#NHL regular-season game

[worldnews7]

[NHL] Cale Makar Leads the Team to Victory with a Hat-Trick

Colorado Avalanche, Ball Arena   (Denver, CO = Won Jeong) On the evening of the 6th local time, the Colorado Avalanche hosted the Detroit Red Wings for an NHL regular-season game at their home arena. The first goal was taken by Detroit. Robby Fabbri, waiting at the doorstep of the Colorado net, lightly pushed the puck in with his stick. However, Colorado quickly responded with an equalizing…

[atwhughesversion]

only 3 more days until we get a canucks hockey game ‼️

[muirneach]

oh my god the nba trade deadline is in literally two hours okay thank god we're almost free of this. this is a relief i hadn't looked it up and i was going off the fact that the nhl trade deadline is still a MONTH away i was bracing myself for more insanity

[scoringeffects]

the san jose sharks have never ever won the last game they've played in a season .? and theyre the only team to have never won their last game. how did your team do

[c0renswet]

drove 3 hours to see my favorite team and drove back with a win 💚

[thepassionthatunitesusall]

I was thinking 3 games just to prepare for the worst, I didn't think that's what it would actually be

[ofpucksandsticks]

Pens v Blue Jackets Preseason Game, Oct. 3 2024.

[jerepars]

I was 1 for 2 in round 3.

I’ve been 50% on my selections for every round of this year’s playoffs so far. Maybe this means my prediction for the Stanley Cup Final will finally be right?

The Panthers remind me of the 2012 LA Kings, with the most difficult road to the SCF but stopping for nothing and no one. They would certainly be worthy champions.

(For some reason I’d also like to see Phil Kessel draw into at least one game of the SCF because it just seems wrong that the NHL’s current ‘ironman’ has been a healthy scratch for most of the playoffs. And yes I know ironman streaks are only a regular season thing.)

Wants: Panthers

Expectations: Panthers

[rowdydevs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔸𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝙽𝙷𝙻!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

❕Warnings Contain Spoilers ❕

warnings: rafe’s pov, reader’s pov, dark!rafe, possessive!rafe, obsessed!rafe, graphic violence, mentions of blood, rafe considers kidnapping the reader, rafe beats up his co-captain and ties him up, oral (male + female receiving), dark!reader, ownership kink, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, cum tasting

This is an ask from my baby starkeysbabygirl for dark NHL!Rafe 💋 thank you for your ask, hun!!! The premise is reporter!reader, Rafe’s ex, interviews him and the other captain ahead of Friday night's big game. Rafe can't help but see the spark between them, and he wants to let her know who she belongs to

Rafe’s POV:

The camera light flashes; a typical pre-game interview, but my heart is beating out of my chest. I lean back slightly, relaxing on my leather couch. My co-captain Nate laughs, elbowing me playfully, joking about something, but honestly, I can’t fuckin’ hear it.

My girl… Well, at least she was.

She’s stunning, polished, and professional. She glances at Nate, then me, her face unchanging, calm, and collected, completely detached as I’m losing my goddamn mind at the sight of her so close to me.

She adjusts the microphone clipped to her blouse… red. My favorite color, especially on her, and I can’t help but wonder if she remembers that.

It’s been six months since we broke up. Six long months, but each passing day only made my obsession worse. She had a jealous streak that drove me insane, questioning every woman I so much as glanced at from the ice. Blowing up my phone to the point of exhaustion on away games just in case I found someone else. I tried to reassure her I was loyal, but it was never enough. And that exhaustion I felt didn’t even begin to cover it. I was over it completely.

Eventually, I snapped. I told her I was over her and the drama, the fighting; I was done trying to convince her she was all I wanted. That day, I broke her—shattered her heart completely—and when she walked out the door, I told myself it was for the best.

Or, so I thought.

But the truth was she never really left… I started following her career from afar, curiosity getting the better of me. I selfishly wondered if she was as affected by our breakup as I was, but she wasn’t. That curiosity turned into something darker—something I didn’t even recognize myself.

She'd landed the gig at ESPN she’d been working for, climbing the ladder from short vlogs to TV interviews. Every interview, every appearance, every event—I consumed it all, taking what crumbs I could get. I even started showing up where I knew she would be, affairs I would have skipped before, all in an attempt to catch her eye, but I never did.

All I want is her. All I want is to be close to her. Tonight’s my fuckin’ night.

To her, it’s just some informal interview—a change from her regular rinkside report or studio sit down. But to me, it’s one step closer to getting her back; she’s sitting in my place, on my couch, sipping a glass of water from my cupboard. It’s like she’s coming home.

“Alright, gentleman,” y/n smiles, pulling me out of my mind. Her voice was honeyed and dripping with confidence. I shut my eyes, hanging my head momentarily, trying to collect myself as she continued. “The Winter Classic is one of the season's biggest games; the match-up is electric on its own. Fans are buzzing about the drama between you and the Kings. How are you both feeling tonight?”

My lips curl into a smile as she asks me a question; well, us—regardless, the attention had me feeling like I just snorted a line. Riding high off the attention I had been craving for for months. My fix finally met. “Excited,” I blurt out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as she cocks her eyebrow at me. “Focused… This is the kinda hockey you look forward to playin’.”

“Absolutely,” Nate adds, cutting in, stealing her focus from me in the process. Her gaze flickers to him, the corners of her perfect lips curling into a slight smile that I didn’t get. A sharp sting of jealousy stabs through my heart. My blunt fingernails dig into the armrests of my chair, trying to stay composed.

”And you, Rafe,” she sings as she looks back at me. Fuck… My pulse spikes as my name passes her lips for the first time in months. She hasn’t mentioned my name once in any interview, podcast, or vlog. "As one of the league's top performers, do you feel the pressure to lead your team tomorrow?”

I draw a deep breath, thankful that I hung on to her every word instead of focusing on the sound of her voice alone—like music to my fuckin’ ears. “Pressure is part of the gig. I’ve always thrived on it.”

She nods, living in my words for a moment. “Spoken like a true captain,” she praises. Her compliment hits me harder than it should’ve, but I can’t help but blush at her words.

The interview presses on as the tension between her and me simmers beneath the surface. Even Nate can tell, his eyes moving between us when her gaze hangs a little heavier on me.

And then, something shifts.

Her attention pivots to Nate; the scales of her focus weighing in his favor. My heart breaks with each smile, each glimmer in his and her eyes. I watch her fall through my finger again, right into his hands.

And Nate—that motherfucker—he’s eating it up, flirting shamelessly, and worse, she doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.

By the end of the interview, I had all but fallen apart. Nate stands up, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt as he looks at her from across the room, no doubt eye-fuckin’ the shit out of my girl. I sip my coffee, observing her from across the room as she packs up her equipment, leaving my place with a little wave, nothing more, nothing less.

“Fuck, she’s stunning,” Nate hums. “Do you have her number?”

“No,” I press the word past my lips. Drawing a deep breath, I roll out my neck, trying to let his comments go.

"It’s alright. She probably has an IG account or somethin’. I'll just slide into her DMs. Probably safer that way anyway," he says with a smug smile, looking over with a wink like he’s talking to a friend, but that ship has fuckin’ sailed.

My jaw clenches tight, and every muscle in my body twists tight. I can’t let him see how much he’s getting to me… His words make me feel like I could lose my last shred of sanity.

Nate walks toward the door, slipping on his jacket. He digs his phone out of his pocket, sliding his finger across the screen before looking up at me again. “How do you spell her first name again?”

She’s probably gone by now. My hear’s racing. What the fuck am I doing? My mind pinballs between a dozen possibilities. What if it’s too late? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? Do I take her? Take her, Rafe… What the fuck am I thinking? No… No. Talk to her? Yeah—Yeah, just talk. For now.

SCREECH.

She slams on the brakes as I stop her in the parking lot— thankful she parked in valet and not on the street, giving me a little extra time to get to her.

"Rafe?" She asks, her voice gentle and uneasy. “Are you ok-“

"Can we talk?" I cut her off with a breathless request, trying to sound calmer than I am as my heart pounds in my head.

She looks around the lot before turning her attention back to me. “… Sure.” She bends around, returning to the valet, before handing him her keys.

She walks toward me, doing nothing for my nerves as her jacket blows slightly with the breeze, the winter wind whipping her hair, making her look like a goddamn angel. My eyes stay locked on her, unblinking, not wanting to miss a moment as she clears the gap between us.

“What did you wanna talk about?”

"Upstairs…” I choke out. "Just for a drink."

We walk toward the elevator. The ride up is silent; tension between us, thick with unsaid words.

She walks into my apartment, stopping dead in her tracks.

The living room is wrecked. A lamp knocked onto the floor—glass shattered. Decorations are strewn and thrown to the floor. Sitting in the far corner of the room is Nate: tied to a chair, beaten face smeared with blood, his head hanging low.

She turns around, her trembling hand covering her lips, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Her gaze darts from mine to my hands. Shit… I look down, catching the blood; my knuckles split and broken.

“Y/n,” I start, and just as I do, her hand falls—from her smile.

She walks toward me, slow and deliberate, as my heart swells. Her heels click against the marble floor as she gets closer and closer. "Rafe," she hums, looking up at me through her lashes. "You did this for me?"

I draw a deep breath, looking down at her before me, completely overwhelmed. I don't know what reaction I was expecting or what thoughts went through my mind when I brought her back here, but a part of me knew this was what she wanted.

“I hated the way he was talkin’ to you,” I whisper.

She looks over her shoulder, taking in the chaos silently. Every piece of broken glass and a crimson streak of blood was just a reminder of how far I’d go, and still, for me, it was not enough. “I can't believe you did this for me,” she says the words weakly as a tear tumbles down her cheek.

“I’d do worse if it meant keeping you.”

She bites her lips, holding back her emotions. My stomach flutters as her hands slip into mine. “I missed you, Rafe. I think about you all the time,” she smiles.

“I can’t tell you how much I missed you… I’m sorry for following you—”

“I wanted you to,” she assures, giving me the answer I was hoping for.

"You started this career to be closer to me," I ask as I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her into me, my voice slow and steady, “didn't you?" She takes a little breath, looking down at the space between us, smiling before looking back up at me, nodding ‘yes.’

"I was hoping we’d run into each other and I’d get to apologize for how I acted-”

"Stop," I interrupt, my voice hoarse and broken with feelings. "I don't care about that shit. I’ve been messed up since the day you left."

Her eyes blink as she looks up at me lovingly. I cup her cheeks in her hands, brushing away her tears with my thumbs. "You're mine," I whisper. "No one else's. Say it.”

"I'm yours," she breathes. I look out of the corner of my eye, watching Nate struggle against the binds, breaking up our moment, making my blood boil.

“Let me go take care of him. Yeah?” I rasp, and she smiles.

I step toward him slowly as he battles even harder, that cockiness that he had in the interview stripped away. “Rafe—Rafe… I don't know what the fuck is goin’ on, man. Just let me go.”

I kneel beside him, looking him in his eyes, ensuring he hears every word. “Nate… You fucked up, man,” I chide. “You pushed me… And if you do it again, you’ll find out just how far I can go, bitch. This is nothing…”

“I didn’t know, Rafe. Fuck—I didn’t know you were together,” he rambles as blood trickles out of the corner of his lips.

“You couldn’t feel it? Bullshit. I know you saw it. Stop fuckin’ lyin’ to me,” I hiss. “And you… What if Ally found out you were about to slip in my girl's DMs, huh?” I ask, my voice low and lethal. “What if your wife found out about that little Instagram model in Montreal? One word to her, and you’re done.”

Nate shakes his head ‘no’ fast, his bruised eyes pinched shut. “I’m not gonna say shit!” He huffs.

The second I untie him, he’s scrambling toward the door. A wicked smile twists on her lips as she looks back at me, hanging onto every word I said to him, the threats leaving my tongue nothing but foreplay to her. She turns on her heels, beckoning me with her dark gaze.

Y/n smiles at me, biting her lip as she looks down at the floor. My Boston College jersey lies in a pile of glass; the collectible frame knocked off the wall in the fight. She bends down, picking it up, giving it a few shakes before disappearing into my dark room.

I smile to myself, giving her a moment. I know what she’s gonna do. That’s my girl.

Walking toward my bedroom, I follow the trail of discarded clothes: her jacket, skirt, and that satin blouse I wanted to tear off, but this is so much better. I chuckle sleazily as I see her pretty red bra on the floor, my eyes lifting to my bed, seeing her sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, waiting for me.

Before I can even ask, she’s on her knees, crawling slowly toward me. My eyes roll back seeing her like this… Like a goddamn dream. I rip off the buttons of my shirt, tearing it off my shoulders as she kneels before me, pawing for my belt, tugging my pants around my ankles.

I wrap my fist around her hair, pulling after gaze away from my cock to my eyes. “C’mon, pretty… I remember what this mouth can do,” I mumble as my thumb brushes along her bottom lip.

She lays out her tongue, and I slap my tip against it, moaning at the contact. She wraps her lips around me, eyes fluttering shut like it’s all she needs. The vibrations of her pleasured sounds about sends me. I use the hold on her head to pull her into me, watching tears spring in the corners of her eyes again as my fat tip kisses the back of her throat.

Reader’s POV:

“Atta girl,” Rafe hums, his praise only fueling your frenzy. You bob up and down on his long cock as he guides your strokes. “You like that shit?” He breathes a sigh of relief as he watches you work his dick in your mouth.

“Suckin’ my dick with my name on your shoulders, princess… You know how many times I’ve thought about this? Fuckin’ dream girl,” he groans hazily between thrusts.

Rafe blows out a breath as you release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a grunt for more, almost instantly eased by your fist, jerking him off. You can feel your wetness, trickling from your pussy, seeping down your inner thigh. "I can't wait to fuck you, princess."

You moan, feeling the weight of him on your tongue, Rafe’s precum swirling with your saliva, making your arousal pool in your panties. You lift his jersey slightly, giving him a glimpse of your round ass, a tiny number two embroidered on the back of your thong.

“Fuckkk,” he groans at the sight, tossing his head back; the salty taste of his precum intensifies as he cum in thick ropes, painting your throat. You wrap your hands around his body, nails scratching down his thigh, making his muscles clench.

Rafe’s cock throbs on your tongue, blood pumping in his shaft as you cup his balls in your hands, rolling slowly, not wanting him out of your mouth just yet.

“Co’mere,” he breathes as he helps you to your feet, pulling you to his lips. He kisses you deeply, walking back with you to his large bed, pushing you down before mounting you fast. “These panties… You fuckin’ kidding me,” he mutters against your lips as his thick fingers shove the satin aside, running up your soaked slit.

You start to rock with his thrusts as Rafe swallows your moans. He pulls away, pushing his fingers between his lips, sucking off your wetness, looking down at you underneath him.

“Hands and knees, princess,” he smiles.

Before you can comply, he grips your hips, flipping you over. You arch your back for him, and he grabs your ass, circling his hands before spanking you once, then twice.

He squeezes your curves, pulling you apart slightly, running his tongue from your clit to your entrance. You whimper as his fingers press against your aching pearl, tongue pushing into your soaked hole.

Rafe swirls his tongue and fingers with precision, eating you out from the back, moaning into your cunt as he laps up your arousal. His free hand tugs your panties to the side, using the hold to pull your warmth closer to his face, the man drowning in pussy.

”Rafe… Fuck. I’m close,” you whimper.

"Cum for me," he whispers between tongue flicks. You cum fast and hard, fluttering as your pleasure courses through your veins.

Before you can even come down from your high, he sinks into you, making you cry out, sliding into your sloppy core until his hips nudge your ass. He grabs your body, pushing his cock even further, making you bury your face in the comforter.

“Oh my god. Shittt,” he grunts as he circles his hips, his voice deep and dripping with sin. You lift your head as he pulls almost out, fucking back into your fast. “Tell me whose pussy this is, baby. Fuckin’ tell me…”

“Yours, baby,” you squeal, body shivering at the feeling of him buried to the hilt.

“That’s right…” He mumbles as he pushes the jersey up your back.

He rolls and snaps his hips into you, making the fat of your ass recoil with each thrust. He grabs your curves in his hands, spreading you wider, watching the way his thick dick gets swallowed up, wet, and sticky with your slickness.

He builds up to a punishing pace; the sounds of your wet skin slapping against each other fill his room. His fingers dig into your supple flesh as you start to meet him thrust for thrust, gasping as he hits that special spot, your heart rate frantic—your body desperate to cum around his big cock.

Rafe’s movements get a little rougher, his pace quickening. “Mpfhh… You’re gonna cum?” He groans, desperation clinging to his tone as he tries to hold back his pleasure. “Been thinkin’ about that feelin’ for six fuckin’ months,” he mumbles. “I know you are. Cum on my dick, princess… I need it—Fuck. I need it,” your eyes roll back in your head as your pleasure surges through you, crashing over you like a wave.

“Rafe, fuck-”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Rafe pants, answering your cries as he throws his hips. “I’m gonna fill up this tight cunt. I want you dripping out of me tomorrow.” He reaches for you, pulling you back to his chest, pressing his face against your cheeks. “You’ll always remember who owns this pussy.”

Rafe’s body tightens as he grabs your face, pressing his lips against yours. “You're mine,” he whispers against your mouth as his body shudders, filling you with his heavy load.

His tongue slips between your lips as he rocks his hip, smiling through panting breaths, pushing his cum deeper and deeper. Tears of pleasure and happiness roll down your cheeks as he keeps you standing, your legs feeling like they could give way at any second. Rafe chuckles darkly, letting out a satisfied sigh at his cockdrunk girl. “Say it, baby…”

“I’m yours.”

[intheupside]

Alexander Ovechkin must come down, but the space beneath him expands with each leap. He bounces higher and higher — hanging in mid-air for several moments longer — as physics grapples with his ascent. The tiny trampoline creaks and bows to the graybeard captain of the Washington Capitals, until he slowly eases to short hops, finally committing to earth.

It’s 90 minutes before the Eastern Conference-leading Capitals will attempt to become the first team to clinch a spot in the 2025 Stanley Cup playoffs. To everyone beyond the Capitals locker room, that accomplishment will be a sidenote. Soon, Ovechkin will become the greatest scorer in NHL history, breaking Wayne Gretzky’s record of 894 regular-season goals.

When Ovechkin gets to the bench and collapses forward, he rests his arms on the boards and huffs and huffs. He hunches lower and longer than the players who line the bench beside him. During a timeout, the greatest scorer in NHL history drinks Coke from a black water bottle, marked with white tape.

On his 36th birthday, Ovechkin wore suburban dad apparel — knee-length khaki shorts, brown belt and tucked-in black polo shirt — to an EDM music festival, where he emptied his pockets and handed his keys and wallet and phone to his wife as she shook her head. He waded through a pulsing crowd and climbed on stage, where a member of the Lost Kings, a popular DJ duo, had everyone wish him a happy birthday. Ovechkin then hoisted him over his shoulders and carried him like the Stanley Cup.

A man of routine and comfort, Ovechkin often takes his family to Cafe Milano, an Italian establishment in Georgetown that caters to a who’s-who of the D.C. political establishment and passing professional athletes. Ovechkin texts the restaurant’s head maitre d’ to let him know that he is coming in. The staff then quickly prepares the regular: grilled calamari, Burrata, a couple of bowls of pasta bolognese, branzino, and a bucket of cold Peroni.

Ovechkin belies the modern conventions of a professional athlete’s diet and fitness regimen. Images of him clutching Subway sandwiches and a bag of Cheetos before a game have gone viral. When Brooks Laich posted an image on Instagram of vegetables he planned to blend into an organic juice, Ovechkin suggested that he add beer and Russian vodka to the mix.

Ovechkin’s longevity in the NHL — almost 1,500 games — baffles his colleagues.

“He does the same thing now that he did 15 years ago,” says Nicklas Backstrom, the Capitals’ all-time assists leader who played beside Ovechkin for 17 seasons.

Evgeni Malkin, who was drafted second overall the same year as his countryman, marvels at Ovechkin’s ability to have fun, eating what he wants and rejecting the dedicated training routines most pro athletes require.

“His body is amazing. People talk about his weight all the time, but he doesn’t care,” Malkin says. “He plays video games.”

A contradiction on skates.

As a player, as a person, he was like no Russian who had come before him.

“Alex is very influential. He’s always looking for goals. He has confidence he will score on every shift. This is a little unusual for a Russian player,” says Pavel Datsyuk, the two-time Stanley Cup champion and former captain of the Russian men’s national team. “It is not just the way he plays, but his approach — the yellow laces, the tinted visor.”

He scored two goals in first NHL game. He scored 52 that rookie year. And with each, his spirited celebrations irked the game’s staid establishment. He was absolutely unapologetic. As long as he played hockey, he said, he planned to win every trophy he could.

During his first trip to Manhattan, he dragged his roommate Brian Willsie to Dolce & Gabbana, beaming like a child in a toy store. He was uncomfortable ordering meals in English and carried a dictionary with him through that first season, circling new words each day and asking the team’s training staff for translations.

He ordered sundaes to his hotel room after games, scarfing them down while watching hockey highlights on TV.

Over two decades, Ovechkin’s force of play and personality made fans of some of his greatest rivals. Crosby has marveled at his unrelenting pace and says if he had a shot like Ovechkin’s he probably wouldn’t have passed the puck as much as he has.

from the athletic’s piece on ovi’s chase

[grantmentis]

PWHL 2024-2025 Primer

It's that time of year again folks. PWHL starts on November 30th.

The sections of this primer are: What is the PWHL, Where can I watch, Rules/League Structure, Official league pages, journalists to follow, and an introduction to each team (what they did last year, who's on the team, notable players, you should root for them if you..)

What is the PWHL?

The Professional Women's Hockey League was created in 2023 and launched in January 2024. It is currently the sole professional women's hockey league in North America.

Heading into the 2024-2025 season, the PWHL has six teams: The Toronto Sceptres, Boston Fleet, Minnesota Frost, New York Sires, Montréal Victoire, and Ottawa Charge. Each team plays 30 regular season games per team. You can find the full season schedule here.

Where can I watch?

Disclaimer; We don't have an official 100% confirmation on the American and non-North American ones yet, just reports from journalists who I do deem trustworthy. I will edit any changes and highlight them in bold if necessary.

On Television/Streaming

Canadian fans will have games on TSN and its affiliates (such as TSN+) primarily, with select games on CBC and Prime video.

French broadcasts of Montreal games can be found on RDS (18), Radio-Canada (6) on ICI TÉLÉ and ICI TOU.TV

Full streaming/television schedule for Canada

All fans not in Canada are available to stream on the PWHL Youtube regardless of location (so if you're "in market" there's no black outs like there is NHL games)

Last year regional games were held on: Bally Sports North in Minnesota, NESN/NESN+ in Boston, MSG/MSG+ in New York, Sportnet Pittsburgh has carried select games. Not 100% confirmed this will be the case last year. Even if your regional sports network carries it, however, you should be able to access it on Youtube in America

In Person

Toronto and New York (sort of) have new locations this year

Toronto Scepters play at Coca-Cola Coliseum

Ottawa Charge play at TD Place

Montréal Victoire play at Place Bell

Boston Fleet play at Tsongas Center (Lowell, MA)

Minnesota Frost play at Xcel Energy Center

New York Sirens will play at Prudential Center (Newark, NJ)

There are also many neutral site games this year including Detroit, Quebec City, Raleigh, Vancouver, Denver, Buffalo, St. Louis, and Seattle that you can read about here

What are the rules? The League Structures?

Who makes the playoffs and what do they look like?

Please keep in mind that with such a young league, it's possible this will be tinkered with.

Each game is worth three points: 3 for a regulation win, 2 for an overtime win, and 1 for an overtime loss

Last year, the PWHL had 4 of the 6 teams make the playoffs. The number one seed got to choose their opponent between the third and fourth seed.

All series were best of five series, the two semi finals and then the finals.

Rules

If you are an NHL fan looking to jump in, here are the differences in the PWHL. The rulebook is also here.

Bodychecking is allowed in the PWHL, so long as it is done in an attempt to play the puck or gain possession. While women's hockey has always been physical, bodychecking at this level is fairly new, the SDHL in Sweden started to allow it just in 2021 and then the PWHL last year, so refs and players are adjusting in how they're going to draw the line between legal and illegal. This is also not the case in international competition, so it is a little different than the olympics or worlds if you are used to watching those.

The PWHL has a "jailbreak rule" which means that if you are shorthanded and score, the penalty ends.

In shootouts, a player can go as many times as they'd like.

New this year is the "No Escape" rule where players of a penalized team are required to stay on the ice to start the penalty kill.

Coaches can challenge delay of game puck over glass penalties.

Hits to the head, headbutting, and grabbing an opponents helmet strap, throat protector, or hair is an automatic major penalty and game misconduct.

What are the official social media pages? Who are good people to follow?

Official league pages:

PWHL: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

There's also a unofficial bluesky bot that re-posts all of the PWHL X content

Sceptres: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

Fleet: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

Victoire: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

Frost: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

Sirens: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

Charge: Instagram / Twitter / Tiktok / Youtube / Website

News and Journalists:

This is not a comprehensive list, just a starter pack! feel free to add any recommendations in the comments.

Kyle Cushman: Works for the score, covers the whole league (as well as some nhl), keeps public statistical information. The Score author page / Twitter / Bluesky

The Ice Garden: Long time women's hockey publication. I'd also recommend going through their contributor/author page and following them individually! Website / Twitter / Bluesky

Hailey Salvian: Long time reporter for the Athletic for women's hockey Twitter

Kenzie Lalonde: TSN reporter based in Montreal covering PWHL among others, also does play by play Twitter

Rick Menning: Local reporter for the Sirens Twitter

Kelsea Durham: Local reporter for the Boston Fleet for Inside the Rink Linktree

Christine Roger: French-Canadian reporter, who posts in French, mainly about Montreal Twitter

PWHL Report: Content aggregator for if you don't want to follow a bunch individually and really the only one i've seen post stuff to Instagram Twitter / Instagram

Who are the Boston Fleet?

The Boston Fleet were last years runner up in the league.

Their roster can be viewed here, with updates to be expected in the next few days as training camp cuts and contract being signed, the waiver period starting for teams to sign players that got cut from other teams training camps, and final rosters are made.

Notable players: Hilary Knight (captain), Aerin Frankel (Star goalie), Alina Müller (Swiss hockey star), Hannah Bilka (first round pick this last draft.)

You should root for this team if: You like defense-first hockey, strong New England college hockey connections, rooting for the youngest ice hockey player to win an olympic medal (Alina Müller), a player who got a custom outfit for pride night (Jamie Lee Rattray), Jewish hockey icons (Aerin Fankel), and players who are also podcasters and make a lot of tiktoks (Lexi Adzija and Taylor Girard)

Who are the Montréal Victoire?

The Montréal Victoire finished second in the standings last year, where

Live roster viewable here with expected updates the next few days

Notable players: Marie Philip-Poulin, Laura Stacey, Erin Ambrose, Ann-Renée Desbiens (all four are long time Team Canada legends), Lina Ljungblom (young Swedish superstar), Mikyla Grant Mentis and Kennedy Marchmand (both former PHF MVPs)

You should root for this team if: You love two way defensive minded centers, rooting for the league favorite, star players who are married to each other (Poulin and Stacey), short defenders (5'1 Amanda Boulier and 5'2 Cayla Barnes), post game victory dances, I dont even know how to describe this but heres grant mentis and Lásková watching golf i have to put it here

Who are the Toronto Sceptres?

The Sceptres were the first place team in the PWHL last year.

Roster here, once again will change this week

Notable players: Natalie Spooner (league MVP and long time team Canada player), Sarah Nurse (Olympic record holder for points and top scorer), Julia Gosling (first round pick), CJ Jackson (backup goaltender, social media darling, and LGBT activist), Renata Fast (top defender for both PWHL and Team Canada)

You should root for this team if you: love all the Team Canada players who grew up outside Quebec and also the coaches (all but three players are Canadian and many have played internationally for Canada, the coaching/management also largely from team canada and shares stylistic similarities), are interested in Nursey Nights (Sarah Nurse's collaboration with Black Girl Hockey Club during Toronto Sceptres games!), want to root for the other league favorites, love noted pancake enthusiasts (Kali Flanagan), or if you're more on the savory side, love a hot dog enthusiast (CJ)

Who are the Ottawa Charge?

The Ottawa Charge finished fifth in the league last season

Roster here with updates to come

Notable players: Brianne Jenner (team Canada and captain of Ottawa), Emily Clark (top scorer), Kateřina Mrázová (top scorer and Czech national team icon), Danielle Serdachny (second overall pick), Ronja Savolainen (Finnish national team mainstay and SDHL icon)

You should root for this team if you: Have an interest in Czech players (Mrázová, Vanišová, Tejralová), you like podcasting players (but gay this time), enjoy a team that regularly updates their youtube channel and does a fan fest and has some of the best player created content, like a team that is not afraid to make bold roster moves

Who are the Minnesota Frost?

The Minnesota Frost are your inaugural PWHL champions!

Here is a live, updating roster

Notable players: Kendall Coyne (Captain, Team USA), Taylor Heise (last years #1 overall pick and one of the leagues scorer), Grace Zumwinkle (also a top scorer), Nicole Hensley (star goalie and also Team USA starting goaltender typically), Michela Cava (extensive experience as top player in PHF, SDHL, and Russia.)

You should root for this team if you: Have a lot of midwest pride and like teams in the WCHA, value speed when watching hockey, like players with unconventional paths to stardom (Hensley, who played at Lindenwood in college and made team USA only after college finished), want to root for the ultimate playoff sicko (Michela Cava, who has 4 championships across four leagues, two finals MVPs, and is over a point per game combining all playoffs), like franchise cornerstones who are besties and call each other 'the dog to their cat" and vice versa (Heise and Zumwinkle)

Who are the New York Sirens?

The New York Sirens finished last in the PWHL last year

Roster with updates to come

Notable players: Abby Roque, Alex Carpenter (both team usa and PWHL top scorers), Corinne Schroeder (had the best goaltending season in PHF history in 2023 and followed it up by having one of the best PWHL seasons despite a tough workload), Sarah Fillier (first overall pick this year, team Canada star), Maja Nylén Persson (round two pick, SDHL best defender of the year last year, team Sweden's #1 defender), Noora Tulus (finnish national team star and one of the best SDHL players of all time.)

You should root for this team if you: want to see a team really build itself up from the ground floor, as theres a lot of roster turnover this year and a new coaching staff, with a lot of exciting draftees. like a team that has a little more physicality/grit. want to maximize the number of crossovers with other professional sports teams possible, like the nickname pizza rats. Want to enjoy some of the best mic'd up content (Roque)

[lukesvangelista]

𝐈’𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑, 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 qʰ⁴³, ʲʰ⁸⁶, ˡʰ⁴³

in which y/n hughes holds her ground during a post-game press conference.

warnings; misogyny, sexism

You were used to pressure. You had grown up in a hockey family, the youngest sibling to Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes - all hockey prodigies in their own right. But you were special in a different way. Not only had you followed in your brothers’ footsteps, but you had also carved your own path. As the youngest player on the New Jersey Devils and the only female to play in regular season games in the NHL, you had shattered expectations and defied norms. Every day was a new challenge, a new test of strength and resiliency.

You sat down in the media room, your hair still wet from your post-game shower. Luke sat next to you, his steady presence evident. His usual relaxed demeanor was tight with anticipation. He knew the media could be unforgiving, and today, they were sure to focus more on his little sister’s family connections and gender more than her skill on the ice.

He wasn’t wrong.

But today’s press conference was different. It had started off routine enough, with Luke by your side, both of you handling the usual questions about their season, the team’s progress, and your guys’ sibling bond. As always, Luke was your biggest supporter, offering sarcastic quips to ease the tension and standing by you when the questions got more intense. He was the perfect teammate, both on and off the ice. The two of you were used to this routine, and the atmosphere in the room was mostly positive. But as the press conference wore on, you began to notice an unsettling shift, practically out of nowhere.

Toward the back of the room, a reporter stood up—a man you hadn’t noticed before. His appearance was unremarkable, but something about the way he carried himself set off alarm bells in your mind. He didn’t smile or make small talk with the other reporters. He just stood there, waiting for his turn with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

Finally, he was called on.

���Y/N,” he began, his voice flat, almost bored, “there’s been a lot of talk about you being the first woman in the NHL, breaking barriers, all that. But if we’re being honest, do you really think you belong here? I mean, look at you. You’re a distraction. You’re on the ice surrounded by guys, traveling with them, sharing locker rooms—how long do you think it’ll take before your ‘real’ purpose becomes obvious? We all know that women like you don’t last in leagues like this unless they use what they have, if you know what I mean. Are you just waiting for the moment when being the ‘team girl’ turns into something more… useful?”

The air in the room froze, thick with shock and disgust.

Your mind blanked for a second, as if the words hadn’t fully registered. But when they did, it felt like a physical blow—like you had been hit with something sharp and ugly, aimed straight at the core of your being. Your entire body tensed, your pulse pounding in your ears. Every eye in the room was on you, waiting to see what you would do.

Next to you, Luke’s face turned pale for a split second before the fury set in. His mouth tightened, and his hands clenched into fists on the table, trembling with rage. “What the hell did you just say?” His voice was low, barely restrained, vibrating with an anger you had rarely seen from him. With him being the tamer of your brothers, you couldn’t imagine how Jack was reacting back in the locker room. Or how Quinn would when he would get the opportunity to see the clip after his game.

The room, which had been filled with the steady clicking of cameras and murmured side conversations just moments ago, was now deathly silent. No one could believe what they had just heard. A few reporters shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging horrified glances. Even the other women in the room seemed too stunned to speak.

The reporter remained stone-faced, as if he had merely asked you a normal question, something innocent. His eyes stayed locked on you, waiting for a reaction.

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in her chest. Your hand gripped Luke’s under the table. You knew you couldn’t let him get away with this. You couldn’t let him—or anyone else—see you break. You had worked too hard, fought through too much, to let this kind of filth destroy you.

You leaned forward, locking eyes with the reporter, your voice deadly calm despite the storm brewing inside of you. “I’m going to give you one chance to take that back.”

The reporter raised an eyebrow, almost as if he were amused. “Take what back? It’s a fair question. I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. You’re the only woman on a men’s team, in a men’s league. We all know what’s going to happen eventually. You’re not here because you belong. You’re here because you’re a novelty.”

Luke’s chair scraped against the floor as he abruptly stood, towering over the table, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “What the hell did you just say?!” he spat, his voice shaking with fury. “You think you can come in here and talk to her like that? She’s ten times the player you’ll ever understand, and she’s earned her place here. You don’t deserve to even breathe the same air.”

The room was crackling with tension, reporters frozen in disbelief as Luke glared at the man who had dared to demean his sister.

You placed a hand on Luke’s arm, urging him to sit back down. You weren’t done yet. You turned back to the reporter, your expression hard and cold. “You want to know why I’m here?” you asked, your voice gaining strength with every word. “I’m here because I earned it. Because I’ve trained every day of my life for this. Because I’ve put in the work, fought through injuries, setbacks, and people like you who think I don’t belong. And guess what? I’m still standing. I’m not going anywhere. You can throw whatever garbage you want at me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m here because I’m one of the best.”

Your words echoed in the room, and a murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Several reporters nodded, their faces still tight with outrage. A female reporter in the front row stood up, her voice cutting through the tension. “That was one of the most disgusting questions I’ve ever heard. It’s people like you who give journalism a bad name. Y/N is here because she’s a damn good hockey player, and the fact that you think it’s appropriate to ask a question like that is appalling.”

Another voice chimed in, then another, until the room was filled with reporters condemning the question and defending you. The atmosphere had shifted, turning against the man who had dared to degrade you. He shrank back in his seat, looking around as if realizing, too late, that he had crossed a line no one would forgive.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you sat back in your chair, though your body was still tense. You glanced at Luke, who was still visibly seething but calmer now that the room had rallied behind you. He gave you a small nod, a silent show of support.

The press conference was quickly adjourned, the tension too thick to continue. As you and Luke made your way out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—anger, exhaustion, but also pride. You had stood up for yourself. You had fought back. And even though the battle wasn’t over, you knew one thing for sure.

No one—especially not a misogynistic reporter with a chip on his shoulder—would ever take away your place in this league. You had earned it, and you would keep proving it, every single day.

Despite your knowledge of that fact, you were still incredibly shaken up. Luke wrapped a protective arm around you as the two of you walked back to the locker room. Right as you were about to enter the locker room, you turned towards him, “I’m going to find a quiet place so it for a bit. I’ll call you when I’m ready to go home.”

Luke furrowed his brow in concern, but removed his arm from around you, “Will you be okay?”

You nodded softly, “Yeah. Just hold off Jack for a bit, okay?”

Luke was about to reply, but you didn’t give him the chance to. You rushed down the hallway and managed to find an empty nook in the middle of it, thanking the gods above that you had found something. As soon as you had slid down the wall, the weight of the situation came crashing down on you. Your heart raced, but you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head — how you fumbled your answer, the prying looks, and the pressure to always say the right thing.

You pressed your back further into the wall, your hands trembling as you brought them to your face, trying to steady your breathing. The vulnerability of being under a spotlight felt overwhelming, and you wondered if anyone else saw how rattled you were.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching. A familiar voice - Jack - called out to you, soft and concerned. You looked up to find him rushing towards you, an exhausted and concerned Luke trailing behind him. The latter shot you a look in hopes you would understand how hard he tried to stop your guys’ older brother, “Y/N! Are you okay?”

You looked up, your eyes glistening, and forced a smile, “Yeah… I’m fine.”

But Jack knew better, stepping closer and wrapping you in a hug. For a moment, you let yourself sink into the embrace, the warmth and safety of your brother’s presence helping to soothe the storm inside of you.

“I just… it’s a lot sometimes,” you whispered, your voice shaking, “I don’t know if I’m doing this right.”

“You’re doing great,” Jack reassured you, pulling back to look at you in the eyes.

Luke came over and sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around you, “You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Y/N/N.”

You nod, but the doubt still lingered, and you know it’ll take more than just a few words to push it away. Still, in this moment, you’re grateful for the support - and for the reminder that you don’t have to face everything alone.

You leaned into Luke’s side, your voice still small, “I just wanna go home.”

Both of your brothers nodded, not even bothering to go and change back into their suits. You didn’t bother with it, either. The three of you might get scolded for it later, but at this moment, it didn’t matter to any of you. Luke stayed with you as Jack re-entered the locker room to grab all of your guys’ stuff so you could leave.

The walk to the car was quiet. The drive out of the parking lot was silent. Fans lined the entrance, but they had enough common sense to not approach your car after what had just happened. You sat in the back with Luke, your face resting against the window so you wouldn’t have to face either of your brothers. At least, not right now. You knew Quinn would come calling later, and you’d all sit down and talk with each other.

When the three of you arrived back at your guys’ apartment, Luke ushered you to the couch. He tossed you the remote, urging you to pick out a movie while he grabbed a multitude of pillows and blankets. Jack stayed behind in the kitchen, dropping all of your stuff on the floor by the door and ordering takeout from your favorite restaurant. He didn’t even ask what you wanted. It was a brother thing - all of them knew your favorite.

You scrolled through Netflix for awhile, eventually deciding on the Minions movie. It wasn’t your favorite of all time, but it was mindless enough to the point where you’d be able to keep your mind off of what had happened. Luke sat down next to you, chuckling softly to himself when he saw your choice. He knew it was one of your guilty pleasures.

Your eyes focused on the TV as Jack finally made his way over. He opened his mouth to object when he saw the movie across the TV screen, but Luke turned around and shot him a look, warning him not to say anything. Jack obeyed and sat down on the other side of you, successfully squishing you between your brothers - a Hughes sandwich, as they liked to say.

While the three of you waited for the food to arrive, Luke objectively decided that it would be best to FaceTime Quinn. He knew that the Canucks game was over, so he knew that Quinn would be free. All your brothers loved you more than you would ever know, but Luke had a soft spot for you. It was always Jack and Quinn, and you and Luke.

Luke knew how much you missed Quinn. He had seen the way you struggled when your oldest brother went off to UMICH, let alone Vancouver.

“Hey, how’s it going, kid?” Quinn’s voice came through, his face popping up on the phone screen with a warm smile.

You look over to Luke’s phone, unaware that he had called Quinn. When you realized, you offered a small but sad smile, sighing but feeling a little lighter now that the four of you were together, “Better now, I think.”

“Good,” Quinn nods, and there’s a protective tone in his voice, though he doesn’t press you about what happened. Instead, he changes the subject. “So, what are we watching?”

“Minions,” Jack and Luke answer in unison. This time, both of Luke and Jack shot Quinn a look like, you better not say anything.

Quinn raised an eyebrow but laughed. “Of course. Anything for Y/N/N.”

You all settle in as the movie continued. You curled up between Luke and Jack once again, and Quinn was propped up on FaceTime in front of you. The room was filled with laughter as the absurdity of the Minions did its job, and for the first time since the incident, you feel a little lighter.

The food arrived, and you dig in, the familiar taste of your favorite takeout adding another layer of comfort to the late night. Every now and then, Jack cracked a dumb joke, trying to get you to laugh, and by the end of the movie, you felt a lot more like yourself.

As the credits rolled, Quinn, still on FaceTime, shot you a soft smile. “Feeling better?”

But there’s no response from you. Instead, your head was leaning against Luke’s shoulder, and your eyes were fluttered shut. Jack moved gently to drape a blanket over the two you.

On the other end of the line, Quinn let out a quiet laugh, “There’s no way you’re moving tonight, Lukey.”

Jack joined in with the laughter, but Luke just smiled down at you. If this helped you feel better, he would stay with you as long as you needed him to. In fact, as he always liked to say, he would drop everything for you.

He looked back over to Jack, who was now holding his phone with Quinn on the other end, “Yeah, but we did good.” he said, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

It was true - they did good.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

all hail the hockey peter queeeeeen 👑👑 seriously your stuff is so good and has been cheering me up these days :)) maybe peter and bug go to an NHL game or something like that? or hanging out at home watching a game? whatever you’re feeling :) ily and appreciate you!!

Score!

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 1.2k

✰ summary: treating peter with hockey tickets for his birthday makes him very grateful for you, and he'd love to show you.

✰ warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, kisses, some tension that's sexual, mention of a boner LOL.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ college!hockey!peter parker m.list

gif by @dailytvfilmgifs

Entering a building and it being colder than the temperature outside was something you found yourself getting used to. Especially when you had the pleasure of walking into a professional stadium with Peter by your side. 

You were able to score two really good tickets for the last game before playoff season, just in time for Peter’s birthday. It was easy to persuade him to miss a practice. All it took was you waving the tickets in his face before he tackled you for them and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips.

The atmosphere at Peter’s games was always exciting. The fan’s cheers echoed through the building, even carrying out towards the front doors. But this? This was on an entirely new level. 

Taking your seats, the lights began to dim before the ice lit up with colorful lights. An uproar of cheers and commotion flood your senses as a video showcasing the players appears on the screen above. 

Looking over to your right at the brunette next to you, a big wide smile appears on his face as the light reflects off of his irises. You can’t help but stare at him. He must’ve noticed after the main lights came back on, “What are you staring at?”

“Your big ugly face,” you chuckle. 

He kisses his teeth as he tries to cover up his smile, his arm coming around you to pull you closer to his side. 

Before you both realize it, the game begins. Players meet at center ice to wait for the puck drop, and as soon as it does, fans clap and sit back down. Your seats gave you an optimal view of the ice. You were still on the first level at the corner of the rink, a row away from the glass. 

Of course, you’ve watched games with Peter before, but that was all on the couch at your apartment. Seeing him immersed in the game that was directly in front of him was a whole new experience. His eyes are darting back and forth as he watches the players skate. If there was a special move he noticed, he made sure to lean over and whisper the technique and training they used to learn how to do it. He was geeking out, and you loved it. 

After a scoreless first period, you could tell Peter was getting antsy in his seat. All it took was a goal to happen right in front of him for the both of you to jump up in excitement and get his confidence back. He started to hi-five the people around him before sitting back down as the game continued. 

A few power plays later, and the second period has come to an end. Standing up, he fixes his jersey and asks, “Wanna get something to eat? I know you haven’t eaten since your granola bar this morning, and I wouldn’t even consider that a meal.” 

You nod before standing up and climbing the stairs back to the concessions. The moment you stepped out, you noticed how rowdy the crowd had become. Since it was the last game of the regular season, tensions were high, and the postseason always carried that energy. 

Weaving in and out of crowds was becoming more difficult and Peter noticed as he decided to move you to the front of him instead of you dragging behind him. When you finally decided on a place, you grabbed your food and drinks before carefully returning to your section. 

The sense of relief that washed over you felt nice as you made it back to the seats, five minutes remaining before the start of the third and final period. Taking a sip of his beer, Peter sighs. You notice and immediately turn your attention to him, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m just happy,” he smiles again before taking another sip, “thank you for this. It means a lot.” 

You wipe the foam mustache he gave himself before pecking him on the lips, “Happy birthday, Petey.” 

He doesn’t say anything in return, he just holds your hand; and to you, that’s enough. 

The third period flew by, as the final score was two to zero. It's the perfect way to end the regular season. Everyone stood and cheered as the clock counted down to zero and the buzzer signaled the end of the game. Maybe it was because Peter was a beer and half deep, but he wasted no time in pulling you in for the biggest bear hug of your life. 

He fully pulled you off your feet and pressed a kiss into the top of your head. He held you there for quite some time, and it made you wonder where all this strength came from.

You had no time to waste as he led you up the stairs and out the doors before starting your walk to the car. Peter’s hand was on your lower back the entire ten-minute speed walk back to the parking lot. 

Once you’ve made it to the door, you throw your bag in the back and sit in the driver's seat, buckling in and ready to go before Peter grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss. He’s needy tonight. 

The kiss is passionate and probably a bit much for being out in public still, but you don’t mind. You remember a time when Peter never gave you any type of affection outside of closed doors, so experiencing this isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

His hands move down to your waist, his fingers making their way under your shirt, his touch giving you goosebumps. He feels you shiver, causing a light moan to leave his lips. That only made you deepen the kiss, sparks shooting up your body. 

Peter’s kiss starts to move towards your chin and neck before a loud horn makes you jump. You look around, realizing that you’re still very much in the stadium’s parking lot before laughing. “We should probably go home,” you sigh as you reach for your seatbelt next to you and buckle yourself in. 

A sigh is heard from beside you as he also buckles up, his eyes never leaving your frame even as you begin to drive off. Maneuvering out of the busy streets, you finally make it to the highway, allowing you to relax. It wasn’t long before you felt a hand make its way to your thigh. Peter starts to move his hand up and down your leg, occasionally giving the muscle there a squeeze. 

He runs a hand through his hair as he speaks for the first time since the game, “For God's sake, will you please go faster.” 

“No, I am not going to speed–,” you look over at him, and more importantly, his jeans that are now painfully tight.  Your mouth falls open before you bite your lip to keep you from saying anything snarky because you know Peter was not in the mood for any of your bitchy teasing. 

“I’ll try,” you smirk as you press a little harder on the gas. 

✰ author's note: HIII!!! thank you so much anon. i'm so happy you love my writing!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! if you want to send in an ask like this, you can! my requests are open!! ok, ily bye !!!!

[mnfrostofficial]

I'm wondering about games watched period, whether it's live or delayed. if multiple options apply, just pick whichever fits best. feel free to expand in tags, I'm curious!

[macktism]

mack and will talk about jumbo and patty . x

transcript under cut:

q: macklin, in what ways has joe thornton helped you navigate this first year?

macklin: um, i think he just- i mean if you've ever met him he's just so positive 'n' every- every day he just, he brings energy and joy 'n', um, never seems like there's a bad day for him, so, um, that's some positive for me whenever i get to see him, um, at home or whatever. um, it's great to just have that positivity and- and someone to kinda come home to that's always happy and always, uh, keeps me goin'.

q: does that outlook- do you find like maybe you needed that outlook, you needed it this season? that positive outlook?

macklin: i mean i think we, uh, i think it's good for anyone, um, i mean, every situation, every team, everyone needs- needs positivity and joy 'n', um, i think that's the only way you can go through the schedule 'n' go through, uh, eighty-two games 'n', um, i mean if you're really are that miserable and can't- can't kinda enjoy it, then, there is really no point.

[cut to will]

q: will, i don't know how much joe thornton is actually around this team, but, just for you personally as a rookie, how has he helped you kinda navigate your first year?

will: it's been great, um, just going over to his house for dinner, 'n' obviously mack lives there, so, playin' basketball, all that stuff, besides that, just, he's a fun guy off the ice and, um, just fun to be around.

q: is there anything he's said or done that's kinda helped you understand life in the nhl a li'l bit better?

will: a li'l bit, i mean, um, if mack and i ask him questions he'll- he'll tell us the answer to give us some advice, but, besides that it's more just, um, just kinda enjoying- enjoying off the ice.

q: with you- with you living with patty marleau too, do you think it's been interesting to have two guys that're gonna be in the hall of fame just to be able to give you guys advice?

will: yeah, it's- sometimes we talk about how crazy it is, i mean, um, y'know, living in their house 'n' doin' regular family stuff like playing board games at night 'n', um, cards, and he's gonna be in the hall of fame, so, it's pretty crazy.

q: did he ever talk about their time in toronto, what that was like?

will: yeah, a little bit, i mean, i know auston and mitch were very close with, uh, with both [of] them, 'n', um, so, they talk about them and how they enjoyed it.

q: is the advice any different from patty, uh, than jumbo in any kind of way?

will: um, not really, i mean, depends- depends what you're asking to be honest, but obviously jumbo's very outgoing and funny, and patty is very- um, he's nice, and, um you can ask him pretty much anything you want, so, i've asked him probably a thousand questions and he's answered all of them.

q: any surprising answer?

will: umm, *laughs* i'll keep that between- between me and him.

q: [is] jumbo a good, uh, a good ball player? he's got a powerful (can't tell what he says).

will: *laughs* yeah, he's good. he's good in the post.

q: yeah, better than you guys?

will: haha, i don't know, we've got a good couple good three-on-three games.

[hunterrrs]

Monday morning, the nerves were long gone, her prep work was largely done and the magnitude of the looming moment finally hit Michelle Crechiolo hard.

That night, when the Penguins battled the Philadelphia Flyers, she would become the first female broadcaster to ever call a regular season Penguins game.

When Crechiolo realized that morning that she would be a trailblazer and perhaps an inspiration to other women in hockey, her thoughts drifted to one of her favorite photos — a picture of her when back she was playing in Mini Mites.

“It’s making me emotional thinking about it now,” she later told the Post-Gazette, her voice quivering. “I’ve got the Jofa gloves, wooden stick. I’ve got on a little pink turtleneck under all my equipment. And I’m just posing and cheesing, and I’m missing a tooth. And I’m just so happy to be a hockey player.

“I’m just thinking about what that little girl would say if I told her that I was doing this, doing color commentary on a Pittsburgh Penguins radio broadcast. It’s just so surreal. It really is. I stuck with hockey because I loved it, and it’s led me here. And I just couldn’t be more grateful to be in this position. It’s wild.”

Around 10 a.m. Sunday, Crechiolo received a text message from Leo McCafferty, the Penguins’ vice president of content and production. He told her they believed she would be a great option to step in for Phil Bourque, who was sick. He asked if she would be up for taking his place on the radio broadcast.

“I was like, ‘Oh, hell yeah,’” she said with a laugh. “That was my response.”

When she hung up the phone, she had a brief moment of nervousness, wondering what she had just gotten herself into. But then she just felt “pure excitement.” She rushed downstairs to share the news with her boyfriend, Chuck.

“That’s when it hit me. ‘Oh my god, I’m going to be the color analyst on a National Hockey League broadcast between the Penguins and Flyers,’” she said.

Not only that, Crechiolo is the first woman to do play-by-play or color commentary on a local TV or radio broadcast for any of Pittsburgh’s three big-league teams.

Once Crechiolo calmed down, she went about her business as usual. She headed to UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex to watch practice, then in the locker room she gathered as many “nuggets” as she could for Monday’s broadcast.

Sidney Crosby, Jake Guentzel, Tristan Jarry and Rickard Rakell were among the players who gave her support and advice — or a good-natured ribbing.

When they began broadcasting her quick hits up on the Jumbotron, Crechiolo was anxious about stepping into an on-camera role. But something coach Mike Sullivan said about a player making his NHL debut resonated with her.

“He said, ‘It’s not about putting pressure on yourself. You’re there for a reason. It’s about getting excited for the opportunity, because you’re just doing something you love to do,’” Crechiolo said. “And that was how I felt about this.”

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