#been thinking about this a long time and idk why it never seemed to be thought of or used by anyone else

[sandmunch]

Namgyu jealousy head canons

warnings: none i think

this isn’t proofread

(this is my first time writing something like this so if it’s bad please tell me)

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-I feel like he isn’t the type to throw temper tantrums when’s he’s jealous, instead his jaw would clench subtly, his eyes would narrow, and he suddenly stops teasing you and would become very quiet.

-He would be side eyeing the person who you are talking to and keeping his arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

-When the person making him jealous isn’t around, he would make snarky and backhanded comments about them.

-If someone praises/flirts with you (thanos) he will mutter under his breath about how you don’t need his petty compliments, but of course he would never say anything to thanos face, always making sure he says it just loud enough for you to hear and no one else.

-Namgyu will push himself in the games to prove his worth to you, whether it’s showing off his strength or his ability to manipulate people to get what he wants. It’s his way of silently telling you that he’s the only one you need.

-During mingle he keeps you close, saying how he “doesn’t trust them” and “just wants to keep you safe” and if you end up being dragged off by someone else during mingle he will make a big deal out of it.

-When no one is paying attention, or it’s just the two of you, he will sulk replaying the situation that made him jealous and overthinking it, but i doubt you would ever realise that as he just stares off into space with a annoyed scowl on his face.

-He hates how vulnerable you make him feel but he can’t help but getting worked up when thanos flirts with you or you just get friendly with someone.

-If you confront him about his behaviour he will just scoff and deny it “seriously you think i’m jealous of them?” but his tone gives it all away.

-But he would eventually say “i just don’t want them taking advantage of you,” he voice dripping with concern.

——————————————-

Scene idea for the last 2 head cannons:

The game had ended for the day, and the tension in the air was strong. Players huddled in corners of the room, whispering alliances or simply trying to rest. Namgyu, however, sat stiffly against the wall, his eyes locked onto you across the room. You were chatting animatedly with another player—a man whose cocky grin only seemed to irritate Namgyu further.

When the conversation went on for too long, Namgyu suddenly stood and crossed the room, his footsteps heavy enough to make you notice. “Can we talk?” he said, not waiting for a response as he grabbed your arm and led you to a quieter corner by his bed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, annoyed but curious.

Namgyu’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. “what’s wrong is you acting like that guy is so funny and interesting.”

You blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Namgyu, gesturing to the man you’d been speaking with. “Do you really think he cares about you? Or anyone here? He’s just using you.”

You folded your arms, trying to hold your ground. “And how is that any different from what we’re all doing? You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.”

His reaction was immediate,he scoffed, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “Jealous? Of him?” He shook his head, but his voice softened, betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I just… don’t want you getting hurt. You don’t deserve to be someone’s pawn in here.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard. For all his gruffness, there was genuine concern beneath his anger.

“Thanks, I guess,” you said cautiously.

Namgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his long dark hair. “Just… be careful, alright?” His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, before he turned and walked away. Leaving you a little confused about why he cared so much.

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guys idk if this was any good but i hope you like it

[ravenwind-75]

The boy who became Indigo

Word count: about 1468 idk

Characters: Sebastian Sallow

Warnings: Angst

a/n: No beta (wrote late at night) and unedited. You can thank all the tiktok edits of Sebastian to this song lately. And @heylorrain who introduced me to this song.

tagging @butternutt613 who wanted to see this.

—————————————

There used to be a boy who shone so brightly. A boy full of curiosity and joy. Laughing and frolicking with his sister on summer days, his best friend with a beaming grin beside him. Days at school spent pulling elaborate pranks, studying together long into the night. All Sebastian wanted to do was live, to live as fully as he could. To learn, explore, to see the world in its fullest. Sebastian had dark days, but that was before magic came into his life. He was too young to help his parents, too young to learn something that could have saved them. His uncle was old. He only knew the old ways. Sebastian was sure that there was something that he missed. His parents had always told him that books held the answers. And his uncle didn’t read.

When magic came into his life the world opened up so much more to him. He could create things at the flick of his fingertips. He could do the impossible. There were endless possibilities and he wanted to do them all. He loved the thrill that came with dueling, with controlling an element as powerful as fire with a thrilling whoosh of a simple piece of wood infused with magic. Magic that came from inside of him. His mother had called him her golden boy. And the magic he felt inside him, the magic others saw, was just as warm. Ominis had told him that one time.

“You’re like the sun, Sebastian. You’re warm and gentle, but fiery and explosive at times. But it compliments you. It fits you. You just have this essence, that’s pure, positive, and dependable. Bright. And you’re valuable to me, my most prized, only friendship. You have a heart of gold.”

Sebastian had ruffled his hair, and laughed it off, not knowing what to do with the praise. “You’re one to talk Mr. Golden hair himself. You’re more perfect than me. My uncle seems to think so.”

“You’re blinding, that's why. If I was any metal I’d be silver. Cold, pure, and reflective. Of you.”

~~

The first scratch, the first flaw to cut into that heart of gold was a large one. A long big chunk out of the middle. The piece that belonged to his sister. When she was cursed so was he, each scream scraping along that heart of gold and chipping away. But even flawed gold can shine. It can shine in a flashing grin when it sees something brighter than itself. Something that sparkles with brilliance. The girl who knocked him down.

Sebastian was always there for her. First to jump in to take her to Hogsmeade, fight beside her in crossed wands, carry her books between classes, and help her find a lost book.

Ominis noticed that Sebastian shone again for her.

The gold had been fading away as he pined for his sister, little impurities sneaking in and there, impacting his quality of life as he spent many nights poring over magic of all types, selling himself for answers, filling the holes with everything else.

As the sun shone brighter again, it cast rainbows through the diamond, which reflected on the silver. All was well...

Yes, they ignored how the laser-like curse cut through Sebastian with the guilt he felt. How when the relic made one fade it made the other who reflected fade too. And how when the diamond dimmed in the shadows, she never lost her clarity of it all. Of what he was becoming.

Oh, the golden-hearted boy- how he faded. He was barely gold anymore. He was imperfect and flawed. He lacked depth and was cold and detached. He was prone to fully breaking. He was a purple gold now, fragile, hard, and brittle. Subject to crack at sudden impact.

~~

Sebastian’s heart was fracturing, the cracks spreading wide enough to slowly change him. Growing larger every day. Sebastian had been cold for a while now- cold with the guilt, the absence of his sister's once radiant presence.

The boy who once lived fully, loved fiercely, shining like the sun now looked at the world through a dull reflective sheen like aluminum. A distorted image of himself and others. His magic, once pure and warm, felt as hollow as his dark eyes. The heart of gold was becoming something- it had become something less. Less brilliant, less luminous, a mere shadow of itself-himself.

When he was alone he felt it the most. That all that was left of him was a ghost, his former self gasping for air as it faded every day, away forever. Each piece fell away as he cracked. Mostly it was his uncle. The man who had never believed in him, never even his childhood dreams. The man who told him to give up on saving all he had left of his family. He never saw past the old traditions, he was convinced it was futile. “It’s impossible”! He always said.

Sebastian even when he was shining wasn’t good enough. Always inadequate. Every time he looked at him with disdain, dismissed him, and crushed his hopes in front of Sebastian’s eyes, the cracks got deeper. The pressure built. The weight of his failure, his guilt, the fear of losing Anne - became unbearable.

His diamond girl, her sharp true words cut through him the most, cutting deep into his melancholy purple-gold soul. Even pure gold can be cut by one. And he was even more fragile than that.

The breaking point came- the final snap.

When his uncle stood before him, lecturing him about dark magic and threatening his diamond girl. When he snatched all Sebastian had poured himself into out of his hand and destroyed his hopes once and for all. Taking the hope of being with Anne again away forever.

At last the cracks split through.

The words echoed in his mind, “You are not enough."

In a flash, in a flare of hot rage and despair, he uttered the words summoned from the darkest depths of his soul. A curse he had never dared use. One he didn’t even know would work but the hatred, the suppressed emotions all exploded from him in a violent surge of green crackling energy.

He watched with horror as his uncle fell to the cold floor, the light going from his eyes as he was wrapped in death’s embrace. Sebastian stood frozen and numb as his wand tumbled from his hand with a small echoing clatter.

~~

The next few hours passed in a blurry haze of numbing tears. Anne no longer wanted to see him. Ominis wanted to turn him in and she was bruised by her conflicted feelings. He knew it was his fault- that he had gone too far. He had murdered his family. He was fully and completely broken, irreversibly.

“The thing is I think I’ve lost my sister, my twin. Forever. She refuses to even see me. I can’t blame her. I couldn’t really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely.”

Sebastian’s tears mixed with the girl he loved, the weight hanging over him still even as she pulled him closer. He realized he was no longer the boy she fell in love with, the boy anyone loved. He was no longer that golden boy with a heart that shone brighter than the sun. Sebastian was now broken and darkened, full of regret and guilt. His soul was now a mixture of something still faintly, tragically beautiful that only she could see. The red mixed with the blue of his sorrow, indigo. A beautiful melancholy color of quiet aching for healing.

He however only saw destruction. Not a single good thing left in him. There was no trace of the light from before. No sense of beauty.

He saw his hands stained with his own blood, the boy he had been. The boy who lived with hope and light. All that was left was a cold, broken reflection of someone who tried to fix something, not his to fix. Something already fractured beyond repair. The golden boy was gone, he’d also murdered himself.

~~

In the cold silence of Azkaban's cell, he hoped she would forgive him for turning himself in. That she would understand the one thing that he did, that everyone else did. His heart would never be gold again. He had shattered that part of himself forever. He’d completely lost himself.

Impure gold loses its value, its purity. And its color dims.

No one wants something that is less.

No one would want him.

Sebastian closed his eyes as they came for him. Knowing they would drain away every happy moment of his existence.

But it was okay.

He was dead anyway.

~~

“And I used to shine bright like gold,

Now I’m all indigo.

My colors are darker and cold.

I think it’s time that I went home.

And I don’t understand why I always feel

Dead and alone….”

[dollwhite]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

Siren reader

Made by Dolling

Ps this was rushes at the least minute pls read my note at the end!!

Ok so imagine siren reader walking home from the grocery store? Right and like it’s the middle of the night crmnals and crooks r out. So siren reader is just walking with 2-3 bags filled with snacks and junk food when all of a sudden the young boy wonder jumps down infant of reader.

And gos like “Miss.. r you ok?”

AND you’re like “Oh yeah dude my days been great!” Because yeah u eat men but that doesn’t mean u have to be a villain. Like your just trying to live your life , ur taking a break from music, ur not really on social media anymore. Overall everything’s been good.

“Oh um well it’s a villain attack so I think u should go inside.”

That.. wasn’t what you were expecting?.. I mean you weren’t expecting a vigilante to drop down and ask u if you were ok in the first place. But it made you think?

What do you think about vigilantes.? You don’t hate them….. no but you don’t like them either. But this one? What was his name?.. Red Robin yeah that’s it Red Robin.

He could maybe change your mind about that, who ever is rising him their rising him right. But eh not really having a kid that looks no older than 16-17 fight villains like Joker and Bene weren’t good parenting choices. But what would you know? You didn’t have ANY kids or pets for that matter.

So you wouldn’t know anything about parenting but one thing you do know is that if you ever have a kid you wouldn’t want them fighting villains in their teenage years, that’s even worse than them going out partying or drinking.

“Oh would you look at the time, sorry kid I would love to stay and chat but I have to get home! Stay safe though.!!” You shouted, time passed quickly and before you even realized it had been 15 minutes. The trip to the store was only supposed to take at most 8 minutes, as you only like 3 minutes from the store.

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤

Bruce is going to kill him.. and that’s if the others don’t get to him first.

Tim doesn’t know why but… he was just drawn to you… but could you really blame him? Seeing someone carrying groceries bags in the middle of a big villain attack, wasn’t an every day thing. Maybe it was the way you just seemed to not care about your surroundings.

Or the fact that you were the only one not running indoors, trying to find shelter. Also the fact that your bags were fuller with junk food.

Shit what time is it? Before you run off Tim could have sworn you said something about it having been 15 minutes?? He hopes you read the time wrong.. because if you didn’t than Bruce was going to kill him.

He should start going, any minute now and the coms are going to be filled with them asking what’s taking him so long. He should get going now, when all of this is over. He’s going to look into you look about 21-24 You didn’t look that much older than him maybe more around Jason’s age or Dicks.

Nah you couldn’t be Jason’s age, When Jason died Tim research his class. And Tim never forgets a face if you were in Jason’s old class or school he would have recognized you at lest.

Maybe you’re younger than Jason? Maybe a year or two. Oh look his back at the manner….. in the cave.

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝

It was a good thing you were friends with ivy, if not?…. Your Condo would have been boomed a while ago. It was a crazy day to be a ‘hero’ glad you aren’t one. Your not a villain either

Your just a woman that eats men..

Today was chaotic to say the least. Five different villains had teamed up to take down the hero’s. This was not what you were expecting when moving toGotham, maybe you should go back to star city or just somewhere. You chose Gotham because wellll… it’s a shity place with shity people.

Mostly Man but, it was a lot easier getting man to follow you. All you had to really do was go to a club or bar and just take them to the back.

Hiii so Dolling here I just wanted to say this is kinda short notice because my internet is down, and idk when my mom is going to pay the bill. So ima just try and finish most of my drafts on google docs. And when I’m around internet I will post them! Reblogs and likes are always appreciated!! Also I think I’m going to change my theme every two/month AND my top follower at that time will be able to choose the theme!!

Or should I do a poll with 3 different themes and the one that wins will be the heme for that month, and the one that was close to winning will be my theme for the next month? U guys can pick between those two options!

Love you all

Dolling shining out 💗

[leilasmom]

𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 1)

pairing: stalker!jake x reader (f)

synopsis: It all started when you met Jake Sim—the campus golden boy everyone adored. Charming, new, and impossible to resist, you quickly become his obsession. But as you fall deeper into his world, you realize the person you're falling for isn’t who he appears to be. And soon, you're trapped in a game you never agreed to play.

warnings: stalking, brief kissing in public, big tit reader, jake is kinda weird, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), light manipulation(?), part 1 is really not that bad tho, lmk if there are any more!

word count: 10.6k

author's note: so like i kinda hate this ㅠㅠ and i wasnt gonna make it into separate parts but i just wanna test the waters with this and see how much attention this will get first if that makes sense. also first time actually writing smut so idk if it sounds awkward, but pls give me any criticism you think needed! ty >.<

part 2 release date: tbd

now playing: mind games by sickick

It all started when you met Jake Sim. He was the campus guy—popular with the girls, adored by the professors, the kind of person everyone gravitated towards, but still had the kind, innocent, and nerdy element to him. If there was a charity event, Jake was organizing it. If someone had tech problems, Jake was fixing them. He had this effortless way of making you feel like you were the center of the world when he spoke to you.

You weren't immune to it, either. As a new freshman, you’d heard his name long before you met him. So when you found yourself at a party a month into your first semester trying not to look out of place, Jake was the last person you expected to notice you.

You weren’t even supposed to be at that party. Crowded rooms filled with loud music and drunk strangers weren’t exactly your thing, but your new friend/roommate Ava insisted. She was the kind of girl who thrived in any social setting, the life of the party, effortlessly magnetic, something you learned the first day you moved into your dorm. With her status as an upperclassman, she knew everyone worth knowing and had declared that you had to go to the “first party of the year” because it was “going to be epic.” So, naturally, she dragged you along.

Now you were nursing a watered-down drink in the corner of a house that smelled like cheap beer and vanilla-scented candles. Ava stood beside you, casually pointing out all the people she deemed “important”—guys and girls she seemed to have endless stories about, whether those memories were good, bad, or in between.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, nudging you with her elbow. “That’s Jake Sim over there. Real nice guy, everybody loves him.” 

You followed her gaze across the room. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to a group of people who seemed completely captivated by whatever he was saying. Even from a distance, it was easy to see why. He had that kind of face—sharp jawline, warm smile, the perfect amount of confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark hair pushed back slightly over his forehead, like it had been styled that way on purpose. 

You nodded without saying anything.

“You know,” Ava smirked, “I feel like he’s been eyeing you across the room for a while.” 

You blinked, startled. “No he hasn’t.”

“Oh, he has. He’s doing that thing guys do where they pretend to listen to the conversation but keep glancing at you like you’re the main event.”

And who’s to say you weren’t the main event? Sure, this was your first official college party and the atmosphere felt a little out of your comfort zone, but it’s not like you spent your whole life as some awkward wallflower. You’re hot and you have what it takes to make men gawk and stop to stare at you on the streets. Even if you were oblivious about it. Even if you didn’t care. Plus you were a new, young face to the campus. And what do college boys with raging hormones love more than some new, hot, fresh meat?

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off. I mean, yeah, Jake was cute, but you weren’t going to entertain the idea of him eye fucking you across the room from your very tipsy friend who definitely should take it slow with the alcohol. You came here to accompany your friend, not for some popular boy. And that’s what you were going to do. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You couldn’t help sneaking another glance in his direction. Sure enough, his eyes met yours for probably the hundredth time that night. Your breath caught for half a second as he smiled. Not a quick, polite one, but the kind of cocky and sly smile that made it seem like he knew something you didn’t.

“See?” Ava whispered, “Told you.” Before you could argue, Jake excused himself from his group of drunk friends and started making his way towards you. Your instinct was to bolt, but Ava was quick to grab your arm, holding you in place. “Oh my god, he’s coming over here.”

“Shut up. Don’t make it weird,” you hissed under your breath.

“Me? Never,” she said, but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story.

Jake stopped a few feet away, holding a red solo cup in one hand, the other casually tucked into his pocket. “Hey,” he said, his voice so smooth but unassuming that for a second you didn’t know if he was talking to you or Ava, until his eyes eventually met yours. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jake.”

You hesitated for a moment, your throat dry. But Ava on the other hand, ever the social butterfly, was already beaming with her response. “This is _____. She’s a freshman. And she’s my new roomie.” 

“Ah, Jake said, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Freshie huh? Welcome to the chaos. If you ever need a hand settling in, don’t hesitate to ask. I know Ava over here wasn’t exactly the most put-together during her freshman year,” he playfully teased.

Ava rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” she replied in defeat. You could tell they shared some history together, though the details weren’t something you cared to uncover at the moment.

You shook his hand, feeling his strong grip and his overwhelming gaze. “Thanks,” you managed to mumble, your voice quieter than you intended.

Ava, clearly delighted, nudged you again before stepping back. “I’m going to find another drink. You two have fun.” She shot you a not so discreet wink, one Jake clearly noticed. He responded with a low, undeniably attractive chuckle that stirred something inside you, something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling. 

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you alone with him.

Jake tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you want to fidget. “So, what do you think of the party?” 

“It’s… loud.” 

He chuckled and you awkwardly laughed in return. “Yeah, not really my scene either,” he admitted. “I was actually about to head out. Want to join me? I know a quieter place where we can talk.” 

You hesitated, something about his directness caught you off guard. You’d been in similar situations like this before—situations where boys had tried to talk you into following them to their rooms and the like. Now, you weren’t inexperienced when it came to men, but a one night stand with someone you’ve been conversing with for about 45 seconds didn’t seem like something you were interested in at the moment. But that wasn’t what Jake was implying. You could tell he wasn’t like other guys in the past, the ones who were all too eager to make their intentions clear. There was something different about the way he carried himself. 

And something different, there definitely was. But we’ll get to that part later.

Jake was patiently waiting for your response while you contemplated. You looked up at him and he smiled again, that disarming, perfect smile, and for a moment, you forgot why you were even questioning it. 

“Sure,” you replied, not realizing then that this was the moment that everything in your life would change. 

------------------------------

“So,” you asked, glancing out the window at the quiet streets passing by, “where are we?”

Jake gave you a sideways glance, his hand relaxed on the wheel. “Just a spot I like. It’s nice to get away from all the noise sometimes, don’t you think?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, like he already knew you’d agree. 

You nodded, leaning back in your seat. “Yeah, I guess.” The party had been a bit much for your taste, and the idea of some quiet didn’t sound half bad. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, I usually only bring people I actually want to talk to.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked down at your hands, fumbling with the hem of your dress. “Well, that’s nice of you.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s not about being nice. You just seemed different. Thought it might be worth getting to know you better.” 

His words caught you off guard, not knowing whether to take it as a compliment or not, but the way he said them felt so genuine, so effortlessly charming, that you couldn’t help but smile. “Different how?”

He shrugged, his eyes flickering to you briefly before returning to the road. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re not trying too hard, you’re just… you. It’s refreshing.”

Even though it sounded so cliché, he wasn’t lying. It’s not like you were trying to be different. I mean, it wasn’t hard for someone like you to stand out from a crowd of drunk girls, definitely trusting their tiny tops and micro shorts way more than they should, especially at a college party, basking in the attention of young, hungry men. But maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe they want the recognition, the attention. You don’t. Not because you couldn’t pull it off—you could—but you didn’t care to. You weren’t there for the feeling of lingering eyes on you, and that was obvious to anyone paying close enough attention. And Jake paid attention. Oh, he did for sure. The moment you walked in the room, he noticed the way you carried yourself, not chasing the spotlight like others. And also mostly because you weren’t trying to whore yourself out at every given moment like everyone else, girl or guy. But it intrigued him, igniting a flicker of curiosity and a peculiar intent that he’d never felt before in the back of his mind. 

You let out a soft laugh, unsure of how to respond. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Don’t mention it.” 

As the car slowed and he turned down a quiet street, you realized you weren’t sure where you were, but the thought barely lingered. Something about the way he spoke made it hard to think too much. It felt easy, almost natural, to trust him. And that was the scariest part.

------------------------------

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you even had a chance to set your bag down, Ava was already perched on her bed, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“So,” she grinned, tucking her legs under her, “how was it?”

“How was what?” you asked, feigning oblivion as you drop your bag onto your chair.

Your roommate groaned dramatically, sitting up straighter on her bed. “The date! You leave me in the middle of a party that you were supposed to be my date for, with the most popular guy on campus!”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “It wasn’t a date. We just… hung out.” You tried your best to sound indifferent, but Ava was already grinning.

“Whatever it was, tell me!” she demanded, practically bouncing on her bed.

“It was... nice,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you kicked off your shoes.

“Nice? That’s all I’m getting? Did you guys talk? Do anything?”

“No, we didn’t do anything. And I didn’t want to anyway. He was very respectful.”

“Of course he was,” Ava said, throwing her hands up like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, it’s Jake we’re talking about here. The guy’s practically perfect. Teachers love him, girls worship him, and he still manages to have this whole humble, good-guy image.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Exactly. Nothing shocking there.”

“Still, I just had a feeling he’d be different with you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at her. “Different? Why?”

“Because I’ve seen how he is with other girls. Trust me, they throw themselves at him all the time, and he’s always so polite about it, but he never seems interested. He doesn’t make the first move. Ever.” She shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “But tonight? He came straight for you.”

You shrugged back, brushing her comment off with a small laugh. “I think you’re reading too much into it. He was just being nice.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push further. And you? You kept brushing it off, like you always did.

------------------------------

As you walked back into your shared room after your nightly shower and routine in the bathroom, you glanced over at Ava. “Hey, by the way… what did Jake mean earlier? You know, when he said you ‘weren’t the most put-together’ during your freshman year?”

She just snorts, clearly unbothered by the memory. “Oh, that. Yeah, I was kind of a hot mess back then. Partied a lot, made some questionable choices. But, hey, isn’t that what college is for?”

You chuckled. Makes complete sense, honestly. “I was just curious. For a second, I thought maybe you two had a thing or something.”

“A thing? Well… kind of.”

Your head snapped up.

She shrugged casually, like she was recounting a minor detail. “There was this one party my freshman year. We were playing spin the bottle, and it landed on Jake. So, yeah, we kissed. Or, well, made out. But only once.”

You blinked, not sure how to respond. “Oh. Uh, okay.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, I swear. It was years ago, and neither of us cared enough to make it weird. It’s not like it’s awkward or anything now. We don’t even bring it up.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process the new information. “Got it. Not jealous or anything,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, though the thought does linger for a second. It’s not like you had any claims on Jake, but… still.

“Good. Because honestly, you and Jake? Totally different vibe. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your water bottle to avoid letting the conversation stretch any further.

------------------------------

A few days later, Jake was leaned back against the couch in his apartment, a half-empty can of soda resting loosely in his hand. His friends were scattered across the room, voices bouncing off the walls as they talked about the usual—classes, campus drama, upcoming events—but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“So, what’s with you?” Jay, his closest friend, asked, nudging him with his foot from across the coffee table.

Jake blinked, realizing he’d been quiet for too long. “What?”

“You’ve been zoning out for the past five minutes. Let me guess, girl troubles?”

That got the attention of the others. “Girl troubles? Jake Sim?” Sunghoon chimed in, laughing. “Yeah, right.”

Jake shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant, but the small, almost imperceptible grin tugging at his lips gave him away. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s totally like that,” Jay teased. “C’mon, spill.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Her name’s _____. I met her at that party the other night.”

“Wait, the one you ditched us for?” 

Jake just chuckled and nodded, his gaze dropping to the can in his hand. “Yeah. Her.”

Then Jay let out a low whistle. “Damn, guess I never expected you to be the one to take the lead for once.”

“It’s not about that,” Jake said quickly. “She’s just different. She doesn’t try to stand out, but she does. I don’t know, man. She’s—” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a faint chuckle. “Forget it.”

“No, no, keep going,” Sunghoon pressed, leaning forward. “You’re actually into her, aren’t you?”

Jake didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tensed and his eyes flicked away said enough.

“Wow, well, I mean, good for you, dude. She’s gorgeous. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the guys on campus are already trying to get her attention.” Jay implied. 

That comment sent an unexpected pang through Jake’s chest. He tried to brush it off, but the thought lingered, other guys noticing you, talking to you, maybe even flirting with you.

“She doesn’t seem like the type to fall for just anyone,” Jake said, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. 

“True,” Sunghoon agreed. “But still. She’s new, she’s pretty, and she’s got that whole ‘mystery girl’ vibe going on. Trust me, people are going to notice her.”

Jake forced a laugh, but the unease was already settling in the back of his mind. You didn’t seem like the type to entertain random guys, but the idea of someone else getting too close to you didn’t sit right with him.

The thought stayed with him long after his friends had moved on to another topic. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. It was just concern. You were new to campus, probably still finding your footing, and he didn’t want anyone to take advantage of that.

He told himself it was harmless as the idea began to form in his mind. Just checking in on you, making sure you were okay. Not in an overbearing way, of course. You wouldn’t even know. It was just the right thing to do.

And if it gave him peace of mind? Well, that was just a bonus.

That night, Jake sat hunched in front of his glowing PC screen, the only light in his room casting long shadows across his walls. His fingers hovered over the keyboard with an eager sort of precision, scrolling through page after page. What was he looking for? You. Only you.

It wasn’t like him, spending hours like this, completely absorbed in something he couldn’t explain. But there was something about you that was different. Like an itch he couldn’t ignore, let alone resist scratching.

Finding your Instagram hadn’t taken long. A couple of clicks here, a mutual tag there, and suddenly your whole world was laid out before him. Your name. Your face. Your posts. From there, it was a rabbit hole he couldn’t help but dive into. Facebook? Found it. Tumblr? Found it. Pinterest? Of course. Each new profile unlocked a little piece of you, a puzzle he was determined to solve.

Hours passed, and Jake found himself digging deeper, further back into your life than he had any business going. He paused on a blurry group photo from high school, his eyes immediately locking onto you. Awkward braces, a side ponytail, and a shy smile that tugged at something strange in his chest. He chuckled softly to himself, his lips curving into a grin.

“Cute.”

The realization of how long he’d been doing this emerged at the edge of his mind, but he was quick to brush it off. I mean, who doesn’t do this? Everyone stalks their crush. It’s not weird. It’s normal. He was just curious. That’s all.

And yet, even as he closed out one tab and opened another, Jake couldn’t shake the nagging sense that this wasn’t enough. The photos, the posts, the snippets of your life he was piecing together, they still felt distant, impersonal. He wanted more. Needed more.

His hand hovered over the mouse for a moment before he opened Instagram again, pulling up your most recent story. You were out earlier with a friend, walking with a coffee in hand, the city bustling in the background. It was mundane, ordinary. But to him, it was fascinating. 

You were almost like an unsolved case to him. Every photo, every caption, every comment was a clue, something to dissect and overanalyze. The way you angled your head in selfies, the way you always seemed to wear rings on your right hand. Did that mean something? Maybe it was just a habit, or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know, but the not knowing made him dig deeper. Each little detail was like a breadcrumb leading him further down a path he couldn’t stop following. 

It boosted him. Every new discovery sent a thrill rushing through him, like solving the next piece of a complex puzzle. The high school photos, the forgotten Pinterest boards filled with dreamy quotes and wedding décor. He was piecing together a version of you even you didn’t know you’d left behind.

The rational part of him, however, it was there. Buried somewhere, trying to surface, to remind him that this wasn’t normal, that this wasn’t healthy. But the excitement, the adrenaline of knowing so much about you, drowned it out every time. You were fascinating. You were beautiful. And you didn’t even know it, but by leaving that party with him that one night, you were letting him into your world.

It felt intimate. Special. Like he was uncovering the real you, the one hidden behind the edited photos and casual captions. And Jake? Jake couldn’t get enough.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was late. Too late to still be sitting here. But he didn’t care. You were under his skin now, in his mind, in his every thought.

And he convinced himself, once again, that this was fine. Perfectly fine. He was just looking. There's nothing wrong with looking. 

Right?

He didn’t notice it yet, but he was crossing a line he didn’t realize he was already standing over.

------------------------------

It was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon. You were at the local grocery store, a basket in hand as you roamed the aisles, debating between two different brands of pasta. The store was buzzing with life. Kids whining for candy, parents arguing over coupons, the hum of soft pop music barely audible over the chatter.

You were zoning out, staring at the shelves, when a familiar voice startled you.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

You turned sharply, and there he was. Jake. Dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he looked casual and relaxed, the epitome of “guy next door.”

“Oh. Hey, Jake. What’re you doing here?”

“Grocery shopping, same as you,” he said with a grin. “Though I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to run into you.”

You smiled politely, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, small world.” And it was then that you realized Jake wasn’t holding a basket or a grocery cart at all. You glanced down at your own, practically overflowing with items, while he stood there empty handed. Maybe he had stopped by to grab something quick. 

He glanced at the shelves, his eyes scanning the items before landing back on you. “Pasta night?”

You held up the two boxes in your hands. “Debating between these two. Any recommendations?”

He stepped closer, pretending to study the boxes like it was a life or death decision. “Well, this brand’s sauce clings better,” he said, pointing to one, “but this one’s texture is nicer. Depends on what you’re going for.”

“I didn’t know you were a pasta expert.”

He grinned. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

And for some reason, that stuck with you. You had this feeling that he was being truthful, but not in a good way. Like there was more to that statement than he was letting on, something hidden beneath the surface. A part of you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, but his smile was so convincing, that you pushed the thought aside. Maybe you were overthinking it.

You shook your head, putting one box back and dropping the other into your basket. “Good to know. Maybe next time I’ll consult you for my grocery list.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than felt necessary. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you ended up walking through the aisles together, Jake casually slipping into conversation as if this wasn’t entirely coincidental. He asked you about your week, made jokes about the odd products on the shelves, and even recommended a snack or two that he claimed was “life-changing.”

It was easy to forget the awkwardness at first, Jake was good at that. He made people feel comfortable, like you were the only person in the room, even if it was just a crowded grocery store.

But as the conversation went on, little things started to feel… off.

Like how he seemed to know exactly what aisle you were heading to next, always a step ahead, grabbing things you hadn’t even noticed. Or how he mentioned a specific brand of matcha you liked, something you didn’t recall ever telling him.

Or when you turned to grab a few more things, and you noticed Jake picking up items—fruits, snacks, even the same brand of shampoo you had chosen—things that seemed oddly familiar to what you were already grabbing. You glanced back down at your basket to where you noticed Jake running out of room, even in his big arms, that he had casually started to place some of his items in your basket, almost absentmindedly. 

At first, it was just a few, but then his arms began to overflow with more things. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to be running out of room. His hands were awkwardly balancing a few cans, some fruit, and the bottle of shampoo, all piled up like a small tower. It was kind of cute.

"Uh, you might want to grab a basket," you said, eyeing the growing pile in his arms. "I don’t think you’ll fit everything."

Jake looked down at his arms, then back at you with a slight laugh. “Oh, right. Thanks for the reminder.”

He glanced around awkwardly, like it hadn’t even occurred to him. 

I mean that was kind of weird, right? The thought lingered, but you brushed it off as you continued your shopping. 

And then there was the moment at checkout.

You were unloading your basket onto the conveyor belt when Jake casually reached for the same brand of chocolate you’d grabbed earlier, dropping it into his basket with a small smile.

“What?” he asked when he noticed your raised brow. “You have good taste.”

It was harmless. But the way he casually mirrored your actions, not just then, but from the moment you saw him in the store, you’ve noticed how it seems like he’s not just casually shopping, but actively observing you and somehow always knows what your next move is. 

Maybe you’re just being paranoid. It’s getting late after all, the sun is beginning to set and here you are, with a guy you don’t really know all that well. Of course you’re going to be a little on edge. It’s just womanly instincts.

But as you walked out of the store, bags in hand, and saw him heading in the same direction as you—despite you being certain he lived on the other side of campus—that faint unease crept back in.

“Need help carrying those?” he offered, gesturing to your bags.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Alright. See you around, then.”

And as you started walking away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze lingered just a little too long, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on their prey. It was subtle, but the intensity of his stare made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even as his smile never wavered. You tried to dismiss it, telling yourself it was probably just your imagination running wild. After all, it’s Jake. Everyone loves him.

------------------------------

"So, Jake asked about you," Ava said casually as she applied her mascara, sitting across the room.

"Wait, what?" you asked, sitting up from your bed. It was 7 a.m. in the morning, and you had just been jolted awake by your roommate’s loud music blasting from the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, said something about how he wants to ask you out. Take you on a real nice date. Then end it off with spreading your legs in the back of his car."

You froze, your heart racing in your chest. “Wait, what.”

Your silence was then followed by laughter. "Oh my god! I’m joking!"

You let out a huge sigh of relief, but then you playfully shot her a look. "Ava, do not play with me like that." But honestly, you were kind of serious too.

She shot you a grin, clearly amused. "Oh, come on, you’re so easy to mess with. But seriously, you know you wished I wasn’t joking.”

You rolled your eyes at Ava’s teasing and went back to scrolling on your phone. “Yeah, okay,” you muttered, not giving it much thought.

“He did actually say something about asking you out, though.”

You paused, glancing up at her again. “Are you messing with me?”

She swore up and down, looking completely sincere. “No, I’m telling you the truth. He said he wanted to take you out for a nice date. That’s what he told me.”

“I still don’t buy it.”

“I swear on everything, I’m not lying!” Ava’s voice was insistent now. “So what’s the deal? You gonna go?”

You hesitated, unsure. “I don’t know…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?’” Ava scoffed, clearly frustrated. “Girl, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Every girl wants a night out with Jake. You’d be crazy not to go.”

You chewed on your lip, contemplating her words. It's not that you wouldn't enjoy going out with Jake, it's just that something about him still unsettled you. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there were moments where the way he looked at you, or the way he seemed to know a little too much about you, made you feel like you were under a microscope. It wasn’t overly creepy, but there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t ignore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that you liked his company. He was charming, funny, and his attention was flattering, sometimes even a little intoxicating. But you weren’t sure if it was just his charm that kept you second-guessing those little moments that made you feel off.

“It’s not like that. I mean… he’s nice, and he’s funny, and I enjoy being around him. But, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just feel kind of weird around him. Like, there’s something about him that makes me feel uneasy. It’s like… something’s off.”

Ava tilted her head, unimpressed. “You’re being paranoid. Honestly, I never feel that way around him. He’s always been chill, and I’m sure he’s just trying to make a move on you. Stop second-guessing it, okay?”

You sighed, but Ava wasn’t having it. She was determined to get you to say yes. 

And honestly speaking, a part of you wanted to get to know him more too. He definitely knew how to make a girl laugh, and he was great at contributing to conversations. There was an ease to the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in whatever you had to say. And you couldn't deny that there was a certain chemistry between you two. He was charming, effortlessly so, and that smile of his? It melted you every time.

You were sure he was a great kisser too. I mean, those plump lips of his didn’t look like they lied. They were always so close, so inviting. The thought of it made your pulse quicken a little, despite yourself.

So, why not let yourself live a little? Everyone around you was practically begging you to take the plunge. Ava was begging you to go and she knows him better then you do, so when she means he's no harm, she can't be lying. You could use a night of fun, a little excitement. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. After all, he was just a guy. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong by saying yes, right?

So a few days later, when you saw Jake waiting outside of your class and finally asked you on a date, you had no reason to say no.

------------------------------

So here you were. At the edge of a nice lake surrounded by a cute park. Jake beside you, rambling on about some random topic that, honestly, you weren’t even sure you were fully listening to. He had a way of talking, of keeping the conversation flowing smoothly, making it feel like you were the only two people in the world. His voice was soft, relaxed, and as he gestured with his hands, you couldn’t help but watch the way his muscles flexed under the sleeves of his shirt.

You'd almost forgotten why you were so nervous about meeting up with Jake in the first place. The whole thing felt so natural now, so effortless. His laugh was contagious, his stories engaging, and his presence so easy to enjoy. As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, the worries and uncertainties slipping away.

“So,” you said casually, glancing over at him, “what exactly are you majoring in, by the way?”

Jake smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, as he looked at you with a glint in his eyes. “I’m in engineering. Tech stuff.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but you could tell by his tone that he took pride in it. “It’s all about computers, networks, systems, you know? It comes in pretty handy,” he added with a sly wink.

“Handy?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I mean, you never know when a little extra knowledge can be useful. You’d be surprised at how helpful it is until you need it,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if implying something more, but before you could react, he eventually changed the subject.

You wandered the park, your footsteps light, side by side, as you talked about everything and nothing. The air was crisp and refreshing, and the sounds of the nearby water and chirping birds only added to the peaceful vibe. The awkward tension you'd felt in previous encounters with Jake was now a distant memory.

But as the sky darkened, and the park became quieter, something shifted between the two of you. It wasn’t anything obvious, but there was this electricity in the air that hadn’t been there before. It was like everything had led to this moment.

You both stopped by the water, your shoes crunching against the gravel path as you looked out over the lake. The soft waves lapping at the shore reflected the dimming sky, and for a moment, the world around you felt suspended in time. Jake leaned a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he turned to face you.

"I’m glad we did this," he murmured, his voice soft, almost too sincere.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the summer evening air. "Me too."

And then, without warning, Jake’s hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It was gentle at first, just a soft press of lips, and it shocked you definitely, but you melted into it, letting go of any lingering hesitation. His lips were warm, his touch delicate, and for that brief moment, you forgot about everything—forgot about the nagging thoughts that had been chasing you all day.

But then, suddenly, the kiss deepened. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss turned more urgent, more demanding. His lips were now on yours with an intensity that surprised you, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against him, his body a solid wall against yours. His hand gripped your hips so tight that it sent your mind into a frenzy as he groaned loudly against your lips.

You pulled away for a split second, your heart racing. "Jake... we’re in public," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he kissed you even harder and took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, his hands now reaching further and further down your waist, pulling you towards him. The world around you felt blurry, as if you were floating in a bubble of his touch, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, who you were with—forgot about everything except him.

But then reality came crashing back in seconds. You broke free from the kiss, taking a step back, your breath coming fast. "Jake," you said, voice shaky, "we’re outside. There are other people around." You glanced around nervously, your eyes darting over the now dark park, thankful that no one was nearby but still aware that you were far from alone.

Jake just looked at you, his expression still soft but with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, sorry. I’ve just been really wanting to do that," he said casually, like it was no big deal.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his nonchalance, but you tried to dismiss it, even though a knot formed in your stomach. "Right," you muttered, taking a breath to calm yourself.

For a moment, the air between you both felt charged, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe things were moving faster than you were ready for. But as Jake stepped back with a small grin, his eyes still warm, you felt yourself ease back into the moment, convincing yourself it was just him being... well, Jake. Charming, spontaneous, and maybe a little bit too eager.

So, when he grabbed you by the arm with a playful grin and said, “Come on, I know this great dessert place,” practically dragging you along with him, you told yourself this was just Jake’s way of showing he cared. You told yourself there was no harm in it. Jake was just spirited, maybe a little intense, but in a charming way. That’s all it was.

The rest of the night went smoothly enough, or at least it seemed like it. You talked and laughed some more, and by the time Jake dropped you off in front of your dorm, you found yourself in a bit of a daze. The streetlights cast long shadows, but all you could focus on was the lingering feeling from earlier. The kiss—the intensity of it, the way he didn’t seem to care about where he was or who might see. You’d been caught up in the moment, but now that it was over, that uneasy knot was back in your stomach.

"Thanks for tonight," you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Jake turned to look at you, his eyes soft, almost too sincere. "Anytime. Let me know when you want to do this again."

"Yeah, I will." You hesitated for a second, unsure if you should say more, but then the words just seemed to evaporate. Instead, you opened the door, stepping out and giving him a small wave as you walked up to your apartment.

As you entered the building, your thoughts kept circling back to that kiss, to his lack of concern about where you were or who might be watching. You’d had fun, no doubt, but there was a part of you that couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, telling yourself you were overthinking it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just that kind of guy. But the unease in your chest only grew heavier as you walked to your room, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were starting to see him for who he really was.

------------------------------

You and Jake had started hanging out more and more after that date, and you couldn't deny it, you were falling for him more than you expected. Sure, sometimes he did stuff that made you question things, but he wasn’t perfect. So what?

Today, you were studying for some upcoming exams at the school library. The space was quiet, and even though you were focused on your work, you enjoyed having him there. Jake had brought you both coffee and snacks, and the atmosphere felt warm and cozy. You were sitting across from each other, the constant clicking of keyboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. It was a perfect setting, relaxed, comfortable, and you found his presence quite calming. It only felt natural.

“One sec, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom,” you announced, getting up from your chair.

Jake didn’t say anything and just nodded, his eyes still glued to his screen, focused on whatever was on his laptop. But as soon as your back was turned and you were walking away, Jake’s attention shifted.

His eyes landed on your bag, which was slung over the back of the chair next to where you were just sitting a few moments ago. The handle of your tote peeked out from the side, and something shiny caught his eye. It was your keyring. The familiar silver glint of your room key sat half-hidden inside your bag. You must’ve forgotten to tuck it deeper, but it was unmistakable.

Jake’s gaze lingered on it for a moment longer than usual. He looked around, ensuring no one was watching, before reaching over with careful fingers. The motion was almost imperceptible, but he slid the key out of your bag, letting them rest lightly in his palm. He checked the surrounding area once again. No one was looking.

His pulse quickened just a little, the thrill of the action sinking in. You were gone, out of sight, leaving him with this small window of opportunity.

He looked at the keys. They weren’t just any keys—they were a way in. 

Jake sat there for a moment, the keys tucked securely in his pocket, a sense of satisfaction bubbling in his chest. He knew it was a little risky, but it was too perfect to pass up.

He glanced around again, making sure no one had seen. This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision—he’d considered this before, the idea quietly simmering in the back of his mind.

He’d thought about sneaking into your room before, just out of curiosity (or so he told himself). But he never quite figured out how he’d do it without raising suspicion. The idea had first occurred to him a while back when he submitted a 3D-printed model of a robot for his tech project. It wasn’t just a cool demonstration of precision, it was proof of how easy it would be to replicate almost anything if he had the right dimensions.

Now, with your keys in his possession, that idle thought from a while ago clicked into place. The perfect way to turn a passing fantasy into something tangible.

It wasn’t like it would be hard to replicate the keys. After all, he was an engineering major. He had the skills. The tools. The knowledge. With the advanced tech available to him, specifically his access to the 3D printers in the lab, replicating those keys would be a breeze. The thought was almost laughable. No one would be the wiser. 

The more he thought about it, the more the plan excited him. He could “find” the real key after he made the spare, casually give it back to you later, and look like the hero. The savior. You’d think he was just looking out for you, a kind guy who happened to stumble across your lost key. The hero who went the extra mile to return something precious. 

And you’d never know he’d taken it in the first place. Hell, you might even think it was a sweet gesture.

A small, almost smug smile crept onto his face as he imagined it. He liked the idea of being the guy who could fix everything for you, who could always be the one to make things right. In your eyes, he'd be the one who cared, who was always there for you, just the kind of guy you'd want to be with.

The plan felt so natural, so flawless. He didn’t even feel guilty. It was for you, after all. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. Just helping you out in the best way possible. It would only bring him closer to you, make you appreciate him even more. 

You came back from the bathroom a few minutes later, the library air still cool and comforting as you settled back into your seat. Lost in your own thoughts, you picked up where you left off in your study notes. The soft clicking of your laptop keys and the rustling of paper were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jake. It wasn’t until you stood up to gather your things, ready to head out, that you noticed something was off.

You dug through your bag, feeling around for your keys, the ones you’d left in there earlier. But they weren’t there.

You froze for a second, your eyes scanning the table and the chair you’d been sitting in. It was only then that you realized they weren’t in your bag at all.

“What?” you muttered, frowning as you scanned the surface of the table. “Where did I put my keys? Jake, have you seen them?”

He was already standing up and grabbing his things by the time, pausing for a second and giving you a slight shrug. “No, haven’t seen them,” he said, as he put on his best “confused” face, sounding completely genuine. “You’re sure you put them in there?”

You nodded, trying not to panic. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Well, if they’re not in your bag, maybe you forgot to bring them. They’re probably somewhere in your room still. I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

There was a little panic in your voice as you started to shuffle through your things. “But I could’ve sworn I left them right here…”

“You don’t have a backup key or something?”

You sighed, realizing you hadn’t thought this through. “No. It’s fine though, Ava’s home. She can let me in. I’ll just buy a new one later.”

Jake smiled a little wider, his mind already running through possibilities, but he kept his tone light. “Alright, guess that works.”

You still seemed a little confused, but the moment passed. You dropped the subject and started talking about something else while you two were getting ready to leave. But Jake could tell—you were distracted now, just a little bit. He’d planted the seed. Maybe you’d brush it off, or maybe you wouldn’t. Either way, he was confident it would only matter if he wanted it to. 

When you both walked out of the library building, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus, Jake slipped his bag over his shoulder and turned to you with an easy smile.

“So, I think I’m going to head home and get some rest,” Jake said.

You nodded, still rummaging through your bag, trying to keep your mind off the missing keys. “Yeah, same. I’ll probably head home too.”

"Sure thing. Have a good night."

“Night.”

Then you walked away, completely unaware of the keys now nestled in his pocket, Jake’s expression shifted. That easygoing smile lingered, but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a focus. He wasn’t heading home, not yet, anyway.

Instead, he made his way across campus to the engineering building. The hallways were mostly empty at this hour, the hum of the fluorescent lights echoing faintly. Jake swiped his student ID at the lab room door, stepping inside to the familiar scent of metal and machinery. The quiet whir of the 3D printers waiting in the corner greeted him, and he felt a surge of anticipation.

Pulling your keys out of his pocket, he set them down on the workstation. His fingers worked intently with great focus as he measured and scanned the key, inputting the data into the design software. The model on the screen was precise, the ridges and cuts an exact match to the original.

As the printer came to life, Jake leaned back in his chair, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. By the time the printer finished its work, the replica key was indistinguishable from the original. Jake inspected it carefully, his mind already running through how he’d “find” your keys and return them to you, playing the part of the helpful friend. You’d never suspect a thing.

Pocketing both the original and the replica, Jake left the lab, the grin still lingering on his face as he made his way home. 

------------------------------

The next day, Jake managed to find you after class. “Hey, look what I found at the bottom of my laptop bag,” he said, holding up your keys with a triumphant smile.

Your eyes lit up as you recognized them. “Oh my god, no way.”

“Yeah, guess you must’ve accidentally dropped them into my bag instead of yours. Good thing I noticed before it got buried under all my stuff.”

You let out a relieved sigh, taking the keys from him. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver. I was about to go buy a new one.”

Jake chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, glad I could spare you the hassle. So… are you free today? Thought maybe we could grab some food or something.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Oh, sorry. Me and Ava already made plans. We’re going shopping downtown, actually.”

For a brief second, Jake’s expression faltered, feeling disappointed. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, no worries. You two have fun.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added, “What time are you heading out? Just curious.”

“Uh, probably around noon,” you said, shrugging. 

“I see. Cool. Anyway, have fun. Maybe we can hang out later this week.”

You smiled and nodded before heading off, completely unaware of the shift in Jake’s demeanor as you walked away. If you were going to be gone for hours, that left him with the perfect opportunity.

------------------------------

Jake’s heart raced as he stood in front of your door. This was it. He had thought about this moment so many times in his mind, playing out every detail, and now, with your absence leaving him a window of opportunity, he was finally here. He double and triple checked the address that he dug for for hours online and made sure he was at the right place. Now, he couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement mixed with a strange sense of calm. It was a risk for sure, he knew that, but for some reason, the thought of being in your space, of having access to the things that were uniquely yours, felt almost...right.

You had just left with Ava, heading to the subway station. He knew because he was watching. He had to be sure you were completely gone before he made any moves. But now, he could finally do what he had been waiting to do for so long. 

Slowly, he pulled the replica key from his pocket, his fingers trembling with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He aligned it with the lock and turned it, the soft click echoing in the silence. It was almost euphoric. The moment his ears caught the sound, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The sound of success, of having everything perfectly fall into place.

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn’t place why. Was it the thrill of it all, the forbidden nature of what he was doing, or just the satisfaction of knowing he had outsmarted you? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his body was finally moving, his heart pounding as he pushed the door open ever so slowly, just a crack. Then the gap widened just a bit until it fully swung open, and it revealed your shared apartment, the space you inhabited. His eyes scanned the layout, taking in the unfamiliar sights, the small and intimate details that made this place unmistakably yours.

It was small but cozy, with a cluttered bookshelf lining one wall and a comfy couch facing a tv. A coffee table sat in the middle, a few magazines scattered on top, and beside it, a worn-out rug that had clearly seen better days. The kitchen area was visible in the corner, neat but not pristine, just lived in enough to feel real. He could see the faint light coming in from the windows, the sun still high, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. And then, one of the bedroom doors was slightly ajar—he couldn't help but notice it. Could that door be yours?

Just the thought of going into your room made the region below in his pants twitch. But he could get to that in a moment.

He stood frozen, his gaze sweeping across your private sanctuary. He could hardly believe it. This was your space, your life, and he had made it.

His thoughts swirled in a hazy mix of excitement, guilt, and something darker. He knew he had to move quickly. You’d be back before long. So, he manned up and finally took a step inside. His feet felt heavy, like they were sinking into the floor as he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Jake froze again. The weight of what he’d just done settled on him in that brief moment of stillness. But then, just as quickly, the urge to explore, to be a part of your world, surged forward. He stepped further into the living room, his hand brushing along the arm of your couch, lingering as though he could feel the traces of you still there.

He looked around, breathing in the air, and a small smile tugged at his lips. This was his opportunity. This was his chance to get even closer to you, to understand you in ways you’d never suspect. He wanted to leave his mark here, in this space where you were supposed to feel safe and in control.

His eyes drifted to the small table beside the window, a few personal items scattered across it. There he saw some books you had mentioned reading in past conversations with him.

He looked even further. Soft blankets littered the couch as Jake bent down to smell them. Some didn’t smell like you, him inferring they were mostly used by Ava. But the others smelled so strong he felt like you were practically there beside him. He spent a good while just inhaling the aroma of you, reminiscing the scent, until he finally snapped out of it. 

Jake’s gaze shifted toward the bedroom doors again, but this time he didn’t linger. He hastily made his way over to them. There were two doors across from each other, and Jake’s heart picked up speed as he walked toward the one on the right. He opened it slowly, his breath catching as he stepped inside. The room felt familiar, but not quite right. He scanned the walls, noting the framed photos of Ava and a few other girls, laughing and posing together, but no sign of you. The realization hit him: this wasn’t your room.

Without hesitation, he moved to the door on the left, his mind racing with anticipation. As he pushed it open, a wave of relief washed over him. This was it. This was the space that had been calling to him in the back of his mind, the space that felt like it was meant to be his, even though he hadn't been invited.

Your room.

The first thing he noticed was the soft glow from a string of fairy lights hanging across the ceiling. The room was cozy, warm, comforting, even. A faint scent of pumpkin spice lingered in the air, almost like it was designed just for you. His gaze swept across the space, taking in the details with a sharp, almost clinical eye. There was a bed pushed against the far wall, with a soft, pastel comforter neatly arranged, and a small desk cluttered with books, papers, and a laptop. He rummaged through them, but was careful enough not to make it seem like your stuff was being messed with. There were assignments, drawings you made, and a few other things, but ultimately, he started to get uninterested.

So he got up and delved further into your room, heart hammering in his chest, as he moved to your dresser, glancing at the things you had left behind—lip balm, a few stray earrings, a bottle of perfume. His fingers lingered over the objects, each one feeling like a piece of you that he could claim.

Jake could feel the weight of it—the tension, the thrill—this was more than just curiosity now. This was ownership. It was like stepping into your world and realizing, for the first time, that he could be a part of it in ways no one else could. No one else was here. No one else had access like he did. 

He opened every single drawer of your dresser, inspecting every single article of clothing you owned. Including the ones he’d seen you wear frequently and ones you’ve seemingly barely touched. He noted your dark grey hoodie that you seemed to live in basically, but also noticed your more scandalous and sexy pieces, wondering why you never put those on for him in the past? One by one, he searched through your dresser from top to bottom. Then he reached the last and final drawer and as he was sliding it open, it never dawned on him what clothes it would occupy until it was fully opened.

Panties. Tons and tons of panties.

Jake froze.

He just sat there, staring.

And staring.

And staring.

But as much as he enjoyed looking, he was eventually slowly reaching in the pile of stacked underwear and grabbing as many as he could.

He brought them up to his face, inhaling the foreign scents of your undergarments. These were obviously your clean pile, but Jake was so focused on what he possessed in the moment, he didn't seem to care. But then, a familiar throbbing in his jeans began to emerge at this point, however, he was still too focused on the many pieces of fabric in full display right below his very own eyes. He then began to look around more. He noticed most of them were thongs. Some cotton, some laced. Some had cute patterns on them; bows, for example. And some were more mature, with dark red or black lacy fabric.

There were bras too. He didn't ignore those.

Now, one thing about you is that you know how to cover yourself up, especially in the upcoming colder seasons. So, when Jake saw your bras tucked away in the back of the drawer and pulled one out, you could say he was shocked at the least, to see it was pretty much big enough to be at least a C cup.

This realization made his cock even more excited, now to the point where he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Jake then immediately unbuckled his jeans as fast as he could, ripping off the buttons in seconds, until he shoved his pants down, right under his ass where he could finally access his poor, frustrated dick, in desperate need of attention.

He pulled it out of his boxer briefs in haste and groaned at the sight. It was red. Angry red, and bulging out in full length already, right in front of him. He gripped it tightly and let out a hiss in pain. But it was a good pain.

His eyes trailed down from the bottom all the way to the top, noticing his veins protruding out even more than they usually do.

Sure, he's jerked off to the thought of you (or pictures of you) countless times before. But now, that he's here—in your room—with full and complete access to your bras and panties, his dick simply just can't take it.

But it will. Jake needs it to.

So, he started moving his hand up and down slowly at first, getting used to this new uncomfortable feeling, until his cock finally calmed down. Jake threw his head back, eyes shutting tight, mouth open in a silent moan. He tried imagining in his head what you would like wearing just your bra and panties. What would you wear for the first time with him? Would you put on something sexy and alluring? Or would you go more cute and innocent? All the thoughts were turning him on too much.

He looked back down at your drawer and spotted a laced baby pink thong peeking out through the bottom of the pile. With no hesitation, Jake immediately grabbed it, looping it onto his dick while he continued to jerk himself off.

The now added friction of the cloth made his cock even harder at this point, which he didn't know was even possible. But after minutes (that seemed like hours), his hand began to grow tired and cramped up, trying so had to release, yet subconsciously edging himself every time he was about to. With a groan full of exhaustion, he momentarily stopped, giving his hand a quick break. He let out a short gasp of air, panting with adrenaline.

But when he glanced down to his still very hard and throbbing cock with your cute little panties wrapped around it, he grabbed it again, this time even harsher.

"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, frustrated, with furrowed eyebrows. He shut his eyes tight again, imagining himself pounding into your tiny little cunt. He wondered if you wouldn't be able to take it—the thought of you struggling to fit it in all the way. He liked that idea a lot. He would kiss your forehead, tell you he would go slow. And then he would ram himself into you, giving you no time to adjust.

But then he wondered if maybe you'd surprise him, and turn out to be a cock slut, riding it so well, like a beast. He groaned at the thought of it, speeding up his hand even more, gripping his cock even harder. The idea of you bouncing relentlessly, not giving his dick a break until he came inside of you, which sounded just too good to be true. Would you grab your big ass tits and squeeze them right in front of his face? Would they bounce uncontrollably as you rode him like there was no tomorrow?

"Yeah, just like that. Don't stop," he basically whispered to himself in bliss, his imagination getting the best of him. "Fuck, I'm so close baby," he whimpered.

And just like that, he was coming undone. Right then and there, unleashing his load onto your carpeted floor with seemingly, no care in the world.

He laid there, panting out of exhaustion. After he caught his breath, he smiled to himself, a dark, satisfied grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

He could hear the faint sound of traffic outside, the world continuing without a clue about what he was doing inside these walls. His fingers traced over your cum filled panties once more, and grabbing more from your drawer, each item feeling like a new possibility—a piece of you he could add to his collection.

For a moment, he couldn't shake the feeling of victory. It was as if the world was his, and everything he'd been waiting for was finally within his grasp.

But just as the saying goes, good things never last. And just as quickly as the euphoria had flooded him, the sound of your front door squeaking open shattered the calm, and his eyes widened in fear.

[the-broken-pen]

Hi! I love love LOVE your writing so much!!!❤️❤️(it’s the only thing sometimes that can help me reorient myself when life sucks)-

Idk if you’ve already written a work like this- but could you write about a villain who fakes being in a relationship with hero to get information. Hero absolutely loves them and thinks that they can finally be happy….but then Villain breaks their heart- while saying they never loved them and that it was all a lie.

and then later on Villain regrets it and realizes they are actually obsessed with hero and go full psycho?

The hero had spent their childhood watching as their parents fought viciously with one another. Slamming doors and breaking plates, and then sullen, withdrawn and nearly silent conversations illuminated only by the dying lamp in the corner of the living room. Whatever the hero’s parents had, it wasn’t love, and never would be. The hero had no way of knowing if it ever had been. 

And then the hero had watched as time after time, their sister loved someone with her whole heart and was left shattered on the hero’s doorstep at the end of it. Fairytales that ended with no happy ending, ripped up love notes and a hundred playlists made for people their sister could no longer bear to name out loud.

The hero had watched their entire family reach for love and fall flat every time, and had resigned themself to a fate of the kind of heartbreak you cannot escape. The kind that hangs over heads like a cloud and fogs mirrors.

And then–

The villain. The hero had met the villain, and the villain had smiled, and they thought maybe, just maybe, they had beaten the curse. That they were meant for the soft kind of love they had only imagined when they were young, before the pain of it got too great.

The hero had let the villain intertwine themself into the hero’s life, and they had thought they were okay. They had thought they had made it. 

Which was why, now, they couldn’t seem to make themself think anything sensical at all.

The villain settled the file in front of the hero gently, on the table they had picked out together with as much care as one was capable of. They almost, almost, looked like they regretted it, face soft and breakable.

The villain cleared their throat in the silence. “If you just read it–”

“What, can’t say it yourself?”

The villain stopped, swallowing. This was the first time in a very long time the hero had seen them look unsure.

The hero scoffed at them. “I know about Project Pegasus.”

The villain went very, very still. They looked down towards the folder.

“So then–”

“This?” the hero picked up the folder, waving it once. They tossed it onto the floor without looking. “I’ve already read it. Two weeks ago.” They stared at the villain, and did their best not to blink. “I just hoped it was fake.”

The hero wondered if maybe, this was what had happened to their parents. If they had spent all of that time fighting and hating one another and crying in darkened rooms just so they could spend the rest of it constantly reaching back towards one another. Pretending that the file wasn’t real. That the fights were nothing more than a blip in existence and not the roots of a rot so deep it would never be fully cut out of them. 

They had wondered about a lot of things, curled on the bathroom floor around that wretched file, but mostly they had wondered if they had always been meant to end up here. If this was what being doomed felt like. 

The villain blinked.

“You hoped it was fake.”

The hero felt a little like they couldn’t breathe. They sucked a shallow breath in through their nose anyways. 

“If you–” their voice broke. “If you were me, would you want to believe it?”

The villain’s shoulders, almost imperceptibly, slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, are you?”

“Yes,” the villain said, but in the space where they should have explained themself, where they should have said it was fake, and that they loved the hero more than anything, and that this little apartment meant everything to them–they said nothing.

“So, what,” the hero snapped, voice wet with barely held back tears. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t mean for me to fall in love with you? That this was an accident? That you’re sorry again? That you never meant to hurt me–”

“No,” the villain corrected gently. “You were always meant to fall in love with me.”

A tiny sob wormed its way out of the hero’s throat before they could stop themself, and they pressed their shaking fist to their mouth before anything else could follow, turning away.

“It was just about the information,” the villain said, and the hero shoved themself back from the table, just to get further away from the love of their life.

“You knew what you were doing,” the hero said bitterly. “You know me. You knew. You knew I would never be able to get over this, and you did it anyways–”

“It’s my job,” the villain protested, and it took the hero everything in them to remain standing. “It wasn’t personal.”

“You made yourself my world, you made yourself into my everything, you made me fall in love with you–”

“I never made you do anything.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t get to say that. This was your goal, wasn’t it? Own up to your accomplishments. Go on. Tell me how proud you are. Do it.”

“Hero.”

“I loved you,” the hero was screaming, maybe.

And there it was. Past tense.

Loved.

The villain stepped back like the hero had slapped them.

“Hero,” their voice was barely a whisper.

The hero picked up the file. Rifled through it once more.

“Hero–”

The hero held out the file. The villain didn’t take it, hands remaining limp at their side.

“Take it.” They gestured with the file. “Take it, and get out.”

The villain sucked in a breath.

“Hero,” the villain said again, uselessly. 

“Tell me you love me, then. Tell me you meant it.” They gestured to the file once more. “Tell me that this is the lie.”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

The villain opened their mouth, and for a second, the hero hoped–

“I don’t love you.” 

The hero wished the villain had just killed them. 

“I never loved you. It was all a lie. A really, really pretty lie.”

The hero wanted to say something elegant to that. Something biting and vicious and jagged in the same way the inside of them felt right now. They wanted to say everything they had felt earlier, every thought that had cut them so that it could cut the villain too.

Instead, all they managed was a choked, “Get out.”

They threw the file at the villain.

The villain didn’t bother to catch it, letting it slam into their chest. It thudded against the floor, papers spilling out in a halo around the villain’s feet.

A part of them wanted the villain to argue further.

A part of them just wanted the villain dead.

“I’m sorry,” the villain said once more, and then they were gone.

The villain had known as soon as the hero had thrown that file that they wanted the villain dead. 

That they were more likely to claw their own bones apart than willingly reach for the villain’s hand again, and the logical part of their brain was viciously pleased about it.

It made this whole thing easier. No lingering attachments to further butcher. Just a field, burned so badly nothing would ever grow in it again, and god, wasn’t that convenient for their mission. 

A tiny, smothered part of their brain, however, wouldn’t stop screaming.

They drowned it.

But then the villain would catch themself glancing to their side in search of a smile. They would wait a beat too long after they said something, would wait for laughter, and then there would be none, and they would curse themself for it, and that little part of them would come gasping back to life and start screaming again.

Possibly it was that little part of them that had made them send a message to the hero, offering the apartment. It was the least they could do, right? Fuck up their life and then get the fuck out of it. 

But the texts had said delivered, but never read, and three days later when the villain used their key to open the lock, they found themself stepping into a mausoleum and not a home. 

They weren’t sure what they were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Dust hanging in the air. Blank squares left on the walls where pictures had once hung. Empty cabinets, empty floors, empty rooms; no, whatever they had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

For a reason they couldn’t name, they went from room to room, searching for something without quite understanding what. It wasn’t until they had come full circle back into the living room, fingers coated in dust and an aching chest, that the villain had realized. Ghosts. They were looking for ghosts. 

Because there was nothing better to describe the way they felt right now other than haunted. And if there was something, anything, of the hero left in here to burn, to destroy, to exorcise, they could use it as an excuse–

There was nothing left of the hero. There were no ghosts. This place was just dead.

The villain made a shuddering little sound, and slammed the front door closed behind them when they managed to stumble into the hallway. 

This was an easy mission, it was–

–two years and dates over ramen and houseplants–

–something even a new recruit could do–

–i love you’s in the dark and the scent of the hero on all of their clothes and–

–something the villain was trained for, countless hours spent–

–laughing and crying and rainy days and sunny ones–

–learning how to fake love, and somehow–

–the villain had forgotten it was fake.

The villain couldn’t breathe.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love, too.

The villain had forgotten they weren’t supposed to fall in love too, and they had just set their entire world ablaze around themself.

Fuck.

It really only made sense, then, that they found themself standing on the roof of their old apartment building as it burned. And when that didn’t work, they moved onto the next, until a third building went up in flames beneath their feet. They knew the kind of message it would send, and they knew exactly who that message would get sent to–

The hero landed on the other end of the rooftop, as far away from the villain as they could possibly get. 

“Stop,” the hero hissed, teeth clenched. “Stop lighting things on fire to get my attention, just stop–”

“I’m in love with you,” the villain said, voice wrecked, and the hero reacted like the villain had shot them. They stepped away, feet bumping against the edge like the fall was a better option than the villain.

“No,” the hero said. They shook as they said it. “Stop it. You don’t get to do this to me.”

“I love you,” the villain said again, and the hero pressed a hand over their own heart.

“Stay away from me,” the hero managed after a moment. Another deep breath, and their hand dropped back down to their side. “Go do whatever it is you need to do, go ruin anyone else’s life, and stay out of the wreckage of mine.”

“We have a life together,” the villain tried. If the hero could just see, could see that they could fix it– “I’m sorry. I was stupid, I was so, so stupid. But you can’t just leave, please, just let me fix it–”

“I told you to get out,” the hero said, and there was nothing soft in their eyes as they looked at the villain. “What about the way I said it made you think it was temporary?”

“Hero, please, let me fix–”

“Villain,” the hero said calmly, voice sharp. “Some things aren’t meant to be rebuilt.”

All of the air left the villain’s lungs in a pathetic sort of wheeze.

“You’re my everything,” the villain choked out. “My whole world, and I’m so sorry. I was–I made a mistake, but you can’t just throw us away–”

“No,” the hero spat, and the villain flinched. “You burned that world to the ground. You’re standing in the ashes of it. You don’t get to come to me begging for it back.”

The villain felt unmoored. Like the world had shifted one step to the left and they had no idea what to do with their limbs anymore, no idea how to keep existing.

“But I love you.”

“The only person who feels anything when you say that is you.”

This time, it was the villain who stepped back.

“Please,” the villain whispered, and the hero closed their eyes.

“What were you expecting to happen. That I would forgive you? Would fall back into your arms? You could tell me that you’re sorry in every language for the rest of your life and that wouldn’t make what you did hurt me any less. So why would you think you could light a building on fire, tell me you love me, and then make everything go back to the way it was?”

“I–I don’t–”

“There is no back,” the hero said firmly. “There is no undo.”

“I don’t know what to do,” the villain said. A tear dripped off the edge of their chin.

The hero appraised them.

“Learn to live with it.”

The villain sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I can’t live without you, okay, I can’t–”

“Then die.”

The villain froze. They waited for the hero to take it back, but the hero just stared at them, face stony and cold. An avenging angel on the edge of the rooftop, firelight flickering at their back and smoke rising into the air, not an ounce of sympathy left in their bones for the villain.

And before the villain could say anything, say that the hero couldn’t possibly mean that, the hero spoke again.

“I mean it. You are not my problem.”

The villain was choking. They were drowning on air and the hole they had left inside of themself when they ripped the hero out of their life and the hero was just watching them–

“Please,” they said pathetically, and even as they said it they knew it was futile.

The hero didn’t bother to give them another response.

They watched the hero leave without saying anything, smoke beginning to sting their eyes and nose as their hands shook. 

It felt terminal. It felt world-ending. It felt deserved.

They wished the hero had just killed them.

[vershautece]

There's been a lot of discourse on whether or not he was a virgin, sounds insane considering he looks like THAT but is it that far fetched? Since he's always been incredibly busy, never seemed to have a serious relationship etc. Perhaps it could be why he wanted to read that book, to be prepared. I'm probably reaching though.

i get what you mean, but there’s little things he’s said that makes me think he isn’t

his reddit post insinuating he was anxious he wouldn’t be able to have sex bc of his locked hip; his notes on goodreads about a self help book included ‘regular sex’ but u could say that was just him taking notes from what the person is saying; but overall he has a couple tweets about how cultures (like Japan) should encourage sex, and i think with him being such a social person, always wanting to meet people and desperate to connect with ppl on a deep level i think he would be having sex

i do think though that he’s been for long stretches of time without it (when his hip was locked, and also like u said because he’s so busy; another thing i remember is him saying he had groinal pain on and off for a year)

and i also think he could have been a virgin for quite a long time - it’s not like the nerdy guys he hangs around would have a lot of action either, lol, and they’re all so busy. the fb post about him on penn crushes that he replied to said despite all my best efforts im still single, so unless he hooked up with random girls, he probably wasn’t having sex a lot (but that was only 5 years ago so im thinking he wasn’t a virgin at that point - he could’ve slept with girls without being in a relationship with them bc that’s normal too, soooo idk)

[evasive-anon]

Let Danny’s Parents Be Criminals

I hate the reveal gone wrong trope in the dpxdc fandom because we know Jack and Maddie end up supporting Danny and Dani in the end. His parents have some major flaws but wanting to torture their actual child isn’t one. What they are guilty of is going way too hard on any plan they cook up without thinking of the consequences.

If I were writing a dpxdc fic and I wanted Danny in adoptable status I’d just have Jack and Maddie in jail on charges of domestic terrorism after they killed off GIW agents and destroyed the GIW’s bases. They realized their ghost kids were in potential danger and went at the government the same way they went at ghosts, guns blazing and with reckless driving.

They end up in federal prison and they Vlad wins custody cause he’s rich and there is your runaway Danny plot starter.

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[danielnelsen]

things aren’t going well with peach. while i think my dad’s very right to be concerned that she hasn’t eaten anything in nearly 60 hours (obviously i am too), im becoming increasingly concerned that she hasn’t slept at all in around 36 hours and prior to that she was under anaesthetic, which isn’t exactly restful, so it’s closer to 48 hrs

like dad took her back to the vet today and we’ve got injections for her painkillers now because she’s not eating, and also injections for fluids (because she doesn’t drink; she only gets water from her food), so the not eating is Bad but also kinda under management, but if she doesn’t sleep soon i’m extremely worried. dad was like ‘if she doesn’t eat by tomorrow afternoon we’ll take her back because the injections will run out’ but like. if she doesn’t sleep tonight we have GOT to take her back first thing in the morning so they can sedate her or something

[moe-broey]

"I didn't really raise either of you in a gendered way" When I was like 10 or 11 maybe 12 but definitely not 13 yet, one day you asked me if I wanted to try on the wedding dress you married my dad in. I liked playing dress up and I liked hanging out with you, so I said yes. We're in the living room that you would (already have?) marry my stepdad in. You button up the back of the dress, I don't know why this becomes a core memory. You married my stepdad in a sundress, very casual, very small "event", only the barest of minimum people required to officiate and witness the wedding were there. You tell me, "Maybe one day, when you get married, you can wear this dress. Oh, but you don't have to if you don't want to! But, do you want it?" I still have the dress. I'm a man. And I don't think I'll ever marry. "You can get rid of it, you won't hurt my feelings." I can't.

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[karinyosa]

one thing about dating/hookup apps is some people just cannot handle a lull in the conversation?? like my GUY we barely know each other and you have no idea what's going on in my life give me at least a day before you assume i need a reminder to get back to you

[indigodawns]

.

[taruruchi]

I've been working on this for... a while

She was making fun of his physical abilities (flight, running, yk) and he wasn't about to take it lying down

Other ver + w/o text under the cut bc I wasn't completely satisfied with this one KDKDJSKDM

[madebycloud]

Ex at Christmas

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you've been invited to spend the christmas with your ex-girlfriend's family. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. only one problem is that your ex-girlfriend has not told anyone that the relationship is over. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and angst, found family af, fake dating, ex lovers, christmas, family gatherings, secret santa, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au vi just begging for you to take her back? words: 17.3k.... (i got carried away) notes: it's so long i should've cut it into parts but idk where... so suffer (╥﹏╥) — ✩ part one, part two

As always, the last drop is a lively spot. warm, cozy, and familiar. Colorful lights hang from the ceiling, a decorated tree stands in the corner, a 'merry christmas' painted on the wall, even a few strings of garland have been hung from the low ceiling.

People are crowding around the bar. Some are playing pool, some are simply chatting amongst themselves, cigarette smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

Vander's voice snaps you from your thoughts. “Look who finally showed her face around here.” He reaches over the top of the bar to ruffle your hair.

“I know, I know.” You laugh, swatting his hand away. “Things are just... busy, y'know?” 

Vander rests his forearms on the countertop, leaning closer to you. “Just making sure you're still alive. “Been an awful long while since I last saw you.”

“I've been fine, old man.” 

“Glad to hear you're doing alright kid. Haven't seen you around here in, what, three months? You need to come by more often, keep an old guy company.” He chuckles. “I almost thought you'd vanished.”

“You sound like a grandma with kids that never call.”

Vander grins and winks at you, taking a rag and wiping at the bartop. “You're like a kid to me, so I guess it checks out.”

You scoff but say nothing, leaning against the bartop as your eyes start to travel across the room. A few people mill about that you recognize as regular patrons, but other than that, there's pretty much no one of interest.

Vander snorts and lifts the rag to his shoulder. “We're having our christmas gathering again this year, you should swing by. Just like last christmas, eh?”

A lot has changed for you in the past month, and you've been dreading this coming up. “I... don't know. I don't think so.”

Vander raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don't know? Not up to seeing the old gang again?”

“Not exactly,” you murmur, the memory of the breakup is still fresh. It's not that you don't want to see your friends, it's just the idea of seeing Vi again. “It's not that, I just... things have changed, especially recently. I don't want to... accidentally make things awkward or something.”

Vander shakes his head and it almost seems like he's laughing at you. “Why would it be awkward?”

“I don't know…” You sigh, your shoulders slumping in resignation. “Nevermind it, I'm going.”

Your words get a smirk out of Vander, and he reaches over to poke your arm. “That's what I like to hear.” He gives you a wink, folding his arms across his chest. “You better show up or I'll drag you here myself. You know I could.”

“Like I'd let you drag me here, old man—there's no way your back can handle that.”

“Ah, you kids these days have no respect for your elders. You're gonna break my old back and then I'll die,” he pretends to sniffle, making you scoff.

Silco then walks over, looping his arms around Vander's shoulders. The two of them exchange a knowing glance before Silco turns his attention to you. “Look who actually decided to show up.”

Vander laughs as he pats Silco's arm. “Cut the kid some slack. They're just here to have a good time.”

Silco chuckles, his eyes still on you. “So are you coming on Christmas?”

You rub at the back of your neck, and just as you're about to answer, Vander beats you to it. “Yeah, she's coming,” he confirms.

Silco hums, he lifts his arm from off Vander, resting it in his hip instead. “Good, I was beginning to think you were going to weasel your way out of it.”

Vander smacks his shoulder. “Lay off, would ya? let the kid breathe.”

Silco relents and waves his hand dismissively. “I'm just saying.” He looks back at you. “We all want you there, you know. It wouldn't be the same without you.”

Hearing them say that makes you feel guilty for even considering not going. You know they mean it. You just hope it won't be too much awkward with Vi there.

Vander nods and smiles. “He's right, you know. Everyone's been asking about you. They'll be happy to have you there.”

“I get it. You don't have to butter me up, old man.”

Vander chuckles, then he glances over his shoulder, gesturing to a small, unassuming box on a nearby table. “Hey, could you grab that little box over there for me?” Silco smirks and nods before moving to get the box, bringing it over and handing it to Vander.

“What's in the box?” you ask.

Vander grins at you, holding the box in his hands. “We're doing a secret santa,” he explains, “and since you’re coming that means you're participating too.”

Your eyebrows raise to your hairline. You'd completely forgotten about the secret santa. You groan in annoyance, running your hands over your face. “I'm still annoyed I got that whoopee cushion from Powder last year.”

“That was a good one. She was so damn proud of herself too, and besides…” Vander pauses, turning to look at you. “You never know, you might get something less annoying this year.” He then holds the box out to you, a smile on his lips.

There's always the possibility you won't get something shitty, but knowing most of your friends... Yeah, that's unlikely.

You look at the box, then up at Vander. You take the box from him. “I hope you're right, old man.”

Vander chuckles before stepping back to talk to Silco.

You turn the box over in your hands, feeling the weight of it. It's not too heavy, and you feel compelled to shake it. But if you do that, you'll probably end up drawing Vander's name, and that's basically cheating.

Sighing, you decide to just bite the bullet. You take the lid off the box, sticking your hand inside. Your fingers rummage around before they eventually close around a folded piece of paper.

You pull out the slip of paper, unfolding it slowly. You glance at the handwriting, then almost roll your eyes.

Of course you got Vi.

Out of all the names you could have drawn, you get the one person you didn't want to get. You could have gotten literally anyone else. Mylo, Claggor, Powder, Silco, or anyone other than Vi. but no, you had to get your ex. Just your luck.

You look at the note again, and the first thought that comes to your mind is...

Well, crap.

You're so focused on the slip of paper in your hands that you don't notice Vander and Silco peeking over your shoulder.

“So, who'd you get?”

Vander's question makes you jump, you quickly stuff the paper into your pocket before they can see who it is.

“No one,” you say, waving your hand to dismiss the question. “It's not important.”

Silco raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you pocketing the paper?”

“It's a secret for a reason.”

Vander and Silco glance at each other, and you can tell they're silently communicating. 

Vander turns back to you a moment later, rubbing his jaw. “A secret, huh? Well, that means whoever you got won't know it's you.”

Silco hums. “That's probably a good thing.” 

“That's kind of the point of a secret Santa.”

Vander nods, scratches his beard before his lips turn up in a smile. “True means you can give them something real nice.”

Silco glances at Vander before looking at you. “Whoever you got is probably going to be very happy when they get their gift.”

You almost snort at Silco's words. Yeah, right. a gift from you? She’ll probably chuck it straight in the trash.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to shake the thoughts of Vi out of your head. You don't know why you're worried about how she'll react. Why care if she'll like the gift? Why care if she's happy with whatever you get her?

The answer is so obvious, but you don't want to admit it even to yourself.

Vander and Silco are still looking at you, and you realize that you have to say something. Any longer and they might figure it out.

You push those thoughts away. “If they'll actually like it. I'm not the best with gifts.”

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Silco says, a knowing smirk on his face.

Vander nods. “Just give them something from the heart.”

From the heart, my ass. The only thing you want to give her from the heart is a kick in the ass.

“Because someone's gonna be real happy with something from me.”

Vander and Silco exchange another look again, like they're having an entire conversation without actually saying anything.

You turn away from them, looking out the window. They're probably trying to read your mind, figure out who it is you got. The thought makes your eyes twitch. You don't want them to know. You don't know why, but you really don't want them to know.

“Just do us a favor,” Silco suddenly says, cutting into the silence that had fallen between you. “Try not to stress too hard about it. You'll give yourself gray hairs.”

Vander chuckles at Silco's words, “You'll give us an old heart attack.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

Silco grins at your response. “Well, we're only half-joking.”

Vander's eyes soften. He slaps Silco's shoulder to get him to shut up. “What he means is, you overthink too much,” Vander adds.

Yeah, so what if you overthink? It's a normal thing to do. Especially in situations like this, where you're stuck with the one person you don't want to be.

Why keep thinking about her? You need to stop obsessing over her. She made her choice, and it wasn't you.

You run your fingers to your face, trying to think of something else to distract yourself. It's not like you don't know what you want to get Vi. You just don't know if you should get it.

“I don't overthink,” you grumble, shifting your weight on your feet. 

“Oh yes, you do.”

And they're both right about that. You can't even count how many times you've paced around your apartment, replaying every interaction you had with Vi over and over again in your head. Every word, every touch, and every look. All of it, it's like your brain refuses to let you forget.

You've spent countless nights trying to figure out where you went wrong. What you could have done differently if there was something you could have changed. All of that, just because of one person who tossed you aside without a second thought.

“Listen,” Silco says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at him as he stands up straight, a smirk spreads across his lips. “You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about something that hasn't even happened yet.”

“He's right,” Vander gives you a look before continuing. “And for the love of God, stop overthinking.”

If only it were that simple. If only you could just switch off your brain and stop thinking about everything. But you know damn well you can't do that. Your thoughts are as uncontrollable as the weather, and right now, they're a mess.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your thoughts. “I should probably go,” you mutter, and the two men nod. 

Vander pats you on the back as you start for the door. “Same place, eh?’ he calls after you. 

“Don't think too hard, kid,” Silco adds.

You give them both a nod as you exit the bar, shutting the door behind you.

Christmas is going to be one hell of a mess this year, you can feel it.

Now all you have to do is figure out how the hell you're going to deal with it.

—

You're standing outside of Vander and Silco’s house, the weight of the present in your hands suddenly feeling a thousand times heavier.

You've replayed this moment in your head countless times, but now that it's happening for real, you're not sure if you're ready.

Christmas music drifts out of the house, it's a familiar tune that you've heard a million times.

You push down the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You shouldn't be feeling so nervous, it's just a gift. Just a present for a secret santa.

But this isn't just anyone, this is Vi. The one person who you didn't want to get. The one person who broke things off without a second thought.

Stop thinking about this. It's just one night. one stupid night, and then it will be over. You can get through this, you can handle being around Vi for one Christmas. No more thinking about her. No more wondering where you went wrong or if you could have done something to change things. Just get through the night and forget about her.

You take another deep breath, straighten up, and square your shoulders. Then, in one moment, you push open the doors to their house and walk inside.

Your eyes search the room, looking for that familiar pink hair. But you don't see her. Your shoulders relax a little. Maybe she's not here yet. That'll give you a few minutes to brace yourself. No one is around right now, probably in their rooms or preparing for the dinner. 

You were so distracted by looking around that you didn't realize someone was standing right behind you until they grabbed you and spun you around. Your eyes meet their powder blue ones, and your mouth suddenly goes dry.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Woah, hey-” you stumble over your words.

“Don't 'woah hey' me,” she snaps, her grip tightening on your arm.

Vander's deep voice cut in before you could even speak. “You've actually came.”

You feel her look away from you, her hand finally falling from your arm. As soon as it does, you rub the skin where she grabbed you.

Vander looks between the two of you and says, “Hand me the gift, kid. I'll put it there.” He gestures towards a christmas tree where the gifts are already sitting underneath.

You quickly hold the present out for him to take.

He takes it before giving both of you another look. “Go easy with your girlfriend, eh?”

You freeze, your heart stopping as his words register. Your eyes widen as you slowly turn your head to look at Vi.

Girlfriend?

“I will.” Before you can even process what's happening, you're being pulled outside.

You yank your arm back from Vi, quickly putting some distance between the two of you. “What's your problem?”

She spins around and scoffs, looking you up and down. “I should be asking you that. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Vander invited me. He asked me to come.”

“Then you should've said no.”

“Wow? just wow.” You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I know that things didn't go well between us, but you don't get to push me out of this family. They're my family too, and Vander invited me here to celebrate. I have as much right to be here as you do.”

You refuse to break eye contact with her. “You can ignore me all you want, but you don't get to decide how I'm allowed to spend my Christmas. If you want to keep acting like this, fine. Ignore me, pretend I don't exist, just like you've been doing for the past months.”

Vi lets out a laugh, rubbing a hand on her forehead. “They do not know.”

You blink at her. “What do you mean?”

She looks over at the entrance and says, “They all think we're still together.”

Your eyes widen. “What?” you almost shout. “Why the hell would they think that?” “Because I didn't tell them.” She scoffs. “Every time I talk to them, they ask me how you are. Silco and Vander keep making comments about how we make a cute couple. They still think we're together.”

“Why the hell didn't you tell them?” You glare at her. “Were you ever going to?”

“I don't know,” she retorts, throwing her arms up. “They're all so happy about us being together.”

“That's such bullshit,” you snap at her. “That's such a crappy excuse! You should be the one to tell them we broke up.”

She looks away, planting her arm on her hips. “Don't you think I know that?” she shoots back. “It's not that simple. I can't just rip off the bandage like that.”

“Is that it? You’re scared that they'll know?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know how Silco and Vander can get.”

“I know how they get,” you snap back at her. “You're just too much of a pussycat to face them and tell them the truth.”

Her expression hardens, and her jaw clenches. “Look who's talking. You can't even say no to a little family gathering, but here you are.”

“I didn't come here because I wanted to see you. I came for the family, not for you.”

“As if I wanted to see you either. The last thing I wanted was to have to deal with you all night.”

“Fine, you know what? I'll go tell them right now that we broke up. They deserve to know.”

She grabs your wrist before you can take a step towards the door. “Wait”

You look down at her hand, then back up at her. “What?”

“Don't,” she says through gritted teeth. “Just... don't tell them yet.”

You scoff, ripping your arm away from her grip. “Why the hell not? So they can keep thinking we're still together?”

“Just don't tell them tonight. Can you just give me until after Christmas?”

“Why are you still dragging this out? What difference does it make if we wait till then or do it now?”

“Because it's fucking Christmas!” she snaps before dropping her gaze. “Look, it's the holidays. I just... I don't want to ruin Christmas. They've all been looking forward to all of us celebrating together. I don't want to ruin it by spoiling the fun.”

“Wait—let me get this straight. You want to fake it this christmas? Pretend we're still a happy couple?”

She's quiet again. “Yeah,” she whispers, looking down. “Yeah, that's what I'm asking.”

“You're unbelievable, Vi.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself together. “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You're asking me to pretend like we're still together, to pretend that nothing has changed.”

“It's just one day,” she mumbles. “One day, that's all I'm asking for. We can tell them anytime after that, just not tonight, please.”

She even says please. Something about the way she says it makes your heart ache. She looks desperate, like this really means something to her. Who are you kidding? Of course, this means something to her. 

They're her family, they're important to her. And on Christmas, all they want is for everything to be perfect. perfect food, perfect presents, and perfect couples.

You hate the way she's looking at you with those soft, pleading eyes. She always looks at you like that when she wants something, and you always give in. She does it subconsciously, knowing how to get exactly what she wants. And damn it, it works.

“Fine,” you mutter. “You've got your damned wish.”

And there it is. There's the look you've been waiting for. That look of relief that comes to her eyes.

You hate that look. You hate how your heart flutters when she looks like that. You hate it so much. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you've got me for tonight. I'll pretend like we're still together. Happy now?”

There's a flicker of a smile on her face, something quick that's gone before you can even register. “Yeah, thank you.”

She looks away again. Silence falls between the two of you as you shift awkwardly.

This is gonna be a long night.

You sigh, watching as she keeps her focus on the floor. This is so damn awkward.

And it's your own fault for agreeing to this nonsense. There's no way this night doesn't end up being a goddamn catastrophe. You would give anything to just disappear right now.

Powder's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Peeking her head out of the doorway, looking at the two of you. “Hey, you two. It's cold out there, get your asses in here.”

You look at Vi, waiting for a sign of acknowledgment.

She slowly glances up, her gaze meeting yours. “Come on,” she murmurs, holding out her hand.

Taking a deep breath, you take her hand in yours.

You've held her hand so many times before—more times than you can count. Holding her hand used to be nothing, but now it feels so odd. So awkward.

But she doesn't seem to notice how out of place it feels. She slowly leads you towards the door, squeezing your hand as she pulls you along.

“How are my favorite love birds doing?” Mylo's voice greets you as you both enter.

He slings a casual arm over your shoulders, leaning on your shoulder to get a better look at you. “It's about time you two showed up. I thought for sure you were just gonna keep making out in a corner somewhere.”

It takes everything you have not to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, you keep a neutral expression and chuckle awkwardly, “Yeah, you know us. Can't keep our hands off of each other.”

“You two are sickeningly in love, it's really cute, actually.”

Your eye twitches, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Yeah, we're very in love,” Vi says, and you can tell she's trying not to roll her eyes.

Mylo claps you on the shoulder before releasing you. “Well then, I'm going to go find myself some eggnog.” He leaves towards the kitchen, whistling to himself as he goes.

You turn to look at Vi, and you almost feel a twinge of hatred towards the way she so casually holds your hand, like nothing is wrong.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice brings you back to reality, and suddenly you're all too aware of how hard you're clenching your jaw and the fact that you're basically just glowering at the floor with a storm cloud over your head.

You raise your eyes to meet with hers, and you have to force yourself to release some of the tension. “Yeah, fine,” you mutter. “just cold”

It's a lie, obviously. It's not cold at all. Vander always keeps the place nice and warm.

Not even she's dumb enough to fall for that. She glances around, clearly noticing how you're not really hiding your feelings well.

She runs her thumb over the back of your hand. It's an innocent gesture, one that you've seen dozens of times before. It's not meant to be anything special, it never was. And yet, it still makes your heart skip a beat. 

You have absolutely no idea how you're going to get through this night with both your sanity and your heart still intact.

“Okay,” she finally says, “can you stop clenching your jaw so hard? you look like you're trying to grind your teeth down to the bone. I know this isn't the ideal situation, but please don't go around looking like you want to kill everyone in this room.”

Her fingers squeeze your hand, and you realize just how tightly you're holding her hand in yours. Your knuckles are white, and your fingers are probably digging into her skin.

Gritting your teeth, you loosen your grip. 

“There, that's better… please try and just relax for a bit. This is going to be hellish already, so I at least need you to not look like you hate me every second we're in here.”

You look away from her. “Please don't act like you care.”

“I'm not acting like I care,” she says, a tone just loud enough for only you to hear. “I do care, and that's the problem.”

Of course she has to say something like that right now. Of course she has to hit where it hurts the most.

Care? care about what? about you? about what she put you through, how she broke your heart?

You open your mouth, but your response dies in your throat. You have no idea how to respond to that.

A loud shout interrupts your thoughts, and you both turn around. “Oi! Time for dinner!” Powder yells from the doorway into the kitchen.

Vi mutters under her breath, “finally.”

Powder grins as she waves you both over. “Hurry up or Vander will eat everything and complain about his bad back afterwards.”

“We're coming,” Vi calls back.

The two of you head towards the kitchen. There's a long table in the middle of the room, covered in a red and green tablecloth. Everyone is already crowded around the table, taking their seats as you two enter the room. Vander is at the head of one of the tables, Silco seated beside him. Mylo and Claggor are chatting amongst themselves as Powder takes her seat beside Claggor.

Vi looks at the seating arrangement and sighs, realizing what's about to happen. She pulls you over to the table and sits down, pulling you down into the seat right next to her.

After a few moments, everyone quiets down and turns their attention to Silco.

Silco places his hands together. “It's good to see everyone together like this today. I am thankful that we are all here, safe and healthy.” He glances around the room in a quick survey, seeming to count everyone's attendance. “And what better time to be together than the holidays?”

Powder huffs. “Can we just eat? I'm starving.” 

Silco raises his hand for Powder to stay quiet. “Patience, Pow. First, let's do something a bit… different.”

Mylo and Claggor glance at each other in confusion. “Different?” Mylo repeats.

“Indeed,” Silco replies. “Instead of just diving into our meal, I thought it would be nice if we all took a moment to share a few words about what we are thankful for this year.”

“We're really gonna do this?”

Claggor nudges him. “Be polite, Mylo.”

“He's right, though,” Powder chimes in.

Silco raises an eyebrow at them both. “Is it really such a hassle to express gratitude at the end of the year?”

Mylo and Powder grumble something under their breaths.

Claggor is the first one to respond. “I think it's a fine idea.”

“Thank you, Claggor,” Silco replies, “I'm glad we have at least one cooperative person here.”

After a moment of silence, Vander speaks. “Alright, then I'll go first... I am grateful for my family,” he says as he looks around the room. “I am thankful for my health, for my business, and most of all, that everyone is still here with me and safe.”

“That's so soft,” Powder says, but everyone ignores her.

Vander turns his head and looks directly at Silco, as if he's saying something that's meant to be for Silco's ears only, though everyone can clearly hear. “I'm also thankful for you, Sil,” he adds, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smile.

You're not sure if you're the only one who noticed, but that comment definitely seemed personal and almost a little out of place.

He collects himself quickly and nods at Vander, seemingly not quite sure of what to say. “Thank you, Vander.” 

Silco clears his throat and composes himself, turning his gaze to Powder. “How about you, Pow? Any words of gratitude?”

Powder groans, slouching back in her seat like a child who's been forced to eat her vegetables. “I swear, if you make me say something corny-”

Mylo leans over the table to look at her sister. “Say something nice for once, or you're not getting dessert.”

“Ugh, fine. I am thankful for…” She looks around the room, taking in everyone's faces. “I'm thankful everyone's here and we're all... whatever, happy and healthy or something like that,” she mumbles.

“I'll take whatever I can get,” Silco mutters before turning his attention to Claggor. “What about you, Claggor?”

Claggor seems to be taking a moment to think, like he's actually putting effort into what he will say. “I'm grateful for…” His eyes are almost unfocused as he thinks. After a moment, he glances up to look at Vander. “I'm grateful for the family I have here.”

Vander gives him a warm look in response.

Everyone's gaze turns to Mylo, expecting him to go next.

He fidgets anxiously, shifting in his seat as he glances around the room. “What am I supposed to say?...er, fine... My whole life's a mess, but...at least all you idiots are here to make my life more miserable.”

“We love you too, Mylo” Powder teases. “Real touching. I think I might cry.”

Mylo throws a glare in her direction. “Shut up.”

Silco glances at Vi, his gaze lingering as he waits for Vi to speak.

“I'm thankful for…” Her voice is quieter than usual, more hesitant. She glances at you before continuing. “I'm... thankful for the people I have in my life.”

Everyone's gaze settles on you next, waiting for you to say something. “Well, I... I guess I'm thankful to be able to still participate in this family gathering, even if I haven't seen everyone in a while.” You take a look at Vi before moving on. “Hopefully I can still be here and spend Christmas with all of you next year too.”

She holds your gaze for a moment, almost as if she's processing what you just said… and then, unexpectedly, a smile forms at the corner of her lips.

It's a subtle change, barely noticeable, but you see it. and just seeing her smile, even a small one like that, has butterflies filling your stomach. It's been so long since you've seen her smile like that. A part of you misses it, a part of you yearns to see it more often.

She quickly looks away, and you notice that her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink.

“There, we all said our little cheesy bullshit,” Powder says, clearly getting impatient.

Silco turns to Powder, his expression disapproving. “Language, Pow,” he reminds. 

Vander sighs. “Yes, Powder, mind your language” he adds, earning a mock-offended look from Powder.

“Like you don't swear all the time.”

“I do not swear all the time, Pow,” he protests, although you know it's a lie. Even the most proper and upstanding people swear, and Vander is definitely not that.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Vander huffs but chooses not to add anything. Silco lets out a dry cough to redirect everyone's attention. “Right, now that that's over, let's go ahead and eat, shall we?” Silco says, as if the whole moment of gratitude never happened..

“Finally,” Mylo grumbles, “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about why we all gathered here.”

Silco gives him a look. “Patience is a virtue, Mylo.”

“We've all been patient for the last hour, so spare me.”

Claggor sighs, but thankfully Mylo and Powder seem to settle into silence for the time being.

Silco nods in approval. “Then, shall we begin?”

Vander gets up from his seat, moving to go grab the food.

Powder and Mylo look at Vander expectantly, and they both look like they're about to get out of their seats. Silco gives them a warning look, silencing them before they can get a word out. “Wait until everything is ready.”

They both grumble, but they obediently sit back down. They're impatient, sure, but they at least know better than to piss off Silco.

Vander returns a moment later, setting a platter filled with food on the table. It looks delicious, and the smell is mouthwatering. Your stomach growls a little, reminding you of how hungry you are.

Powder and Mylo are practically drooling, and you honestly wouldn't be surprised if they lunged for the food the moment Silco gave the word.

Thankfully, he doesn't give them any chance. He simply says, “Please, help yourselves,” and Silco has to gesture for them to wait.

They almost get up and move to the table, and they're clearly resisting the temptation to shove each other to try and get to the food faster.

Mylo lets out a curse, and Jinx giggles in response. Vi stands up and grabs both of them, grabbing onto their shoulders and holding them back from each other.

“Enough, you two,” she scolds, “there's plenty of food for everyone. Chill out.”

They look at her with expressions that clearly are saying, 'no, we're hungry'. Powder lets out a huff, and Mylo looks like he's one more remark away from shoving her sister.

Vi's expression sharpens, her eyes boring into Mylo and Powder. “No, quit the bullshit, you can wait a few minutes, and if you two can't act like adults about it, neither of you are getting any.”

Mylo immediately shuts up at that, his expression turning more guilty. Powder just looks like she's about to protest, a pout forming on her face. Vi glares at Powder to shush her as well.

“Just quit it,” she says. “You can wait, the food will taste better if you don't shove it all down your throats like dogs.”

“Fine, we'll wait,” she grumbles.

Mylo just nods with a pout, staying quiet.

Vi seems to notice their looks, and she rolls her eyes, staying put just in case. She seems wary as she watches Powder and Mylo, her eyes switching from them to the food on the table.

And sure enough, the moment Silco gestures for everyone to get their food, Powder and Mylo are gone, rushing to claim their plates.

Powder and Mylo shove each other for their own plates. No one says anything though, they're all just used to it. This is just how Powder and Mylo are, and they've come to accept it. Vi doesn't even seem as bothered as everyone else does. 

Mylo seems like he's really close to just pushing Powder to the side and snatching up the slice he wants, and Powder doesn't look any better. Honestly, if Vi didn't step in, there was a chance they'd start throwing punches.

And judging from how the others' looks, especially Silco, they look like they're expecting this. 

It's like this is all completely normal, they know to expect this kind of behavior when food, and more importantly, free food, is involved.

Powder and Mylo finally settle down after their little fight, and they finally begin digging into the food.

Mylo is practically shoving it into his face, eating it like he's been starved for weeks. Powder isn't any better, although at least she's not making a complete mess.

Claggor is significantly slower when it comes to eating, choosing to take his time as he slowly eats as opposed to just shoving the food into his mouth.

Vander eats at a decent pace, and he doesn't seem as starving like Mylo is.

The last one to begin eating is Silco, and surprisingly, there's a smile on his face. He takes one look at how Mylo and Powder are chowing down on their food, then he turns his gaze and looks at you, as if silently asking if you're going to eat.

You take the hint, and you decide to dig into your own food. The food is delicious, and you can't blame Mylo and Powder for basically trying to swallow their food whole.

Vi also begins eating now that everyone's settled down.

Vander laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Slow down a little, you two, the food isn't going anywhere.”

Mylo and Powder both raise their heads at that, and they both look like they're considering it for a moment... but they immediately go back to shoving food down their throats.

Claggor shakes his head as he watches them eat. “You'd think they'd never seen a Christmas dinner before.”

“You know them, they would scarf down all the food in town if they could.”

Powder glances up at that, a small pout forming on her lips. “Hey, it's not our fault we're just starving.”

Mylo nods in agreement, his mouth too full to say anything.

“You both just had eaten before this,” Claggor counters.

Mylo swallows whatever food is in his mouth long enough to argue with Claggor. “And that was hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Powder agrees, “it was practically an eternity since we ate.”

“Two hours is not an eternity,” Claggor retorts. 

“It might as well be,” Powder counters.

Despite the bickering and arguing the dinner feels oddly... domestic, almost.

Claggor looks like the responsible and mature oldest sibling who's done with his siblings nonsense, Vander almost acts like a tired parent, Silco acts more like a stern aunt, and Powder and Mylo act like rowdy kids who are constantly at each other's throats.

Vi sits next to you. She's making sarcastic comments with Silco, laughing at Powder's jokes, and making small talk with Claggor. She even gives Mylo an unimpressed glare when he tries to snatch all the bread for himself.

It's like you're both back to normal. The way she's acting makes your heart ache. She's giving you all the attention a partner would give.

She gives you fond smiles whenever you make a comment, she casually slides an arm around your shoulders, she even scoots her chair a little closer to yours.

Her eyes are soft, her voice is soft, whenever you look at her, she looks back with this affectionate look.

It's so normal, that it almost takes you back to your relationship and how you two were before the breakup.

She's even doing little things, like leaning closer to you, letting a hand rest on your thigh, even discreetly grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with hers under the table.

You want to hold her tight and never let her go, but your brain keeps reminding you. You two aren't together anymore.

But when you look at her, when she looks at you with that look in her eyes, everything goes quiet. 

Maybe it could work this time.

Maybe you two could just bury the hatchet and move on.

Maybe things could work between you two if you try it out again.

Then you remember the fights, the nights you spent on your bed, crying while Vi was out with friends. You remember how she treated you after the breakup—how she tossed you aside like discarded trash.

You try to ignore it, push it to the back of your head. But it's so hard when Vi sits next to you, close enough for you to catch the scent of her perfume. She smells like cigarettes and leather, something that's so her.

You're so focused on trying to stop yourself from touching her or even getting closer that you're almost surprised when she suddenly leans her head against your shoulder.

She doesn't say anything, just leans against you. She's pressed against your side, her shoulder against your shoulder, her head against yours, her hand on your thigh.

You notice her scent again, now stronger.

Her hair brushes against your neck, the way you can feel the warmth of her body, and the way her thumb draws little circles into your thigh.

She's so close, and yet you want her even closer.

You want to run your hands through her hair, you want to nuzzle your face into her shoulder, you want to feel her hands roaming your body.

You just want her.

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Powder, her question pulling you out of your head. “It's been a while since we've seen you two together,” she says, her mouth still full of food.

Claggor shoots Powder a look. “Powder-”

“Shush, I'm just wondering,” she argues, shrugging casually, “has she been avoiding you?”

“No,” you say before anyone can say anything. “We just... haven't had time to schedule any dates, that's all.”

“For months? Haven't had time to schedule a single date for months?”

“Life gets busy, y'know,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mylo scoffs at that. “You two are dating, the least you could do is at least manage one date a month.”

Claggor smacks him over the head. Mylo grumbles and rubs the back of his head, shooting his brother a glare. “What? it's true,” he mutters. “We just kind of... we all miss you.”

Vander gives Mylo a disapproving glare. “What Mylo means is, your presence has been sorely missed around here.”

“We all just... we just want you around more,” Powder puts in her two cents, speaking around a mouthful of food again.

You cast a sidelong glance at Vi. You and her are putting up a pretty good facade so far, but Mylo's question seemed to have put her on the spot a little. She catches your glance, and you give her a look that says, just play along. Vi sighs, her hand squeezing your thigh.

“Look, I-” She glances around the table, meeting everyone's eyes before sighing and putting on the most believable expression. “I know we haven't been as... present as we should have been for the past few months. Work just got really hectic.”

“That's true,” you back her up with a nod. “I had to travel away for a business trip a few weeks ago, so it's been pretty hard to find time to spend together.”

Vander, Silco, and Powder all nod in understanding. They're aware of the fact that you have a job in a big city, so it's not an unbelievable explanation.

Mylo, however, snorts and crosses his arms. “You don't have to feed us some lame excuse for not hanging out with us.”

Claggor gives Mylo another smack. “Would you shut up already?”

“Ow!” Mylo grumbles as he rubs his head again, shooting Claggor a dirty look.

Vander sighs. “Regardless, it's good to have you here for Christmas this time.”

Everyone nods and agrees. Powder grins at you, Silco shoots you a small almost-smile, and Claggor and Vander both look genuinely pleased to have you here.

All eyes then land on Mylo, and he shrugs again, mumbling, “I guess it is good to have you here.”

“See, it's a christmas miracle, Mylo isn't being a little prick for once,” Powder teases.

Mylo scowls at her. “Hey, I'm never a little prick-”

“Bullshit.”

Mylo just grumbles again, his eyes narrowing at Powder. “I just think that-”

“Nobody cares what you think,” Powder interrupts again.

That just causes Claggor, Vander, and Silco to laugh. Vi snorts next to you, squeezing your thigh.

The conversation soon changes to talking about old childhood holiday memories.

Mylo tells a story about him stealing Silco's secret chocolate stash when he was twelve. Silco scowls at the memory, but there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Powder tells a story about the time she accidentally burned the back of Vander's hair with a roman candle. Vander laughs and shakes his head at the memory.

At some point, Claggor chimes in to tell a story about a time he and Mylo accidentally broke a window during a snowball fight. Even Mylo himself laughs at that one.

There's lighthearted banter, friendly jabs, and just a lot of laughter in between. This, this is what it should have been like from the beginning. It reminds you of the way it used to be when you were all younger, but still has a different air to it. In a way, it's almost better than those old days. Everyone's grown, but there's still that same energy that always connected you all as a family... it just feels fuller.

You don't know if it's just the christmas lights playing tricks on your mind, but you swear you can see the faintest tearful sheen in Vander's eyes. He's always had a bit of parental pride and love toward all of you, but seeing you all sitting here together, happy... damn, it must bring back a lot of memories for him.

Silco even looks less grumpy than usual, his mouth twisting into a barely visible smile as the rest of the table continues talking. Yeah, this is how christmas should be…

It almost makes you forget that all of this is fake, almost makes you forget why you and Vi aren't together anymore. It's almost like just for tonight, you can pretend like things are back to how they used to be.

But you know this will not last. When everything is said and done, when christmas night is over and you're all saying your goodbyes, you have no doubt in your mind that you and Vi will go your separate ways again.

You glance at her, taking in the sight of her laughing with the rest. Her eyes are bright, her smile is big, and her entire face lights up with joy. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your heart to quiet. 

Vi must notice you looking, because she glances over at you. She's looking at you with that look again. You recognize it so easily.

That look... that damn look she's giving you again. The look that makes your heart stutter against your ribs, the look that makes your stomach twist into knots. It's a look that almost makes you want to lean forward and kiss her.

You almost give into your urges. You almost reach out and push a stray strand of hair out of her face, you almost do something to kiss her, almost.

But you don't, you can't. That would spoil the whole 'still dating' facade, and besides.... you have boundaries.

You give her a nod, offering a small smile, and you swear that you see disappointment flash across her eyes.

She looks like she wants to say something, her hand tightening over your knee again, but she seems to change her mind and just smiles back.

Maybe it's just a figment of your own imagination, you think to yourself. Maybe it was a trick of the light or something.

Claggor reaches over to grab something from the middle of the table, and Silco clears his throat. “How about you two?” he says it casually, like he's just making small talk, but there's a hint of concern in his voice. “Any... any problems between the two of you lately?”

You and Vi both sit up straighter. “Problems...?” Vi repeats.

Silco just shrugs, playing it casual. “I don't know, I'm just wondering... a lot of couples who have been together for as long as the two of you have.” He trails off, but everyone at the table knows the implications.

Mylo grumbles. “I swear, if you start talking about how high the divorce rate is—” Claggor elbows Mylo, and he shuts up.

Silco just chuckles. “Oh, I'm sure you two can last.”

Powder rolls her eyes. “These two have been together since forever. You guys were like... practically attached at the hip, from day one.”

“Yeah, we were like that, weren't we?” Vi looks back at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a casualness you don't feel. “Yeah, we were.”

Silco hums. “I remember when you two first started dating.”

“Oh, do you remember that?” Vander says, looking at Silco. “I remember the two of them coming to me the day they decided they were going to be official.”

Claggor nods. “Yeah, and they were so... so mushy. All 'you're mine' and 'we're never going to break up,” he puts on a mock high-pitched voice, imitating you and Vi

“That was the worst,” Powder groans, shoving food into her mouth.

Mylo grins and elbows Claggor. “How many times did you have to stop them from making out all over the bar again?”

“Way too many times.”

“By the way,” Mylo says. “You two aren't doing anything for new years, are you?”

You and Vi exchange glances. “...we haven't made plans yet,” you say slowly, trying to think of excuses.

“Oh, you should come join us then,” Mylo says, leaning back and stretching his arms. “All of us are getting hammered down here for new years, you two should come.”

“Yeah, it'll be fun!” Powder pipes up, eyes lighting up. “You guys will come, won't you? promise you'll come.”

You open your mouth, trying to wrack your brain for excuses, but before you can say anything-

“Of course we'll come.”

You turn to look at Vi, and she just gives you a shrug.

Mylo grins. “Good, good! That'll be fun.” He sits up and points a finger at you both. “I swear, the two of you used to be so much fun at parties, it's like you both went boring when you got older.”

“Hey, just cause we're getting old doesn't mean we suddenly became party poopers,” Vi says defensively. “We're still fun.”

Mylo cackles. “Are you now? I never see you two do anything anymore.” He leans back in his seat. “Ever since you got that fancy shmancy job, you've been too busy to have any fun.”

“We know how to have fun, we have—” you pause, trying to think of the word, “responsibilities now. Responsibilities that a certain someone is too dumb to understand.”

“I understand responsibilities, but I understand the concept that if you don't get wasted while you're young, then you'll wake up at forty, old and boring,” he says, looking at Silco and Vander. “And I want to make the most out of my young and reckless years. Meanwhile, you've already turned into an old, boring fart.”

You scowl at that, but Silco interrupts before you can respond. “Don't knock on old farts just yet. Some of us are old and still know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” Vander chimes in, nodding his head. “Just because we're old doesn't mean we don't know how to have a good time.”

Mylo rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you old farts can still have fun. You just don't know how to have real fun anymore.” Mylo then pouts. “I just... I miss how it used to be, you know?” He sighs, resting his chin in his hand. “Before all that adult crap, when things were easier.”

“Easier,” Powder mutters, poking at the remains of her food. “Yeah, when we were broke and always hungry, real easy.”

Mylo reaches over and flicks her arm. “Easy doesn't always mean money, you dumbass.”

Powder scowls and smacks his arm back. “Don't call me a dumbass, you dumbass.”

“Then don't be a dumbass,” Mylo snaps back, smacking her again.

Powder smacks him again, harder. “Don't you dare call me a dumbass again.”

Before they can start another childish argument, Silco's voice cuts in. “Enough you two," he says, and they immediately grumble and fall quiet.

“Honestly, I sometimes wonder how the two of you aren't still in high school,” Vander says.

“That's an insult to high schoolers, they're more mature than those two,” Claggor jokes, earning him a smack to the head from both Powder and Mylo.

He yells and puts his hands up in surrender, “ow ow ow, ok ok! don't hurt me!”

Jinx and Mylo laugh, while Silco shakes his head. “See what I mean? Children.”

“And they both insist they're mature enough to be out in the real world, independent and capable,” Vander says, and Silco chuckles.

“They're still just as chaotic now as they were in high school,” Silco says dryly. “Nothing has changed.”

Powder and Mylo both glare at him. “Really? like you two were that much better in high school,” she grumbles.

Silco raises an eyebrow at that. “We certainly weren't as immature as some people,” he says pointedly.

“You guys were probably just as bad as us, you just don't remember."

There's a pause, and Silco and Vander exchange glances before Silco snorts. He tries to bite back a laugh, but it comes out anyway, causing Vander to burst out laughing as well.

“I can't-” Vander wheezes between laughs. “I can't believe... you actually…”

Silco doubles over, laughing even harder. After a moment, he manages to gasp out a few words. “Oh, if you only... if you only knew…”

Powder and Mylo exchange confused glances, while Claggor tilts his head. “What? what happened? what's so funny?”

The laughter finally dies down as Silco composes himself enough to speak. “Nothing, it's nothing,” he says, waving a hand.

“All right, all right,” Vander looks around the table. “I think most of us are done eating. Who wants to help with the dishes?”

There's a collective groan from the rest of the table. No one likes doing dishes.

Powder and Mylo immediately groan out a “not it,” and Claggor follows up with “You all know I'm terrible at dishes-”

“Don't look at me either,” Silco grumbles. Vander just sighs and shakes his head.

and that just leaves you and Vi... great, just great.

You're about to argue as well, anything to get out of being stuck in the kitchen with Vi, but she beats you to it. “Yeah, we'll do it,” she says, before you can even open your mouth.

“Oh, I-” you pause for a moment. You had been fully intending to dodge the chore, but now you can't without looking like an ass and leaving her alone to do dishes.

Vi stands up and picks up the nearest stack of dirty dishes, balancing them on her arms as she turns to you. She shoots you a look, like she's daring you to try and weasel out of helping.

You get the hint, shaking your head and standing up. This is absolutely the last thing you want to do right now.

You follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a few more dishes along the way.

She holds the kitchen door open for you, and you step into the little kitchen with its small stone countertops and simple appliances. You set the dishes down on the counter near the sink, turning to find Vi already rolling up her sleeves.

She's not looking at you, but when she starts to roll up the left side of her shirt sleeve, you swear you can see her eyes dart over to you for a split second.

You pause, staring at the side of her face. You can't tell if she's... no, you must be imagining things. 

She clears her throat, raising one eyebrow. “What, you're not gonna help?”

“No, no, I am,” you hurriedly say.

You're not going to look at her. Not at the way her forearm flexes when she reaches down to turn on the water, not at the way she bends over to grab some dish soap, and definitely not at the way her shirt tightens across her shoulders.

Yeah, you're definitely not going to look at her. Not at the way her fingers move when she soaps up the dishes, not the way her biceps flex when she bends her elbow, and especially not at the way her hair falls into her face when she scrubs at a stubborn stain.

Why is she so fit?

You look down at your own hands, watching the water and soap bubble up between your fingers. You start washing another dish, trying your absolute hardest to look anywhere except at her.

The minutes tick by in awkward silence, but eventually, your mind starts to wander. After all, washing dishes is pretty damn boring.

You glance over at her again, out of the corner of your eye, watching the way her shoulder blades shift under her shirt. The fabric of her shirt is stretched taut against her shoulders, and you wonder what she looks like under it if she still has all the same muscles....

Yeah, okay, you really have to stop staring at her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Well, so much for not looking at her. Your head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and you force yourself to just focus on scrubbing at the glass in your hands. 

“Depends what the question is,” you grumble, shifting a little.

You expect her to ask you something about your current life or something generic. What happened when you were gone, what life was like where you were?

Instead, she asks something completely left-field.

“Do you ever think about us?”

You tense up, the glass in your hands slipping a little in your grip. You were not expecting that question. Hell no, you were literally not expecting that question.

How are you supposed to answer that? yes? no? sometimes?

What was she even expecting to hear? did she want you to say yes, to say that you always thought about her, that you would've come back to her in a heartbeat if you could've? or did she just want to hear you say no, to hear that you moved on, that you had to move on because it was either that or let yourself fall apart?

‘Sometimes’ was definitely not the answer you would've given months ago.

Now, though? you would admit that sometimes, after a rough morning or a particularly lonely night, you'd let yourself think about her. You'd remember those nights you spent in her apartment, on her shitty couch, talking her ear off about everything and nothing, the nights where the two of you would sit on the couch and watch tv, her head resting on your shoulder, and you'd wonder if maybe... just maybe..

You wonder if she thinks about that kind of stuff too, if you cross her mind late at night when she's alone. You wonder if she still thinks about the nights where you would stay in bed together, talking for hours after a particularly good round, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair, or the mornings where you'd wake up and find her making breakfast for you.

Yeah, you thought about her a lot.

But you couldn't say that to her. You can't tell her that you think about it all the time, about how sometimes you can't fall asleep because you miss the feeling of laying in bed with her, about how you always find your hands searching for her in the middle of the night. No, you absolutely cannot tell her that, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I used to,” you say instead of letting your thoughts wander any farther. “Not anymore.”

You keep scrubbing, even after there's no longer any more dirt on the glass. Just so you have a reason not to look at her, just so you have a shield from the thoughts you know are brewing in her mind.

She's quiet, and you can feel her looking at you. Looking at you, reading you, trying to figure out if you're telling the truth or not.

After a few moments, she takes a breath like she's going to speak, but then stops herself. It's something you're all too familiar with. She's overthinking something, that much is obvious. She's trying to pick her words carefully, and damn, you just wish she'd spit it out.

The silence feels like it's been going on for a year, but really, it was only around a minute. Your knuckles are turning white from how tightly you're gripping the glass you're washing, and your shoulders are beginning to ache from how tense you are.

“What about you?” you murmur. “Do you... do you think about us?” You force yourself to look over at her, and you instantly wish you hadn't.

She's not looking at you now, she's not watching you suspiciously or anything like that. No, instead she's looking down, staring at the soapy water, and avoiding eye contact with you.

She's quiet for a second, her hands pausing in their scrubbing. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I do.”

Her answer goes straight to your gut and twists deep inside you. You were absolutely expecting a solid “no”, hell, you were even preparing yourself for a cruel “god, no.”

Anything, anything other than “I do.”

She continues scrubbing at a plate as if she hasn't just turned your world upside down. How are you supposed to react to her answer? do you say something, do you not say something?

“Why?” the question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Why do you think so?”

You don't say anything, you just shrug your shoulders. You genuinely don't know. You'd just blurted out the question without actually knowing what you wanted the answer to be.

Her eyes linger on yours for a few seconds, and you can't quite read them. She looks like she wants to say something, she looks like she wants to reach out and hold you, and you'd bet real money that if circumstances were different, she would've done exactly that.

Instead, she just averts her gaze back to the sink and lets out a sigh. “I don't know... I just do.”

You go back to scrubbing dishes. It's obvious there are a million things that you want to say, that you need to say.

“Oh,” is all you say in response, and the word hangs in the air awkwardly.

You're both quiet after that. It's quiet, except for the faint music playing in the background and the sounds of dishes clinking against one another.

A few times, you catch yourself glancing over at her, trying to pick up any hint of what she could be thinking, what she might say next. But, every time, she stubbornly keeps her eyes down on the dishes she's scrubbing. It's frustrating, the way she just won't look at you, and what pisses you off most is the fact that you understand why she won't look at you.

You have a feeling that if she were to look at you, if she were to meet your eyes right now, she'd either burst into tears or shove you into a storage closet and kiss you until your lungs burned.

You don't know which one would be worse.

It's so quiet, so awkward. You're both just scrubbing and scrubbing, refusing to look at the other.

Every time she takes a breath, you look over at her, convinced she's about to speak. But, time and time again, she doesn't, and the only sound to come from her is a shaky exhale.

It's maddening.

The sound of Claggor's voice finally breaks the stifling silence, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He peeks his head into the kitchen, grinning widely. “Yo, you two almost done here? Powder is about to get impatient.”

You're thankful for the interruption, and judging by the look on Vi's face, so is she.

“Yeah, we're done,” Vi says, glancing up from the dish she's been washing for the last ten minutes.

You dry your hands off on a nearby towel, trying to look unaffected. “We're finished.” 

Claggor grins again, “Thank God, Powder is about to start biting people.” He laughs, then disappears back into the main room.

“That sounds like her.” She chuckles, scrubbing her hands off on a towel.

“Guest we should head out there then,” you say, trying to get her to actually look at you.

She hesitates, still running the towel over her hands even though they're no longer wet. She looks down for a moment as if she's contemplating something, then finally lifts her head to look at you.

Her jaw is tense like she's forcing herself to stay quiet. After a few seconds, her features soften a little. “Yeah.”

You want to ask her what she's thinking, you want to ask her why. Instead, you just push the door of the kitchen open and gesture for her to go first.

—

“Now that we've had an amazing dinner, it's time for the best part of the night.”

Everyone gathers around, now sitting either on the couch or on the floor. Powder and Mylo immediately get squished together on the floor. Powder mutters under her breath, “Hey! you're shoving me!”

“Only because you're taking up too much space.”

Vander smiles from his spot on the couch. “Alright! It's time for secret santa. Everyone remembers who they drew, right?”

A group of nods and hums go around as everyone pulls out the slips of paper that have the names they drew.

Vander clasps his hands together. “Good!” he says as he looks around the room, his smile getting wider. “Who wants to go first?”

A few seconds of silence, then Powder’s hand shoots up. As always, she's the most excited one. “me!”

Vander laughs. “Well, look at that, our little girl is so eager. Okay, you can go first, Pow-Pow.”

Powder smiles and scrambles off the floor, almost tripping over herself as she pulls a present from beneath the Christmas tree. She glances down at the tag and grins.

She then scans the room with a giddy smile, then her eyes land on Silco. She bounds over to him, practically shoving the present into his hands as she sits down on the floor next to his legs. 

Silco smiles faintly as he takes the present. “Alright, let's see what you got me, hm?” He's quiet as he carefully unwraps the present, and Powder watches him who barely contains her excitement.

After a moment, the wrapping paper is set aside, and the present is now fully unwrapped. It's just a little box, though Silco is curious as to what's inside.

He glances at Powder as he takes the lid off the box, looking a little wary. Powder just grins at him. “Go on, open it,” she encourages.

He looks back at the box and, with a nod, reaches in and pulls out the item inside. He holds it in his hands and looks at it curiously, then looks at Powdr with a raised eyebrow.

She's still grinning, and she looks extremely pleased with herself. Mylo glances over to look and snorts out a laugh. “Would you look at that?”

Silco looks at the item in his hands, then looks at Powder again. “You got me…” he begins, trying to sound unimpressed. “...a shark plushie?”

Powder nods, her grin getting wider. “Yep!” she exclaims, “I got you a little shark plushie. You like it, right?”

Silco glances at the plushie and then at her again, looking vaguely fond. He carefully sets it down on his lap, then smiles. “I adore it.”

Her grin somehow widens even more. 

Silco chuckles, then looks around. “Who's next?”

Claggor shrugs, raising a hand. “I'll go,” he offers, to which Vander nods.

“Go ahead, Claggs,” he says approvingly.

Claggor gets to his feet from his spot on the floor, then moves to the tree. He crouches down and rummages around, looking for the present with the correct name tag.

A minute passes as a few minutes go by. He eventually stands back up, a small present in his hands. He looks around the room, then his eyes land on Mylo, who's now lying down on the floor and looking very bored.

Claggor moves over to him, tossing the present into his lap. Mylo looks up and catches the present, shooting him a glare. “You couldn't have done that a little nicer?” he complains while sitting up.

Claggor just shrugs and gives him a flat look. “Suck it up,” he tells him bluntly before sitting back down.

Mylo scoffs and begins to unwrap the present, ripping the wrapping paper off carelessly. He tosses the wrapping paper away, then looks down at the present as he tears the box open. He's quiet for a moment, looking at the contents...

..and then he groans, covering his face.

“Oh, come the hell on,” he grumbles, though he sounds more whiny than anything else. He glances up from his hands to give Claggor a withering look. “Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

Mylo just sighs, shooting the toy in the box with a dismayed look. “Really? a stress ball?”

Claggor shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea,” he says, clearly not bothered by Mylo's unimpressed tone. “And you seem to be lacking a bit in the stress management department.”

“Well, excuse me for being a bit stressed when you're being a dick.”

“See, you need the stress ball. You proved my point right there.”

Mylo just groans and throws his head back. He picks up the stress ball and squeezes it hard. “I hate you.”

Claggor merely grins. “I love you too.”

Mylo mutters something under his breath, too quiet for anyone to hear, then looks up as he addresses the group. “So, who's up next? I'm sure there's some poor sap itching to go.”

Silco raises a hand. “I'll go next,” he offers.

Everyone glances at him, then nods and gestures for him to go. He gets up off the couch and saunters to the tree. He scans the presents beneath it, moving a few aside to find the one he was looking for.

He finally finds it and smirks to himself, grabbing the present and standing up. His eyes sweep over the group. He then turns and walks over to Vander, holding the present out to him.

Vander glances at the present, then at Silco, taking the present and curiously giving it a little shake. “What is it?” he asks curiously.

Silco just grins in a vaguely irritating way and sits back down. “Just open it,” he replies, his voice dripping with innocence.

Vander raises an eyebrow but begins to unwrap the present meticulously, occasionally shooting Silco a glance, as if expecting something. He peels away the wrapping paper to reveal a small box, then looks at Silco, his eyes questioning.

Silco just shrugs and gestures for him to go on. Vander quirks another eyebrow up but opens the box anyway, now intrigued.

Then a snort finally escapes him. He's now fighting to hold back laughter.

Mylo sits up suddenly, looking at Vander, then at Silco, curiosity in his eyes. “What? What is it?” he asks eagerly.

Vander doesn't answer for a moment. He's still staring into the box, looking like he can't believe what he's seeing. He looks up at Silco. “Please tell me you're joking,” he implores.

Silco's smile widens. “I couldn't be more serious,” he replies.

Vander lets out a long, suffering sigh, then digs through the tissue paper and pulls something out of the box.

It's a pair of comically large underwear, one that could practically fit an entire person inside of it.

Vander groans, holding the underwear up and staring at them with slight disgust.

Mylo and Powder both start laughing once they register what the present is. Powder laughs so hard she nearly falls over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.

Vi's eyes widen at the sight of the underwear, her mouth dropping open a little in surprise. As much as it pains her to admit it... she just knows the jokes that Silco is going to start making any minute now.

…and she's right.

“You see, I thought it was a necessary gift.”

“Necessary?” Vander repeats, still holding the underwear up in disbelief.

Silco nods. “Of course. you're getting old, and as you get older... accidents happen.”

“I'm not that old,” Vander grumbles, though he knows it's probably not the best argument.

Silco smirks, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Oh, you know what I mean. Things begin to... fail as you age. I simply wanted to make sure you had a spare pair.”

Mylo is now practically rolling on the floor, clutching his sides. “Oh, my god, I can't breathe—this is—this is gold,” he wheezes. Powder is laughing so hard she's choking, practically coughing her lungs up.

Vander looks down at the underwear in his hands. He looks like he wants to throw it into the fire and destroy it right there. He glances up at Silco, giving him a look that clearly says, 'I will get you back for this'.

Silco leans back against the couch and crosses an ankle over his knee. “What? You don't like them? I personally thought they were a good choice.”

Vander opens his mouth to reply, but Powder interrupts him.

“Oh, god,” Powder chokes out, “you should try them on. They'd look perfect on you.”

Vander shoots Powder a glare to kill. “No way in hell,” he mutters firmly, folding his arms and sitting back.

But Powder's not done. “Come on, just try them on,” she wheezes. “It really would be a look for you.”

Vander turns his glare to Powder, his expression clearly saying, 'I will murder you if you keep talking.' “No,” he replies through gritted teeth.

Even Silco is starting to look amused.

“Just for a second,” she teases, “come on, just long enough for us to see. We won't even say anything.”

Van shoots a sneering look at both Silco and Powder. Eventually he lets out an exasperated grumble and stands up, mumbling something he heads into the bathroom with the underwear.

Mylo falls back onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

Silco is laughing too, watching as Vander heads to the bathroom to change.

Mylo is dying of laughter, gasping for air in between wheezes. “Holy shit,” he chokes out. “He's really doing it.”

It takes a few minutes, but the bathroom door swings open and Vander exits, looking like he regrets every decision he's made that led him to this. His face is as red as a tomato as he stomps back over to them in the gigantic underwear.

Mylo and Powder are losing it again, falling over and rolling on the floor with laughter.

Silco is smiling, trying to stifle a laugh. “Oh my,” he says, barely containing his amusement. “They look even better than I imagined.” 

Vander can hardly look anyone in the eye, still red with embarrassment. “I hate you. I hate you all.”

Claggor looks at Silco and Powder, clearly trying not to laugh. “You guys are terrible,” he says, a trace of a smile on his face.

Vi can't hold back her laughter anymore, she's grinning from ear to ear. “You look... perfect,” she comments through a strangled chuckle.

Vander turns his glare on her. “I hate you all,” he repeats, shaking his head.

Powder is still giggling from the floor. “I want pictures.” She holds up her phone.

Vander looks like he wants to smack her head off. “Absolutely not. I forbid it,” he snaps, sounding as serious as someone wearing comically large underwear can.

Powder just pouts, lowering her phone. “Oh, come on,” she says with a whine, looking up at Vander with puppy-dog eyes. “Just a few.”

“No, I'm not having pictures of me in these... embarrassing things circulating the internet.”

“The internet? Who said anything about the internet?” she replies, a smirk on her face. “I just meant... a few for my own personal, um, research.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Silco chimes in first. “Oh, come on. Humor her. It's the season of giving.”

Vander turns his glare to Silco. “There's no way in hell—”

“Pleeeease?” Powder interrupts, holding out her phone again.

Vander looks like he's about to argue, but Powder is already giving him those damn puppy-dog eyes that he struggles to resist. He hesitates, then, with a grumble, he sighs. “Fine, one picture.”

Powder looks like a kid on Christmas. The instant the word 'picture' leaves Vander's mouth, she leaps to her feet and lifts up her phone. “Stand up straighter.”

Vander obeys, reluctantly straightening up.

“Say cheese.”

Vander grunts, but he cooperates. “Cheese,” he mutters, putting on a strained smile.

Powder snaps the picture, then lowers her phone and looks at it with a satisfied smile. “Oh yeah, you're getting on the naughty list for this one,” she grins, wiggling the phone a little.

Once the picture-taking is over and Vander changes his clothes back, Silco motions for Powder to settle down. 

“Alright, settle down. It's time to continue with the secret Santa,” Silco says, looking at the others.

They all nod in agreement, still snickering but mostly focusing on the present exchange.

“Who wants to go next?” Silco asks, looking around the group.

Mylo looks around, then grins. “My turn.”

Powder rolls her eyes, knowing that look on his face all too well. “Here we go,” she says, preparing herself for whatever nonsense Mylo is about to come up with.

Mylo smirks, holding up his present. “Well, I drew someone's name... and it was a pretty easy choice.” He then looks around the group with mock innocence. “Oh, where's my victim?”

Claggor sighs. “Who exactly is the unlucky person this year?”

“There's only one person who I could have possibly chosen…”

“Would you just spit it out before the suspense kills me?” Powder snaps, impatient.

Mylo huffs. “Jeez, have some patience. Anyway, my secret santa is…”

Claggor puts his head in his hands, bracing himself.

“My secret santa is, drumroll please…” They reluctantly drum their hands against any surface near them.  “My very special secret Santa is…”

Mylo grins, looking from face to face, savoring the moment before he does the big reveal.

“My secret Santa... is Powder!”

“Fuck!” She groans, burying her head in her hands.

“Aww, what's the matter, Pow?” Mylo grins, holding up the wrapped present.

Powder lets out another groan, glaring up at him. “You're the worst,” she mutters, looking like she's praying to any god out there to just put her out of her misery already.

Mylo grins, getting a kick out of her misfortune. “Come on, don't be like that. It could be worse, I could have gotten you a box of spiders,” he teases, shaking the present in her direction.

Powder looks like she's seriously considering that as a better option. “You know what? Give me the spiders. Spiders would be better than whatever it is you got me.”

“Nice try. You're not getting out of it that easily,” he says, holding the present just out of her reach. “You have to open it, come on.”

Powder grumbles in protest, then reluctantly reaches out for the present. She snatches it out of his hands, shooting him a glare. “If I die from this, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of your life,” she mutters, slowly tearing the wrapping paper.

Then, Powder tears back the last piece of wrapping paper, revealing a plain black box. “What the hell is this?”

“You're going to have to open it and see for yourself.”

Powder grumbles, giving Mylo a glare that could freeze hell over. She slowly opens the black box, not sure what to expect. “...Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” 

The others lean in closer, curiosity getting the better of them.

“You did not get me what I think you got me.”

“Oh, you're going to have to be more specific than that,” he replies, trying to hide his smirk.

Powder glares at him, her jaw clenching. “You know what I'm talking about,” she snaps, looking like she's contemplating dumping the contents of the box over his head.

Mylo just shrugs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.” 

Vander just rubs his face with one hand, knowing that this situation is about to spiral out of control.

“You're telling me,” Powder hisses, “that you didn't get me exactly what I think you got me?”

“Like I said, you'll have to be a bit more specific,” he responds, looking too smug for his own good.

Powder looks like she's about to explode. “Mylo, I swear to-”

Claggor cuts her off, knowing that she's about to blow her top. “Calm down, Powder,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I'll calm down when the box goes straight over his head.”

“Why so angry? I thought you'd be excited.”

“I can't wait to make you eat that box.” 

“Oh, I'm so scared.”

Vander interjects, trying to diffuse the tension. “That's enough. No need to start throwing things around.”

“I was just having fun.”

“Yeah, have fun with a black eye.”

“Enough,” Silco says, giving both Powder and Mylo stern looks.

Both Mylo and Powder grumble, reluctantly backing down a bit.

“Can we all just get back to opening presents, please?” Vander asks, exasperated.

The others nod in agreement, though Powder still looks like she's not done with Mylo yet. She glares at him one last time before reluctantly returning to her seat.

Mylo just grins, clearly enjoying having gotten the last word in. He takes his own seat next to Claggor.

The others exchange glances, silently agreeing to not let Powder and Mylo be too close to each other for the rest of the evening.

Silco clears his throat, getting everyone's attention. “Now, who's next?” he asks, looking around the room.

Vander nods, leaning back in his seat. “I'm up next, I guess.” He rummages at the gifts under the Christmas tree. After a few moments of searching, Vander finally finds the present he was looking for. He picks it up, holding it in his lap. “This one's for you,” he says, handing the present to Claggor.

Claggor takes the present, looking curious. He glances down at it, then looks up at Vander with a smile. “Thanks,” he says, starting to unwrap it.

Once the wrapping paper is off, Claggor is holding a box of assorted tools. They range from pliers to wrenches to screwdrivers.

“Just like you requested,” Vander says, watching as Claggor starts inspecting the tools.

“Wow, these are great. Thanks, dad,” he replies, running a hand over the tools in the box.

Vander smiles, pleased to see that Claggor likes his present. “I thought you'd like them. I saw them at the pawnshop the other day and figured you could use them.”

“I definitely will. These are a huge upgrade compared to what I have now.”

Vander reaches over and pats Claggor on the shoulder. “You deserve it. You've been working your ass off lately.” He looks around the room, looking for the next person to take their turn. “Alright, who's up next?” 

Mylo's head suddenly snaps up, a smirk on his face. “Oh goodie, it's Vi's turn.”

“Come on, Vi, your turn,” Silco says, looking a little amused.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses,” she mumbles, getting to her feet and making her way over to the christmas tree.

Vi crouches down, rummaging through the presents. After a few moments, she finally finds the present. She grabs it, standing back up. She looks over at you, looking like she's been caught doing something she's not supposed to do.

She makes her way over to where you're sitting, holding out the present. “Here, this one's for you.” 

You take the present from her, looking down at it. It's heavy in your hands, the wrapping paper slightly crinkled from how hard she was holding it. “Thanks, Vi/” You look up at her.

“Don't mention it, babe,” she mutters, her voice strained.

Powder and Mylo both let out a chorus of ‘aww’ when they heard her use the nickname.

“Shut up, you two,” she says, glaring at them both.

You start unwrapping the present, tearing off the wrapping paper to reveal what's inside.

Once the wrapping paper is off, you're holding a small box. It's plain, made of brown cardboard, and doesn't look like much. But as you look back up at Vi, you can see a hint of nervousness on her face.

She's watching you intently, her expression anxious. 

Still curious, you glance back down at the box in your hands. You lift off the lid, opening it slowly.

There, nestled in a bed of tissue paper, is a necklace. It's a silver chain with a small silver heart pendant. It looks delicate and beautiful, and judging by the look on Vi's face, she spent a lot of time picking it out.

You slowly reach into the box, lifting the necklace out of the tissue paper. You hold it up, letting the chain dangle from your fingers. It glints in the light, the pendants catching the glow from the Christmas tree lights.

Vi is still watching you, her eyes fixed on the necklace. “Do you like it?”

You look up from the necklace, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I do,” you respond. “...It's beautiful.”

You hold the necklace in your hand, running your thumb over the pendant. Without even thinking, you reach up and clasp the necklace around your neck.

It fits snugly against your skin, the pendant resting on your collarbone.

You look up, catching Vi watching you as you adjust the necklace. “Looks good on you.” 

“Thanks,” you reply, still running your thumb over the pendant.

Mylo and Powder both let out another chorus of ‘aww’ clearly touched by the sight.

Vi shoots them another glare, her eyes narrowing. “Would you two shut up, for Christ's sake?”

“Oh, come on, sis. It's cute” Powder teases.

“Ah, young love,” Silco says. 

Vander chuckles, nodding his head. “I remember my younger days.”

“Don't you mean your younger hookups?” 

Vander grins, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.”

Silco laughs, shaking his head. “Some things never change.” Then, he glances around the room, looking for who's turn it is next. “Lasty, who's next?” 

You look around, seeing that almost everyone has given out their gift. It's obvious that your turn is next. “I'm up next.”

You get to your feet, making your way over to where the presents are. then you hold the present in your hands, not looking up quite yet. You can feel Vi's eyes on you.

This is it. You take a deep breath and look up, meeting her gaze. 

You walk over to her, your heart beating faster. You feel nervous, but you try to push it down. You stop in front of her, holding out the present. “Here you go, babe.” 

Vi's expression softens, her eyes darting down to the gift in your hands. She reaches out and grabs it, looking slightly puzzled.

You watch silently as she unwraps the gift. 

“Is this... a sweater?” she asks, bewildered. It's clearly hand-knit, with uneven stitching and a clashing color scheme.

“I made it myself,”

“You made it? Like, with your own two hands?”

“Obviously...”

“I mean... it's…”

“It's hideous?” you suggest.

She winces, like she can't deny it. “Yeah, kinda…” 

“Hey,” you say, mock-indignant. “I spent a lot of time making that, you know.”

“I can tell.”

“Then, try it on.”

Vi hesitates, looking at you warily. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You nudge her. “Just try it on… for me.”

She sighs, realizing there's no way out of this. “Fine.”

She pulls it over her head, struggling to get her arms through the sleeves. The fit is awkward, and the sweater seems too small. But somehow, it kind of makes her look... cute?

She tugs at the sleeves, looking down at herself. “How do I look?” 

You pretend to look her over, like you're seriously considering the question. “I dunno,” you reply. “it's... something.”

“Be serious. I look like an idiot, don't I?”

“Don't be like that” you tease, reaching out to straighten the collar of the sweater. “It's not that bad.”

“Not ‘that bad?’” she repeats. “Are you kidding? I look like a walking Christmas tree.” She groans, tugging at the sleeves again.

“I think you look…” cute. adorable. “Fine” “That's the best you've got? 'fine?'”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know… Something more than just ‘fine’”

“Okay, okay, let me rephrase that, you look…” beautiful, cute, adorable. “...very christmas-y”

“You really know how to boost a girl's ego.”

“I didn't realize you needed your ego stroked.”

“I don't,” she protests, flustered. “I'm just saying, a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.”

Silco clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “Ahem, now that the present giving is concluded…”

Silence falls over the room as everyone waits for Silco to speak. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock is the only sound that can be heard.

Silco glances at the clock, a smile on his face. “It appears to be midnight,” he says, pausing for emphasis. “Which means…”

A chorus of “Merry Christmas!” rises up from the group, everyone sounding festive and cheerful. 

You look back to Vi, who is still fiddling with the sweater. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper, not wanting the others to hear.

She glances at you, a smile touching her lips. “Merry Christmas to you too,” she replies, her voice just as quiet as yours.

Awkwardly you glance down at the carpet, unsure of what to say next. 

“Hey,” she says suddenly. “Can I talk to you for a second…? In private?”

“Sure,” you agree, following her as she leads you away from the group.

She leads you into a small back room, closing the door behind her. The room is dimly lit, with only a few bare light bulbs lining the walls. Aside from a few boxes and some old crates, the room is empty.

She turns to face you, leaning against the wall. She's quiet for a moment, her gaze averted to the floor. you can tell she's trying to find the right words, fiddling with the hem of the sweater again.

“Listen,” she begins, finally meeting your eyes. “I know this is weird, and I know things are... difficult right now. But…” She pauses. “I just want to say one thing…”

“Go on,” you encourage.

“I…” she starts, then falters. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her gaze drops to the floor. “Well, I just…” her fingers fumble at the edge of her sweater. “I just... I miss you.”

Your heart skips a beat as she finally says the words out loud.

You've been wanting her to say that for weeks, months even. After everything that's happened between the two of you, you desperately wanted to hear those very words fall from her lips. But now that she's saying it...

What the hell do you say to that?

You're speechless, stunned into silence by her honesty. You open your mouth, intending to say something. But words seem completely lost to you at this point. You just stand there, staring at her, dumbfounded.

“Say something,” she says. “Say anything. You're just staring at me like an idiot.”

“I don't know what to say.” Because, you really don't know what to say. You have so much you want to say, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat.

“Say you hate me. Say you never want to get back together. Just... say something.”

She's waiting. Waiting for something, anything. An opinion, a response. Anything from you. But what can you say? Do you tell her the truth—that you've missed her so much you can't even sleep at night? that the last month has felt like a living hell, having no contact with her?

You want to tell her that you hate her for throwing you away just to come back around wanting something from you again, but your tongue feels like cotton.

“Say something… yell at me, curse me out, anything!”

But her tone gets under your skin, and suddenly you feel the anger start to build inside of you. 

Who does she think she is, demanding a response from you? she's the one who tossed you aside without a second thought. You're sick of this. You've done everything for her, given her everything she wanted, and here she is, pushing you for more.

It is too much—all too much. Without a word, you turn from her, heading toward the door. You can't do this anymore. 

You hear her call out your name as you shove open the door, but you don't stop. You make your way back, stopping at Vander's side. “Vander, I'm going to head out.”

Vander nods, giving you a knowing look. He can tell something's going on, but he's wise enough not to press the issue. “Alright, kid,” he says gruffly. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod your head, forcing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I'll try,” you say, giving him a wave before starting towards the exit.

When you pass by Silco, he gives you a curious look. You catch his gaze and give him a nod.

Finally, you make your way out the front door. The cold night air hits your face, making you shiver. You take a breath, preparing yourself for the walk home.

But then you hear the door swing open behind you, her footsteps hurry after you. “Wait!” her voice calls out. “Wait, stop!”

You keep walking, your steps quick. You're trying to get as far away from her as possible to outrun all of the feelings that came rushing back to you—

“Let me walk you home.”

Her words cut through your thoughts. You falter, your steps slowing down.

You stop walking, turning around to face her. “What?”

She's standing there, looking like a kicked puppy. Her shoulders are slumped, her expression sheepish. She can tell you're not happy she's followed you out here, but she looks like she doesn't care.

She lets out a huff, her breath coming out in a white cloud in the cold air. “I just... look, whatever happened in there, whatever happened between us... just let me look out for you. Just let me walk you home. I.. I have to know you're safe.”

“I don't need a babysitter.” You practically growl, your irritation obvious. “I can handle myself.”

Vi flinches at your words, but she doesn't back down. If anything, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “I know you can,” she says. “I'm not offering to babysit you. I'm just... I'm just asking to walk you home.”

You glance back at the entrance of their house, the warm lights and sounds spilling out into the cold night air.  You turn back to look at her, your voice softer this time. “You don't have to walk me home. We don't have to keep up the act anymore, I'm going home and... you've got better things to do than worry about me.”

“Screw the act. I'm walking you home. It's not up for debate.”

You stare at her, baffled by her insistence. “Seriously? What's the point, Vi? We're not together anymore. Why bother?”

Her jaw clenches, her shoulders tensing. You know she hates this. She hates hearing you say it. Her heart is on her sleeve, and you're tearing pieces out of it, right in front of her.

“Because I care!” she snaps. “Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but I still care about you.”

You shake your head, scoffing at her words. “No, no, no, you don't get to act like you care now. You're the one who broke up with me. You're the one who walked away and left me.”

“I made a mistake,okay? I was a damn idiot, and I screwed up.”

“A mistake?” you echo, scoffing again. “You ended everything, and now you want to walk me home? What, you think that makes up for everything? You think it’s that easy? You threw away everything we had like it meant nothing, like all those months we spent together meant nothing.”

Your voice is trembling with anger as you continue. “And then what did you do? You went around, throwing yourself at anyone that gave you a second glance, like I was nothing. Like I never meant anything to you. Yeah, I know all about that. So don't try to act like you actually care when you clearly didn't give two shits.”

She looks away, her jaw clenching. “I was trying to get over you. I was trying to push you out of my head and it hurts like hell. Every night, every morning, it was like there was a hole inside of me, and no matter how hard I tried to fill it, no matter how many times I went out, how many times I tried to forget you, nothing worked. You were stuck in my head, and I hated it.”

She takes a step closer to you. “I know it sounds stupid. I know it doesn't make any sense. I just... I needed something to distract me, something to keep me from thinking about you. Because it hurt too damn much to think about how much I messed things up.”

“Yeah, congrats. You did a damn good job at distracting yourself, huh? It sure as hell didn't take you very long to get over me.”

She winces again, the guilt written all over her face. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to reach out to you. How many times I thought about coming back to you and begging you to take me back.”

“But you didn't,” you say. “You didn't reach out to me, you didn't try to fix things. So why should I believe you now? Why should I believe that you're sincere when you didn't care enough to fight for us before?”

She looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “What was I supposed to do?” she whispers. “I messed up. I messed things up and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to take back what I did, how to make things like they were before I messed up. All I know is that I miss you. I miss you so damn much, and I'd do anything to have you back.”

You swallow hard. Everything she's saying, it's everything you've wanted to hear for months. It feels like a dream.

But you can't let yourself fall back into this. Not when you've worked so hard to move on. Not when you've spent so many nights crying into your pillow, reminding yourself that she didn't care enough to fix things, to fight for you.

“Why now—Why do you want me back now, after all this time? Why didn't you want me back when it mattered, when I needed you?”

She looks up at you, desperation in her eyes. “Because I was an idiot! Because I was stupid, and scared, and I thought walking away would make it easier, but it just made it worse. Because I spent every damn night regretting that I let you go and wishing that I could take it all back. I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for what I put you through.”

“Sorry doesn't fix things,” you say, your voice shaking. “Sorry doesn't take away the pain, sorry doesn't undo what you did.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know saying sorry won't magically fix things, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for walking away, I'm sorry for everything I did wrong. Just... just give me a chance. Give me a chance to make things right.”

She takes another step forward, her eyes pleading. “Give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love you and that I want to make things right. If I screw up again, you can toss me to the curb and never speak to me again. But please, just give me one more chance.”

“I don't know,” you murmur. “I just... I don't know.”

“I'll do anything. I'll get on my knees every day if I have to. I'll beg on my hands and knees. I'll crawl on my hands and knees. I'll grovel on the ground. Just... please, just give me one chance.”

“I'll think about it. Just...just give me some time to think things over.”

“Okay, okay. I'll give you time or whatever you need. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”

Without hesitation, she envelops you in a tight hug. Her arms wrap around your waist, her face burying into your neck. Her body clings to you, every part of her desperate and needy. “I miss you so much,” she mumbles.

You stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. But then, your body betrays you, your arms slowly wrapping around her.

For the first time in a long while, you're holding her again. Her warmth, her scent, her touch—it’s all so familiar, so painfully familiar. So damn familiar that it hurts.

“I hate you.”

“I don't blame you.” She pulls back, her hands coming up to cup your face. She lifts her hand, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 

“I hate you so much,” you repeat, a tear falling down your cheek.

“I deserve that,” she says, her thumbs wiping away your tear.

“Damn right you do.”

You have no idea what to do or what to feel. Everything is a mess, and you're drowning in it.

For now, all you could do was hold her tight and bury your face in her shoulder. 

You hated how good she felt against you and how right it felt to be held by her. 

Damn her for making things so confusing, for making you feel so damn much.

You felt her hand rubbing your back, her fingers tracing circles over your skin. It was a soothing gesture, a silent apology for all the pain she had caused. It only made things worse, making your heart ache even more.

If only things had been different. If only she had been more communicative. If only she had been more sensitive to your feelings. If only she had been there for you when you needed her.

If only she hadn't walked away and left you broken. If only she hadn't hurt you the way she had.

And most of all, if only you had been strong enough to push her away and protect yourself from this mess.

But here you are, standing in the middle of a street wrapped in her arms. You felt like a fool, like a damn idiot, for still wanting her after everything.

You wanted to hate her, you wanted to make her suffer the way you had suffered.

But how could you hate her when she was looking at you like that? how could you hate her when she was holding you like this?

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she still had this kind of effect on you. 

Her eyes met yours, and you saw everything you had missed, everything you had longed for. and you knew, right then, that you were in damn trouble.

—

In the window, Vander and Silco watched you and Vi from afar, the soft glow of the christmas lights casting shadows over their faces.

Silco takes a drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around him as he exhales. “Your little plan worked quite well,” he says, looking at Vander with a sly smile.

Vander just shrugs, sipping his drink. “I don't know what you are talking about,” he replies, keeping his expression neutral.

“You're not fooling anyone.”

Vander hums, taking another sip of his drink. “I don't know what you mean,” he says again, keeping his gaze locked on you and Vi.

Silco let out a puff of smoke. “Don't play coy, Vander. You knew damn well what you were doing when you rigged that secret santa.”

“I may have had a little influence,” he admits.

“A little influence? oh, don't downplay it. You wanted them back together, and you knew exactly how to make it happen.”

“I have had a hunch that they still cared about each other,” he says, his voice casual. “And plus, I don't want to see Vi moping around for the past months.”

“And we couldn't have that, could we? seeing her moping around like a lovestruck puppy.”

Vander nods. “She was really terrible at hiding it,” he says. “always pacing around, always looking like she lost a puppy.”

Silco takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing rings into the air. “It was painful to watch,” he says, shaking his head.

“It was like watching a kid trying to hide a secret… I just hope they figure things out.”

“I agree,” Silco says, his eyes flickering over to you and Vi. “Hopefully they can work things out.”

“Only time will tell.”

They watch in silence, seeing how you and Vi are still holding each other.

“I still wouldn't forgive you for that damn underwear you got me.”

“That was the funniest thing you could have received.”

Vander grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Silco. “I do not find it funny to receive underwear as a gift.”

notes: idk what is happening

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room