#chicago Blackhawks

[hockeyboi]

Hockey Holiday Hits Complete Collection! | Happy Holidays from the NHL 🎄

[yes-perwallstedt]

This is the funniest thing I’ve seen all day

[azuredawn81]

please read later | connor bedard x gf!reader

❅ summary: connor’s relationship has been falling apart. it’s totally his fault. he put all his focus on hockey, but the blackhawks just keep losing and he keeps failing and it’s draining him. it’s drained him to the point where he physically cannot be present.

❅ pairing: connor bedard x reader

❅ content: angst

❅ word count: 1k

❅ prompt: hours outside in the snow - modern baseball

❅ warnings: none

❅ note: i also have a really fire poem written for this song prompt - mutuals dm me

❅ tags: @dream-girl06 @Summert158 @lekkerfrikandelletje @camiesully

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

I spent all of Christmas Eve fake angry at you for

Who knows what now or then

he wasn’t even mad. every point y/n had made was valid, every statement accurate.

“it’s like you don’t even care anymore!”

“i do care!”

“no, you’re always gone. you never check in.”

“that’s not true.”

“connor, as soon as you leave chicago, it’s like my number is no longer on your phone!”

he couldn’t remember anything else she had said. she was right. he was wrong. he was a terrible, sorry excuse for a boyfriend. she was a saint. she deserved better.

I spent all of Christmas Eve trying to get warmer

After standing outside for hours

Knowing at this point I'd be

Lucky to get any sleep

And I'll toss and turn until the early morning

after the argument, connor had stormed out of the apartment, more willing to face the chicago cold than his girlfriend’s gaze. the snow fell like tears, each snowflake landing perfectly on his eyelashes, mixing in with his sobs. as he kept walking down the street, he saw families in windows. bright, smiling, happy couples with laughing kids. candles in windows, trees with lights, street lamps glowing like the moon. his last straw was passing by a brownstone, a couple grinning ear to ear in matching pajamas on the first floor. he sat on the sidewalk, sinking into the snow, his head in his hands.

he was there for a few hours, when an elderly woman came up.

“son, are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m… i’m fine.”

“you should be home, it’s christmas.”

she walked with him back to his apartment. “i’m sure she loves you. don’t give up on her.”

y/n was asleep in their bed, with every good blanket. shivering, connor put on flannel pajama pants and a blackhawks hoodie, doing anything he could to warm up. he sat in front of the heater, his hands out close enough to burn, like he had been selling matches.

he curls up next to the heater, trying to conserve heat. all night, his teeth chattered and he tried to get comfortable on the floor, to no avail. he couldn’t sleep even if he was comfortable. she was on his mind.

'Cause what's better than seeing

What I'm missing daily?

every day was the same. she had lectures, lab, study group meetings. he had practices, games, media appearances. it was just too much. he could tell how much happier she was at uchicago, anyone could tell. sometimes, it felt like he only knew about her life from her instagram stories. her perfect, polished instagram stories. ones that screamed “single and loving it”. except, she wasn’t single and she was miserable.

“maybe if you treated me like your girlfriend instead of your roommate, i’d be happier around you.”

“i try, y/n! i try every day!”

“no, you don’t!”

“yes, i do!”

“you come home at 11pm, all “i’m so tired”, and when i try to do anything, you’re like “not tonight”.”

“that’s not my fault! sorensen has me on ice the entire game!”

“so you’re too tired to snuggle your girlfriend? too tired to say “i love you”? too tired to let me make sure you’re not bruised?”

“i can check myself for bruises!”

“that’s not the point, connor!”

“look, i’m sorry i don’t cuddle you. are you happy now?”

“god, connor, how do you not understand how much happier i am away from you?”

I guess what I'm trying to say is that

You might run, oh but

I won't hide, shed an

Ounce of light on my half-

Hopeless life

“i don’t know what to do, kevin. i love her so much.”

“tell her that. don’t let her go.”

“she’s already gone.”

he hung up the phone and pushed open the apartment door.

“y/n?”

“kitchen.”

he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “you feeling alright?”

“yeah, i’m fine.”

he pressed a short kiss to her neck, his lips lingering. “sure?”

“yes, i’m sure.”

“i love you.”

“love you too.”

he nuzzled his face against her shoulder.

“connor?”

“yes?”

“are you okay?”

“it’s… tough. on the ice.”

“i bet.”

“i feel like i’m failing everyone.”

“not me.”

“y/n, can you promise me something?”

“of course.”

“remember how i was during the off-season?”

“yeah?”

"Don't let me go back"

But since you've taken the time to read so carefully

Everything I've ever sent

I guess I'll spend the next few lines hoping and wishing

Yet thanking appropriately

she always read too much into things. everything was falling apart and it was all his fault. she deserves better. he knows better than to act like this, pretending he can be the guy she needs.

connor quietly made his way into their shared closet and began to pack his clothes, his toiletries, anything he would need. he filled his duffel bag and suitcase with his whole life, except his most important items: the framed picture of him and y/n, sitting on the nightstand by her phone, and the bracelet she had made him. he traced the characters on the beads, the glossy black “bedard 98” shining in the light of his phone flashlight.

he grabbed a piece of paper from her journal and a pen, her pink glitter gel pen, and began to write his last words to her. every word was about how he wasn’t enough, how sorry he was that he wasn’t there, how in another life, where he didn’t play hockey, they could’ve stayed together. he was not in a good place to be a good boyfriend and nothing brought him joy. she deserves joy. she deserves the world. but he couldn’t give her that.

to y/n

Please read later

'Cause I don't think I have the heart

To let you read this now

But if I had the heart, oh

You know that I know better

This isn't how you say aloud

Oh, say aloud:

"Don't let me go back"

don’t come looking.

love,

connor

[ohpuckno]

Hockeyblr is hilarious because every now and then, you’ll catch your mutuals cheering for teams you despise on your dash. It’s like discovering your dad has a secret second family. My brother in Christ, we were fighting on the frontlines together in the same lb no more than 24 hours ago, what happened

[anthonybanda]

CM PUNK & JEY USO - boys night out ! 040224

+ BONUS !

[lovecla]

TAKE IT EASY (OTHERWISE I’M LEAVING) ; connor bedard.

© property of lovecla, nhl masterlist, single chapter:

ᡣ𐭩 — pair: connor bedard x fmc (olivia)

ᡣ𐭩 — synopsis: in which connor bedard’s girlfiend, olivia, is tired of seeing her boyfriend destroy himself every single day.

ᡣ𐭩 — word count: 3.1k

ᡣ𐭩 — chapter warnings: inspired by the song “you” by chase atlantic, angst, hurt with a dash of comfort.

ᡣ𐭩 — from me to you: the second chase atlantic released this album i knew i had to write something inspired by it. i missed writing for bedsy and since he’s our golden, hardworking boy, i thought this was very fitting. hope u like it 🤍

ᯓᡣ𐭩

but you've been diggin' up the truth

haven't slept in like four nights now

blame it on substance abuse

out in the deep end, i'm swimmin', i'm swimmin' again

YOU WOKE up startled with the loud bang coming from somewhere inside your apartment, your whole body jumping and your heart starting to race inside your chest.

Now, almost fully awake, you stare at the clock sitting on your bedside table, reading the time. 4:13 a.m., and when you pat the other side of the bed, where your boyfriend of two years should be laying, you frown as you find it empty and lukewarm to the touch.

“Connor?” You whisper, scared to wake him up unnecessarily, even if you knew he wasn’t lying with you in bed. Again.

You get up, the fabric of his old Blackhawks sweater heating up your skin, as you put on your slippers and leave the bedroom, noticing traces of Connor’s absence here and there— his slippers aren’t by his side of the bed, his duffel bag isn’t on the hallway like it usually is, his water bottle isn’t on the couch like he had left it last night, when you both went no sleep at one in the morning.

So that’s why you don’t understand what he’s doing by the front door, ready to leave, even if he had only slept for three hours.

“Connor?” You call again, watching as his blue eyes look at you, surprise and guilt decorating his expression like a famous painting hanging on the Louvre’s wall. “What are you doing?”

Your voice is still soft, and despite the scare, your eyes can barely stay open. You’re tired, tonight was the first night you had allowed yourself to sleep freely since now you were done with your exams. And you were happy because you managed to convince Connor to come home earlier, at eleven instead of midnight, just so you could spend some time together, like you used to do when you started dating.

“Liv, hey,” he whispers, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

That’s when you realize what he’s doing. The bag, the stick on his hand, the outfit. He’s—

“Are you serious right now?” You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re going to the rink? At four in the morning?”

“Baby, you know I need to,” he tries to sound convincing and if it wasn’t for the fact that this is probably the hundredth time he’s done this, you would’ve actually believed him. “We have a game coming up and—”

“Yes, I am well aware of that, Connor. But you went to sleep at one. Two nights ago, you also went to sleep at one and woke up at five. And the night before, and the night before that too.”

You don’t try to hide your feelings anymore. You want him to know you’re upset, and you want him to know that this, whatever the hell he’s doing, isn’t okay.

“I know, baby, but you know I have to keep practicing so I can help the guys.” He’s now facing you, his body visibly tense.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Connor, what the hell. There are other twenty fucking people in your team, you’re not the only player there. It’s not your responsibility only!” You cover your face with your hands, truly upset.

“Liv,” he calls your name, and it hurts to even hear it, because his voice is so full of guilt and shame. It makes you feel sick. “You’re not being reasonable right now. This is the NHL. You know how hard I’ve worked for this. There are people counting on me.”

“And I’m not one of them?” You whisper, making eye contact again, only to realize you’re not strong enough to have this conversation at four in the morning.

“Liv—”

“It’s fine, Connor. Go to practice.” You sigh, making your way back to the bedroom, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears running down your cheeks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

you said, "take it easy, otherwise i'm leaving

yeah, i don't wanna stay and watch you die",

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CONNOR HAD an injury.

His jaw had been fractured, and he had to go to surgery to fix it. You were in the arena watching the game with Connor’s sister when it happened, and you had never been so scared.

You know Hockey is about hitting people as much as it is about playing and winning, but you won’t lie and say your heart doesn’t hurt inside your chest whenever you see Connor getting hurt on the ice.

And you aren’t dumb. You know that some players will purposefully hurt him just because he’s good. And even if people aren’t one hundred percent sure that that is what happened that night, you still remember the terrible feeling of losing when you were in the ambulance with Connor to the hospital, trying your hardest not to cry in front of anyone because you know what they would say.

She’s not tough enough to date a NHL player.

But you believed yourself to be tough. The only problem with all of this is that you knew Bedard would never take great care of himself, meaning that you’d have to be with him twenty-four-seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, if only he accepted your help.

Now, four weeks after the surgery, you’re inside the United Center, the Blackhawks arena in Chicago, stomping your feet as you walk towards the rink, the sound of your steps being muffled by Connor’s constant skating.

“Connor.”

You have to call him a few times so that he can finally get out of his head and look at you; once again, those blameworthy eyes looking down at you, as he skates closer to the benches where you were standing.

“Liv.”

“What do you think you’re doing, Connor?” You snap. “You’re supposed to be resting. You’re definitely not supposed to be on the ice.”

“I know, but my jaw is just fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” He removes his helmet, running his gloved hand through his hair.

“It didn’t seem like it was fine last night when you had to swallow a bunch of pain pills because it was hurting. Connor, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?” You can feel your face heating up, and you’re trying so hard to keep your shit together but— “You have to allow your body to rest. If you keep up with this, you won’t get better—”

“That’s not an option, Liv, and you know it,” he hissed back, now looking more distressed than guilty. “This is my life. And I did allow myself to rest, I spent four weeks doing absolutely nothing, just like the doctor asked me to.”

“He said six to eight weeks, Connor,” you sigh, tired, not actually believing you’re having this conversation with him. “Please. Just think about how I feel when I know you’re not well enough to be here yet you still are.”

He pressed his lips together, placing his stick on the floor next to him and moving his helmet around his hands.

“Liv, you know I love you but this— Hockey is what I am. It’s what I do. You have to understand—”

“And I have done nothing but understand you!” You shout, finally losing your cool and snapping at him, your loud voice echoing through the empty arena’s walls. Connor takes a step back, but now you’ve already started and you won’t can’t stop. “Ever since we met, I have been nothing but understanding. I stood by your side at all times, even when what you were doing wasn’t healthy for you!”

“Olivia—”

“I went to sleep alone and cried more nights than you could ever imagine,” your voice cracks, and your stubborn tears are already rolling down your face. “I still supported you no matter what. I cooked your meals, I packed your bags, I went to those ridiculous gala dinners and I did it all with pleasure because I love you and you’re supposed to do these types of things for the people you love!”

“Baby—”

“So you don’t get to stand in front of me and ask me to understand how badly you treat yourself and how you don’t care about anything else besides Hockey when I gave up everything to be with you!” You try to wipe your face, stepping back when Connor tries to reach you. He frowns when you flinch. “I gave up my freedom because I wanted to be with you and God knows I’d do it all over again because I fucking love you.”

“Baby, I know all of this and I’m grateful, I really am but—”

You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head. “There’s always a but with you.”

“Hockey is important to me, baby.”

“And I am not.”

The silence after your words is cruel, and it tears you apart, scratching your skin and making your insides hurt. His blue eyes, your favorite color to ever exist, are also filled with tears and you hate to see it. You hate to feel bad about saying these things.

The thing about loving someone is that the thread between giving up yourself for them and giving yourself to them is really thin.

You love Connor Bedard. Have loved him for years now. He makes you happy, he listens to you, he’s your best friend.

“You know that’s not true, Liv,” he gets closer, the sound of his skates hitting the ice making you want to puke. “You know you’re more important to me than any of this. You know I love you.”

“No, Connor, I don’t,” you whisper, smiling even when all you feel is pain. “I can’t do this. I won’t watch you d-destroy yourself and not do anything.”

He removes his gloves quickly and grabs your wrist, cold fingers holding your arm down. “Olivia, wait.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I need time. Sorry.”

You don’t look at his face as you leave the arena, and you certainly don’t listen to his voice shouting your name, over and over again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

i don't know what to do

i’m stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop

ᯓᡣ𐭩

HE WATCHES you talking to the children from afar.

You’re sitting on the floor, and it’s so obvious you’re better different from everyone else at the party. The children surround you like you’re their favorite princess or superhero, all of them wanting a little bit of your attention.

Connor feels like he should be offended, since those kids were there to see his team in the first place. It was some kind of reunion Foligno arranged with the media team, inviting some of his son’s friends and some other children with less opportunities.

But he isn’t. First of all, he’s thankful because if it weren’t for your charm, he would be the one having to deal with the children, something he wasn’t very fond of. Sure, he likes kids and he’s happy they like him, but if he could avoid social interactions, he would.

Besides that, watching you happy is something that he had missed, and he feels like shit for it. He knows he hasn’t been a good boyfriend, and he knows he should do better. Ever since that one night at the rink, you haven’t been the same.

But if he thinks about it too much, he realizes that you haven’t been yourself for a long time now.

And it hurts.

It hurts because he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, the very first girl he fell in love with, but he also loves Hockey. As a young player in the NHL, he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself to others, and since people give him so much attention, he needs to keep on being a good player.

He doesn’t know how to balance things, how not to spend hours and hours without end on the ice, muting all of his doubts and worries while he keeps throwing the puck in the net.

You smile at a little boy who’s now handing you a flower, and Connor smiles as he watches you ask the little boy to put it on your hair, laughing when the other kids stop their babbling to clap at your newest look.

You make eye contact with him, and he feels himself getting devastated when he notices that the shine in your eyes lessened a little when you looked at him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

(why do you hate me?)

i could never hate you, despite the words that you've been sayin'

i’ve been having breakthroughs

and hoping you were proud, just maybe

anxiety drives me insane, and my newest addiction is pain

i know i said it was a ‘phase’

five years later, still stuck in my brain

ᯓᡣ𐭩

CLOSING THE front door with a sigh, you let your first sob out. The tears won’t stop, and you don’t bother to wipe them, it would be pointless.

All you want to do is slide down to the floor and stay there, letting the hardwood hurt your back and get you dirty, but you can’t. Your car decided to break in the middle of the road on your way back from college, and you had to walk until you found the nearest telephone to call your insurance company, which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for the terrible storm going on, the water drops penetrating your thin shirt like you weren’t even wearing anything in the first place.

It’s just one of those days where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong, but you’re already so fed up with life lately that this all seems too much.

“Liv? What happened, baby?”

You lift your head up faster than you should've, because now you can see tiny, black dots floating around in your vision. You weren’t expecting to see Connor at your house, much less wearing the apron you gave him when he prepared his first dish by himself two years ago— a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Connor,” you whisper, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I texted you,” he says, removing the apron that read “cook it yourself, cunt”. “What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

You don’t say anything, mostly because you’re certain that if you let one little word slip past your lips you’ll start crying uncontrollably once again, so you just shake your head and leave your things on the floor beside you, walking past him so you could get to your room.

He’s quick to follow, though, watching as you remove your wet clothes and get in the shower, both of you silent and lost in your own thoughts.

Not talking to Connor about your feelings feels weird, but you can’t help but feel like you’re holding him back. It’s sickening, because all you want is to stay with him and be happy, but sometimes loving is also letting go.

You get out of the shower, feeling the tears coming back when you spot the change of clothes Connor left for you on top of the toilet lid— his shirt, his pants, your favorite panties.

He knows you too well. He knows who you are as a person and he knows who you want to become. He knows your fears and your ambitions, he knows your dreams and hopes. He knows what you stand for and what you absolutely despise.

He knows you.

You change, and leave the bathroom quickly, wanting nothing more than to lay down and sleep for days.

“Some lady from your insurance company just called, saying your car will be ready next week,” Connor says, and only then you noticed he’d been standing next to your wardrobe the entire time, crossed arms in front of his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me your car was broken?”

You shrug. “I knew you were at practice. Didn’t want to bother you.”

“So you walked home? In the rain?” You can tell by his tone that he’s upset, but there’s nothing much you can do.

“I mean, what did you want me to do?” You scoff. “My phone died and I had no cash on me. And honestly, we both know that you would never leave the ice for something like this.”

“Liv, you know that’s not true,” he whispers, getting closer to you. “You know that I’d leave at any moment if I even knew you needed me.”

“Whatever,” you mumble before reaching for your phone in your bag, the device thankfully still dry, and put it to charge, removing the hundreds of pillows you have on top of your bed and throwing them on the carpet floor, already visualizing the amazing sleep you’d have.

“What are you doing?” You feel his hands on your back, his body closer to yours than it’s been in a while. “You haven’t had dinner yet. I cooked…”

His sad tone makes you break again, and you hate yourself for it. But you still love him so much, and it hurts to see what you’ve become.

“Liv, please, tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, turning you around and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll fix it, I promise. Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“Can you fix us?” You whisper, resting your head against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. He smells like home and the winter. “Can you fix what we’ve become?”

He’s quiet for a while, long fingers caressing your hair, like he used to do back when you had started dating.

“I’m trying, I swear I am,” he whispers back, and you can finally hear genuineness in his voice. “You’re everything to me, baby, and I won’t lose you.”

“I’m not asking you to give up on Hockey,” you explain, watching as your tears stain his shirt. “I’m just asking you to take care of yourself. Connor, I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry,” he kisses your cheek, the first time his lips touch you in more than two weeks. “I’m so sorry.”

You listen to his heartbeat and sigh, choosing not to say anything. You know the only way you can find out if he’s being genuine or not is with time, because only it will tell if you’re fixable or not.

But as you let yourself sleep close to his body that night, losing yourself between the sheets and his arms, you can finally breathe again.

Because he said he’ll try, and Connor Bedard always tries his hardest with everything.

[ruinix]

Quinn is spinning

(Chicago Blackhawks @ Vancouver Canucks, November 16, 2024)

[cenestpasaudrey]

i want a huggy and bedsy pool match since they both declare themselves bad at it to see which one's worse hahaha

oohh and a jack hughes and brady tkachuk pictionary match too hahahah

[lvrhughes]

Trick or Treat | C. Bedard

pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!reader

word count: 0.74k

summary: you and connor dress up for the trick or treaters.

warnings: none?

not my gif!

“I don’t get why we’re dressed up.” 

Connor’s voice drifted down the stairs, reaching where you stood at the bottom with a bowl of candy, waiting in preparation for the treat or treaters. 

“Because it’s fun.” 

You called back, waiting for him to walk down the stairs, waiting to see the costume you had put together. 

“Whatever you say, baby.”

His voice grew louder as he walked down the stairs, finding your eyes quickly as you turned to face him. 

“Oh my god.” 

His face flushed at the words, a shy smile covering his features as he reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you against him. 

“Think I look that good, baby?” “You look so good.” 

You returned, wrapping your arms around him, the bowl of candy forgotten on the table now. Pressing your face against his chest while you felt him laugh at your actions, leaving a soft kiss before pulling back. 

“Wear this everyday.” 

He laughed harder at the words, taking a moment to catch his breath before answering you with a kiss, feeling your body melt against his. 

“I am not spending everyday dressed like Flynn Ryder.” 

“I wish you would.” 

You shook your head, leaning back to take in his outfit once more, earning another laugh from him. 

“Do you want to stop checking me out and hand out candy yet?” 

His words had heat rising to your face, shaking your head as you moved away from him to retrieve the bowl again. 

“No need to call me out.” 

His arms slipped around your waist as you turned, pressing his body against your back as you  grabbed the bowl, peppering soft kisses to your neck. 

“I was checking you out too, don’t worry.” 

He hummed against your skin, earning more warmth to your cheeks as he lead you to the couch, moving around you to lay down before motioning for you to follow.

Laying between his legs with your head on his chest whilst you waited for the children, Tangled playing softly in the background as you stared at Connor.

“What are you staring for?” “You’re just so pretty.” 

“Really? Cause I think you’re way too pretty.” 

He smiled back, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Letting your body melt into his once more as his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping your body pressed into his as he kissed you. 

The soft knocking on the door pulled your attention away from Connor, leaning up and back to shoot him a soft smile before moving towards the door, looking behind to ensure he was following. Opening the door quickly to reveal the front porch filled with children. A group seemingly all dressed as princesses, plus a single prince, with their parents standing behind them smiling. 

“Trick or Treat!” 

All their voices mingled together, making a smile grow on your lips as they held their buckets out towards you. 

You turned to grab the bowl that Connor held, taking it from his grip to pass a few pieces of candy to each child, wishing them a goodnight as they left. 

Closing the door and turning back to Connor, who held a soft smile on his face as you leaned into him. Letting out a soft sigh as his arms wrapped around you, moving to discard the bowl just before. 

“They’re so cute.”

Connor’s grip tightening around your waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of you head before nodding with you. 

“Yeah they were.” He pressed another kiss to your hair. “I can’t wait to have our own family one day.” 

You pulled back slightly, looking at him. Feeling his hands shifting on  your waist to draw soft shapes while you continued to stand by the door. 

“You want that?” 

“More than anything.” 

He had a soft smile on his face as he spoke, watching you closely as you sent a smile back his way. His hands never stopping their soft movements on your waist, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

“I can’t wait to have a family with you too.” 

Connor’s smile grew at the words, moving quickly to press a kiss to your lips, your hands moving to cup his cheeks as he did. 

“I love you.” 

He whispered the words against your lips, earning a smile before you whispered them back before pressing against his lips once more, letting your body melt against his.

[snekjin]

2 minutes for slashing | chi @ cgy | 15 oct 2024

[hockeyboi]

CONNOR BEDARD | POSTGAME - CHI @ NYR 12.10.24

[nottodayjustin]

December 5th 2024 best hockey tweet(s) of the day

[ijustdontlikepeople]

NHL x internet 7/?

[thegreat2353]

NHL hockey is officially back

[ohpuckno]

Introducing new hockey fans to your favourite player is so embarrassing because they’ll ask, ‘Oh, is that them?’ just as the camera cuts to your fav player on the bench doing the most heinous, disgusting, out of pocket behaviour.

Then you have no choice but to double down like, ‘Yeah… they’re my favourite,’ as you watch in horror as they blow a snot rocket or spit on the floor. Girl please stop, you’re embarrassing me.

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ …𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗔𝗗, 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘⎥𝗖𝗕98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!Crosby!reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Connor and Y/N Crosby, Sidney's daughter, are in a secret relationship and are outed when she goes to the All Stars with her dad

Notes: The italics section is the flashback to how Connor and Y/N met. This is my new longest fic, and man I got carried away writing how Y/N and Connor met. Not really proofread, so hope for the best. Requested by anonymous.

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Word Count: 2.3k

It’s not exactly unexpected, for Connor Bedard and Y/N Crosby to be dating. His childhood idol, her father. Their lives are interconnected by a web of hockey players, former teammates, and friendships a mile deep. But, the caveat is, no one actually knows they are together. 

Y/N knew her dad would lose his mind when he found out who exactly her boyfriend is. From the time she was old enough to date, the rule was no hockey players, absolutely no teammates, and especially no rookies. Will he find out? Eventually, but not any time soon if Y/N has anything to say about it.

-

“I have tickets to most of the Canadian games, and I want to watch them win gold, in person. I was planning on going to the condo. No Dad, I'm fine. No, you don’t need to have Auntie Taylor come with me. I’m absolutely taking advantage of the fact that we have a place right where the World Juniors are happening. I’m seventeen for God’s sake, and I’ve been fairly independent for years. I’ll be fine.” Y/N says, on the phone with her dad. 

“I know, but you’re still my little girl. I’ll always want to protect you, no matter how old you get.” her dad, Sidney, says.

“I know dad, but this will be good practice for when I’m away at university.” She tells him teasingly.

“Uhhhg, don’t remind me.” he groans, “I trust you not to burn the place down, and try not to go overboard, with anything. The credit card for food and stuff is in the safe, and you have your own for anything else. Call me, if you need anything.”

“Thanks dad, I will.”

“Love you honey.”

Love you too, dad. Bye.”

There, that’s settled, Y/N thinks to herself. She is already in Cole Harbour, staying with her grandparents for Christmas. They already know her plans, and she convinced –not that she needed any convincing– her aunt Taylor to come with her for a girls trip. She flips her laptop open, hits play on Downton Abbey, and finishes her packing. 

“Tay, are you ready yet?” Y/N calls a few hours later. She hefts her suitcase down the stairs, shouldering a backpack.

“Yeah bug, just put my bags in the car. Bring yours out here too.” Taylor replies, “We can be on the road in twenty if we hurry.”

“Make it fifteen.” Y/N challenges with a grin.

The preliminary round of the tournament passes fast. After the shocking Game 1 loss, Canada bounces back and plows through every game afterwards. An exciting quarterfinals win against Slovakia has Canada set to play USA in the semifinals. A match up that always promises an electric game.

After the quarterfinal game, Y/N and Taylor head back to the dressing rooms and player’s entrance for a shortcut to the parking lot. They both have access, thanks to Sid. They talk excitedly about Bedard’s OT winner, a wicked 3-on-1 goal. 

“That was incredible.” Y/N exclaims. She’s no stranger to good hockey, but seeing a player that young, one her own age, to have such amazing talent is unreal to see. 

“Yes it was-” Taylor starts, but is cut off by a man in a suit stalking towards them.

“Hey! You two aren’t allowed back here. Players and staff only. Who do you think you are? Waltzing around here like you own the place? No respect anymore.” He rants before someone grabs him, pulling him away from Y/N and Taylor.

“I am so sorry about Randy. I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim apologizes, “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you have permission. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Wait, you’re Crosby’s daughter, aren't you? This makes a lot more sense now.”

“Yes I am, and we have permission. I can’t think of anything, it’s not necessary.” Y/N says. But Jim is determined, knowing who she is now. He offers to introduce the women to the team. They agree, and after Jim explains the situation to Randy, they all head back towards Canada’s dressing room. Talking the whole way, Jim explains that the team has a place rented for the tournament where the boys can hang out and relax. 

“If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome. I won’t tell them who you are, I’ll let that happen naturally.” Jim says with a wink. “I want to see the look on their faces. It’s too bad your dad couldn't make it. That would really blow their socks off.” The group laughs and waits for Randy to make sure all the guys are decent, and beacons them in with a sheepish look, apologizing once again. The introduction is basic, no announcement or anything. Taylor and Y/N meet the rest of the staff first, quickly becoming engrossed in conversation. 

“So,” the head coach says, “Crosby’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.” Y/N replies.

“Coach, did you just say Crosby's daughter? She's here? Holy shit!” one of the players exclaims, joining their little group. “I’m Brandt, nice to meet you. Is your dad here, by chance?” He says, very quickly. The energy rolls right off of him.

“No, he’s not, unfortunately. West Coast road trip.” Y/N says, failing to hide a giggle. 

“Wanna mess with the guys with me?” Brandt asks, a scheming look on his face.

“Always.”

“Ok, I’m going to introduce you around, but not mention your last name. I want to see how long it takes the guys to figure out who you are.”

“Oh I like that.” They grin at each other, and make their way around the room. Before long, the whole team is standing or sitting close together, chatting with Y/N. The adrenaline can still be felt in the dressing room. 

“So how long are you in town for?” Dylan asks, “Hopefully long enough to watch us win gold.”

Y/N and Brandt exchange a look, “I’m planning on it. I don’t have to be back in Pittsburgh until the tenth.”

“Pittsburgh? You came all the way up here, to watch a Canadian team win? That makes no sense.” Logan wonders, looking confused.

“Oh I’m Canadian, I just live in Pittsburg with my dad. I was up visiting my grandparents for Christmas.” Y/N says. It is getting awfully difficult to keep a straight face. 

“Where do your grandparents live?” That comes from Olen.

“Cole Harbour.”

“Does that mean you've met Sidney Crosby?” Ethan asks. 

“Yup, see him all the time.” She bites back a smile. Brandt has to turn around and take a deep, shuddering breath so he doesn’t give them away. Connor sees him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Wait, you’re Y/N Crosby!” Connor says, standing up just as Y/N and Brandt burst out laughing. The rest of the boys look shocked as the two struggle to stop laughing. Connor grins, chuckling as Y/N wipes honest-to-goodness tears from her eyes. The staff and Taylor laugh amongst themselves, watching the young folks. 

“Guilty as charged.” She says breathlessly, silently wondering if Brandt is going to die of oxygen deprivation at this point. His face is pretty red. Now the questions are really flowing by the time Brandt finally regains some composure. The excited chatter doesn’t stop at the restaurant, either. Y/N and Taylor are invited to stay. As the evening winds down, Y/N finds herself with Connor, conversation flowing easily. 

“Nice goal, by the way. Dad was impressed.” Y/N says, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Really?” Connor flushes. Cute.

“Yeah, he sees a lot in you.”

“That is…I have no words.” He admits. “Do you, um, do you think you’d want to sit with my family for the rest of the games? I want to talk to you more, and um…I’m just going to stop talking before I make a fool out of myself.”

“I’d love to.”

Connor and Y/N spend a lot of time together in the following days. She sits with his family during the final, and celebrates with them after they win gold.

“We did it!” Connor shouts, picking Y/N up and spinning her around. There is a moment when he sets her down where her arms are still on his shoulders and his hands are on her waist. The noise fades away, just the two of them in a little bubble. “Can I have your number? I’d like to keep talking to you, and take you out sometime.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She replies.

-

Now, over a year and 10 months into dating later, Connor and Y/N are both in Toronto for the All Stars. 

“Hey baby.” Connor says, putting his phone away when Y/N slips into the empty visitors dressing room.

“Hey Con.” She goes to him easily, settling comfortably into his open arms. He puts his chin on her head and tightens his hold on her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too.” She tips her head up, meeting Connor in the middle for a sweet kiss. They go back to their hug, Y/N tucked against his chest, feeling warm again in the cold arena. They simply stand like that, swaying gently and soaking up the moment. They get so wrapped up in each other that they fail to hear voices outside the door. Connor goes to kiss Y/N again, but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Their heads snap to the door, wide eyed and scared.

“Y/N ANNA CROSBY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Sidney yells furiously, steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character. Nate is standing close behind him, and Cale, Mathew Barzal, and Brady Tkachuk stand in the doorway. Connor and Y/N take a step back from each other, but keep their hands tightly clasped.

“How dare you not tell me about this. You know the rules, I expect you to follow them.”

“I-” She begins.

“And you,” Sid says, pointing at Connor, “I expected better from you. You’re a good kid, but I have rules for a reason.” Y/N grips Connor’s hand, squeezing three times. 

“You can’t control me like this, Dad. I’ve never had a real relationship because of you. So much of my life is wrapped up in hockey that it was easy to find my person there, and if it wasn’t a hockey-playing boyfriend, it was a hockey fan boyfriend which is worse. All they ever wanted to talk about was you, they never wanted me for who I am. Or you just plain scared them off because ‘no one is good enough for my daughter so why should she even bother’.” Y/N says back to him. Her chest is heaving and she is fighting off tears. 

“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me this. How long have you two been together anyways?” Sid asks, still pissed off.

“Ten months.” Connor replies, voice strong and true despite the situation. He is nervous, of course, but he loves Y/N too much to let his childhood idol have much of an impact.

“TEN MONTHS!” Sid exclaims, incredulous that his daughter kept this secret, “Bloody hell. What possessed you to keep this from me?”

“This exact reaction that I knew would happen. I knew that if I told you when Connor first asked me out, you would flat-out forbid me to see him, and that wouldn’t have ended the way you wanted anyway. At least this way the two of us can act as a united front and you can see that this isn’t bad. We are both 18, legal adults. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Sid stays silent. He is still angry, but the figurative steam has gone away. Nate and the others hover around the door.

Y/N continues, “I get it, Dad. You just want to protect me, and I love you for it. But I’m not a little kid anymore, I can’t be sheltered forever. And Connor’s good to me. You know he would be.” She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew that if I did, you would react exactly the way you are. I wanted to be able to figure out my relationship without my dad looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

Sid’s face falls at her monologue. He can finally understand what Y/N was trying to say for years. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had no intention for it to go that far. It is hard to watch you grow up, but I need to grow up some too and understand that you are an adult now. In my attempts to protect you, I drove you straight into what I always knew would happen. Thankfully, you picked a good one.” Sid pulls his daughter into a hug, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Thanks dad, for apologizing. I know you meant well, but I don’t think this wasn’t the best way to get you to see my side of it” Y/N quips, a wry smile on her face. 

“I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me, but I’d rather it was you than a lot of other guys” Sid states, reaching out to shake Connor’s hand, “but if you hurt her, I have a lot of power in this game.”

“I know,” Connor says, eyes focused on Y/N. A look so full of love even Sidney can’t deny it, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Awwww.” The trio looks up to see the other four guys with their hands clasped over their hearts, cute pouts on their lips. 

“The babies are in love.” Cale says with a grin.