Well, this should not surprise you.

This will be a series of one shots of Delena's moments that I thought would have been cool to have in the show.

But since i am not Julie pec, TVD is how it is.

Believe me.

If it had depended on me, Delena would have had a lot more goofy scenes, and we would have explored their relationship further.

Which brings me to my next wish.

Their arguments.

And Stefan, being the mediator, unfortunately.

The Salvatore boarding house was eerily quiet—well, quieter than usual—when Elena walked in, armed with an arsenal of snacks and her determination to check on Stefan. It had been a rocky few weeks for him (because when wasn't it?), and she was ready to be the voice of reason.

What she hadn't anticipated was finding Damon sprawled on the couch, flipping through an old vinyl collection like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Damon, what are you doing?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Babysitting," he said, not even looking up.

"Babysitting who?"

Damon gave her a pointed look.

Elena sighed. "Stefan is not a toddler, Damon."

"You say that," Damon said, finally setting down the vinyl, "but someone had to confiscate his brooding candles before he accidentally set himself—and the house—on fire. Again."

Elena groaned. "Oh my God, one time, Damon. That happened one time!"

Damon raised a finger. "One time is all it takes, Elena."

Before she could argue, Stefan walked in, looking more like a deer caught in headlights than a centuries-old vampire.

"Hey, Elena," he greeted cautiously. Then, spotting Damon, he frowned. "Are you seriously still here?"

"Nice to see you too, little brother," Damon quipped, leaning back with his usual cocky smirk.

"Okay, this is great," Elena said, clapping her hands. "We're all here, so let's talk about what's going on with you, Stefan."

"Yeah," Damon added, sitting up straight. "Let's talk about your poor life choices and how they keep dragging me into your drama."

Stefan sighed. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means," Damon started, pointing dramatically, "that you can't just run off into the woods every time you feel like being 'one with nature.' It's weird, it's unsettling, and frankly, I'm not getting paid enough for this."

"You're not getting paid at all," Stefan deadpanned.

"Exactly!" Damon said, throwing his hands in the air.

Elena pinched the bridge of her nose. "Can we please stay on topic?" She turned to Stefan. "Look, we're worried about you. You've been isolating yourself, and that's not healthy."

"Thank you," Damon said, pointing at her. "See? She gets it."

Stefan crossed his arms. "You're both overreacting. I've been fine."

Damon snorted. "Sure, because nothing screams 'fine' like journaling about your feelings while listening to the most depressing Chopin playlist ever created."

"I like Chopin!" Stefan defended, though his voice cracked slightly.

Elena turned to Damon, hands on her hips. "Do you really have to be this antagonistic?"

"Antagonistic?" Damon echoed, feigning shock. "I'm just calling it like I see it, Elena. You're the one who wants to coddle him."

"I am not coddling him!" Elena argued, her cheeks turning red. "I just think he needs someone to listen to him without making fun of him every five seconds!"

"Someone like you, I assume?" Damon countered.

"Yes!" she shot back. "Because I actually care!"

"Newsflash, sweetheart: I care too. I just happen to show it in a way that doesn't involve hugs and hot cocoa."

Stefan, sitting on the edge of the couch, groaned. "You guys, I'm literally right here."

"Stay out of this," they said in unison, both pointing at him like synchronized disciplinarians.

And there it was again—that bizarre dynamic Stefan couldn't unsee anymore.

"You two realize how dysfunctional this is, right?" Stefan asked, standing up. "I mean, you're arguing about what's best for me like I'm some rebellious teenager who just got grounded. And honestly? You sound like parents going through a messy divorce."

Elena blinked. "We do not—"

"You absolutely do," Stefan interrupted. "You're like a sitcom: 'Mom' wants me to talk about my feelings, and 'Dad' wants me to stop embarrassing him in public."

"First of all," Damon said, standing now too, "I would be the cool parent."

"Cool parent?" Elena scoffed. "You don't even know how to spell 'emotional support.'"

"Yeah, because I'm busy teaching survival skills, Elena," Damon fired back. "Like not walking into sketchy alleys or trusting random witches who promise you eternal happiness."

Stefan threw his hands up. "Oh my God, you're proving my point!"

Elena groaned. "Okay, fine. Maybe we're a little... involved."

Damon smirked. "Understatement of the year."

Stefan, now leaning against the doorway with crossed arms, added, "You know, if you guys spent half as much time solving your weird tension as you do trying to 'fix' me, I might actually feel less like a third wheel."

That earned him a death hlare from both of them.

"We do not have tension!"

Stefan raised an eyebrow.

Damon's smirk faltered slightly. "Okay, I'm leaving. This has been sufficiently awkward."

"Fine!" Elena snapped, crossing her arms.

Damon gave her one last pointed look. "Fine."

And just like that, he stormed out of the room in classic Damon fashion.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Elena sighed and sank into the couch. "He's insufferable."

Stefan snickered. "You're both insufferable."

"Shut up, Stefan."

Stefan grinned as he sauntered toward the staircase. "You know," he called over his shoulder, "you should just admit it already. You and Damon? Totally endgame."

Elena grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Get out!"

From somewhere upstairs, Damon shouted, "I HEARD THAT!"

And Stefan laughed all the way up the stairs.

Soooooo

this is the first one!

pls pls review! I'll be taking suggestions!