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alchemistc · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday

tagged by @liminalmemories21, who Doesn't Go Here but whom I am going to try to tempt further into the fold by choosing a hockey heavy snippet just for funsies. Just to see. Also I couldn't decide where to clip this so... enjoy like a whole game.

Tommy shifts his weight and settles the nerves, accepts the smack to the back of his helmet, and watches Binnington throw a fit between the pipes when the stripes don’t call the puck trickling in behind his net an icing.

They’re five minutes in and everyone’s getting testy. He can feel it.

This is where Tommy does his best work. It’d been a task, ten years ago, a part of the job he’d accepted because he was good in a fight and fully capable of taking a few punches. Under the thumb of the old boys club it’d just been expected of him — the ability to throw his weight around was what had kept him from complete obscurity in a lower league that would have worn him down much sooner. Tommy’s fists and his ability to twist his shoulder just in time to knock a guy flat on his ass were the only things that mattered when his agent settled him down with two offers and he’d chosen the team most likely to make his dad proud.

Never mind that his dad had come to three games when Tommy was a bright eyed-rookie, seen Tommy get his ass handed to him by a man twice his size, and stopped bothering to show up.

He’d turned that around, in recent years. Longer stints with the affiliate teams, less time under the microscopic eye of the national press (even as a role player he’d had his moments under that eye) — he’d learned when to pull his punches, when to turn the other cheek, and when to lock his ankles and aim for the fucking chest. He had friends up and down the continent who knew him as the guy who’d take them all out to dinner after a bad loss, find something stupid and entertaining for them to do after, and then go into the next game with a chip on his fucking shoulder.

There were three kids with insane star power in the league who had him on speed dial even though he hadn’t played with them for a year or more, because for some fucking reason he had the ability to talk them off a ledge when the pressure drove them towards it.

He’d never tell a soul that Crosby still sent him gym selfies so they could compare the relative size and plumpness of their ass during the offseason.

There was still a reverence for real enforcers, in the league, even if they’d fallen by the wayside as teams got smaller and quicker. They were more a deterrent than anything else these days, but that usually meant Tommy got to lumber around on the ice for a few minutes a game, remembering what it had felt like the first time he’d laced his skates and stepped out to a roaring crowd, before he took another dumb penalty and spent the next forty-five minutes riding the bench. He’d been instructed not to take any dumb penalties, tonight, because St. Louis didn’t tend to get sloppy until the game was on the line.

Thirty-six minutes in, Schenn takes a chop at Diaz’s knee under the guise of a poke check and the home crowd gets loud, and ornery.

Nash smacks him on the shoulder on their way back down the tunnel for the third, eyes a little wild, and Tommy immediately recalls the old highlight reels of Nash shaking hair out of his eyes while he squared off against a guy twice his size, motor-mouthing his way into getting the other guy to take the first swing. Minnesotans and their right hooks weren’t something to fuck around with. Too much time in the cold not to have a little crazy in them.

Tommy rolls his tongue over his teeth, tilts his head to where Diaz and Buckley are bent over the boards together on the bench, already prepared to hop out the moment Bannister tries to get a match-up that’ll tilt in the Blues favor.

Nash sends him out with the rest of the fourth line, and Tommy doesn’t waste any time.

It’s immediately clear that they’ve all been warned to keep level heads. Schenn won’t engage, Buchnevich barely acknowledges Tommy when he hip checks him into his own bench — he goes ass over tea kettle and Tommy gets nothing more than a few shifty looks and some smack talk from the guys sitting.

There’s an easy way around that, though.

Tommy clambers back over the boards and waits out his next shift, practically vibrating with it when a shot pings off the crossbar and Greenway skates right through Binnington’s crease chasing after it.

Kyrou tries to take out Buckley against the boards, looks livid when Buck skates just free of it, and Buck does some ankle breaking in a rush to the goal. It hits the post, and when the whistle gets blown fifteen seconds later Tommy watches level heads not prevail when Binner says something snippy to Kyrou that has him rolling his eyes on the way back to the bench.

It takes another minute and a half for Nash to set up the line matches the way he wants them, but as Greenway skates off for relief and Schenn’s line stays stuck in their own zone spinning their wheels, Bobby smacks a thick hand down on Tommy’s shoulder. “Kinard, you’re up!”

Tommy takes an awkward pass once he’s past the blue line and goes full tilt towards the net. Full tilt for Tommy isn’t anything special, but it’s not what the Blues are expecting, and most of them have been out for two plus minutes at this point, hemmed in by their third and fourth lines just shoveling the puck back in every time it nears the blue line.

The snow shower he aims at the goal, half an inch into the crease when he fully stops, isn’t anything to write home about, but it has it’s intended effect. Already short on patience, Binnington watches Schenn intercept and send the puck careening down the ice — a third icing in a row — and lashes out with the butt end of his stick, a glancing blow Tommy laughs at as the rest of the players start to circle up at the whistle. Tommy’s laugh pisses him off. The laugh pisses him off so much.

It’s so fucking easy to rattle him with he’s already two goals down. There’s some shoving, a few hockey hugs to keep things from escalating, but Panikkar has apparently cottoned on to Tommy’s plan, and he says something under his breath that has Sundquist in his face, and Binnington skating around behind the net in irritation while the zebras break up a few of the more reticent shoving matches.

Tommy wins about one face-off out of every fifty, but that’s not the reason he’s bending across from Schenn now at the circle.

“We could end this before he loses all his cool and breaks his stick on the pipes,” Tommy goads, and the linesman with the puck rolls his eyes towards Schenn. The other man shifts, readjusts the grip on his stick. “Or I could just keep taunting him for something that isn’t even his fault, this time.”

Schenn’s not a particularly bad dude, just a little gun shy about fighting when his coach has clearly told them all not to engage.

Tommy wants him to fucking engage.

Schenn waits for the puck to drop, and miraculously, it’s Tommy who scoops it up to a fresh-faced Buckley just in time for the man to wind up and sneak it through about four bodies on it’s way over Binnington’s shoulder.

It takes Tommy a few breathless seconds to remember to skate in and hug the rest of his team, and another five to realize that technically the assist is his. He stopped caring about stats so much the second year in a row that his time in the box exceeded his time on ice for more than five games out of the season, but it sits there, in the back of his mind, his name next to Buckley’s on the score sheet.

And then Schenn gets sloppy again, a check into the boards that has Panikkar limping back towards the bench while the crowd boos the refs, and Tommy doesn’t give Schenn any time to think about it when Nash sends him out in the immediate chaos.

He catches Kyrou mid-ice with his head down, a shoulder right to the chest that sends him reeling back, skates leaving the ground as he crashes backwards, and Schenn is on him in the next five seconds, gloves off and a resigned look in his eyes. Tommy grins and shifts his weight back, tossing his own gloves and reaching for the neck of Schenn’s sweater.

i know it's late so consider this a no pressure tag for Thursday Tidbits: @beefcakekinard @rcmclachlan @kirkaut @xofemeraldstars @princessfbi

#bucktommy hockey au #the blues are just the first victim of this au #because fuck binnington who somehow placed last in the amateur waterbottle shot-put despite being the only participant #(the blues are actually my first victim bc i just rewatched the cup run of '22 on espn)#this fic is getting out of hand i've barely even had them interact yet #wip snippet

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dazedasian · 4 days

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https://www.instagram.com/reel/DAHNGvlSjo9/?igsh=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

STOP THE SEPT 24 EXECUTION OF MARCELLUS WILLIAMS

DESCRIPTION:

Marcellus Williams is scheduled to be executed on Sept. 24 for a crime he did not commit. The St. Louis County Prosecuting Attorney Wesley Bell conceded that the prior administration committed constitutional errors contributing to Marcellus’ unreliable murder conviction and death sentence. Despite this, St. Louis County Circuit Court Judge Bruce Hilton denied the motion to vacate his conviction, and his execution will go forward unless Gov. Parson or the courts intervene.

HASHTAGS:

#SaveMarcellus

#MarcellusWilliams

Call, Tweet, and Email Gov. Parson now at 417-373-3400: https://shorturl.at/K7jDT

Add this link to your Instagram bio.

Share this link on your social media platforms!!

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redfurrycat · 1 year

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🤠🏉🥇🥊🐓Sports Fic Recs🐓🥊🥇🏉🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Abliafina, Barnes_Brain, Discosleaze, Ginnydear, Greenstuff, Halestrom, Hangmanbradshaw, Hypnagogicpunisher, idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo, Infinitejaust, KatofKanals, Marchrain, Midnight___phoenix, Ok_thanks, Playingwiththeboysisagayanthem, Vahosi, SunMonTue, Teacupivy, Trinipedia.

Different Strokes by infinitejaust {E}

{Olympic swimming}

Jake looks over at Bradshaw, who’s got his arms crossed, biceps flexed. Outside the box, huh? Jake smiles. He has a wonderful awful idea.

and they were rivals (oh my god they were rivals) by ginnydear

{NFL}

unsportsmanlike conduct {M}

He didn’t expect there to be highlight reels of him and Jake Seresin arguing and jawing at each other after their first game against each other. His Uncle Mav’s recorded it, saying it’s the beginning of his long, successful career - to have a rival. Bradley thinks it’s a pain in the ass. or - the hangster nfl au

jersey swap {M}

“I think you’re right, and I’d dare to say that’s Bradley Bradshaw next to her. He and Robert Floyd have been friends since college, if you remember that from their draft.” The camera stays on the group for a second longer and then it switches to where Floyd is standing on the sideline, a large blue coat covering his body. He’s talking to Jake Seresin and the camera catches the moment they both look up towards the stands, Floyd waving excitedly. The screen splits in time to see Natasha waving back, as well as everyone around her. or - a hangster nfl au slice of life

skills test {E}

“I don’t have all day, Bradshaw,” Jake yells, dribbling the ball a few times. Bradley pauses and bends his knees, bouncing the ball between his hands. “Such impatience,” Bradley says, starting to move the other direction. Jake takes the ball in one hand and cocks his arm back, watching with glee as Bradley’s eyes widen a bit. “Take the shot then!” or - jake and bradley are selected to the pro bowl.

play-action fake {T}

“Come home with me.” Jake breathed against Bradley’s lips. His shallow breaths break up his words, but he gets them out all the same. Bradley chuckled and brushed his thumb across Jake’s bottom lip. “I’m always gonna come home with you.” He muttered, pulling his thumb down and leaving Jake's mouth agape. or: Jake asks Bradley to come home to Texas with him

top gun hockey au by ok_thanks

{Hockey}

invisible string {M}

Jake being traded to San Diego should definitely not cause Bradley to feel so unhinged. Not at all. He can be teammates, they've done that before, except that Jake is just as annoying and attractive to Bradley as he was when they were younger.

such great heights {E}

“Not sure if it’s clear by now, but I sort of had a huge thing for you.” No words come to mind — no, scratch that. Too many words flood Jake’s brain and sit at the tip of his tongue, but none of them seem fit for expressing the gooey feeling overtaking his heart.

Sliding Series by Barnes_Brain

{Baseball}

Parts 1-6 are the original Sliding Into Home Part 7 is an Alternate Universe Where Bradley is a reliever and Jake is his catcher

Sliding into Home {E}

{Baseball player!Bradley & Social Media/In-game host!Jake}

Bradley is the star shortstop for the St. Louis Cardinals. The announcers adore him, his teammates love him, and the fans, mostly female, relish that at 29 he’s still single. Right before the start of the season he meets Jake Seresin, the new in-game host and social media admin. Jake has a smile that lights up the sun, an ass that Bradley could stare at for hours, and abs that go for days. Most important? He does not seem to give a shit about the fact that Bradley’s one of the best shortstops in the game. Jake Seresin did not expect to end up in fucking Missouri of all places, but after 4 years in the Navy to pay for a Public Relations and Communications degree? He’s gonna fucking use it. So Imagine his surprise when a moustached hunk runs into him in the tunnels of Busch Stadium. Literally. Jake won’t lie he’d climb the man in front of him like a tree, and might actually if he lets him. The only problem? He doesn’t even know what a shortstop does? When Bradley finds out Jake doesn’t know the difference between a foul post and a goal post he makes it his mission to make Jake fall in love with the sport that changed his life. He never imagined he’d get Jake falling for him instead. He wasn’t going to complain.

Caught Looking {E}

{Pitcher!Bradley & Catcher!Jake}

After spending three seasons in the Japanese Major leagues, also known as the NPB, pitcher Bradley Bradshaw has finally made it back to The Show. Signed to the Seattle Mariners, not only does he have to get reacquainted with the league, he also needs to get adjusted to their new catcher, Jake Seresin. The only problem? No one knows that they fucked through the minors together. What if the accident never happened in Sliding into Home? What if Jake actually showed up to one of Javy’s games? This is how things would change.

You gave me time to find out what my heart was lookin' for by trinipedia {E}

{Boxer-Personal Trainer!Bradley}

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is a personal trainer, among other things. He specializes in preparing young actors for their next action role, but when he's given the task of turning dancer/actor Jake "Hangman" Seresin into a believable boxer, he has his work cut out for him.

An Inside The Park Home Run by Midnight___phoenix {T}

{Baseball}

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was a First round draft pick for the New York Yankees. He was highlighted while in the minors as the next best Third baseman of our generation. He likes to think the hype was true. He bats over .300 every year (well despite his rookie year where he batted .282 and ended up winning Rookie Of The Year, but he likes to think of that year as a fluke when it comes to his batting average.) and has won the Gold Glove award three times in 10 seasons in the big show. He is without a doubt one of the best current ball players. He just wishes he wouldn’t get compared to Jake “Hangman” Seresin so much.

Formula 1: Deceive to Achieve by greenstuff {E}

{F1}

When new teammates, Jake and Bradley, agree to pretend they’re in a committed relationship to land a sponsorship deal, they probably should have factored in the possibility they might fall for their own lies.

Two-Way(s) Forward by Barnes_Brain {M}

{Hockey player!Jake & Rink owner!Bradley}

Jake Seresin was the LA King’s best two-way forward, leading not only his line, but his team with the coveted C on his chest. But when an injury sends him to Bob Floyd, PT extraordinaire, in hopes of getting back on the ice, he finds a little more than a path back to his career.

Desire is the only motivation by trinipedia {M}

{Rugby}

After a life-altering accident, Bradley Bradshaw moves to Texas to change his perspective. Bradley has decided not to think about American football ever again, but the chance meeting with an arrogant Texan, Jake Seresin, might change it all, not only for him but for the aforementioned Texan, as well.

IWTBY Verse by hangmanbradshaw

{NFL QB!Jake}

I want to brainwash you into loving me forever {E}

“So…this is fucking weird and I have no clue what to say here.” Bradley smiled warmly and leaned his forearms against the table. “Don’t worry, Mav already filled me in, and I’ll do it.” Jake blinked. “You’ll do it?” “Yeah.” Bradley sat back with a nod. “You want to come out, right? If us appearing to be in a stable relationship will help, then I’m in.” Or, Jake Seresin has it all- fame, money, a NFL MVP trophy, a Super Bowl appearance, a lonely house, and a problem. He wants to come out on his own terms. Enter Bradley Bradshaw, the solution to said problem, or maybe, the beginning of a new problem. After all, you don't fall in love with your fake boyfriend.

Wanna Be Your Left Hand Man {E}

Europe calls. Jake & Bradley answer.

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings {E}

Nine months into their official relationship, Jake and Bradley navigate a new season of the NFL, life, and their relationship. Or Ice and Mav get married, the gang all celebrates, and Bradley and Jake find home in each other once again, in more ways than one.

love thorns all over this rose {_}

Bradley's friends watch him lose himself, find himself, and then find something even better. Or Bradley doesn’t really do dating, until he does. Aka Bradley pre-IWTBY, and a little during, according to Reuben, Callie, and Jonathan.

these blokes warm the benches, we been on a winning streak {E}

Bradley & Jake prepare for the next season.

this love is ours {_}

The season before their wedding throws a curveball at Jake and Bradley. But they face it as they always do- together.

Watson Wildhearts by KatofKanals {E}

{HS Football}

16 year old Bradley Bradhsaw is new to Watson, Texas in the summer of 2000 and he is downright miserable—he hates the whole town and all the people in it. That includes Jake Seresin, the star quarterback and rich boy at the top of the social pyramid. Eventually, though, Bradley starts to wonder if maybe there’s more to Watson and Jake Seresin than he saw at first glance. Maybe there’s something special there after all.

get your head in the game by abliafina {T}

{Volleyball in Corporate setting}

Hangman thought he'd thrown in the towel when it came to his volleyball days, but when Rooster, the handsome team leader from another company, invites him to join the summer tournament he knows he's done for. There were worse fates than spending the day on the beach.

Love (Suite Love) by hangmanbradshaw {T}

{NFL QB!Jake}

Jake never thought he'd leave a pop concert with a public crush. Bradley was on vocal rest. Really, he was.

sparks fly (sereshaw's version) by marchrain {T}

{College Baseball & Football}

Bradley Bradshaw, the freshman starting pitcher for Pacific Harbor University, meets Jake Seresin, the new hot-shot quarterback. He hates Jake, there's not a single thing likeable about him. He hates the way his hair is held up by gel, the look in those stupid emerald eyes of his, the fact that he's a football player of all sports—Jake's insufferable. But then, why does he enjoy their banter? Why does he like the dumb toothpick that sits between Jake's teeth? Why does his stomach flip when Jake laughs? Why do his eyes keep flicking down to Jake's lips? - or, sereshaw sports uni slice of life au

when bradley falls in love (goose & carole's version) by discosleaze {T}

{NFL QB!Jake}

Snippets of i want to brainwash you into loving me-verse, from Goose & Carole's perspectives, aka watching their son fall in love.

I talk a big game that I'm scared of losin' by hangmanbradshaw {E}

{Boxer!Bradley}

Jake's a professor ready to jump back into the dating pool, Bradley's a little rough around the edges, and Nat swears they're perfect for each other. She might be right. Or Jake dumps his loser ex and moves to California to be near Nat and Javy. Nat knows a guy, and sometimes opposites attract.

cuz you know I love the players and you love the game by hangmanbradshaw {E}

{College Baseball & Football & Cheerleading}

Jake's the star quarterback, Bradley's the star baseball captain. They both like playing games, turns out they want the same prize. Or Bradley dresses as a cheerleader for the team and Jake hates him (except that he totally doesn't)

suburban legends ✈ by vahosi

{NFL QB!Bradley}

we were born to be suburban legends {G}

unmarked numbers in my peripheral vision (july) — chapters 1-12 flush with the currency of cool (august) — chapters 13-24 where the spirit meets the bones (september) — chapters 25-36

we were born to be the pawn in every lover's game {_}

you kiss me in a way that's going to screw me up forever (october) — chapters 1-12 dare to sit and watch what we'll become (november) — chapters 13-24 my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand (december) — chapters 25-36

and they were batterymates by teacupivy {E}

{Baseball}

They’ve been teammates for just a few months now, but plenty long enough to have the whole dick-measuring-in-the-locker-room, fist-fight-on-the-field, make-up-behind-the-scenes, suddenly-best-duo-in-the-MLB speedrun.

red river rivalry by hypnagogicpunisher {M}

{College Football}

He’s heard the buzz about the new 4-star on the Texas team. It piques his interest. Oklahoma had been dominating the last few years of the rivalry, but betting odds were hot against the Sooners going into the game week, partially because of this Seresin kid. A true freshman, with his kind of stats, was a rarity. Bradley wonders just a bit what his passing stats would look like with him, who seemingly has fucking magnets for hands and the ability to stretch for a pass like he’s made of rubber. -- He can feel the frustration snaking through his body, settling with a numbness in his fingertips. At 2nd and 10, his pass is tipped and ruled incomplete. He can hear a jeer from the sideline, and he fucking knows it’s Seresin.

Team Player by SunMonTue {E}

{NRL ➡️Not an AU but fits my kinda vibes}

Jake's cousin plays for the Sydney Roosters and gifts him with merchandise. Regularly. Bradley has an unexpected realization.

he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind by hangmanbradshaw {E}

{College Baseball & Tennis}

Jake is absolutely not going to spend his summer vacation alone at his family's beach house with his ex boyfriend and said ex's new boyfriend. Bradley needs a place to stay for the summer. Faking a relationship solves both their problems, until it creates a new problem when they start to fall for their own ruse. Unless it ends up not being a problem at all. Or Jake's a trust fund, tennis star at Vanderbilt. Bradley's an orphaned baseball star on scholarship. Their worlds are very different, but all they need is three months in Rhode Island to build a new one together.

this is me flying, this is me trying, this is what keeps me alive (like my daddy before me and his daddy before that) by playingwiththeboysisagayanthem {E}

{Barrel Racing}

" Bradley eyed his godfather questioningly and Mav sighed again, “I either break Carole’s rules behind her back or risk never being able to see her compete,” he stroked a soft hand over the horse’s nose, “And I don’t like either option.” The silence hung in the air for a long moment before Bradley broke it, “Soooo…” Mav chuckled and then sighed again, “I guess you just got your wish, kid, 'cause it looks like I’m about to have to teach you to be a barrel racer.” " --------------- aka, what if Mav and Goose were barrel racers instead of pilots? And Bradley followed in their footsteps?

but daddy I love him by hangmanbradshaw {E}

{Boxer!Bradley}

Bradley's life is far from perfect, especially with his injury and career going up in flames. Jake Seresin's life is gilded- golden and untouchable from his castle. He's everything Bradley's not- the son of one of Manhattan's most prestigious families, and the star of the New York Ballet. He's also, unfortunately, what Bradley needs right now, his last shot at getting back in the ring. He might end up being everything Bradley didn't know he needed, in the end. And as for Jake, well, it turns out he may need more than Bradley imagined.

nothing's gonna touch you in these golden years by idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo {T}

{Olympic pole vaulting & diver}

going to the Olympics to, hopefully, win gold in pole vaulting would be a lot more fun for Bradley if Jake Seresin, diver and asshole extraordinaire, wasn't also competing and making his life miserable. or would it?

got a shot of kerosene in my veins by halestrom {E}

{Fighter!Bradley}

Fighting was the only thing Bradley could do to help his family when they found themselves in a mountain of debt, and he didn't regret it, not if it meant they would be okay. But he never expected to meet Jake Seresin, nor to get drawn deeper into a world he didn't want any part of, even though, as time wore on, he realized he wanted Jake. More than he should.

#Sports Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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tolietpaperdreams · 22 days

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Warned You Chapter 2 (Shawnter)

Sorry this fic is taking a lil bit to cook, I keep writing ideas, finding they don’t work and then saving them for later so this chapter took a hot min. But I’m back in the kitchen yall!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58413820/chapters/149478107#main

TW: panic attacks and a lot of self loathing happening here so be mindful!

(the gif has nothing to do with the story)

🗣️ BUT YEAH COME GET YOUR DINNER !!!

Things calmed down after that for a while. Shawn took his healing seriously, and Hunter eventually headed back on the road when they both decided Shawn would be able to handle himself. He couldn't help but feel like a child who was finally allowed to be home alone for the first time, but instead of being excited, he dreaded it.

Whenever Hunter was home, they didn't talk about work. Shawn would ask how things were going and get a simple answer along the lines of ‘good’ or ‘build-up needs work.’ He would never go into details, and even when Shawn would pry, Hunter would just tell him he wasn't in the mood to talk about work.

It’s not like Shawn was entirely isolated from the company, he still had a few friends, but he felt like he’d be going behind Hunter’s back. Watching Raw wouldn’t give him all the answers he needed either, but what else could he do?

With DX just being a pedestal for Hunter now, he was slowly but surely leaving them behind for more on-screen opportunities; he’d get a title shot soon enough.

Maybe Shawn was jealous that Hunter seemed to be thriving in his career without him or he was mad that he wasn't there to at least witness it. Unfortunately, it was really starting to affect Shawn.

All the extra attention at work had Hunter away for longer periods of time, and the fact that they hadn’t even discussed it had Shawn reeling.

He was so clingy when Hunter was home that he’d practically follow the man into every room he went into in the house. Shawn was so jealous of someone potentially trying to get at what was his that when Hunter was in the shower, he’d dig through his luggage to look for any signs of infidelity, but luckily, never found any.

“Do you jerk off on the road?”

Hunter’s brows went straight to his forehead, “What a fucking bizarre thing to ask me after I just fucked your brains out.”

Shawn was sprawled on top of Hunter, using the bigger man’s chest as a pillow. It was the first night Hunter had been home in over a week, and it had been a really tough week for Shawn all alone.

“Do you think about me when you do it?” Shawn propped his chin up on a hand.

“Baby, I do not wanna have this conversation right now,” Hunter said, exasperated.

Shawn groaned and rolled his eyes, “That’s what you say when I ask you anything. You never talk to me anymore.”

“I do too,” Hunter gave Shawn’s ass a squeeze, “I call you every day I'm gone.”

He couldn’t argue that. Hunter was good about being frequent with his calls, but again, he never went into details about work. It felt like Shawn was missing a very big part of not only Hunter’s but also his own life.

“Have you heard from Kev and Scott recently?” Shawn asked, changing the subject.

Tracing lines up and down Shawn’s back, Hunter nonchalantly nodded, “Yeah, I saw them when they were in St. Louis the same time I was.”

Shawn swallowed, “You didn’t see… him, right?”

“Would it be a problem if I did?” Hunter’s brow furrowed, “He’s your ex, not mine.”

“When I talked to Kevin a while back, he said Bret asked about me,” Shawn averted his gaze.

“Should I be concerned?” Hunter asked before continuing, “When I saw him he asked how you were and I told him you were fine. And before you ask, he knows we’re together. So can I ask, why do you care what Bret has to say?”

“I don’t!” Shawn got defensive quickly, “No, you don’t need to be concerned. I just don’t have a lot of closure.”

Hunter stopped the gentle traces with his fingers and clenched his jaw, Shawn shouldn’t have said that.

“Can we just go to bed?” Hunter went monotone.

“I’m sorry, babe that’s not what I meant,” Shawn pleaded.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Hunter shifted and turned so his back was facing his partner.

***

The next morning, Shawn woke up hoping he could fix what he had broken. Make-up sex with Hunter was always something both parties enjoyed, but the other side of the bed was cold when he opened his eyes.

Hunter was always an earlier riser, mostly out of lifestyle habit, so Shawn wasn’t concerned that he’d run off, but it still stung a little that they couldn’t curl up together this morning. Not like Shawn deserved it.

‘I don’t have closure.’ God, what was he thinking? He practically admitted to Hunter right there that he had some sort of feelings left for Bret. Which wasn’t true, that he knew of.

All Shawn wanted was answers; he didn’t want Bret. Hunter stood by Shawn’s side through everything, and he had the audacity to ask for more.

“Hunter?” He called, sitting up slowly, his back letting him know that it protested the movement.

There was no answer so he tried again, “Hunter?”

Silence again. Panic started to creep in. Maybe he had left. Shawn couldn’t be alone, he wasn’t good by himself, and Hunter knew that. Hunter wouldn’t leave him alone would he? Not in the shape he was in.

Shawn winced as he stood and threw on the nearest pair of shorts before practically limping into the hallway. His heart rate skyrocketed at the thought of being left behind, but the guilt made it feel deserved.

He turned the corner hoping to find his partner in the kitchen, but there was no one there. There was, however, a fresh pot of coffee and a note that read, ‘In the garage, will make breakfast when you’re up.’

Shawn closed his eyes and exhaled, relief flooding his system. He took a minute to pour himself some coffee and calm his racing heart before heading into the garage.

The larger man was in the middle of a set of curls when Shawn opened the door. Seeing Hunter there physically had Shawn exhaling a calming breath, he did his best to look like he hadn’t been freaking out a moment ago.

Hunter soon took notice of Shawn’s presence and set his weights aside before getting up to turn the loud music from the stereo down.

“Hey babe,” The larger man greeted, planting a kiss on Shawn’s cheek and wrapping him in a hug, “You sleep okay?”

It didn't matter that Hunter was sweaty and shirtless to Shawn, he took in the other man’s scent and relaxed at his touch. Hunter wouldn't leave him, not that easily, even though Shawn knew he deserved it. He wrapped his arms around Hunter’s waist and tucked his face into the crook of his neck.

They stayed like that for a bit, Shawn slowly coming back down from the panic and Hunter acting as his anchor. If the bigger man could tell something was wrong, he didn't mention it.

“I still want to talk about last night,” Hunter said calmly, pulling his face back to look Shawn in the eyes, “But it can wait ‘till after breakfast.”

Shawn opened his mouth to apologize, but Hunter stopped him, “Breakfast, first. I’m starving.”

After their meal, Shawn broke their somewhat comfortable silence, “I’m sorry about what I said.”

Hunter took a sip of his coffee and sighed, “I know Shawn,” He set the mug down and scratched his cheek, “But how am I supposed to feel knowing you're still thinking about your ex?”

“I don't think about him,” Shawn said with little confidence, “Not in the way you think. You're my everything, Hunt. I think I’m just a little bitter about how things went down with Bret.”

“So there's still a door that hasn't been closed with him,” Hunter's jaw clenched after he spoke, he looked like he was trying his best to keep his cool and be patient, “But it shouldn't matter, Shawn. You moved on. Sometimes no closure is closure in itself.”

Everything that his partner was saying made sense, Hunter was entirely rooted in logic, which wasn't always the best when it came to Shawn’s overzealous emotions. How could he convince Hunter that his words didn't match his thoughts? The only thing he truly knew was to show him with his body, but that wasn’t how Hunter worked. He always wanted to talk things out.

“I just need to know that if he’s ever around is it going to be a problem?” Hunter asked with a finality.

“Why would he be around?”

Bret was as good as gone. Shawn never even considered going to WCW, and with the way Hunter’s career was headed, he’d never have to go back, either.

“I’m surprised Kevin hasn’t spilled it yet,” Hunter’s eyes met his partner’s.

Shawn’s gut dropped, “What are you talking about?”

Hunter exhaled, “Bret’s coming back to the company.”

There was only a certain amount of bullshit Shawn could take, and this one had to be a joke. Hunter was definitely fucking with him.

So he laughed. He laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it; Bret hated the company and everyone involved, especially Shawn. There was no way he'd be willing to come back, even with Shawn out of action.

“Okay, I deserve that, that's a good one,” Shawn wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

The look on Hunter’s face was not playful at all, and that's when Shawn’s heart sank again.

Shawn gaped, “You’re serious.”

Suddenly, his back reminded him that he hadn’t taken his medications and a sharp pain ran throughout his spine.

Hunter sighed, “He’s been in talks with Vince for a few months now.”

“It’s hardly been a fucking year since he left,” Shawn’s voice was quiet as he spoke.

“Kevin said he only signed a year with WCW, so it was just a matter of time.”

Kevin. Traitor.

“Why wouldn't he tell me?” Shawn was feeling every emotion at once; his heart rate began to rise and he was once again on the verge of panic.

“Probably to keep you from freaking out,” Hunter said all too calmly.

“How long have you known?” Shawn’s tone became accusatory.

Hunter hesitated for a moment before coming out with the truth, “About a month.”

“And you didn't tell me because?” Shawn was furious and devastated at the same time, he felt lied to.

“Because the only thing you need to focus on is your healing and getting back in the ring, babe,” Hunter reached for Shawn’s hand, but he quickly yanked it back, “You’ve been under so much stress, I was trying to protect you.”

“I don't need protecting, Hunter. I'm a grown man, not a fucking damsel in distress,” Shawn sat back and ran a hand through his hair, still unkempt from the morning.

A moment of quiet stretched between them, Shawn’s emotions and Hunter’s logic butting heads at the same time.

“You keep losing focus on what matters,” Hunter said, finally.

“Really? That's what you chose to say right now?” Shawn scoffed back.

“Do you want your career back, Shawn? Or do you want to keep worrying about what other people are doing with their lives?” Hunter seemed at a loss, he wasn't meeting Shawn’s angry energy.

Move on, get over it. How could he? One of the biggest regrets of Shawn’s life was what he did to Bret in the end. He was a coward and a lowlife; he deserved everything bad that happened afterward.

Storming off wouldn't fix anything, but how else was Shawn supposed to react? Hunter wasn't wrong, he rarely was when it came to this type of thing, but there was just so much of his relationship with Bret that Hunter didn't know about. Those unclosed doors haunted him and as much as he wanted to forget, Shawn knew that he was just hit in the face with the reality of it all. He was going to have to live with the consequences of his actions.

Shawn’s demeanor changed. He wasn’t angry anymore; he didn't want to yell. He was regretful, but wasn't a big part of life supposed to be about growing and changing? It was so easy for Hunter to look past it all because he was on the sidelines of everything, but for Shawn, he was one of the main players.

“You can make things right, but you have to give yourself some grace,” Hunter again reached for Shawn’s hand, this time he allowed it.

Shawn in turn, squeezed his partner’s hand, tracing his knuckles with his thumb. The patience and love Hunter had for him was everything he could have ever dreamed of, but he’d never felt like he deserved it.

***

The weeks continued to burn by and Raw was in town for the night, which meant Shawn could actually attend the show. He still wasn’t in a great place to travel, but as soon as he got the clear, he’d be back on the road with Hunter. He wanted to be around wrestling again, even if he was just backstage. He’d follow Hunter around like a groupie if he had to.

“You sure you’re up to go tonight?” Hunter asked as he packed his gear bag.

Shawn was sprawled out on the bed staring at the ceiling, “I might not have a lot of friends at the moment, but it would look bad if I didn’t go.”

“Chyna will be happy to see you,” Hunter offered.

Shawn considered that for a moment, “That’s true, she’s a sweetheart.”

“And there’s Road Dogg and Pac and Billy.”

“Oh right. The guys you replaced me with,” Shawn’s voice was monotone.

He hadn’t brought up his grievances with the way Hunter was using DX as a stepping stool, but there were bigger issues than that in his life at the moment. Shawn would never rag on Hunter’s success; it just felt like the faction they’d created together was getting tossed to the side.

“You weren’t replaced, Shawn,” Hunter tossed an extra shirt into his bag, “DX isn’t some secret club.”

“X-Pac is the only one that gets a pass,” Shawn sat up, luckily with little pain for the time being, “And that’s only because he’s family.”

Members of the Kliq were always referred to as family by Shawn and Hunter. At the time, X-Pac was known as the 1-2-3 Kid, and he was often the butt of a lot of their ribbing, but he was still a brother to them. There was a long period of time where they were all each other had, especially being on the road fifty weeks out the year. The guys in the Kliq were tight; no matter how far away or how long it had been, especially now with Kevin and Scott tearing it up in WCW.

“Take it up with the boss, it’s already been done,” Hunter shrugged.

Sometimes his logic irked Shawn. Wasn’t he allowed to just be irritated sometimes?

Shawn groaned in annoyance and stood, “Whatever, can we leave now?”

Hunter shouldered his bag and gave Shawn a look, “If you’re done whining, darling.” He said sarcastically.

Shawn repeated what Hunter said in a mocking tone, making the other man grin. Sometimes they were a little mean to each other, but it always came down to them not just being partners but best friends as well.

Hunter followed as Shawn made his way out of the room, earning a yelp from the shorter man when he pinched his ass.

***

Shawn shouldn’t be nervous. This was his domain, the WWF was where he excelled; he was a top guy. So why did he feel like he was going to throw up? It had been months since he’d even been backstage and there were so many people who were entirely too happy to see him go, even if at times it felt entirely deserved. But Shawn was working on bettering himself and that meant he owed a lot of apologies.

For a long time, Shawn expressed his anger and frustration by lashing out, it was something he continued to struggle with. The fact that Hunter continued to stick by him even at his lowest spoke volumes. The least Shawn could do was support his partner at an event.

They didn’t see anyone on the way in, which was a relief to Shawn, but sooner or later he was going to have to face his fears of putting on a genuine smile and trying to play nice.

“You alright?” Hunter asked as they made their way into his dressing room.

Being a new top guy had its perks, and with it came a private dressing room. Shawn was immensely grateful for it at that moment.

“I’m not sure,” Shawn took a seat in the nearest chair, “It kind of feels like I don’t really belong here anymore.”

“Of course you belong here,” Hunter set his bag down and started to change, “You’ve been gone for a long time, it’s gonna feel a little weird.”

“Yeah that’s probably what it is, just nerves,” There was no way to explain the complex series of emotions that Shawn was feeling.

When Hunter finished changing, they left the dressing room so he could get a warm-up in. Shawn knew Hunter liked doing his warm-ups alone so he could get into a good headspace, which meant that he was going to be left to his own devices. He could opt to hide away in the dressing room, but he at least wanted to say hello to a few people.

He walked around for a bit, taking in the commotion backstage. It felt odd being on the other side of everything; observing instead of getting ready for a performance. Shawn hadn’t realized how little he paid attention in the past; there was so much happening all at once. Roadies running around putting things together, the glam department, the caterers; It took so many people for this organization to run. Was he really so egotistical that he’d taken all of it for granted?

“Hey stranger!”

Shawn turned his head towards the feminine voice and his anxiety melted. Chyna was as beautiful and buff as ever and she genuinely looked happy to see him. As much as he loved and adored Hunter, only seeing one person for months at a time probably wasn’t very good for him.

“Look at you!” Shawn greeted as he wrapped her in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Shawn,” She squeezed him then pulled back, “How are you feeling?”

Normally, Shawn loved to talk about himself, but he didn’t want to bore her with the fact that all he did as of late was gripe and moan and lay around the house waiting for Hunter to give him attention.

“I’m alright,” He shrugged, “Hunter keeps me spoiled.”

Chyna huffed a laugh, “I’m sure he does. When do you think you’ll be in the ring again?”

“Not sure yet, I’m just hoping I can one day,” Shawn tried to sound positive but his tone betrayed him.

Chyna gave him a sympathetic look, “You will be. They can’t get rid of you that easily.”

Shawn ached to change the subject, even though he appreciated her kind words.

“How do you feel about all the changes to DX?” He asked. If anybody knew anything, it would be her.

“I don’t love it, I'll be honest, I miss having you out there. But it’s been pretty good for everyone’s careers, especially Hunter,” She replied.

“I know,” Shawn scratched his chin, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say, “Did Hunter ever run any of it by you before it happened?”

“He just kind of started making decisions after you left. He talks to McMahon a lot more than he used to,” Chyna explained with a shrug.

So Hunter was working his way up the corporate ladder. That wasn’t inherently a bad thing, but Shawn knew firsthand how much of a slippery slope it could be.

“He hasn’t talked to you about any of this?” Chyna raised her brow.

“We don’t talk about work much,” Shawn feigned a half smile, “Try to keep home life and work life separate y’know?”

Shawn wouldn’t mention the fact that every time he turned on Raw and saw Hunter continue to move on from what they had created tore his heart in half. He also wouldn’t mention that he was so bitter about his injury that even watching wrestling in general almost brought tears to his eyes.

Chyna nodded in response, and moved to give Shawn another hug, “I have to go get ready for the show, but call me sometime, okay? I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” He squeezed her gently before letting go.

As Chyna walked away, Shawn felt his heartstrings tug; maybe he had more friends than he thought he did.

What she said about Hunter was troubling, though. Shawn always knew Hunter was meant for big things, but if Vince got too into his partner’s head, it could backfire. Hunter spent a lot of time protecting Shawn, but he’d never considered that Hunter needed protecting back. In that way, he’d been selfish.

After a moment, he continued walking throughout the backstage area, not really looking for anything in particular. Shawn knew there were certain people he wanted to avoid; Vince being one of them. He still technically worked for the man, but any interaction with Vince would just lead to talking about Shawn’s injury or his plans with Hunter, and that was something he wanted to avoid.

He wandered into the catering room with the idea of sneaking a donut on his mind when he was met with a familiar head of shaggy bright blonde hair. Shawn felt the blood drain from his face at the sight and turned to escape, but if there was any chance for him to sneak away, it was quickly ruined.

The individual in question had caught him, “Shawn?”

Shawn grimaced inwardly before responding, “Hey, Owen.”

The youngest Hart brother wasn’t someone Shawn had prepared himself to see, but as awkward as it was, Owen was a good guy. He was also someone who deserved an apology from Shawn, especially after the end of his relationship with Bret; he hadn’t seen a need to be kind to Owen, even though he had nothing to do with what happened.

And as Shawn’s luck would have it, Owen was holding a plate stacked with exactly what Shawn was looking for. The donuts backstage were always one of Shawn’s favorite treats; so much so that the talent would often bicker about there not being enough. It looked like Owen had just nabbed the last few, no doubt to bring some to share with his buddies.

“Are you healed up?” There was zero animosity in Owen’s voice because of course there wasn’t, he was always kind.

Shawn hesitated for a moment,”No, not yet. Just here to support Hunter.”

“Right,” There was an awkward silence that followed.

Shawn couldn’t blame Owen for not having much to say, in the other man’s world, Shawn was a villain. Someone who hurt his brother and tortured him afterward just for being related. Owen had no reason to even give Shawn the time of day, but here he was, asking if he was healing okay.

Shawn didn’t deserve Owen’s forgiveness nor did he deserve one of the other man’s donuts, but if he was going to try to be a better person, he needed to commit to it entirely.

Clearing his throat, Shawn finally took the long-awaited leap, “Listen, Owen. I need to apologize to you.”

Owen didn’t say anything, but he didn’t run off or punch Shawn in the face, which was a good sign that he was willing to hear what Shawn had to say.

“You didn’t have anything to do with what happened between me and your brother, and I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you. I’m sorry.”

Owen exhaled and gave Shawn a puzzled look, “I don’t know man, you used your pull with Vince to get me thrown to the mid-card for six months. I could’ve been fired if I didn’t prove that I was worth something.”

“I know, I-” Shawn felt himself getting flustered, “God, I didn’t realize I was that bad.”

Owen let out a chuckle at that, “Yeah, it wasn’t great,” he paused for a moment, then held out the plate of donuts, “Saw you eyeing these.”

Shawn gratefully took one, a smile forming, “Thanks.”

“I think you’ve suffered enough with an injury like that,” Owen shrugged, “People can change. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, I think you just have some work to do.”

Few and far people in between would so easily forgive someone like Shawn, but that just proved the decency of Owen’s character. It felt good to be on the right side of something for once.

Shawn figured he’d ask the dreaded question before things got too sappy, “So, Bret’s coming back?”

He took a bite of the donut so he didn’t have to say anything else.

Owen nodded, “He’s here tonight if you want to give him the same spiel.”

The donut turned to ash in his mouth. Of course, Bret was here. Shawn quickly swallowed and tried to think of something to say. Suddenly, the urge to hide away in Hunter’s dressing room was overwhelming; he needed to escape.

Owen must have caught on to Shawn’s change of feeling; he offered a solution, “I won’t tell him you’re here if you don’t want me to.”

“He’ll find out sooner or later,” Shawn shook his head and relented, “It’s alright. Thanks for being a good sport. I’m gonna go find a place to watch the show.”

Shawn gave Owen a pat on the shoulder before heading out of the room; he shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth and tried to think of a way he could hide and watch Hunter at the same time.

***

“There you are,” Hunter greeted Shawn at gorilla with a kiss to his temple.

“Hey,” Shawn wanted to lean into his partner’s touch, but there was too much going on around him at the moment.

Hunter was waiting for his music to hit so he could interrupt a title match. The other members of DX weren’t in sight so Shawn assumed Hunter would be going out on his own.

“I talked to Chyna,” Shawn brought up, “She said she missed me.”

“I told you she does,” Hunter said as he continued to stretch and stay warm.

Part of Shawn wanted to start an argument and bring up the fact that Hunter said nothing about Bret lurking around backstage, but then again, he’d been warned plenty in advance that Bret was coming back in the first place.

“I saw Owen in catering.”

Hunter stopped his movement and raised a brow, “Oh? How’d that go?”

“He gave me a donut,” Shawn shrugged.

Before Hunter could respond, his music hit and it was time for him to exit, “We’ll talk about it later.”

He gave Shawn’s hand a squeeze and hit the ramp; the crowd going absolutely wild at his presence. A pang of pride swelled in Shawn’s chest as he watched Hunter’s entrance on the monitor. In the years that Shawn had known Hunter, it was good to finally see all the hard work pay off. He just wanted to make sure that Hunter didn’t end up going about success in the same way Shawn had; practically letting it ruin his life and all the relationships around him. But Shawn would be the first to admit that Hunter had more of a level head on his shoulders than he did at the time. For now, he’d let the issue rest, but he promised himself to keep an eye on Raw, even if it hurt.

The event went off without a hitch and Shawn actually enjoyed himself. He’d been trapped in his head a lot and really wanted to be present for Hunter. He wanted so badly to get back in the ring himself and sometimes when he forgot how much the sport truly meant to him, it took something like a live show to bring him back in.

Knowing that Hunter would be busy with post-show interviews and promos, Shawn waited for him in a quiet area backstage. He said hello to a few of the younger wrestlers as they made their way out of the arena, assuring them that he'd be back and better than ever in no time.

Soon enough, he finally saw Hunter coming his way and politely excused himself from the small talk he’d been making.

Hunter looked exhausted but no worse for wear; Shawn was positive the man wanted nothing more than a shower and to sleep. His partner gave him a smile as he approached, but got distracted when someone called his name.

At first, Shawn assumed it would just be another employee asking about the details of next week or telling him where to be for the next house show, but Shawn could never be so lucky.

Bret made his way over to Hunter with a big smile on his face, Owen following. Hunter quickly made eye contact with Shawn before acknowledging the other; almost as if it were an apology. Shawn watched as Hunter took Bret’s hand and gave a friendly greeting then the same with Owen.

Dread filled Shawn’s mind but he tried to fight it. It was inevitable that he’d see Bret again one day given their history, but watching his current partner act friendly with his ex-partner did nothing to squash his nerves. He wanted to run up and tug Hunter away without saying a thing; he wanted to keep what was his and not share with anyone.

The only thing that made it so difficult was that they seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to each other like they’d been familiar for a while. Hunter knew the history; he’d watched it all happen from a bird’s eye view. In the end, Hunter ended up with Shawn, so shouldn’t he be quick to side with his lover?

It wasn’t until Bret turned and finally saw Shawn standing there like a deer in the headlights, that the true apprehension set in.

He saw Owen give his brother a tap and mouth something as he pointed in the other direction with his thumb; sweet Owen, he was always looking out for others and their feelings. Bret hadn’t broken eye contact with Shawn though, and he could feel his heart rise into his throat.

Shawn looked to Hunter, the man who saved him, someone who always had an answer to the problems, but the bigger man had no solution as he let Bret approach him.

The anxiety and fear of facing his biggest regret caught up to Shawn too fast and it suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. The room was getting entirely too small; he wanted Hunter, an anchor, someone, but Shawn suddenly realized how alone he truly was.

He turned and ran.

The car. He needed to get to the car. He’d wait for Hunter and then be as good as gone. Ran was an overstatement, Shawn’s back wasn’t going to let him go anywhere fast, but at that point, he didn’t care.

He’d almost made it to the parking garage entrance when his back finally made a protest he couldn’t ignore. The sharp pain ran down his spine causing Shawn to stop in his tracks and grimace in pain, he wanted to cry out but his panicked breathing made it too difficult. He reached out to grab the wall for support and leaned his forehead against the cool concrete.

Shawn expected pandemonium around him, but nothing came. The backstage area had mostly cleared out as it was, so there weren’t very many people to witness his panic attack, but that didn’t change the fact that Bret was still nearby and had seen all of it.

A gentle touch was soon laid on his shoulder and Shawn knew that it was Hunter. Relief should have flooded his system, but all Shawn felt was shame. He was such an embarrassment, and he couldn’t blame Hunter if he decided to leave.

“You okay?” The bigger man asked gently.

Shawn shook his head still pressed against the wall, he was still trying to catch his breath.

“I told them it wasn’t a good time, they’re gone,” Hunter added.

Shawn winced at Hunter’s words, he’d never felt so defeated in his life, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Hunter said with finality, “I need to change, but I’ll forgo the shower so we can get home quicker, okay?”

Nodding, Shawn finally pulled away from the wall, “I don’t know what happened. It felt like I couldn’t breathe-”

“Shawn, Bret’s not going to hurt you,” Hunter tried to reason.

It wasn’t that. Shawn knew Bret would never physically lay a hand on him, at least outside of the ring, but that wasn’t what set him off. It was the remorse and blame he felt towards himself. Shawn had been able to face Owen and give a proper apology, but with Bret, the flame of anguish burned so much deeper.

Shawn just shook his head, as much as he tried, Hunter wouldn’t understand.

#idk why the link looks stupid I’m having so many technical difficulties #shawnter #fanfic #shawn michaels #triple h #wwe #wwf #wwe fanfiction #ao3 writer

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 1 year

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hihihihi!! Would it be alright to ask for romantic mitzi hcs with a fem reader?

Hm… I'll be honest, I get a lot of femme fatale vibes with Mitzi. Not as obviously and scarily dangerous as with Serafine, but close enough. I'm sure Atlas could confirm.

Y/N and Mitzi (or Mary Ellen, as she was known at the time) met in dubious circumstances on the road. The friendship began over a common love for gin and the works of Edgar Allan Poe, and went on to become a brief fling for both.

Young Mary was a sparkling diamond, a bundle of joy and wistful daydreaming that enamoured both friends and partners. She had a flair for the exotic in both her taste in fashion and affairs, and seemed to find the rule breaking nature of having a female partner exhilarating. She dreamed of big things, although there was enough reasonable hesitation to reel her back into reality.

However, a brief infatuation remained just that, and they parted ways.

Y/N thought that would be it… until she bumped into Mary (or "Mitzi", as she preferred to be called now) in the streets of St. Louis, arm in arm with a new fellow—a certain Atlas May, whose wedding ring she now wore.

Both Y/N and Mitzi averted their gazes from each other, but Y/N could feel her eyes burn through her as she strode out of sight.

Mitzi must have had connections, because she found Y/N's place of residence surprisingly quickly—and in a whirlwind, whatever romance they had was back.

Older Mitzi was slightly different from her younger self. There was still the fondness for gin, although mint juleps seemed to be her newfound drink of choice. Poe's literature evolved into a macabre love for the obituary column in the paper.

A sense of class and wealth replaced the innocent youth and carelessness she had in her younger years. She seemed older than she actually was.

Talks of dreams were still wild, but always dashed by bouts of nostalgia and the lingering presence of one new actor on their stage.

Y/N had no idea whether Mitzi loved or resented Atlas. She never talked much about him, but always went running back. It soured things a little.

Something seemed a little off, but it was hard to pinpoint what exactly it was...

However, with Mitzi back in her life, Y/N was truly happy.

Mitzi braided her hair like old times, sang and danced with her in her apartment's crummy bedroom, shared mindless gossip with an enthusiasm that both astounded and amused.

In those moments, Y/N could almost pretend that the world revolved just around the two of them.

She was sure she had Mitzi's heart forever when one night, she whispered: "I would kill for you, darling."

Coincidentally, Atlas May was found murdered three days later.

Coincidentally…

...right?

#🦉mod iphiko #lackadaisy #headcanon home brew #headcanon #lackadaisy reader insert #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy mitzi #mitzi may

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dubious-writing · 7 months

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💗 dunnerlars

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

Sorry this took so long anon, I had to go to work and, y’know, do my job as I can earn money to stay alive 😖 Hope you enjoy it!!

He can’t believe it. He can’t– he can’t believe it.

The Cup. The Cup.

It’s not the first time Vince has been here at the tail end of a grueling season, sticky with sweat and the muggy heat of dozens of other bodies crowded in around him, the taste of silver metallic and sweet on his lips. But it feels like it should be.

He liked St. Louis, is grateful to the Blues for drafting him and enjoyed his time there, still keeps in touch with the friends he made with the organization. But he didn’t realize the difference between playing for the love of the game and playing for the love of your team until he came to Seattle. Didn’t realize how good it would feel to lift 35 solid pounds knowing it couldn’t have happened without you.

There are cameras flashing at every angle, wires trailing across the ice just waiting for someone to trip over them or cut one with their skate. Vince feels half blind from the glare on the ice, like no matter which direction he turns he can’t stop squinting. A hand runs through his hair every few minutes, teammates and coaching staff and family members laying hands on any body in a teal jersey they can reach. He thinks maybe a kiss or two is smushed into his cheeks, but he doesn’t stop to find out. Vince isn’t sure what he’s looking for, just keeps spinning in place, wobbly on his feet from the mix of exhaustion and the never-ending hits of adrenaline. He isn’t sure until he finds it.

By some divine intervention, the crowds seem to part at just the right second for Vince to turn and see Adam there, across the ice maybe 30 feet away, blue eyes bright with tears above the unkempt scruff of his beard. Vince hasn’t seen a smile that big on his face since… he doesn’t really know, actually. Years, maybe, if at all. Adam is already looking back at him, watching, waiting for Vince to catch up and notice the attention.

It’s like there’s a piece of fishing line caught between them, tightening, pulling them together, though who is reeling who Vince couldn’t say. Doesn’t even particularly care either, when the end result is the two of them together, forming their own little pocket of pseudo-privacy in the middle of all the chaos and attention.

They’re not out, haven’t really discussed whether or not they want to be, but they haven’t been careful either. If Vince wants to hold his boyfriend's hands in the streets of the city, he does. If Adam wants to bundle him into a hoodie with a large number 6 on the back, he doesn’t hesitate. If Vince is seen amongst the display cases of a jewelry shop downtown getting a custom silver ring engraved, then so be it.

So it’s really not all that surprising - at least to them and those that know them - when Vince reaches up, places both hands on his love’s face, tracing along eyebrows and perpetual eyebags; when Adam’s fingers trace along the back of his neck and underneath the hem of his jersey, callouses catching on rough fabric; when neither of them can tell who leans in first and kiss right there on center ice. In front of god and the Stanley Cup and the entire city of Seattle.

As one kiss turns into two turns into five, when they’re finally noticed and Vince can hear the roar of the crowd die down but for just a second before it returns even louder than before and he can’t help but smile against Adam’s lips more than kiss them, he thinks about that silver ring in its gray velvet box hidden away under the knick knacks gathered on his bedside table. Thinks about the engraving on the inside molding the skin of Adam’s left hand. Thinks about how nice it will be for them to have two sets of matching rings, now.

Mitt hjärta, min skatt, mitt liv, mitt allt.

#vince dunn #adam larsson #seattle kraken #larsdunn #dunnernlars #hockey #hockey rpf #my writing

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licially · 4 months

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Reminisce

// I'm no stranger to writing canon characters, but writing one with little to no material is something I've been trying. Have my rendition of Atlas May, a very short one.

The man stood silently near a footpath, near a bunch of buildings that closed off the street from the main road. He’d been here multiple times before, the same spot with the same corner with the same exact pose. His cane almost denting the stonework beneath him, as cars drove across every aspect of the busy main road. His focus for the roads diminished as much as his awareness for the time; after all, the clock that was up ahead were just off by a few seconds. Amidst the burning fuel and rubber, he stood still with an unexplainable expression. It was neutral, but with every passing moment he seemed more and more mysterious. Untethered to his consciousness, but rather absorbed in his subconscious.

The traffic didn’t seem to help him out of it either. He had been standing out in the street adjacent to the speakeasy with the specific intersection being near the bridge that turned towards street just by the Little Daisy Café. A lot of traffic from Illinois towards Missouri goes through here, and he observed vehicles like birdwatching. Sometimes, some trucks with his supplies will turn at his road without hesitation. Other times, he’d watch the busy road towards St. Louis as passersby go on with their lives, unaware of the person whose hobby is to observe.

Although he indulges his time alone, inevitably something will come up that will distract him, and tether him back to reality. It’s only a reward for what he’d done for the business he’s keeping alive with his partner, and his wife. Work, however tiny it is, had been his focus for all the times he’d been here, and he’s not letting anything stop it. As the traffic slowed, his hearing picked up two pairs of footsteps that walked towards him, his ears slightly twitched as his eyes reeled towards the source of the sound.

“Atlas!” A more than excited, gruff voice came up behind him. He immediately turned around, and saw his companion walk up to him with a glass of sparkling wine in his hand. “Where’d you been? The party inside is much warmer than out here!” He puts his hands on his shoulder that had him holding his cane, nothing too rough so that they lost balance. Atlas quickly looked at a brightly smiling Asa, alongside a concerned Mitzi that he turned his attention to.

“Let’s go back inside, darlin’. You’ve been out here for too long.” She spoke up, reaching out for Atlas’ free hand and holding onto it. Her hand, however, showed a different warmth in comparison to Asa’s.

To Mitzi, her hand on his was a way to show her love to him. Normally at events like this, Mitzi wears gloves to not let her hands be dirtied by anything. This time around, however, he saw her other hand had the glove that she took off. Her white dress was dimmed by the night’s light outside, and for her to dredge through the dirty roads and footpaths was dedication. She held her hand out to him, and his reluctant hold turned into a much more assuring one.

Yet Asa felt cold. His voice reeked of alcohol, foods, and everything in between that contradicted his surname. Although they both helped each other to achieve this status and where they are now are held together by their alliance, his breath was shaky at best, and his hands didn’t have the same amount of togetherness that he had thought. His smile didn’t seem genuine either, it’s as if he only wanted him to be back in there for his benefit and showing off instead of letting him be.

Although both had intentions that were the same, the sincerity of each of them was a massive difference. He didn’t want to say much – as if he had much to say – so he nodded, taking Mitzi’s hand and slightly batting away a tipsy Asa. Mitzi smiled at him, as they all turned back into the street towards the speakeasy. His observations, however, lingered in his mind. He’d never been wrong about anything that he’d suspected before, and this time he’d still be right.

Albeit it’s the last truth he’d ever find out.

#lackadaisy #atlas may #mitzi may #asa sweet #licial

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transitofmercury · 9 months

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Pulitzer Family Fact Post (Katherine's Siblings Edition)

I'm finally doing it, after threeish years, I'm finally making posts about my acquired knowledge of the Pulitzer family. I'm starting with what I know about his kids because I think that's what people would find most interesting. I'd quite like to go on about Pulitzer's siblings and what people have managed to figure out about his childhood but I'll do that another day. It's been a while so I might forget stuff or get things slightly wrong but I'm doing my best to be accurate. Information is mostly from James McGrath Morris' book, 'Pulitzer: A life in Politics, Print and Power' and records I looked at on Ancestry (I got really weird about this).

Pulitzer and his wife, Kate Davis, had 7 children: Ralph, Lucille, Katherine, Joseph, Edith, Constance and Herbert. I'm just going to go through kid-by-kid and reel off everything I remember that is actually semi-interesting.

Ralph Pulitzer: Born June 11th, 1879. Died June 14th, 1939. He was born in St. Louis because Pulitzer hadn't bought The New York World and moved the family to New York at this point.

All the kids seem to have been sickly (like their father) but Ralph was asthmatic and small for his age, his health was always a concern. The family would spend a lot of time in Europe but he and Lucille were the ones who usually joined their parents while the younger ones were left in America. He didn't like learning Latin (From a letter to Lucille: "I never imagined a language capable of such filthy, beastly rules and contradictions") and preferred Greek. He was educated at St. Mark's School and would've been at Harvard by the time that Newsies happened.

All the sons were a bit detached from the realities of how newspapers worked because they were raised in mansions and boarding schools but Pulitzer was surprised and very upset about them having limited journalistic skills. He really wanted them to be prepared to run the paper after him and they really weren't. He started to become president of The World around 1907. When Pulitzer died, he got 20% of the newspaper stock in the will. He was the main person running The World before they sold it in 1931. Ralph preferred high society life to newspapers. He married Frederica Webb who was vaguely a Vanderbilt in 1905. They had two sons, I think, and eventually divorced. He remarried and had two daughters but one died very young. He died in New York following complications to do with abdominal surgery.

Lucille Irma Pulitzer: Born September 30th, 1880. Died December 31st, 1897. She was probably also born in St. Louis but I haven't been able to find the record. Her middle name seems to come from one of Pulitzer's sisters.

She was Pulitzer's favourite, that's the key thing about her. He had very high expectations of his children and a lot of rules, and she managed to meet those expectations and didn't break those rules. She was focused on her studies, she could speak multiple languages and play multiple instruments. In Pulitzer's code-book, she's referred to as 'Lulu' instead of Lucille. Seems to have spent a lot of her younger years in Europe. When she was 14 she had a minor throat surgery and Pulitzer got upset that everyone was paying her more attention than they were him (his wife got really mad at him and he sent Lucille flowers to apologise).

I think I read about her graduating from Miss Brown's School for Young Ladies in May 1897 when she would've been 16. Summer of that year they held a party at the Chatwold (their place in Bar Harbour) to basically debut her. A couple days later, she became ill. She had Typhoid and despite the family's efforts, she died months later at the Chatwold on New Years Eve. After her death, Pulitzer established the Lucille Pulitzer Scholarship at Barnard College, which makes me think she wanted to go to college and that he would have supported this.

Katherine Ethel Pulitzer: Born January 30th, 1882. Died May 9th, 1884. Same as Lucille, probably born in St. Louis but I've never seen the records. She's the one daughter whose middle name I can't link to one of Pulitzer's family members but her first name comes from her mother. There's not much to say because she died so young. She died of Pneumonia in New York almost a year exactly (one day off) after Pulitzer purchased The World.

This is quite sad (it's already sad) but she is either omitted or forgotten in the 1900 census. They asked for the number of children born and the number of children living, at this point all 7 had been born and 5 were alive but the Pulitzers responded that 6 had been born instead. They weren't forgetting Lucille after three years, so it seems like Katherine was not counted.

Joseph Pulitzer II: Born March 21st, 1885. Died March 30th, 1955. One of the few children born in New York.

Less sickly than the others but Pulitzer was constantly disappointed by him. He was also sent to St. Mark's School. As a teenager he didn't do what his father told him to and didn't pay enough attention to his studies. He got thrown out of St. Mark's in 1901 after he and some friends snuck out to buy beer and then ended up climbing into the headmaster and his wife's bedroom when they were sneaking back in. Pulitzer was really angry about that. Pulitzer managed to get him into Harvard but he just kept being the same as he was before so Pulitzer pulled him out of Harvard.

He got sent to St. Louis to be trained by the people Pulitzer had at the Post-Dispatch and actually developed journalistic talent. His father could not see this talent and was still disappointed in him. He only got 10% of the newspaper stock when his dad died. He ran the Post-Dispatch far better than his brothers ran The World. He tried to punch Hearst which is just really funny to me. He married Elinor Wickham in 1910, she died in 1925 and a year later he married Elizabeth Edgar. He had similar health problems to his father towards the end of his life and after he died, the Post-Dispatch passed to his son, Joseph Pulitzer III, it stayed in the family's hands until very recently (either the 90s or the 00s) but there was a legal battle about whether to sell it in the 80s.

Edith Louise Pulitzer: Born June 19th, 1886. Died April 6th, 1975. She was born in Lenox, Massachusetts. Her middle name seems to come from Pulitzer's mother.

Pulitzer was not that interested in his younger daughters but he still had high expectations for them. When she was younger and her parents travelled to Europe, she seems to have been left in America more than her older siblings but later on she seems to have been just following her mother around to wherever she went. She was 13 when the Pulitzer house fire happened in January 1900. Morris mentions an incident where she got upset at her father for constantly criticising her and the two of them had a bit of an argument. She was sent to Miss Vinton’s School for Girls in Connecticut.

She married William Scoville Moore a couple weeks after her father died, I think I read that they had to have a pretty boring, scaled back wedding because, officially, she and her mother were still in mourning. They had five sons. William died in 1944 and then two of their sons died in 1944 and 1945 fighting in the war. Another son died in 1957. She lived the longest out of all of the children, and 1975 feels so strangely recent for a child of Joseph Pulitzer to have been alive then. She and Constance both got the same amount in the will and it was obviously a lot of stuff but I think she might've tried to claim that it wasn't enough and that her father wasn't in his right mind when he made the will.

Constance Helen Pulitzer: Born December 13th, 1888. Died July 14th, 1938. She was born in France, probably Paris, because the family (Joseph, his wife and the eldest two children) were in Europe looking for advice on his worsening health when she was born. According to census responses from the early 20th century, her first language was French while all her siblings' had been English. Her middle name seems to come from another one of Pulitzer's sisters.

Pulitzer did not see her for very extended periods of time in her early childhood. She was also at home when the Pulitzer house fire happened, she was 11 at the time. Once, when Pulitzer was away from home, he only received a letter from Constance and told his wife to tell the other children he didn't love them (that's a quote, "To all the rest of the children you can say I do not love them"). She also followed her mother around Europe a bit when she got older. She debuted in 1907.

In 1913 she married William Grey Elmslie who had been her younger brother's tutor. The family expressed their support for the marriage but I think only Edith was actually present. Oh, this is Newsies relevant: she and Edith shared a property in Santa Fe. She died at 49 which is young even by Pulitzer family standards and makes her the first child to die in adulthood but I can't find a cause of death so I don't know what went on there.

Herbert Pulitzer: Born November 20th, 1896. Died September 4th, 1957. He was born in New York. I see him get called Tony a lot, he might've had a middle name that gets forgotten.

This is a twist you're not expecting: he may have not actually been Pulitzer's son. There's (significant) evidence that Kate was having an affair with Arthur Brisbane when she got pregnant with Herbert and it's definitely possible that Arthur was Herbert's father. He was born a long time after Constance considering that the first 6 children were born within 10 years of each other. And if you look at pictures of Pulitzer and his older sons at around the same age, they look very similar - I don't think Herbert looked that much like him but he does kinda look like Arthur. We can't really know but I do think it's very, very possible. Pulitzer never doubted that Herbert was his, and he seems to have been the favourite of his sons since he got 60% of the newspaper stock. He briefly ran The World in the years before it was sold but apparently people who worked there didn't like him. He was very young when the Pulitzer house fire happened and Kate had to go back inside to save him.

I'm less certain about details in Herbert's life than the other children, I'm not sure why I know less about him but I do. He was the only child at his father's deathbed, when he was only a teenager. He learnt to fly and fought at the end of WW1. Married Gladys Munn in 1926 and they had two children together. Their son, also called Herbert, led a messy life (highly publicised divorce). Herbert died of uremic poisoning, which is described "urine in the blood" and, yeah, that's the note this post is going out on.

Again, it's possible I've made mistakes or forgotten stuff here. I also can't stress enough how much information James McGrath Morris' book has provided this post.

#while factchecking this post i found a new funfact #pulitzer sent ralph for an examination at a hospital in my home city (birmingam uk) thats so cool for me and no one else #katherine plumber pulitzer my beloved #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #joseph pulitzer #newsies #mercury posting

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sunshine-gumdrop · 4 days

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Guess which team I support!

I saw the post about complimenting other teams, so here's mine!

Anaheim Ducks: Still ducks, but at least they’re not waddling anymore. Slowly growing those wings.

Arizona Coyotes: At least they have a loyal fan base, even if it fits inside a Starbucks.

Boston Bruins: Great season, but that playoff curse is harder to shake than Brad Marchand’s chirping.

Buffalo Sabres: Always the underdog, but hey, they're like the Oilers pre-McDavid—on the rise, baby!

Calgary Flames: Flames? It's more like a flicker compared to the Oilers' firepower. It’s OK, Alberta’s still ours.

Carolina Hurricanes: Fast, sure, but they’ve got nothing on McDavid’s warp speed.

Chicago Blackhawks: Bedard is fun, but we’ll remind you that it takes more than one superstar to rival our McDavid and Draisaitl.

Colorado Avalanche: Mackinnon’s great, no doubt, but if McDavid turned up the speed any higher, Nate might need a head start... and a jetpack.

Columbus Blue Jackets: At least they’ve got the coolest name in the league... and, um, yeah, that’s it.

Dallas Stars: Stars may shine, but our Oilers are burning brighter. Yee-haw!

Detroit Red Wings: Historic? Sure. But our present is more exciting, don’t you think?

Edmonton Oilers: We’ve got McDavid, Draisaitl, and enough offensive firepower to make the league tremble. No bias here, just facts.

Florida Panthers: Sure, you had your Cinderella run, but your glass slipper cracked—better luck next time.

Los Angeles Kings: Kings? More like court jesters when McDavid’s on the ice. But hey, we appreciate the entertainment!

Minnesota Wild: A solid team with strong defense, but they sure aren’t ready to face our playoff onslaught.

Montreal Canadiens: Young team, lots of history, but it’ll be another century before you catch our firepower.

Nashville Predators: Cool jerseys, great fans, but you’ll need a lot more to take down the Oil.

New Jersey Devils: Fast and flashy, but McDavid could still skate circles around them blindfolded.

New York Islanders: Defensive wizards, but offense wins games. You’ve seen our highlight reels, right?

New York Rangers: Great in theory, but let’s be honest—nobody’s pulling the spotlight away from Edmonton.

Ottawa Senators: Keep rebuilding, maybe by the time McDavid retires, you’ll be playoff-ready.

Philadelphia Flyers: The Broad Street Bullies are more like baby bulls next to the Oilers’ charging offense.

Pittsburgh Penguins: Old guard, meet the new era. Your time was great, but it’s McDavid’s league now.

San Jose Sharks: Shark Tank? More like a kiddie pool.

Seattle Kraken: Second season was fun, but Edmonton’s got a dynasty in the making—good luck keeping up.

St. Louis Blues: Still riding that 2019 wave, but the tides have shifted north.

Tampa Bay Lightning: The storm’s fading, Tampa. There’s a new powerhouse in town—guess who?

Toronto Maple Leafs: Sure, you have history and a massive fan base, but when was the last time you outscored the Oilers?

Vancouver Canucks: At least the jerseys are nice, right? Yeah, we’re taking that playoff spot.

Vegas Golden Knights: Congrats on the Cup, but let’s be real, you had to avoid us to get it.

Washington Capitals: Ovechkin’s a beast, but nothing out there scares our Oilers’ scoring squad.

Winnipeg Jets: Close neighbors, but we’re the big brothers on this block, and it shows every game.

I couldn't tag dallas and Detroit...

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scotianostra · 11 months

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November 13th 1850 saw the birth of Robert Louis Stevenson in Edinburgh.

As the author of such classics as Treasure Island, Kidnapped and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Stevenson is known the world over, instead of reeling off the usual facts about the life of the man I thought I would dig up some facts that are not so well known.

When Stevenson first wrote Treasure Island, he submitted his stories under nom-de-plume of Captain George North to a children's periodical called Young Folks.

He may have invented the sleeping bag; according to the Stevenson House website: "R.L.S. has a good claim to be the inventor of the Sleeping Bag, taking a large fleece-lined sack with him to sleep in on the journey through France described in his book Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes." For the record, his six-foot square sleeping sack was made of "green waterproof cart-cloth without and blue sheep's fur within".

Stevenson collected corselets (a sort of protective girdle) and was particularly proud of his ones from the Gilbert Island, which were designed to offer effective protection against sharks’ teeth weapons, throwing spears and European knives and bayonets. They were made of coconut fibre and decorated with human hair. They were given to him by King Tembinoka, the Tyrant of the Island of Apemama.

He had wooden teeth, when he was living in America in 1878 and pursuing the unhappily married Fanny Vandegrift Osbourne - a woman 11 years his senior - Stevenson lived in San Francisco's Chinatown. He was lonely and in poor health and while in Tubbs Hotel he had trouble with a bleeding mouth and rotten teeth. A local dentist removed all his teeth and fitted him with false wooden replacements. He married Fanny shortly afterwards.

As well as a writer, he was also a keen musician and composer, Stevenson played the piano and flageolet and wrote more than 100 original musical compositions and arrangements, including solos, duets, trios and quartet. His works include ten songs written to his own poetry.

He burnt the first draft of Jekyll & Hyde, the story was promoted by a dream he had while in Bournemouth of a "fine bogey tale", was written around the same time as Kidnapped and was partly based on Deacon Brodie, the 18th-century Edinburgh cabinetmaker. His wife Fanny complained that he had not made the allegory strong enough and he tossed the 30,000 word manuscript into the fire. Then in "a white heat", using a quill pen and ink pot, he stayed in bed for three days and wrote a new version. He would later claim that it was the worst thing he ever wrote but The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sold 40,000 copies in its first six months on sale in 1886.

Long John Silver stayed at the Royal Infirmary. Treasure Island character Long John Silver was based on poet WE Henley, who RLS frequently visited at the Royal Infirmary. Henley suffered from tuberculosis of the bone and acquired a wooden leg after having his left leg amputated in 1868.

He left a number of books unfinished before his untimely death in Samoa on December 3rd 1894. Reports at the time said he had died of "apoplexy" due to the heat. It was also described as a stroke and a cerebral haemorrhage brought on by straining to opening a jar of mayonnaise. Or a bottle of wine. No one is sure. He was only 44.

Stevenson was buried in a grand ceremony on Mount Vaea, Upolu and his tomb is inscribed with the words: “Home is the sailor, home from the sea,/And the hunter home from the hill.” On the day he died he had been dictating words for his unfinished novel The Chief Justice's Clerk. He also left behind an uncompleted novel called St Ives (the story of a French prisoner who made his escape from Edinburgh Castle), The Young Chevalier, Heathercat and Weir of Hermiston.

Stevenson wrote his own inscription on his grave, the full verse reads...

Under the wide and starry sky,

Dig the grave and let me lie.

Glad did I live and gladly die

,And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:

Here he lies where he longed to be;

Home is the sailor, home from sea,

And the hunter home from the hill.

#scotland #scottish #history #edinburgh #literature #Makar #Poet #Writer

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annieqattheperipheral · 11 months

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tw: death, funeral

Beautiful article on Adam Johnson's Celebration of Life, includes those from the hockey world who attended and their shared words:

- - -

HIBBING, Minn. — In a small, hard-working town of 16,000 in Minnesota’s Iron Range, where there are streets named after Bob Dylan and there’s a sense of pride at having also produced MLB legend Roger Maris and Basketball Hall of Famer Kevin McHale, there is — and was — only one “Adam.”

“If you said the name ‘Adam’ in Hibbing, everybody knew that meant Adam Johnson,” said Scott Pionk, the father of Winnipeg Jets defenseman Neal Pionk and Wild draft pick and University of Minnesota-Duluth freshman Aaron Pionk. “Like LeBron, he needed only one name: Adam.”

Jim Perunovich, the father of St. Louis Blues defenseman Scott Perunovich, agreed: “Cher. Bono. Everyone knows who Adam is.”

That’s why on a chilly, wet Monday afternoon, some 3,000 people filled the Hibbing Memorial Arena, which was originally built during the Great Depression and stands three blocks from Adam’s old high school, to pay their respects and offer an outpouring of love and support to the friends and family who are reeling right now. Nine days earlier, Hibbing’s “Adam” died at 29 years old playing the sport he loved, cut by a skate blade across the neck while playing professionally in England.

The Nottingham Panthers on Saturday conducted their own memorial, at Motorpoint Arena, where assistant coach Kevin Moore said Panthers fans had immediately taken to Adam — “our best player” – and will “wear his No. 47 in their hearts forever.”

Then on Sunday, Nottingham Forest football player and Panthers fanatic Orel Johnson Mangala scored in the 47th minute of a Premier League victory over Aston Villa — while fans were paying tribute to Adam with a one-minute ovation. Hours later, Matthew Thiessen, the goalie for Adam’s alma mater, University of Minnesota-Duluth, made a career-best 47 saves in a 3-3 tie with cross-state rival University of Minnesota.

On Monday in Hibbing, scores of people walked into the lobby of the arena and were greeted by a picture of Adam flashing his joyful and infectious smile.

There was a condolence book and there were pictures of him as a baby and young boy running around or skating with his older brother, Ryan. There were pictures of Adam excelling with a hockey stick and tennis racket in his hand. There were pictures of him playing with his young nephew and niece and kissing his fiancée, Ryan Wolfe, a St. Francis native who he fell in love with instantly and planned to buy a farm or coffee shop with.

Seeing so many pictures of a happy Adam and hearing the memories of him was a great reminder that Adam is not just a name, not just a stranger causing so many other strangers to argue on social media about how and why he died. And the term “neck guard” wasn’t uttered once Monday, even though Adam’s death may end up causing a lot of good in the game as college and professional hockey players are starting, one by one, to seek out neck protection.

We were reminded that Adam was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a cousin and everybody’s best friend.

“Adam truly is and always will be our hometown hero,” said former Hibbing/Chisholm Bluejackets teammate Jake Doherty, one of nearly two dozen speakers to pay homage.

The nearly two-hour service was often funny and more often profoundly sad. And fittingly, it took place on the sheet of ice where Adam used to electrify, in the building he used to fill.

Hockey runs deep in Hibbing, and Adam’s death brought this community together.

Longtime P.A. announcer Dan Marich boisterously welcomed folks into the arena intentionally because that’s the way Adam would have heard it on the ice when he was in the starting lineup. And he ended the ceremony by announcing Adam’s name like he had just scored a goal to draw a thunderous ovation from the crowd as a band did a rendition of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” – a song Adam learned to play on a guitar he saved up to buy when he was a teenager.

This was not long after the same band caused waterworks by playing one of Adam’s favorite campfire songs, the song he used to love to sing with his best friend, Neal Pionk: the Eagles’ “Peaceful Easy Feeling.”

There were so many poignant moments during the ceremony. Like when Adam’s fiancée, Ryan, read a letter she wrote for him, telling him how much she’d miss her favorite napping partner and sous chef. And when Ryan’s sister, Kylie, read a poem then talked about how her sister sneaked out of a cabin to meet Adam that first night, the same night they apparently burned down a sauna. There were Adam’s nephew, Grant, and niece, Britta, constantly running over to Adam’s fiancée and sitting on her lap because, in their eyes, she is their “auntie.”

Maybe the most gripping moment came when Adam’s old high school coach, Mark DeCenzo, choked up and struggled to even start his speech. Adam’s mourning father, former UMD captain Davey Johnson, stood up, walked down the black carpet and joined DeCenzo, putting his arm around him and helping him get through his touching words.

- - -

Friends came from far and wide.

Winnipeg Jets ownership, led by Mark Chipman, arranged for a charter to fly Neal Pionk, Alex Iafallo, Dominic Toninato and Dylan Samberg to Hibbing for Sunday’s funeral mass and Monday’s celebration. St. Louis Blues defenseman Scott Perunovich also attended both and then hitched a ride with the Jets players back to St. Louis for Tuesday’s Jets-Blues game.

Also there Sunday were Wild president and general manager Bill Guerin, who signed Adam to the Penguins in 2017; Adam’s agent, Pete Rutili; former NHLer and current player agent Neil Sheehy; and Minnesota State coach Luke Strand and Detroit Red Wings assistant coach Jay Varady, who both coached Adam for USHL Sioux City.

University of Minnesota-Duluth coach Scott Sandelin spoke at Monday’s event and brought his entire team and staff. St. Cloud State coach Brett Larson was also there, as was Hibbing High’s hockey team.

Other players seen Monday included Henderson Silver Knights captain Jake Bischoff; the Colorado Eagles’ Riley Tufte; the Bridgeport Islanders’ Karson Kuhlman; the San Diego Gulls’ Nick Wolff and his girlfriend, Sydney Brodt, who in September was drafted by the new PWHL team in Minnesota; Bruins scout Parker MacKay; and former Minnesota Mr. Hockey Avery Peterson.

“Definitely had to be here. All of us,” said Tufte, who rushed back to Colorado on Monday night for a game Tuesday. “Can’t miss this. Not for this guy. We all loved him.”

On Friday night against Ontario, one of Adam’s former teams, Tufte recorded his first professional hat trick.

“The first thing I thought about was Johns,” Tufte said. “Even the way the third one went in: off the goalie, off a defenseman’s shin and in. I know Adam pushed it in. It was insane. Something pretty special.”

Neal Pionk first became friends with Adam playing in the Minnesota high school Elite League, then at Sioux City, where they lit it up on the power play. They lived together while at UMD. Pionk said during the celebration that you knew Adam really loved you if he was unrelenting with his insults.

Pionk demonstrated their bond by repeating one of their last text messages after the Jets lost three of their first four games this season: “You’re off to an abysmal start. Pick it up.”

Said Pionk, “I’ll miss those texts every day.”

Neal’s dad, Scott, whose wife helped plan the Celebration of Life with other family friends, said his son is crushed.

“This is the first time as a young guy that he’s lost somebody that he’s really close to,” Scott said. “He’s shocked. He’s devastated.”

Scott, a close friend of Adam’s dad, first got to know Adam in ninth grade. Davey would every now and then ask Pionk to call his son to encourage him when things weren’t going well hockey-wise. Adam worked at Pionk’s hockey camps and helped him one summer at his landscaping company, so they had a bond.

“He was quiet. He liked to be alone a fair amount. And he liked to do things his own way,” Pionk said of Johnson. “He was a free spirit. I’ll put it this way: He was playfully grumpy. Because whatever you decided, he’d be like, ‘I don’t want to go there tonight.’ And then five minutes later, you’d get him in the car and he was laughing and the life of the party. So he played that role. Guys loved it.”

Adam was a terrific hockey player. He was a beautiful skater, taking after his uncle and fellow UMD alum Gary DeGrio, and ultra-skilled, especially in high school. Guerin recruited him for two years, hoping to sign him in Pittsburgh.

During development camp with the Penguins after his sophomore year of college, Adam met with Guerin and Penguins development coach Mark Recchi. They told him they loved him but to go back to school, have a great junior year and they’d be waiting to sign him after that season.

Guerin then returned to the stands. Hall of Famer and Penguins owner Mario Lemieux walked up to Guerin and asked, “Who’s that kid?”

He was pointing at Adam.

Guerin said, “That’s Adam Johnson. Beautiful skater, isn’t he? We’re going to send him back to UMD and sign him after the year.”

Lemieux said, “Well, you probably shouldn’t let him leave the building.”

Guerin responded, “Are you serious?”

Lemieux said, “Yeah, we need to sign guys like that.”

Guerin and Recchi went back downstairs, grabbed Adam when he left the ice and told him, “We understand we just told you we’re sending you back, but things have changed. Mind coming upstairs and meeting with a small group of us?”

Adam showered, changed and walked into a room. That “small group” was Guerin, Recchi, coach Mike Sullivan, CEO David Morehouse, general manager Jim Rutherford and none other than Mario Lemieux.

When Super Mario tells you he wants to sign you, you sign.

“Hey look, this kid was as hot a free agent as you could get,” Guerin said. “We just loved the way he could move, the way he skated, the way he frankly smiled. Like his teammates loved him. He fit everything we wanted. There was no B.S. to him. He was just a well-rounded, well-grounded, really good kid.”

Guerin’s voice began to crack.

“This is just such a sad story,” Guerin said. “Just so sad. Gone way too soon. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

- - -

The testimonials Monday were beautiful.

Johnson’s old Hibbing assistant coach and good friend Grant Clafton called him a “joyful grump” and said he had to be loving seeing Clafton look and feel so uncomfortable and nervous talking in front of a packed arena.

As funny as that was, he made everybody sob when talking about his broken heart that Adam and the love of his life, Ryan, wouldn’t get to create the life together they so deserved.

Sandelin always told Adam he wanted him to have the puck on his stick 90 percent of the time. He remembered his sly grin, his humility, his care for his teammates.

Moore talked about watching all of Adam’s assists this season for Nottingham and being so warmed by the selfless look and joy he had when his teammates scored.

Ebony Johnson, Adam’s sister-in-law — “not by choice,” Adam would joke — talked beautifully but also got everybody laughing when she admitted that their friendship actually began as rivals when they were each up for a third-grade fitness award.

As she remembered it, she could do more pushups than Adam.

Every speaker’s address touched on a similar theme: This was a tremendous person who also happened to be a tremendous hockey player.

As his cousin and former Hibbing teammate Michael Pechnovnik said, “Heaven’s hockey team gained a heckuva player.”

- - -

Four thousand miles away in Nottingham, Adam’s devastated and shaken Panthers teammates watched the live stream Monday.

It was proof of community, one that Nottingham’s Westin Michaud knows well.

He hails from Cloquet, Minn. — 70 miles away from Hibbing — and played with and against Adam in youth, high school, college and pro hockey.

Michaud was an eyewitness to the incident that injured and ultimately killed his friend and was at Adam’s side until the very end.

Michaud said this has been a tremendously challenging time for him and his teammates but the outpouring of love of support has been heartwarming and there’s no doubt watching Monday’s sense of community helped.

“It’s truly amazing how much hockey has impacted not only my life but also the lives of others who play the game, regardless of their skill level,” Michaud said via text. “It’s a community filled with people who genuinely care for and support each other.

“Hockey is more than just a game; it brings people together, ignites passions and provides a profound sense of purpose. Additionally, it unites communities and validates individuals as part of something greater, nurturing both a sense of belonging and purpose in life.”

Still, Monday was hard. “We’re all cried out. We’re hurting. We’re hurting really bad up here right now,” said Jim Perunovich, who was so broken up after Sunday’s mass, Adam’s mom, Sue, had to console him. “Nobody can understand it, but I guess God needed Adam more than we did.”

But what made Monday beautiful was the laughter, the celebration of Adam’s life with humor and memories, as well as music and P.A. announcements.

“That’s the way we roll up here,” Perunovich said.

There’s something special about the Iron Range, where hockey runs deep. Adam cared so much about the people here. He was proud to be from here and took a piece of Hibbing and brought it with him to the UK.

Tufte, for one, was not surprised at Hibbing’s perfectly executed celebration.

“Good ol’ Hibbing hockey community,” said Tufte, who went to high school three hours south at Blaine but attended UMD. “Can’t beat it.”

The celebration of life was live-streamed.

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months

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Umar Lee:

Before Mike Brown

Growing up in North St. Louis County, I remember a vibrant community full of churches, bars, VFW halls, Knights of Columbus, shopping malls, movie theatres, and all of the amenities working, and middle-class post-war Americans desired. To be a kid who loved sports, like me, North County offered Khoury League baseball, JFL football, little league wrestling, boxing gyms, soccer clubs, hockey clubs, basketball leagues, and much more. I played plenty of sports growing up in organized leagues (wrestling, baseball, and football); but I played more with kids in the street. When I wasn’t playing sports, I was listening to Jack Buck and Mike Shannon call Cardinals games on KMOX radio, sneaking up late at night to watch pro wrestling, reading wrestling and boxing magazines in the store because I couldn’t afford to buy them, also reading the St. Louis-based The Sporting News to keep track of stats, admiring the photos and articles in Sports Illustrated, of course reading the sports section in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch daily, and watching whatever sports were aired TV on the weekend for households without cable, topped off by sports news coverage from the likes of Jay Randolph, Ron Jacober, and Art Holliday on Channel 5.

Yet, while all of this was going on, which has left me with a life of fond memories, the North County, and my personal story, isn’t complete without looking at other events. The sports sections of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch discussed Whiteyball, our loss of Big Red football, almost losing the Blues to Canada, and the Steamers; but the news and businesses pages were far bleaker. St. Louis had then, and has now, one of the highest rates of violent crime in America, political dysfunction and corruption, and countless municipal fiefdoms. These pages also contained news of factory closings and job losses. Like Michigan, Pennsylvania, northeast Ohio, and other parts of the Rust Belt; working-class St. Louisans were reeling from job losses. North County was built up and populated by factory workers and those in the building trades, the small houses were built for guys like my dad who left high school and walked right onto an assembly line, and when those factories close, and the builders stop building, the economic conditions that underpin the health of families and communities erode. When Combustion Engineering in North St. Louis laid off my dad, uncle, and other relatives in the 80s, it hit like a micro version of the Great Depression. The saving grace would come years later when my dad joined my grandpa at GM, which had moved from North City to St. Charles County, skipping North County in the process, and my uncle getting rewarded for his service loading dead and wounded American bodies into helicopters in Vietnam by getting hired at the federal records center in Overland.

Beneath the changing economic conditions was the issue that defines St. Louis, and in particular, North County. Race. North County was largely farmland before World War II with a sprinkling of small towns mixed in. Old Town Florissant and Sacred Heart Parish in an example of historic North County which was a community of French and German Catholics who later welcomed and embraced Irish and Italian Catholics. Like south St. Louis City, places like Ferguson and Florissant, bonded together at church, in labor unions, and in neighborhoods. The problem is that these tended to be nearly exclusively white, and as the Black population of North City spilled into North County in large numbers beginning in the 1970s, this began to create tension. As a reference point, my dad graduated from Riverview Gardens in 1970 when the first Black student enrolled, today the school is virtually 100% Black. After splitting with my dad, my mother, who lived in North City and North County with us as small kids, took my biracial younger half-siblings to be raised in the Shaw and Dutchtown neighborhoods of South City, because she deemed the Riverview Gardens schools to be too white and racist. I stayed in Black Jack and then Florissant along with my older sisters, dad, stepmom, and grandparents.

As economic conditions became unstable in North County, white families began moving out to St. Charles County, and Black families began settling in areas that had previously been all-white, the existing white establishment relied on police departments, most of them either all-white or close to it, to act as a buffer zone. This frequently was manifested in traffic stops with places like Jennings being the worst. White residents of North County feared crime rates would soon mirror those in north city, and these fears were only heightened after high-profile crimes such as the 1982 kidnapping and murders of Gary and Donna Decker in Bellefontaine Neighbors, the stabbing death of McCluer North student and football player Dan Mckeon (brother of two professional soccer players) at a 1987 party in Florissant, the rape and murders of the Kerry sisters in 1991 at the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge, and the rape and murder of freshman student Christine Smetzer by a fellow student in a McCluer North bathroom in 1995.

Meanwhile, Black families arriving in north county for better schools, safer communities, and more amenities, after generations of legalized housing segregation in St. Louis City and County, often faced the brunt force of aggressive north county policing. Instead of harassing criminals and reducing crime, police departments in north county were often harassing students and law-abiding citizens coming home from work, church, or a night out. Before body cameras and smart phones these police interactions often included profane and racially abusive language and frequently beatings. This created a climate of distrust and anger in the Black community in North County. Crime was going up, but police were harassing law-abiding citizens instead of stopping criminals, and Black residents were also disproportionately victims of crimes that received far less media attention. As the racial composition of North County municipalities changed to majority-Black, voter turnout remained higher among longtime and typically older white residents. This meant that the numerous city halls and police departments in places like Ferguson remained nearly all-white even as whites became a minority in those communities.

In 2014, North County was a powder keg waiting to erupt. All it needed was a spark. That’s why I began writing about north county in my Evening-Whirl column and for the Huffington Post. No one was talking about North County and it was ready to explode. Local media focused on stories about bike lanes, hipster neighborhoods, and business as usual. Months before August 9th, I told Paul Fehler, of the Pruitt-Igoe Myth and political fame, that if there was a riot and civil unrest in St. Louis it would be in North County. A week before August 9th, with future mayoral candidate Cara Spencer watching, I had a heated argument with legislative aide Michael Powers at The Royale because he said I talked about problems in North County too much. Everything in the County is fine, I was told, all focus must be on the city.

Then it happened. Mike Brown Jr., a recent graduate of Normandy High School, walked to an immigrant-owned and ran store with a friend (most such stores in the Black communities of St. Louis are owned by Palestinian Muslims), there was an altercation, but nothing out of the ordinary for a St. Louis hood store, and as he walked through the apartments and onto Canfield at the edge of Ferguson, he met up with Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson. The encounter was fatal and almost certainly avoidable. Ferguson immediately handled the situation in a reckless and insensitive manner. Allowing the dead body of Mike Brown to lay in the streets for hours, and bringing out police dogs to intimidate family members, neighbors, friends, and those brought out by social media posts and discussions on Black radio. What happened that day, we’ll probably never know the entire truth. What we do know is what happened on August 9th of 2014 permanently changed St. Louis and America.

My Time in Ferguson

People have to remember that what became known as the Ferguson Uprising was not something that was instigated by academics, leftist political organizations and organizers, out of town celebrity activists, intersectional dogmatists, or people with college degrees. The anger at the death of Mike Brown came from the neighborhood. A neighborhood ranging from lower middle-class to generational poverty. People struggling and hustling just to stay above water. The community came out August 9th, but the uprising began August 10th and that was a day when an older generation of pastors, community leaders, and politicians were largely pushed aside, by a younger generation seeking an immediate redress to their grievances. It was leaderless and often without direction. Purely organic and there was a beautiful sense of community in the early days. Elders such as Anthony Bell attempted to provide direction (Bell setting up voter registration tables); but the situation was too fluid and beyond the capabilities of individual organizers.

[...]

From the beginning, I sought to use whatever platform I had to highlight the history of North County and attempt to tell a story of how we arrived at this moment. Having said that, like everyone else, I was caught up in the drama and passion of the Ferguson moment. I made videos, wrote some articles, cowrote a few pieces with Sarah Kendzior, and appeared on many local, national, and international news outlets (Al Jazeera links aren’t working). I was also arrested twice in Ferguson, threatened with arrest many more times, received numerous and graphic death threats, sparred with police supporters, lost my cool, provoked, was provoked, and finally lost my job and shortly thereafter my apartment (and in the middle of all of this, my grandma died and I was in a messy relationship). If you look at photos I didn't have grey hair before Ferguson. A few months later I was buying Just For Men.

I found a way to piss off police supporters and get under their skin, as did guys like Bassem Masri. In my estimation, the reasons for that are twofold. Firstly, we both grew-up in north county, so many of the people responsible for targeting and doxxing us were those we either grew-up with or went to school with. I saw lifelong friendships created in the Ferguson-Florissant School District end over Facebook posts during the Ferguson Unrest. This was mostly along racial lines. Secondly, unlike most activists, or those you see on Ivy League campuses today, we didn't talk and sound like spoiled brats, smart alecky rich kids who'd have to go to therapy for decades after one physical altercation. We'd been in plenty of fistfights, street brawls, and I'd been shot at and stabbed. Twitter trolls, insults, and radio talkshow hosts like Mark Reardon and Bob Romanik weren't gonna hurt my feelings.

[...]

Trump and The 2020 Sham

For the sake of time, and if anyone is still here, I'll fast forward to 2020. I've already previously stated, and Sarah Kendzior noted this in her book discussing St. Louis, that I believe Ferguson is partially responsible for electing Donald Trump as president. As in 1968, when Richard Nixon promised law and order, I knew conditions were ripe for a populist right-wing politician promising to restore law and order. No one saw COVID-19 coming, the shutdowns, the summer of massive protests after the murder of George Floyd, and the crazy presidential election. Four years later, I think we're still all trying to make sense of it.

While I fully embraced vaccines, and I'm happy I'm vaxxed, and I supported shutdowns at the time, I think it's pretty clear they did more harm than good. Most harmed were our children- particularly poor and working-class kids, who fell behind due to the virtual learning sham, and never caught up. I was at the Dallas campaign event where Biden was endorsed by multiple presidential candidates, thus virtually sealing the nomination. The South Side Ballroom was so packed, that I could barely move or breath, and couldn't get in a position to take a good photo, despite being relatively close to Biden. The next week it was too dangerous to publicly campaign, Biden stayed at home, and we elected an elderly man who was not up to the job but has generally been good in office both for American workers and our international allies. Mainstream media, so eager to defeat Trump, played along. Oh, the viable Democratic alternative was another elderly gentleman who honeymooned in the Soviet Union. It was not a year of good choices, but Biden was the best in my estimation.

[...]

The Aftermath: Where We Stand

Where are we today? A decade later, are we in a better place? North County is still in a state of serious decline and seems to be getting worse each year, North City is doing even worse, the population of both St. Louis City and County is declining, and many are opting for more prosperous communities, most notably Texas and Georgia suburbs (both reddish states). Violent crime spiked for a period, the decline in traffic enforcement has made driving and walking our streets far less safe and often deadly, and area police have essentially stopped policing. They don't want to be stars in a viral video or become a hashtag. For many cops, if they couldn't do things the old school way, they aren’t gonna do it at all. This has made our communities more dangerous, less livable for the most vulnerable, and places few people want to live in. This is a negative consequence from the lack of a strategic plan after Ferguson and failures on both the parts of law-enforcement and the community to hear one another.

The good news is that St. Louis now has better prosecutors (Wesley Bell and Gabe Gore) who are committed to public safety, holding those accountable who harm our community, and enacting diversion programs and other positive post-Ferguson reforms. St. Louis has a mayor in Tishaura Jones who wasn't created in a lab by white progressives; but is a genuine leader, reared and educated locally. Without Ferguson, I'm doubtful Mayor Jones would've been elected, nor a new generation of leaders such as Adam Layne and Marty Murray.

So, it must be recognized, that while there have been some unintended negative consequences from Ferguson, there are also positive developments. These aren't just political. What inspires me isn't politics. I'm inspired by faith leaders in our community who took the Ferguson moment and began having serious conversations with their congregations. Fathers and mothers who began having difficult conversations at home with their sons and daughters. Teachers who began listening to their students. Old classmates who reached out to one another to have a beer and talk across the racial divide. Our increased racially diverse families and suburbs who are defying our political discourse on both sides as progressives have adopted a rigid and dogmatic Race Science and MAGA is doubling down on Nativism and Majoritarian racial grievances. By our faithful and intact immigrant families providing needed life to a region desperately in need.

@Umar Lee wrote a solid perspective on the 10-year anniversary of the killing of Mike Brown in Ferguson and North County from a North County POV. #Ferguson

Read the full story at Umar Lee's Substack.

#Ferguson #Ferguson Uprising #Ferguson Protests #Ferguson Missouri #Mike Brown #Darren Wilson #Murder of Mike Brown #St. Louis County Missouri #Missouri #Black Lives Matter #Umar Lee

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celtfather · 5 months

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Irish Shadows #658

Step out of the shadows and listen to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast #658. Subscribe now!

Maggie’s Wake. Keltricity, Altan, Dancing With Hobbits, Tarren, Michael Darcy & The Atlantic Tramps, Telenn Tri, The BorderCollies, The Langer's Ball, Ironwood, Nick Metcalf, The Changing Room, Jimmy & Scots Folk Band, Karan Casey, Jigjam, Kinnfolk

GET CELTIC MUSIC NEWS IN YOUR INBOX

The Celtic Music Magazine is a quick and easy way to plug yourself into more great Celtic culture. Enjoy seven weekly news items for Celtic music and culture online. Subscribe now and get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free.

VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20 FOR 2024

This is our way of finding the best songs and artists each year. You can vote for as many songs and tunes that inspire you in each episode. Your vote helps me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2024 episode. You have just three weeks to vote this year. Vote Now!

You can follow our playlist on Spotify to listen to those top voted tracks as they are added every 2 - 3 weeks. It also makes it easier for you to add these artists to your own playlists. You can also check out our Irish & Celtic Music Videos.

THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

0:06 - Maggie’s Wake "Into The Shadows" from Maggie’s Wake

2:42 - WELCOME

4:15 - Keltricity "Sand Island - Maggie in the Rain - Steady On" from Live at Terra Firma Radio

7:57 - Altan "Liostáil mé le Sáirsint (Song)" from Donegal

11:03 - Dancing With Hobbits "Hobbit Polka" from Dancing With Hobbits

14:14 - Tarren "You to Me" from Revel

20:11 - FEEDBACK

23:00 - Michael Darcy & The Atlantic Tramps "Wild Rover No More" from Down to the Roots

25:52 - Telenn Tri "Weasel's Revenge set" from The Cat's Meow

31:25 - The BorderCollies "Twa Corbies" from To the Hills and Back

34:58 - The Langer's Ball "Air: Bygone Days" from Appetite for Tradition

36:58 - Ironwood "Selkie Song" from Gretna Green

40:10 - THANKS

41:54 - Nick Metcalf "Walls of Liscarrol / Christy Barry's Set" from Skyline of Skye

45:49 - The Changing Room "Delyow Sevi" from Picking Up The Pieces

47:52 - Jimmy & Scots Folk Band "HIGH KING'S REEL" from The Viking Irishman

50:02 - Karan Casey "By and By" from Nine Apples of Gold

54:30 - Jigjam "John D. McGurk's (The Heartbeat of St. Louis)" from Across The Pond

57:56 - CLOSING

58:45 - Kinnfolk "Loch Lomond" from The Knotted Circle

1:02:03 - CREDITS

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather and our Patrons on Patreon. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. Visit our website to follow the show. You’ll find links to all of the artists played in this episode.

Todd Wiley is the editor of the Celtic Music Magazine. Subscribe to get 34 Celtic MP3s for Free. Plus, you’ll get 7 weekly news items about what’s happening with Celtic music and culture online. Best of all, you will connect with your Celtic heritage.

Please tell one friend about this podcast. Word of mouth is the absolute best way to support any creative endeavor.

Finally, remember. Reduce, reuse, recycle, and think about how you can make a positive impact on your environment.

Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

WELCOME THE IRISH & CELTIC MUSIC PODCAST

* Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. I am Marc Gunn.

This podcast is for fans of Celtic music. Not just the big names you’ve probably heard of. But also the Celtic bands in your neck of the woods, at your festivals.

It is here to build a diverse Celtic community and help the incredible artists who so generously share their music with you. If you hear music you love, please email artists to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast. Musicians depend on your generosity to keep making music. So please find a way to support them. Buy a CD, Album Pin, Shirt, Digital Download, or join their communities on Patreon.

You can find a link to all of the artists in the shownotes, along with show times, when you visit our website at celticmusicpodcast.com.

Did you know that Patreon has an app?

It’s one of the easiest ways to listen to the podcast and also to vote in the Celtic Top 20.

If you are a Celtic musician or in a Celtic band, then please submit your band to be played on the podcast. You don’t have to send in music or an EPK. You will get a free eBook called Celtic Musicians Guide to Digital Music and learn how to follow the podcast. It’s 100% free. Just email Email follow@bestcelticmusic and of course, listeners can learn how to subscribe to the podcast and get a free music - only episode.

THANK YOU PATRONS OF THE PODCAST!

You are amazing. It is because of your generosity that you get to hear so much great Celtic music each and every week.

Your kindness pays for our engineer, graphic designer, Celtic Music Magazine editor, promotion of the podcast, and allows me to buy the music I play here. It also pays for my time creating the show each and every week.

As a patron, you get ad - free and music - only episodes before regular listeners, vote in the Celtic Top 20, stand - alone stories, you get a private feed to listen to the show or you can listen through the Patreon app. All that for as little as $1 per episode.

HERE IS YOUR THREE STEP PLAN TO SUPPORT THE PODCAST

Go to our Patreon page.

Decide how much you want to pledge every week, $1, $5, $25. Make sure to cap how much you want to spend per month.

Keep listening to the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast to celebrate Celtic culture through music.

You can become a generous Patron of the Podcast on Patreon at SongHenge.com.

TRAVEL WITH CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS

Every year, I take a small group of Celtic music fans on the relaxing adventure of a lifetime. We don't see everything. Instead, we stay in one area. We get to know the region through its culture, history, and legends. You can join us with an auditory and visual adventure through podcasts and videos. Learn more about the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/

#celticmusic #irishmusic #celticmusicpodcast

I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? Please email me. I’d love to see a picture of what you're doing while listening or of a band that you saw recently.

Email me at follow@bestcelticmusic.

Mary Beth Carty emailed a photo: "Hi Marc,

Here is a pic of myself (accordion), my sister Lilly Cart (bodrhan), and my 3rd cousin Heather MacIsaac performing a concert of Irish songs and tunes at the Antigonish Heritage Museum, the former train station in my hometown. The acoustics are great in this space and there was a full crowd. Volunteers from the Heritage Association provided tea, juice, and snacks for the attendees. We did a number of sing - alongs and there were lots of moments when the crowd joined us on beautiful choruses. A great time! "

James OConnor emailed a photo: "Hi Marc Here is a pic with Jim O’Connor and Jim Chetz Keegan of Boston Blackthorne backstage at the beautiful Colony Theatre in Woodstock NY with the Dublin City Ramblers. We opened the show for the Ramblers who sounded fantastic and were incredibly gracious to us."

Jeffrey McCafferty emailed: "We had a record day in pittsburgh…America’s Grand St Patrick’s Day powered by the Pittsburgh Penguins…featuring 500,000 spectators, FNB’s St.Patrick’s Family Fair in the Square, 200 entries with 20,000 participants, great weather, 20 bands"

Virginia Davis emailed: "Hi Marc - Happy Birthday! I’m super - swamped today and maybe tomorrow, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible! We actually have a new CD I need to get over to you - thanks! "

Betty Collette emailed a shirt picture: "Hi Marc - I was sewing pillows, cooking corned beef dinner, baking blueberry scones, and listening to Irish music. Here's my newest tshirt of The High Kings. We recently were lucky to see them nearby in Tomball, Texas!

Happy St. Patrick's Day and Happy Birthday, too!! "

Check out this episode!

#celtic #Irish #Scottish #music #Ireland #Scotland

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queermtl · 10 months

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QUEER MTL THINGS TO DO: December 2023

As the year comes to an end, Montréal’s LGBTQ+ community gathers together. This month, Montréal is stuffed to the brim with events, parties and unique experiences painted in all the colours of the LGBTQ+ rainbow. From drag to community, circuit to underground, here’s some of our picks for the best LGBTQ+ things to do in the city. For further announcements, including those not announced at time of publication, follow QueerMTL on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr! Got an event coming up? DM it our way!

En français : https://www.mtl.org/fr/experience/queer-mtl-quoi-faire

LEGEND

🎥 Cinema 👑 Drag 🥳 Parties 🎶 Concert ✊ Activism 🏳️‍⚧️ Trans 🏳️‍🌈 Community 😆 Comedy 🎭 Performance 💪 Sports and Dance 👯‍♀️ Dance 🎤 Karaoke 🎨 Arts 📚 Literary / Educational 👠 Ballroom / Vogue

Vendredi 1 décembre / Friday, December 1

🎥 VisualAIDS and Concordia Queer Film Club presents Day With(out) Art: Everyone I Know is Sick film screening with Carlos Soriano, Concordia University

🏳️‍🌈 Ellelui presents Holiday Night Market, La Sala Rossa

🥳 Butt Buddies Montréal, Cabaret Berlin

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

🎶 Jonas Brothers with Lawrence, Centre Bell

🥳 Bisous’ 1 Year Anniversary with Afem Syko, Bittercaress, K657, Esme, Lapa XII, Casa Kobrae, Meen Moreen and Mic Rob, Venue TBA

🥳 The Item Number, A Queer South Asian and Diaspora Dance Party with DJ Deep, Notre Dame des Quilles

💪 From the Ground Up: Strength Training for Newbs, Punks and Weirdos with Nadine Forde runs November 18-December 2, 2023, StudioEd

🤠 Club Bolo—Danse Country Montréal meet on Fridays at the Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud

Samedi 2 décembre / Saturday, December 2

🥳 Love Dumpster with Vicki Powell, Taylor & Twan, Cabaret Berlin

🥳 Queer Cuffing SZN with DJ Simulat3human, Notre Dame des Quilles

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Jimmy Moore does Mariah Carey: Merry Christmas & All the Hits, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Ciathanight, Crystal Starz or Emma Déjàvu in rotation, Bar Le Cocktail

🥳 HOMOHOP and Super Taste presents West End Gays [Vol. 5], Riverside St-Henri

🎤 Bareoke: Strip Karaoke, Café Cléopatra

😆 Roast France vs Québec with Beurguy and Kathy-Ann Giguère, Café Tuyo

🥳 Homegrown Harvest with Noncompliant, anabasine, Hellgrammite, Jade and Fantasy, Venue TBA

🥳 Céline est very amazing with DJ Phillippe, Ausgang Plaza

📚 Expozine 2023, 1025 rue Bélanger

🥳 Comité Queer Pointe-Saint-Charles hosts Queer Party sur Glace, 1050 rue d’Hibernia

👑 Jackbox Games with Uma Gahd and Selma Gahd, Bar Le Cocktail

💪 Rollerville MTL hosts the Rollerville's Roll Out—Roller Disco, Arena St-Louis

💪 From the Ground Up: Strength Training for Newbs, Punks and Weirdos with Nadine Forde runs November 18-December 2, 2023, StudioEd

👯 Tango/Salsa Queer holds lessons every Saturday, visit queertangomtl.com for information or contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

Dimanche 3 décembre / Sunday, December 3

👑 Bingo du Temps des Fêtes, Cabaret Mado

🎭 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Kiara, Bobépine, Pétula Claque and Kitana, Cabaret Mado

📚 Expozine 2023, 1025 rue Bélanger

Lundi 4 décembre / Monday, December 4

🏳️‍🌈 Queer Slow Dating, Bar MINĒRAL

🎥 Cinema Politica Concordia presents Queer Cinema for Palestine, Cinema Politics Concordia

📚 Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Mardi 5 décembre / Tuesday, December 5

🎥 REEL GAY screens The Twilight Saga: Eclipse, Diving Bell Social Club

👑 Full Gisèle : Full Céline with Gisèle Lullaby, Nana, Bobépine, Crystal Stars and Crystal Slippers, Cabaret Mado

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

Mercredi 6 décembre / Wednesday, December 6

👑 Lé-gen-daires with Nicky Doll, Keoina and Sara Forever, Cabaret Mado

💪 Soirée Queer, Horizon Roc

🎨 HommeHomo presents Drink & Draw, Bar Le Cocktail

🎨 Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Jeudi 7 décembre / Thursday, December 7

👑 Armado with Pétula Claque, Laura Zepam, Vera Satile, Daya Rita, Paulette Pantoute, Bixi Bareback and Twinkerbell, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Canada’s Drag Race Season 4 Viewing Party with Uma Gahd, Bar Le Cocktail

🎶 Pierre Lapointe, Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier, Place des Arts

📚 Violet Hour presents Celebrating RM Vaughan and the launch of his final novel Purvatory, Stock Bar

👑 BMP DRAG Workshop and Show, BMP Co-op

Vendredi 8 décembre / Friday, December 8

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

🥳 Cerise Noire goth night with DJ Elizabeth Leslie and UN, Notre Dame des Quilles

🤠 Club Bolo—Danse Country Montréal meet on Fridays at the Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud

Samedi 9 décembre / Saturday, December 9

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Jimmy Moore does Mariah Carey: Merry Christmas & All the Hits, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Ciathanight, Crystal Starz or Emma Déjàvu in rotation, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Lady Gaga—Art Pop with Démone and Esirenna, Bar Le Cocktail

🥳 Queen & Queer—Édition Nuit Afro 2 with Ms. Baby, San Farafina and DJ Sam, La Sala Rossa

📚 The Violet Hour Book Club reads Armistead Maupin’s Michael Tolliver Lives, Archives gaies du Québec

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

👯 Tango/Salsa Queer holds lessons every Saturday, visit queertangomtl.com for information or contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

👠 Bring It! and Ballroom4Community present The Naughty List Kiki Ball, Ausgang Plaza

Dimanche 10 décembre / Sunday, December 10

🎭 La gailaxie ligue d’improvisation, Cabaret Mado

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Lady Boom Boom, Sasha Baga, Krystella Fame and Marla Deer, Cabaret Mado

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

😆 A Very Pretentious Comedy Show—One year anniversary with Eve Parker Finley, Maxime Ève Gagnon, Dan Carin, Yumi Blake, Trevor Thompson, Elie Gill, Molly Brisebois, Steve Patrick Adams, Elspeth Wright, Lauren Mallory, Florence Trépanier and Raquel Maestre, Diving Bell Social Club

Lundi 11 décembre / Monday, December 11

👑 Daisy Wood presents Le Noël de Dolly Parton with Lady Boom Boom, Prudence, Clay Thorris, Mister Daniels and Mimi Mosa, Cabaret Mado

📚 Trivia Mondays hosted by Bambi Dextrous, Diving Bell Social Club

Mardi 12 décembre / Tuesday, December 12

👑 Full Gisèle : Party de bureau with Gisèle Lullaby, Pétula Claque, Jessie Precieuse, Lady Boom Boom and Victoire de Rockwell, Cabaret Mado

👑 Garden of Shade: Christmas with Lily Shade, Sarah Winters, Prudence, Spiked Corona, Soleil Levant and Enigma, Bar Le Cocktail

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

👠 Twice a month on every second Tuesday, Bring It! hosts an OTA night of ballroom and vogue with commentator and DJ. Follow their Instagram for dates and details.

Mercredi 13 décembre / Wednesday, December 13

👑 Le coeur a ses raisons … en chanson, Cabaret Mado

🎨 Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Jeudi 14 décembre / Thursday, December 14

👑 Sashalicious : Spécial Noël with Sasha Baga, RV Métal, Esirena and Augusta Wind, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Canada’s Drag Race Season 4 Viewing Party with Uma Gahd, Bar Le Cocktail

🎶 Debby Friday with Backxwash, Bar Le Ritz PDB

😆 Sleazy Christmas with Abby Stonehouse, Naghmeh, Mina Minou, Tara McGowan-Ross, Morgan O’Shea, Alo Azimov, Avery Jane and Andrew Jamieson, Bar Biftek

😆 Le Show Queer—Spécial des Fêtes with Joëlle Prudhomme, Anne-Sarah Charbonneau, Andy St-Louis and Marla Deer, Place des Arts

Vendredi 15 décembre / Friday, December 15

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

👑 COVEN Drag Show—Last Breath Edition with Selma Gahd, Uma Gahd, Seyoncé, Infernal Desires, Charli DeVille, Korra Anarchy, La Freak du Show, Esirena, BiG SiSSY, Anaconda LaSabrosa, Niko Lubie, Demone LaStrange and Moxxi Hollow, Diving Bell Social Club

🏳️‍🌈 Souper des fêtes du Centre de solidarité lesbienne, Centre St-Pierre

🏳️‍🌈 (P)réparer le solstice // (P)reparing the solstice, feminist open mic and poetry night, URSA

🤠 Club Bolo—Danse Country Montréal meet on Fridays at the Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud

Samedi 16 décembre / Saturday, December 16

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Jimmy Moore personnifie Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour, Cabaret Mado

👑 Jimmy Moore does Mariah Carey: Merry Christmas & All the Hits Souper/Spectacle, Complexe Sky

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Ciathanight, Crystal Starz or Emma Déjàvu in rotation, Bar Le Cocktail

🎤 Bareoke: Strip Karaoke, Café Cléopatra

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

👑 Miss Butterfly! Il était une fois with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👯 Tango/Salsa Queer holds lessons every Saturday, visit queertangomtl.com for information or contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

🤠 Club Bolo—Danse Country Montréal's Christmas Party, Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud

Dimanche 17 décembre / Sunday, December 17

👑 La Revue Drag 2023 with Rock Bière, RV Métal, Crystal Starz, EmmÖtional Damage, Érica, Eva Moist, Lisa Santana, Tracy Trash and surprise guests, Cabaret Mado

👑 Le Tracy Show with Tracy Trash, Pétula Claque, Kelly Torrieli, Jessie Précieuse and Victoire de Rockwell, Cabaret Mado

👑 Les succès oubliés de Noël 2023, Bar Le Cocktail

🏳️‍🌈 Puces POP—Édition hivernale 2023, Église Saint-Denis

Mardi 19 décembre / Tuesday, December 19

👑 Full Gisèle : Joyeux Noël with Gisèle Lullaby, Sasha Baga, Ruby Doll, Serge Ladrag and RV Métal, Cabaret Mado

🥳 Staff party de Noël du Cocktail with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

📚 Club de lecture queer discuss Lou Lubie and Manon Desveaux’s La fille dans l’écran and Obom’s J’aime les filles, Bibliothèque Saint-Charles

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

Mercredi 20 décembre / Wednesday, December 20

🎶 Fleece, La Sala Rossa

🥳 L Nights / Holiday Bash with DJ Marina Gallant, Le Saint Édouard Bar de quartier

🎨 Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Jeudi 21 décembre / Thursday, December 21

🎭 Les Folies Draglesques with Miami Minx, Uma Gahd, Banana Splitz, Roxy Torpedo, Scarlett Fever, Yikes Macaroni, Zero Lee Vanity, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Canada’s Drag Race Season 4 Viewing Party with Uma Gahd, Bar Le Cocktail

Vendredi 22 décembre / Friday, December 22

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

Samedi 23 décembre / Saturday, December 23

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Ciathanight, Crystal Starz or Emma Déjàvu in rotation, Bar Le Cocktail

👯 Tango/Salsa Queer holds lessons every Saturday, visit queertangomtl.com for information or contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information. 💃

Mardi 26 décembre / Tuesday, December 26

👑 Full Gisèle : Jour de l'an with Gisèle Lullaby, Marla Deer, Tracy Trash, Lady Guidoune and Lana Dalida, Cabaret Mado

😆 Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians, Impro Montréal

👠 Twice a month on every second Tuesday, Bring It! hosts an OTA night of ballroom and vogue with commentator and DJ. Follow their Instagram for dates and details.

Mercredi 27 décembre / Wednesday, December 27

👑 Jimmy Moore personnifie Lady Gaga, Cabaret Mado

🎨 Queer Sip & Draw, Blue Dog Motel

Jeudi 28 décembre / Thursday, December 28

👑 Bingo Disco with Rainbow, Cabaret Mado

👑 Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly, Bar Le Cocktail

👑 Canada’s Drag Race Season 4 Viewing Party with Uma Gahd, Bar Le Cocktail

Vendredi 29 décembre / Friday, December 29

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion, Bar Le Cocktail

🥳 District presents Frosty: New Year Party with Las Bibas and Ben Bakson, Bain Matthieu

Samedi 30 décembre / Saturday, December 30

👑 Mado Reçoit with Mado Lamotte, Cabaret Mado

👑 Jimmy Moore personnifie Britney Spears, Cabaret Mado

👑 Drôles de Drags with Miss Butterfly, Ciathanight, Crystal Starz or Emma Déjàvu in rotation, Bar Le Cocktail

👯‍♀️ Tango/Salsa Queer holds lessons every Saturday, visit queertangomtl.com for information or contact [email protected] or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

Dimanche 31 décembre / Sunday, December 31

👑 Bonne Année 2024! with Mado Lamotte, Nana, Marla Deer, Tracy Trash, Rainbow, Peggy Sue, Manny, Ruby Doll, Bobépine, Kitana and Johnny Jones, Cabaret Mado

🥳 The Dark Eighties NYE Party, Church of St. John the Evangelist

OTHERS / LES AUTRES

🏐 Les Ratons-Chasseurs (Montréal’s LGBTA dodgeball group) holds regular events. Keep an eye on their Facebook for upcoming opportunities to join in and play.

🕹Montréal Gaymers hosts regular gatherings including board game nights and gaming gatherings. Check their Facebook for what’s next!

🏃🏾Join the Out-Run run and workout club for people relating to the queer / sapphic experience. Details on their Instagram!

🐦 Bird lovers should keep their eye on Queer Birders' regularly scheduled birdwatching events and excursions. Join the Facebook group and get those binoculars at the ready.

#mtlmoments #lgbttravel #2slgbtq #drag #montreal #queermtl #lgbtq #nightlife #thingstodo #events

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