjoy this, I think you'll enjoy that. This takes place after the exposition but before the dialogue starts in that one

@inukagfluffweek

~~~~~~

You're There in the Dark

"Inuyasha?" Kagome whispered tentatively into the darkness of the hut. The fire had long since died, and Sango & Miroku had gone to bed in the other room with their children and left Kagome and Inuyasha alone in the main room. Only starlight from the window illuminated the home, the moon dark but for the dim ring that marked its presence in the sky. Kagome sat up, leaning against the wall so she could spot the silhouette between the stars.

Every month for three years, she had glared at the black mark in the sky with disdain as she sneaked out to the well house, silently praying that whatever deity or force had opened the portal in the well to begin with would allow her through again. When she found herself on the dirt floor at the bottom, she instead pleaded for Inuyasha's safety, tears stinging her eyes as she looked up to the roof of the well house instead of the open sky she longed for, untouched by the light pollution of the city. She had only gotten precious few human nights with him, and they had almost always been dangerous if not deadly. And she knew - she knew - that the others would protect him, and there was no Naraku to threaten his safety anymore, but she couldn't be there. She couldn't protect him from whatever might try and hurt him, and she hated knowing that.

Now though, he lay beside her, just as he had for the two weeks since her return to the medieval period. He had clung to her almost from the minute she'd returned, rarely stepping out of arm's reach for more than a moment. It had been the most welcome change among many that she had embraced eagerly while reestablishing herself in the feudal era. Of course they still argued. Almost daily, even. But she was much less likely to storm off in a huff if she was arguing from Inuyasha's lap. From her first night back, when Kagome had crawled to where he'd been seated to sleep and tucked herself under his arm, they had made a habit of curling up together. She'd finally gotten him to lay beside her last week, rather than propping himself up against the wall, but he still put himself between her and the door, the same way he always had when they slept indoors.

Tonight, she had very intentionally gotten up with the excuse of getting a cup of water and returned to his other side, taking the spot closer to the door. Acting as a barrier between the man she loved in his most vulnerable state, and anything and everything that might seek to do him harm. He'd arched a brow at her, but she gave him a look that brokered no argument, and he made none, his face going a bit red in the low light of the small fire they had used to cook dinner.

Taking a deep breath, Kagome turned to look at the sleeping form besides her, smiling softly. His dark human hair was much less visible than his usual stark white in the barely-there light, but Kagome could make out the shape of his face, peaceful and relaxed by sleep. Reaching up, Kagome ran her fingers gently through his hair, tracing the shape of his human ear.

She couldn't see his eyebrows furrow, but she imagined they must have when she heard a soft grunt.

"K'gome?"

"Right here," She assured quietly, smoothing her fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.

She heard a soft huff of breath and the slide of fabric on fabric as he reached over, and she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.

"Get back here, wench," he muttered, face half-pressed to her waist. Kagome giggled, stroking his hair again.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised, smiling into the darkness. He stayed there a bit longer before rolling over, looking up at her from where his head now rested in her lap. Her hand came to rest on his chest, covered only by the white underlayer of his suikan. The fire rat overlayer, which they had used as a blanket when they first laid down, was now mostly crumpled beneath him.

"You okay?" He asked after a long moment of silence, and she could feel his eyes on her.

"... Do you remember the first new moon I spent with you?"

He was quiet for a beat, and then groaned softly. "Ugh. The spider priest."

"That's the one," she nodded, mirth in her voice as her fingers toyed gently with the collar of his shirt. "I think… that was the first time it really hit me that you weren't as indestructible as you seemed," she confessed, placing her free hand over her heart. "I'd seen you get hurt before that, but you'd always bounced back. When you told me to run, to save myself... I was so terrified that I was going to lose you."

"You let me lay in your lap like this then, too," he remembered after a moment, turning his head towards her stomach. "... It was the first time since my mother was alive that someone worried about my safety like that."

"And then I never stopped," she chuckled, smoothing his collar back into place. "I know how strong you are, and that you can handle most situations, but it's never stopped me from worrying."

She thought about the last few dark moons; it hadn't taken long for her family to catch on to where she was disappearing to. After she explained Inuyasha's night of vulnerability, they'd been their usual level of understanding. Often she'd wake up slumped against the well with a blanket over her shoulders, or with Sota curled up against her side. It got easier as time passed, but she had never once gone a new moon without feeling that visceral fear that something would happen on the other side of the well without her there to help protect him. The memory alone made the dull ache of the fear flare up again, and her fingers clenched in his shirt.

"Not once."

She looked down again when she felt his hand slide over hers, strong callused fingers wrapping around her own.

"When you were gone… I spent most new moons down the well," he confessed, the pad of his thumb running over the smooth skin of her wrist. "Once the others figured it out, they started coming with, sitting out in the field, so they were always nearby. I just… wanted to be close to you.

Kagome smiled softly, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Blinking them back, she turned her hand in his, lifting his so she could kiss his knuckle.

"They say great minds think alike, but fools rarely differ," she hummed, lowering their clasped hands to his collar again. "And you know I've always been a fool for you."

The first gray light of dawn began to lend shape to their surroundings, and she could truly see him looking up at her now, his dark human eyes starting to go golden around the edges.

"I'm so glad you're here, Kagome," he admitted, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"It's good to be home."

#Inuyasha #inukag #inukagfluffweek #inukagfluffweek2023 #tayto writes

[nyoomnyoomplane]

Writing a royalty au is all fun and games until it comes to writing about horses when you’re scared of them and sat on a horse one time, cried and had to be taken off

#if anyone knows horses i envy you #one time i got on a horse in tayto park and cried so hard they had to take me off before the horse had even moved. we got the €2 back though #newsies #writing

[petermorwood]

Potato Crisps / Chips on Tasting History

So we've just watched Max's latest...

...and I was grinning a bit because I posted about Dr Kitchiner's 1817 (non-US, definitely non-Saratoga) crisps / chips recipe a month ago.

That image was from an American edition of his book; I've found a pic from the original - NB that these slices are floured before frying.

For reference, here's a two-penny piece from about 1797; the coin would still be current 20 years later:

...and here's how thick the potatoes should be sliced. That's 4mm, which is 2mm less than "a quarter of an inch" (6.25mm).

The slices will get even thinner as their moisture evaporates during frying, and, given the nature of recipes, potatoes cooked this way are probably even older than 1817 and Kitchiner's is just the first appearance found so far in print.

*****

The first recipe for "Game Chips" (an accompaniment to grouse, pheasant etc.) appeared, per the Wikipedia link, in a 1903 book published by famous chef Auguste Escoffier (1846-1935):

"Chip potatoes - these are potatoes cut into thin slices; this is usually done with a special plane. (A mandoline.) They are put in cold water for 10 minutes; then drained, dried in a cloth and fried until very crunchy. They are served hot or cold and generally accompany game roasted in the English style."

However, per Escoffier's Wikipedia page, much of his work was based on that of Anton Carême (1783-1833), whose dates are squarely coincident with Dr Kitchiner's Potato Slices.

Given the amount of cookery to-and-fro between England and France after the Napoleonic wars were over, it's impossible to say who first came up with the idea of potato crisps.

The French loved dainties - "un petit quelquechose", a little something - which the English pronounced and dismissed as "kickshaws", something over-fussy yet insubstantial. Yet those same English also loved roasting things with their appropriate accompaniments.

(I'm writing this just over a week after Christmas, and have been well reminded that the phrase "Roast (turkey / goose / beef) With All The Trimmings" is still in common 21st-century use.)

If those roasted things were game birds, only those above a certain level in society would be eating them, so it's not unreasonable to assume a rich-person game bird would attract fussy, time-consuming rich-person trimmings like, okay, Game Chips.

One thing's for sure, Potato Crisps - and Game Chips too, so hard luck, Escoffier - are almost certainly older than even Tasting History could prove.

*****

BTW, they also existed at a time when "English Food Was Bland" is more fake history.

Sauces put out on the table in fancy bottles had fancy labels ("bottle tickets") showing what was in them, and the contents were often far from bland.

Quin sauce was anchovy-based, hot and pungent.

Harvey's was a spicy sauce similar to Worcestershire, ketchup was probably mushroom and also spicy; the other two need no elaboration.

AFAIK the two crescent-shaped ones in the next pics are deliberate imitations of an officer's rank-gorget.

Finally a generic Not-Bland label that would go on any number of modern bottles (antique silver, yours for £250)...

*****

And after all of the above, I could do Very Bad Things to a packet of Tayto Cheese 'n' Onion. A packet?

Why stop at a packet when A Pack takes less time to say?

After all, It Is Written that:

"Reading One Book Is Like Eating One Potato Crisp Chip."

And also that Nothing Exceeds Like Excess...

#food and drink #potato crisps #game chips #Tasting History with Max Miller #Diane Duane #Reading one book is like... #...like eating one potato chip #wise words maxims and apothegms #Youtube

[illusionsdelusions101]

could you write a enemies to lovers story but about gavi. Pleaseee

Barrier~Pablo Gavi

A/N: Sorry for being gone for so long! Writer’s block hit me hard and i have no new ideas :( request all you want! it won’t let me upload the image without it being like 2 pixels so i’ll try and sort the issue out in a later fix :) have a gif instead

You and Gavi… Weren’t on the best of terms. Fermín introduced you guys to each other a couple years back. You’re Irish, going to Trinity College and you decided it would be good to take a gap year before you went. When you arrived, your good friend Fermín picked you up. 

“Hey!” Fer waved to you and you rushed over to him. You hugged him and put his bags in the car. You sit in the front seat, and he drives. “So, how are you?” He smiles. “I’m grand, thanks. How are you?” You smile back. “I’m good. You’re Irish lingo is gonna be hard to keep track off.” He laughs. “I mean you speak Spanish and I don’t, basically gonna be a tough year.” You grin. “Maybe you would pick up some Spanish, or would you try to learn the language?” He asks. You nod. “I might look into trying to learn it.” And you look out the window.

When you arrive at Fer’s place, you hear him hiss in annoyance. “What’s up?” You ask while taking your bags out of the car. “I forgot my friends are coming over for game night. I’m so sorry.” He buries his head in his hands. “It’s alright, I’ll just stay in the guest bedroom.” You smile. “Thanks. They’re some flirts so I don’t want them getting with you and just leaving you.” He takes your bags out of your hands and both of you start walking to the front door, he drops the bags gently on the floor, and opens the door. He takes the bags and puts them in the guest bedroom, right by the kitchen. “I get it, I wouldn’t let you go out with some of my girlies.” You chuckle. He looks at you confused. “Girlies…?” He arches an eyebrow. You shake your head and tell him that it doesn’t matter. He goes and gets the games ready while you go and unpack. 

It’s been some time, and you were getting peckish. You knew Fer bought some snacks for you and Tayto’s. You were craving your homeland’s favourite snack. You heard the shouts of Spanish lads outside your door. You heard them come in a while ago. You figured you could just sneak in the kitchen. I mean, it was right next to the guest bedroom you were staying in anyways. You decided that you will. You slowly opened the door and slipped into the kitchen. The only problem is though, the kitchen connects into the living room, and there is no door so you prayed that they were too busy on.. FIFA.

You opened a cupboard, revealing your love, Tayto’s. You take them but for some reason. The lads went quiet at that second so they heard the crunch of the bag. As if they were meerkats or something, they all looked at you at the same time. Everyone froze. Cheering from the FIFA game was louder then ever it seems. One said something to you in Spanish. Fer was panicking, but just a teeny bit. He says something and all the boys ‘ahh’ in realisation. You thought about just going back in your room, so that’s what you were planning to do.  But before you could take a step, Fer called your name and rushed over to you. “Everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Pedri, Ansu, Gavi, Lamine, Félix, Marc, Ferran, Héctor, Balde and Pau.” He points to each one and they say hi. “Right, cheers lads, nice to meet ye.” You say. “What’s that thing your doing with your voice?” Gavi asked. Everyone looked at him. “Dude, she’s Irish.” Pedri hit his arm. “Your accent doesn’t sound good, sounds like nails scratching a chalkboard.” He grimaces at the thought. You scoff. “Okay Spanish lad, fuck off you prick.” Gavi rolls his eyes and so do you. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” He waves his hand to dismiss you. “Fucking dickhead.” You whisper loud enough for him to hear but before he gives out, the click of the door was already heard. You and Gavi hated each other now. 

~Two months later~

Gavi is falling for you. That lasted, right? Your accent got more attractive to him for some reason, your eyes how they sparkles when talking about something you enjoyed, your hair in the Barça sun, etc. But he only got to notice those things from afar, because anytime he would so much take a step near you, you scowled and walked away. And he couldn’t just randomly start acting nice. He was in deep shit. He started picking up on your Irish vocab, but not a lot. He just wanted to get a chance with you, whenever you guys were arguing, something as little as not hanging his coat up properly on the hangers in Fer’s house, your arguments, as they progressed, you guys would start giving out to each other in your own language. At some point, while you guys were spewing insults in your languages (which the guys were super annoyed about), he complimented you. Calling you super pretty and he could argue with you forever if that meant he could talk to you. The lads looked at him with wide eyes. You thought, with those surprised looks on their faces, that he said something horrible, so you left. The guys teased Gavi all night. 

You on the other hand, were slowly beginning to have a crush on Gavi, after being too bored on TikTok, you got recommended a Gavi edit, and you blush too hard at the edit, and then you proceeded to watch 100 more. You were learning Spanish, and you were getting good at it, you knew a lot so you could finally surprise Fer with your knowledge now. And Gavi. Not like that, more like now you could understand what he was saying about you while arguing, and you could stare and drown into his deep brown eyes some more. Shite, you weren’t beginning to have a crush, you already had one. 

Fer had another game night with the lads, making it perfect for randomly getting a drink. You slip out of your room and go to where Fer keeps the glasses. You take a glass and pour yourself some Lucozade, (Fer’s treat after you payed for groceries) and you hear a scoff. “That’s gonna make your teeth gone all rotten, your smile isn’t any good anyways.” Gavi smirks. All the other lads sigh in annoyance for this night’s fight. “Póg mo thóin.” You hiss at him. “Me gustaria besarte por todas partes, hermosa.” He says in a spiteful tone. You stop dead in your tracks. “Qué?” You look at him with wide eyes. The match is paused and Gavi looks like he’s about to piss himself. “Entendiste eso?” He asks. “Sí.” You whisper. Fer and the lads leave the room, giving you some privacy. Gavi looks at you. “Have you understood me for a long time?”He questions. “I’ve only learned Spanish to understand you now.” You walk over to him and sit down beside him. “Do you like me?” You ask. He nods his head. “For a while now.” He adds. “Well…. I like you too.” You smile. His eyes light up. “Really?” his eyes light up in excitement. “Yes.” You chuckle. He hugs you.

“I’m so glad we got over our selfs and that stupid language barrier.” You whisper in his ear, he pulls you out of the hug and gives you a gentle kiss.

#oneshot #x reader #football #soccer #fluff #la liga #fc barcelona #fermin lopez #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi x yn #gavi x you #barca #fc barca

[dellalyra]

omg imagine gojo with a welsh or irish gf - another irish girl

Gojo would thrive with one of us Irish women

Because let’s face it: we’re mostly all firebrands, strong, fiery passionate women.

That strong sense of loyalty and family (blood or found) oriented attitude? He relishes it, a feeling of belonging - of being truly loved and respected by someone? Amazing. The fiery nature of our blood lends itself a protective nature. The higher ups are giving him shit? Not a chance.

“Eh? Excuse you, you wrinkly sack of shite? What your last skivvy die of? Hush your gob or I’ll shut it for you. Fucking scarlet for ya’, absolute state of ya.”

Sometimes when you’re angry your accent becomes thicker or if you’re a gaeilgeoir you might slip into your teanga nádúrtha and I stg gojo has never gotten a hard on quicker in his life than seeing you spitting fire at that typical angry Irish girl speed of light.

None of his arrogance or occasional push-too-far would float either. None of us have the energy.

“Satoru, for the love of God, if you keep going on about not wanting to do the washing up because you’re the strongest, I’m going to crack up. I don’t have the energy for your shite right now. Now get up off your arse and clean the pan.”

Probably takes him a while to get used to how casually we curse and drink too, like you’re going to see your friends?

“I’m meeting the gang for a few jars tonight, coming?”

“The fuck are you doing with jars?”

The vernacular gets him too.

“SATORU!” Comes a shout from across the house.

“Yes, gremlin?”

“Grab me a few tea cloths from the hot press will you? Good chap.”

“Hot press? Is that a sex position?”

“Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph.”

If you guys have kids - they’re brought up with the value that the mammy is the centre of the family and nothing goes on without her say so.

Like imagine a little mini version of Satoru running around and sprinting to his dad.

“Daddy, can I have the sweets on the table?” Shiny blue eyes mirror each other.

“Ask your mother, kiddo, it’s her dairy milk.”

The patter of feet is followed by a:

“MAAAAAAA! Can I have your selection box?”

“You can in your hat!”

Satoru sick? Why do you keep giving him flat 7up or cream crackers? Suguru got wounded on a mission, why do you insist on putting sudocream on it?

Christmas rolls around and for some reason in late November it’s a very big deal one Friday night. You have cornered him, Suguru and Shoko and forced them all into Christmas pyjamas and made hot chocolates for everyone and switched the telly on.

“What is going on? It’s not even Christmas.” Suguru asks, completely lost.

“Wha? Sure it’s the last Friday in November.”

The three just sit in silence.

“You three, thick as a plank, the lot of ye. I told ye last week that it’s the Toy Show tonight!”

“The what show?”

“The Toy Show!”

“It’s a show… about toys?”

“Yeah! A load of kids showing off their toys and showing how they work and all. Fierce funny. Robbie Keane usually ends up on it too somehow.”

If ever there’s an issue where some arsehole is annoying you about stereotypes, it’s always an entertaining show for Satoru.

“Can you do a Riverdance?” The stranger asks.

“Jaysus, sure I haven’t done any Irish dancing since I was in 3rd class and my nanny forced me to.”

Introducing him to Irish delicacies?

No I don’t mean coddle, or stew.

I mean real delicacies.

Like a chicken fillet roll or a spice bag. Your Nana’s apple tart. Soda bread or a bottle of Lilt. Bag of tayto (cheese and onion, obviously) or purple snack bars? A curly wurly? Red lemonade or a mikado biscuit? (Fuck, we love sweets I’m realising as I write this) or a decent cup of tea (Barry’s or Lyon’s, I won’t start that debate here).

Most of all, I think Satoru would thrive in the warmth of an Irish woman. We might be temperamental, battleaxes sometimes, and always a bit mad but one thing I know is we love wholeheartedly and fiercely, with every fibre of who we are. That belonging, the nurturing, the warmth and sheer sense of home that we all somehow tend to exude would made Satoru an incredibly happy man.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff

[hundredpocketed]

very warm, working away here, bumping into some tourists with very unpleasant vibes but also some lovely people which is just how it is i suppose!! we had a bad night out the other day with a weird man so we went home early and vowed not to go out again until the atmosphere is right. tried to write a poem or 2 but they're not working for some reason. but we did find this guy who looks a lot to me like mr tayto!

#if you have any recommendations for places to visit in mexico (preferably places that aren't full of americans.....) let me know plz! 💌

[sandwichtribunal]

The Irish Chicken Fillet Roll

"It all came together to something entirely pleasant to eat, nothing to write home about perhaps but if every sandwich inspired you to write a letter, eventually your wrist would get too tired to lift the next sandwich." The Irish Chicken Fillet Roll

There’s an Irish market called Winston’s near my house, two towns over but really just a couple miles down the road, and it’s one of my favorite places to grab a snack or a sandwich. I buy white and black puddings there, Irish bacon, meat pies, and my favorite Tayto brand Pickled Onion potato crisps. It’s also a reliable stop for UK products as well–it’s where I buy the HP sauce and the Colman’s…

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#butter #chicken breast #french roll #fried chicken #lettuce #mayonnaise #shredded cheese

[chaosintheavenue]

This anon situation feels like something that you would write. I mean you wrote the "Tayto fic".

I in fact did not, that was Mouse! Though I did witness it being written live in a stream chat and contribute indirectly (e.g. Jammy Dodger Lad is only called that because of my influence).

#thanks for the ask! #anon #mr tayto x tesco man #I see your point though

[gabrielagrestesaplus-moving]

#im working on the rewrite i swear #it's just too fun to write stupid reveals/deaths for gabriel #gabriel agreste's a+ parenting #gabriel agreste #gabriel ml #hawkmoth #hawkmoth ml #fuck gabriel agreste #gabriel agreste salt #miraculous ladybug #mlb #meme #tayto talks

[jenoptimist]

THREE PARO UPDATES??? i've been blessed

it’s what u deserve 😌💙

#for some reason i can never control myself and upload one (1) update #i don’t think i ever have and i probably never will sksksks #do u like this meme?? i was gonna use a different one at first #but man i miss tayto 😔🤚🏼 #a tayto crisp sandwich would be delicious rn omg #also jas’ character is so difficult 😭 #like how do u write a protagonist cause im trying my best #but i feel like im trying too hard or something 🥴 #i hope everyone is doing well! keep urselves hydrated!!! #anon 🪐

[immortalled]

“ten bucks for that piece of crap?” - @thehorsefrom​

          All those popstars singing about California being hot shit? Nathan would like to write each and every one of them a nasty letter. Forget “hot shit”, California is just “shit”. Period. Full stop. Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars.

          But then popstars (heavy emphasis on “stars”) probably aren’t bumming it on the streets, living off what they can beat out of vending machines and dig out of garbage bins. They get sweet trailers and mansions, and hot girls, and parties... God, he missed parties. And girls. He’d never had a cool trailer or a mansion, but he’s sure if he had, he’d miss those, too.

          Nathan’s just about to start making a mental list of all the other things he misses (hot showers, Taytos, good chocolate, his mum doing his laundry, Kelly...) when a voice breaks his train of thought. Squinting against the sun, he looks up.

          A horse. Of course.

          “What was that, mate...?” Nathan leans into the stranger’s shadow and shields his eyes. Did he say ten bucks? For what? Shit, why don’t you pay attention? What’s this guy askin’ for? Your weed? A blowie? 

          He’s just about to get irate about that, mouth already opening for a grumpy piss off, before he notices the guy is pointing. Nathan looks. Parked next to him is a dinky motorised scooter. “Piece of crap” might be looking at it a bit generously; it’s seen better days in the California sun, that’s for sure.

          “What? That? That’s not m—” 

          No, shut up! He’s offering you ten dollars! That’s ten more than you have in your pockets right now! You could buy a pizza with that money. Or doughnuts! Or a few cheap drinks. Or, like... at least several dozen of those sticky hand toys you liked so well as a kid. Imagine the hours you’ve wasted by bein’ bored and sticky hand-less. Well no more! Ten bucks and your possibilities are endless!

            “—I mmmmeannn, that’s not nearly enough! What do I look like, an idiot?” Nathan stands up from the curb and gives a cursory look around for the owner. All clear so far. “Make it fifteen and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

#thehorsefrom #thank you for indulging me omg i love bjh #i got a little carried away with this one lol #long term unemployable [post-series verse];

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag week, Day 1: Love Languages

((So glad I managed to squeeze this off before midnight!))

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

In My Arms

Kagome's return to the medieval period, being as long-awaited as it was, did not pass without fanfare. The village had welcomed her back with open arms, and held a small festival to celebrate - nothing too extravagant, it was still planting season after all, but it was amazing to know just how many people had missed her, beyond her core group of feudal friends.

By the time the first month passed, things had mostly settled into a routine that Kagome was only too happy to fall into. The familiarity had kicked in, even as she adjusted to the vast changes that had been made in her absence.

Shippo had hit an early growth spurt and almost came up to her hip now. He was still quite short for his age, but she didn't expect that he would get very tall. Sango and Miroku had babies, two beautiful little girls and the most adorable baby boy Kagome had seen since Sota was born. Fatherhood had relaxed Miroku, if only by a little, and Sango was the most fiercely protective mama bear, exactly as Kagome had expected her to be. 

But the largest change, of course, was with Inuyasha. Kagome knew in her heart how they felt about each other, but they hadn't actually said it yet. A thin layer of the normalcy she remembered was still there - it was only a matter of a few days following her return that the two of them were bickering like no time had passed at all.

But no matter the argument or insult thrown, every barb was dulled by the fact that Inuyasha had barely stopped touching her since she returned.

Any time they sat down for a meal or conversation, he was tucked up against her side, assuming he hadn't sat first and pulled her right down into his lap. Walking through the village or woods? It was only a matter of time before his hand found her back or his fingers tangled with hers. He'd been favoring holding her hand more lately, but she supposed it was at least partially because she had made a habit of lifting their joined hands to kiss his knuckles. She'd noticed the way his expression softened when she did it, and if he'd had a tail - as she often wished he did, when they first met and she had struggled to read him - she was certain it would be wagging. 

She had almost asked about it, the first time she found him leaning on her during dinner the night she returned, but the way his ears drooped when she said his name stopped her in her tracks before she could say a word more. And hey, it wasn't as if she was complaining, right? Why would she? So she'd asked if he had enough rice and smiled at how he relaxed even further into her as the meal progressed. 

That evening, when he had sat up against the wall of Kaede's hut, putting himself between her and the door the way he always did, she had stayed in place for only a minute or two before crawling closer and resting her head in his lap.

From there, everything had just… fallen into place.

Now, a month into her new life, she knew she couldn't be happier with her decision. She'd taken up priestess training with Kaede again, and was always ready to help Sango with the kids. And Inuyasha was always nearby. He'd been more than a bit antsy as the weeks wore on, and Kagome found herself the tiniest bit relieved when Miroku came around to let Inuyasha know they'd been hired for an exorcism to the north, maybe two days walk from the village. She thought it would be a good opportunity for Inuyasha to let off some steam - he'd been in the village with her for a month now, and she knew too well how anxious that could make him.

"Nah. I'm not feelin' it this time around. You and Shippo can handle it, right?"

Sango and Kagome looked up from where Hisui was laying, Sango arching a brow at him while Kagome's furrowed in confused concern.

"Are you sure, Inuyasha? Everything's been so peaceful lately, it might be a while before we get another job."

"Yeah, I'm good. Hey! Maybe Sango can go and Kagome and I can handle the brats!"

The way Sango picked up the baby and held him to her while glaring daggers at Inuyasha said that they would not be allowed to "handle the brats" without her just yet. Kagome stood from her spot on the grass, picking up a nearby bucket.

"I'm… gonna go get more water for the kettle," she hummed, only getting a few paces away before she heard footsteps start up behind her. 

She led Inuyasha a little ways away from the rest of the group, waiting until he reached out to tangle his fingers with her free hand to speak.

"I think you should go with Miroku."

"He'll be fine on his own. We haven't run into anything too powerful in over a year."

"That's not what I mean, and I think you know it," she hummed, pulling him closer and releasing his hand so she could wrap her arm around his middle. No escaping this conversation. She saw his ears lower, but his arm automatically mirrored hers. "Don't get me wrong; I love having you close at hand every minute of every day. I love holding hands and cuddling at night. But we need to be able to go off and do our own thing for a while. It's been a month since I got back, and you're already going stir-crazy."

"I'm fine, it's not a big deal," he but back, sounding more than a little grumpy.

"Oh, please. I know you well enough to know when you're itching for a fight. Really, Inuyasha, you can leave the village for a couple of days! Sango and I can look after the kids and hold down the fort until you get back."

"It's not that simple. What if-"

"If anything happens here, Sango and I can handle it. Shippo and Kilala will take the kids somewhere safe while we deal with whatever demon decides that attacking us is worth dying for."

"Kagome-"

"And again, zero complaints about the cuddling, but you really don't need to babysit me! I'll be right where you left me when you come back-"

"You disappeared in front of my eyes! If you're going to get taken away from me again, I at least want to be here to say goodbye!"

Kagome felt her eyes go wide, and Inuyasha winced a little at his own outburst. A brief, tense silence fell between them before Kagome's expression went soft, and she reached out, placing her hands gently on the sides of his face.

"It's happened before." Inuyasha tersely reminded her, eyes cast downward. "The jewel's come back before, it could happen again, and I don't- I can't lose you again. But if something is gonna take you away, I want to at least hold you until you go."

She took a deep breath, an apologetic look crossing her face. Inuyasha had gradually become more physically affectionate over their time together, so while she'd expected a little separation anxiety, she had thought the new closeness was just the natural expression of their relationship. She wished she had noticed his concern sooner, if only so that she could have assuaged his fears.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmured, waiting until his amber eyes met hers. "I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore. I couldn't say why, but I'm as certain as I can be, I'm here to stay. I know it's scary. Being back here with you all has felt like a dream, and sometimes I worry I'm going to wake up." 

She pulled his face down so she could press her forehead to his. Her hands moved down his chest and wrapped around his middle, giving him a warm smile.

"But I'm here. You're not getting rid of me that easily again. And if a human, a demon, or fate itself tries to take me away again, you know I'll fight tooth and nail to get back to you."

She felt his arms close around her, and he leaned a little more heavily into her, eyes falling shut. In a voice smaller than any she'd ever heard from him before, he asked, "Promise?"

"I promise," she murmured back, squeezing him tight against her. "So here's what's going to happen: You're going to go with Miroku. You're gonna exorcize whatever Demon you've been hired to handle. And in a few days time, you'll be back in my arms. Just like you are now. Okay?"

Inuyasha sighed, but after a moment, offered a small smile, pulling away enough to meet her eyes again.

"Okay," he finally allowed, reaching up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. 

"Good. Now hurry on - the sooner you get going, the sooner you'll be back."

#Inuyasha #inukag #inukag week #inukag week day 1 #inukag week 2023 #tayto writes

[chokemewanda]

Luck of The Irish

Bucky Barnes x F!Irish!Reader

Please know this is an absolute piss take I had to write for the sake of my sanity because I could not get an Irish!Reader out of my mind. It’s going to be very hard for the majority of you to relate or understand the reader but enjoy a look into real Irish stereotypes 😂 @buckybarneschokeme enjoy hun 😩

Warnings: swearing, obscure references

Masterlist

“That’s not how this works.” You barely paid the metal armed man any mind as you swung the lump of ash between your hands like your father had thought you to.

“Sure what would you know?” You grunted, sliding your hand down the length of the hurl and decapitating the alien in one go.

“Apparently nothing.” He answered quickly, shooting the next robot to appear.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. These whores don’t stop.” You swung again and again. Your granny had been right when she warned you to take the hurl to America. Even if there was no one to play with, it would come in useful.

You felt almost like you should give her a ring and ask her to light a candle for your situation. It had helped during the leaving, why not against aliens?

///

“Sure for fuck sake. What do ya think I’m gonna do with that?” You asked in horror, mug in hand. Bucky looked confused and you glared at the machine he had pointed you to.

“Uh, use it? To make tea?” He offered but from the sound of his voice you knew he knew he was wrong.

“Without a kittle?” You asked in shock.

“A kettle? We don’t really have those over here.” Bucky told you honestly and you your upper lip lifted in disgust.

“If I used a microwave to make tea my ancestors would appear to bate me with a stick. Fucking microwave.” You told him like it was life or death and he had failed you epically.

///

“You ever been to the bog son? You ever been slaving away in the scorching heat with only a flask of tea as thick as tar and a few tayto sandwiches to get you through?” You asked and Bucky scrunched his nose up in confusion before shaking his head.

“I don’t think so. When did you go through that?” He asked as if it was a form of mental torture.

“Every summer from I was old enough to walk. I’d be in the back of the tractor with Daddy and he’d have us out as soon as the sun rose and we’d not be back until the evening.” You told him, looking up from the magazine you were reading and finding Bucky’s horrified expression.

“I thought Hydra was bad.” You scoffed and shook your head.

“Awh it was worth it in the end. Your arse would be warm for the winter and Daddy would bring us to the pub after for a lucozade and a bag of tayto.” You told him, patting his head earnestly when you walked past him to switch on the kettle you had made Tony buy for the Tower.

“I’m never sure if you had a good childhood or not.” Bucky told you honestly and you shrugged.

“I had an Irish childhood.” You told him honestly.

///

“Sounds like a rough day at the office?” You told him, unsure and Bucky looked up from where his head was buried in your lap.

“Have you ever had a hostile terrorist organization try to take over?” He asked and you shrugged

“I mean yeah, but we call them the Brits.” You told him and he laughed. “Bet them up the North and couldn’t get them any further.”

“Some day.” He promised you, his voice muffled against your stomach as you combed through his hair.

///

“You ever consider playing county?” You asked Sam, looking up as he caught the baseball Bucky threw. “You’d have to ditch the glove and pick up a hurl but we could do with you on the Laois team.”

“County?” Sam asked and Bucky watched you with a grin. He had yet to figure out what you were talking about half the time but his teammates had no chance.

“Aye, with a catch like that you could be a senior inter-county hurler in no time. You get free gear and a lunch on Sunday.” You told him. He moved closer to where you were lying in the shade because you burned when the lightbulb was too bright never mind the scorching sun.

“I have literally no clue what you’re talking about.” Sam looked to Bucky for help but he was not going to be of any help.

“D’ya ate sweets?” You asked seriously.

“Like candy?” He asked in confusion at the change of conversation. “Sometimes.”

“You’ll have to cut that out. D’ya do push-ups?” You asked and he nodded. “Good. D’ya ate your broccoli and the sort?”

“Vegetables? Yeah.” He looked to Bucky again but all he was doing was laughing at your serious attitude.

“You’ll make county then. You’ll need to practice every night and give up the pints but you’ll be good. I can tell.” You we’re struggling to hold in your laughter but Sam’s face tipped you off.

“What the fuck Barnes? Get your leprechaun on a leash.” You stopped laughing immediately.

“We don’t joke about the leprechauns. Look what happened to poor Darby O’Gill.” You blessed yourself with a solemn face and Sam looked panicked.

///

“Happy St. Patty’s day.” You knew he was bullshitting you but you still threw your elbow back into his gut and he groaned in your ear. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve offended my whole culture. Even the English didn’t do us this dirty.” You told him, continuing to cook the breakfast. He had come to love the morning ‘fry’ as you called it and it was your job to cook enough for everyone every morning.

“Stupid sausages.” You cursed for the billionth time.

“You’d miss the Clonakilty Sausages.” Bucky spoke up, his put upon Irish accent making you cringe.

“You’re a dick.”

#Irish!reader #mcu #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes blurb #I’m so sorry

[uniquedublin]

Get Spooky this Mid-Term

Looking for something spooky to do this mid-term? Whatever you’re into, there’s something for everyone. Here are our Top 7 Things to Do this Halloween!

1. Fingal Festival of Fire

Fun for all the family. Dress up and enjoy the live entertainment and spooktacular firework display. Swords, Blanchardstown, Balbriggan

2. Hellfire Hill Walks

Join hiddendublintours.com on a tour of the notorious Hellfire Club. Dating back to 1725 the club, nestled in the heart of the Dublin Mountains, has been linked with satanism, the occult and all things ghastly. Tours depart daily Halloween week at 7pm from Merchants Quay

3. Murder One International Crime Writing Festival

From crime writing workshops, to interviews and panel discussions, join famous authors and forensic pathologists for this literary festival. Crime writers can read their work or try your fate with a tarot card reading

-          Smock Alley Theatre and Pearse Street Library - murderone.ie

4. Wicked Adventures at Tayto Park

Capture the imagination of the young and old with Spooky stories and spell casting. fun interactive games and play for all ages.

5. Halloween at the National Wax Museum

Monsters, ghouls, and ghosts have taken over the museum and there’s only one way to get it back! Count all the little pumpkins dropped by the Pumpkin King and help save the day!

6. Creepy Creator tours at the GAA Museum

Tour the stadium, with the Museum’s mascot, Cluasóg the Irish hare before younger visitors can try their hand decorating a ceramic pumpkin or bat candle holder to take home.

7. Halloween Family Spooktacular Cycle

Fun for all the ages! From scavenger hunts, to ghostly stories, bring your own bike or rent one at the park and Get Active this Halloween!

#things to do dublin #things to do dublin halloween #things to do halloween #halloween dublin #halloween family spooktacular cycle #Creepy Creator tours at the GAA Museum #halloween phoenix park #halloween croke park #halloween smock alley #Halloween national wax museum #wicked adventures tayto park #halloween tayto park #Murder One International Crime Writing Festival #Hiddendublintours #hellfireclub #hellfireclubhalloween #fingalfestivaloffire #fireworksswords #fireworksblanchardstown #fireworksbalbriggan #fireworksfestivalfingal #halloween swords #halloween blanchardstown #halloween balbriggan #halloween festival fingal #halloweenfestivaldublin #halloweeneventsdublin #topthingstodo dublin #top things to do halloween #family fun halloween

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Thirteen. March, 2012. 

Niall can’t sleep. 

It’s three o’clock in the morning and he’s fucking exhausted and he’s in New York and he can’t sleep. The day’s been long: an early wakeup call, a never ending album signing at a mall somewhere in New Jersey, a long drive back to the hotel. He spent a few hours fucking around with Louis afterward, playing FIFA, eating pizza, just generally chatting shit and he’d felt fine, mostly, just tired, until now. 

For the most part, the homesickness thing hasn’t really gotten to Niall over the past two years—at least not the way it gets to Louis and Zayn and even Harry sometimes. He doesn’t spend hours curled up in his bunk on the bus on the phone to home, doesn’t feel like he needs things like Barry’s Tea or Club chocolate bars to Tayto crisps to remind him of what he left behind. He loves Ireland, of course he does, but he loves adventure, too—he loves the wide, open roads of American highways, the constant hum of New York City outside his window, the unmatchable energy of screaming fans everywhere he goes. It feels like he’s made a good trade off, if he’s honest—he had to lose to gain, but, most of the time, he doesn’t feel like he’s lost all that much. 

But today was St. Patrick’s Day. All day he’d fielded questions about Ireland: about what he misses, what his favorite slang words are, what he wants to do whenever he goes back next, as if he even knows when he’ll be able to go home again. By the middle of the day it felt like someone was banging him over the head with a hammer, shouting at him to miss Ireland, think about Ireland, call home to Ireland. 

And then there was a girl. She was one of the last ones in line for the signing and couldn’t have been older than six, long blonde hair, a shy look on her face. She clung to her mom’s leg and looked up at the five of them with wide eyes, like she couldn’t quite believe they were real, and when Louis asked for her name she whispered ‘Isla,’ standing up on her tippy toes to watch Louis scribble it onto her copy of the album. 

Bang, Niall felt, hammer over his head again. Bang, bang, fucking bang. 

And now he can’t sleep. And he can’t stop thinking about it. And St. Patrick’s Day is technically over but he feels weird, antsy, a little clammy. He wants to take a walk but not through the city, his only option right now—he’s thinking about backroads in Mullingar, overgrown fields and muddy ground along the canal. He needs to move: to jump, to run, to do something that isn’t laying on his back in a hotel bed and staring at the ceiling. 

He needs to talk to Isla. 

They’re not talking anymore. It was an on purpose decision, one they made together a few weeks after the breakup, when he’d called her in the middle of the night to tell her about a movie he’d just watched and she told him this had to stop, told him it was too painful to keep talking the way they used to, told him they had to take this break up seriously, if that’s what he really wanted. 

They’d drawn a hard line in the sand then: no talking except for birthdays, holidays, and emergencies, and all conversation had to be strictly platonic. Isla’d offered to write up an official contract for them both to sign, Niall���d told her it wouldn’t be binding until she actually got accepted into law school. She’d laughed and hung up on him, and that had been the end of it, really. He hadn’t even had time to see her over Christmas, because he was only home for three full days. 

And so, when Niall does crack at 3:47 in the morning New York time, he shouldn't be surprised that Isla answers the phone with simply, ‘are you okay?’

‘Hello to you too,’ he says, warmth immediately pooling in his stomach. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Why are you calling me, then?’ Isla sounds a little tired and Niall does some quick math: 8:47 am in Ireland, on a Sunday. ‘This is a breach of the contract.’ There’s a smile in her voice, one Niall matches instantly. 

‘Is not. St. Patrick’s Day is a holiday.’

‘That was yesterday,’ Isla says, feigning annoyance even though Niall can hear her laughing. The sound of it melts over him like a duvet, warm and familiar. Safe. ‘And it doesn’t count.’

‘Why the fuck doesn’t it count? It’s our country’s national holiday, it should count the most.’

‘You don’t live here anymore,’ a rustling sound, a chirping bird. Isla’s outside. ‘It doesn’t count for you.’

‘I respectfully disagree, barrister,’ Niall settles down a little more comfortably in bed, imagines Isla’s smile. ‘As a citizen of the great nation of Ireland and a budding national treasure I retain all my rights to—’

‘Shut up,’ she laughs. ‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing, really,’ Niall admits, shrugging his shoulders even though Isla can’t see. ‘Couldn’t sleep, thought you might be able to bore me to death.’

‘Time’s it for you?’ Niall hears a gust of wind down Isla’s end of the phone, bites back the sudden urge to ask if she’s wearing a jacket. 

‘Uh, nearly four in the morning. I’m in New York.’

‘Sick. Have you eaten one of those massive hot dogs?’

‘Yeh, first day we got here,’ Niall laughs. It had been one of the first things he and Liam did. ‘They’re so good.’

‘You there for a few more days? Hasn’t your mam got cousins in New York? You should call round.’

‘I did, saw them the other day. The kids are super cute,’ he ignores the stirring in his stomach, the way it gives him butterflies to know that Isla remembers these kinds of things. This is strictly platonic. He carries on, ‘don’t want to talk about me, though. What are you up to? Sounds like you’re outside.’

‘Observational,’ Isla laughs, and Niall imagines her giggling in the early morning sunlight, March frost curling in the air. ‘I stayed over at Emilia’s last night, just came out in the garden to take your call since she’s still asleep.’

‘Oh, did ya? Girls’ night?’

‘No, bit of a party, actually,’ Isla says, and Niall hates how it clangs in his stomach, hates how he still feels left out knowing that his friends are having fun without him, that life carries on when he’s away. His life now is more exciting than he ever could have imagined—yet somehow the thought of his mates drinking cans in Mully’s basement without him makes him jealous, makes him forget about just how much he dreamt of what he has now. ‘Everyone was here.’

‘Ah, what was the occasion?’ Niall tries to keep his voice light, not like he’s digging. ‘Paddy’s Day, or?’

‘Yeah, Paddy’s Day. And celebrating, too.’

‘Celebrating what?’ Niall feels suddenly like he’s missed something. 

‘Uh, me,’ says Isla, sounding a little embarrassed, and a little confused. ‘I, erm. I got into King’s College last week. The law program.’

It feels like he’s been in a car, going 75 miles on the freeway, and had to slam on the breaks. It feels like whiplash, like falling on his face, like that hammer from earlier, bang, bang, fucking bang, life goes on without him. ‘Isla,’ he manages to say, deep breath in, deep breath out, ‘what the fuck?’

‘Sorry?’ she asks, confused. ‘What do you mean what the fuck?’

‘You didn’t tell me?’ He tries not to sound angry, accusatory, but there’s a feeling he doesn’t recognize bubbling over in his stomach. The fact that something like this could happen in Isla’s life and he didn’t get to be a part of it makes him feel like someone else. 

‘Niall, we agreed—’

‘This counts as an emergency,’ he insists, sitting up in bed. He feels cold all of a sudden, like he wants a blanket, or her body, on top of him. ‘Isla, holy shit. I’m so fucking happy for you. I mean, I knew you’d get in but still, fuck, I can’t believe this is happening.’ It’s not a lie, the fact that he’s happy for her. But, he thinks, a rank feeling he doesn’t like still curdling away in his stomach, it’s not the whole truth. He should’ve been there with her when she got in. He hates himself for not. 

‘Thanks,’ Isla’s smiling, birds singing in the distance. Niall imagines her with her face turned toward the sun, her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around her body. He imagines her in his Derby jumper, the one he’d left in Mullingar for her to keep. ‘It’s a crazy feeling, isn’t it? I guess both our dreams have come true in the end.’

‘Yeah,’ Niall says, a tight cramp forming in his stomach, a lump pressing against his throat. ‘I guess they have.’

He can think of at least one dream of his own that hasn’t.

####

taglist: @stylishmuser @thicksniall @stayclose-holdsteady @niallhoranruinsme @ajayque @flickerswinehouse @1dfangirls35 @crocodileniall @halfpinthoran @awomanindeniall @booksncoffee

join the taglist here

#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #something about you #wooooooooo ok #I think this timeline might be a little whack but #we're just rolling with it lads

[unfortunate-arrow]

Birthday, Part 2: Party Planning

[Check out part 1, gift shopping.]

[Carewyn @carewyncromwell , Spencer and Becca @hphmbetty , Malcolm @cursebreakerelmswood and Artemis @no-moon-nor-stars ]

The kitchen table at the Burrow was overflowing. There were twelve occupants at the table, and they had a lot of different lists. They had about a week to get everything together, as the O’Donnell quads turned 16 on the 18th and it was the 12th. Aside from it being August, the quads’ birthday also happened to be a Friday, which made it a lot easier to throw the surprise party on their actual birthday. 

“So, where do we want to start? Food, music, decor?” Rowan Khanna asked, gesturing to the mess on the table in front of her. 

“Well, we’ve already sent the invitations and know that the O’Donnells aren’t doing anything that night, so maybe music?” Ash Khanna suggested. 

“Sure.” 

“I have a lot of records I could bring!” Carewyn suggested. 

“Okay.” Rowan reached onto the table and grabbed a piece of paper. She wrote the word “music” in big letters at the top. “So, which groups do we want?” 

“We need The Who for Conor. Ryan really likes The Beatles as well as The Rolling Stones. Cara likes the Stones as well. Sara’s good with more poppy stuff like Duran Duran,” Malcolm said. 

“Okay. Anything else?” 

“The Weird Sisters!” Carewyn exclaimed. 

“Okay! Spencer, Becca, Artemis any suggestions?” 

“Uh, I think I’ve heard Conor talk about U2 and R.E.M.,” Becca said. 

“Oh! How about Elton John or David Bowie?” Carewyn asked. 

“Sure. We could probably use one or two more groups after that,” Rowan said, continuing to jot down what the suggestions were. 

“How about Bruce Springsteen and the Clash?” Malcolm asked. 

“Okay. I think that’s good for music.”

“Shouldn’t we have some more wizarding music?” Charlie asked. 

“I haven’t heard them talk too much about wizarding music,” Bill said. “Usually, it’s muggle music.”��

“We should move on. Food or decor?” Rowan said, taking charge once again. 

She placed the paper with music down onto the table, and reached for another empty piece of parchment. 

“How about decor?” Artemis asked. 

“Sure,” Rowan said, writing the word “decor” in big letters at the top. “So, what kind of decorations do we want?” 

“The Bats!” Malcolm exclaimed. He got a few odd looks. He sighed. “The Ballycastle Bats, you know, the quidditch team. Let’s just have a couple Bats logos, maybe a Kenmare Kestrels logo as well.” 

“Well, three out of the four do like quidditch,” Penny commented. 

“Yeah. It doesn’t need to be a lot. Just a couple.” 

“Alright, you’ll be completely in charge of that, Malcolm,” Rowan said, jotting down “Bats” and “Malcolm.” 

“I think we should have red, green, blue, and yellow streamers and stuff,” Carewyn said. 

“I agree. That way each O’Donnell gets some individual recognition,” Artemis said. 

“Yeah. Maybe we put out like different tables and decorate each corner of the yard differently. Like a Ryan corner and Sara corner and Cara corner and Conor corner. Guests can put the individual gifts in each corner and then one in the middle or somewhere for the all four gifts.” 

“That’s a pretty good idea,” Rowan said, jotting down Carewyn’s idea. 

“Oh, Gracie and Tessa Chiva volunteered to bring some string lights for us to hang up,” Spencer said. 

“Ok. Does anyone else have any more decor ideas?” 

“Maybe we hang the Irish flag!” Tonks offered, smirking slightly. 

Rowan shook her head. “I‘ll put it down, but I don’t know if we’ll use it,” she said. 

“That’s fine.”

Rowan placed the decorations list onto the table and took another sheet of parchment. She wrote the word “food” in big letters at the top of the paper. 

“So, what’s on the menu?” Rowan asked. 

“Well, Mum volunteered to make the bulk of the actual like dinner,” Charlie said. 

“Okay. So what do we want for dinner, since the party starts at 6:30?” 

“It’s not dinner, exactly, but I can try and make soda bread. It’s a fairly traditional Irish bread,” Malcolm offered. 

“Sure. What should we add for dinner, though?” Rowan said, not looking up from the parchment as she jotted down Malcolm’s offer. 

“How's spaghetti? It’s simple and easy and I know the O’Donnells all like it. We could have a couple side dishes as well,” Penny suggested. 

Rowan watched as the majority of the group nodded. “Okay, so we need a few sides then. What do we think would work?” 

“Meatballs!” “Chips!” “Mashed potatoes!” “Garlic bread!” “Let’s add ham as a main dish!” Rowan jotted down the different suggestions. They didn’t seem too overwhelming. 

“How about we let Mrs. Weasley figure out what’s too much?” Rowan asked. 

“Mum’ll be fine doing whatever. She’ll enlist me and Charlie and our other siblings to help,” Bill said. 

“Okay, if you’re sure. We can move on to snacks and dessert, then.” 

“I’m positive.” 

Rowan sighed. “So who wants to bring what desserts or snacks?”

“I’ll bake chocolate chip cookies!” Spencer exclaimed, smiling. 

“I’m going to make red velvet brownies,” Carewyn said. 

“The Chiva twins said they’ll bring monkey bread,” Barnaby added. 

“Okay. Ash and I can bring cupcakes,” Rowan said, jotting down everything that had just been said. “Now, snacks. What do we need?” 

“Goldfish crackers. Conor’s addicted to them,” Artemis said. “They’re a muggle snack.” 

“Okay. Anything else?” 

“How about crisps of some type? The brand Tayto is big in Ireland,” Malcolm said. 

“Sure. Maybe we do a couple brands of crisps,” Rowan said. 

The group continued to add and debate things for a good fifteen more minutes. Then, before they adjourned for the night, they went through and assigned people jobs for the decorating. They agreed to meet on the 18th at 4:30 in order to start decorating, and made the agreement to send out reminders to all the invitees telling them to arrive between 6 and 6:30. They also double checked that they had actually agreed to invite the quads, because if they hadn’t it wouldn’t have been a great thing. 

#sorry if your mc is out of character #hphm #hogwarts mystery #rowan khanna #ash khanna #carewyn cromwell #spencer summers #becca summers #malcolm elmswood #artemis clair de lune #o'donnell quadruplets #bill weasley #charlie weasley #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #barnaby lee #my writing #sorry if your mc wasn't used all that much #hphm birthday party