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the-gimmick-archive · 4 months

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Pinned post. (Will update.)

This is a shared blog made to archive important things that happen in the gimmickverse.

The current mods are: @justazebra (admin), @i-dont-know-how-to-name-this.

If we make a mistake, please tell us.

Please @ us if you see an important event happen, especially wars.

Send us an ask if you want to know about a certain event, we’ll do our best to find it.

If you have the link to something important that we didn't archive yet (especially if it happened before this blog started existing), please send it to us.

List of arcs and events:

The color war:

Earliest point in the arc we could find. The purple revolution begins. Green joins the revolution.

That time when figuratively everyone got possessed:

Earliest point in the arc we could find.

The UwU revolution:

Earliest point in the arc we could find.

Sealand dying and being revived:

Death. Revival. Death again, but this time they become death's assistant.

IKEA-Party City War:

Earliest point in the arc.

Goose god vs. Waste management war:

Earliest point. Waste management also declaring war. Goose god and waste management making an alliance to stop @/france-unofficial from attacking bean and making Bean sad.

New Zealand vs. Australia war:

Earliest point. New Zealand changing targets to England instead.

Bean getting kidnapped:

Earliest point.

Bean getting kidnapped again (by gimmick nose thief this time.):

Earliest point. Waste management selling their soul so they can see bean again. Molossia scratching and paralyzing Sealand. Sealand getting their souls stolen by gimmick nose thief.

List of gimmick blogs (copied from @/gimmick-simp, @/antarcitica-official, and @/celestial-same-picverse, and then added some missing ones):

@totally-official-gmail @totally-amazon @pizza-hut-official @spotify-official @truly-jcjenson

@bigbasket-notreally @discorddotcum-official @homedepot @im-pandora-i-promise @femboy-totally-bing

@kahoot-official @100percent-shell-oil @assistant-to-the-shell @truly-bath-and-body-works @definitely-tiktok-trust

@unofficially-joann-fabric @its-sanrio-official @the-real-gmail @apple-unofficial @jack-in-the-box-official

@official-arbys @officialtinder @realgoogleslides @reallytimhortons @officially-ikea

@claires-unofficial @barnes-and-noble-official @realgoogleclassroom @real-sephora @pizza-hut-unofficial

@google-news-official @totally-official-gmail @bingle-official @basically-bumble @def-bjs-guys

@official-opera-gx @official-firefox-nightly @the-mcdonalds @realgoogledocs @mcdonalds-official

@totally-bing @operagxreal @official-fedex @firehouse-subs-fr @k-f-c-official

@the-real-google @totally-ikea @taco-bell-unofficial @spotify-kids-real @the-real-victorias-secret

@subway-official @big-mayo-official @/realsafari @incognito-mode-official @burgerking-official

@definitely-wikipedia @the-one-and-only-pornhub @the-one-and-only-duckduckgo @its-target-official @yes-im-youtube-kids

@walmart-the-official @duothelingo @firefox-official @femboy-hooters-real @fedex-official

@yamaha-official @youtubefr @actually-x @reality-official

@femboy-google-news-official @50percent-shell-oil @yahooo-official @totally-airbus @the-official-spirit-airlines

@100percent-chipotle @unofficialvine

@totally-brazil @totally-italy @very-real-australia @the-province-of-nova-scotia-real @official-new-zealand

@russia-totallyofficial @quebec-official @india-official @india-reblogs @telangana-official

@denmark-official @pakistan-official @definitely-brasil @non-tyrannical-usa @antarcitica-official

@spain-unofficial @definitely-canada @france-unofficial @the-state-of-georgia-official @official-denmark

@denmark-forreal @official-ireland @texas-real @massachusetts-official @new-york-for-real

@definitelytherepublicofireland @true-blue-straya @totally-germany @official-the-united-states @totally-france

@forever-scotland @germany-official @sovereign-state-of-alaska @guatemala-official @republic-of-molossia

@actually-alberta @the-principality-of-sealand @totally-oregon @yugoslavia-official

@the-chill-planet-uranus @the-serene-moon-luna @earth-fan @deimos-moon-of-terror @officially-capricorn

@the-radiant-sun @the-ringed-planet-saturn @the-red-planet-mars @the-real-uranus @celestial-same-picverse

@officially-taurus @the-lovely-planet-earth @posts-with-10000-notes-in-spirit @/i-hesitantly-say-ok

@i-say-not-ok @i-say-ok @the-us-navy-offical

@woo-in-different-lengths @official-garlic-bread @shakespeare-official-reblogs @gimmick-thief @hold-my-dr-pepper

@oscar-wilde-official-account @the-real-illinois @i-say-grape @the-kingdom-of-norway @denmarklandia-official

@i-say-bean @sweden-official @antarcitica-official @gimmick-nose-thief @gimmick-thief-thief

@tamil-nadu-official @tamilnadu-official @anti-totally-bing @antiquitian-empire @rocks-anon

@tagswoman @actual-aspec-military @pansexual-spaceforce @the-aplatonic-cavalry @the-pointing-anon

@bi-poly-space-station @bisexual-airforce @aro-sp-ace-force @nonbinary-coastguard @demi-demolitions

@queer-military-authorities @queer-military-treasury @the-missiles-guy @the-official-goose-god @the-official-gemini

@actual-transgender-navy @genderfluid-marine-corp @real-australian-army @real-hottopic

@same-pic-of-venus-everyday @same-pic-of-the-earth-everyday @same-pic-of-the-moon-everyday @same-pic-of-mars-everyday @same-pic-of-jupiter-everyday

@same-pic-of-saturn-everyday @the-real-uranus @same-pic-of-neptune-everyday @steve-not-anon @metal-frisbee

@earth-fan @not-10-salmon-in-a-png @same-pic-of-halleys-comet @same-pic-of-callisto-everyday @same-pic-of-eris-everyday @same-pic-of-kepler-186f-everyday

@same-pic-of-haumea-everyday @same-image-of-7-iris @book-nonsie-not-anon @celestial-same-picverse @same-pic-of-pluto-everyday

@same-pic-of-juno-everyday @same-pic-of-polaris-everyday @tomblrmartian @same-pic-of-a-blackhole-everyday @same-pic-of-the-stars-everyday

@alpha-centauri-everyday @same-cosmic-cliffs-pic-every-day @rose-nebula-always @same-pic-of-makemake-everyday @same-picture-of-europa

@same-pic-of-the-lagoon-nebula @star-that-eats-the-sun @jupiter-fan

@same-pic-of-triton-everyday @pq-anon @same-pic-of-ceres-everyday @same-pic-of-wolftopia-everyday

@same-pic-of-mars-everyday @same-pic-of-tres2b-everyday @samepicofthewowsignaleveryday @same-pic-of-the-blue-moon @same-image-of-hr8799e-every-day

@samepictureofsednadaily @moon-of-fear-phobos @totally-neptune-official @corvus-the-constellation @official-nissan

@hollowknight-reference @microsoft-edge-official @arethosewordsinthebible @the-gimmick-doctor @i-say-doot-doot

@i-say-ok @discord-marriage-bot-real @literally-leo @literally-luxembourg

@/same-pic-of-a-dictionary-daily @/same-pic-of-mercury-everyday @/hateful-daystar @//court-artist-under-the-stars @/samepicofproximacentaurieveryday @/same-pic-of-the-sun-everyday @/same-pic-of-the-blood-moon @/same-pic-of-uranus-everyday @/same-pic-of-venus-every-day @/same-pic-of-trans-jupiter @/ton-618-real @/same-pic-of-alpha-centaur-24-7 @/same-pic-of-andromeda-everyday @/same-pic-of-a-bagel-everyday @/same-pic-of-titan-every-day

@putting-iris-in-places @communist-usa-real

(Sorry if you didn't want to get tagged.)

#gimmick blog #gimmick account #into the gimmickverse

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huggybearhughes43 · 3 months

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Country singer reader that’s Canada’s sweetheart reconnecting with her childhood best friend Ethan Edwards after her performance at the Calgary Stampede (since he was there tonight) leading to fluff and smut please

Worth the wait

Ethan Edwards x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, raw dawgin, oral (fem receiving), semi public, creampie

Summary- in the ask

Word count- 2.2k

My jaw was slacked as I stared at the phone in my hand, looking at Ethan Edwards instagram story. Ethan was in the crowd that I was to preform to in less than half an hour. The fame was random, I had posted a song that I had written years and years ago on TikTok and it blew up. My heart ached remembering the song, it was one I wrote about Ethan, my little self was head over heels for him. We never had an argument or disagreement that was the end of the friendship. Really, it was him going off to college that ended it. I couldn’t be mad at him, never. Because he was following his dreams of making it big in hockey and who was I to be selfish and stop him? Ethan and I met when we were eight, I was the new kid to school and as Ethan is, he was the first to greet me. We were inseparable ever since, his family like mine and mine like his. Well until he got into college that is. We kept in contact for months until one message a day turned to none. I couldn’t be mad because I never built up the courage to text him either, I guess we both had the same idea.

My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I heard my name announced. I put my phone down and make my way to the stage, trying my ever most best to shut out the nerves. I waved at the crowd as they cheered, smiling as I walk up to the microphone. My breath was shaky and my eyes scanned over the part of the crowd where I knew Ethan was. I cleared my throat and began my introduction. “How are we doing tonight, Alberta?” The crowd cheers and I smile. I sigh into the microphone which is followed by a laugh. “Being on tour… it’s so great to be back in my home town.” I grab the microphone of the stand and hold it to myself, “let’s make this concert one to remember, hm?” The crowd cheers again and the lights dim as my band starts their instruments.

The concert was amazing to say the least. My eyes couldn’t break contact with the area he posted the photo from. My eyes scanned along the group, wanting so bad to find the face I missed the most. My singing came to a close and the crowd cheered. My breath was shaky knowing exactly what song was next. It was my last song of the night, the one that made me famous… the one I wrote about Ethan. I contemplated admitting the truth on who the songs about. I take a deep breath and make my decision. I step back and ask my band to play the rhythm of the song slowly as I spoke and they agreed. The crowd cheered at the realization of the song and I began to confess.

“Have any of you had a person in your childhood that no matter how hard you tried you can’t forget about?” I smile and shake my head, “being back in my hometown… made me want to share this story with you all. The story behind this very song. As you’ve all probably guessed, the songs about a boy I was in love with.” I tap my foot rhythmically to the beat of the song in the background. “This wasn’t a random boy, he was my best friend for ten years. Some of you may know him, kind of a town legend for making it big on hockey.” I smile, eyes still scanning the crowd. Until my eyes met with his. I took a deep breath, he was smiling the same smile I remembered from my childhood. “So you, my hometown, heard it here first. This song is about Ethan Edwards.” The sight of his huge smile and his friends drunkenly cheering him on next to him was a sight I never wanted to forget. I forced my eyes to recognize the rest of the crowd as I began the song.

The song was slow and emotion baring. The crowd sung along, staring a theme of putting their flashlights in the air, waving the phones to the song. This was a common thing for fans to do during this song but knowing that the very reason it existed was in the crowd as well, made my eyes swell with tears. My voice grew shaky and I take myself away from the mic to compose myself, the crowd continuing the song without me. My heart swelled harshly when my eyes were brought back to where Ethan was standing. His arms were crossed with a drink in his hand. He smiled hard, like it was the only expression he knew to make. I took a deep breath and sung the song to a closing. The crowd cheered louder than I’d heard before, the bright lights turning back on the help the crowd to leave.

I thanked everyone and made my way off stage. My band cheered me on and patted my back as they walked past me. I grabbed my phone and stared at it, my thumb hovering over it as I contemplated texting Ethan. I sighed and decided against it, placing the phone in my back pocket before making my way to the dressing room where my bag was. I walked in, closing the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror, contemplating my decisions. My thoughts are startled by a knock at the door, my bones practically jumping out of my skin at how hard I jumped. I shake my head and open the door, my eyes going wide and my mouth drying as I stare up at the tall man. I felt like I was going to faint.

“Ethan?!” I grasp at my heart. It was a habit I’d done since I was younger. “In the flesh.” He smiles and pulls me into a tight hug. So tight that in any other circumstances I’d be fighting my way out of his grasp. But instead I hug him back, nestling my head into his shoulder. I gain my composure and pull away with a huge smile on my face. “How’d you manage to get back here?” He laughs and rubs his jaw that I noticed he was growing stubble on. “Was trying to convince a security guy to let me in but he wouldn’t budge. I guess one of your band mates heard me say my name and he asked the guy to let me through.” He paused for a moment, “is the song really about me?” My face goes pale and I sigh with a nod, “yeah.” “I thought it was about Zach” he shoves his hands in his pockets at the mention of my ex.

I smile at his bleak words but follow with a shake of my head. ��I made it in the treehouse.” I take a deep breath, remembering the designated hang out spot of ours. Everyday after school we’d go to that treehouse. One day his mom wanted him home before he met me there. Waiting, I wrote the famous song. That’s exactly what I told him as well. When I rushed to close that notebook as he climbed into the treehouse, he assumed I was just writing in a diary. In a way I was, but when I told him I didn’t want to talk about it he didn’t peep another word. It was a quality of his that I was very fond of.

He stepped into the room and closed the door before slumping on the couch on the back wall of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks up with a defeated expression. I tilt my head and sit next to him. “Scared of rejection I guess.” He cracked I smile. “Y/n, I’ve been in love with you since our first conversation. My friends forced me to come today because I wouldn’t shut up about how my childhood best friend is famous now.” He pauses, “congratulations by the way.” I rub my neck and laugh, “congratulations for making it national.” We sit in silence for a moment. “Was the confession too late?” I manage to squeak out.

He stares at me silently before cupping my face. My heart was beating so fast I was scared it would pop out of my chest and land right on his lap. When he saw no sign of protest he leaned in and connected our lips. It was soft, too soft. He pulls away to say something but I pull him back in before he has a chance. The smirk I felt against my lips urged me to deepen the kiss. The wait of near fifteen years poured itself into the harsh kiss. What was a soft kiss was now sloppy and heated, hands wondering all over each other. His hands land on my waist, pulling me straight on top of his lap. I pull away to catch my breath and his lips find their way to my jaw and soon my neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He mumbles against my throat. “Ethan, the door doesn’t lock…” I warned him through breathy moans. He looks at the door, his lips still attached to my neck. His hands wandered under my denim skirt, his thumb brushing against my core which elicits a moan from my lips. “I’ll make sure if anyone walks in they won’t be able to see you.” He looks up at me for consent to continue. I think for a second then nod eagerly. He smiles then presses his lips to back to mine. His fingers pull my panties to the side, following up with running through my slit. I breathe out harshly against his lips, fueling his ego.

He moves to lay me down on the couch, crawling on top of me. He smiles down at me before pressing a soft kiss to my lips and moving himself at the end of the couch. He leans down to put a kiss on each of my thighs before bunching up the skirt at my waist. He pauses for a moment to look up at me, waiting for any protest. When he doesn’t hear one he loops his fingers in my panties and pulls them down my legs. I stare down at him with my mouth agape, one of my hands finding home in his soft hair. He kisses up my thighs softly before getting to my dripping core. His eyes don’t leave mine as he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit. I gnaw at my bottom lip in attempt to stay quiet.

He pulls away unexpectedly which forces a deep whine from my throat. “Don’t hide your noises from me. I’ve waited too long for this for you to hold back.” Before I can respond his mouth is back on my core. I throw my head back, moaning out his name repeatedly. His tongue plunges deep into my core before moving to tug my clit with his teeth. His tongue laps sloppily, savoring the taste of my cunt. Another whine falls from my lips when he pulls away. “Do you wanna have me in you?” He asks softly as he crawls back up to hover over me once again.

“Yes please” I cry out, my hands moving to his back. Ethan smiles down at me, reconnecting our lips as he unbuttons his pants. He lines himself up with my core, pushing in slowly. He doesn’t want to risk any chance of hurting me. He swallows down my moans with his kiss. He sits still for a moment to let me get used to his size. I pull away for a moment to ask him to move and he doesn’t hesitate. He pulls away almost fully before pushing back into me. My head is thrown back the second he finds a rhythm moving in and out of me. I was sure there would be crescent shapes in his back due to my nails puncturing.

He sits up without a fault in his paste. His rough hands moving my legs to rest on his shoulders. His abuse on my cunt doesn’t stop as he presses soft kisses on my ankles. My hands anchor themselves onto the couch as I arch my back in pleasure. His thumb moves to rub circles on my clit, throwing me over the edge in pleasure. My orgasm ripples through me as I moan out loudly, not caring to keep quiet through my euphoria. The clenching of my cunt pushes him over the edge as well. “Where do you want it.” “In me” I whine, “please, I’m on the pill-“ the second I say the last word he spills his warm ropes deep into me. He snaps his hips into me a few more times before collapsing on top of me.

I laugh and wrap my arms around him. “The wait-“ I laugh “was worth it.” Ethan laughs and nods, “more than worth it.” He presses another kiss onto my lips before smiling at me. “Can’t believe it’s taken me this long to ask but… well, will you be my girlfriend?” I bite my lip and nod. “Yeah, I will.”

#smut #hockey smut #nhl #new jersey devils #umich hockey #ethan edwards smut #ethan edwards

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year

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The Best News of Last Week - June 6, 2023

1. Biden orders 20-year ban on oil, gas drilling around tribal site in New Mexico

Hundreds of square miles in New Mexico will be withdrawn from further oil and gas production for the next 20 years on the outskirts of Chaco Culture National Historical Park that tribal communities consider sacred, the Biden administration ordered Friday.

The new order from Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland applies to public lands and associated mineral rights within a 10-mile (16-kilometer) radius of the park. It does not apply to entities that are privately, state- or tribal-owned. Existing leases won’t be impacted either.

2. Groundbreaking Israeli cancer treatment has 90% success rate

An experimental treatment developed at Israel's Hadassah-University Medical Center has a 90% success rate at bringing patients with multiple myeloma into remission.

The treatment is based on genetic engineering technology. They have used a genetic engineering technology called CAR-T, or Chimeric Antigen Receptor T-Cell Therapy, which boosts the patient’s own immune system to destroy the cancer. More than 90% of the 74 patients treated at Hadassah went into complete remission, the oncologists said.

3. Federal Judge Makes History in Holding That Border Searches of Cell Phones Require a Warrant

With United States v. Smith, a district court judge in New York made history by being the first court to rule that a warrant is required for a cell phone search at the border, “absent exigent circumstances”. For a century, the Supreme Court has recognized a border search exception to the Fourth Amendment’s warrant requirement.

4. Indigenous-led bison repopulation projects are helping the animal thrive again in Alberta

Indigenous-led efforts are reintroducing bison to their ancestral lands in Alberta, bringing back an iconic species that was nearly extinct. These reintroduction projects, such as the one led by the Tsuut'ina Nation, have witnessed the positive impact on the bison population and the surrounding wildlife.

The historical decline of bison numbers was due to overhunting and government policies that forced Indigenous peoples onto reserves. These initiatives aim to restore ecological integrity while fostering spiritual and cultural connections with the land and animals. Successful results have been observed in projects like Banff National Park, where the bison population has grown from 16 to nearly 100, providing inspiration for future wilding efforts.

5. Breakthrough in disease affecting one in nine women

Sydney researchers have made a world-first leap forward that could change the treatment of endometriosis and improve the health of women living with the painful and debilitating disease. Researchers from Sydney's Royal Hospital for Women have grown tissue from every known type of endometriosis, observing changes and comparing how they respond to treatments.

It means researchers will be able to vary treatments from different types of endometriosis, determining whether a woman will need fertility treatments.

6. Latvia just elected the first openly gay head of state in Europe

The country’s parliament elected Edgars Rinkēvičs to be its next president, Reuters reported prime minister Krišjānis Kariņš saying.

Rinkēvičs publicly came out as gay in November 2014, posting on Twitter: “I proudly announce I am gay… Good luck all of you.” In a second tweet at the time, he spoke about improving the legal status of same-sex relationships, saying Latvia needed to create a legal framework for all kinds of partnerships.

7. France bans short haul flights

The introduction of France’s short-haul flight ban has renewed calls for Europe to cut down on journeys that could be made by train. Last week France officially introduced its ban on short-haul flights.

The final version of the law means that journeys which can be taken in under 2.5 hours by train can’t be taken by plane. There also needs to be enough trains throughout the day that travellers can spend at least eight hours at their destination.

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#best news of last week

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crushribbons · 3 months

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𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖

summary: Poppy Sweeting is a little naïve in all the right ways.

cw: 4.2k words, fluff, friends to lovers (i have a problem), smut (18+ ONLY), f/f sex, oral sex, i used a second-person POV bc there would be a lot of shes and hers getting mixed up LOL, fem reader

a/n: i may have a thing for girls who ramble and care about stuff :') also i know panties weren't invented yet shut up she's sexy! happy pride month xx laney

The early September sunshine was warm on your neck as you raced down the Hogwarts lawn to the lake. Steep downward steps carried your legs faster than your body, and you fell flat on your face when your shoe caught on a loose stone hidden on the bottom step. “Ack!” Your arms flailed wildly, attempting to break the fall. Your face got there first.

“Are you alright?” squealed the girl you were in such a hurry to meet. Poppy Sweeting hopped up from her position lounging by the side of the lake and ran over to check on you.

You stood and brushed off your robes nonchalantly. “I actually needed that. Nurse Blainey told me to add more gravel to my diet.” While you cleaned the dirt from your forehead and hoped the bruise you could feel blossoming around your nose wasn’t too horrible, you searched around for the leather traveling bag you’d been holding. It remained unscathed on the bottom step where you’d dropped it. Poppy giggled.

“There’s less dangerous ways to go about that, you know.” Her voice–Merlin. It had a light rasp and a musical quality that sounded like the windchimes that hung outside the Beasts classroom–coincidentally the first place you’d laid eyes on the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen.

“I brought you something,” you began, trying to open the clasp of the bag without sustaining another injury in front of her. “She made me work for her.” You reached inside the bag and rummaged around for a moment before your hand magically summoned a little squeaking ball of fur into itself. “Ah, here we are.”

You held out the pink and purple puffskein to Poppy, whose face transformed into a ray of sunlight. “You DIDN’T! Look at her coloring! Oh, thank you, she’s so beautiful, I love her, I love her, I love her!” she cried in pure delight as she held the disoriented puffball to her cheek and spun around with her.

One hundred thousand, you decided in that instant. You would catch approximately one hundred thousand puffskeins if it meant you got even a tenth of that reaction from her in the future. She looked happy enough to burst into one of her spirited rants about the properties of puffskein fur and how a well-cared for Puff could actually be used for levitating properties if you overfed it just the right amount, and God, you hoped she would.

The two of you walked over to the secluded spot that Poppy had laid out a pale blue blanket over. The grass was soft beneath your knees as you knelt next to her and watched her fuss over her new pet and the air smelled like honeysuckle. Or was it…

“You smell so good,” you breathed, forgetting yourself entirely. “I mean, is that a new soap or..?” You prayed that your lecherous remark had come off as a friendly compliment, but Poppy wasn’t paying attention yet.

“How about Alberta? Hm? What do you think?” she asked the puffskein, tickling it’s belly with her pinky finger. “Is that your name?”

You could have watched her for hours. The clear day offered a breeze that was wafting her short black hair around her shoulders and occasionally causing pieces to get stuck in her mouth. She spit them out without ever turning her attention from the beast, making an adorable “pthhbt!” noise when she did so. You realized you should probably be looking at and thinking about something other than your best friend.

“So,” you grinned, as Poppy finally set Alberta down in her lap to stroke her coat. “Anything amazing happen over your summer? I can’t believe it’s our last year already.” A bitter lilt had found its way into your last words.

Graduation. Sure, it meant the beginning of the rest of your lives, but would it also mean the end of seeing Poppy? You were friends, of course, but friends met up once or twice a year in Hogsmeade to rehash old school days then went back to their separate lives. You were excited for what the future and adulthood held. You were terrified they wouldn’t hold her.

Poppy shrugged. “Nothing spectacular! Gran’s doing well, and I got to see–OH.”

Her story slamming to a dead halt made you look up, and you saw that her mouth was open in a perfect “O” and her eyes were glittering like the surface of the lake as it rippled and undulated in the wake of the giant squid swimming laps. “You will never guess who asked me to go get a butterbeer with them. The second I walked through the castle doors today, no less.”

Your stomach twisted into a Celtic knot of green, writhing, jealousy. It wasn’t as if you could get upset; you’d had two years now to do the same as whatever Lothario she seemed bursting with excitement over. The only thing stopping you was, well…

“Who?” you asked through a tight-lipped smile, trying to pretend you were interested in this juicy bit of gossip.

“Imelda.”

If the giant squid had suddenly risen up out of the water and performed the climax to Carmen, you doubted you would have been more stunned. “Wh-uh, well, uh…huh, I, uh. Hm.” You searched the empty expanse of your mind for a single word. “Wow.”

“I know!” Poppy giggled again, placing her hand over her full lips as she did so. “Who would have thought she was so soft for me, deep down.”

Hearing the words “soft for me” fall from precious, pure, and innocent Poppy Sweeting’s lips made your head spin like a top. You inwardly bemoaned your filth-ridden mind and tried to shake it straight as you made sense of the whole situation playing out in front of you. “So…” you started, slowly, not trusting the words to come out of you in the correct order, or frankly, language. “Are you going to go with her?” Poppy’s expression fell a bit, and she looked down at the grass.

“I dunno,” she said. She started ripping up chunks of grass and casting the blades into the breeze so they floated away. A nervous habit of hers, you knew. “I mean, well. She’s a girl.”

And there it was. Your heart was a blackened lump as it sunk to the bottom of your feet. “Sure.”

Poppy was sweet. Poppy was kind. Poppy rambled when she got excited, and Poppy was the only person you’d ever pictured being by your side after you left Hogwarts. Doing what, it didn’t matter in the slightest to you. As long as she was there and she was happy, you would be happy. But Poppy had been raised by a witch with traditional values, and part of her values included explaining to Poppy that one day she would meet a wonderful wizard and fall in love, and that was the only possible happy ending for her storybook. Gran wasn’t hateful, if anything quite the opposite, but she hadn’t taken the time away from her beasts to explain the more delicate natures of love and sex.

You could still remember the time in fifth year Poppy had found you in the library studying and pulled a chair up, dropping down in it to announce somewhat loudly and without a trace of shame, “Did you know that two witches could technically have sex without a wizard being involved?” Her expression had been completely serious. You had glanced down at the book you had been reading to see if it happened to contain the correct thing to say in this instance. Potions and their Properties had stared blankly back at you.

“I mean, I suppose she’s pretty,” Poppy was musing, jerking you back to the present. “I like her enough, but she’s a bit mean sometimes.” Her brow furrowed and she looked up at you. “Plus, I’m not sure if I could kiss another girl. I don’t know if I’d enjoy it.”

Your gaze was fixed on Gryffindor tower. You were almost certain it was tall enough for the fall to kill you.

“Have you ever kissed one?”

Blood rushed into your cheeks and you struggled to find words. Or rather, you struggled with the idea of telling the truth or not. The truth was that no, you hadn’t kissed another witch; the only kiss you had experienced was a reluctant and simpering one with Leander at a New Year’s celebration in the Three Broomsticks as the clock struck midnight. It wasn’t nice for anyone involved. But you were absolutely sure you would enjoy it if you got to kiss the girl you dreamed about nightly. However, if you told her that you hadn’t, the conversation would most likely be tabled in favor of discussing Alberta’s family backstory (Poppy had to assign a fictitious past to all her pets) and you’d lose the opportunity to execute the horrible plan that had just formed in your mind.

You were awful. Awful. If you opened your mouth and said what you were going to say, it would be a gigantic breach of Poppy’s trust, and her naïveté was something delicate that you never wanted to take advantage of. If you did this, it would be unforgivable.

“Yes,” you said and shrugged. It was surprising how easily the lie wormed its way out of you. “Once. I fooled around with an older Hufflepuff up in the Astronomy tower after a party. She was lovely and the firewhiskey made it seem like a wonderful idea.” Oh, you absolute wretch. Adding elaborate detail to the lie now.

Poppy’s eyes were wide as a mooncalf’s. “Really?” she breathed. She was studying you with rapt devotion, like you were a creature that she’d never encountered before. If you hadn’t been betraying her trust completely, you would have been swooning.

“Mmhmm.” You decided to cut it there and hope that this conveniently graduated Hufflepuff girl never got brought up again. “So, who knows? I say give Imelda a chance.” Poppy chewed her bottom lip, its pinkness giving way to white as she contemplated your idiotic suggestion. Give her a chance? You’d just blown the perfect opportunity to help your dear friend with a tough situation by snogging her senseless. As friends do.

“Maybe I will…” She seemed to have more to say, but she trailed off and looked out over the lake once more. Hogwarts loomed over the both of you, and it suddenly felt like the end of your seventh year couldn’t come fast enough. If Poppy did enjoy her little date with Imelda, you’d have to watch the two of them walking to breakfast together, watch Imelda tuck the strands of Poppy’s hair that always distracted her during Charms class behind her ear for her. The thought made you want to be sick all over the blanket you both sat on.

Poppy cleared her throat, once more rousing you from your sullen fantasies. “What if…if it’s not too strange…” Your heart plummeted backwards up from your feet to your throat and started hammering there. Was she really going to suggest…?

It was her turn to blush now as she yanked three more handfuls of grass out. “Come on,” she muttered, too embarrassed to meet your eyes. “What if we tried it?”

You tried your absolute best to not jump up and start doing Garreth Weasley’s Quidditch victory dance, which involved a lot of gyrating and hip thrusting. You smiled. “Well, alright, Pop, anything for you. It’s fine with me. It could be useful, right?” Alright, calm down, your brain hushed. You’ve sold it, now shut up and kiss her.

“Alright,” she agreed, starting to look excited. “Maybe this will be fun!” It wasn’t the exact conditions that you’d one day hoped to kiss her under, but it maybe being fun was as good a reason as any for you.

You cleared your throat a little and scooted across the blanket until your knees were touching. The sun, which had been high in the sky when you met up with her, now hung lazily around the three o’clock position, and shadows were being thrown across Poppy’s face by the oak tree you sat beneath. They speckled across her nose like the freckles you spent hours daydreaming of.

“Just a friendly kiss, right?” Poppy asked, and she leaned forward until your noses were touching.

How was this happening, especially so soon after you’d put your entire foot in your mouth with that Hufflepuff girl nonsense. “Of course,” you murmured. Your eyes fell from her ash blue ones to her lips, pink and perfect and then they were pressed against yours.

You couldn’t help it. A soft moan tumbled from your mouth to hers as you brought your hands up to her hair and wove your fingers against her head. Her lips tasted like every delicious summer fruit you could think of, and you confirmed that the wonderful honeysuckle smell was indeed her hair. The two of you kissed and twisted your heads to slot lips closer for several seconds before Poppy pulled away and her huge eyes stared back at you. You could tell you were panting, but nothing in the world mattered to you anymore. Only kissing her did.

“Oh…wow,” she said. You opened your mouth to brush the entire ordeal off as a nice neighborly favor and hopefully save whatever of your dignity you hadn’t left in her mouth when she launched herself forward and kissed you again, much harder this time. You rocked back on your heels as your hands steadied her by the waist. What? What was happening? Your brain chased answers while your tongue chased hers and you felt her thin frame quiver under your fingertips. “Wow,” she moaned again, breaking just for a second to catch air. You whined at the loss of her lips. “You kiss wonderfully.” A hysterical little laugh bubbled up from her chest and you tugged her back to your mouth. As long as she wasn’t actively shoving you away, you were going to spend the rest of your days kissing this woman.

It was her turn to thread her hands into your hair, and she actually pulled the locks with a sharp tug. “Pop!” You shrieked in indignation, but she just giggled herself giddy and moved her kisses to your jawline. You wanted to remain indignant, but truth be told, the hair tug had sent a shockwave to your core and you felt wetness pooling between your legs. “Poppy,” you panted again, trying to break her concentration, but she was determined to kiss the entire length of your neck, it appeared, and you lost the will to even try and stop her. But decency won out, and you pulled her by her chin back to eye-level and said, “Do you want to keep doing this? I mean, are we going to talk ab–”

“No,” she huffed, cutting you off with several small pecks. “No, let’s just…Merlin! I enjoy kissing girls!” The statement was just sweet enough and just funny enough and just Poppy enough to make the both of you dissolve into laughter. You laughed for several seconds before you sobered up from the high of her body pressed into yours and you wondered if you should keep at this. Your hands were still holding her waist, and hers were wrapped lightly around your neck. “I know kissing Imelda won’t be like this. This, this is…” She grabbed your bottom lip in her teeth and pulled it, relinquishing it with a pop! Gods, was this the same Poppy Sweeting who asked Sebastian Sallow what he meant by saying he’d like to take her for a ride on his broomstick, because “Sebastian, we’re in Hogsmeade. We can’t fly here!”?

You nodded. You’d agree to signing up for NEWT level Arithmancy at this point. Anything to keep her in your arms.

“Lay down,” you whispered, and she complied instantly, pulling you down with her into a mind-decimating snog that had you instinctively shedding your house robes and swinging your leg over her waist to hover above her. Frenzied lust was making the decisions for you at this point. Poppy wasn’t protesting, or pointing out the fact that this was still technically her first girl kiss; on the contrary, she was unclasping her own robes and shimmying them out from under her, then yanking you back down.

“Hey, Pop?” Poppy replied with an unintelligible string of “mmmm”s that, judging by the way she was moving her hands down your back to your backside, seemed more like moans.

“Did you know two witches can have sex without a wizard even–”

“Shut it!” she cried, her voice raising in adorable anger. You’d teased her lightly in the wake of that question years ago, and how could you not bring it up in such a perfect moment as this? She ran her fingers down the back of your skirt, then, using her fingernails in a delicious scrape that made every nerve in your body dance, and pulled it up over your ass. Her nails dug into the soft flesh there and you groaned before moving your knee in between her legs.

“Aaah!” Poppy gasped in sheer delight as her core bumped against your knee and she realized that you were pleasuring her. Your kisses grew sloppier as she began shamelessly grinding on your leg. Her thigh-length skirt was impeding the process, so you flipped it up as she had done yours and saw…You closed your eyes and said a quick prayer of thanksgiving. Merlin, she was wearing white lace panties. And–

“Fuuuuck,” you whined, your finger ghosting over the embroidered poppy at the top of them. “You’re so fucking sweet, Sweeting!”

But Poppy had devolved into a needy mess by now. She was barely holding onto her composure as she demanded, “Please, please! Show me how to do this, I want this, puh-leeease, I want this!” You’d never seen Poppy demand anything in her life, let alone sex. You couldn’t have imagined the sight being as perfect as it was. Her cheeks flushed, hair splayed out behind her on the blanket, her chest rising and falling rapidly as a dark, wet spot on her panties rubbed against your leg. Then her words really registered in your lust-addled mind.

Show me how to do this.

Fuck.

The last thing on Earth you wanted was for this to end, but the one remaining shred of decency that hadn’t escaped when her underwear was exposed forced you to choke out, “Ok, wait.” Poppy wanted to do nothing of the sort.

“Talk later, do this now,” she breathed, attempting to pull you back into a kiss, but you climbed off her fully and sat back on your heels. She pulled herself to a half-sitting position and pouted with swollen lips, “What? What’s wrong?”

You swallowed. Your throat was dry as sand as you attempted to get the words out. Everything had been going so well, like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. But your idiotic lie had come back to bite you, and you had to come clean now.

“I’ve, uh…I’m sorry, Pop. I lied.” You couldn’t meet her eyes and looked instead at the bald patches of grass where she’d earlier done her gardening work. “I’ve never done this before. I’m so, so sorry, but when you asked, I thought maybe–and I’ve wanted this for ages, to be honest, so I made up that stupid story about the older girl and—when really, I only wanted to kiss you but now I’ve gone and–well, you never want to see me again, I’m sure of it, so I’ll keep out of your way, and again, I’m so sorry, I–”

Poppy’s laugh went from a low chuckle to ultrasonic. It was so intense and so overwhelming, no sound was issuing forth from her mouth. She clambered onto all fours and promptly fell over again, doubled over from the apparent hilarity of it all. Your brow furrowed.

“Poppy.”

She was still beside herself, her normal giggle replaced with a raucous hysterical belly-laugh that was shaking her entire body. “You thought–” She gasped between breaths, but then laughter overtook her once more. If you hadn’t been so dreadfully nervous that you were about to lose the love and the great friend of your life, you would have almost been annoyed.

When she finally managed to sit up and form a few sentences, they were, “You colossal git! Oh, really, there was not actually a suave older witch who showed you how to explore a woman’s body?” Poppy clasped her hands on either side of her head in mock shock. “I can’t believe this. You’ve utterly betrayed my trust.”

You sputtered. “What? Well, haven’t I?” Poppy descended into laughter again.

“Of COURSE not! Come now, you bellend! I knew you were lying the second you opened your mouth! As if I wouldn’t have heard about this little Astronomy tower encounter the second after it happened? Please. I had to hear about Leander Prewett missing your lips entirely for a month after it happened.” You gaped at her.

“Then why–?”

“Because!” Poppy threw her hands in the air and smiled at you, prettier than a sunset. “I wanted this, too. I didn’t know what to say.” She reached for one of your hands and took it in her own. “You are everything to me, darling. You’re my best friend and confidant, and you make me feel strong and beautiful, and like I can do anything.”

“Well, you can do anything,” you whispered, smiling now too. She waved off your sentiment and continued,

“Not to mention, my God. Your ass is downright heavenly!” Your jaw dropped at precious little Poppy Sweeting’s words. All this time, you’d been being ogled, even as you were ogling?

It seemed you were an oblivious pair, well-suited to each other.

A thought occurred to you. “So, Imelda…?”

Poppy blushed, bashful at the extent of her own deception. “Er, no. She did not ask me to get a butterbeer.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of your nose, twisting a strand of your hair around her finger at the same time. “But you get jealous easily.”

“Fucking hell, Poppy!” You were writhing under your best friend, whose second and third fingers were currently sunk knuckle-deep inside you, curling up into a spot that made your view of the top of Poppy’s four-poster swim. You clutched the sheets beneath you until your knuckles were white, her fingers pushing in and out in the most perfect way you could imagine.

“Am I doing alright?” She purred, knowing full well the answer.

After the feelings between you were confessed, you’d been unable to stop from stripping one another bare and fucking repeatedly behind the gigantic oak tree at the edge of the lake. Her body was everything you’d dreamed and more. Small but perky breasts that you were addicted to kissing, grabbing, and biting at every available opportunity, long legs that kept pulling you in for a snog when you were trying to finger her, and her tongue…fuck, that tongue. When she’d first dropped herself between your legs and looked at your drenched cunt, she’d murmured, “Well, here we go!” and bumped her nose against your clit, causing a twisted cry to fly from your throat.

You’d both quickly figured out the pros and cons of two witches having sex; one of the pros was that Poppy was a tease of a top, on the rare occasion she did not feel like fulfilling her duties as resident princess of the pillows. They were precisely no cons. You ate her out a minimum of once a day, sometimes twice if you could manage to pull her away from the beast paddock long enough. Her taste was sweeter than anything at Honeydukes, and you were surely addicted to it. Even after two months, you couldn’t get enough.

You two were currently wrapped up and sweating in her bedsheets and praying that no one would notice a lock charm on the Hufflepuff girl dormitories in the middle of an unseasonably warm November afternoon.

“Come for me, baby,” she giggled. She fucked her fingers in and out three times in rapid succession then slowed her pace greatly, causing you to thrash and whine with want.

“T-tease!” You choked out.

“Only a tease if I don’t make you come,” she reprimanded, and as she continued moving her fingers, brought the heel of her hand up to rub against your clit. Stars sparked in your eyes and you screamed, pleading with her for release. She bumped and ground against your clit repeatedly until–

“Shit, baby, Poppyyy, I’m–!” Your orgasm crashed over you. A tidal wave would have been gentler. Poppy kept moving her fingers gently, a self-satisfied smile that she always wore when she got you to scream playing across her lips.

She collapsed next to you, watching your chest heave with the effort of catching your breath and coming back to Earth. Gods, this woman was so much more of a minx than she had ever seemed to be. “Hey,” she said softly as you panted. “My gran wants to know if I’m coming home for Christmas.” You sat up on one elbow. “Oh? Are you?”

Poppy chewed her lip, and you could tell she wished she had a handful of grass to rip up right about now. “I’d like to,” she began, “but I really only want to go if–”

“I’d love to, Pop.” And her face broke into that honeysuckle-sweet beaming smile that made you want to keep it in place forever.

masterlist

#*clears throat* *engages megaphone* hufflepuffs are lesbinems #reader was abt to go all good luck babe by chappel roan on her ass #poppy sweeting x reader #poppy sweeting fic #hogwarts legacy fic #poppy sweeting smut #hogwarts legacy #laneywrites

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socialjusticeinamerica · 10 months

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I’ve told you this before but I’ll repeat it. George “Dubya” Bush began the practice of paying Evangelical pastors to preach against Democrats and in favor of Republicans.

After coming out of rehab for coke addiction “Dubya” became a born again evangelical. As dumb as he is he quickly realized that southern and rural evangelicals were poorly educated and completely uniformed bible thumpers that could easily be bought off and used as a political propaganda props.

“Dubya”, who had deserted the Texas Air National Guard and had many scrapes with the law, had his record expunged by his father who had been director of the CIA. Papa Bush helped Nixon open China to Republikkkan corporations and then as VP assisted Reagan in his war on the American middle class and poor. When “wimpy” dad ran for President, Jr fell in with evil brain bug Karl Rove who put the coke addict in charge of buying evangelical clergy. A fairly easy task because evangelical churches are independent, for profit businesses with no hierarchy to answer to like the mainstream Protestants churches or the Catholics. The effort brought in so many new Republican recruits that it continues to this day.

During the Obama years the Justice Department investigated and revoked the non-profit status of evangelical and Baptist churches that were preaching Republican culture war bullshit. This infuriated them and was largely responsible for the massive backlash against Obama and the Dems. Although this was highly underreported it was a very sore point for the GOP thieves. Even today most Dems think the overreaction by Republicans to Obama was purely racism (and let’s face it they are racist bastards) when in fact it was partly that Barry Obama had cut deeply into their lucrative propaganda/fundraising in the south and rural areas. Although it’s not entirely clear that Obama led this effort to undermine the fascist GOP it shook them to the core. They need the pastors to tell the MAGAts how to vote and who to donate to.

Today the evangelical fake Christians of the old Confederacy are the backbone of the MAGA cult and they have been groomed to accept Trump as a “mercenary” for their bastardization of religion. They are willing to overlook his embodiment of the seven deadly sins because he pushes their agenda, not because he believes in it but because he needs their money and votes. It’s a match made in the bowels of Fox News Hell. They’re aware he’s the biggest sinner in the country but he’s their last best chance to set up a Christo-fascist state. Something that wasn’t even on their radar until the Bush dynasty, Karl Rove, and the RNC came knocking on their doors. They think they’re driving the car but they’re just the limo drivers for the oligarchs and their GOP puppets.

It should be noted that there are some cracks in the armor as many college age evangelicals have been speaking up against the tidal wave of cruelty and evil coming from Trump and the GOP. Somebody must have introduced them to the New Testament and Socialist Jesus. For the most part however the old guard televangelist figureheads have been silencing dissent. The young on both sides, while very vocal, haven’t exactly turned out in the massive numbers we keep hoping for.

Republicans still rely on a coalition of evangelical bible thumpers, far-right Nazis, southern/rural gun nuts, the wealthy, and Deep South Americanized Hispanics. The Dems are still largely a coalition of adult African-Americans, Northeast/West coast progressives, the over educated, urban dwellers, and union members (except for police unions). Thanks for reading and following.

#gop radicalization of evangelicals #republican assholes #evangelical assholes #George HW Bush #George Dubya Bush #Karl Rove #fuck the gop #christo fascists

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adelechka · 2 months

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Matthew Tkachuk thought he was going to be drafted by the Oilers in 2016 (Cam Lewis, 2020)

On Saturday, Flames forward Matthew Tkachuk appeared on TSN’s OverDrive show to discuss, among other things, the Battle of Alberta. According to Tkachuk, he believed at the draft that he was going to end up on the other side of this battle.

Here’s the story in Tkachuk’s words…

During the draft, on the draft floor, it was kind of a weird moment where some people at the Edmonton table, you could ask them they would probably deny it, but they’re kind of staring me down and kind of giving me some smiles. The only people that saw it were me and my mom so we’re like ‘alright, we’re going to Edmonton.’ Then Pierre-Luc Dubois went third-overall and the phone started to ring like crazy at the Edmonton table and they threw the jersey under the table and it looked like they stripped off a name and gave it to Puljujarvi with the next pick.

Tkachuk’s memory certainly doesn’t seem far-fetched at all.

Coming into the 2016 draft, there seemed to be a very clear top three. Auston Matthews would be the first-overall pick as the Leafs wanted their franchise centre and the two Finns, Patrik Laine and Jesse Puljujarvi, who had been brilliant at the World Juniors, would go second and third.

After that, it was up in the air. But Tkachuk, fresh off of a 107-point season with the London Knights, seemed to be the leader of that everyone else pack after the big three. I remember a mock draft coming out days before the draft suggesting Tkachuk would be Edmonton’s guy at four.

So, as planned, the Leafs took Matthews with the first pick and Winnipeg grabbed Laine right after. Then, it was the Blue Jackets’ turn to pick. When Jarmo Kekalainen went up to the podium and called Dubois’ name, there was an audible gasp in the arena.

youtube

The Oilers then took their chance to pounce on Puljujarvi, Tkachuk would slide past Vancouver and end up as a member of the Flames, and the rest is history.

It’s interesting to think what would have happened if Kekalainen had just made the predictable move and gone with Puljujarvi with the third pick. Would Tkachuk had become an Oiler? Would be a beloved pest here rather than our most hated rival? Would Puljujarvi had blossomed elsewhere?

You really can’t fault Edmonton for going with Puljujarvi when he fell into their lap with the fourth pick. He had just put up one of the best World Junior performances of all-time, scoring 17 points in seven games en route to a gold medal victory, and looked like he was going to be a star. But the fact that a Finnish general manager passed him over did seem a little ominous.

#the biggest what ifs #matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #edmonton oilers #calgary flames #matthew lore

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beyondthisdarkhouse · 6 months

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Well, I just got VERY distracted.

I was researching wholesale sewing supplies companies, and came across one from Eastern Canada that showed their shipping policies and times, which included a map like... this.

I've simplified the colours from the original, but not the positions of anything. And that made me DISTRACTED, because like... if you have also spent time staring at road maps of the prairie provinces, let me ask you: what the entire actual fuck, eh?

Let's superimpose. (Click for better resolution)

This map is sus in so many ways I can't even explain what went wrong here. The northern shore of Lake Athabasca gets faster shipping than Winnipeg? Kindersley is a priority destination, but Regina isn't? Edmonton has been usurped by (*reads smudged writing on hand*) Edson? The best shipping in Alberta is not centrered around Calgary, but, like... Nordegg? It's not on the map, but I swear to god it's fucking Nordegg. Also, who the hell did Saskatchewan have to fuck to get that kind of relative priority? (Come to think about it, though, if I were in charge of Saskatchewan, I'd absolutely sell my honour for some kind of rural logistics boost. What else would I do with it?)

And I wouldn't mind, except that this is the map that tells me how fast my shipping is gonna be! This is the only indicator on their website that lets me know whether my shit will arrive tomorrow, or a week from now!

(Okay, self. Deep breaths. I'm getting a bit upset and overblown here. It's okay. Clearly my shit wouldn't arrive until the next business week whether I lived in the Pembina Valley or not.)

So, in the larger map, Ontario, Nova Scotia, Vancouver, and Victoria are all where they ought to be. But what if, I don't know, these shipping zones were the right size and shape, but just in the wrong place?

I'd still be desperately curious to know what Saskatchewan did. And if I had to accept them, I'd guess they'd be more like...

If I'm right, clearly it's not just one thing wrong with them. They're not off in similar directions or amounts. At which point my only explanation would be that, like... someone started out with a shitty map, compressed the image, and then tried to blow it back up into a regular image again. And then it happened three more times, if not more.

MY FELLOW CANADIANS: DO BETTER

That's it that's my post. I wash my hands of the subject and will focus on suppliers from BC.

Except, just for fun, Saskatchewan's suspiciously spacious shipping corridor (what a great new tongue-twister!) with some European scale for spice.

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belivinthiscausemebarelyknew · 6 months

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CHRISTMAS SPIRIT 🎅🏼🎅🏼⁉️⁉️

liked by markestapa and 11,456 others

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liked by dylanduke.25,adamfantilli, and 18,550 others

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markestapa: 🤯🤯🤯

a/n: as yall can tell i was supposed to publish this last Christmas 😖😖😖😖 but i forgot and did it today 😏😏 anyways this is a short chapter so hopefully you enjoy this :)

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #luke hughes #mark estapa #umich #hockey boys #belivinthiscausemebarleyknew

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3416 · 7 months

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How Auston Matthews came from the unlikeliest place and rose to hockey stardom

By Jonas Siegel | 02.21.2024 | The Athletic

PHOENIX — Zac Larraza was the first player to be drafted into the NHL from the untraditional hockey system in Arizona.

The Phoenix Coyotes, appropriately enough, selected Larraza with a seventh-round pick in the 2011 draft. Larraza never made it to the NHL, but while he was on the rise and playing for the University of Denver, he invited a promising youngster he knew from his hometown to skate with him.

That kid was Auston Matthews.

Matthews was about to turn 16 and join the same U.S. National Team Development Program Larraza had left a couple years earlier.

He was younger than everyone else skating that day. But, right away, they all knew: He was different.

It was the way he skated. How he caught passes. It was his hands and how he carried himself: Confident, but cool about it.

“There’s some people that are just — they found what they were born to do,” Larraza said. “Shohei Ohtani: He was born to be a baseball player. Steve Jobs was born to invent. Thirty-four was born to play hockey.”

But before No. 34, no one from Arizona had ever become an NHL superstar, let alone one of the greatest goal-scorers in the history of the league. No one had ever made it big like that. Not even close.

Auston Matthews is a unicorn in more ways than one. He’s forged a path for the next wave of young players from the desert to follow.

Thirty-four jerseys are ubiquitous here for a reason. Matthews has made it possible to dream and dream big. The next generation has a reason to believe and someone to believe in.

Call it The Auston Matthews Effect.

It’s also a reason to believe hockey in Arizona will persist with or without the long-troubled Coyotes.

As Shane Doan, formerly the face for hockey in Arizona, put it: “Auston is the flag that everyone in Arizona holds their hat on and says, ‘Someone not only made it and played here and grew up and always comes back here, but also excelled.’”

“That gave everyone hope.”

–––

‘The number 34, you see it all over the place’

You can still feel Doan’s presence here. There’s a Shane Doan rink inside the Ice Den in Scottsdale, where the Coyotes practice.

Doan grew up in Alberta, however. Daniel Briere, another one-time Coyotes star, was also Canadian. Keith Tkachuk and Jeremy Roenick, two more franchise icons, both hailed from Massachusetts.

Matthews could dream of playing hockey in the NHL, could dream of being Doan, but still had no yellow brick road to follow. Matthews had to forge his own path, one that the next generation is now following.

Josh Doan, Shane’s 22-year-old son and a promising prospect in the Coyotes’ farm system, can recite Matthews’ story by heart.

“He came up through the ranks of minor hockey in Arizona and he had done it all and he stuck around till his U16 year,” Josh Doan said. “And then he made the national development program and turned pro at 18 years old to play in Switzerland and then went right into the NHL and had an amazing first year.”

Doan was 14 when Matthews potted 40 goals as a rookie for the Maple Leafs.

“It was really just a sign of hope for a lot of the kids in the area that it was possible,” he said, “not only just to make it but to be a superstar.”

Where once little hockey players here wore Shane Doan’s No. 19, now it’s all No. 34. At least one on every team — and usually the best player.

“He’s an icon,” Marc Fritsche, the director of tier hockey with the Coyotes Amateur Hockey Association said. “Kids know him. They know Auston Matthews. The number 34, you see it all over the place.”

Hundreds of Matthews’ Toronto Maple Leafs jerseys … in the desert.

“There was a guy who I went to school with who played hockey growing up here,” said Coyotes forward Alex Kerfoot, “and he was talking a little bit about how he played hockey with Auston Matthews. I think everyone here just knows Auston … and that’s cool.”

“Everybody back home asks me if I know (Matthews),” said Mark Kastelic, a 24-year-old Ottawa Senators forward from Arizona. “It’s cool to just be in the same world as him.”

On the October night in 2016 when Matthews made history in his NHL debut, Shane Doan was coaching Josh’s 14-year-old squad (which included future Maple Leaf Matthew Knies). Word filtered down to the ice that Matthews had registered a hat trick in less than 22 minutes.

The team rushed down to the lobby to watch him become the first player in league history to score four in his first game.

What could be more inspiring for young Arizona hockey players than that?

Larraza likes to point to his younger pal as a shining light, an example for the kids he coaches to emulate.

If Matthews did it, why can’t they?

“It hits home way more now that there’s a kid that was born and raised here, that they have somebody to look up to,” Larraza said. “I use Auston as an example all the time when I talk to the kids about work ethic. ‘I know 34 is working harder than anybody in my life. What gives you the reason not to work as hard as that?’”

Arizona hockey has grown “exponentially” since Matthews came on the scene, in Fritsche’s estimation.

USA Hockey lists 9,716 total players in Arizona in its 2022-23 report. That’s up from 7,781 players in 2017, a 25 percent increase. More importantly, at the eight-and-under level, there were 795 registered players in 2023 — a 45 percent increase from the 2017 report.

One thing that’s helped is all the ex-pros who have stuck around. “Even guys who didn’t play for the Coyotes have homes here and live here and come here in the offseasons,” said Mike DeAngelis, a Kamloops, B.C., native who arrived in 1999 to play minor pro and now works as the director of hockey operations with the Coyotes Amateur Hockey Association.

What do those former NHLers do? They coach. Steve Sullivan took his Arizona team to the final of a recent tournament in Calgary. His assistant coach was Derek Morris, who ended his long NHL career with the Coyotes.

Then there’s Dallas Drake. Keith Carney. Ray Whitney. Former NHLers are everywhere.

“Not only are they involved, they’re coaching, they’re involved in the programs,” Fritsche said. “And having that wealth of knowledge to bring down to those players and those kids and those families, it’s just so valuable.”

The lack of rinks is a problem. The Coyotes’ uncertain future has also again bubbled to the surface. All anybody can talk about around town, besides Matthews, is the future of the Coyotes, who are now playing on the campus of Arizona State University.

The Coyotes may end up leaving, but the path Matthews laid will remain. Kids will continue to play hockey here and dare to dream because of him.

Kerfoot has been a Coyote for only a little while now and lived at Matthews’ house in Paradise Valley when he first arrived last summer. He’s seen it, too.

“It doesn’t seem foreign to walk on the street and see kids playing with a hockey stick or see kids who are involved in hockey. It doesn’t feel too much different being out in Arizona,” he said. “Auston’s had a huge impact on that. You hear kids at our games even talking about Auston.”

“People see him, and it’s not just this fairytale myth,” Larraza said. “He’s here. He’s a human that’s from Phoenix, Arizona, that’s made it to where he has.”

–––

‘Elite of the elite’

Larraza had played alongside future NHLers like J.T. Miller and Seth Jones coming up the ranks of U.S. hockey, but teenage Auston Matthews was unlike anyone he had ever seen before. The “elite of the elite” were different like that.

You know it when you see it.

“You just go, ‘OK, we’re all pretty good players, but this is different, what’s going on right here,’” Larraza said.

Every year, by late summer, Coyotes players trickled back into town ahead of training camp. They invited Larraza and his pals to come out and join them. That included Auston, who had become close with Larraza, and Doan, who took notice immediately, asking who Auston was and where he was from.

While the Coyotes had, and continue to have existential problems, if they hadn’t come to town in 1996, it’s possible there would be no Auston Matthews, NHL superstar.

It might have been Auston Matthews, MLB superstar. Auston’s father, Brian, had encouraged Auston’s early adoration for hockey, but he and Auston’s grandfather also hoped he would pursue baseball. Auston liked the action of hockey, though. And he liked scoring goals, especially.

There were no ponds for young Auston Matthews to play shinny on in the desert, though, and very few rinks.

One of the few that does exist, Arcadia Ice Arena, sits in the shadow of a giant Walmart in Phoenix’s sprawl. This is hockey in Arizona. If not for the giant white hockey stick poking out of an otherwise bland building, you wouldn’t know this was an arena, let alone the place where Matthews grew up learning to play the game.

Arcadia isn’t much. One sheet of ice in an otherwise shabby structure but better than nothing in a community where ice is hard to come by. It’s one of the things locals in the hockey community bemoan. There just aren’t many places to lace up the skates and play.

For Matthews, it was Arcadia and the Ice Den, where he returns to skate alongside Coyotes like Clayton Keller every summer.

The locals love that about Matthews. Not only is he one of their own, but he comes back. They see him in the flesh and are reminded of the remarkable path he forged.

And Matthews and his family didn’t do what other hockey parents in the desert might have. He didn’t move to a traditional hockey market to play against tougher competition or increase his visibility.

Matthews’ father, Brian, grew up in Scottsdale. He would ensure his son had every opportunity to fulfill his dream in Arizona.

That meant rigorous training with Boris Dorozhenko, a skating coach who moved to Arizona from Ukraine and even lived in the Matthews’ home. It meant playing for NHL alumnus Claude Lemieux’s team, the Phoenix Roadrunners, among others. It meant spending hours on a now-shuttered three-on-three rink where the quarters were tight and slick puckhandling was mandatory.

“Auston was allowed to skate there as much as he wanted,” DeAngelis said. “And he’d just wheel around and play three-on-three or skate by himself.”

Matthews had incredible skill even then when he was just a kid.

That chuckling you hear in the background? That’s Shane Doan.

Matthews always had a mind for the game, too. His decision-making was strong for his age. His hands were exceptional.

And he was determined.

Dorozhenko remembers Auston struggling with one drill in particular. For 40 minutes, he just couldn’t get it right. He was crying. But Matthews wouldn’t give up and go home until he got it right. With tears in his eyes, he insisted they keep going.

“He never stops on something,” Dorozhenko said. “He wants to be better.”

Dorozhenko proudly describes Auston as a “pioneer” for hockey in Arizona, but no one knew back then that he would become this. How could they? One of the greatest scorers the NHL has ever seen — from Arizona? Get real.

But they knew something was different, especially as he crept closer to the NHL.

“He was a flat-out stud, that’s for sure,” said Keller, the Coyotes star who first met Matthews in 2015 while teammates with the USNTDP under-18 squad.

Keller and Matthews sat next to each other in history class as teenagers in Ann Arbor, Mich. Their nightly ritual: EA Sports’ NHL video games.

“There were like five of us that would play every single night, probably a little too late,” Keller said.

Matthews was Arizona chill — “super laid back” in Keller’s estimation — but maniacal about hockey, even as a teenager.

“You can tell that there’s a purpose to every rep, every shot,” said Keller, who skates with Matthews in the summer. “He’s never going through the motions.”

Larraza sees it firsthand when Matthews makes his annual return home to Arizona in the offseason.

“Like 80 percent of his day is focused on working and getting better, whether it’s on the ice, off the ice, taking care of his body, eating right — having a chef come cook him meals at his house, taking care of himself so that he is in the best possible position to succeed when the season starts,” Larraza said.

For other players, playing hockey is a job that they punch in and out of, Larraza said. “They work hard at it, they want to take care of themselves, but they’re also having fun and they’re golfing and they’re going on all these trips. (Matthews) knows he’s got a short career. I mean, 20 years is a short time in your life. He’s got 20 years to really prove who he is, make the money that he deserves to make, and carry his legacy.”

How much of Matthews is a byproduct of where he came from? Does he have what Kerfoot describes as “internal confidence” because he never had reason to think otherwise, because he towered over everyone in Arizona from the beginning? Is he laid back and chill because he was raised in the desert where the pace is slow and the sun shines almost constantly?

Kerfoot believes it’s just more about who Matthews is than his environment.

He was born for this but shaped nonetheless by where he came from.

“If you grow up in Toronto, or you grow up in a hockey family, you kind of are in the world,” said Kerfoot, a West Vancouver native. “Your parents know the other hockey parents. You’ve kinda got a path that’s all laid out for you. It’s just every day — there is like a hockey world. And he’s kinda carving his own path coming from a non-traditional hockey market.

“Because of that, I think he does things his own way.”

Now his way has become the way for others in Arizona to follow.

#toronto maple leafs #auston matthews #about 34 #the athletic #hockeyarticle #in case anyone doesnt have an athletic sub!!! article on the boyyy

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evilwrongdoer · 2 years

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bella ramsey x f!reader, they invite the reader onto the tlou set and introduce them to pedro

word count: 1,6k

I kinda went my own way with this one, hope you like it!

You were nearly buzzing with excitement.

The car was dark, the sun had yet to rise and the tinted windows just made it seem more like nighttime.

You understood though, riding in a car with a soon-to-be celebrity had its pros and cons.

Bella was staring out their window, fiddling with their rings as you stared in their direction, trying not to be too obvious.

She had invited you onto the set of a new upcoming series that she was playing in, "The last of us", a higly anticipated video game adaptation that was likely to give Bella a fair amount of fame.

You wondered if he was nervous. If the idea of gaining so many fans overnight scared them, or maybe excited them, like their mere presence did to you.

The two of you had known each other for a little over a year now, meeting at a small cast party one of your friends invited you to.

You had gotten lost, or rather, your friend had left you. You sipped reluctantly on your long island ice tea, which you regretted buying since your friend had disappeared and "drunk in a room full of strangers" wasn't exactly your idea of a fun night.

You sat at a high table in the corner of the club, fiddling with your straw and wishing you had just stayed home, when suddenly, a beautiful person sat next to you, and all of a sudden you were happy your friend had left you.

The two of you chatted for the rest of the party, and in talking to them you felt as if the whole world disappeared around you. He was absolutely mesmerising and he looked at you in a way no one ever had before. Despite your intense feelings towards them, you were too intoxicated to truly know if they felt the same, and too scared to do anything about it if they did, so the two of you became friends. No, more than that, best friends, and even though you wanted more than that, you decided a little Bella was better than no Bella.

After that, you were inseparable, hanging out at every chance you had, causing quite a few of Bella's friends to ship you.

A few weeks ago, Bella invited you to the set of the last of us. You were quite happy but never really thought it would happen as you didn't want to get in the way of him while he was at work.

Now, here you were, freezing your ass off somewhere on the outskirts of Alberta, Canada.

They were set to film parts of episode three today, and you really hoped you'd get to see Bella act in some scenes.

You watched as they set up cameras, lights, and most importantly, the snack table.

You and Bella hadn't really talked that morning, apart from the odd weather comment and loose small talk. You figured it was because of the cold, or the fact that she wasn't really a morning person, but some part of you knew that wasn't really true.

The two of you got to talking more as they got into costume, and you even got to meet one of his co-stars.

"Okay, would you rather live as a whale for a year or.... live as a horse for 6 months?" You questioned, looking at Bella with wide eyes as a make-up artist painted blood and dirt onto her face.

You sat backwards in a crappy plastic foldout chair, now in a trailer as Bella got ready for filming.

"As a horse, duh, it's half the time," He replied, looking straight forward into the mirror as to not disturb the artist's work.

"Yeah but like, horses are like super weak, if you break your leg or something they'll shoot you straight in the head," You gestured as the make-up artist looked at you confused.

"Ah! Don't say that, we're literally supposed to be on horses in a few weeks!" They grimaced, fearing for the horses.

"I never took you for a horse lover," you shrugged, folding your arms under your neck and watching as Bella's make-up came to life on her face, "Same though, I have thalassophobia,"

You stared directly at Bella now, knowing that you could say you were "looking at the make-up" or "just thinking about stuff" if they asked you about it later.

You watched as she messed with her cuticles or bit her cheek, and again took to wondering what was going through her head.

After she finished getting ready, the two of you walked quietly onto set, where you just so happened to stumble upon one of Bella's co-stars.

Pedro Pascal.

You wanted to scream. To just drop dead right then and there. But that would be all too embarrassing. You had been a fan of him since you saw your first movie, and you even had a crush on him when you were younger.

He wasn't as intimidating as you thought he'd be, although that's probably because he looks 6'3 but he's really 5'11.

Bella smiled warmly at him, differently from how she smiled at you. You wondered whether that was a good thing or not.

"Pedro! This is my... friend that i told you about!" Bella spoke, happiness filling their voice, and you threw a kind smile on your face, pretending as if you didn't hear them pause.

"Hi! y/n, right? I've heard so much about you!" Pedro gleamed, leaning in for a hug.

You hugged him tightly, something about him making you feel safe and at home. You finally understood why he played so many father figure roles.

You briefly introduced yourself to him and chatted a bit before letting the both of them leave to filming.

It took quite a few hours, with Bella getting a total of three breaks in which the two of you barely spoke, tension completely filling any room you were in together.

You planned to confront him about his cold behavior, at first feeling angry, and then later sad. You once again pondered the nature of the way they had been acting. Did she all of a sudden lose interest in you? Maybe they weren't feeling well? No, that couldn't be it, if they were feeling well enough to act, she was feeling well enough to not ignore you. Maybe something was up with him?

You let your thoughts drive you as you stared in one spot for what felt like eternity.

In the background of your thoughts you could faintly hear someone talking, something you chose to ignore, thinking it was just some far-away conversation.

"Hello? y/n? I asked you if you were ready to leave?" Someone spoke, trying to break you out of your haze.

A sharp snap in front of your face made you remember where you were again, and you now looked around as the staff was cleaning up things that you could've swore they'd just set up.

"Huh?" You looked up at Bella, blinking to make sure it was really them.

"There you are, what happened? I kept asking you if you were ready to leave and you just continued staring at the ground," Bella stared at you, their eyebrows furrowed in an emotion you couldn't place.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Let's go." You quickly muttered, grabbing your bag and throwing away the now-stale cookie that you'd been holding for over 20 minutes.

"Well, lead the way?" You looked at Bella, waiting for her to start walking.

They stared at you and shook their head, then immediately began walking.

The two of you walked silently to the car, as you desperately tried to build up the courage to talk to her.

As you got in the car, you began,

"Hey, so, how come you've been so quiet today?" You asked Bella, putting on your seatbelt carefully.

"Oh I was just,-" They cleared their throat as if looking for an excuse "Tired, y'know?" She was looking into your eyes now, albeit reluctantly.

You tried to think of something to retort, although their excuse, true or not, seemed believable enough for you to let it go.

"Yeah, okay." You looked down, giving up on your now long gone plan of confrontation.

It's not like you knew what you were confronting them for anyway.

She was just being weird, and she'd been weirder before, it's not exactly like this was a first.

You were so deep into your thoughts that you almost forgot how close together you and Bella were sitting. So lost in your head you barely noticed your eyes slowly fluttering shut, or your head leaning onto Bella's shoulder as you slowly fell asleep.

Bella was blushing hard, the darkness in the car doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he was absolutely smitten by you.

Your breathing was soft and even as you unknowingly snuggled closer to Bella in your sleep.

They were frozen, sitting straight up like a statue with their eyes blown wide and their face red. She thanked god that the car ride home was fairly long, wishing you could stay like this forever. This was why he was being so weird, the more he spent time with you the more difficult it proved to talk to you without blushing or stuttering or just straight up freezing when you spoke.

You meant everything to her and they weren't about to let some stupid crush get in the way of your friendship.

Slowly, Bella got more and more comfortable until it came to the point where they no longer could keep their eyes open. She carefully lay her head on yours and fell asleep as well, the two of you now clinging to each other like velcro, not bothering to care about the driver, or the fact that you were in a car, or the fact that "Best friends" weren't usually that clingy.

Ok, this took way too long to write and I think you can CLEARLY tell how touch starved I am, but anyway, enjoy!

#tlou #bella ramsey #bella ramsey x reader #writing #fanfic requests #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #fluff #part 2?

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th3-eastr-bnny-2-0 · 5 months

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Greetings mortal

#ghosts cbs #fnaf #dreamcore #fnaf sun #weirdcore #decora fashion #decora kei #the backrooms #gorilla tag #decora kid #transgender #trans boy #I tried give me credit plz #Nissac is the best lol #nissac

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ofliterarynature · 2 months

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TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 9 (July 28)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

I Am Princess X by Cherie Priest

Once upon a time, two best friends created a princess together. Libby drew the pictures, May wrote the tales, and their heroine, Princess X, slayed all the dragons and scaled all the mountains their imaginations could conjure.

Once upon a few years later, Libby was in the car with her mom, driving across the Ballard Bridge on a rainy night. When the car went over the side, Libby passed away, and Princess X died with her.

Once upon a now: May is sixteen and lonely, wandering the streets of Seattle, when she sees a sticker slapped in a corner window.

Princess X?

When May looks around, she sees the Princess everywhere: Stickers. Patches. Graffiti. There's an entire underground culture, focused around a webcomic at IAmPrincessX.com. The more May explores the webcomic, the more she sees disturbing similarities between Libby's story and Princess X online. And that means that only one person could have started this phenomenon---her best friend, Libby, who lives.

Tinkerbelle by Robert Manry

This book tells how a dream became a deed: how a middle aged, married and presumably sober copy editor of the Plain Dealer, of Cleveland, Ohio, happened to get the idea of sailing across the Atlantic Ocean in a small boat, how he acquired the boat, and how he executed the voyage that made his idea a reality. It is the story of the 13 1/2 foot sloop Tinkerbelle, believed to be the smallest boat ever to cross the Atlantic nonstop.

The author, having undertaken to explain why he made the voyage, describes his adventures during the 78 days it lasted: being awakened by a submarine, being knocked overboard by big waves, meeting three Russian trawlers, suffering weird hallucinations, repairing a broken rudder in mid-ocean, receiving a feast from a Belgian ship captain, trying to get dry, being interviewed by a Cleveland TV newsman 250 miles from journey’s end, and receiving a welcome from an armada of small boats at his destination, Falmouth, England.

Quite apart from the thrill of the exploits it reports, Robert Manry’s story has the happy effect of persuading the reader that he too could sail a small boat single-handed across the Atlantic… if only he could find the time.

The Cantaloupe Thief by Deb Richardson-Moore

It's ten years since wealthy matriarch Alberta Resnick was found stabbed to death in Georgia. Local reporter Branigan Powers sets out to investigate the city's only unsolved murder.

Branigan knows that the homeless often have information, but are rarely asked. She gets in touch with Liam, a pastor who runs a shelter. As they start to ask questions, secrets begin to surface. Then homeless people start dying.

Clearly the killer won't stop until all tracks are covered. But what the killer doesn't know is that someone is watching, someone who is used to being ignored and unseen…

#I’m just now realizing one of these has WILDLY bad vibes #and I don’t really want to read another one anymore I think #but can y’all guess!#tbr takedown #bec posts #books #booklr #book photo #Cherie priest #I am Princess x #Tinkerbelle #Robert manry #nonfiction #the cantaloupe thief #Deb Richardson-Moore

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year

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Canadian style castle home in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Construction on the property first began in 1946 when the home was built as a bungalow. Then in 1982, new construction began to turn it into the castle it is today, complete with its own lookout tower. 4bds, 3ba, $1.4M.

In the entrance hall is one of four spiral staircases. I'm noticing a colorful contrast of deep pinkish red and orange.

This house does not fool around- no stuffy sitting room leads off the entrance hall, here you go directly into a huge club-like setting with a big bar.

There's even a dance floor back there.

Here's your formal sitting room with a fireplace. Check it out- the wall and mantel above the fireplace are half & half. That's a little weird.

Plus a home office/den.

There's a family room with a fireplace outside the dining room.

Spacious dining room matches the family room.

The kitchen is huge with a ceiling of light.

The kitchen has banquette seating in the tower.

In the corner of the rec room is the 2nd set of spiral stairs.

They lead to a tower sitting area with built-in seating. Kinda cute. It's right outside the primary room and there's a set of stairs that lead to the 3rd level.

Large primary bedroom.

One of the baths has a colorful tile pattern.

The secondary bedrooms are decent sizes.

And, the baths are large as well.

The 3rd set of spiral stairs is the best. Look at this.

It's a 2 story library.

Sitting room next to the library.

There's a cool roof top deck on the tower.

Private fenced-in patio.

B/c it was a summer home that was made considerably larger, there's not much land and it's sandwiched in between the 2 neighbors' homes.

#castle house canada #houses #house tours #home tour #unique homes

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justforbooks · 4 months

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Jeannette Charles

The Queen’s most famous lookalike, who enjoyed a long career in film and television thanks to their uncanny resemblance

In 1972, Jeannette Charles was in her mid-40s and settling down to life in an Essex village, having returned, with her husband, Ken, from Libya. They had been living there for some years, but left following the army coup led by Muammar Gaddafi.

On reading about the artist Jane Thornhill in a local newspaper, Charles decided to commission a painting of herself for her husband’s birthday. Thornhill asked whether she could submit it for the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition in London, but when she did, the venerable institution returned the picture, believing it to be a portrait of Queen Elizabeth II and having been told by Buckingham Palace that the monarch had not sat for it.

The resulting publicity began a new chapter in the life of Charles, who would spend the next 40 years as the Queen’s most famous lookalike, and who has died aged 96. She appeared on British television and in Hollywood films, alongside stars such as Leslie Nielsen, Priscilla Presley and Mike Myers, and also modelled for Spitting Image when the satirical TV show was making the Queen’s puppet.

Charles said of her uncanny resemblance to the monarch, whom she never met: “We both have the same bone structure, so the same style of makeup and hairdressing suits us best. But I’m 2 inches shorter than her, so my clothes wouldn’t always look well on her and vice versa.”

She also made personal appearances – opening shops, handing out gifts with the flamboyant piano virtuoso Liberace and presenting a silver disc to the rock group Queen – and Muhammad Ali put in a special request to have a photograph taken with her. Commercials kept her busy, too, but Charles insisted: “I am not an actress. I only do the one role.”

Her first job as the Queen was posing for a London Weekly Advertiser poster that featured her reading a paper, with a stuffed corgi at her feet. However, London Transport, which was due to display it on buses and Tube trains, objected and never used it. Charles said it was a lesson: “too real … a little vulgar”. She insisted she was a staunch royalist, and told the Guardian in 2022: “I would never do anything that reflected badly on the monarch or myself. Over the years, I’ve turned down large sums to pose for Page 3-type pictures and insisted I should never be introduced as the Queen when making appearances.”

Jeannette was born in London, 18 months after Princess Elizabeth, to Yetta (nee Wonsoff), who was Dutch, of Polish descent, and Alfred Clark, a chef, later restaurateur, and was brought up in Perivale, Middlesex. Her resemblance to the future monarch was spotted when she was still a child. She recalled: “On a trip to Greenwich when I was 11 or 12, a photographer asked if he could use me in some shots, saying, ‘She looks like Princess Elizabeth.’ Later, I’d draw crowds, especially abroad, and sometimes had to run away.”

After leaving Wembley high school, she took a job as a secretary and spent evenings acting with an amateur group in Acton. She dreamed of acting professionally, and passed an audition to train at Rada, but could not afford the fees. Instead, she emigrated to the US at the age of 24 and settled in Midland, Texas.

While working there as an au pair, she met Ken Charles, a British oil drilling engineer with BP. His work took him to Canada – where they married in Alberta in 1957 – and then to South America and Libya.

They returned to Britain in 1969 and, when regal fame came to Charles, she found herself travelling the world again. At home, her early screen appearances were in the sketch shows Rutland Weekend Television (1975), with Eric Idle and Neil Innes, Spike Milligan’s Q series (from 1976 to 1980), and Not the Nine O’Clock News (1980). She was also in sitcoms such as Mind Your Language (1978) and Never the Twain (1990), and jetted to the US for a 1977 appearance on Saturday Night Live.

When Hollywood came calling, she put on the royal tiara to appear in National Lampoon’s European Vacation (1985). In The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988), she was seen flat on her back with Nielsen on top of her as they slide down a royal banqueting table – when his inept detective believes the Queen is about to be assassinated and jumps to her rescue. For Charles, another highlight of filming that wacky movie was being invited to Presley’s trailer for lunch. “We became good friends,” she said.

She was back in Hollywood for The Parent Trap (1998), with Lindsay Lohan, Dennis Quaid and Natasha Richardson, and Austin Powers in Goldmember (2002), when she mistook its star, Myers, for a crew electrician on first meeting him.

Alongside chat shows, corporate events, fete openings and other appearances, she appeared in Motörhead’s music video promoting their version of the Sex Pistols song God Save the Queen in 2000.

Charles’s autobiography, The Queen & I, was published in 1986.

Her husband died in 1997. She is survived by their three children, David, Peter and Carol, and her sister, Delinda.

🔔 Jeannette Dorothea Louise Charles, lookalike, born 15 October 1927; died 2 June 2024

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