Collection

Finnish, practicing my national pride (here, because the rink is cold). Leijonat, Canes, HIFK

[hockey-finns]

you know what would be really funny?

juuse bringing daddy pekka (rinne) instead of father pekka (his actual dad) to the preds dads trip

[utahmammoth]

lol

[robindrake13]

🏒🏒

[52pk-deactivated20250307]

THE CLIP OF HIM GETTING YANKED BACK😭

(10/19 canes @ blues)

[swayhughes]

via canes’s ig story

[swayhughes]

via canes

[swayhughes]

via canes

[swayhughes]

via canes’s ig story

[lovingsebastianaho]

[lovingsebastianaho]

[human-trainwreck]

So my Canes are playing the fuckin Islanders again and I would like to issue several reminders ;

1. I still don’t like New Yorkers

2. Jordan Staal is not a CHAIR

3. If the refs continue their ridiculous calling I will end it here

Any questions?

[sydnikov]

Don't forget 4. Our Sebastian Aho™ will always be better

[there-goes-thefighter-deactivat]

Who Really Won? Part Five: We're Not In Tampa Anymore

This is my fic. Please do not repost this (reblogs are good). Do not copy my writing. Do not steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing and my original character(s).

Series Masterlist

NFL Masterlist

(warnings: swearing)

(pairing: mention of toxic!tom brady x f!reader; travis kelce x f!reader)

(word count: 1k)

(series taglist: @kelcemenow @vir-tual @kmc1989 @kristencochefski1125 @calirindo @kkrenae)

The sunlight breaking through the hotel window was a sign of a new day. The tangled white sheets told a short story of stability and comfort. Travis woke up before (y/n), rubbing his eyes and letting them adjust to the sunlight. He wondered why the bed was uncomfortable, but he took in his surroundings and remembered where he was. She slept soundly beside him, and he let her. She deserved to sleep in after the night she’d had. 

Travis quietly ordered room service – a full breakfast. As the room service arrived, (y/n) was just waking up. She could smell the toast, bacon, and eggs. Through barely open eyes, she watched as Travis thanked the hotel employee before they left. 

He did a double take as he noticed (y/n) was awake. “Good mornin’ sleeping beauty.”

“Good morning. What’d you get?” she asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. 

“Big breakfast. There’s plenty for you.”

(y/n) got up and out of bed. She rested a hand on Travis’ shoulder for a second, “Thanks.”

He replied, “Mhm,” as she closed the door to the bathroom.

(y/n) was about to come out, but she heard Travis talking on the phone.

“Hello.”

Camille’s voice came through the speaker, “Hey, have you heard from (y/n)?”

“She’s with me. I found her last night at the stadium.”

“The stadium?”

“She said she didn’t know where else to go.”

“Oh. Alright. How is she?”

“She was in rough shape last night. I asked if she wanted to follow me home, but she didn’t want to. So, I brought her to a hotel.”

“Are you with her right now?”

“I have been since last night. I was halfway home and I forgot I still had the key. I came back to give it to her and found her in the middle of a nightmare. Been with her since.”

“Thank you, Travis.”

“No need to thank me. I’m not gonna hurt her, you have my word.”

“Good.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay.”

Goodbyes were exchanged and (y/n) came out of the bathroom. Travis had thought he hung up, but Camille was happy to listen to the words she heard next. 

“Hey, beautiful. Camille just called to check up on you.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. I told her I found you at the stadium and brought you here.”

“Thanks, Travis. I’m sure she was worried.”

“No problem, baby.”

Camille hung up the phone with a smile on her face. She was happy her friend was safe and in the arms of someone better. 

—

After a few days at the hotel, (y/n) finally followed Travis home. She’d warmed up to him and even smiled at him. Travis considered it a significant amount of progress. He was so happy she was starting to let her guard down around him. He gave her a quick tour of his home and showed her the guest room. 

“If you need me, I’m gonna be in the gym for a little while. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be alright. Thanks, Trav.”

Everybody called him “Trav”, but something about it coming from her lips made him smile like an idiot as he walked away. 

—

Camille and Rob were out in Tampa, enjoying a day to themselves. They both finally had some time off from work, so they spent the day together. While they sat in a restaurant to have lunch, Rob noticed a certain quarterback walk in with a few friends. 

“Don’t look now, but he’s here,” Rob whispered to Camille.

“Tom?” she mouthed to him. Rob nodded. He watched Tom as he walked with his friends to a table on the other side of the restaurant.

“Thank God he’s over there.”

Tom had gotten up to use the bathroom, which was conveniently on the side that Camille and Rob were sitting in. Tom thought he had seen Rob, but he wasn’t positive. When he came out, he definitely recognized him.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“He saw me.”

Tom made his way over and greeted the couple like they were still friends.

“Hey, Gronk. How are ya?”

“Go away, Tom.”

“What?”

“Go away. We’re not friends anymore, so don’t come over here and talk to me like we are.”

Tom was taken aback, “What?”

“You heard me. You know what you’ve done and I refuse to be associated with you.”

Tom rolled his eyes and started walking away. He got a few tables away before he turned around and came back.

“Would you at least tell me where (y/n) is?”

Rob was about to respond, but Camille stood up and cut in, “What, so you can fuck up her life again? She’s better without you. You destroyed her. You have no right to come over here and ask where she is after all the shit you’ve put her through. Continue on your way and forget about her, Tom, because she’s not going to go running back to you like you want her to. She’s gone. Take the loss and go.”

Camille watched as Tom said nothing and headed back to his table. She sat down once he was out of sight and sighed. 

“Wow. That was very brave of you.”

“I’ve been wanting to put him in his place since it happened.”

“That’s good. He needed to be knocked down a little bit.”

Camille and Rob continued their day without any other issues or run-ins with Tom. 

—

In Kansas City, (y/n) was settling in. She opened one of the boxes she’d taken in, finding the speaker she hadn’t used in a while. She smiled at it and connected the phone to it. She played a song she’d heard on the radio on the drive from the stadium to Travis’ home.

Like a runaway Southbound train

Like an Arizona desert rain

Like lightning in the sky

Like fireworks in July

Like a left field homerun ball

Like a whiskey shot at last call

It's like she was made for moving on

That girl is going, going, gone

[there-goes-thefighter-deactivat]

Who Really Won? - Travis Kelce series masterlist

-🏈-

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers won the Super Bowl over the Kansas City Chiefs. As (y/n) made her way onto the field with the other girls, the sight in front of her wasn't so celebratory. Her heartbroken expression catches the eye of the Chiefs' tight end. Does he reach out to her or pass her by?

-🏈-

NFL Masterlist

Series Playlist

-🏈-

Fast Car

Super Bowl

Red Flags

Battlefield

We're Not In Tampa Anymore

Lemon Tree

Take Your Time

I Like You...

...Am I Too Late?

Walk Away

So What If I Missed You

Highway

In My Head

Love Somebody

New Season

Fuck Him

Truth About You

Miss Me More

Who Is It Now?

Standing There Is You

Wedding Bells

Nothing Else Matters

-🏈-

series taglist: @kelcemenow @vir-tual @kmc1989 @kristencochefski1125 @calirindo @kkrenae @killatravtramp @luvvtrent @hearts4papayas @theimperiumchronicles @evernova @ezgirl1108

[there-goes-thefighter-deactivat]

Who Really Won? Part Two: Super Bowl

This is my fic. Please do not repost this (reblogs are good). Do not copy my writing. Do not steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing and my original character(s).

Series Masterlist

NFL Masterlist

(warnings: swearing, cheating)

(pairing: toxic!tom brady x f!reader)

(word count: 992)

(series taglist: @kelcemenow )

The Buccaneers gained the lead easily. In the first half of the game, Tom Brady was on his a-game. They were up by ten points with the Chiefs falling short. (y/n) watched from the Wives and Girlfriends Suite, the other girls seated around her. Camille Kostek sat beside her, occasionally noticing she didn’t seem fully comfortable with being there. She knew about the message (y/n) had sent to Rob, but was concerned that nothing had been said since. 

During halftime, she took the chance to talk to her while the other girls cheered for the artist on stage. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

(y/n) nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Camille lowered her voice, “I know about the message you sent Rob. If you need any help, say the word and I’m there.”

(y/n) looked at Camille, seeing someone she could trust. “Thank you.”

After the halftime show was over, the game resumed. (y/n) and Camille got to know each other better as they watched the game. Camille had asked (y/n) about her relationship with Tom, hoping there would be something good for her to mention.

“So, how’s life with Tom Brady?”

“He’s…it’s okay.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing.”

(y/n) played it off, “Well, he’s been pretty busy lately getting ready for tonight.”

Brooke Skelley, Cameron Brate’s fiancée, was sitting in the row in front of them, listening to the conversation. She’d been the one to make (y/n)’s jacket since (y/n) hadn’t been able to attend the girls' night when they made them. She didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t convinced (y/n) was telling the full truth, either. 

For the rest of the game, (y/n)’s relationship with Tom wasn’t brought up again. The girls celebrated when the Bucs scored and booed when the Chiefs scored. The Chiefs had caught up to the Bucs by the middle of the fourth quarter, tying the game. The next seven minutes felt like forever. 

In the final minute, the Bucs scored a touchdown, securing the Super Bowl win. Red confetti shot out of cannons, sprinkling down onto the field. The girls cheered and cried for their boyfriends and husbands.

Camille led (y/n) down to the field, following the security guard that made sure the girls were safe. Brooke and the rest of the girls were behind them, discussing the game and talking about the win. The security guard stopped and let the girls go first since everyone on the field were players and NFL personnel.

And there it was, right in (y/n)’s face. Her boyfriend, Tom Brady, was kissing the Tampa Bay Buccaneers head cheerleader. 

Her hand covered her mouth as she gasped. It felt like the rest of the world went on mute as she watched the scene in front of her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt Camille’s hand rubbing her back and Brooke’s hand touching her shoulder in support. 

The Chiefs were heading to the locker room after congratulating the Bucs players on a good game. In order to get there, they were walking by the Bucs players’ wives and girlfriends. Travis Kelce had looked up at the right time. He saw Camille consoling (y/n) - who he knew of since the media loved to talk about Tom Brady’s girlfriend so much. He was still a few feet away, and he needed to make a move fast. He was getting closer, still without a word. 

Stopping right by her, he asked Camille, “Is she okay?”

“She saw him kiss a cheerleader.”

Travis’ jaw clenched. He knew exactly who and what Camille was talking about. He’d seen Brady kissing someone but hadn’t been able to see who it was. 

“Gronk’s got my number. Have him give it to her and tell her to call me. I’ll take that asshole right off her hands.”

Camille was a little intimidated by Travis’ words. She could see the rage in his eyes and how he fought to not go back out there and punch Tom Brady. When Camille was distracted by Rob coming up to her, the Chiefs’ tight end went back onto the field. 

“Hey, Brady!” he called. 

Travis’ rage caught the attention of Tom Brady and everyone around him. Rob and Camille watched from the entrance of the tunnel. 

“Oh no,” Rob said under his breath. 

The two players were in a yelling match, now. Tom pushed him, trying to get him to back off. Travis was still going off, so Tom threw the first punch. His knuckles barely smacked Travis’ chin, but it was enough. By now, the whole stadium was eerily silent. 

Patrick Mahomes ran back out to try and calm down his teammate and stop the situation from escalating any further than it had. As he started pulling him away, Travis pointed at Tom and said, “You better say a fucking prayer, Tom.”

Tom laughed. Big mistake. 

Travis pushed Patrick off of him and charged toward Tom. “You think it’s funny you cheated on her? You think it’s fuckin' funny, Tom?”

Tom smiled as he shook his head, “She fell for it.”

“Fell for what?”

“Come on Kelce, you can’t really believe I’d actually go for a girl like her. You know the life, the kind of girls that throw themselves at us. I played a game and won.”

Travis stared at him. He couldn’t believe Tom Brady, let alone anyone, would ever treat someone as a pawn. 

“Rot in hell, Tom,” Travis said through gritted teeth. 

Travis turned and walked away, Patrick following him down the tunnel. As he passed by the girls and Rob Gronkowski, he heard (y/n) say something to Camille that broke his heart. 

“I should’ve seen the signs.”

He stopped and turned to her, “Don’t you dare blame yourself, sweetheart. He’s a manipulative fuck that doesn’t realize what he just lost.”

Travis continued on, but (y/n) couldn’t help but watch him go.

[brockkboeserr]

i could love you with my eyes closed - sebastian aho

Sebastian doesn't like your boyfriend - he's forgetful, stands you up, and doesn't know a thing about you. When will you see that he's the right guy to figure you out?

pairing: sebastian aho x reader

warnings: shitty boyfriend, angst, a lot of self-reflection disgused as fic

word count: 4k

a/n: happy fic exchange to everyone participating and happy birthday to me! for @sebbyaho i hope this is the sepe fic of your dreams! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only organizing this thing but catching my typos in the google doc. song title and inspo from figure you out by voila. love you guys, pls let me know what you think! <3

Sebastian doesn’t like the guy you’re dating.

It’s not exactly a fair sentiment, what with how polite Owen has always been to him. Owen’s a big fan of the Canes, truth be told, a Staal jersey or two hanging in his closet and season tickets that had been the reason behind your fated meeting two years ago.

At the time your roommate Jessica had just started seeing Teuvo, still in that phase where he wanted to impress her, and so he’d gotten the both of you tickets that happened to be next to Owen’s. One spilt beer and three periods of solid hockey and he had your number in his phone with the promise of a date.

That same night you’d also met Sebastian for the first time, awkwardly chatting with Jessica while surrounded by some of the most beautiful and intimidating women you’d ever seen who were all waiting for their own respective significant others. He’d come out of the locker room before Teuvo, likely a result of Teuvo being picked for additional media duty as a consequence of the three point night he’d put up (including one goal where he’d pointed in your direction causing Jessica to lock up with a deep blush on her cheeks). Sebastian had greeted your roommate fondly, pulling her into a hug and teasing her for the celly aimed in her direction before turning and introducing himself to you.

It was kind of like time had slowed then, the rest of the world fading into a dull blur while you smiled and told him your name.

If you were being honest, that initial meeting and the strange way he seemed to always drift toward you in the weeks that followed were the reason behind Owen’s inability to ‘lock you down’ as Jessica had oh so eloquently put it. Except, nothing ever moved further than the quiet small talk and the sweet way he would check on you during nights out after wins.

And so you go on one date with Owen, and then another, and then another, and then you blink and you’ve been dating Owen for nearly two years and Jessica is moving in with Teuvo.

You’re upset. Understandably so, since you’ve lived with Jessica for the entirety of your adult life, having moved out of your parents home and directly into this apartment with her your first year of university.

Sebastian doesn’t like your boyfriend because Owen is nowhere to be found while you help Jessica pack her things, pretending like no one can see you discretely wipe your eyes every few minutes. Change has never really been something you’ve been good at dealing with, and it’s not that you’re not extremely happy for your best friend taking this next step in her relationship with Sepe’s best friend, because you certainly are. You’re just not really ready to come home to an empty apartment, no sound of paws tapping on the hardwood, no Zombieland playing for the tenth time that month on the TV in the living room, no “you wanna order PDQ” text at 10 pm.

He can see it written clearly on your face that you’re close to actual tears as you help pack her closet, and so he makes the executive decision that you two will be the ones to go pick up takeout, ignoring both your and Jessica’s protests that you can just order DoorDash.

It’s quiet as Sepe navigates through downtown Raleigh in search of your favorite Vietnamese restaurant, just the sound of the radio softly playing some top 100 pop song that you seem to know the melody of, if not the lyrics. He speaks your name quietly and it’s like the dam breaks, water rushing through the cracks in the foundation and drowning out the landscape in its wake.

“I don’t want her to go, is that selfish of me?” you ask without looking at him, unable to handle the judgmental look you’re certain he’s wearing.

“Maybe a little,” he says carefully, cracking a small grin as you exasperatedly say his name, finally looking at his side profile while his eyes are carefully on the road ahead of him.

“It’s not that I don’t want her to be happy-” you start to explain yourself, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“I know.” His tone of voice is reassuring if a bit condescending as he continues, “You know that this won’t change anything right? She’ll still be your best friend.”

“But she won’t be right there,” you protest weakly, picking at your nail beds.

“A little distance isn’t going to mean anything, look at Teuvo and me, still best friends and we haven’t lived together since I was a rookie.”

“That’s different, you still see each other every day.”

He risks looking away from the road for a minute, meeting your eyes briefly to let you know he means business. “You don’t really think there’s anything that could come between your friendship, do you?”

It’s nothing earth shattering, not really anything you hadn’t already heard or already thought on your own, but for some reason it’s far more meaningful coming from Sebastian. You return with the takeout and finish packing the rest of Jessica’s things. After the boys leave, she crawls into your bed - one last sleepover before she’s gone for good, and you don’t even think about Owen or his glaringly obvious absence until he’s lighting up your phone with empty platitudes and a promise to take you to some fancy new restaurant you don’t even have an interest in going to.

-

Your birthday is kind of a big deal.

When you were a kid, your mom would wake you with a fat stack of pancakes and let you skip school for the day, doing anything and everything you could think of instead. You’re a bit older now, have a few more responsibilities these days, but that doesn’t stop you from keeping up the tradition, using a day of PTO and meeting Sebastian at a fancy breakfast place downtown.

It was his idea to meet for brunch - when he’d found out that Owen didn’t have any plans for you on your birthday, he’d taken it upon himself to invite you instead. Sepe is thoughtful like that, sweet and kind and the best listener you’ve ever met. He remembers things about you, like birthday traditions and the brand of lip balm you like best.

You feel a pang at your heart for a moment, a twisting of your stomach in the comfortable silence that falls between you two after ordering. If pressed, you would say it was just a hunger pain, but truthfully it’s probably more related to the soft smile on his face that he directed at your giggling waitress, her finger curling a solitary lock of hair around it while she took your order.

And it’s silly, ridiculous even because he’s not yours, not your boyfriend, not your anything but a friend. You’ve got a boyfriend, even if he’s too busy with work to be the one to take you out for birthday pancakes.

Sebastian sees the little crinkle between your eyebrows, the little pout on your face and incorrectly attributes it to Owen’s absence. He thinks your boyfriend is an idiot and can’t comprehend a world where anything could ever be considered more important than you. The words almost escape his lips, but he knows it wouldn’t do anything but upset you.

You’re upset a lot these days, he’s noticed. Jessica too.

There’s not a doubt in Sebastian’s mind that if you knew that he and Jessica talked about how worried they were about you that you would be embarrassed, maybe even a little angry. Not necessarily at your best friends, not even at Owen who would surely deserve to face the ire of your wrath. No, you would likely be angry at yourself for causing concern in the first place, for not hiding things better. You demand the best for everyone around you, offering your share of love and then some, but accept less than the bare minimum when it comes to yourself.

“Is he going to make any time for you today?” he can’t help but snap, regretting the words the instant they leave his mouth as your shoulders fall and you somehow make yourself even smaller in the cold vinyl booth.

“That’s not fair, he’s just busy. Not everyone can be an NHL superstar, some people are working at 11 in the morning on a Friday.” You’re aiming for teasing, but land somewhere between bitter and sad.

The way he then speaks your name says volumes, but you’re not ready to hear any of it.

“Jessica’s ignoring me,” you state stiffly a minute or two of silence later. Sebastian sighs, he knows a deflection when he hears one. He also knows the reason for her radio silence, knows your best friend is like an excitable puppy when she’s got a secret.

And so he plays along, shrugs with a small smile on his face and says she’s probably just busy at work, before pointing at your plate, “Your pancakes are getting cold.”

You don’t know what his angle is, but you play along dutifully anyway, dramatically stabbing your pancakes while glaring at him. The glare doesn’t last though, not with the smile he sends your way as if your childish antics don’t do anything more than endear him to you further.

After brunch, he takes you to the museum. There’s a new exhibit you’ve been dying to see, dropping hints left and right for Owen that went unanswered. Truly, you can’t remember mentioning it to Sebastian more than once, and your stomach flips with the implications that someone actually listens when you speak.

Lastly, he drops you off at home and makes you promise to arrive at your favorite restaurant at 7 pm sharp. With an eye roll, you cross your heart and rush inside, collapsing on the couch for a well-deserved birthday nap.

It’s closer to 7:15 than 7:30 when you arrive, but you’re not concerned. Not even when the lights are off when you open the door. Not even when a room full of your friends and family shout ‘surprise!’ Not even when you’re immediately thrown off balance by your best friend tossing herself at you.

You’re not concerned until you realize your boyfriend isn’t among them.

Sebastian can see it in your eyes, that little flicker of hope as you look out among the people who have shown up for you tonight. He feels part of his own heart break as he watches it be snuffed out. Because the one you’re looking for isn’t here tonight. Owen isn’t here tonight and Sebastian hates him for it.

You pretend like it’s fine, like you don’t feel your heart breaking that little bit further. And it works, mostly. To the average party goer, it’s a good night and your smile lights up your face. Sebastian isn’t fooled, though. He sees the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, sees the flashes of disappointment when you think no one else is looking.

Really, it’s a good party - thoughtful and fun and everyone has a great time. There’s no mistaking the bitterness when you go to bed alone without so much as a happy birthday text from Owen, though.

He ‘makes it up’ to you with tickets to some rap show, but you can’t help but think of how Sepe promised to take you to see your actual favorite band with Jessica and Teuvo.

-

You wonder sometimes how different life would be if you’d come on a little stronger when you first met Sebastian. If you’d be dating by now, if you’d be his plus one to the team Christmas party instead of Teuvo’s plus one’s plus one. If you would have coordinated matching ugly Christmas sweaters and baked cookies together and drove here together, hands held tightly over the gear shift.

Because Owen went home to see his family in Atlanta for Christmas Day, you’d done Christmas this morning, exchanging gifts while watching Christmas movies. It was disappointing to say the least, a real mess of a day where you’d all but screamed at Owen that you didn’t want to take the next step and move in with him. He’d cried, you’d cried, the neighbors dog had cried and barked because the walls of your apartment were so thin.

And so you’re ready to have a good time tonight, dressed in a fashionable sweater with candy cane earrings hanging from your earlobes.

Jessica getting hit with a near-crippling back spasm before supper’s even ready is not quite in your holiday party plans. Neither is the shit-eating grin on Teuvo’s face as he assures you “Fishy won’t mind driving you home if you want to stay longer,” or Sebastian’s responding confirmation nod.

The eggnog you drink and the mistletoe you dodge and the songs you dance to are, though. A significant portion of your evening is spent chasing around the various children, roping Sepe into your antics and even forcing a reindeer headband on him for pictures. You’re running from your problems if you’re being honest, and Sebastian knows you well enough to know this to be the case.

“Spit it out,” Sebastian finally states after helping you into your jacket and leading you to his car. “What did he do to upset you?”

You think about lying, about brushing it off like nothing’s wrong, but the look in his eyes says he isn’t going to let this go easily. “He tried to buy us a condo. A penthouse... And I’m-”

“Afraid of heights,” he states at the same time you do. Really you should be shocked that your friend knows you better than your boyfriend of two years, but it’s not the first time Sebastian hit a bullseye while Owen’s darts hit the ceiling.

“Yeah,” you admit, “And I’m not sure I want to leave my apartment.” Read: you’re not sure you want to leave your apartment and move in with Owen. And really, that should be a blaring warning, a flagrant red flag that after two years you’re not certain you want to move in with him. But you love him, right? And he loves you, misguided intentions and all. Besides, it’s not like you have a line of suitors at the door begging for your time and attention.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it. He’s sorry your boyfriend is a moron, sorry you don’t think you deserve better, sorry he was too shy and nervous to ask you out before things got serious with Owen.

It’s quiet as you walk to his car, a very quietly muttered thank you passing from your lips as he opens the door for you. For a moment you both just sit there, the car not even running while he sits and contemplates his next move. Before you really know what’s happened, he’s reaching into the backseat and for a second you wonder if Jessica and Teuvo set you up. The genuine look of pain that had been on her face convinces you that’s not exactly the case, but something about it all feels too convenient.

“I uh- I got you something,” Sebastian says quietly, all shy-like with rosy cheeks. The gift box he holds isn’t very big, doesn’t have any breathing holes and it isn’t barking, so it can’t be the puppy you’d jokingly told everyone who would listen you wanted for Christmas.

“Sepe,” you say tone equally as soft, trying to hide the way your hands are shaking by holding them in your lap. “You really didn’t have to get me anything, I didn’t even get you a gift.”

He kind of clears his throat and gulps all at the same time in a gesture that reads nervous more than anything. “You don’t have to get me anything, just say you’ll use the gift and that will be enough.”

Your curiosity is piqued now, but you have no idea what’s in the box and can’t just readily agree like that. What if it was some kind of cruel trick or practical joke? “I can’t just agree, Sepe,” you try to argue.

“Just say yes.” He’s so genuine in his delivery that you find yourself nodding. He nods himself, satisfied with your answer and hands it to you. When you pull off the gift bow, you notice that it’s a little crooked, bringing a smile to your face.

That smile quickly drops as you open it fully and take in the gift in your hands. It’s confirmation for a round trip to Finland in the upcoming summer. Somehow you stutter through the words “I can’t accept this, it’s too much and I can’t get the time off. Thank you, really, but I can’t-”

“Jessica already got you to take the time off, and I want to show you my home.” It’s the earnestness with which he speaks coupled with the knowledge that, yeah, you did already have the two weeks off as a result of Jessica’s meddling. You’d thought you were going on a road trip, but you should have known better - she couldn’t be that far from a bathroom.

For a second you panic. The excuse you’d given Owen when you turned down the penthouse was the exorbitant nature of the gift. How was an all expense paid trip to a place you’d always dreamed of visiting any different?

The giant grin that slowly takes over Sebastian’s face as you agree to go has your heart telling you the truth.

The difference is the man offering you the gift.

-

Finland is beautiful.

Sebastian’s friends and family are wonderful and seeing his childhood home is just one small piece of the painting that has been revealing itself to you. It’s his attentiveness toward you - always making sure your needs are being met whether it’s taking you to explore the beauty of Finland’s nature or the cuisine, making sure you’re comfortable in every social situation he puts you in, or noticing when you need something before you’ve even realized it yourself. It’s the little things he remembers, like the way you like your tea or your aversion to certain foods or the way you like to wake up gently with the sun over an alarm clock.

Finland is where you realize that Owen just isn’t doing it for you, and he hasn’t for a long time.

It’s a terrifying realization and yet one that makes your chest feel a little less tight, your mind a little lighter. Of course, you’re not the type of girl to break up over text when you’re across the globe. Even if Owen hadn’t responded to your message in more than a day (you’d tried to explain it away to yourself that it was just the time zone until you and Sebastian had gone for lunch with Teuvo - with Jessica responding to your snapchat despite it being barely past 4 am in North Carolina simply because she was a little jealous) you couldn’t be that cruel.

It’s on your mind for the last few days of your trip, leaving you slightly distant and not entirely there in conversation. Sebastian brushes it off as you not wanting to return to the grind of your regular life, and you all but encourage that thought when he brings it up.

Eventually all good things must end, and you find yourself tearing up as you hug Sebastian tightly in the drop off lane at the airport. It feels a lot like the end of something as you prepare to go home and break up with your long term boyfriend, but it also feels a lot like the start of something better if his tight grip on you is any indication.

You’re not hanging all your hope on Sebastian’s back, though. Even if you’ve misread every sign, even if the gentle way he loves you is nothing more than platonic, you can’t keep accepting the half-assed nature of Owen’s love. You deserve someone who listens when you speak, who remembers tiny details about you, who makes you a priority in his life. Even if that person isn’t Sebastian, you now know with certainty it’s not Owen.

Breaking up with Owen is weird.

He cries a bit, and is more than a little confused. His ignorance is almost infuriating, the excuses dropping from his mouth like the North Carolina rain in July. Choosing a semi-public location for the breakup is one of your smarter ideas when it comes to this man, because it doesn’t afford him the opportunity to make too large of a scene.

“There’s nothing I can do to change your mind?” he finally asks.

“Owen,” you sigh dramatically into your cup of coffee. “What’s my favorite song?”

He’s silent and that’s the moment you know it’s really and truly over. It’s such a stark contrast from the way Sebastian had swatted at your hand when you wanted to skip Anchor by Novo Amor while your spotify playlist blared from his car speakers, smirking and stating he knew it was your favorite song ‘of the moment, at least’.

“I’m sorry,” you say but don’t really mean it, “I’ll drop off your stuff when I have a chance this week.”

When Sebastian flies back for training camp, it’s you who meets him at the airport. It’s a tame reunion, a hug that you lean a little too much into and then you’re driving him home.

In his kitchen, he offers you a drink and you accept a water. Before he’s even reached the cupboard to pull down a glass he’s turning on you.

“He doesn’t know a thing about you,” Sebastian’s voice is impassioned, his every emotion written across the planes of his face, down the slope of his nose and in the curve of his lips.

“Sebastian-” you try to interject, try to tell him that Owen hasn’t been in the picture for weeks at this point.

“No, listen,” he states, and you do. “I could love you with my eyes closed and it kills me to see you waste your time with Owen who probably couldn’t even pick Jessica out of a lineup. He wants you to spend time with his friends, but never makes the effort with yours. It feels like I’ve known you forever, and I know there’s still a lot to figure out about you, but I want to show you that I’m the right guy to do it.”

Your heart is doing this funny thing where it’s simultaneously beating in your ears and yet it feels like it’s lodged in your throat. Because these are all the words you’ve been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime. Here is this beautiful, kind, sweet man who is doing the one thing you’ve always wanted - he’s paying attention. And it feels so bottom of the barrel, literally the bare minimum, the bar is beneath the floor at this point, but you don’t care.

“I broke up with Owen when I got home,” you tell him. His eyes flicker to you quickly, dangerously, hopefully.

“Oh.”

“I want you to be the right guy too, Sepe.” It’s the clearest way you know how to say it, can’t really form the words any other way. They’re on the tip of your tongue, though. I want you. I think I could love you. I’ve been waiting for you.

“Oh.”

“Can you say something else please?” your voice comes out more of a plea than authoritative, cracking the tiniest bit on the last word.

The problem is he doesn’t have the words either. Or at least, not in English. A million and one Finnish phrases die in his throat, and so he does the next best thing. He crowds into your space, places his hands on either side of your neck and presses his lips to yours.

The first kiss is sweet, soft, hesitant. When he pulls back you chase his lips, and suddenly it’s a lot more. Harder, heavier, sweeter. You kiss and you kiss and you kiss, and you both know you should really talk about this further.

But with his eyes closed and his lips on yours he thinks, yeah, he really could love you.

[turbolainen]

hurricanes vs sabres / december 2 2023

[dropshotdraper]

if I had a nickel for every time andrei svechnikov wore his emerald green suit then the canes goalie left his crease during a crazy play against the buffalo sabres, i’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice