#female irish

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

John Lavery (Irish, 1856-1941) Her First Communion, 1902 National Gallery of Ireland

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

Henry Jones Thaddeus (1859-1929) "The Wounded Poacher" Oil on canvas Realism Located in the National Gallery of Ireland, Dublin, Ireland

[yourdailyqueer]

Elizabeth Kerekere

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

DOB: Born 1965

Ethnicity: Māori, Irish

Nationality: New Zealander

Occupation: Politician (Independent/Green), activist, artist

Note: In Māori language Elizabeth identifies herself as someone who is Takatāpui.

[athleticperfection1]

Irish Olympian Sophie Becker

[thunderstruck9]

Genieve Figgis (Irish, 1972), Lady and her Dog, 2012. Oil on panel, 23 x 16¾ in.

[solcattus]

Portrait of Mary Palliser

By Frederic William Burton

[paintinganangel]

zombie (music video) by The Cranberries

[star-wrote]

hello❤️i just saw your blog! im irish so i was wondering can you do whatever fic you write with an irish reader? i think the accent and the slang difference would be fun to read! you don’t have to specify the fic on r being irish just a fic wheres r is irish hope i could explain that!😅

Leannán

ao3 link

Characters: Farm Era Daryl Dixon x Irish!Reader

A/N: so excited for this request !! thank you love! i have irish heritage so this was so fun to write(and also incredibly self-indulgent). i decided on daryl since it would be the most difference in accents:) also feel like i totally didn’t do this justice, it feels kinda short and rushed…but i had fun so slay!!

Warnings: fluff, love confession, bad accent writing, cursing, reader is sort-of mentioned to have green eyes(very self indulgent), reader knows irish gaelic (yes i know the language is practically dead, it’s just so pretty)

Word Count: 605

not my character | images from pinterest

Making fun of your accent is one of Daryl’s favorite activities.

You know he likes to see your face get all red, cartoon steam coming out of your ears. It reminds you of the little boys on the playground who would push you to the dirt as a way of flirting.

Not that he would ever admit that it was flirting.

Luckily, you could take the teasing… and dish it right back.

“You sure are one ta talk; what with your grunts and yee haws.” You shove his shoulder as he eats his breakfast with you by the fire.

“Ain’t say yee haw,” he pouts, “and ya jus’ say weird words fer things. Like tha’ one fer kiss.”

You smirk at him. “What, póg? Why, ya want one?”

“Stop.” He rolls his eyes.

That’s how your usual conversations with the arm-swinging grump went.

Days on the Greene farm were usually quite relaxed after the chores for the day got done. You’ve found yourself drawn to Daryl more and more after every conversation, his soft spot for you becoming apparent to everyone. Maybe it’s because you both felt like outsiders in the group. In a weird way, you felt like he understood you… even if he quite literally couldn’t sometimes.

“Shite.” You curse under your breath. Lugging water to the house from the well was tough work, but work you’d rather be doing compared to washing clothes or making food. Curse you and your feminist ambition.

“Need some help, Irish?”

You blush at the nickname that has become common from the mouth of Daryl Dixon. “I do, please.” You sigh as you hand a bucket of water to him. “Why are you back so early? The sun’s only mid-sky.”

“Was hopin’ you’d wanna go on a hunt with me. Could use the help.” He grabs the other bucket from your hand as well, carrying them both with no difficulty.

“I doubt that you, mister hunter man, king of the wild, actually need help with hunting. But, I’ll gladly join.” You smile while stretching out your sore back.

He finishes your chore for you, Lori tossing a “thanks” over her shoulder on your way out of the farmhouse.

Hunting with Daryl feels like one of the most peaceful things in the world, obviously ignoring the occasional walker.

You trail quietly behind him, soaking up the nature around you while he does all of the work.

However, you know he wouldn’t have it any other way. He just likes your company.

“Ya know… yer eyes remind me of the woods. My favorite place.”

You’re sure your eyebrows raise to your hairline after hearing his statement. You’ve never heard him speak so directly before.

He stops abruptly, causing you to walk into his back.

When he turns around, you can see the blush that reaches his ears. He was nervous.

“Daryl, what are you trying to tell me?”

He kicks at a clump of grass. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t, it’s okay, you can tell us.”

He smiles a little at you using “us” instead of “me.”

“I think I like ya, Irish. Nah, I know I do.”

“I like you too ya eejit.” You punch his shoulder.

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to raise to his hairline. “Really? Ya don’t have to jus’ say that.”

Instead of responding with words that you know would fall short in reassuring him, you pulled him into a hug.

“Leannán.” You whisper into his chest.

“What does tha’ one mean?”

“Darling.” You answer while smiling up at him.

He tucks your hair behind your ear and gently kisses your lips.

“I like tha’ one.”

[mikotv]

Irish!M/n because I’m Irish and it’s St Patrick’s day and I think I’m the funniest person on earth

“Bow down to me, all of you.” Was the first thing M/n said when they came in through the door. They earned a look from their fellow teammates, Ghost, Soap and Gaz, and Price was who knows where. M/n sat down on one of the common room couch.

“Who died and made you the ruler of England?” Ghost looked M/n up and down as they sat down, but only earned a look from M/n. “How dare you, you coloniser.”

Ghost was about to look away, but then he looked at them like they just called him every slur known to man. Gaz and Soap stifled a laugh, “Excuse me?!” Ghost sat up straight on the couch, like he was sizing up to m/n. “You’re excused..unlike how your lot excused my people.” Their thick, heavy Irish accent ringing through the air

“Your people?! Who do you think-” Ghost was about to raise his voice at them, but paused when he noticed the small Irish flag on their shirt. He looked over at Soap and Gaz, then back to M/n.

“Mate- It’s St Patty’s day.” Soap mumbled in between small fits of laughter. Soon M/n turned to him, “Paddy’s day, you fiend!” They exclaimed with a fake offended tone. M/n turned back to Ghost, trying to sooth the headache m/n was already causing him, “Gods I forgot you were a leprechaun..” He whispered under his breath, only to get returned with a pillow being thrown at him as if the pillow was some sort of grenade.

[angels444yuri]

i love the irish i hope they don't ever stop making alcohol

[mervynbunter]

LIES WE TELL (2023), dir. Lisa Mulcahy

What makes a monster, you may well wonder. My father taught me that only after our death will we know what we are, what we have chosen to be, angel or demon, creature of light or monster clothed in human flesh. He said I could choose, that I had a choice. He told me it's an easy journey between this life and the next. He told me he loved me. He told me many lies.

[scorpionatori]

“we need more female characters who are unhinged and unsettling and weird and morally grey and-” please watch/read durarara

[boxforblackpaul]

Courtney Love lights a cigarette for Sinéad O’Connor (2003)

[yourdailyqueer]

Nell McCafferty

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

DOB: 28 March 1944  

Ethnicity: White - Northern Irish

Occupation: Journalist, activist, playwright, writer

[athleticperfection1]

Notre Dame Soccer

[huariqueje]

The great window , Venice   -   James MacKeown 

Irish, b. 1961 -

Oil on canvas,  116 x 81 cm.