#irescot

[cdesu]

To the anon who asked if I was done with Irescot a week after me not posting them art, guess what, probably not, but since ur such a dickhead I’ll be reserving posting art of them tgt here until I feel ok 🙂‍↕️ next time stop being anon

[a-luran]

how do you feel,,,, abt aob scoteng,,,,

I have many thoughts in fact 👀 about omegaverse scoteng. There are a few rough ideas half-finished in my drafts, but one of my favourites might be this one:

Arthur is a beta. Ordinary, common, unremarkable. He weaves himself in and out of the complicated affairs of others for centuries, catching glimpses of possession in the mating bites that litter the skin of nations, in the muted musk he can taste in the air, feeling only a fraction of the intoxication that others might. Or at least, he imagines they must when he wakes up in a pile of feathers and rumpled bedding, the bed half-caved in beneath the shared weight of his lovers.

(It is no easy thing, keeping pace with an Alpha's rut or an Omega's heat but leave it to him to try and hold his own. Something about the pain, the heat, the strain on his muscles. Feeling like he'll come undone locked on the stretch of a knot, clawing at the sheets and biting back his moans, begging wordlessly for something.

He doesn't let his eyes linger then. Takes a too-hot shower to feel the sting of the scratch marks running down his back and does not let himself want even as he digs his own nails into the crook where his shoulder meets his neck in a poor imitation of what it might feel like to be owned like that.)

And so it goes, decades to a century. He takes one job, then another, phasing from one human life to the next, the only constant the nations around him and as of a few lifetimes ago— a home. Filled to the brim with other people's things that are as much his as they are theirs. Crowded and loud and sturdy, and if Arthur has never known what it is like to be bonded sharing a home is his first real taste of what it feels like to belong to other people by measures. Alasdair, Dylan, and Connor; Sean when he can be arsed to be around (which is... often. Or not so rare as he would have people on the outside of their queer arrangement believe). They share a table and a roof and sleep on linens hung from the same line to dry. Fight over inconsequential things and stand together when it matters.

A home.

Arthur is not sure that he's ever slept quite so well in all his very long life, or that he's eaten so regularly as he does now. He gains weight and his edges soften. Keeps his sharpness in other ways but finds himself settling in comfortably into what is almost a routine, as much as lives like theirs could ever be.

One evening he goes to bed feeling like his head is full of cotton and wakes up sweating.

It's the flu, he reasons and stumbles downstairs dressed for work with the first three buttons of his shirt left undone. Never mind that they don't get sick. Or not often, not like this.

Alasdair is in the kitchen fixing himself something (tea? smells too strongly for tea, Arthur thinks faintly and turns his back on him before his stomach can object.)

"You're looking peaky," Sean calls, loud and caustic from where he's sat at the table and Arthur can't even focus on him long enough to grouse something back. Alasdair says something in his stead (or does he?) and Arthur really should be getting to work only that it's somewhat hard to keep track of what's going on around him. The lights are too bright and the kitchen too hot, never mind that it's late November, and Alasdair is—

"Arthur,"—saying his name like he's been trying to catch his attention and standing suddenly close, hand hovering near Arthur's hip like he's about to reach out to steady him.

"What?" Arthur asks impatiently and takes a half step away to rest both hands on the kitchen table and steady himself. Even just that makes him ache somewhere in his core and he squeezes his eyes shut, lowering his chin almost to his chest when his heart jumps unsteady in his chest. He feels like he has in the tipping point before a high becomes a comedown, pulse racketing and mind clouded, oversensitive, and overly aware of every breath he takes. Only he is sober now and overdressed and what in the blazes is that bloody smell.

"You're hot," Alasdair says, close again and holding onto him this time, one hand on Arthur's hip the other pulling his head back almost gently, pressed against his forehead like he's feeling his temperature. His nose is pressed behind Arthur's ear like he's scenting him, deep and easy and he shifts his hold, moving the hand on Arthur's hip to his front, bracing him up. It makes Arthur's mind blank out for a moment, the feeling of it hot and broad against his stomach all whilst Alasdair presses his lips to his nape. When Sean's chair scrapes against the tile and sounds to him like it's coming from far away and not across the table.

Arthur tells himself that he’s about to tell him off when Alasdair fists the front of his shirt and pulls it down, enough to uncover more of his shoulder and lick up the side of his neck.

“You’re in heat,” he says roughly, voice tight with restrained arousal but clearly shocked.

"Fuck off," Arthur snaps immediately back between unsteady pants. "Fuck off. No, I'm bloody not."

"Arthur," and it's Sean speaking this time, Alasdair's lips are back against his neck.

And oh.

Oh, fuck.

[star-glitch-family]

:)

1. USA and Russia

2. Canada and Mexico

3. Ukraine and Venezuela

4. Canada and Mexico (x2 lol)

5. Jamaica and Cuba

6. Ireland and Scotland

7. Japan, South Korea, North Korea and China

8. Ecuador and Palestine

9. Argentina and Chile

10. Brazil and Uruguay

[ribena59p]

This is a collab!! I didn't draw Ireland :o

Tho I wish I did it looks really good

I don't think of them as brothers or even related at all B)

[windy-trickster]

owo

Is Ireland ok? XD why did he agree to this?

He only did this because he loves me. Ain't that right, bug? - Fraser

[thatidiots-art]

Back then new twt header :D

used to be my twt header ^^

please note that i dont want my art to have anything to do w politics and irl problems :)

[windy-trickster]

Hm

People someone send me IreScot/ScotIre content I love them so much and I cam barely find fanart of it and I suck at drawing couples’ art. LOUD GROSS SOBBING

[universal-casey]

What are your favorite ships?

RusAme, SovAme (disclaimer: not from the Sovime AU. Those two hate each other), MexAme

As you can tell, I like having America kiss people lmao

Honorable mentions include FrUK and IreScot

[sandknztrip]

Unfinished biz

I added the missing pictures to the IreScot IreTour 9/8 album.  I’m also adding here the video of Henry’s Cliffs, which were truly beautiful

[irescot]

Edinburgh - Friday

NOTE: I strongly dislike Shutterfly because it has changed not for the better, but that's where my pictures are. Since there is no real information in their help, I've decided to give each of you my login information into Shutterfly so you can take a look at the pictures. I think the blogs make more sense with the pictures and vice versa.  So here are the instructions: + go to shutterfly.com + on the top line, click on Sign In + use jolowiczk@earthlink.net as the username and fan4fan3 as the password + that should take you to the My Shutterfly page; click on Albums under My Photos + Click on Ireland and Scotland on the left hand side (or anything else you want, got no secrets) + click on the album name to view the photos (thumbnails); to view full size, double click on first photo and then use the right key to go through them.  Shutterfly puts them in whatever order they want within date taken, so who knows. + When finished, PLEASE LOG OUT, I don't know how many people at a time Shutterfly allows access to with the same logon, so if you log out, it may allow someone else to get in.  That other person could be me trying to upload additional pictures.  

For most entries the name of the blog post corresponds to the album, but there are a couple of exceptions.  The IreScot 815 to 819 contains all the photos taken while driving from Dublin to Waterford to Galway to Killarney and back to Dublin.

END OF NOTE

Carol and a friend made plans to scatter a portion of the ashes of the friend's husband at the St. Andrews golf course, since it was his favorite course. Today was the day we decided to do that.

We slept a little late today and had a cab pick us up at around 10:45 to take us to the Waverley Station to take a train at 11:35 to Leuchars, the train stop that is about a 15 minute cab ride to St. Andrews (the town and the links).  You can also transfer to a bus at the train station that takes you very close to St. Andrews Golf Course. We had any time return tickets, and this time 1st class tickets.

When we got to the station we used one of the ticket machines to print out the tickets Carol had purchased online.  A great number of tickets printed out; we had so many that we weren't sure which was for what, so Carol went to the information desk (and I tagged along) and got the guy to tell us what each set of tickets was for.  We discovered we had assigned tickets going to Leuchars, but nothing on the way back since we hadn't gotten tickets for the return trip. We also had tickets for the bus (going and return) plus a Summary ticket of the purchase.  The guy was ready to rip that one up, but I stopped him because we had used that last time when one of us lost our ticket (which you need to get out) and we used it as proof that we had had a ticket (which they accepted).  The guy also told us that the first class tickets are either on the first car or on the last one.  

When we went to the main platforms we were still half an hour early, so there was no posting of the platform, but it appeared as though our train might be delayed.  The train was going to Aberdeen, with Leuchars one of its stops.  Finally, with just 5 minutes to go, they posted track 16, which is what our information guy had told us it would probably be.  So a bunch of us trooped out to the train and after everyone departed, we got on and found our seats and settled in.  5-10 minutes later, an official looking person came around and told everyone to get off the train, that we were going to be departing now fom track 14. We got out and went to track 14, and started to get on the train, when the conductor(?) was getting off and he said, you should be on track 16...I replied that we had just been told to come to 14 from 16. Then he asked what train we wanted and I said Aberdeen, to which he replied, yes this is the train to Aberdeen.  Jeez!

We settled in again into facing seats, and a voice came on and told us that the other train had an engine failure, and pardon the delay, etc., etc. Later when an announcement was made of the stops, I had to listen very carefully to hear our stop, Leuchars, because it's not pronounce the way it looks, but I can't reproduce the "ch" sound which is made in the throat.

Shortly afterwards, a steward came by with a little basket with various edibles including the thing the three of us love to eat, shortbread biscuits (read cookies).  He asked if we wanted something to drink, coffee, tea, orange juice, water.  We all three requested water.  The steward and having plugs seems to be the big difference between first class and standard class. And depending on the train, facing seats.

Once we were on the way, the three of us were busy reading or using the train's Wi-Fi.  The view out of the windows seemed to be mostly tall hedges that obscured views beyond the train, so we didn't other looking up.  At some point, we noticed that we were looking out at a very large body of water and we weren't sure what it was. Looking at the route of the train, it went across the Forth Bridge and then followed the coast for a while before going back inland for a straight run at St. Andrews, which is further up the coast.  So what we were seeing was the ocean past the estuary of the river Forth.

A little later we saw ships out on the ocean, they might have been fishing boats but I don't know what they look like.  I just liked the picture they made, a splash of color in a picture otherwise made of greys.

I also liked some of the houses I saw but once again, I could only take pictures on my side of the train.

We were supposed to get to Leuchars at 12:27 but in fact got there at 12:55. Also I'm pretty sure we skipped one station.  Leuchars was supposed to be the third stop, but it was the second stop.  Also they made an announcement that they would skip two other stations. Passengers going to those stations were advised to go on to Dundee and take trains back to those stations.  What a pain for those people!

Took a picture outside the station when we arrived because I was curious about those long bumps in the field. Wasn't sure if it was a way to cut and stack the hay preparatory to baling, but I'm hardly familiar with the words I just used, much less have any idea what I'm talking about.  But that's never stopped me from making things up.

We had to take a bridge that went from the station to the other side of fence that separated the street from the tracks and platforms. On the other side, we could see a taxi rank. Because of the delays, we had missed the bus we had planned to get on, so we decided to take a cab.  I thought (don't know why) that St. Andrews had 3 courses, but our driver told me that there are 7 and that in addition there were another 6 near by, and that in fact there was another being planned.  All of those courses are public.

Carol had made reservations for us to take a tour of St. Andrews so she could get on the course and do her thing with the ashes, but as she read more on the subject, it turns that it was not at all rare to have people want to have their ashes scattered there. Carol spent some time in the shop looking at things she could buy for some of her brothers who are avid golfers, and then decided to think about what she wanted and then buy online so she wouldn't have to arrange for shipping.

Meanwhile our tour was going to start in 15 minutes or so, so we wandered outside. I took pictures of the Old Course Hotel, that runs the length of the Old Course, and a of part of the town of St. Andrews.  Went into the shop where there was a separate room that housed picture of the courses and of the town for sale, and saw a beautiful pen drawing of St Andrews - the city and the links.

There were some beautiful flowers in planters outside the clubhouse, and then I realized I had not taken a picture of the clubhouse itself.  And then more flowers along the side of the clubhouse.

Meanwhile, Carol had realized that there was no need to go on the tour, she could just walk out on the course, there was nobody to stop her.  So she waited until the foursome finished the 17 hole and had put the flag back in the hole, and checked that those on the 16th were not ready to tee off, and went down to the hole and disposed of the ashes of her friend.  

Since we didn't need to go on the tour (neither of us are golfers), we decided to have lunch at the restaurant there.  It was, like all meals we have had this trip, very good.  While we were eating, we heard a loud thunk, and an older woman had fallen down hard, right out of her shoes.  Several people rushed up to help and one of the staff brought a chair over so she could sit down after they managed to get her up again.  She rested for a while, and when she got up, she seemed to be more embarrassed than hurt, so all's well that ends well.

Paid the bill and went to reception, and I noticed a big mural with my boy Jack (Nicholson) who I had a big crush on back in the day. Took a picture and then we ask the reception to get us a taxi, which arrived within minutes, and we were on our way back to the station.

There was supposed to be a train to Edinburgh at 3:30 and we heard an announcement that seem to indicate it would be late, but the 3:30 was announced on time and off we went. This time when we went into 1st Class, all seats but two were taken (since we had a return anytime, there were no reserved seats for us) so Carol chose to stand. Very shortly after, a gentleman offered his seat to Carol who was standing on the platform outside 1st class, which she accepted.  His friend also left to keep him company on the platform, so the net effect was there was an extra seat.  

Before we left the station, took another picture of the same fields as before, but this time at a different angle.

Once again there was not much to see on the way back, so we mostly read. At the Forth Bridge there were no hedges to block the view and it looked lovely, but no pictures because on the wrong side of the train. And the rest of our journey to Edinburgh was uneventful.

Back in Edinburgh we decided to walk to the bus, but first we had to make sure we all had exact change.  Sharon didn't have any change, and I had forgotten the little bag of change I carry with me, so it was all up to Carol to come up with the exact change for 3 people.  She rummaged in her capacious purse, and kept coming up with change (including American money) and pretty soon we had 1 pound 60p for each of us.  Then we went outside and on the lookout for a bus stop for one of our buses. On the way the queue at the taxi rank was ridiculous; it would have taken longer than our bus ride to finally get in a cab, so we were happy we had made that decision.

Took a couple of pictures of the Giant Wheel, and of the building above The Mound, that was built in 1846, and of the buildings to the right of it. Also of the flowers on The Mound, and in the other direction, the Sir Walter Scott Monument.  

I thought I knew where there was a stop that would be the right one for one of the 4 buses we could take, but when we go there, it turned out I was wrong.  Then Carol was able to look up nearby bus stops, and we find one for our good friend, the 23 bus, at a stop not far away, but it was all uphill.  The bus eventually got there, and Sharon and I got on.  Carol was behind a young guy who was behind us.  But the driver told the young guy to get off because he couldn't take any more.  So we ended looking at Carol on the other side of the closed door and trying to tell the driver that she was with us, but of course that didn't matter to the driver.

For the first time, we didn't have to ask the driver to tell us when we got to our stop, which he would have been unhappy with, considering how crowded the bus was.  But we could finally tell where we were when we got close to our stop.  

Walking to the apartment from the bus stop, we wondered whether Carol had waited for the next bus or had decided to take a cab.  If she took a cab, we expected to see her waiting at the apartment because the cab woule have been  faster than the bus; if not, we would not see her for 10 or 15 minutes.  When we got to the apartment, she was sitting outside, waiting for us (they only gave us one key and I'm the official holder). It turns out she took the next bus, but it passed ours at some point, and that's how she got there before us.  

And that's how Friday went.

[cdesu]

※ Attention: 🇮🇪🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

405

[a-luran]

Now that Ireland is canon, I'd like to submit some potential pairings to the council for review: Denmark, Scotland, Spain, Belgium, S.Italy, Normandy, Sweden, and Prussia (I just think the last one would be funny, smartass4smartass / Dumbasses to Lovers) I also think a ScotEng OR ScotFra, 'This is my boyfriend Alisdair, and this is Alisdair's boyfriend Sean.' would be comedy gold.

ksksk I am honoured to have made it onto the council. My thoughts are as follows:

DenIre

The scent of sea brine and brisk, cutting winds on early sails. The grey shores of winter giving way to the deep greens of spring. A tentative alliance built on a love for starlight and music. Easy laughter and stories shared over the sound of waves cashing onto shore. Love that is woven in silver, carried in myth. That endures in song.

ScotIre

It is the burnished scent of firewood breathed into fine wool and the amber warmth of morning. A shared reverence for nature and a rare kind of steadfast resilience in the face of adversity. It is coarse affection that goes uncontested; ordinary and practical. A common language that grows apart but will forever share the same roots and traditions, and the weight of poetry on their tongues.

SpIre

It begins with a smile. A kiss tinged with zaffron warmth and cold fingers slipping under loose linen. Hearts beating fast and matched to the beat of music as they dance, sure-footed and bold. Joy comes to them both as easily as breathing and it is dazzling to see them burn so brightly with it.

PrussIre

moronsexual smartarse4smartase rights

Knee-deep in mud and chilled to the bone; torn from every comfort to fight in foreign wars, called to duty and pledged to value the weight of gold over life. It is a comfort, feeling warmth after so long. Reaching out in the dark to feel a heartbeat, steady and growing familiar over the long nights spent on foreign shores.

-

I have a few scoteng + Ire fics in the works! No scotfra + Ire wips as of yet but Alasdair has two hands, and strong arms. And broad shoulders. And—

Therefore, I posit:

This Alasdair fiancé, Arthur. And this is Alasdair's husband and Arthur's ex-husband, Francis. And then this is Alasdair's boyfriend, Arthur's competition for this year's Garden of the Year award, and Francis' happened-once-in-a-dream, Seán.

[star-glitch-family]

IreScot :>

[windy-trickster]

IreScot? *eyeball emoji*

What you guys think of France? 👀

Allow me to translate: Arthur very much loves Francis, even if he won't admit it. - Dylan SHUT UP! - Arthur

[devouredreaper]

Ireland/Scotland Fan Soundtrack or something

I:"My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light 'Em Up)" - Fall Out Boy

II:"All Over You" - Live

III:"Thnks fr the Mmrs" - Fall Out Boy

IV:"Coming Down" - Five Finger Death Punch

V:"I Miss the Misery" - Halestorm

VI: "My Happy Ending" - Avril Lavigne

VII: "End of Me" - Apocalyptica feat. Gavin Rossdale

VIII: "Dirty Little Secret" - All-American Rejects

IX: "Vertigo" - U2

X: "I Hate Everything About You" - Three Days Grace

XI:"Firefly" - Breaking Benjamin

XII:"Clarity" - Zedd