#and hockey women perhaps

[wlw-cryptid]

I've discovered that watching the world cup is fun and that soccer is the coolest sport. but the stream cut me off after an hour because I ran out of my "free preview"

[the-physicality]

thinking this labor day about all the athletes in women's sports who didn't have a stable league, who were only making decent money from a spot on their national team, who had to fight to get even a fraction of what they deserve. who spent their prime without a club league or the infrastructure to propel the sport. who came of age after title 9 in the usa [forcing schools to fund women/girls’ sports], the ones who fought for cbas and are only seeing big change at the end of their careers or after their careers concluded. who didn't have the media attention before, but are now showing just how much they can sell out stadiums and arenas. the players who played year round because overseas teams paid athletes what they were worth. athletes who endured and reported harassment but the league never took appropriate action. athletes who never had the media attention or ability to monetize their talent but who had careers that were just as impressive as the stars of today. who did it without the help of the science, technology, and medicine we have today. who set records with less support and fewer games in a season, which will be broken by kids who have had personal trainers since high school. athletes who played great games that are no long available to view, their talent no longer archived and accessible for young or new fans. athletes who still don't have a league or are just getting one in 2024. athletes who took it upon themselves to create change for which they will never reap the full rewards.

[mirrorballjules]

actually what is going on over there

[collegefootballplayoffs]

boston looks solid and uconn has the best goaltending tandem in the country… could be a real changing of the guard in hockey east. and thank god if so

[calmcoldevening]

First time kiss little headcanons

Jason Voorhees

• You were sitting around the campfire and all that. The night, the silence, the light crackling of the fire and the quiet chirping of crickets. It's so beautiful and cozy.

• Your head is on Jason's shoulder, his hand is on your waist as he slowly strokes your soft flesh.

• And at that moment, for some reason, you decide that you want to express your love and feelings in a new way.

• A second later, you lifted the edge of his hockey mask and gave him a short kiss on the lips.

• Overnight, his whole face was covered with a bright blush and he got up from the tree with his face covered with his hands (on top of the mask, of course).

• This guy went into the woods for a good fifteen minutes to digest what just happened. But God, he loved it.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba has never had close contact with people in principle, so your love and attention, although it was like a breath of fresh air into his harsh life, were still somewhat alien to him.

• His brothers often laughed because of how he blushed just from your gentle touch. It made him even redder, like a lingonberry.

• But one day you were almost killed by one of the tourists who decided to use you as an excuse to escape. Bubba was especially mean and cruel back then. He cut that man open like a real pig.

• Emotionally, you clung to Bubba with force, burying your nose in his chest, even though the man was covered in blood. Bubba was a little taken aback, but hugged you back, throwing the chainsaw on the floor. That's when you decided to kiss him.

• It was hard to call it a real kiss. Rather, you kissed him, and he licked your lips like a happy dog. A sloppy and wet kiss, for which he was terribly ashamed afterwards.

• It confused you a little, but you promised yourself to teach Bubba to kiss 'like a human being'.

Thomas Hewitt

• God knows why this crazy family left you, but the fact remains. You were the 'wife' of Thomas, the Hewitt family butcher. He was quite gentle and even childish towards you: Thomas never molested you, did not make any ambiguous hints, my God, he did not even touch you for simple hugs without your permission. Although his uncles laughed at him for this and condemned him, believing that a wife is a husband's thing.

• You were immensely grateful to Thomas for that attitude. Perhaps that's why you took a certain liking to him. That's why you were always glad when Thomas showed his attention to you. You've told him many times that he really doesn't need to ask permission to touch, but he insisted on his own.

• Over time, you saw that Thomas, no, Tommy, your Tommy, is really hungry for touch and affection. Whenever you 'gave permission' to cuddle with you, the man would rush to your embrace like a slaughtered puppy.

• He was a child in many ways, despite the man's body. You could say with certainty that before you appeared, if a female victim got into the house, he probably felt some desire related to his physiology, but it was quickly replaced by anger because of his self-hatred. It was sad. Because of his religious upbringing, he was absolutely stupid in matters of upbringing and, in principle, did not know how women work, which, of course, you will have to help him later.

• So you just decided to thank him for all his work, let's just say. After all, showing affection was indeed something rare in relation to Thomas. And so, when he was in the basement cutting up another victim, you cautiously approached him, standing on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. It took a few minutes for the man to work out the information. He just put the knife down and looked at you from top to bottom with those big puppy dog eyes. He only looked at you like that. The man was silent for a while, and then raised his hand, gently running his thumb over your smooth cheek. There was a bright trace of blood on the skin. His way of responding to a kiss.

Pyramid head

• Over time, the Pyramid Head really started to feel something for you. Even though he was a monster, his human beginnings were quite blurry, so he tried to learn as much about your habits as possible.

• He loved to study. When he wasn't killing monsters in the city, Pyramid Head was usually very close to you. He watched your actions and tried to understand their essence. Pyramid Head loved holding your hand. Your soft skin contrasted vividly with his rough, callused and scarred one. He liked the feeling. He liked the way your body temperature was changing. When you were afraid, your hands sweated and became cold, but if you were happy and felt safe, you were quite warm. He was always pretty hot.

• Knowing about his desire to study people, you couldn't help but try to show him how human affection works. His movements were usually crude and purposeful. The Pyramid Head felt a strange itching sensation inside and the thought that he wanted to touch you. That's why you had to explain that since you're a different person, he can't touch you without your permission. This put the monster in a stupor, but after a while he really understood. And then you started acting. At first it was fleeting touches and attempts to hug him. When he got used to your presence and body, you started kissing his cold metal helmet as a sign of appreciation. It was hard to call it a kiss, just touching metal with your lips. But he surprisingly liked it. Every time you kissed his helmet, the Pyramid head one would make a deep chest purr.

• It has already become commonplace to thank him with a kiss on the helmet. But today, there seemed to be some new thought in his mind. When you pulled away from him with a slight smile on your lips, a lump of flesh like a thick tongue suddenly burst out from under his massive helmet. This pink snake gently slid across your cheek, which made you flinch, but did not pull away. He seemed to be studying you, tasting you. Finally, a chest purr bursts out of the Pyramid-headed Man's chest and his tongue slides into your mouth, pulling a muffled moan out of you. It was weird. But not unpleasant. Rather, it's just unusual. He clumsily explored your mouth with his tongue, watching your reaction. His hand was a little rough, but still gently took your hand in his, placing it on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat gradually accelerating, soft and fast under your skin. He liked it.

• You had to teach him to use his monster language more carefully, but it turned out to be successful. Now, whenever he protected you, he expected you to kiss him. Not just a kiss. His tongue almost instinctively came out from under his helmet, moving to your lips and asking for permission without words.

Art the Clown

• Art often killed couples in love and therefore often witnessed quite, uh, intimate relationships of future victims. And the kiss was one of those things that interested him.

• He stood in front of you covered in blood with his trademark satisfied smile and tried to tell you something without words. He was jumping up and down a little with excitement and showing you things with gestures. He folded the fingers on both hands with his thumbs and depicted two people kissing. You had to think a little before you realized what he really meant. When you asked Art if he meant a kiss, Art clapped his hands joyfully and began nodding actively.

• It's not that you haven't gotten used to his unusual, somewhat grotesque appearance yet, no. But kissing a maniac is not something you do every day.

• Art's gloved hand reaches out to your cheek, cupping your face. With a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes, Art bends down, and his painted lips meet yours in a greedy but inept kiss. She tries to repeat what she saw through the window of those people, but it turns out to be somewhat awkward. Your mouth is filled with the taste of paint and blood. But it's not a bad thing. Unusual. Your hands find his neck and you pull him closer, as if encouraging him.

• The first attempt was quite interesting. Considering that you already had some experience, you taught Art how to kiss well pretty quickly. Now he demanded a 'kiss of praise' after each of his successful kills.

[mockerycrow]

KARMA (Soap x Fem!HockeyPlayer!Reader)

soap masterlist

summary; you’re a hockey player, but you’re also johnny’s girlfriend. johnny comes to a realization after watching you get into a fight. 1.2k words!

authors note; this is not exactly what i envisioned, but it’s what i wrote. enjoy :-)

[WARNINGS: reader is implied to be a buff woman, violence, light blood and gore, suggestive content at the end.]

You and Johnny first met at a pub whilst he was on leave. He saw you from across the bar counter, looking up at a TV mounted above the bartender and sipping on something he doesn’t care to remember. What he does remember is you. 

God, Johnny never believed falling in love at first sight and he still doesn’t, but holy hell did you stir something within him. Sitting there, back straight with your eyes glued to the TV, fidgeting with something circular, perhaps a coin, between your fingers. The way your bicep is bulging from the tight circumference of the short t-shirt sleeve… 

Johnny wasn’t sure what exactly prompted him to talk to you, he definitely already came to the conclusion that you were likely going to just turn him away but holy shit, he’s damned if he left without trying to strike a conversation. Johnny ends up tilting his head, downing the rest of his drink for confidence before slipping into the seat next to you.

That day, Johnny learned that you were a pro hockey player for the professional women’s hockey team back in North America. Honestly, Johnny was surprised but more so by the sport and not the fact that you played one. You told him you were visiting someone here in Scotland, a friend—helping them move while your contract was being figured out. The more you talked, the more Johnny assured himself that it was absolutely a requirement to know you on some level. 

Your voice captured his attention, your smile made his stomach tighten and bloom with warmth—even if he couldn’t convince you to go on a date with him, Johnny honestly would be just fine with being only friends. As long as he has a female hockey player in his contacts list, he’d be alright. You find out Johnny likes a bit of hockey himself, mostly paying attention to the international ice hockey federation. After learning that, to Johnny, he could see the way your eyes lit up.

Yes, you did agree to a date with this grinning man. Maybe quite a few dates.

Johnny found himself on his phone way more often whilst waiting with his team to be deployed. Constantly texting you, calling you, the whole nine yards. It earned him some glances and teasing from Ghost and Gaz, even his Captain—but he could tell his boys were happy for him. Johnny seemed more relaxed, laid back instead of his pent up self.

A couple months into the relationship, Johnny was finally able to file for vacation related leave. He was excited—secretly so was Price, as Johnny doesn’t really file for leave often—and you were ecstatic. It took a second to figure out arrangements, at the end of the day you insisted for Johnny to stay with you. Why stay in a hotel room when your spare bedroom is free? He was so reluctant, but you were so insistent with it. 

“I have a practice game in a few hours,” You informed Johnny as you opened your refrigerator, taking out two cold water bottles stuffed somewhere in the door. You let the refrigerator door close by itself, and you tossed one of the bottles to Johnny. “Was thinkin’ you could come and watch?”

Johnny grinned, his lip curling ever so slightly where it exposes his top gum near his canine. “I would love to watch ye practice!” Johnny was enthusiastic with it; he’s being truthful, he’s been wanting to watch you in person. Johnny spent a couple nights binge watching the recorded games you played in on YouTube, which honestly was a slight mistake. You are a good player, great actually—but it always stirs something deep in his gut. Something about you bodying another player, even if it warrants a penalty… Gets him hot and sweaty, honestly.

That’s how Johnny found himself sitting in a seat right by the glass, a few feet away from your team’s bench. Tension filled his veins, making his shoulders rise to ears watching you, your team, and the practice enemy team skate around on the ice. The sounds of shouts, sticks slamming against each other as well as the ice, the collisions are harsh. Johnny’s been watching you for a while, keeping his eyes on that jersey of yours and he’s been noticing you’ve been slamming into this other woman.

Before bringing him to practice, you gave him a rundown of your team's roster, as well as the opposite teams. You overall had good things to say about nearly everyone, a smile on your face as you point to different people’s faces on the league’s website. Johnny watched the way your face contorted when you got to this one woman, though. He understands most beef stays on the ice, but the way you spoke about her? Johnny could tell there was something that remained on and off ice. You told him she’s “female Tom Wilson” which made him wince a bit.

So, when he witnessed you collide with that woman for the third time in one practice match, he wasn’t too shocked to see your gloves fly off. “Holy–” Johnny swears, standing up from his seat. His hands shoot to his head, holding it as he hears shouts and whistles blowing. Your hand is crumpled in the woman’s jersey, both your helmet and hers missing. Johnny’s heart is pounding in his chest, his arms feeling heavy as both you and the woman slam into the glass right in front of him. 

He reaches forward and bangs on the glass, his eyes widening as he watches your fist make contact with her face square in the middle. Johnny winces as he nearly swears that he could hear her nose crunching under the weight of your fist through the glass. He’s not surprised when drops of blood splatter against the glass, but he still yells your name nonetheless. Part of Johnny is worried, knowing you’re against the woman who usually starts and wins fights, but.. You seem to be holding your own just fine.

Your fist pulls back and makes contact with her face over and over, blood smearing and snarls until a couple of your teammates pull you away from her by your arms. Johnny’s eyes are glued to you as your teammates skate you backwards from the woman, following the curve of the arena. The woman is on her hands and knees on the ice, a couple of her own teammates checking on her. Johnny just barely glanced at how there’s a dripping puddle of blood forming underneath her face because he can’t stop looking at you.

A feral snarky look on your face, your nose bleeding and bashed, blood dripping from your nose to your teeth, from your lower lip onto your jersey. Your left eyebrow is torn open and so is your upper lip. There’s blood splattered across your knuckles, which are surely broken open and bruised themselves.

 Johnny hits the glass, his heart pounding but it skips an entire beat when you make eye contact. His breath stutters in his chest and Johnny’s cursing himself under his breath because his job must have caused wires to cross in his brain. 

You look so.. Fucking hell. Johnny feels himself chubbing up in his jeans, a hot shot of arousal shooting down his spine. Your ferality is making his head spin and he shouldn’t be as turned on as he is from the way you spit a mixture of blood and spit onto the ice, being skated away and into the locker room, followed by your team’s medic and an angry coach. 

Johnny presses his forehead against his palms, trying to calm his racing heart, his lewd mind, and his cock.

🏷️; @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @eedwardss @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @live-love-be-unique @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

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[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.”

michelle 🥰🥰🥰

[pwhl-mybeloved]

this post is from a few years ago now, but is a great history lesson about Bev Beaver!

[youcouldmakealife]

Gérard/Sven/Yvette; up to snuff

As we approach the final two weeks publication, here's the last of the extras! For the prompt: I would love early relationship Sven/Yvette/Gerard, angst or fluff or first times or hurt/comfort.

(It's early relationship! But maybe not the OT3 one)

“I have a question for you,” Sven says.

“If it’s about that shirt, the answer is no,” Gérard says.

Sven looks down. “It’s a no?” he says.

“I feel like I’m looking at one of those books of optical illusions,” Gérard says.

“I liked those books,” Sven says.

Gérard did too. He doesn’t even mind the shirt, dizzying as it is, though Sven would get fined if the team saw it, and he clearly knows that, since this is the first time Gérard has seen it.

“It’s visual stimulation,” Sven insists. Gérard has to wonder, sometimes, where he comes from. Ottawa, by way of Sweden, but Gérard knows a lot of Ottawans, and a few Swedes too. They also find Sven inexplicable.

“Don’t you think Yvette gets enough of that in a classroom?” Gérard asks. He can’t think of anything more visually stimulating than an elementary school classroom. It’s almost like that’s the point.

“You have a point,” Sven says. “I’ll change.”

“No patterns!” Gérard says.

“You’re no fun!” Sven says.

Gérard’s fun. At least, he remembers being fun. Lately, perhaps, not so much. Perhaps he’d be more fun if Sven wasn’t constantly asking him for advice before his dates with Yvette.

He’s trying not to be weird about it. It’s hard, though, when Sven’s asking how to look sharp for a woman he only met because Gérard met her first. That is, when he isn’t asking where to take her, what to do, how to act, like he’s forgotten everything in the face of meeting her.

Gérard would think Sven had never dated before, but he was coming to the bitter end of a two year relationship when they met, and he’s dated a few women since, though nothing was serious enough for Gérard to meet them, let alone the rest of the team.

Yvette has met the team, of course. Day one, but Sven’s invited her to every event open to significant others since. She’s only come to one, to Sven’s disappointment — unsurprisingly, the schedule of a hockey player clashes with the schedule of a teacher — but if Gérard needed a sign that Sven was serious about her — he didn’t — that would have made it very obvious. The team’s important to him. More important than anything. Though perhaps not lately.

Sven was hesitant to ask him for advice at first, considering the situation, but Gérard told him it was fine, and he can’t be mad at Sven for taking him at his word. And it should be fine. He wants it to be fine. He’s sure it will be, eventually, and he’s waiting for that.

And who else could Sven ask for advice, really?

His parents? They’re somehow even weirder than Sven is — everything about him was explained the day Gérard met him. Or, nothing was explained, he’s still inexplicable, but at least he figured out where it came from.

Friends? Sven doesn’t have them, outside the team.

So then, the only alternative is their teammates. Yvette seems almost as smitten as Sven, which is saying something, since Gérard wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already surreptitiously measuring her ring finger whenever they hold hands. But even with that latitude, if Sven follows their boneheaded advice he’ll almost certainly end up single again. Every one of their teammates in a relationship got to that point despite everything about them. Gérard is saying that with affection — mostly — but even so.

“How’s this?” Sven asks, emerging from his bedroom, then striking a pose as Gérard surveys him.

“You look good,” Gérard say.

He does. The shirt’s a solid colour, thankfully. Sven was unable to resist pairing it with a patterned tie, but they work together. His hair’s sticking up a little, probably from the quick change, but it’s endearing. Gérard thinks Yvette would find it endearing too, but then, he doesn’t really know that, does he?

“You need to fix your hair, though,” he says, and Sven runs his fingers through it, messing it up worse until Gérard takes over, finger combing it into submission. His hair’s soft and thin, almost downy, like a child’s. Gérard tries not to linger.

“I’m nervous,” Sven admits. Gérard’s well aware of that, though there isn’t really anything to be nervous about at this point. It’s not like it’s a first date, or meeting the parents — if it wasn’t already clear they were serious, the fact she’s already met Sven’s and Sven’s already met hers, well, Gérard thinks that makes it very clear.

Sven’s parents adored her, and Gérard’s not surprised. Sven’s unsure how her parents felt about him, and Gérard’s not really surprised by that either. He bets they liked him, though. It’s hard not to be a little overwhelmed when the full force of his attention aimed at you, but it’s hard not to be bowled over by it either.

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Gérard says.

“I know,” Sven says, cracking a small, nervous smile.

How could Yvette be anything but endeared? Gérard never had a chance, but she didn’t have one either.

“Thank you,” Sven says. “For, you know.”

“Saving Yvette’s eyesight?” Gérard asks.

“Yes,” Sven says. “Thank you for that.”

“Any time,” Gérard says, and wishes he was strong enough not to mean it.

[shadowkoo]

All About You

A Bangtan x Hockey series by @shadowkoo!

The upcoming season for the Denver Dragons is predicted to be an absolute game-changer! From lightning-fast breakaways to jaw-dropping saves, get ready to witness a showcase of skill, determination, and pure passion in both the game on the ice and the one in these player's hearts. The team is hungrier than ever, prepared to do whatever it takes to secure their victory. With rivalries heating up, new talent on the rise, and fresh sparks flying, this season promises unforgettable matchups that will have fans on the edge of their seats. So grab your jerseys and get ready to witness what this season has coming. Let the games begin! 🏒🔥

Bad For You - coming soon ↳ Official Teaser

Jungkook wants what he can’t have and it’s driving him nuts. He’s never thought of Natasha more than Namjoon’s annoying little sister, but that’s all changed now that she’s returned from university. Especially now that she plan to stay at his apartment until further notice. Having Tasha around takes his mind off the importance of this season, something he cannot have happen since last season ended so badly. A distraction like her might either become the biggest mistake of his life, or perhaps the best one.

Natasha know better than to sleep with the up-and-coming, all-star, fan-favorite hockey forward for the Denver Dragons. And it’s not because he’s just as much a player off the ice as he is on it. More importantly, he’s her brother’s teammate, best friend, and the guy whose place she’s crashing at. He’s been off-limits since the day she met him, but it didn’t stop her then, and it sure as fuck isn’t going to stop her now…

↠ pairing: jungkook x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: forward, right-wing ↠ trope: brother's best friend, forced proximity, age gap, forbidden relationship ↠ installment: 1/7

Thinking About You - coming soon

Taehyung has a secret. He's got a big, fat schoolgirl-esque crush on one of the hockey moms of the Dragon's sponsored junior league hockey team. He finds it utterly repulsive that merely catching sight of Florence sends a flurry of butterflies to the center of his stomach, an entirely foreign sensation he's not sure he enjoys. As if that wasn't bad enough, he also recently discovered that he transforms into a bumbling, incoherent mess in her presence, a behavior that is completely unlike him.

Everyone knows Kim Taehyung is the most popular guy on the team, especially in the eyes of all the puck bunnies chasing after him. He's a smooth-talking, swoon-worthy, wet-your-panties-by-simply-grinning-at-you type of ladies' man that women just can't get enough of. And based on what Florence has heard, he used to eat that shit up, using it to his advantage at every available opportunity. But now, his attention is solely fixated on her, and what's even more astonishing - on her son.

↠ pairing: taehyung x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: centerman ↠ trope: widower, single parent, fuckboy finally settles down ↠ installment: 2/7

Loyal To You - coming soon

Jimin has been eagerly anticipating the holidays for a while now. Not because he has anyone special to go home to or any familial commitments. He's been craving time away from the relentless demands of his career and the ice, a first for him. From the moment he first wore skates at the young age of three, hockey has consumed his entire existence. Yet now, he yearns for a much-needed break from the sport that has been his lifelong passion. Being a professional athlete has its perks (money, women, fame), but it also comes with it's fair share of downs. And lately, life has handed him a lot of downs. Upon arriving at the charming bed and breakfast where he intends to spend the next three weeks, he's instantly captivated by the attractive owner. Julie doesn't seem to recognize him, and she doesn't expect anything from him either. In that moment, he can't help but envision a different life distinct from the one he knows, one where he can be just Park Jimin instead of player #33 of the Denver Dragons.

↠ pairing: jimin x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: forward, left-wing ↠ trope: hidden identity, instant attraction, the big secret ↠ installment: 3/7

Made For You - coming soon

Namjoon has lately found himself thoroughly intrigued by the team photographer for the Dragons. He and Avery have shared a friendship for quite some time, frequently crossing paths at the favored bar of DD Organization and often catching glimpses of each other nearly every day at the arena. He's taken aback by the fact that he's interested in her, considering that they are such polar opposites. He's usually quiet and reserved, channeling his energy into the game and his responsibilities. In contrast, Avery radiates a lively and outgoing presence, greeting people with warmth and capturing candid moments with quick snaps of your camera. When Namjoon finally musters the courage to ask her out, a small comment from you about seeing him as one of your closest friends shatters his spirit before he even gets the chance. Apparently, fate has dictated that they are destined to be just friends, or perhaps he simply needs to sway her perspective...

↠ pairing: namjoon x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: defenseman ↠ trope: coworkers, opposites attract, friends to lovers ↠ installment: 4/7

Lost In You - coming soon

Hoseok is a wild card, and the Denver Dragons Organization has just about had it. It's time for him to simmer down before he's off the ice for good. Their plan? Marriage. Yes, that's right. Hoseok is getting married to a snotty socialite, and the whole arrangement is meant to heal his status in the eyes of the rest of the world. He knows damn well he is the only person to blame for this PR stunt to be his last chance to redeem his shitty reputation. Coach made it very clear that not a single other team expressed any interest in trading for him if he kept heading in his current direction. Between all the fights, the public intoxication charges, and the constant news stories about him, it was bound to happen at some point. He just needs to make it through the next two years without losing it again. A feat that he finds nearly impossible when he's forced to be around Blair, his wife.

↠ pairing: hoseok x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: alternate captain, defenseman ↠ trope: married for convenience, enemies to lovers ↠ installment: 5/7

Searching For You - coming soon

After a complicated fallout with his now ex-fiance, Yoongi has made a recent vow to avoid anything and anyone associated with love. He has no time or use for it. Having weathered numerous failed relationships, his most recent resulting in calling off his wedding the night before, he possesses no need to subject himself to that kind of pain or heartbreak ever again. Especially not with someone as joyful and optimistic as Sage.

People often avoid Yoongi because of his cranky behavior, but Sage questions how much of it is his true personality versus a defence mechanism. It doesn't help that just simply observing Sage's perpetual good mood only seems to piss him off even further. But nevertheless, she's taken notice of him, and has undertaken a challenge of sorts to brighten the mood of the grumpy hockey player who often visits her bagel shop and get him to open up. The problem? He doesn't like to lose, and neither does she.

↠ pairing: yoongi x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: goalie ↠ trope: grumpy sunshine, sworn off relationships ↠ installment: 6/7

Trapped By You - coming soon

Seokjin has had very few moments in his life that have rendered him utterly speechless. Unfortunately, this seems to be one of them. Ophelia is the last person he anticipated seeing on his doorstep so early in the morning. One night stands are supposed to be just that - one night of fun without the moral obligation to see that person ever again. But here she was, nearly four months later, changing that 'rule' with her smudged mascara and a handful of positive pregnancy tests.

Ophelia always assumed she would have a baby at some point in her life; maybe a few years after getting married to the love of her life, when the timing felt right. But right now felt so wrong. She didn't love Seokjin; they barely even know each other. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, and most certainly not with the Captain of the Denver Dragons.

↠ pairing: seokjin x o.c. (dual 1st person pov) ↠ position: captain, centerman ↠ trope: one night stand pregnancy, strangers to lovers ↠ installment: 7/7

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*Disclaimers: Obviously, I am not affiliated with the NHL, given by my fictional team name, nor do I claim to know every single hockey rule or slogan, etc. We’re also intentionally forgetting that Denver already has a pro team for the sake of my sanity LOL. This series is meant to be read in order of release (top to bottom of this post). This series is written in dual first person POV (I did this, I said that) and shows scenes from both character's perspective for each fic. This entire series is 18+ as every fic will contain explicit smut scenes. Minors do not read or interact!

[everest-is-dead-now]

Tacos — Terzomega

~part two of the Little Monster series~

2.2k words - smut

Omega escorts Terzo back to the Ministry after a party. At least, he tried.

this one is a little sillier but it sets up the third more serious part (closer to the tone of part 1)

[parts:] one | next

—

The sonorous music vibrated through the building, thumping in his chest with every bright drum, reverberating every dark guitar. There were people, dozens of them, dancing, screaming, drinking, getting high. Omega stood against the wall, hands behind his back, staring forward out from his mask. His eyes were trained on the most tangled knot of humans on the floor. In the center, with one hand in the air and the other sloshing beer on his black shirt, was Terzo.

The crowd of people overwhelmed Omega, with throes of minds and emotions soaring from the group. It reminded him of a concert, but this time, he could not distance himself with the stage or block out the feelings. He had to hold on to Terzo’s thread, only to make sure he was not suffocated or trampled by the rowdy crowd.

Omega was annoyed to be there, just a body for Terzo’s protection. He was living it up on the dance floor, yelling and dancing and drinking, his black makeup smearing with sweat beneath his sunglasses. Omega was the only one they trusted not to join in. That irritated him more— chosen not to have fun.

He checked his watch and found the first good news he had received all night: it was 1:11 a.m. Curfew was at two; otherwise, the ministry would be locked up tight with no admittance. It was around a forty-minute drive back, meaning they had to get going as soon as possible— much to Omega’s delight.

He walked through the crowd, his large stature splitting them like a boat splitting the ocean until he reached the center. Terzo did not even notice him. He was lip-locked with a woman. Omega seethed and grabbed his shoulder.

“Huh?” He looked up at the ghoul.

“Time to go.”

“Ah, then I will bring with me this bellezza, hm?” Terzo grabbed the hand of the brunette he had been playing tongue hockey with.

Omega felt a rage boiling within him. He had been annoyed before, but this surge of anger had arisen from nothing.

“No. No guests.”

“Si guests. Come along,” he began guiding the woman out of the crowd with him.

“No.” Omega stood in front of Terzo, a stone wall.

“Who says I cannot bring guests?”

Omega was silent. He would not argue with Terzo; perhaps because there was nothing to argue. Besides the headache of escorting her out and calling her a taxi in the morning, there was no reason to deny him. Omega had helped Secondo sneak in dozens of women before without a problem.

After a moment of unwavering, Terzo threw his hands in the air. “Fine, you win. Goodbye, bellezza. I hope to see you again.” Terzo kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. She giggled and nodded, her eyes flashing towards the imposing Omega.

“Let’s go then, hm? Asshole,” Terzo muttered, threading through the crowd. Omega was close behind, texting the car to pull around.

They waited outside, the air cooler than within. Stragglers hung out in the yard of the mansion, bottles in the grass. This was the house of a particularly prolific politician who recieved many ‘donations’ from the Ministry. He often invited the Papas to parties, though due to some brewing political tensions currently at play within the Ministry itself, cardinal Terzo was given a pass to go.

Terzo removed a small baggie from his chest pocket, dumping its contents on the back of his hand. He tossed the now empty baggie on the lawn, plugged one of his nostrils, and snorted it off his hand. He threw his head back, sniffed a few times, exhaled, and wiped a drop of blood from his nose.

“You’re a real cockblock, Omega ghoul.”

“No outsiders in the Ministry.”

“Oh, I’m sure you kept Secondo to that rule, too.”

Omega was hoping Terzo did not know that. “You’re still a cardinal.”

“How could I forget?” He laughed. “Papa’s are exempt from Omega ghoul’s cockblocking!”

The sleek black car pulled around. The driver opened the door for them. Terzo climbed in first, then vindictively slammed the door shut behind him. Omega shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. The driver looked at him awkwardly. Omega shook his head, entering on the other side.

“The Ministry?” the driver asked after getting in.

“No, I’m hungry. Let’s stop at that, ehh, taco… ring?”

“No. We’re going to the Ministry.”

“Taco ring!” Terzo demanded. “Do it or you’re fired!”

“You can’t fire him, you’re just a cardinal!” Omega erupted.

“I’m an Emeritus. Emeritus says taco ring!”

“It’s called Taco Bell!” Omega yelled.

“No, that’s not it,” Terzo shook his head. The driver glanced between them, eventually turning to begin driving.

“Where are you driving?” Omega asked.

The driver hunched slightly. “I have to listen to the cardinal… sorry.”

“Tell him we’re going back to the Ministry,” Omega leered at Terzo.

“How about you blow me, signore cockblock?”

Omega slammed the screen shut between the driver and the back, which made it both invisible and semi-soundproof.

“What is your fucking problem?” Omega hissed. “If we don’t go back now we’ll get locked out.”

“I’m hungry.” Terzo was indifferent to his rage.

“There’s food at the Ministry!”

“Yes, but I hear taco ring is excellent for the high.”

“Do you want to be locked out?”

Terzo shrugged. “Then we can go back to the party.”

“If we aren’t there in the morning, Imperator will chew us out.”

“It is not my fault you stop me from getting my stones off, monstriciatto. You are the one who told me we had to stop. I find someone else, and you say, ‘No, Terzo, you cannot have anyone else.’ What is deal?”

Omega glanced at the partition. He whispered, “You can do whatever you want, I was just trying to get us back in time for curfew.”

“But you are jealous, si?”

“No.”

“Then why you get in my business?”

Omega blew out a frustrated breath. “What the fuck do you want from me, Terzo? I just want to be back before two.”

“I told you, Omega ghoul. Blow. Me.”

Omega glared at him. “You’ll tell the driver to go to the Ministry?”

Terzo nodded, grinning.

Omega again looked at the partition, checking it was shut. His fingers quickly jumped to Terzo’s lap to undo his pants. Terzo wiggled them off. Already erect. Figured.

Omega dipped his head down to his lap, quickly taking Terzo in his mouth and bobbing his head. Terzo threaded his fingers in his hair, just below the back of the mask.

Omega did his best work, which was, of course, excellent. He was well-practiced, after all. It was almost as if his fangs had disappeared from his mouth, the way he sucked and bobbed and licked. Terzo immediately melted, moaning constantly. Omega paused to play with his tip using his tongue, which made Terzo’s head fall back and his grip tighten.

“Oh, monsticiatto… I missed you…” Terzo sighed.

Omega hated hearing that. He had broken off their tepid affair very soon after the night Omega discovered Terzo’s deep, secret misery. Having sex with him was not the same, knowing of the deep sadness that most certainly drove his addictions, his need to block out the world with sex and drugs and alcohol. He still did not know why he felt that from him. He tried to never think about it, because doing so would stoke a flame of guilt deep within his gut that he refused to acknowledge. It would make him think of Terzo having a soul, a tortured soul, and Omega could not bring himself to do that. Not to mention how alarmed he was that Terzo could hide and continue hiding that pain from him.

Yet, there he was, sucking the man off in the back of a car. Omega tried to convince himself it was for a purpose, an exchange. But hearing Terzo’s sweet moans again, feeling his warm body shake, his cock twitching in his mouth, was pulling him back to old passions. Omega never realized how much he missed it until now, which was why hearing Terzo say it made him so angry. He was not supposed to miss fucking Terzo. What they had before was nothing. No feelings, nothing between them. Now Omega was getting riled up and horny, finding that he wanted Terzo to cum in his mouth just so he could spit it into his.

Terzo sighed lightly. With Omega’s focused effort, he was a goner. His hips jerked upwards, finishing in Omega’s mouth with a gentle moan. His grip relaxed on Omega’s hair.

Omega sat up, giving in to his urges. He grabbed Terzo by the throat, using his other hand to hook into his jaw and force open his mouth. He could see his eyes just beneath the sunglasses, staring widely. Omega spit the cum into Terzo’s mouth, shutting his mouth with his hand, continuing to hold him by the throat as he struggled to swallow.

Omega returned to his seat, wiping his mouth. Terzo coughed a few times.

“Tell him,” Omega growled, now riled up but unwilling to admit it.

Terzo held up a finger, thumping his chest a few times as he finished coughing. He panted for a few seconds, then opened the partition.

“Err, cancel the, eh, taco ring…” he said, voice raspy and breathless.

“We just pulled up to the drive-thru,” the driver informed them.

Omega’s head swung towards the window. Indeed, they were already there.

“Hooray!” Terzo cheered. “I would like the… tacos. What would you like, Omega?”

Omega gripped the vinyl seats with his claws, enraged. “Nothing.”

“He will have… the… tacos.” Terzo nodded confidently. “Oh, and do they have the… err… the explosion? The blue beverage?”

“Baja blast?”

“Yes, I hear that is very good. Get Omega one too.”

Omega suddenly shut the partition. “You said you’d tell him to go back!”

“We’re already here, mostriciatto.”

“Dammit all.” Omega buried his head in his hands.

“You worry too much for a little lecture. Have some fun, Omega ghoul. A sense of adventure, si?”

Omega was frustrated in all kinds of ways. He chose not to respond.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the partition. The driver handed Terzo an entire box of tacos and a carrier with two neon-colored drinks.

“Ooh, grazie. Did you get any for yourself?”

“No.”

“Have a taco. And to the Ministry!”

“Pardon my saying so, cardinal, but we will not make it back before two.”

Omega groaned. Terzo laughed.

“To the nearest hotel, then! And another taco!”

Terzo threw two tacos through the partition, then unwrapped one for himself. He took a bite and started giggling. “These are terrible!” He devoured it and took another.

Omega was surprised he did not ask to go back to the party, though he was so intoxicated he may have just forgotten.

“Have a taco, monstriciatto. They are so bad, they are good!”

Omega sighed. There was no point in fighting now, and his mouth still tasted sour. He ate one, finding he, surprisingly, liked the taste. He tried the neon soda, which he liked much less. It was too sweet.

The car began moving again. All three silently munched on mediocre tacos, at least, except Terzo, who was not silent at all.

“Can we stop at the liquor? This would taste so good with vodka,” Terzo lifted his cup of baja blast. The driver began poking at the GPS to find somewhere that was open.

Omega glared at him. There was no way he needed any more alcohol in his system. But after the last negotiation attempt, he knew asking Terzo to do anything else would be fruitless.

They quickly ended up in the parking lot of a Walmart.

“The finest bottle you can find,” Terzo told the driver. “And get something for yourself if you like.”

Then, as soon as the driver left, Terzo dove across the seats to climb into Omega’s lap. The box of tacos was knocked to the floor in the process.

“What—!”

Terzo planted his lips on Omega’s, huffing impatiently as his hands started climbing up his body.

“Terzo!” Omega held him back. They stared at each other for a long moment. His sunglasses were askew, revealing his left eye. It was bloodshot, made more obvious by its whiteness.

“I told you we were done,” Omega finally said.

Terzo frowned. “Then we are done. Can we not fuck, then?”

“No, that’s what done means.”

“Eh, what’s a one-night stand? You are hard anyway.”

Terzo grabbed him by the bulge, making him flinch. He began kissing him again, and this time, Omega did not stop him.

Again, it was familiar, and it was something Omega found he had been craving for far too long. His warm lips, though they tasted of alcohol and tacos, were a welcome sensation. Terzo had a knack for knowing just what Omega wanted. That was another thing that irked him— it was his entire existence to know the feelings and desires of others, and yet, Terzo constantly eluded him.

They were distracted for a long time until the opening of the car door surprised both of them. Omega pushed Terzo off his lap, and he ungracefully scooted back to the other side of the car. The driver, with no indication that he had seen anything, handed the bottle of vodka through the partition and started the car.

“Fuck yeah,” Terzo grinned. He rolled down the window, dumped half of the baja blast out, then refilled it with the vodka. He swished it around and took a sip through the straw. He nodded, satisfied, then picked up another taco. Omega turned to stare out the window until they arrived at the hotel.

[parts:] one | next

buy me a kofi <3

[5bi5]

Tumblr girlies do YOU want a show that has more than 12 episodes a season? That won't get cancelled next year? That has beautiful talented queer women? That you can overanalyze to your heart's content? That will make you laugh, cry, and tear your hair out? That's problematic in many ways but still worth watching and loving? That has decades of lore and history? That has symbols and motifs and imagery and sometimes even live organ music? Then perhaps what you want isn't a fictional show at all but the violent sport of hockey.

[ottawacharge]

hello pals! here is transcript ft photoshoot shots ‼️ @ohe-ohe @verb925

If Marie-Philip Poulin is the legend, Laura Stacey is the superstar. Where one is soft-spoken, reflective and intensely magnetic, the other is intuitive, forthcoming and absolutely electric. As they shatter records in their sport and lead change far beyond, these world-class athletes are writing a page of history, together.

At first, they fought it. Centralized in Calgary with the national team for months before being thrown into the pressure cooker in PyeongChang, Poulin was the seasoned captain and Stacey was vying for a spot on the roster for what would be her first Games. They shared teammates and friends and were apprehensive about upending the intricate and delicate alchemy it takes to win. They did everything they could to push their feelings out of their minds, all the while finding every way possible to spend time together. "There were so many emotions, and we just got very close during that time. It was a kind of snowball effect," Laura explains.

At the Olympics, Team Canada ultimately fell to the US to take home silver medals. Devastated, the pair parted ways. Laura went home to Toronto and Marie-Philip to Montréal. They didn't see each other and tried not to text. But hockey is a cyclical sport in which every ending yields a new beginning, so when the Canadian Women's Hockey League (CWHL) started up again in the fall, Poulin returned to Les Canadiennes de Montréal and Stacey to the Markham Thunder. "The first real moment was when we played against each other in Montréal," Stacey says. "We were still talking, and we knew there was something between us. After the game, she followed our team bus back from the rink, picked me up at the hotel and took me back to her apartment. Her parents were there, and I met them for the first time. It all felt really serious. When I asked her, she said she was done fighting it."

As it turns out, what came as somewhat of a surprise to Laura was anything but unexpected to Marie-Philip's mom, who'd understood the moment she saw her daughter look over at Laura at Canada House back in South Korea. A mother knows: Marie-Philip and Laura had found home.

At their next Olympics in Beijing in 2022, Team Canada triumphed, and Poulin cemented her legend by becoming the only player -- female or male -- to score in four straight Olympic gold medal games.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the greatest of all time, although she flashes a reluctant wince when she hears herself referred to as such. In her home province of Québec especially, she is a beloved, virtually untouchable figure. She is the quintessential sports hero -- wholly exceptional and genuinely approachable. Despite her countless appearances and endless interviews, she's always remained very discreet about her personal life, the furthest thing from a celesbian one would ever imagine. Only her most intimate circle (and perhaps her most avid fans) would have noticed two-time Olympic medallist and three-time world champion Laura Stacey flow seamlessly into her public life and crack open the window ever so slightly. But when they each posted sets of their idyllic engagement photos on Instagram in May 2023, their low-key romance made national headlines. "We just wanted to be ourselves, and we didn't realize how much of an impact the photos were going to have. They really blew up!" says Marie-Philip. Laura adds: " When we first posted we were engaged, people didn't even know we were together, so it hit us a little harder. But the way everyone has welcomed us is amazing. So many athletes feel uncomfortable coming out. For us, it happened organically. And there's so much positivity in the way everyone supports us."

That summer, Mark Walter Group and sports trailblazer Billie Jean King announced the establishment of the Professional Women's Hockey League (PWHL) and six charter franchises. For women's hockey players, it was the culmination of a dream after years of struggle. A month later, PWHL Montréal confirmed it had signed three-year deals with goaltender Ann-Renée Desbiens and forwards Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey. "I didn't want to sign and play in Montréal as a package deal because the team wanted to get her for sure," Stacey admits. And she made that very clear to the team's management. "The conversation went so well, but it was still scary for me because I knew I had something to prove." Since then, her intensity, heart, skill and dazzling plays have put any doubts to rest. "Looking back on these past few months, I can say it's been amazing."

When the puck dropped on the team's first-ever game on January 2, 2024, Laura scored her very first goal in the league and unintentionally went viral. It all happened in a split second: drive to the net, snipe, celly. The subsequent shot of her marking the moment with Marie-Philip, which became one of the most viewed photos from the PWHL, was swiftly reposted on X with the caption "score a goal and celly with your fiancé," prompting user MarcusA9393 to pointedly (read: homophobically) ask where the said fiancé was in the crowd since he "didn't see him behind the glass." Then came an impeccable reply that turned Marcus' mudslinging into an incandescent ray of sheer queer joy: "Her fiancée is #29 poulin. She's gay, Marcus."

The floodgates opened, and in no time there was a tidal wave of "She's gay, Marcus" bracelets, apparal of all sorts, stickers and fan art. Sellers started offering Stacey and Poulin's hockey cards as a pair. Did she realize her love would be the first person to throw herself in her arms? "No, we had no idea! It all went so fast. But what are the chances?" It was an instance that opened their eyes to the fact that there was a place for them as a couple and as professional hockey players. "We realized it was welcome. That respect for us together and as individuals has helped us open up a lot more. Our teammates, our coaching staff, our fans all support us. And Montréal has embraced us as a couple in a beautiful, crazy way," Stacey reflects. Her fiancée concurs: "At first, it felt like a lot after the engagement photos, but we took a step back and we saw we could connect with people. We quickly learned that it helps people be themselves. Fans are so happy to show us their bracelets and t-shirts and ask us to sign the photo. That connection happens because they feel they can be themselves around us. They cheer for us together, and that's very emotional for us."

Even so, there's a paradox, since they both make very conscious efforts to keep their hockey lives separate despite their matching collections of Olympic gold and silver medals and world championship titles. They don't have adjoining spaces in the dressing room; they don't room together on the road; they don't sit together when travelling with the team. Does that benefit them? The team? "That's actually something we take a lot of pride in," says Poulin. "When we get to the rink, we're there to work: to play hockey and win. There's a time and place for everything." Laura echoes the sentiment: "It's about respect for our teammates. When they're taping their stick and getting ready, they're not there for us as a couple. They want teammates who are ready to go to war with them. We're there to do the best job we can. If people want to spend time with us as a couple, they can come over for dinner."

Meanwhile at the rink, without getting deep into the the analytics, the sometimes linesmates ended the regular season tied as PWHL Montréal's highest scorers with 10 goals apiece (23 points for Poulin, 18 for Stacey) and proved to be a game-changing duo. But what happens when the puck isn't bouncing their way? "We didn't start on the same line, but we ended up playing together as time went on. That was a challenge," says Marie-Philip. "We're leaders on the team and we're very competitive so we want to be perfect. When one of us misses a play, we definitely take it out on the other." Laura nods emphatically and laughs: "Sometimes I tell her ' I can't make that play! You know who I am!', and she'll go 'No! You have to if you're playing with me!'" When asked if they're harder on each other than their other teammates, they reply "110%" in perfect synch.

On top of the ebbs and flows in their respective games, having to execute perfectly at critical junctures can take a toll. "There's a lot of pressure, and I feel it. It's on me, on her and on us," says Poulin. Her demeanour is unfailingly even keeled and, in many ways, true to the player she's shown herself to be in competition, naturally offsetting the challenges and perpetually rising above. "The fact that the pressure makes me stay on the ice and practice with my partner -- that we're always pushing each other -- just makes us better and more balanced players and people."

And what about the physicality of the women's game? While there's nothing that makes the game unsafe, there's a lot of jostling, body checking and contact along the boards. "When one of my teammates gets caught, I get fired up. But when it's Laura, my heart drops. I want to react and it's hard not to, but I can't," says Marie-Philip. Do they get chirped? "Oh yeah, for sure," Laura confirms, just as Marie Philip points out: "Less now."

In season, they're never apart. "We do everything together, but we like it," says Marie-Philip, who then turns her entire body towards Laura, reaches out to her and quietly asks with a smile: "You like it, right?" Laura beams at her and replies: "I love it." All captivating affinity aside, the fact remains that they constantly put their bodies on the line, and the grind can wear them down. Camps started in October and the hockey didn't stop until June. The many highs and upward trend of prepare, prepare, prepare was so physically demanding that there were times when all they could do was crash.

Having all eyes on them means they've learned when to ease up and when to zoom out. "We get on the bus together when everyone else is leaving their significant other. We travel the world together. We get to hear fans in Montréal cheer for us both together. We fight and push each other in the hard moments but when we get home, we close the door and realize how lucky and how happy we are," says Laura.

The talk eventually turns to April 20 at the Bell Centre in Montréal, when PWHL Montréal and PWHL Toronto set the world record for a women's hockey game in front of 21,105 fans. For the players and for so many in the crowd, the pregame introductions unfolded into a moving "I see you" moment. Under the lights and amidst tens of thousands of twirling white rally towels, the players stood at the blue line to finally take in the resounding ovation they'd earned and deserved. It was a powerful acknowledgement of their excellence, their hard work, their sacrifices and their fight. Their win was everyone's win, in hockey and far beyond. On the ice, Marie-Philip and Laura were standing side by side. "The sentiment that we all win together and the feeling of success cemented the fact that we're here to stay. It's so much more than a hockey league. It's a movement," Laura says. When Marie-Philip Poulin's name resonated in the arena, a deafening roar rose all the way up to the rafters: "It was all surreal. It was so loud, and I thought 'Wow, we did it.'"

But like all things, hockey careers -- even the most brilliant ones -- come to an end. With respect to their sport, they're both adamant about leaving it in a better place than they found it. At the same time, with their wedding only weeks away, Laura Stacey and Marie-Philip Poulin are just beginning to shape their family legacy, one whose reach is much broader than hockey and touches on representation, visibility, equality, diversity, women's rights, 2SLGBTQIA+ rights and human rights. It's something we tend to take stock of in retrospect, but they're writing their own page of history today. "We want people to have the same opportunities we've been given to be themselves and chase the dream of whatever it is they love," says Laura. That authenticity has become their hallmark. "W're always ourselves," says Marie-Philip. "People remember how you made them feel, not what you did. And that only happens when you're truly yourself."

[ketsubankoya]

This was the first season for the PWHL - the Professional Women's Hockey League.

Of course, as soon as I learned it was being formed I bought season tickets. Not only because I'm Minnesotan, although I was thrilled we got one of the league's first six teams. I wanted to show support, because I want the league to succeed. And hockey is pretty much the only sport I genuinely enjoy watching, if it's live.

Attendance at Minnesota's home games has been a mixed bag. Our team just won their first home games in the playoffs, so they've been getting some more media attention, and of course there are a lot of disparaging comments about the rows of empty seats. It's easy to look at the pictures and assume the league is a failure. It may even be easy for the team itself to look into the stands and feel they themselves are a failure, although I certainly hope not. There are a lot of factors that aren't obvious at a glance.

The Xcel Energy Center is huge. Minnesota is the only team that plays its home games in an NHL arena. It's a great show of support by the venue, but that's a ton of seats to fill. Many of the other teams' home games have been selling out, because their venues are smaller - in some cases too small. Playing at the X was perhaps a bit too optimistic, but we believe in the future of the league. And there have been games when we needed the extra seats.

To start with, the X groups all the sold tickets together on one side of the arena. It keeps the energy and the excitement up rather than having everyone spread out. If enough tickets are sold, they open up more sections. There have been games where we filled the entire lower bowl of the arena and some of the seats above. In particular, weekend games have been very well attended, with loads of families and youth teams in the stands. There are plenty of men, too, in pricey branded gear that keeps selling out. I dare anyone to say our crowd's energy isn't just as high as any other event's. There are signs and props and people in purple wigs and voices as loud as anywhere. And I will never tire of seeing all the young girls in their youth team's jerseys, from kindergarten kids to high schoolers, with PWHL temporary tattoos on their faces and the possibility of a pro career to aspire to.

The attendance at the playoff games has been disappointing, with the games being on weeknights and in conflict with other local sporting events. The ticket prices are higher and not part of the standard season ticket package. And honestly, Minnesota wasn't expected to get this far with the way they've been playing in the latter half of the season. (Their comeback in the playoffs has been amazing!) But the core crowd was still there, still as enthusiastic as ever, just grouped together on one side of the arena where they can't always be seen in photos or video clips. Still loud, still proud, still there to cheer on our ladies in purple, but out of view of the casual eye. It's been frustrating to try to take pictures that truly capture the spirit of the game when you're on the crowded side, in the thick of all the energy, but facing the empty side. It's been sad to see people online judging the team (and the league) based only on photos that happen to be facing the wrong way.

As in many things, it's all a matter of perspective.

If you ever feel like you're failing, maybe you're currently in a place not best suited to you. And if you feel like no one supports you, maybe you're looking in the wrong direction.

[latenightswaudiobooks]

All For The Game Series 1-3

What it’s about: All three books center around Neil Josten and his life that revolves around Exy (a fictional sport which is mixed between Hockey and Lacrosse) and his secrets he tries so hard to hide. The secrets he has been running from for most of his life.

Pages or RunTime: B1-260 Pages B2- 9hr 35min B3-12hr 33min

⭐ Overall Rating: 8/10

🌶️ Spice Rating: 5/10

Key Factors: LGBT+, sports, chaotic boyfriends, trauma, a messy found family, main character clueless about peoples emotions and completely misses the love interests attraction, twists and turns throughout the story.

Trigger warning for this one!

‼️ Beyond Here Contains Spoilers ‼️

Favorite Character: Andrew everyone views him as a monster but I could tell he was just traumatized from the beginning. He just wants to protect the family he has created for himself. His anger issues are relatable as someone with BPD. His dry commentary is a hilarious added point especially when Neil doesn't understand it.

Least Favorite Character: Riko if you read the books you'll get it. He is the devil incarnate and though his story may have started sad he was given an opportunity of a life time to turn it around and yes he still has issues being thrown his way but, it does not give him any right to be that cruel and sociopathic.

Favorite Part: When the FBI agents allow Neil is allowed to go speak with his team (family) and he thinks they won't even want to speak or see him Andrew least of all. He gets there and they all try to swarm him with questions of "if he's okay"'s and they were just all so worried. Then Andrew comes in handcuffed to Coach because he had been fighting so hard to get to Neil.

Favorite Quotes: "You're a pipe dream"

"Hope was a dangerous, disquieting thing, but he thought perhaps he liked it."

“Thank you," he finally said. He couldn't say he meant thanks for all of it: the keys, the trust, the honesty and the kisses. Hopefully Andrew would figure it out eventually. "You were amazing.”

“He was their family. They were his. They were worth every cut and bruise and scream.”

“You know I get it-" (This whole quote)

"Some of the strongest people I know are women"

I will read more from the author!

[shanewright]

Campbell's background as a skills coach means she can work with players to improve various aspects of their game, such as skating. Bodie said Campbell took "a lot of pride" in spending significant time with players before and after practices on different areas they wanted to develop.

Bodie estimated that the demand for Campbell by the players was so great that she was likely overworked because she excelled at creating such a high level of respect and trust in just one season.

"Before practices, she'd have half-hour skill sessions that would have 90 percent participation," said Bodie, who played in more than 500 games between the AHL and NHL. "I was shocked because there's usually never that much participation for an optional skills practice."

[...]

Campbell said her ultimate hope is that while her being on the bench is different, there will come a time when seeing a woman on the bench of a men's hockey team becomes normalized. She said as the season went on, she didn't focus on being the only woman on an AHL bench but saw it more as the Firebirds having an assistant coach who happened to be a woman.

She also acknowledged how being in her position comes with pressure to perform because she knows there are other women with the same goals and aspirations as her.

"There are other people that perhaps from the outside are looking at it differently," Campbell said. "I feel and I take pride in knowing that if our team succeeds, if I can succeed, then others are going to have the doors held open for them and that's where we want the game to go."