#knoxie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heliads · 9 months ago

Note

If requests are still open :) Something for dead poets society, just sth with the gang having a good time, maybe trying to stage a play in the woods? Tbh just a everyone lives and is happy AU with fluff and winter and hot tea! (while I love this book I havent read it in a very long time...)

ok consider an everyone lives au but they are not 100% happy. (i am incapable of not writing angst my apologies) also this is movie dead poets society not book because i have not yet read the books whoops. hope you enjoy xoxo

'and it's not tonight' - dead poets society

masterlist

Todd Anderson is looking out the window at a gray, blustery morning, when they ask him if he’s going to be alright. It wasn’t quite certain before then. It’s not quite certain now, either, even after he answers.

“Of course,” he says somewhat unconvincingly, “Why do you ask?”

Behind him, Charlie Dalton raises a dubious brow. For once in his life, he’s holding himself back, but the situation requires discretion, and who is he to mess up at a time like this? He’s already been warned about treating Todd like a glass doll rather than a paper mache target, but even Charlie can tell that now is the time to pull a few punches. The hollows under his friend’s eyes are far darker than they were a couple of months ago. He wears unease like a well-traveled coat, thin at the elbows and rubbed raw at the seams.

“Look at yourself,” Charlie answers at last, “You’re exhaustion walking. And don’t tell me otherwise, I’ve got eyes.”

“I should hope so,” Todd remarks, and permits himself a small curl of his lips up into a half-smile. Half-smiles are good, though. Almost there to the real thing. So he’ll tell himself, at least.

Even a half-smile can let Charlie know that he’s alright. The other boy breaks into a well-intentioned snorting laugh. “Hey, ask any girl in town and they’ll tell you I’ve got beautiful ones. ‘Sides, Anderson, you know everything’s alright. The stuff with Neil was cleared over, right? He came back.”

“He came back,” Todd repeats somewhat weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, he came back,” Charlie confirms, walking over to clap his friend on the shoulder, shaking him a little bit just to mess with him but mainly to get his affections across. “He’s a little more tired than he used to be, and we’re all plenty scared from what could have happened, but overall we’re glad to see him again. His parents realized they messed up in the nick of time, and even if they wanted him under watch for a little bit, he’s back and we’re back and everything’s alright. Capiche?” He asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows for a bit of flair.

“Since when are you Italian?” Todd asks doubtfully.

“Since the situation requires it,” Charlie answers him, and slings an arm around the boy’s bony frame. “Come on now. The snow’s cleared up, and even if all that does is remind us how little grass grows on our campus, it means we can go into the woods again. I’ve been talking to the boys and we all agree that it’s time to dust off our finesse with literature. What do you say, Todd? You up for another rousing poetic exchange tonight?”

Todd jerks his head up and down in a hasty agreement. “Yeah. Neill’ be there?”

“Yeah, and me, and Knoxie, and everyone else you forgot to mention,” Charlie says in a tone of mock outrage. “God, you live with the guy, don’t you? Can’t you spare some excitement for the rest of us, too?”

Todd rolls his eyes, and finds the grace to elbow Charlie in the ribs. “Spare me the self-indulgence, Dalton. I’m glad to see all of you.”

“Don’t I know it,” Charlie affirms. “It’s been a while since we were all together, yeah?”

Todd blows out a low breath as they walk back towards the halls. It has been a long time, or it felt that way, at least. After the– after the incident after the play, in which Neil was found in his father’s study with a gun in his hands about to blow the trigger, it was decided that all of the pupils of Welton Academy would go home for a short period of time to clear their heads and come back ready to face the end of term.

Mainly, Todd thinks it was so rumors couldn’t spread about just what happened with Neil Perry to take him out of school, and he’s glad for it. Neil doesn’t deserve to have everyone whispering about what happened to make him decide that the best thing for his life was to end it. Neil deserves the world, and none of them could give it to him.

That was the worst part of it all, Todd decides. The guilt, how it wrapped around him in wires as strong as the heaviest chains of iron. He couldn’t escape it. If he was really Neil’s friend, he would have known. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd could have stopped him. If he was really Neil’s friend, Todd wouldn’t have found out about the attempt the next morning, quietly awoken from drowsy sleep by a Charlie Dalton with eyes like a stricken soldier as he lurchingly informed Todd that Neill Perry had tried to kill himself the night before. And none of them had known. And when his father had taken the gun away, Neil fought and screamed for it, worse than he did when he tried to convince his parents that he wanted to act, louder than he protested that he would be sent away to military school.

And then they were alone. At home. The worst place for boys to be. Should you grieve the friend who is not dead? Do you call each other on the phone, and ask if you have been playing any sporting games with other boys your age, or if you have given any thought to the fact that your friend might not have wanted to die if you had praised him more in class, or clapped louder when he performed, or said something– anything– to this beautiful, brittle boy?

They don’t say any of that. They think it quite loudly, but unspoken thoughts do not travel well over the telephone. The flittering ghosts of would-be words tend to get lodged in the coils of wire from receiver to housing, across the street and over the miles of terrain until they reach the abode of the boy on the end, who also has a lot to say but won’t. And then they both stay silent. And they both know exactly what the other wanted to say anyway. That is how friendship works.

They came back, though. Welton sent out a series of letters to usher back the pupils, even had its secretaries working overtime to call the people who never seem to answer their mail. There was another rush of cars and luggage to the dorms, and then they were settled in again. Todd had wondered if he might be assigned another roommate– anyone other than Cameron, God, but preferably Neil still– and then the door had opened quietly and Neil was there again, trying for a brave smile, and saying, “Todd?” in a voice that had once rung pure and true through a theater that loved him.

Todd loves him for it. He’d embraced Neill with open arms, felt the air punch out of his lungs in one strike, but it came back. He came back. They were alright again, sort of. They might be alright in time, but time is what they have.

Now they’ve all been waiting for the snow to melt, and treading on thin ice around topics they don’t dare broach. Neil has been a good sport, never making them feel awkward for wanting to treat him like a china doll. He was good before, too, though, and– It gets hard to tell sometimes, that’s all. Hard to tell when he genuinely is unbothered and when he’s superbly good at pretending otherwise. They stick to safer subjects anyway.

At last, though, the ground is firm, the weather not terrible, and Charlie’s gone and rallied the troops for a night out there. At first, Todd’s first instinct is to panic. They aren’t supposed to be having any more meetings of the Dead Poets Society, not since Keating was the scapegoat for all the trouble and everyone cracked down on what makes a good boy want to escape, but over time he realizes that it’ll be alright. Some things are worth the risk. Making Neil smile again is one of them.

They meet at midnight. Todd sits awake with bated breath, even though the act by itself isn’t even all that unusual. They’re teenage boys. Staying up until the moon hangs high and lofty in the sky is expected, not uncommon. Still, a delicious shiver of inherent wrongdoing whispers down his spine when Neil walks slowly into the center of their shared dorm room and says quietly, reverently, “It’s time.”

As if the others had been waiting upon that very proclamation, the remaining boys peer out into the hall immediately after Neil and Todd silently close their door behind them. Their eyes meet with shared secrecy, shared triumph, and they make their way down the wooden stairs and out into the bristling chill of night. The stars are out tonight. We are all out tonight.

They all start heading out into the woods. Charlie takes off like a flash at the end of a matchstick, hurtling at a runner’s sprint across the hills, and the others follow him at varying speeds. Todd begins walking at a normal clip until it occurs to him that he doesn’t see enough heads bobbing around him and he turns to see Neil hesitating by the door.

They lock eyes, and Todd sees a whole host of things swimming in brown irises, fear and apprehension and a sick sort of guilt that makes Todd’s stomach squirm in sympathy. He gives Neil one last moment over the threshold, then jerks his head towards the others, putting a little faux arrogance into the gesture in the hopes that an actor might appreciate an act in someone else and remember what it is like to trust oneself again.

Neil accepts the move and grins, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. “I’ll race you to the caves,” he calls, and begins to run, his footsteps sure and strong.

Todd stares after him, an astronomer watching his first comet, then takes off after him. The grass is dry and quick under his feet, spread out under each footstep like the wake of a speedboat. The wind, already coarse, pulls at Todd’s skin, his hair, his clothes, but not even the strongest gusts could keep him down. Somehow, he’s already to the edge of the forest, and he lets out a loud, delighted whoop. A barbaric yawp, if you will. Somewhere in the back of Todd’s mind, a dark-haired man in a comfortable brown sweater smiles indulgently, and chalks up another small victory to the wonders of poetry.

The second his war cry leaves Todd’s throat, the other boys swarm him like moths to a flame. Someone claps a hand over his mouth, and around him, laughs echo into the crunching of leaves underfoot.

“Don’t be so loud, you’ll get the professors on us in no time,” someone admonishes, but then a different boy cuts in, “Don’t be stupid, we’re far enough out that we can all be shouting,” and Todd’s punishment is lifted and he can yell once more. His defender– Neil, it must be, no one else can make their voice ring with glory like that in just a few words– joins in in the triumphant calls, and then they’re all shrieking up to the stars above, here we are, not boys and not men, bold enough to scream and young enough to never listen.

Todd thinks, as they run through the forest, that it’s been a while since he let himself go free. He hasn’t listened to his mind in a long time, hasn’t let the words roll around in his brain, loose marbles of similes and paraphrased poems. His musings are dusty, dark things most of the time, but sometimes the light catches them just right and they glow like sapphires. He could write a thousand stanzas if he wanted to, right now, and everyone would listen.

The Dead Poets Society reaches the caves and a hush falls among the crowd. Slowly, they edge inside, eyes wide. The rock faces and crumbling caverns should be different, Todd thinks, something should mark the passage of time and all the awful things that have twisted their fates since the last time they sat together and thought of prose, but the stones still look as they did the last time they were here. The moss grows in familiar patterns, albeit a little thicker in certain patches now that it hasn’t been scuffed by boots in a month or so, but one of Charlie’s magazines that he forgot to take back with him turns up under some spiderwebs, and Todd’s favorite place to sit is still just as inviting. Maybe, then, the only thing that changed was them. Maybe that’s all that needs to happen.

“So?” Meeks asks, settling into a seat, “What are we doing tonight?”

“Poetry, duh,” Charlie answers him, rolling his eyes fondly. “We’re the Dead Poets Society. What else would we do, peruse our textbooks?”

This earns him a vengeful swat on the shoulder from Meeks, but even Charlie can admit that the question was fair. They’ve read plenty of poems, they’ve written a few, they’ve even gone off and run some improv limerick challenges, although Todd notes that they haven’t brought nearly enough alcohol for that tonight.

After a few moments’ thought, someone suggests a play. It might be Todd. Instantly, the idea is accepted, and roles are divided out. They’ll be doing Hamlet, since there are plenty of long sticks outside and everyone is quite fond of the idea of pretending to run each other through. Pitts is already practicing his death rattles, except he’s not very good at it, and it sounds more like he’s hacking up a lung or two.

Neil, though, is glowing at the idea, and even though they haven’t got any scripts so everyone is mostly just planning on paraphrasing the hell out of one of William Shakespeare’s finer works, Todd gets the idea that Neil has a few memorized soliloquies rattling around in his head already.

Good, then. They’ll enjoy tonight, and the next night they’re out here, and the one after that, too. It has been a very long winter, but Todd has caught his first glimpse of new spring, and he gets the feeling that warmer, sunnier days aren’t the impossibility they seemed a few weeks ago. The days are healing, and they will too. And so the Dead Poets come back to life.

requested by @reinekes-fox, i hope you enjoy!

dead poets society tag list: @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

59 notes · View notes

ghostlychaosfoil · 12 days ago

Text

uhhhhmmmm my dog is good

#knoxy save me from the dread #I mean the #dragons #IMAGINE dragons

2 notes · View notes

azsazz · 4 months ago

Note

omg BABE congraaats! SO excited for u 👏 I absolutely adored Midnight Muse, so even though a small part of me wants to hoard and gatekeep our precious fic in this fandom, you deserve the success and recognition, and the world deserves good books! 💖

Remember us and remember where u came from when you blow up 🥹 luv uuuuu

now, some questions 4 u:

How was it to 'un-acotar-ize' the story, and find alternate names for everyone? Do you still picture the acotar characters in your mind in the new version? I'm curious what the rest of the changed names are apart from Quinn and Knox (which are awesome names btw), are the other changed names something you can share, or is that a secret? (it's fine if not, I'm just super curious 😁) Also, was 'Knox' a reference to one of Az's sons in your fic family tree?

Also, I notice it says "Book 1 of the Vulcan University series", are there plans for more? 👀

💙

Thank you so much!!! I know i wish we could gatekeep it here too but it was too good not to share with the world! The real ones will always know where midnight muse came from 💙💙

i could never forget any of you!! and you'll never get rid of me either 😈 hehehe. I love you too!! 🫶🏻

Honestly, it de-acotarizing it wasn't too bad. it was a little grating because i basically had to revise 120k 😭 and my version of revising that was literally retyping the entire thing because im a psycho and can't just fix up paragraphs haha. but the plot did get some work after all of the feedback i received and i thinks its even better than it was!! There's def still some subtle acotar hints tbh (maybe to the point where i'm worried it might be a lil obvious but whatevs) but gotta let em know my roots lol

hmmm finding names was kind of a mix of easy and hard for me. i've always wanted to use the name knox because i really like it as we all know so i went with him bcs i love it. it's slightly a reference to the son i made for him, but if you've read the knox x reader fic there's something that i do want to use his (my?) canon (or is it fanon? no idea) character with a variation of the name (so excited about). but that's for when i attempt writing a fantasy so idk when that will happen, there's much more thought that has to go into that than my lil romance 💙 but yeah we love knoxie in any form 💙

sometimes i do picture the characters when im writing...it's surprisingly mostly cass i think about or slip up when i'm talking about it irl 😂 but they mostly have their own personalities now and i adore them all so much!

I would LOVE to share the other character names!! So we have Quinn (absolutely love this name tbh) and Knox obviously 💙💙💙 Then we have Ace (which would be Rhysand's character in the fanfic), Rory - Quinn's best friend and roommate. Then we have Slate (😂 always cracks me up) for Cassian's character, and Reid for Luciens character. Mandy was Mor but only makes a brief appearance! Those are pretty much the main characters for the series 💙

There are plans for more...hehehe...i might be well into writing the second one as we speak, but the goal is to have four books in this series!

thank you for the questions these were so exciting and fun to talk about 🥰💙

#ask azsazz #midnight muse

21 notes · View notes

ash5monster01 · 1 year ago

Text

Truths of Our Past Series

Pairing: Older!Charlie Dalton x FemReader!Wife

Warnings: mentions of suicide, depression, depressing thoughts, past trauma, facing trauma, romance, understanding, fluff.

Summary: You had met Charlie in University, were married shortly after, and had become accustomed to a beautiful life together. When you receive a wedding invitation to one of Charlie’s previous classmates weddings you discover that Charlie had a dark past, one he had been trying to forget. In the midst of it all you try to help him through it while finding out that he’s not the guy you thought you married at all. Maybe he’s even better.

word count: 1.3k

Intro ←→ Part 1

Masterlist

You still remember the first time you had seen him. It was the beginning of Junior Year. Autumn of 1963. You had been riding the bus across Campus watching leaves fall from the trees. As most people your age conversed loudly over the latest parties and hardest assignments, five rows ahead of you sat a doe eyed boy wearing a beret and nose stuck in a book. Pride and Prejudice. You had never seen a male read Jane Austen before and at that seem to enjoy it. A smile crossed your face before your mind even caught up with your heart. Because somehow, just five rows ahead, was the man of your dreams. So you stood up on the moving bus, ignoring the complaints of elbows you bumped in the aisle, and sat next to him.

You smiled wide again as you thought of this. Watching that same boy sit across from you in the living room, readers rested low on his nose, and his eyes scanning the pages of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. You had now known the man across from you for six years, married for three. He still read like he did that day on the bus, transported to another world, not even a fire able to gain his attention. Love for him seeped out of you and you found yourself discarding your own book and standing to cross the living room. His eyes stayed trained on the page, unmoving until you were settled neatly in his lap.

“Well hello Mrs Dalton” his eyes finally met yours, an amused smirk painted across his features. He dropped the book once your arms curled around his neck, free hands now sneaking around your waist in return.

“Hi Mr Dalton” you smiled sweetly at him, nose nudging with his own as you removed the readers from his face.

“To what do I owe the pleasure in the presence of my beautiful wife” he asked calmly, lips pressing a soft kiss into your cheek. You smiled, snuggling closer.

“I missed you” you told him earnestly and he chuckled.

“I’m right here darling” he told you, not quite understanding what you had meant.

“Well your physical form is, yes. But your soul, that was somewhere in 1912 Brooklyn” you told him and he laughed, forehead pressing against your own.

“Williamsburg Brooklyn to be exact dear” he teased and you shoved his shoulder before curling back up into him, embracing the feeling of his warmth. His hand rose up your back, rubbing comfortably and now giving you his full attention. "What did you do today?"

"I wrote an article about the possibility of there being a draft, awfully depressing. Then I came home and talked to Chris on the phone before cooking dinner" Charlie smiled as you recounted your day, still writing for the NY Times under a pen name since you were a woman.

"How is Chris and Knoxie, and my favorite nephew Johnny?" Charlie asked, a fond smile on his face at the mention of his friends.

"Healthy, Knox got a promotion and Johnny got an A on his spelling test. Chris wants to enroll him in Welton but Knox isn't quite sure" you felt Charlie tense up at the mention of Welton, long and hard school days spent there now long behind him.

"If that old tool Nolan is still running the school I wouldn't want Johnathon there either" Charlie said, voice bitter in the warm air of the home. You sighed against him, wishing he talked about his time there more than he did.

"Chris said he retired three years ago, the only thing holding her back is not having Johnathon live with them, but he has such a bright future it might be a price worth paying" you explained but Charlie shook his head, eyes now dark and recalling a place in his heart he didn't quite like.

"I hope they think about it, Knox remembers what it was like" Charlie said and you felt guilty for bringing it up, you always felt guilty bringing up that place. Your life with him had always been in the heart of the big city and when the mentions of small town Vermont came up he was more tense, less him. You knew vague details, horror stories of lifeless teachers, and being expelled from school, losing a friend.

"You know Chris, she'd last a day before she brought him home and hugged him for a week straight. I never even figured the kid would go to Kindergarten considering she cried on the phone with me for an hour after leaving him there" you told him and finally Charlie was smiling again, laughing lightly at your accusation which was more than likely true. Chris was a helicopter parent, but Johnny was such a good kid.

"You’re probably right. She sure as hell loves that kid" Charlie said, bouncing his legs so you bounced in his lap. You giggled sweetly while looking up at him and he finally pressed his lips to yours.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, you coming?" you asked sweetly and he smiled before nodding and kissing you once more. His sweet and beautful flower.

"Right behind you, I'm just going to go through the mail on my desk and then I'll be there" he told you and you nodded while he helped you up from your spot on his lap. He watched as you disappeared down the hall into your shared bedroom. Once you were gone he pushed himself up to his feet and walked to his study. You had left the stack on mail in the center of his desk and he smiled as he sifted through the bills and letters from his mother in Paris. He only froze when he saw one with a Vermont return address.

Charlie felt his stomach drop over the thought of returning to Vermont. He had done it before, to see Knox and Chris. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be in attendance but every time it brought back memories he wished he could forget. Setting the invite down he realized there was a letter underneath the invite.

A week. A week in Vermont. Charlie hadn’t spent a whole week in Vermont since his Senior year of High School. Even as fear consumed him, heartache numbing his lungs, he pictured quiet and mousy Todd. The same Todd he watched grow from a shy boy to a successful man. The kind of guy you could never ever say no too. So Charlie sighed as he plopped into the chair of his desk and pulled out a piece of paper to respond.

And just like that Charlie agreed to visit the past but only because Todd Anderson asked him too. Dead Poets Honor. A promise Charlie would never break.

a/n: this is a possible series I was hoping to explore. If anyone would be interested please let me know and I would love to follow through the plot. Y/N will be used very little, it would be a short series that tugs on the heart strings. Any feedback would be appreciated greatly. please enjoy xx

63 notes · View notes

osrphotography · 1 month ago

Text

Red Boats' M/V Hogwash departing for Wynyard Quarter.

When Wynyard Quarter was redeveloped for the 2011 rugby world cup, a cheap temporary lift bridge was installed over Lighter Quay to allow yachts to dock inside the Quay. This despite earlier promises by the council to allow the fledgling Dockline Tramway to run to downtown.

As expected, the cheap bridge that should've been replaced years ago broke over summer 2023/24 and cut off the main pedestrian access to the Quarter. As a result, and aided by a purported lack of money, Red Boats have been running back and forth between downtown and Wynyard Quarter using the Hogwash.

New in 1946, I think the Hogwash was originally named Miss Knoxie and was renamed Miss Waiheke in 1973. She was converted to a party boat by Red Boats and has recently returned to her original role as a passenger ferry. Of particular note, she will be turning 80 in 2 years' time.

As always, thanks to @tau9 for joining me <3

#photos #ferry #boat

10 notes · View notes

askachroma · 1 year ago

Text

OOC:// I know I do it a little bit anyway but;

#ask blog #colress #faba #knox

8 notes · View notes

puckeyldigest · 8 months ago

Text

Hockey Where?

Unsure of where to source further reading or news on PWHL / LPHF? Look here! An (non-exhaustive) anthology of multiple medias in alphabetical-ish order (w/in a given subsection, search for player’s by surname). Note: All links lead to original publication or YouTube; Alternative formats and platforms incoming. Note: I seek truth, but cannot promiss non-error.

[last updated: 05-MAR-02024]

_##### INDEX #####_

. Puck’s Pockeyt Skraps . >> Official Resources . >> Non-Print Media . >> Print Media . >> Miscellaneous Features

Some pocket scraps, if y’relly that hungry for hockey ☻

{NEW} PWHL — Announces Partnership w/ Molson.

{NEW} PWHL — Roster Updates: S. Davis to Ottawa.

{NEW} Hockey News — Rumblings: Europe pushing back, false start trade talks, reserves, & NY frustrations.

{NEW} Ottawa Citizen — Molson and PWHL partner up [in jersey change] to boost player recognition.

{NEW} YouTube Playlist: Compilation of Olympic Women’s Ice Hockey Games & Documentaries. - [pending amendments: 2014–22 group stage, semi matches]

FACT SHEET: The Biden-⁠Harris Administration Announces Historic Partnership w/ Major Sports Leagues and Players Unions [**OOPS??! werz’s the ‘chel?] !!

Olympics YouTube — Anatomy of an Ice Hockey Player: ft. Jenn Wakefield.

_# OFFICIAL RESOURCES #_

LPHF [Site Officiel (de bizza bizza)] [Wikipedia page] PWHL [Official Website] [Wikipedia page] League Rule Book: [Info Here] [PDF] PWHLPA Collective Bargaining Agreement : [Info Here] [PDF] [Wikipedia page] Condensed Game Archive of 2024 Season [YT Link Here]

_# NON-PRINT MEDIA #_

Audio Publications

Ice, Earned

Jocks ‘n Jills

Video Analysis, Commentary, Essays

Ice, Earned — EP09 Game recaps, Playoff & Draft Announcements, Abby Roque’s Historic Firsts, & More.

Ice, Earned — EP01 First Week of PWHL’s Inaugural Season, Online Debates.

Jocks in Jills — SE01-EP07 NY’s Jill Saulnier. Plus: Poulin & Daoust reunited. Heise returns. Draft & Playoff format.

Video Publications

CBC Sports

Game Day Hockey

pdubcentral

Video Analysis, Commentary, Essays

CBC Sports — League news, New York’s struggles, Toronto’s red-hot streak.

Interviews

The Fan Club — The Guys Talk w/ PWHL Stars Emily Clark & Gabbie Hughes!

Knoxy & Kax — Marie-Philip Poulin, interviewed.

Jocks in Jills — SE01-EP04: Natalie Spooner interview! Plus, PWHL’s first trade and the Rivalry Series reverse sweep!

You Only Die Twice Pod — Saroya Tinker, interviewed. Only 3 Black Women Play Pro Hockey!?

Online Forums

Both the Discord and Reddit communities for PWHL are really fun and helpful forums!! not linking here for sake of online-bellicosity-prevention 🤖😡, but they’re easily findable via le Google!

_# PRINT MEDIA #_

Publications

PWHL News

The Athletic

The Gist

The Hockey News

English-Language News

The Athletic — Patagonia jackets, frantic moves, missed Super Bowl party: Inside a historic [first PWHL player] trade.

The Athletic — Eyeing PWHL expansion, [NHL] Penguins prepare.

CBC News — Record attendance at Toronto PWHL game shows interest, support in women’s hockey is growing, advocates say.

Defector — First CBA In Women’s Hockey: Story of Future, and Past.

Hockey News — NHL Will Reap The Benefits Of The PWHL.

Hockey News — Mikyla Grant-Mentis Released From PWHL Ottawa.

PWHL — Welcomes Saroya Tinker as Manager of DEI Initiatives & CE.

English-Language Interviews

Sportsnaut — PWHL All-Star Ella Shelton has cheeky take.

The Athletic — How the PWHL’s youngest player [Akane Shiga] is adjusting to a new league.

French-Language News

Le Journal de Québec — L’administration Marchand favorable à la venue d’une équipe féminine de hockey professionnel à Québec.

= = = 🐌🇫🇷 = = =

French-Language Interviews

TVA Sports — Laura Stacey: Du Rêve À La Réalité.

= = = 🐌🇫🇷 = = =

Statistics & Statisticians

= = = 🐌🧮 = = =

_# MISCELLANEOUS FEATURES #_

{NEW} YouTube Playlist: Compilation of Olympic Women’s Ice Hockey Games & Documentaries. - [pending amendments: 2014–22 group stage, semi matches]

Puck Shooter’s Fielde Encylcopedia: Free Resources compiled by Pucky L’Digest. {pending amendments: compilation of various free-to-consumer athletic and continued-education resources}

Как устроен хоккей 80-летних [title transl: “How 80-year-old hockey works”, can’t parse a word of it, but, nonetheless, I enjoy it!]

incoming ☻

and Zomme Laffy Taffies, t’boot ☻

Alex Kumin | I’m Your Mommy Now! | Alex Kumin | Stand Up Comedy | Stand Up Comedy

Sasheer Zamata | The First Woman (Full Comedy Special)

Kelsey Cook | The Hustler (Full Comedy Special)

I’d say look no further, but that’d be bullshit!

Think something’s missing? Comments/Questions/Feedback? Feel free to Mail in at, none other than, **foobo(alloneworld) chider1 (aht)gee, whizze… electronic-snail-mail (dawt, you get it…).

— Puckey Digest

also available via :

Medium .commahe

Substack .com,,,,,

and, ofc, TuMbLr [¿r we getting meta nao? X3c]

click here 4 a good time

[MORE AMENDMENTS COMING TO PUCK-O-PEDIA SOON! ☻]

[last updated: 05-MAR-02024]

2 [lost in tranzlation, found in spirit]

⚘❃⚘⚜❃❁❀✿✾✽ Many Flowers 4 U~!! ✽✾✿❀❁❃⚜⚘

4 notes · View notes