#but hey I dont work until the 23rd then I work christmas for a THIRD YEAR IN A ROW

[elecman108]

Merry Chrysler, from my idiot collection to yours!

Did this take me from starting on Nov. 1st to now to complete? Maybe. Can I not sleep so thus I am posting this at 4am my time? Perhaps.

Below the cut is a closer look at the outfits because they look SO good.

--

You've entered into the cut, and now you get to see the dumb shit.

The first set of OCs in stupid Christmas Costumes! From left to right: Ziradoe, Honey, my Sona Ender, Axel, Ranran, Nash, Vic, Mona, Lana, Ildan, Mask, and Blaze. As you can probably tell, some of the sizing is off for some of them - Honey is too short, Ranran is far too tiny, Lana is a bit tall, etc. - because as I made this in short bursts, the ones I was making were all proportionate to each other, but not proportionate to the others I had made previously. Whoops. Either way, the funniest one of this group is Ziradoe as a Deer, and my favourite here has to be tied between Honey, Blaze, and Vic's outfits. Honey looks so cozy, Blaze's fireball bauble on his Santa Hat is awesome, and Vic just always looks cool and classy in any outfit she wears.

The second group of OCs in Christmas Gear! From left to right: Melia, Mangle, Theo, Katlynn, Yune, Cecillia, Jade, Lutelei, Golden Shadows, Alren, Jasmine, and Lailah. In this set, you can see my previous Christmas Group Pic getting revamped for sure, with Cecillia looking much better than she did previously, and Theo losing the odd messenger bag I had added to his look that ultimately was scrapped as one of his main items. You can also see more new OCs - Yune, Jade, etc. - being added in with old ones I previously didn't give a spotlight to - Jasmine, Lutelei, Katlynn, etc. - and all in all they all are adorable. My favourite here is Jade, hands-down. I love her design and her little deer costume, she's so much fun to draw!

The third group of Idiots is here! From left to right: Lixori, Ender, Wendy, Virgo, Goldie, Foxy, Seven/Seraphus, Alpha, Kress, Marina, and Zarris. It was interesting taking the old designs from my old (and since lost on my old corrupted SSD) christmas work with Alpha, Seven, Ender, and etc and remaking them to look better and still match with the newer ones, where I went a little bit more wild with the designs. Unsurprisingly, some still have bits and pieces where they match their default outfits - Zarris has his cloak's latch, Alpha has his turtleneck sweater, Goldie has his purple bowtie, etc - to add that little touch of the usual to the otherwise festive attire... although the most obvious "I drew them on two separate days and they clearly aren't proportionally accurate to each other" is here, with Goldie being significantly taller than Foxy, when it should be the other way around... Regardless, my favourite design here goes to Marina, for the classic Santa costume with not much embellishment. A good runner-up is Lixori and her deer costume that reminds me of a school uniform, but I've gotta say Marina's is my personal top choice of this group.

And last but not least, the final collection of morons and idiots! From left to right: Lady Joy, Detective Delilah, Reverend Ezra, Kara, Tempest, Alrani, Aria, Irina, Urisinia, Cupcake, and Verda. I did Lady Joy's linework nearing to the end because I realized I was off by one for each of the three sets to be even - 15 Deer, 15 Elves/Santas, and 15 Snowmen - but hey, the 46th one got to be an Angel. Is it weird that she's clearly dead and a bloodied, battered corpse? Eh. She looks cute and is having fun and that's what counts. Shout out to my favourites of this group though, being Delilah and Alrani. Delilah looks so uncomfortable in her deer costume - I mean, she is a detective who looks into supernatural beings (Vampires, mostly) in Wayhaven - and Alrani just looks cute and I had a lot of fun drawing her Dendro Vision on her belt.

I had a lot of fun drawing these idiots, but here's to another year hopefully far better than the last! This year has been a bit trying on my patience, given I have new back pain that I'm waiting on Canada Post (after waiting on a temp manager, my actual manager, and then a new temp manager, and then the office manager, then the temporary office manager) in order to get my benefits so I can pay for physio, but hey, it is what it is, right? My mental health is... plateauing, which is... good? But we'll see what 2025 brings.

Perhaps I may draw more in 2025. After all, I still have my 2024 art summary to make up, and so far, it's gonna be a bit... bare, like last year's. Oh well.

[bucketbueckers]

LAYUPS & LAYOVERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 2.9k content warnings: language, fluff, author is southern and doesn't understand how snow or marketing works, plot where there doesn’t need to be plot synopsis: It’s Christmas Eve and you’re in Connecticut, exhausted and just trying to get to Minnesota for a work conference. You could cry when it’s announced that all flights are being halted due to the incoming blizzard. Irritated, tired, and overworked, you pray for a miracle, although it takes an unnatural shape in the form of a six foot blonde athlete who’s just trying to make it home, too. Late night airport conversations lead to something more. notes: merry christmas eve from my delusions to yours! the last chapter of irp was super heavy so here's my apology and christmas gift (do i drop another one tmr...i really dont wanna write chapter 8 😩). i hope you all enjoy this short n sweet lil ramble i threw together and happy holidays 🫶

This can not be your life right now.

It’s actually kind of impressive how all of the stars aligned on this one particular night to fuck you over. You’re not a terrible person. You hold the doors for everyone, give up your seat on the bus for sweet old ladies, and you always allocate a portion of your paychecks to donate to Wikipedia. By all accounts, you should be overwhelmed with good karma, although it seems your luck has depleted on this night and this night alone.

It all started on the 20th when you flew out to Connecticut. You work a cushy job as a marketing consultant for the WNBA, which means you spend a lot of time in the air and across the country trying to unfuck – sorry, trying to optimize and rejuvenate – the state of the league and its teams. It’s a task easier said than done. Nobody seems to want to listen to you until they realize that your master’s degrees in marketing and business analytics actually mean something and aren’t just really expensive pieces of paper that you hang in your office. You spend a couple of days in Uncasville talking strategies to boost ticket sales and to gain more traction; they’re the only professional team the state has – it should not be hard to get people to show up if you can market it right, but here you are.

Connecticut is nearly a bust. It’s cold and you spend two full days in meetings getting talked over by men who think they understand numbers and branding. Then, on the third day, the front office suddenly realizes what you’ve been talking about (this shit was covered in your sophomore year intro to marketing class, but hey, the less people know, the more you get paid, so who’s really complaining?) and the trajectory of your trip makes a sudden turnaround. On the 23rd and early on the 24th, you help the Sun roll out the new optimizations, and what do you know? Ticket sales surge by 17%, including some season tickets, all is well in the world and it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

Then, all is suddenly not well and you remember that Christmas miracles are for people not surrounded by idiots. Your boss emails you just before you leave for the airport: The Lynx need your help. I’ve sent you tickets for the first flight out of Connecticut. Meet with them on the 26th. Said “flight” departs from Connecticut at 8:30pm on Christmas Eve, which means you’re not even in Minnesota until 12am if you’re lucky, which means you have to figure out hotel arrangements so you can take a nap because you’ve barely slept in five days, which means you have to figure out how to be nice to people again because the Sun front office has you pissed all the way the fuck off.

So, you’re tired, overworked, extremely irritated, and hungry, although that last problem is solved by airport Subway. You just hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, either – you firmly believed that you were better off betting all of your money on black rather than taking the chance on airport food, but you didn’t have much of a choice and your stomach was growling. You eat, settling in a chair at your gate, and patiently await for your plane to arrive.

Then, the overhead PA clicks on with some static noise, announcing, “Flight 932 to Minneapolis and all other flights exiting Hartford will be delayed due to inclement weather. I repeat–”

The blood rushes to your head. Your eye twitches. There’s a crying baby somewhere in the airport and you can’t take it anymore. Honestly, what’s stopping you? Flying a plane cannot be that difficult. You’re pretty persuasive. You can tell TSA you’re just young for a pilot and you’re not wearing a pilot’s uniform because it’s Christmas Eve and what are you, the feds? All you’re really asking for at this point is a nap but there’s no way in hell you’re making it to a hotel in these conditions and the chances of you sleeping in an airport with all of your belongings out for someone to grab are even lower.

A commotion towards the check in counter commands your attention. You turn, dreading the eventual crash out of an airport Karen, but it’s better than the crying baby who still hasn’t shut the fuck up.

“Please, there’s gotta be something else you can do,” a tall, broad-shouldered blonde is begging, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “It’s Christmas Eve, I have to get home.”

The lady at the check in counter sounds sympathetic when she responds. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our hands are tied. We can’t send our planes out in this weather, but if it eases up, the next flight out should have you arriving in Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon.”

You hear the blonde groan, her tone sounding something like, I can’t fucking believe this is my life, which is a sentiment you whole-heartedly agree with. “Can you please lemme know if there’s anything earlier?” she pleads. “Like, if by the grace of God this weather clears and we can leave sooner.”

“Of course, ma’am. All updates will be announced.”

The response is almost robotical, but you can tell the receptionist is trying her best, too, and the last place she wants to be is hanging out at the airport on Christmas Eve. The blonde sighs, thanking her, and from the corner of your eye, you watch her hike her bag up over her shoulder and she moves to sit directly in front of you. That’s when you truly get a good look at her, at the dejected blue of her eyes, the chisel of her jaw, the logo on her hoodie. Paige Bueckers is no stranger to you. You grew up watching ball, so obviously you’re familiar with her game – any self-respecting basketball fan is. But by virtue of your job, Paige Bueckers is a name that makes your marketing heart beat just a little faster. Ever since Dallas won the lottery, you’ve been all over their marketing team. Paige’s entire existence and the chance she gets drafted to Dallas is the sole reason the Wings’ tickets are flying off the shelves. She’s the most marketable college athlete there is right now, one of the top rookie prospects for the league, but one look at her face in person and you’re forgetting all about your job. Her jaw is tight with a simmering anger, and honestly, you feel terrible for her – she already spends so much time away from her family and here she is trying to get out of Bumfuck, Connecticut, so she can be home in time for Christmas.

You find a little bit of bravery when you raise your voice slightly to ask her, “No luck?”

She looks up, glancing at you and taking in your features, and laughing slightly when she realizes you’re genuinely just trying to make conversation and not trying to get a soundbite out of her. “You heard that?” she asks sheepishly, sinking a little in her seat to get comfortable. You pretend to not notice her manspread.

“Well,” you begin, glancing over at the receptionist. “The desk is like, ten feet away.” She laughs again and nods, murmuring touche under her breath. “932 Minneapolis?” you ask, referring to your flight.

Paige nods again, quirking a smile. “You stalking me or sum’?”

You shrug your shoulders, a coy smile on your face. “Just observant,” you quip.

Paige grins fully. “What about you?” she asks. “You work for the league?”

At that, you can’t help your surprise, raising a brow. “How’d you know that?”

“Just observant,” she throws your words back at you. You laugh. “Kidding. I see your ID pokin’ out of your bag. You from here, or they got you workin’ on the holidays?”

“Work,” you respond. Paige whistles lowly. “I’m a marketing consultant. Been up here for a few days working with the Sun, then I’m heading to Minnesota to fix the Lynx’s bullshit.” You blink, registering your words, blushing as Paige laughs. “You did not hear that. I’m usually nicer to my employers.”

“They got you workin’ and flyin’ out on Christmas Eve,” Paige points out. “You should be meaner.”

You incline your head in a nod, huffing. “All of this for office potlucks and dental coverage,” you joke. “Don’t quit basketball.” Paige grins again and you’re suddenly reminded of your manners. “Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself.” You do as such, only mildly surprised when she stands to shake your hand and introduces herself, too, which is honestly kind of endearing. Then, she plops into the empty seat next to yours, smiling widely.

“So, marketing consultant,” she says, her tone nonchalant as she gets comfortable next to you, extending her long legs across her suitcase. “How often will I get to see you?”

You glance at her, raising a wry eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?” you ask.

Paige shrugs a shoulder, smirking. “A little. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. You can see the pride that shines in her eyes. You roll your eyes in amusement, still in slight disbelief, but you redirect back to her question. “Honestly, probably a lot. The league is super messy from a business perspective and their actual marketing sphere isn’t that great, either. As soon as you get drafted I’ll probably have to fly down to whichever poverty team you land at and teach them how to market you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and despite the tease in her tone, she does seem interested. “How would you market me?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Well…” Paige glances down to her watch, then out the windows where snow falls in heavy sheets. “Looks like a lot.”

You snicker. “Alright. Bear with me, okay?” Paige nods in earnest, her attention fully on you as you begin to ramble. Truthfully, you did like your job when you were able to do it. The issue is and always will be the idiots you have to work with who overlook your credentials. “So, I’m not thinking about your personal brand at all. Like, that one’s already incredible. Your PR team did their big one with you. But the issue with athletes like you, wide-eyed and fresh out of college with an insane resume of endorsements, followers, deals, whatever – the issue is that whatever team you get drafted to is gonna want to rebuild their entire image around you. Think Clark, Brink, Reese, Jackson, Cardoso. It’s textbook – you advertise the person who’s gonna get you the most clicks, the most sales. So, how can we use that to actually grow the game, the league? I’m talking about longevity. There’s so many people tuning in for you that don’t know shit about basketball, and honestly, they’re gonna be scared to ask questions.

“So we push something corny. Social media segments with a catchy name like Ball With Bueckers or some shit where you break down basketball plays, rules, the stuff you’re gonna see and hear when you watch a game. What’s a pick and roll? A screen? Why is she getting fouled for blocking that shot, isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Education, interest, loyalty, and competition sells. Stories sell, too, which is why the league is still trying to push the Clark/Reese rivalry. That’s old news, though. A more compelling story would have been the Fever/Sun rivalry, especially after the Sun beat the Fever and the Fever hired their coach. Or Fever/Wings, for reasons I’m not gonna ruin your night with.” Paige laughs at that, and you smile, clearing your throat and trying to find your train of thought. “So, when I’m undoubtedly called in to fix your team’s mess, that’s what I’d be suggesting. People already love you. Using that connection to get them to love ball, too, is my goal.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Paige comments, her lips quirking into a slight smile. You can’t help but preen a little, flushing. “Like, about basketball. You really care about the sport. Feels like that’s harder to find lately.”

“Well, I was too short to play it, so gotta settle for something, right?” you joke.

Paige looks you up and down. You’re wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt from college, but her gaze is shameless, appreciative despite your casual airport wear. She chuckles, a disbelieving noise building in the back of her throat. “Nah. You’re what, 6’5?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Try a foot less. But I appreciate you for believing in me.”

Paige smiles, nudging you a little. “I was serious, though. You’re super passionate. I like that.”

“Still flirting?”

“S’not everyday you get snowed in at the airport with a pretty girl,” Paige says, her gaze warm, and you can’t help but blush again. “Gotta shoot my shot, you know?” She mimes throwing a ball, her wrist bent, and you shake your head fondly. Admittedly, she did have you – hook, line, and sinker. You enjoyed the conversation, her company. There were certainly worse people to be stuck with, but you’re glad it was with her.

You shrug your shoulders. “Shoot away,” you say. Her subsequent grin is wide and you find yourself drawn in just a little further.

She asks you virtually everything under the sun – where you grew up, where you went to college, the team you were rooting for, and you answer. You tell her you’re an Atlanta native, born and raised, although you moved up north to study at Columbia. You were 8 when the Dream was founded and that was your team, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At 10, you watched them win the eastern conference finals on your birthday and that was easily the moment your life changed. Basketball was your future and that much was certain. She asks how you landed the league job (connections, a thick resume, and lots of persuading), how you adjusted to the constant traveling (lots of caffeine and really good concealer), and the hard-hitting question of, are you satisfied?

For that, you really had no answer. Sure, you’re always busy, and that’s better than the alternative of sitting in your office and watching the seconds tick by. You’re good at what you do and your job makes a positive impact on the league. Your colleagues will be who they are; your work speaks for itself and that’s what you pride yourself on. But there’s always going to be a small part of you that yearns for something more, like someone else to share your life with. Someone who sits, and listens, and engages with you; someone who loves basketball just as much as you do (even if it’s a different type of love), someone who’s steady and spontaneous and adaptable.

Then Paige is smiling at you, her gaze warm and soft despite the below freezing temperatures outside; she’s listening, and engaging, steady, spontaneous, adaptable, and probably the only person in the world whose love for basketball could rival your own. You’ve known Paige for all of three hours and it’s nearing midnight in an airport in Connecticut, but it’s Christmas Eve and she feels so right. You would really like to see where this goes, and judging by the way her fingertips brush your knuckles, you think she might like to see that, too.

The two of you talk all through the night, waiting for the weather to ease up. The conversation never slows and you’re certain you’ve never smiled or laughed this much in a long time. It takes you twelve hours of delirious conversation to realize that your luck never depleted. Paige was your overwhelming karma, sent by some sort of Christmas miracle to answer all of the wishes you’d kept to yourself for years. The stars aligned not to fuck you over, but to trap you in an airport with Paige Bueckers, and you find that she’s possibly the best Christmas gift you could have ever gotten.

When the weather finally clears and your plane arrives, you find that your seats are right next to each other – and, well, fate works in funny ways, doesn’t it? You’re both exhausted, but when she lowers the armrest and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into your side, you can’t help your relieved sigh, leaning into her chest. You and Paige sleep through the entire flight. You dream of soft blue eyes, the lingering scent of her cologne, the promise of how this could last.

You land in Minneapolis and you eventually have to go your separate ways. The two of you exchange numbers, saying your goodbyes, although Paige doesn’t let you get anymore than three feet away from her before she’s catching you by the wrist and pulling you into her. Her hands are cold against your cheeks as she kisses you gently, something deep and lingering and a confirmation that tastes like ‘you and I aren’t done here.’ The falling snow lands gently on your cheeks, melting under the heat of your blush, and you can’t help your smile, interrupting your kiss as the both of you dissolve into laughter. Paige kisses you again, something softer that leaves you feeling warm all over despite the chill, and you thank your Christmas miracle for leading you here.

[andremarcusburky]

Wish for a peaceful night [3] - N.P.

A/N: heyo part 4 (WHICH IS THE FINAL) is up in a week from now! i hope you’ll like this 

masterlist

part 1 [2] [4]

shoutout again to @psychospeak-blog for proofreading and aiding me whenever i doubt myself

“hey, i’m sorry about what i said. can we meet and talk it out?”  When you first read it you thought it was Tom, but the name above the message started with ‘N’. You didn’t want to see him, not now. Not when you knew he was right, when Tom was starting to prove it. The feeling in your chest was one quite unfamiliar to you, it sickened you. You felt fragile, weak. Vulnerable, even. If you met Nolan you just might end up trying to kiss him at this point. You didn’t answer.

The day was spent trying to occupy yourself. You did all your errands, filled your entire fridge and managed to call all your friends and family back home. All you wanted was to go away for a while, go home. You needed a break from Philadelphia, from the people and the drama. A break from your current life. But that was still a few more days away, so you went to sleep early, and woke up to yet another text.

“Can we meet today? We have to talk” Tom was always short with texts. Sometimes he even used punctuation, but you’d just gotten used to it. However, that meant his texts were impossible to read emotion from. He was right though, you did have to talk. If it meant ending it all, or giving it another go, you didn’t know. All you knew at this point is confusion, but maybe that’s all you have to tell him.

“Coffeeshop on 4th?”  He answered pretty quickly and you made plans for two hours lately, the two longest hours of your life perhaps. You arrived five minutes early, ordering your coffee along with his usual and then sitting down. Two minutes later Tom walked through the door, a hood over his head. He walked up to you slowly with hands in his pockets, you could see a faint smile on his face as he took a seat. It wasn’t a very happy smile, but a friendly one nonetheless.

You sat in silence for a minute. It wasn’t awkward, but then again it wasn’t pleasant. “I know you didn’t cheat” he finally broke the silence. You looked up and met his sorry eyes, nodding your head ever so slightly to confirm. “I know you wouldn’t, and I’m sorry” you didn’t think it would be this easy to solve your issues. While one part of you kind of liked the familiarity of your boyfriend, another part hoped for an easy break-up. It would probably be most fair to just tell him something along the lines of that. But how do you do that, without breaking his heart along the way?

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, but I do still think I have the right to be concerned” he spoke as he fiddled with a napkin. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way” he smiled, amused by his own statement. You laughed at his half-hearted attempt at lightening the mood. “I have to be honest, Tom” you said, coughing lightly before continuing. “You deserve that, even if it means you’ll hate me”

“I know you like him” he interrupted you. Your eyes widened in surprise, his expression was the exact same though. He looked a little amused, still. “You’ve always liked him, and he’s always liked you. Everyone knows that, me too” your boyfriend took a sip from his coffee. He looked carefree as he spoke, even though the subject was his own girlfriends crush.

“I guess a part of me thought I could change that, but I can’t. I’m right though, aren’t I?” he asked. You felt yourself nodding along ever so slightly, still so careful to hurt him.

“Listen, Tom” you tried to explain yourself, maybe ease the pain. But he beat you to it again. “No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean for me to get caught up in all this, you’re not someone who’ll willingly hurt people” he looked into your eyes and the smile he gave you was genuine. “But it’s not fair to either one of us if we keep going like this”

After that you hugged each other goodbye, happy things didn’t end in a big tussle. And just like that, it was over.

You sat in your car for twenty minutes without moving an inch, just thinking about these last couple of days. Everything had been fine, until that night with Nolan. Sure, you and Tom would’ve broken up eventually, but things were still fine before that. Maybe it really was for the best though. You couldn’t see a future with Tom, you never pictured the two of you walking down the aisle or having children. Staying together would’ve been wasting time for the both of you.

When you finally came home you allowed yourself the luxury of a long shower, before trying to get some studying done. It was surprisingly easy to focus, considering everything else in your life. But maybe everything else being too much to think about made the studying a little easier on your brain. It wasn’t until four hours later that you decided you were done for the day. You picked up your phone to scroll through some social media, but something else caught your sight.

“i know you’re angry and you have the right to be, just please let me apologize” “ill get you chocolate and ice cream for a year” If he only knew how hard this was for you. These are the things that make it so easy to fall for Nolan, but he would never be yours. That had been clear for years. In the past you’d had to deal with him having a girlfriend, trying to get over him while watching him with someone else. You weren’t going to put yourself in a position like that again.

“I need some space, trying to figure shit out. we’re good though, dont worry” You quickly sent the text and turned off your phone, not wanting to see the response. A few hours later you turned it on to set the alarm for the next morning, only to have your heart expand about ten sizes. “take your time, i love you babe”

“I repeat, United Airlines flight 2408 has been cancelled”. Timing could not be any worse. You’d been sitting at the airport for four hours, hoping your delayed flight would be boarded soon. But no, you did not have that kind of luck. You could cry, honestly. It was the 23rd, two days ‘til christmas. And you were stuck in Philly, with no family by your side. To say that the holidays were going to suck this year was a wild understatement.

People were lining up to yell at whoever was unfortunate to be working at this hour, as if they could snap their fingers and make the snowstorm disappear. You sat in your seat for probably half an hour, just wondering what the hell you were going to do now. Your thoughts were interrupted however, as a familiar face was shown on the TV in the sportsbar in front of you. It was third period, three minutes to go. The Avs 4-3 lead was gone, thanks to Nols. It was through the legs, like highlight reel for years to come. The no-goal streak was gone, as well. But you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel joyful. The feeling was more… empty. Like you couldn’t actually feel. You weren’t sad, it felt more hopeless. Nothing in your life seemed to be going your way. You felt yourself stand up, your feet moving forward towards the bar. A beer or two won’t hurt anyone, you figured.

An hour later Claude had scored in overtime and the game was long over, you were still sat at the bar though. Time was now spent counting how many men would give you attention, the woman drinking alone, and so far it was five. Three of them had gotten angry when told you weren’t interested.

You hadn’t had more than two beers though, getting drunk on your own seemed a little too sad. Your thoughts were interrupted though as your phone lit up, the name “Nolan” was displayed. Something inside was telling you to let it ring until it fell silent, but something else was screaming at you to let him in already. And you can’t hear someone talking while someone else is screaming.

“Hey, congratz” you said softly once you’d answered.

“You need someone to pick you up from the airport?” he sounded more concerned than happy, surprisingly. You’d think he’d be over the moon, that was probably the best goal of his career.

“Can you?” you asked, feeling a little guilt build up. You had been pushing him away, yet he still came to help even in the slightest of needs. “I’m already on my way”.

It had been years since you were this nervous to see him. He was your best friend, after all. The one you could count on in thick and thin, and here you were planning out conversations in your head, making sure you don’t fuck up. You’d agreed to meet in the parking garage, figuring that’d be an easier spot to easily get in and out of instead of standing in line with everyone else at the regular pickup spot. His car drove up by you slowly and he got out immediately, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m still sorry”, he said quietly. For a few seconds you were too caught up in his scent to comprehend what he was hinting at, but then your one or two brain cells managed to put the pieces together.

“Nolan, I forgave you for that. It’s alright” you said. He let you go, much to your dismay. “I still shouldn’t have said it. If you want to be with Tom then I should be supportive of your decision” he didn’t look you in the eyes, but you still knew he meant what he said.

“About that… you were right”. He looked at you confused. “You were right about Tom, about me and Tom, or maybe everything” you confessed. His facial expression turned more into clarity, then surprise. “What are you saying?” he asked.

You scratched your neck and picked up your bag, moving towards the trunk of Nolans car. “We broke up” you stated, now looking back at him. Nolan took the bag from your hands while you opened the trunk, and then tossed it in.

“I’m sorry” he said, eyes once again not meeting yours. You could tell he wanted to smile, but he didn’t. You both got into the car, and he looked over at you again.

“You should be doing whatever makes you happy” he was almost whispering as he spoke. “If that means not giving a shit about my opinion or anyone else’s, so be it. Just do what makes you happy” he said. You smiled at him and leaned in to peck his cheek, knowing maybe you shouldn’t. But you really couldn’t help yourself.

Nolan started the car and drove off, but soon enough you were stuck in traffic with everyone else trying to escape the airport.

“So… christmas with the boys then, eh?” he gave you a crooked grin and looked over at you. You gave him a surprised look back, so far you hadn’t even began to think about how the upcoming days would be spent. But spending them with Nolan seemed much better than with anyone else in Philly. You weren’t even sure if you had any other choice, it was probably Nolan or all alone, on christmas.

“I’m invited?” you asked, smiling back at him.

“Of course you are, think I’d leave you all alone?” he answered.

Christmas music was playing on the radio, another song about how someone was going to be home for christmas. Nolan started singing along, clearly trying to make you feel better.

“I know Philly isn’t really home, but it could be. We could make it home” he murmured. It probably wasn’t intended to sound like it did, because he didn’t seem to think it was a weird thing to say. Yet, in your ears it sounded quite magical.

“Thanks, Nols” you said, leaning into his arm.

You usually hated lines, traffic and anything that made you have to wait. But you could’ve been in that car forever, as long as you were with him. You weren’t even really talking a lot, most of the time you just listened to the music. The stars were bright and trees were spread out on the sides of the road, it was romantic as hell.

Before you even realized it, it was 1AM. You felt yourself dozing off and the next time your eyes opened it was when someone opened your door beside you. You quickly turned and squinted at the figure outside of the car.

“Oh, you’re awake” Nolan said. “I was thinking about carrying sleeping beauty inside but this is easier I guess” he joked and went back to get your bag. When you looked around at your surroundings you realized you were in Nolan’s garage. “So, it’s almost 2AM and tomorrow is christmas eve, or today is actually” he started explaining when he noticed your confused expression. “And we’re spending christmas together, so I figured you could stay here. I mean if you want I can take you home, but I didn’t want to wake you, so…”

“No, no. It’s alright. It’ll be fun!” You interrupted him, walking towards the elevator. “It’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before”

“And who doesn’t like cuddling on christmas?” Nolan joked, grinning to himself. You tried your best not to blush, but failed.

He wasn’t holding you when you woke the next morning, actually he wasn’t even in bed. A sweet smell filled your nostrils however, meaning you were in for a great breakfast. You had borrowed a shirt from him again, but slept in your panties this time. They were hipsters, so you figured they probably covered more than all your bikinis even. Nolan hadn’t seemed to be thinking the same though. The second you walked into the room in his shirt and just panties you could tell he didn’t know where to look, what to focus on. When you’d gotten in bed he’d immediately swept you in his arms, though. And the feeling was still there, two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. You remember him whispering “Merry christmas eve” in your ear before you’d both dozed off into deep slumber.

You stretched out with a groan and sat up, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. The air was chilly, so you took a quick look around the room and saw a hoodie laying on a chair. It fit you like a dress, so you figured you could go without pants for now.

When you entered the kitchen Nolan was piling waffles onto a plate and placed it on the island. When he turned, all motions stopped, his eyes glued to you. “What? Nolan is everything alright?” you asked. He looked shocked, but with those rosy cheeks again.

He shook his head suddenly and turned to the waffle iron, pouring more batter in there. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry” he spoke, back turned to you. “I’m just tired, I guess”

You went around the kitchen island and sat down, facing him. He was still blushing, but glanced up at you now with a slight smile. His eyes landed on the number ‘19’ on your chest, next to the flyers logo.

“So, you in the mood for christmas music?” you asked, turning on the speaker. “Of course” Nolan answered. He pushed a plate towards you while you tried to get the bluetooth working. Soon enough, WHAM was heard throughout the complex. You looked at the waffles in front of you and smiled, but you didn’t touch them.

“Something wrong?” he asked, motioning towards the food. “No, I just think we should eat together, I can wait” you answered.

“It’s gonna get cold” he explained, laughing slightly. “I can eat cold waffles”

Nolan kept looking over at you throughout breakfast, sneaking glances and smiling all the time. He didn’t say anything, but it made you feel all giddy inside. You kept stealing strawberries from his plate, while he took blueberries from yours in return.

“So I was thinking maybe we could go by my place so I can get some things?” you said as you were putting the dishes away. You really just wanted to pick up the gift you got for him a while back.

“Yeah, sure” he answered. “Or actually can I drop you off? I have to go pick something up at the rink but I’ll be back right after”

You nodded and went to get changed. Your luggage was packed with everything you’d need for a whole two weeks forward, so it was more than enough for a few days. Nolan entered the bedroom when you were sat on the floor in front of his mirror, doing your makeup. He took a quick look at you before grabbing some clothes of his own. You watched him in the mirror as he took his shirt off, his back muscles looked better than you could ever imagine. You didn’t even realize as he turned that he might see you looking, until your eyes met in the mirror. He was grinning and you could see your cheeks turning red, but he didn’t mention it. Instead he passed you by and went into the bathroom, when he came out he was wearing jeans and a hoodie.

“What’s that?” he asked, sitting down next to you. Nolan was pointing at the beautyblender in your hand. “It’s a make-up sponge” you answered. He looked confused as you applied powder with it. “You use it to apply make-up, like foundation, setting powder and that stuff” you explained. He nodded along, but you guessed he still didn’t really get it.

He sat there watching you for the entire time, every now and then asking questions or commenting when he thought something was pretty.

“Are you using eye-shadows?” he asked, a slight grin on his face. “I don’t know, why?” you asked, a little confused.

“If you do, can I pick one out?” he asked, earning a laugh from you. You took out a palette and opened it for him. He took a few seconds to look at them all, then at you, and then back at them. Then he pointed to one. “That one, it matches your eyes” he said.

You could feel your heart melt at the look in his eyes, he seemed so happy to get to help you. You smiled at him and applied the shade carefully in the crease, leaving it like that.