#Irepol

[unhonestlymirror]

Ireland x Poland👀

I have new OTP now

[bonjourxrenae]

🇮🇪 🇵🇱 IREPOL FANFIC ARCHIVE 🍀 👑

Scéalta le Casadh by bonjourxrenae (@bonjourxrenae)

A historical one-shot about their first meeting - what starts as humble research becomes a quiet whirlwind romance:

Doctor O’Connor figured the best way to learn more about a nation was to glean that information from another nation. It had been the only reason Ireland came to Warsaw: to interview Poland, gather information, and help edit the manuscripts. In truth, he had become enchanted by the land during the few months he had stayed in Warsaw. The people were kind and devout, the kind of people Ireland felt warmest around. He had brought his flageolet and played for the children on the streets. The food and the folk dances comforted him, sunrises and sunsets were clear, and the reflection of the moon on the waters of the rivers and lakes had all but taken him under. He had become enamored. He understood what the doctor meant. He had to know more.

M’fhíorghrá / My true love by Felicja_Julieanne (@felicja-j)

A soft one-shot, wherein the two have other plans that don't involve staying at the UN formal:

“You’ve talked with your boss already, right?” “Yeah, but he ditched me the first occasion he had. Why?” Ireland smiles at him. “In that case, he knows you’re here. No one said we have to stay til the very end.” He pulls Poland a little closer, and lets himself rest his head against Poland’s hair. No one is looking in their direction anyway. “How about you run away with me, love?”

Of Irish coffee and milk tea by Felicja_Julieanne (@felicja-j)

A collection of drabbles, ranging from soft and domestic, to angst with character death.

A Game of Guinness Telephone by Husaria (@lithuanias)

Meet-cute Human AU one-shot, in which a stranger buys Ireland a pint at the pub... then promptly leaves before he can get a word in:

Alfred returned with another Guinness. Seán blinked. “Thanks, but I’m not even done—” “Oh, I know,” said Alfred. “This is from—” He gestured towards an empty barstool at the end of the car. “—he just left.” Seán swiveled around to look at the front door. “Who left?” “Some guy. He ordered you a Guinness. I…I thought he wanted to talk to you.” “Who was he?” “Beats me,” said Alfred. “First, he asked if we carried…a…I can’t even pronounce it and then just ordered a Guinness. I think we carry the beer he mentioned…Do we—?” Seán sipped his stout. “Did you get a name?” “Nope. Had an accent. I think he was Polish.” “What’d he look like?” “A bit shorter than you. Blond. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. Oh, and he had a white cat with him.”

The Seal Lord by bonjourxrenae (@bonjourxrenae)

Fantasy AU multi, featuring Ireland as a selkie and Poland as the young dignitary who accidentally summons him:

It was hard to say how much time had passed, or how many tears he’d wept. Get it together, he told himself, slapping his cheeks until his senses returned. Feliks breathed in the salty air, filled his lungs with the chill so deep it almost hurt. While he had the time, he listened to the hush of the waves against the shore, the cry of the gulls overhead… The airy sound of a tin whistle playing close by… Feliks turned toward the sound. In the haze of sundown, he saw him: a tall man with copper red hair bent over a stone, his feet buried in the sand. He was soaked to the bone, dressed in nothing but what appeared to be a large fur skin, glossy from the salt water. As he played, his thin fingers fluttered over the sound holes, trilling every other note. It was a song Feliks did not recognize, yet felt drawn to all the same. As he approached, the sand shuffled noisily beneath his shoes. The strange man drew away from the flute and looked over his shoulder at Feliks, a boyish smile curled on his lips. “Ah, so you’re the one what called for me.”

Sleepless by Felicja_Julieanne (@felicja-j)

A deeply emotional Human AU, in which Feliks realizes he's asexual and comes out to his partner:

Seán walks up to him, and sits on the other side of the windowsill seat. The moonlight shining on his face makes him seem more pale than usual, but it accents all the right angles, and seems to highlight all his freckles. Feliks almost wants to ask to paint him like this. Maybe another night. “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” Feliks answers. Too quick, he then realizes. “I just, uhm. Can’t sleep, I guess.” Seán raises his brows, and smiles. “And my guess, is that you’re lying.” Feliks feels his breath catch in his throat. “Y’know… whatever it is, you can tell me.” “There’s not-,” his first instinct is to defend himself, but then… he doesn’t. Avoiding this conversation has been draining him mentally. As much as Feliks is terrified to bring it up, he wants to talk to someone. He needs to. “I’ve- … It’s been a weird couple of weeks, I guess.” “Is everything okay?” Seán asks with concern. He leans forward, his hand on Feliks’s leg. He smiles with reassurance, but Feliks sees something else in his eyes. He must be worried, and Feliks doesn’t exactly blame him. He’s been way too distant lately. No wonder Seán knows something is going on. Feliks is terrible at hiding things. He turns to the window, resting his forehead against the cold glass, and closes his eyes for a moment.  “No, it’s not.”

[council-of-beetroot]

The most peculiar ships with Poland?

Peculiar Poland Ships hmm....

Welp i basically will ship anything if you sell me on it and there aren't that many fics and stuff out there for rare pairs with Feliks :(

Lietpol has 792

Prupol 66

Ruspol 29

Polhun 29

Frapol 29

Engpol 16

Poland x reader 15

Polbel 15

Itapol 13

Amepol 6

Irepol ? - explain at the one person who wrote all 6 of these fics explain this pairing and maybe I'll stop pretending Ireland doesn't exist

Gerpol 6

So before i can decide on what pairs i find peculiar i need to be exposed to more pairings so find me some new pairings and some fic recs people or write something i will read and comment if you do!

[thismustbetheblog]

This is a Mick Lynch stan account now

[maevefinnartist]

I just finished this, I'm gonna give it 4/5 stars

the majority of the contents of this book can be easily found in the Duchas.ie archive, so if you've spent a lot of time looking through those, this book might not be incredibly useful to you

BUT it does compile all of that valuable information (folk magic, folk remedies, sacred days, festival customs, saints days, pilgrimages, etc) all very neatly into a season-by-season order beginning with Imbolc, covering every significant day & its customs until the next year. it also has a chapter on birth, marriage, and death customs, followed by one on general spiritual well-being, and concluding with supernatural entities. I also love that the author does not shy away from some of the more grisly customs that would be unpalatable, or frankly illegal, by today's standards.

some issues I had with the book: the author is often redundant and repeats things, the writing is a little stilted, obviously this isn't really a big problem. there were also a few instances of the author comparing aspects of Irish folk magic to voodoo that were...uncomfy and ill-informed.

[felicja-j]

acetalia week day 3: self discovery

im late whoops this prompt fits a fic i wrote not so long ago so i thought why not draw a little thing to go with it

just a very late night with some interesting thoughts 

[hwspoland]

Few Po historical headcanons that help me to get thru the day

in no real order, just- feel the feels

the name Łukasiewicz he’s chosen after the fall of the communism

in 1940 he was thrown to one of concentration camps but he got freed by Czochralski to work with Weigl as a pediculus-feeder. In 1942 he run away to France and with his help he got to Britain. From there he and his boys (and girls!) helped the lesser assholes Allies win the war.

he has a pin with Maria Skłodowska Curie on his favorite jacket

he sews most of his clothes because of how poor he was in PRL (or ‘Polish People Republic’ a k a  e v r y t h i n g b u t r e p u b l i c o f p o l i s h p e o p l e), so he had to be creative

America sent him, Prussia and Hungary clothes and stuff from outside the curtain (i don’t have to explain what the curtain was... do i?)

still has a jacket of one of his boys from dywizjon 303

he always goes to the graves of his loved ones (Chopin, Ulam, Curie, Banach, etc.) in november

on 11th of november always goes on Wawel to check on ghosts of Słowacki & Mickiewicz if they didn’t kill each other, on Kościuszko - his heart and pride - on his beautiful Kings and on Żulik (Piłsudski) the man whom he loved, loves and will love and be greatful to for the rest of eternity

is in love with science and could never live without it

is kind of hurt by how England, France and others choose to forget him and his children but he chooses not to show it and do his work

has such a resting bitch face Western Europeans get shivers (it’s worse than Germany’s and Sweden’s taken together, trust me)

does not trust any of the western countries, honestly. (maybe Ireland and Scotland but just a little)

He met Scotland in 1942 when at Scot’s place his boys (and girl!) were training to become the Silent Unseen. That’s where Scotland fallen a bit in love with him. (But hey-! You could have a bit of a crush on him, too, especially after all this stories Ireland had told him)

While on the run he met with Hungary - that’s where he met Chrissy Granville for the first time - they cried. a lot. then she gave him food, water, supplies and cigarettes.

those are mostly 20th century, but I just had lots of feels on WW2 today, sorry not sorry

[gnostic-heretic]

@felicja-j your wish granted 🍀

[eternal-night-owl]

Sheep Can Be Gay, Steven

A short IrePol drabble (with mentioned Toris/Felicja, their daughter Nancy, and sheep!) It’s a bit short to post on ao3, so I’m just putting it here instead.

A gift fic for my friend @felicja-j for finishing all her finals! Congratulations Fela! I hope you like this!

a ghrá- Irish for “my love”

“I can’t believe I convinced my sister and Toris to finally take a day off,” Feliks said as his husband was offering one of the curious sheep by the fence an apple. In his arms wiggling around was his 10 month old niece, Nancy.

“I know, I don’t think those two have had a night out to themselves since little Nance here was born,” he walked over towards the pair and reached over, patting the child on the head and messing up her flower headband.

“Hey, be careful! I don’t want you ruining her flower crown, I spent good money on this,” He dusted off the dirt and adjusted it back to its proper place.

Seán looked back at the fence. “Well, it looks like the sheep are taken care of, are you still up for a picnic?”

Feliks beamed “Yeah! Let me go get the basket. Can you hold her for a sec? Wait,” Feliks stopped himself, looking down at Seán’s hands, “You go get it, and wash your hands while you’re there.”

Seán held back an eyeroll. “A little dirt isn’t gonna kill her. But if it makes you feel better…” he trailed of, noticing the look his husband was giving him.

After Seán left, Feliks looked at his niece. “What? We can’t have him ruining that pretty dress of yours.”

When Seán returned, hands clean and picnic basket in hand, they set down the blanket, and began their meal. Seán pulled out a jar of mashed carrots, and began feeding them to Nancy, spoonful by spoonful. Feliks smiled at the two as he picked a chocolate pastry from the basket and took a bite. He’s gonna make a great father someday.

Seán noticed and smiled back at him, and leaned over to give him a kiss.

“You’re so pretty when you smile, a ghrá, Seán whispered in his ear, sending goosebumps all over his body.

Their intimate moment was interrupted by a loud baa on the other side of the fence.

Nancy looked over towards them and laughed “ba! ba!”

Seán and Feliks laughed too, at the sudden interruption. “I think she likes them,” Seán said with a grin. Feliks reached over and picked up the young girl, taking her closer to the sheep.

“Yes, baa! That’s what the sheep say, baa.” He pointed to the two sheep that were closest to the fence, and looked back at Nancy. “Can you tell me what that is?

Nancy looked closely at the ewes, cuddled up close with one licking the other’s face. With a big smile on her face, she pointed at them, yelling at the top of her lungs “Gay!”

“No sweetie, they’re actually- wait, what?”

Seán, who heard Nancy walked over to her husband. “Did… did she just say what I think she said?”

“I think so,” Feliks looked back at his niece, breaking into a grin so wide that only a proud uncle could be capable of. “She said her first word! Seán, we taught her so well!”

“Yeah, I suppose we did,” he chuckled. “I bet Toris and Felicja will be thrilled to hear that she finally said her first word.”

“Oh crap,” Feliks’s smile dropped. “She said her first word and they weren’t here to see it. My sister is so going to kill me…”

Seán rolled his eyes. “You worry too much Feli, she’ll be proud of her little one.”

“You don’t know her as well as I do, she once cut my hair in my sleep when we were kids because I stole her favorite Barbie.”

“Well, if she tries to cut your hair in your sleep again, I’ll protect you, a ghrá.”

He leaned over to kiss Feliks on the forehead, earning himself a giggle. “My knight in shining armor.”

“Gay!” Nancy said again, making her uncles blush. “Well, she’s not wrong,” Seán murmured under his breath.

“Hey, want to go pet the gay sheep, Nance?” Feliks asked, directing her attention elsewhere.

As Seán watched his husband enthusiastically teach their niece how to pet the sheep, he smiled. He’s gonna make a great father someday.

[lithuanias]

Title: A Game of Guinness Telephone Rating: G Pairing: Ireland/Poland Word Count: 1,648 Summary: A stranger with a cat on a leash buys Seán a pint at a pub...and promptly leaves before Seán can talk to him. Notes: Ko-fi commission for @felicja-j . Thank you!

[casualmaraudering]

tagged by @remywrites5 and @whom-ping-willow thank you guys!!! I completely blanked and forgot to to this SORRY

rules: tag three people you'd like to get to know better

top 3 ships:

1. IrePol (my rarepair helltalia days will never leave me don't judge me)

2. Wolfstar

3. Jily, RK1000 (D:BH)

Lipstick or chapstick: surprisingly I wear lipstick more often even tho my lips are dry and awful and I should switch to chaptstick

Last song: The Stigma (Boys Don't Cry) by AS IT IS

Last movie: Klaus (which was a while ago on Xmas)

Reading: The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Watching: nothing at the moment, but The Alienist is next on my list

Not tagging anyone cause I'm pretty sure everyone I know was tagged already, but if anyone wants to do this, I tag you!

[pokytoad]

a9 b8 c1 d2 binch >:33

A9. Who was your first ship?

My very, very first ship, the ship that first set sail in the tossing waves of my indecisive heart,, was Graystripe/Firestorm (NOT Firestar bitch he changed when he got his nine lives) from the Warriors Cats arc sue me I’m not sorry

B8. Is there a show or book that you gave up on that you went back to later? Why did you come back to it?

The Redwall books by Brian Jacques!! If my prior answer is any indication I was really into like,, woodland animal-narrated fantasy series when I was in grade school and I read Redwall once but was too #feral on Warriors at the time to appreciate the sweet, docile monk mice living their best farming lives in an abbot far far away. When I went back tho,, baby I was hooked.

C1. What trope are you tired of reading? Why?

I’m honestly?? kind of a sucker for romantic tropes, as Kaitlin can attest. I stay away from the Shitty tropes (you know the ones and I’m not gonna get into them but lets say rusliet is a breeding ground for unnecessary, Bad, Violent tropes :^) ).. Realistically tho my least favorite is probably the whole genre of obligatory gay representation character tropes that pops up often in critically acclaimed series/movies/shows. What can I say its just bad writing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

D2. Who/Where did you get your last fic rec from?

HMMMMM…… I actually don’t get many of those these days, but the last fic promo I saw that’s still in my queue to read is @felicja-j‘s most recent irepol fic, Sleepless :3

[bonjourxrenae]

Alright - I need to get back into fic writing. But I have too many ideas rattling in my brain, too much motivation to work on All The Things, and I gotta narrow it down.

[thismustbetheblog]

No you haven’t woken up in the 1840s...this is just the Tory party 2018

[maevefinnartist]

An Scuab - The Besom in the Irish Tradition - from @ScoilBheanFeasa on instagram, compiled from Dúchas accounts

"A Scuab (pronounced skoo-ab) meaning besom, broom or brush in Irish. A Crann scuaibe is a broomstick. A Scuab Chaillí (witches broom) is a deformity in a tree that resembles a witches broom or bird's nest. Giolcach Shléibhe (mountain reed) is similar to Gorse but without spindles, known commonly as Broom. Giolcach Nimhe Butcher's Broom or Knee Holly, as butchers would clean their chopping blocks with it.

There are many accounts on Dúchas about the common trade of broom making. People would gather long bundles of Heather or Heath in the mountains or bogs to pluck and dry out. Tie them to a birch pole with a yard of dethorned briar, to be sold at market for a ha'penny. Many of the old people preferred to use Heather instead of the Broom plant as it was often thought witches travelled on broom sticks.

Damhsa ar an Sean Nós/ Damhsa na Scuab - Old Style Dancing/ The Brush Dance still performed today, involves dancing over a broom on the floor.

At Imbolg (Lá Fhéille Bride) the house was completely swept out and a broom was dressed up for people to dance with.

On Bealtaine morning dew was collected on a broom and each cow was struck three times for good luck. In olden days a broom was often built into the wall of a house to bring good luck.

At matchmaking events and weddings young people or the bride and groom jumped a broom or the groom carried the bride over a broom.

In Sídhe lore if a woman or child is rescued from being 'away with the fairies' a broom would often appear in place of the changeling or in their coffin. Other tales of the Sídhe taking people to rid out at night. If they praised the fairy horse they were on, it would turn into a broom.

An old Irish curse known as Burying the Bridóg was said to be performed by dressing up a heath broom to represent the person being cursed. Then 12 women with the same Christian name sat and keened over it. It was then buried, as it decayed the person's health faded. The broom was dug up before the person died.

An Irish saying when using a new broom, Scuab úr scuabann sí glan. (skoo-ab oor skooab-awn shee glahn). Meaning, a new broom sweeps clean."

[felicja-j]

Title: Sleepless

Pairing: Ireland/Poland

Word count: 2232

Summary:

He can’t sleep; it's often been the case lately. He’s had way too much on his mind the past few weeks.

For most of his life, he thought he’s gay.

It couldn’t have been anything else.

I needed some more ace Poland in my life, so here yall go, there is He