hockey glove

Drop the Gloves (Auston Matthews)

Prompt: Can you do a auston matthews one where you’re secretly dating him but you’re also marner’s  sister. And the only reason you tell Mitch you guys are dating in bc Mitch keeps trying to set you up with guys and one day auston gets jealous when one of mitchs ‘perfect matches for you’ gets too close and auston gets protective and lets it slip out that you guys are dating. Thanks! Xxx

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested: mmhmm

Includes: swear words

Originally posted by willynylanders

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That video of the Leafs doing batting practice at the Rogers Centre was great. This is the kind of stuff I like seeing them doing outside of games/practice

Design for Sport

#tbt With SuperBowlLI on Sunday, we look back to MoMA’s first sports-related exhibition, 1962’s Design for Sport. From its inception, MoMA had been active in establishing an inclusive concept of modernist design: of this exhibition, Time magazine wrote that encountering sporting design at MoMA was no more or less surprising than seeing classic cars, Japanese houses, or geodesic domes. More than 100 examples of sports equipment, including a football, baseball bats, and hockey gloves, were assembled under a tent in the Museum’s Sculpture Garden. An essay in the catalogue noted that the canoes and tennis rackets were in fact not so out of place next to the bronze sculptures: for curator Arthur Drexler, not only were form and function ideally united in these objects, but their design is in harmony with the classical concept that passionately committed competition is a virtue far more important than winning.

See images of the installation and more at 21 of #52exhibitions

Hockey Camp - Auston Matthews (Part 8)

Auston Matthews x Reader

Word Count: 3140 (whoops)

Warnings: Mentions of blood

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

A/N: I’ve officially passed the 15k word mark with this story, which is crazy considering it didn’t exist a week ago. Thank you so much for all your support. Hope you enjoy!


You’re sitting on the bench in the girl’s change room, fully dressed in hockey equipment. Practice starts in less than five minutes, but for once in your life, you’re not excited to go on the ice. You can’t stop thinking back to last night. Everywhere you look, Auston appears behind your eyes, small and isolated on the bench as you turned your back on him and walked away.

Steph, even though she’s still buzzing from her great night with Mitch, notices something’s wrong. You’d put on a good enough act last night, telling her you were tired, before rolling over and crying silently into your pillow until you fell asleep. But today, you feel both mentally and physically exhausted, and the day has barely just begun.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” you mumble, feeling tears well up in your eyes. When had you become so emotional?

“You talked to Auston last night, didn’t you?”

You nod sombrely.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well.” Steph gives you such a look of concern and sympathy that you break down. You choke out a sob. “Oh, Y/N, it’s okay.” She walks over to you and wraps her arms around you as far as she can reach, as you’re both in hockey equipment.

You stay there for a few minutes, Steph comforting you while you cry huge crocodile tears. You had no right to behave this way, as you had brought this upon yourself, but you couldn’t help but feel awful about the entire situation.

“Alright, I know you’re upset, but we can’t stay inside the dressing room all day,” Steph says, letting go of you. “Are you okay to go out on the ice? If you’re not, I can tell them you’re sick.”

“No,” you croak, before clearing your throat. “No, it’ll look worse if I don’t go.”

“Alright, as long as that’s what you think is best.”

You nod, standing up. You grab your stick and gloves and head out onto the ice.

The cool air in the rink dries your tears within a couple minutes, and you begin to feel better as you skate around the ice, warming up your legs. You breathing falls in time with the crisp, rhythmic sound of your blades cutting into the ice.

When the coach calls everybody over, Steph catches your eye. You smile back at her genuinely, not feeling like you have to force it. The ice has always been your home, and its familiarity soothes you, even when you’re in the most emotional of states.

“Good morning everyone.”

“Good morning coach,” the group choruses.

“Today, we’re going to be doing something a little unorthodox, but I think it’s a beneficial exercise for everyone. I’ve made a list of pairs, each containing one boy and one girl. Please pay attention when your name is called out, as I’m not going to waste time repeating myself.” He grabs a clipboard from the edge of the boards and begins reading out names.

Inside your gloves, you cross your fingers, praying you don’t get placed with Auston.

“…Stephanie LaChance and Mitchell Marner…”

You watch as Steph and Mitch both blush and high-five each other.

“…Y/N Y/L/N and William Nylander…”

You let out a huge breath. Thank goodness. Will scoots around the other players and sidles up to you. “Hey there partner.”

“Hey there yourself.”

“What do you think the drill is?”

“No clue. I hope it’s not checking though, because that would be a little unfair.”

He grins at you. “Why, you scared of me?”

“Hardly.” You take one look at his boyish face and floppy blond hair and roll your eyes. “But we’re nowhere close to being in the same weight class.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m fat?”


“I don’t like you anymore.”

“Good, because I never did.”


“The truth hurts.”

Your banter is cut short by the coach. “Alright, now that everyone has their partners, I want you to split yourselves evenly across the four corners. You’ll see that a net has been placed in each corner. I want you and your partner to each choose a side to stand on. I will be with each group shortly for further instruction. Goalies, meet Richard in the middle.”

Everyone splits up, and you and Will choose the far right corner. However, so does Auston. When he spots you, he taps his partner’s shoulder and whispers, but still loud enough that you can hear, “Can we go to a different corner? I think the left one needs more people.”

“Uh, sure,” his partner responds.

But as Auston and his partner turn to skate away, the coach comes up. “Whoah, whoah, where do you two think you’re going?”

“To the other corner, sir,” Auston explains politely.

“Do you mind staying here? We already have one too many over there. Just trying to make the numbers even.”

“Sure, no problem,” Auston says in the same polite tone, but you can tell he’s lying.

“Thanks,” he pats Auston on the shoulder before turning to face the rest of your group. “Alright ladies and gents, this is a simple drill, but it requires some effort. A puck will be tossed into the corner by one of you waiting in line, and each pair will start on opposite sides of the net. I want you to battle for the puck, and try to shoot and score. However, you’re not allowed to come up above the hashmarks or below the crease. I want this to be a battle in a contained space, so if the puck is played outside the boundaries, the drill is automatically over, got it?”

Everyone nods.

“There will be no body checking, however there will be body contact. Guys, don’t go easy on your partner because she’s a ‘girl’. Trust me, you’re not doing yourself any favours by letting her win. Okay? Listen for the whistle, and then you can start.”

Will reaches over and taps the toe of your skate with his stick. “You ready?” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you ready?”


The whistle blows and you both take off into the corner after the puck. You’re slightly faster and get there first, but Will’s body crashes against yours, pinning you to the boards. The puck spurts forwards a bit and you kick it up to your stick before Will can grab it. You bend low, pushing him off you and drop your shoulder into his chest as you head towards the net. You’re almost within shooting range when he lifts your stick, stealing the puck away. You nearly fall, but manage to regain balance and block his shot with your skate blade. He slashes your stick, taking the puck from you once again, but you push him out towards the boards so he can’t shoot.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the drill. You both skate quickly out of the corner to make way for the next pair.

“You’re stronger than you look, Y/L/N,” Will says, giving you a high-five.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Nylander.”

You run the drill through three more times, Will scoring once and you twice. When the coach skates over to the group and tells you to switch partners, Will shakes your hand (as well as you can shake hands when you both have hockey gloves on) and says, “It was a pleasure losing to you.”

You laugh and smile at him. “It was a pleasure beating you.”

“Y/N,” the coach calls, and you twist around to look at him. “I want you to go with Auston and demo for the next round.”

You’re not even surprised. At this point, you swear the universe has a personal vendetta against you and just wants to make everything as awkward and uncomfortable as possible. You sigh, lining up opposite to Auston.

“Alright everyone, pay attention. I want you to watch how both Y/N and Auston battle in the corners and tell me what’s effective about both of their techniques.” He turns to you and Auston. “Ready?”

The whistle blows, and without any hesitation you power forward towards the puck, skates leaving deep indents in the ice. You and Auston reach it at the same time, but you swing your body around to pin him against the boards. You manage to grab the puck, but he’s much bigger than Will, and breaks your hold easily. He drops his shoulder into you, knocking you to your knees. In a flash, he has the puck and is winding up for a shot. But you’re not about to let him win this easy. You don’t have enough time to get to your feet, so you extend the upper half of your body outwards.

The puck slams into your ribs so hard the breath is knocked out of you. Pain erupts through the left side of your body and your vision blurs. However, there’s no time to waste gasping for breath on the ground. You force yourself to get up and snag the puck before he can get his own rebound.

This time, when he goes to hit you, you’re ready. You bend low, squatting down so your legs are nearly at 90 degrees with your butt. His body collides with yours, but you remain on your skates and the puck is on your stick. You curve your body away, protecting it from his long reach. He tries to lift your stick, but you press it firmly into the ground, not giving him an inch.

You battle for the puck for another thirty seconds, but neither of you manage to score before the coach blows the play dead. You stop sharply, panting.

“Okay, who wants to tell me why Y/N’s play was effective in stopping Auston from scoring?”

A short girl raises her hand. “Y/N used her body as a shield. She wasn’t afraid to give it up to block the puck, even when Auston went to shoot. That took major guts, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you say, smiling at her.

“Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Auston suddenly blurts out.

“What?” You turn to face him.

“Your mouth - it’s bleeding.”

You reach through your cage and touch your lip. When you pull your hand away it’s covered in blood that drips from your fingers onto the ice. It’s only then you become aware of the metallic taste in your mouth.

“Oh, I am bleeding,” you state rather stupidly.

The coach skates over and peers at your split lip. “Auston, would you take her to the trainer? Nancy’s in change room B.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, hooking his arm through yours and leading you off the ice.

“You know I didn’t break my leg, right? You don’t have to hold on to me.”

“But I do - safety first. I don’t trust you not to faceplant.”

“Thank you for your resounding amount of faith in me,” you respond sarcastically.


When you get to change room B, Nancy takes one look at you and the bloodstains on your jersey and exclaims, “Oh my, what happened?”

“I’m not sure actually. I think I may have bitten my lip by accident when he hit me with the puck.”

“Where did he get you with the puck?”

“My ribs. There’s probably a bruise.”

Nancy turns to Auston. “You have a lot of apologizing to do, young man,” she scolds him, wagging a finger jokingly.

But Auston bows his head and replies with a serious, “I know.”

Nancy helps you up onto the table. “Alright, let’s get your equipment off - Auston, you can head back to practice. I’m all good here.”

“No, um,” he stammers. “It’s okay - I want to help. I feel bad, considering I made her bite her lip and all.”

She smiles at him. “Awesome. Do you want to undo her skates for me then?”

“Sure,” he says, throwing his gloves and stick to the side and unbuckling his helmet. As Nancy removes your helmet, Auston gently picks up your leg with one hand and pulls at your skate laces. As he unties the knot, a portion of his brown hair flops over his eyes, and your fingers twitch to reach out and smooth it back. Instead, you sit back and relax as he undoes both of your skates before sliding them off, his touch so soft and caring that your resentment towards him lessens slightly.

“Alright, this might sting a bit,” Nancy explains. You zero in on the wad of cotton inches from your face. It smells strongly of alcohol. “Open your mouth for me please.”

You open your mouth, closing your eyes in preparation for the pain you know is coming. As Nancy dabs your lower lip with the cotton, you feel a warm hand grab onto yours and squeeze it. You squeeze back, hard, and hiss as the alcohol disinfects the cut. A thumb rubs over the back of your hand comfortingly.

“Almost done, you’re doing great,” Nancy murmurs, dabbing the cotton wad on your lip a couple more times before she pulls away.

You open your eyes to see Nancy holding a tube of something.

“What’s that?” you mumble, your now swollen lip making it increasingly difficult to speak.

“Medical glue. I’m going to put some on your lip to make sure it heals up.”

“No stitches?”

“Nope - which is great news, because lip stitches normally leave a big scar. This won’t sting, it’ll just make your lip feel numb. It also has a funny taste, so try not to get your tongue too close.”


As Nancy spreads the cool glue onto your lip, you realize that he’s still holding your hand, his thumb making slow circles on the skin above your knuckles. You have to force yourself not to smile.

After Nancy’s finished with your lip, her and Auston help get the rest of your equipment off so she can take a look at your ribs.

“I don’t think any are broken - just sore.”

Auston pipes up: “I wouldn’t be so sure, Y/N, my shot’s pretty hard.”

“Big ego much?”

He laughs and continues to take off your shin pad. When his hands linger on your calf, you feel your cheeks warm. Even though you’ve sworn off any sort of relationship with Auston, it does not change the way your body reacts to him.

Once all your equipment is off, and you’re left standing in your under armour, Nancy pulls the one side of your shirt up, exposing the part of your ribs that got hit.

Auston whistles. “That’s a good one. Would you be mad if I said I’ve actually impressed myself?”

“Is it that bad?”

“You can see for yourself.” Nancy guides you over to the mirror in the bathroom.

You gasp as you take in the massive bruise that has bloomed across your ribs, already blue in colour and extremely painful-looking.

“I swear, it doesn’t hurt as much as it looks!”

“Maybe not now, but by tomorrow it will. I’m pretty sure you’re looking at a deep tissue bruise.” She takes one glance at the expression on your face and reassures you: “But don’t worry, it’s treatable. It should only take two to six weeks to fully heal.”

A pit settles in your stomach. “Six weeks?” you exclaim, fighting back tears. “I can’t afford to be off for that long! They’ll cut me from camp and then-”

“Y/N, relax, everything will be okay.” Auston tries to grab your hand, but you yank it away from him. You can feel the panic rising in your chest.

“Auston’s right. It would take six weeks at the very most,” Nancy says in a soothing voice. “I don’t think yours is that severe, however, so if you follow all my instructions, you should be ready for full contact in under fourteen days.”

“Oh.” Your breathing slows. “By no contact, do you mean no hockey?”

Nancy’s lips tighten and your heart drops. “At least for the first week. But you can still do some light exercise, so I’ll clear you for dryland if everything looks good tomorrow.”

“Okay, I guess that’s better than nothing.”

Nancy smiles warmly. “Don’t stress, Y/N, you seem like a very tough cookie. And with the right people looking out for you,” she glances at Auston, “I’m sure you’ll be healed in no time.”

“Okay, thank-you Nancy.”

“No problem.” She stands up. “I’m going to go grab some ice and my ace bandages from my car - I’ll be right back.”

Nancy leaves, the door closing behind her, enveloping the dressing room in silence. You sit there for a moment, playing over everything that she said in your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You turn to him. “For what?”

“Hitting you with the puck - for hurting you.”

“Auston, you have nothing to apologize for. I leapt in front of the puck, and so I’ll suffer the consequences.” Under your breath you add, “If anything, I should be the one apologizing.”

He sighs, glancing down at his hands folded in his lap. “I still feel bad.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He looks up at you, his brown eyes confused. “What do you mean?”

“I was so rude to you - I ran away and ignored you for a week after we kissed, and then I rejected you last night - but you’re still here. I don’t get it.”

“Y/N, just because you don’t want me in your life doesn’t mean I can suddenly stop caring about you. It doesn’t work that way.” Looking at you for confirmation, he gently holds onto both your hands. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He looks into your eyes. “Are you?”

“Not really,” you admit, dropping your head in shame and also so he can’t see the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I dragged you into my mess. You don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you, and I feel awful.”

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. We all make mistakes. You’re just scared right now, aren’t you?”

“Terrified,” you whisper. “For the first time in my life I don’t know what to do.”

“Y/N, listen to me.” He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to not know what to do. Uncertainty is a huge part of life. All you have to do is try to breathe and let go of this idea that you can control everything, because you can’t. Control anything, that is. I can’t control the way I feel about you, and you can’t control your future - those are just things we have to accept.”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding. “You’re right. I’ll try my best to let go.”

“Good.” To your surprise, he plants a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’m always here if you need me.”

[Part 9]

anonymous asked:

SOOOO you said to come ask you about the rest of the teams soulmarks. and I am here for everything soulmate related. Please tell be about Bitty and Jack's marks. I loved your soulmate au so much and I just need to know.

Hello dear anon! 

Thanks so much for reading my fic and coming to ask me about this! I have thoughts on all the characters though but i’ll start with Jack/Bitty for ya :)

Jack - Jack’s is an oven mitt with a very detailed pattern of peaches. which doesn’t narrow things down at all for him lol he thought maybe a team nutritionist? he knew it wasn’t Parson because Parse lived off takeout and didn’t eat dessert ever. And our poor boy did not put things together and realize it was Bitty until graduation just like in canon. 

Bitty - So we know Bitty’s is a hockey glove from the Dex/Nursey fic BUT he figures out that it’s Jack because our boy JZ always puts his initials on his gloves and that little detail fills in the day they’re baking together *cue ‘never fall for a straight boy’ tears* </3

Ransom - so the tree with wide branches on my darling Ransom is there because he has such ambition and intelligence he could do anything, go anywhere with his brain. Trees are so badass, overcoming obstacles around them, growing despite unfavorable conditions, being transplanted from one place to another wildly different environment and flourishing despite it. So yeah, he has a tree.

Holster - and Adam Birkholtz has his roots from the top of his hip, spreading out to wrap around his butt and upper thigh, the longer they know each other the closer the roots get to spreading past the line of his boxers. They share a lot of the same endurance traits but to me Holster seems a bit more steady, bit more constant (how many times has that boy seen 30 Rock?). 

Shitty - so Shitty has a bird. didn’t get too deep with this one he’s a sensitive free spirit. it’s probably a parrot because he’s so affectionate, loud and talkative. But like, it doesn’t really guide him to his soulmate. He does know that he wants it to be Lardo but he tries to tamp down his hopes and attributes it to overthinking when the feather detail fills in when he spends time with her. 

Lardo - in this au Lardo’s mark is a bird cage. but like, a vintage one with curls and flowers and such. and it’s not because she ties Shitty down or tames him or anything. It’s more that she’s the person he finds rest in, a safe place to be himself with no judgement. Lardo at least knew she was more than likely looking for someone with a bird as their mark. And she likes the mark as much for herself as for what it potentially means for her soulmate because she has felt caged in by so many things in her life and to have the cage door be open gave her the courage to push beyond the limits set on her as a girl, as a WOC, as an artist to be herself - whatever that means. 

(They get their act together in the Reading Room when Shitty gives her his dibs. Let’s say there’s a week between Shitty finding out he got into Harvard and him giving her his dibs and for that week their marks itched and burned like sudden onset eczema right on the mark at just the thought of being separated before they figured it out.) 

Chowder & Farmer - they have the same mark! it’s the latitude and longitude coordinates of the leaf pile. <3 

hoh holster

so a few days ago, I read this post except i did not read it very well bc this does not follow that plot at all. BUT it does have hoh holster!

(disclaimer i did do some research but i am not hoh so if any of these headcanons are offensive in any way, please let me know. OR just tell me to delete them and I shall no questions asked. tis not your job to educate me!)

  • holster, fucking loving when shows come on Netflix because Netflix generally has closed captions and shitty rigged it so their TV has closed captions but sometimes those are really shitty and he misses jokes
  • holster watches most shows twice; once so he can focus on the words, once so he can focus on the facial features of everyone
  • for some reason, holster is still always in charge of playlists. he just knows good music. and if he blares it too loudly, well, you cant say anything because he is just trying to hear. and if you notice he is has taken his hearing aids out and is smirking, well, oh well.
  • holster is very used to ducking to talk to people (even when wearing his hearing aids) so he can get as close to them as possible. he jokingly says this is why he is best friends with ransom. because ransom is tall enough that he can actually hear him. sometimes it is easier for him to talk to lardo but just picking her up and walking around with her on his hip. to date, he is the only person alive with express permission to pick lardo up whenever he wants.
  • losing his glasses is actually not funny for holster. it is a source of severe stress because he can’t really hear so he needs to be able to see and his eyes are so fucking bad and he tends to panic if it takes him more than a few moments even if it is his own fault because he’s always so careless with them but ransom always, always knows where they are
  • look, holster generally wears hearing aids and can sort of read people’s lips (but that is never 100% accurate at all) so really, he loves ASL. it’s easier for him and he kinda loves that he can gossip about people behind their back but in front of their face. 
  • holster hates signed english. he gets that sometimes the boys have to use it at first to communicate and he appreciate that they are sort of trying but he hates it. it is not correct and no, he does not want to see your direct translations of christmas songs. 
  • the boys all learning ASL. Ransom studies like he has never studied before for anything in his life. He won’t tell Holster what he’s working on because he wants it to be a surprise but he works himself into four “i am sitting on the floor rocking” stages. (Also, he got a B minus on his first ever bio test because he was too busy learning but Holster never found out about that)
  • shitty is fucking terrible at signing. not because he don’t know it, but because he talks too loud and fast and uses his hands to talk so he forgets. luckily ransom usually signs along so holster can follow.
  • lardo took to signing like a fish to water. she is faster than even ransom and can keep her signs small and contained and she and holster loooove signing behind people’s backs together
  • Jack takes the longest to learn and holster at first thinks that jack isn’t bothering to learn because holster is some kind of liability on the ice but then jack starts signing to him absolutely perfectly and then reveals that he’s also made a pretty elaborate system of signs that one can see while wearing hockey gloves. 
  • bitty is not very good at signing and at first was incredibly stressed because not only is his often wearing baking mitts and holster told him his accent did crazy things to his mouth so he was hard to lip read as well but luckily, holster got used to it and it turns out jacks ‘hockey glove friendly’ signs could also be used with baking mitts so its okay. bitty still gets very stressed about it though. he tried to learn ASL approximately 100% more seriously then he bothers with french. (still most of his attempts end up with flour everywhere because bitty does this thing where he waves his hands in the air as he struggles to remember the sign and then when he gets them, he does this in these huge exaggerated motions and ends up spilling things.)

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ASL in the Dressing Room

As an obvious continuation of Whiskey’s Hearing Aids, if we combine it with @chillwhiskey‘s ASL-using Dex, we logically get Whiskey and Dex chirping everyone else relentlessly behind their backs across the dressing room and then irritating the shit out of everyone when they won’t quit laughing.

At first Holster is annoyed (but let’s be honest, Holster is always a little annoyed), but then Ransom suggests “we could make a play outta this, bro,” and that’s how Jack ends up walking into the Haus one weekend to find the living room full of guys trying to figure out which signs are still clear while wearing hockey gloves. Which inevitably devolves into pelting each other with the gloves, and Whiskey is sitting in the middle of it all with the biggest, most genuine smile on his face that anyone on the team has ever seen.