#celtic pride

[monstermaster13]

[courtneysartacc]

My new box I painted and decorated by hand, representing my Celtic pagan faith and heritage 💛🐉

(FYI: the tag Celtic pride is not a white supremacy thing. I am not using it in that context as I am firmly anti-fascist. I believe that everyone deserves to have pride in and connection to their culture and heritage, and this is a reflection of that. <3)

[lowcountrymountaineer]

Dom a Lloyd : Cymru Heddiw

Hiiii!! Please share this. This is a cool video regarding Black Welsh speakers and some of the progress and some of the obstacles that have been happening in the country of Wales in regarding to Black Welsh people. Everyone can be a part of revitalizing a language and in regards to revitalizing indigenous languages (like Welsh) anti-Blackness should have no place in the process. This is something I think no one really talks about and I LOVE this YouTube channel it needs more subscribers for sure!!

[gr00vyashley]

I finished Celtic Pride like an hour ago and I’m still not over them putting Dan Aykroyd in a tube top, hot pants, and high heels for a like five second joke where Daniel Stern slaps his ass

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

this might sound insane… but I need a Jimmy Flaherty (Celtic Pride, 1996) x oc/reader fic. You have every right to get silly with it

So... I got this over a year ago, and I finally got something written! Idk how silly I got with it, but I do love Jimmy, and I think he needed some pampering. So, here you go, anon!

Also here on Ao3

NSFW under the cut

🍀 Good Luck Charm 🍀

When you got back to your shared apartment with your boyfriend, Jimmy Flaherty, you could tell from the silence within that things hadn't gone well. You also knew because you'd tuned into the last few minutes of the game on your way home and knew the Celtics had lost. Jimmy would be crushed.

Once you dropped off your things in the kitchen, you found Jimmy in the living room, sitting on the couch, a half-drunk beer bottle in his hand. He was staring at the floor, a vacant expression on his face.

“Jimmy?” you prompted quietly as you approached him. “I'm so sorry.”

He looked up as you sat next to him, offering you something of a smile. It was sad, though.

“Thanks, sweetie. Could've used you there.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side. “My good luck charm.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

He shrugged, still smiling sadly. “It's okay. There's always next time.”

You gently rubbed his chest, watching him stare at the floor. “What did Mike say about it?” you asked after a moment.

Now, Jimmy frowned. “He said it was my fault.”

“Your fault?”

He glanced at you and hugged you a little closer. “Because I didn't bring you with me. So, I told him he was being stupid. We…got into an argument.” Jimmy now looked at you directly. “I love the game, sure, but I love you more. And unlike me, you got a life. As much as I love having you there, I don't expect you to be at every game.”

You studied him for a moment, idly rubbing the back of his neck. “Is there anything I can do to help now? Maybe…change your luck, turn it around?” you offered, a hint of suggestion in your voice.

It was lost on Jimmy, though, who continued to stare ahead glumly. “How?”

You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, which got his attention. “Maybe I can help make this evening not such a loss…”

Jimmy looked thoughtful for a moment, seriously considering your words. “Yeah, maybe you could…”

“Maybe I could help prove that you're a much luckier man than Mike will ever be.”

Now, Jimmy looked at you and smiled sweetly. “Oh, I already know I am. I have you.”

You returned the smile and softly kissed him. You loved him so much. Jimmy returned the kiss, and from the way he was kissing you, you could tell he still wasn't quite picking up what you were getting at. 

“So… You don't want me to prove it?” you purred, pressing closer to him and sliding your hand down from his neck to his chest and then his tummy.

His breath hitched, and it finally seemed to dawn on him. “Oh, ah… Well, I'm certainly not going to say no…”

“Then lie back, baby,” you purred, gently pushing on his chest to guide him back on the couch. “And I'll show you just how lucky you can get tonight.”

You felt a shiver go through him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pushed up his shirt and tugged it off over his head before undoing his pants. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

Jimmy ran his hands over your arms and back, watching you with hooded eyes. “You always do.”

With a grin, you pulled down his pants and underwear, freeing his hardening cock. He gasped quietly, his hands clutching the couch cushion underneath him. Slowly, teasingly, you kissed the tip of his cock before wrapping your hand around him, giving him slow but purposeful strokes, making his breath quicken even more, and his hips shifted impatiently for more stimulation.

“Oh God…” he breathed.

“Good, baby?” you murmured, kissing up the length of his cock.

Jimmy nodded frantically. “Yeah. Oh, yeah… Keep going.”

And you did. Enthusiastically. You licked his tip, teasing him, before taking him into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the head as you drew back. You kept a steady rhythm with your hand at the base of his cock. Above you, Jimmy was moaning and writhing, alternating between throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut, to watching you, not wanting to miss the sight of you blowing him.

“Sweetheart,” he managed to say in a strangled voice, his fingers lightly tangling in your hair. “Fuck, that feels amazing…”

You lifted your head off him and smiled. “Good. That's my intention. I want you to feel so good, Jimmy.”

A guttural groan left him when you took him into your mouth again, picking up where you left off, but with more enthusiasm this time. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm not gonna last,” he panted. “Feels too good… Oh!”

“That's okay,” you purred, pulling off of him only long enough to speak. “Let go, baby.”

You looked up at him, seeing him grit his teeth in an effort to try to last longer, but then you redoubled your efforts, and his mouth fell open with a gasp.

“Oh, fuck! I'm cumming!”

You kept your lips around him, letting him spill into your mouth and swallowing every drop of him. The usually pretty quiet Jimmy was not so quiet now, and it thrilled you to know you could make him feel so good, good enough to make him throw his head back and cry out a mixture of ‘yes!’ and your name. 

When he was spent, you let him slip from your mouth, smiling at the blissed out look on his face. 

“I love you, Jimmy,” you murmured, easing his underwear and pants back up.

Jimmy panted and laughed breathlessly. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

You propped your head on your hand and grinned up at him, your free hand gently rubbing his hip. “How was that for a little good luck?”

His smile was a little dopey as he looked at you, completely boneless, spent, and satisfied. “Perfect. I'm definitely the lucky one. Who needs to win games when I've got my beautiful girlfriend to come home to?”

As he said this, he reached down to pull you up on top of him.

“I'm surprised to hear you say that,” you said, settling against his chest. “I didn't think there was anything more important than the Celtics, except for the Celtics winning.”

He shook his head and cupped your cheek. “Maybe before I met you, and while I'm still very much invested in the other, you are far more important to me.” He kissed your forehead. “You mean everything to me, honey.”

You smiled and nuzzled his chest. “And you mean everything to me, Jimmy.” You kissed over his heart before lifting your head. “And I'll always happily be your good luck charm, for basketball or anything else in life.”

Jimmy grinned. “And I got the best good luck charm in the world.”

[principiumindividuationis777]

[arctic-hands]

Related to my tags on the Irish American reblog, how long have bastardized "Celtic" crosses been neo-Nazi symbols? I wasn't aware of this stupid use until I was an adult and my father was equally unaware until I learned about it, and in our Celtic (American) Pride we often used Celtic cross imagery in decor and accessories. Granted these usually did resemble actually woven/knotted crosses (which by no means meant they were authentic. At best a few came from local Celtic Pride fests–which as I said in those tags was plagued by Confederate and Nazi imagery), but most of them came from like JoAnn's or Michael's or Walmart whenever Saint Paddy's Day rolled around. That said, the woven pattern of a Celtic cross is a bitch to draw especially when you have yet to nurture or be nurtured in any art skills, so when my borderline-Gothic ass would doodle graveyards in my school notebooks I would often doodle simplified Celtic crosses as grave markers, which unfortunately just meant a simple cross with a simple circle in it, unfortunately reminiscent of the neo-Nazi symbol.

Me and my family were staunchly Indiana liberals (to be fair that wasn't that shocking in our democrat enclave city) and have only become more leftist as time goes on, so those who knew me well would know I didn't mean anything by it, but like I have to wonder/worry that those who didn't know me well (like most of my classmates. I was pretty lonely in high school) or people who would briefly visit my home or come across us while we were wearing Celtic pins that day or something came away with the wrong impression. I'm especially dismayed at the thought that the kids I knew to be actual neo-Nazis might thought I was one of them

For the record I left school in like twenty eleven and had been doodling graveyards for years and wearing Celtic imagery for even longer. I can't really find out when the "Celtic" cross became a dogwhistle

[baronafanas002]