#as if she ever goes away

[rigginsstreet]

Idk why yall upset about Margot being snubbed lily Gladstone is taking the award anyway

[fuumiku]

It was Maid Day today yesterday a week ago so I got struck by inspiration to draw the worsties, and it ran away from me into a whole AU where they’re coworkers at a maid cafe. She’s a med student & this is just a part time job, and this is his depression job while he gets his life back together. He needs something he can be workaholic about to forget what it’s like having a personal life and personal issues. He’s actually the accountant, but the new hire janitor (Izutsumi) doesn’t show up for half her shifts and is a sloppy worker, so he gets the extra work of doing her job on top of his because he’s undervalued and overworked. Of course, janitors also have an uniform to keep the aesthetic cohesion as they go about cleaning the place, of course.

Senshi’s the part time cook you only see slivers off, he’s kind and warm when you do see him and have a chat but most shifts he’s in and out the kitchen without a trace. Laios and Falin are regulars because Falin and Marcille are besties & in the same med school, Laios accompanies Falin as she visits her friend at work and gets hooked on the food. Chilchuck has to remind Marcille to work instead of chatting with Falin for an hour, and next thing he knows she’s distracting him from work too. That’s it that’s the AU. Inspired by this idol AU fanart a bit <3

This was not meant to be birthday gift but well…… Happy bday Chil!!!

Read from left to right

[leal-hound]

in another life i found you sooner

[egophiliac]

(it probably wasn't actually Idia's fault)

(or was it)

some quick initial reactions to celebrate Diasomnia Day One! it felt like a bit of a short intro, but oh, what a tasting menu of things to come.

[zeb-z]

can we talk about Phil and Jaiden today and their interactions after Jaiden finally shows her wings because I’m going crazy.

Jaiden showing off her wings for the first time to Phil, and Phil both happy for her and also insanely jealous, because why did she get to keep her wings, while his got clipped so badly he needs his backpack to counterbalance the weight he lost - or at least the weight he looses having to keep them close to his back.

and the whole time they’re talking in a group, hanging around spawn, Jaiden is perched somewhere above the group. up in a tree, moving from branch to branch, or against the wall, or right on the top of that lamppost. Phil, on the other hand, stays sat on the bench the entire time. grounded.

and every time Jaiden hops from perch to perch, he looks specifically at her. zooms in whiles she’s sat on the lamppost even as he continues conversation. its such a small detail but really helps punch in just how much Philza can’t let it go, can’t stop wishing that he could do the same.

[worstloki]

AU where Loki doesn’t interfere with Thor’s banishment at all and it takes Thor years to prove himself worthy and when he returns to Asgard everything is just. The same. Nothing seems to have changed at all and everyone greets him like his absence was a minor obstacle that didn’t fundamentally change Thor and the worst part is Loki stepped down from the place as regent without any delay and Thor can’t help but feel there’s something underlaying the way his brother looks at him now and won’t let him touch him and Thor doesn’t know what he could have missed because he doesn’t think he would have found anything wrong with the things around him and how everyone behaves if he hadn’t spent time on Earth reflecting.

[kagoutiss]

as if it was never there at all.

[seawitchkaraoke]

I am so obsessed with Erika's and Brennan's willingness to play incredibly emotionally charged fights between characters that love each other in deeply complicated ways, like the amount of trust this shit takes to do in an improv show? Was obsessed with it in burrows end, am obsessed with it now in misfits and magic, will be obsessed with it when they inevitably do it again in the coming Aabria dmed worlds beyond numbers story, these two (and especially Erika for being so so willing to play the heel) kill me everytime, I love them

[protagonist-art]

um doomed yuri ocs? yes pls !!!

this is post is Carrie focused! she's fucked up and evil and like rlly short...

[ehlnofay]

One day – as far-off as a century, as near as tomorrow – it will all be a grand old story.

The stories will speak of a handful of champions, rushing headlong against time and logic to save the world; the last Blades, the last Septim, and his hanger-on Hero, carving a bloody path to the Temple doors. The stories will tell of skies like burned blood, of fire and ash and uncountable legions of monsters – hundreds, thousands, millions, the quantity rising with each telling – the city streets cracked and quaking, every civilian locked up in their homes and businesses and praying for deliverance. The stories will tell of the appearance of Dagon, red-hot and roiling, a gory perversion of the sun; they’ll tell that when all seemed lost, Martin Septim sacrificed himself in a blaze of glory, calling down the avatar of Akatosh and casting Dagon and his ilk back whence he came. They’ll tell that the golden dragon threw back its head and roared, and the sky cleared and brightened at its word; they’ll tell how it petrified in place, a magnificent pillar of stone, a sacrosanct statue. A site of pilgrimage. A shrine, to the grace and glory of the gods, and the bravery and benevolence of the last Emperor, the best of men.

It will be a good story. All splendour and triumph, a bittersweet victory right out of the epics; the pages closed, the crisis done, the world saved in as golden a resolution as could be asked for. It doesn’t get better than this, a perfect saviour, a hallowed end.

What the stories won’t tell is how, under clear skies and sunlight, the Hero of Kvatch falls at the statue’s marbled feet and howls like the world is still ending.

“You fucking coward,” Pax is screaming, as best as she can. Her mouth tastes like smoke. Her voice is hoarse. “Stupid worm, fucking – selfish bastard – what’s wrong with you?”

His head is swimming, a bit; he shouldn’t have tried to stand, but he – but – he’s dragged himself up to the dais, just about, and managed to sprawl himself over the edge, a snail’s trail of blood smeared along the floor behind him. The copper tang of it is strong in his nostrils. The statue stands, proud and silent, one marble claw dug into the cracked stone of the rostrum. His whole body is beginning to ache – just because of a stupid stab wound in his side, he’d swear he’s had worse, it’s not that bad, it’s not that bad. His throat burns. He isn’t crying. He isn’t.

The sky is so fucking blue.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demands, again, and brings the heel of his hand thudding against the clawed foot hard enough that he feels the impact down his arm, through his blurry head. “Why would you – piece of shit – sorry spit-gill – I thought –”

None of their thoughts will go through to the end. “I thought,” Pax says again, and she’s not crying, and it hurts so much it’s looped back around to not hurting, and it’s all getting fuzzy at the edges, all the world narrowed down to this and this and this and all fucking hell she’d rather be anywhere, anything else. The statue is cold. Her throat is scraped raw. “Come back,” she’s begging without quite meaning to, “come back,” and she drives her palm into the stone again, and the pain sets her reeling.

And all hell, the sky is so blue; the statue enormous; and here they are, at its feet, vision blurring, staring up at its cold marble face. It’s so fucking tall, so proud, face tipped up towards the new-appeared sun, away from them.

“How could you?” Pax says, and then they can’t even see it anymore, blood unspooling from them like skeins of madder-dyed thread. Red has never been their favourite colour. The shape of the dragon, glowing like the sun, is fixed forever on the backs of their eyelids; gold, they think, is worse. The world is detached and floating about them. They taste smoke and then bile. Stone digs fierce into their spine.

It burned like the sun, the dragon; like all the divine light of Aetherius come to earth just to sear the moisture from her eyes. Where it clawed Mehrunes Dagon, his blood boiled; when it screamed, the world moulded itself to its call. Pax hadn’t known what was happening, while it happened; sure as shit doesn’t know now. What they do know is that he’s gone. What they do know is that the dragon didn’t look at them once. They don’t taste ash on their breath, now; just fear, stagnant, sour, blood jangling bitter in their veins and seeping out to soak their gambeson.

It doesn’t hurt, anymore, there’s just this spreading, vague numbness. It doesn’t feel like their body. It’s just a thing they’re putting on. Their ears are still ringing from the crashing-in of the Temple, but there’s a faint buzzing of noise outside. They might be dying. They can’t be assed to get up.

Skeeving asshole. They’re getting blood on the dragon’s immaculate feet. The hollow sounds of voices feels distant. Could well be worse.

Then, “… a healer, here!” they hear, much closer than anything else had been before, paired with the faraway thudding of the door, and “Pax. Pax! It’s – where’s –” and there’s hands on him, a cautious manipulation of his neck, a shifting of his legs. Pressure on his sternum, and then his stomach, and a pained grunt slips out of his mouth, bound up with a slurred curse.

“Stay calm,” says an unfamiliar voice, soft and steady. “I’m just accessing the wound.”

“Go away,” Pax says, or tries to say, but his voice is whispering-hoarse and the dragon looms in the dark even still. He could open his eyes, but what would be the point?

The hands stay on him even when he bucks, holding him steady; they whisper over the stab in her gut, pulling at the drying blood, mumbling words that she can’t be fucking bothered to listen to, one voice known to her already, one voice not; pressure again on the injury, and they try, half-heartedly, to breathe out a swear – and then light, copper-bright, behind their eyelids, and burning heat, and pain pain pain eclipsing all else as something inside them wrenches back into working order, and then their eyes are open and the sky is blue and they are very fucking aware, thank you.

Pax sits up, fast enough to send the world dizzily whirling, and shoves the mage-medic away from them.

“Piss off,” he says – and it’s still hoarse, smoke-throated and scraped raw, but there’s more bite to it this time, more sound. The strange hands fall away from his side, and he looks down. His gambeson is hanging open, cords untied, the emblem of the wolf split clean down the middle. His undershirt is rucked up around his chest, too, so much of his skin is bared to the clear, bright air; all to get to the wound tucked just under their ribs. It’s an underwhelming thing – smaller than they would’ve thought, a thin short slash like a very red mouth has opened itself up in their gut. It’s stopped dribbling quite so much blood, gone scabby with rough healing, though the stuff is still smeared all over their skin, damn near enough to bathe in. It’s barely anything, really. They’re barely even hurt.

“I’m not done,” says the mage-medic, all stern. The wound itches, the taste of hasty magic gone sour in the back of their throat with all the rest of it. “I might have to find my suturing needle. It isn’t too bad, but it can’t be healed all at once.”

“Piss off,” Pax repeats – and all fucking hell it hurts, and he’s sitting up against the statue, legs lolling. He’s dizzy. He ignores it.

Ocato – his fine clothes sooty, face tight as a wound-up spring – says, “Calm down, please – he’s a skilled healer, he knows what he’s doing.” His eyes keep skipping around the room like he’s searching for another enemy lurking hidden in the shadows. “What happened? Where’s the Emperor?”

Ah – not an enemy, then.

Pax tastes bile.

“Not very quick on the uptake, are you?” she says, elbow braced against the statue’s massive marble claws (she hates touching it, she hates it, she hates it, she wants to set it crumbling apart, she doesn’t want to let anyone else touch it ever again). She can’t stop leaning because then she might topple back down again. Fuck, she needs to keep her head on straight – or lose it altogether, whichever happens faster. Her fingers feel cold. “How’re you going to run an Empire when you’re this fucking clueless?”

Ocato looks them in the face; his brow, high and slanted in that way elves have, furrows. “You’re hurt,” he says, in a tone like he expects Pax to argue with him. “Martin Septim–”

“Can’t you see him?” Pax demands, tone torn in half and uglier than they’ve ever heard it before, and they slam the back of their hand against the stone for echoing emphasis. (They want to shatter all the bones in their knuckles, break every piece in their hand one by one, like wishbones. They want it bloody and bruising. They want to scratch its polished-smooth surface until their fingernails tear. They want – they want – they want –)

Ocato, the Empire’s de facto leader, says, “Ah.”

In his plummy robes, all fruit-rich and stained with ash, he looks very stark against the Temple’s cracked marble floors.

“The Avatar,” he says. “If – the Amulet – joined blood of kings and gods –”

“Ocato,” says Pax, leaning heavy against the statue’s hateful foot, “shut up.” Their voice is bowstring-taut; he looks at them, his eyes too golden to meet. His mouth twists. They tip their head back against the stone, glaring up at the chips of blue sky shown in the crater where the roof once was, and try hard to ignore the tugging ache hooked behind their ribs.

It really fucking hurts. Worse than it did before, maybe, like some gauzy veil has been ripped from it. A veil has been ripped from the world. All the colours are too-bright, hideous. Pax breathes, because there’s no alternative, and waits for the pain to ebb.

(It doesn’t, really.)

“The Gates are sealed,” Ocato says, slowly, and he’s looking at her again, she can see out of the edge of her eye. “We will speak later. I’ll have you put up in the Palace until you’re healed. Ah – Quintus, does –”

“As long as she doesn’t go back into shock,” says the mage-medic, busily flipping through some kind of supply bag at his belt, “her odds are good. Lost blood, but I don’t think anything important was too damaged – get a proper examination, all I did was give her a second wind. Stitches, rest, fluids should do it, with luck.”

“Can she stand?”

“Can or should are –”

“Shut the fuck up,” Pax snaps, “I’m right here.” Her back pressed against the cold marble of the statue, her plait half-loose and knotted, filled with ash. The sky is so fucking blue. It hurts like hell – if the healer took her out of shock, then shit, she wishes he’d put her back in. She can see in too much detail. She can feel the skin, damp and ragged and angry. She presses the heel of her hand to the injury; her palm is crusted with dust, tacky with the same half-dried blood streaked over the floors.

Ocato, in the edges of her vision, shifts, all a blur of rich clothes and sympathetic eyes and solemn voice turned soft like he’s talking to an easily spooked horse. “I know.”

The mage-medic clucks his tongue. “Let me take another look first,” he says, and takes a step forward –

Pax kicks out at him before he even gets close. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Pax,” says Ocato – and why, why the fuck is the Empire’s de facto leader here, now, babying them like a whimpering little puppy instead of anywhere fucking else, why is he bothering to talk to them all patronising soft, why does he care? They’ve barely fucking met – talked twice, if you can call either of those times talking. Is it because they’re the Hero of Kvatch? Is this what they’ve earned – a bit of leeway as they throw a tantrum, bleeding out at the marble feet of that stupid bloody statue? Ocato looks so fucking tired; Pax wants to hit him in the nose. “You need care.”

“I need –” and Pax chokes it off in a puff of air. The statue looms behind them. There’s blood on the floors. (Traitor liar coward come back come back I hate you come down I’ll knock your fucking teeth in stupid selfish fraud come BACK. LOOK AT ME.)

Pax closes his eyes.

“My gratitude,” Ocato says, “ – our gratitude for what you’ve done cannot be overstated. The Crisis if over. The gates are sealed. Mehrunes Dagon and his ilk can never threaten Tamriel again.”

The knobs of Pax’s braid are pressing uncomfortably against their scalp. They can hear footsteps, coming closer. They don’t respond.

“It’s a great shame we had to pay such a price,” Ocato says, and Pax would fucking love to know who’s we here, “but it’s done. Dagon is defeated. We’ve won.” He’s much too close, now; his voice pitches softer. “Martin – is dead. But he died an Emperor – and a hero to rival Tiber Septim.”

Pax shoves him.

It’s a good fucking shove – knocks him right to the ground, his elbow hitting the marble with a painfully audible crack, Pax standing over him, shirt rucked up, their handprint on his shoulder marked in blood. “You useless, prattling jackass!” they spit, hoarse, and deal a swift, savage kick to his side. “How dare you act like this is a victory! It should have been me!”

Then their head swims, and they’re sitting again on the edge of the dais, palm pressed to their side, the sweaty cloth of their gambeson pushed half off their shoulder and its cord biting into their hand. The mage-medic is kneeling over Ocato, who still lies, stunned; Pax can’t see his eyes, now, but they remember them, brassy with shocked fear. Their bow is off by the wall where they left it. Pax’s palms are sticky with blood. The sky is so fucking blue. No matter how hard she rages the dragon won’t look down at them.

By the time the mage-medic has helped Ocato up, they’re gone. The Kvatch guard gambeson remains, smoke-smelling and crusted with blood, left like an offering at the statue’s feet. The Hero of Kvatch is never seen again.

[rottengurlz]

lover, don't touch me // leave, i am a danger to you // but ooh, i hunger for you

[stuckinapril]

One day I’ll go through med school and then I’ll go through residency and then I’ll go through a fellowship and then I’ll be the most crybaby neurosurgeon you could think of. Bursting into tears if I so much as graze ur hypothalamus with my forceps

[theladyfae]

the lazarus experiment / her island, rita dove

[shiresome]

YOU CANNOT PRY MK VS DC FROM ME

[brekitten]

The Therapist

There's a new therapist at school.

Normally this wouldn't really bother Peter at all, since he's never gone to see a shrink in his life and doesn't ever plan on it, but there's something... off about this woman.

She seems unassuming enough at first glance. Red hair, green eyes, bright red lipstick. But there is something in her eyes, something that Peter can only describe as a predator looking at its next prey, when she looks around the school at all of the teenagers milling about. Heck, even the way she walks makes her seem as if she is a predator stalking her prey.

It could always be some kind of power move, Peter reasons. He's met people like that before, who try to intimidate everyone around them into thinking that they are superior, that they are the apex predator and anyone who dares to cross them would pay for it dearly.

But his Spidey Sense went crazy around her.

He tries to brush it off as paranoia. He'd pulled an all-nighter last night in the lab with Tony because neither of them had been able to sleep, and he hadn't been sleeping well even before that. (Funny, how it had all started the night after he first bumped into the new therapist in the halls.) So his Spidey Sense is probably out of wack because he's tired. Simple as that.

But it seems like everyone in the school is depressed. Even Ned, who can't even muster up the energy and enthusiasm to talk about Legos or Star Wars or even the weather. It worries Peter.

Because it all started when that therapist came to the school.

He can't ignore it forever, he knows that. There is only so long his Spidey Sense can tell him that she is danger danger danger before he finally listens. He has to do something to help everyone.

So he researches.

And he falls into the rabbit hole of ghosts and ectoplasm and secret government organizations and the little, unassuming town of Amity Park, Illinois.

He doesn't sleep that night.

When he comes to school the next morning, Dr. Penelope Spectra looks him dead in the eyes, and smiles.

[clowningaroundmars]

prowlerbyte hcs

ok..... yall got me. you did. i ship prowlerbyte now 😅 and i'd like to throw out some Thoughts about them bc damnit if this ship doesn't have some Flavor to it that i'd like to share with you all 🤌

both margo and miles g here are from earth 42 tho bc i think miles g has been thru Enough and he deserves someone in his corner in his own universe, besides his family members

LOTS of words under the cut ↓

♡ weirdgirl nerd x edgyboy nerd 100%… you just KNOW IT. miles is absolutely a geek either for comics or anime and he only opens up to his closest friends to let them see that side of him, no one else. margo brings that side out of him often when they meet up (but miles is still p reserved if anyone else is with them)

♡ margo is a fantastic singer and hums mind-blowing runs as easily as she breathes and miles absolutely loves it. when she's depressed, she sings a lot less so whenever she DOES sing that's how he knows she's in a good mood. he loves having her over bc he gets to pull out uncle aaron's old secondhand record player and place rnb and 90's hiphop vinyls on it, playing soulful music that she hums to as they parallel-play or do homework together

♡ when margo first convinced miles to let her do his hair, he was hella worried that his mom would disapprove and chastise him once she saw but she was surprisingly very supportive of it, although a bit hesitant. eventually she was grateful she didnt have to braid her son's hair as often (being a single parent is exhausting enough lol)

♡ rio42 ofc had the same reaction to margo as rio1610 when she 1st met gwen, but when margo eventually started showing up more and more to hang out with the morales fam (and aaron too lol), she grew on rio. they both keep a close eye on miles and try to keep him going towards the right path

♡ in their universe they both go to visions and even have a class together, and they are both very very academically competitive. rio doesn't need to stay on miles' ass about his grades bc margo is right there taunting him with an A+ on a test every single time

♡ they actually ACTUALLY study together in the library or in miles' room during study sessions. neither of them can afford to fall off wrt their grades and they both have big dreams they wanna achieve: margo wants to become a hardlight technician and apply for oscorp (much to miles' chagrin), and miles wants to continue his engineering and robotics career so he can provide for his whole family

♡ margo's parents constantly fighting means she is often over at miles' house more than he is at hers. it actually took her an embarrassingly long amount of time to finally invite him over because she never wanted her parents to know he even existed, let alone actually meet him at all. miles was at first kinda offended she didn't want him to meet her parents even after they got together but when he heard them arguing in the background during a call one day, he finally Understood

♡ after he found out about her crappy home life (and also secretly told rio), she was welcome to stay more often at his place. she has a blanket, a few clothes and several diff books and console games lying around in his room

♡ it honestly also took them both a ridiculously long time to finally start dating. everyone around them shipped them but they remained friends for a long time bc miles was just too closed off and scared to let anyone into his private life like that. also i hc they are both on the ace spectrum but don't realize it until later (listen i see purple characters and i HAVE to wave the ace wand on them ok 😭)

♡ margo is sometimes frustrated at miles for being so secretive and hiding his emotions behind walls, as goofy and dorky as he can be. she wishes he would just come out and be more honest about his feelings but understands that after his dad's passing, its harder for him to communicate his emotions

♡ she was the one who asked him out first, actually. he was beating around the bush way too much and so she finally put her foot down and initiated the relationship

♡ in public or with strangers they are: sunshine x sunshine protector. in private or with family n friends they are: "EXCUSE ME! miles asked for no pickles ☝️" esp since margo is the extrovert and he's the introvert.

♡ miles is actually p jealous and protective of margo and she finds that hilarious.

"i don't need any protecting, babe. i am a certified badass," margo says, flipping her box braids.

miles laughs, winding boxing wraps around his hands and standing in front of his giant punching bag. he looks over at his girlfriend sitting on a bean bag, with her adorable kitten t-shirt and fluffy sweater and grins even wider. "yeah… aight, sure thing."

margo scoffs, noticing his line of sight and looking very offended. "i may look cute and unassuming but that's exactly what i want our enemies to think! it gives me an advantage!"

miles hums, nodding. "mhm. advantage to do what, exactly?"

margo throws an empty soda can at him, which miles easily dodges as he laughs harder.

♡ it's funny, bc on the outside they seem like the stereotypical traditional straight relationship with a macho boy and sweetheart girl. but in reality they're both sarcastic snippy geeks who can both throw down in any verbal argument. and miles adores his gf, he's completely whipped for her. lets her paint his nails and everything, and if anyone tries to make fun of him for it, he doubles down and threatens to fight them over it

♡ they are THAT couple that wears lowkey matching outfits every once in a while. they actually enjoy shopping together which was a relief for both of them bc miles LIVES just to go sneaker shopping and margo absolutely loves trying new things on in the dressing room. theyre also both fashionistas in their own ways and love to accessorize. they swap accessories a lot

♡ whenever they hit up a bookstore, they are the first to head right on over to the manga section. right afterwards, they make a beeline over to the science fiction section and compare their purchases together after leaving

♡ miles is absolutely the "idc what my girl wears bc i know how to fight" boyfriend. margo doesn't go out in revealing outfits or anything, but looking a little TOO adorable in a dystopian city can sometimes paint a target on your back and so miles makes sure she's with him at all times if she wants to put her braids up into heart buns or wear a dress outside

♡ any hardware or mechanical problem that margo has, she takes it straight to miles. miles takes any software or coding issues he has to margo. if those software issues have anything to do with his prowler gear, however… he tries to isolate the issue and explain in vague terms what the problem is to avoid telling his gf he's actually the prowler

♡ no, he has not revealed to margo that he is the prowler yet. he's terrified to see her face when she inevitably finds out anyways, just KNOWING it would doom their relationship to a breakup if she ever figured it out. he does everything in his power to keep her from finding out his secret, even if it means disappointing her when he misses out on dates they set together

♡ they are both total champions at whatever multiplayer video game they get hooked onto. their personal faves are mmorpgs and battle royale games, but they are UNBELIEVABLY competitive when it comes to party games and even board games. they absolutely wipe the floor if they get to team up together

♡ tbqh they're the EXACT level of nerdy that they would consider playing video games in their separate homes as a date. "mmorpg and chill babe?" miles texts margo sometimes as a joking way to ask her on an online date. every minute they spend on voicechat as they kick digital ass together counts as quality time for sure

♡ even tho she's kind of embarrassed about it, margo has an absolutely huge plushie and figurine collection. she was worried miles would judge her SUPER HARD for her lowkey (highkey) special interest in anime figures when he 1st came over to her room, but immediately felt relieved when miles practically flew up to a rare figure she got secondhand from a japanese seller online and started ooohing and aaahing about it

♡ he actually tries to put aside whatever he earns prowling around the city for his mom first. then whatever's left over goes right to margo. he likes taking her out shopping and letting her pick out two or three things and seeing her beam like a sunrise before giving him a kiss on the cheek

♡ miles tries to hide his prowling behind the excuse of getting a job with his uncle at the family auto shop. every time he has a job to do or needs to leave suddenly, he blames it on "an emergency/new car job at the garage". margo eventually starts hating the word "garage"

♡ get either of these 2 to start talking abt their special interest, and it will be like Infodump City in there in 2 secs flat. they listen to each other's infodumping with hearts in their eyes, ESPECIALLY miles. margo goes "hey can i just rant to you about my new interest rq" and he goes "yes ma'am 🥰"

♡ everyone thinks margo is the one who cooks and cleans but hell no. miles is a neat freak whose room is the total opposite of margo's and he spends a lot of time alone at home when his mom is working a double shift and his uncle is out trying to secure another job for them. he knows how to cook like a damn chef by the time he's 16 (and also rio42 is not a toxic boymom. she will not raise any lazy needy son, her boy WILL know how to do laundry, cook meals and wash the damn dishes!)

♡ margo on the other hand tries to avoid the kitchen as often as possible and gets panic attacks when having to clean anywhere else but her own room bc of bad memories of having to sweep up broken glass after hearing her parents have violent fights that left the apartment in tatters. she never got to learn how to cook bc they never taught her, either

♡ margo is actually p traumatized from her parents' constant hateful fighting that she tries to squash down or hide behind a confident mask. but sometimes it pops up in ugly ways like when miles accidentally slams a cupboard door too loudly or a sarcastic comment sounds a little too bitter. her knee-jerk reaction is to always distance herself from miles a bit as a coping mechanism, which they had to work through

♡ miles' own grief and loss traumatized him beyond belief too ofc. after his dad's passing, his anxiety grows and he becomes more withdrawn, easily tired, and forgetful. it becomes worse after he becomes the prowler, bc dipping into the NYC underworld every so often gives p much anyone a healthy dose of paranoia. plus it takes some time away from his gf on top of all of that.

♡ if they're ever at parties or get-togethers at all, its always margo initiating conversations and meeting with people, making introductions and chatting happily. she always happens to have a quiet, chill miles-shaped shadow with her the whole time

♡ if margo was going to date miles, he told her one time, she was GOING to learn how to dance bachata and salsa. throw in a lil reggaeton in there as they get older and rio becomes a TINY bit more chill with seeing them on the dancefloor. they actually become much better at dancing together as they practice at family reunions and birthday parties

♡ miles carries around plush keychains and other trinkets that remind him of margo. he's a total sap when it comes to her, even if he tries to hide just how much he loves her sometimes. his phone's lockscreen is something dark or aesthetic like a city skyline or whatever but then when he unlocks it, margo is always his wallpaper

♡ aaron likes margo, he really does. he worries that miles doesn't have enough friends but he's happy that his nephew has a gf that is genuinely good for him. they all have a great time together whenever they do get downtime to chill together, like playing cards or helping aaron clean the garage

♡ that being said, aaron loves to pretend to sabotage their relationship as a running joke and watch miles get all riled up about it. it is hilarious to him, never gets old.

they're giving the garage connected to the autoshop its bimonthly deep clean just ahead of the yearly inspection.

it's a sunday, the only day of the week that the shop is closed for business and miles is on corner duty once they get down to the concrete floor. he's tasked with using the short hard brush attached to a long wooden handle to scrub the dust and grime out of the neglected corners. margo is scrubbing the middle with a much bigger sturdier widebroom, and aaron--being the tallest ofc-- has the duster on an extendable handle, swiping through the metal rafters and high shelves.

he notices miles struggling a bit with a mysterious stain in one corner, repeatedly attacking it before finally crouching down to shove the brush even harder against the floor with his hands.

aaron casually sneaks backwards and catches margo's attention with a smirk and a point of his chin. she swings her gaze around to her slightly frustrated boyfriend crouched down into a corner and starts giggling.

aaron grins as he suddenly says, "so yeah, thats why i got miles here on corner duty, usually. y'know being a little guy and all, he can do all that that someone as tall as me can't really do anymore yanno what i'm sayin? he's real good in those small spaces. that's why i'm up here, dustin' these rafters."

scandalized, miles springs back up with a "hey!!" and a withering glare shot their way. margo bursts out laughing.

♡ miles is the little spoon and margo is the big spoon, fight me abt it. his fave cuddling position is actually when his arms are wrapped around her and her cheek is laid against his head. otherwise, he loves his weighted blanket, and margo loves her warm mattress ♡ when they're home alone and on the couch watching movies, his back is usually to her side as he half-lays on her, using her arm as a pillow

♡ margo is def not a sports kind of girl but she tries for her bf. he and aaron are very much into basketball which she tries to keep up with just to join in on their convos. she always attends miles' boxing matches tho, ofc. she actually likes watching boxing matches in general! aaron gives her some old tapes of his own matches when he was younger and that's how margo gets into televised mma fights and ufc. she's always cheering for miles the loudest in the audience

♡ miles actually uses margo sometimes in his workouts. the proudest day of his life was when he was able to have margo laying on his back as he did pushups, and he made it to 10 before tiring himself out. she's the one holding his feet down as he does sit-ups and ab crunches. she tries to join in on his workouts too, and gets p good with the speedbag relatively quickly!

♡ miles-- being the paranoid guy he is-- happens to be the one to teach margo all of the effective self-defense moves. she thinks he's always exaggerating the danger out on the streets but she can't lie sometimes; whenever she's out past sunset with her keys in between her knuckles, she's just a TINY bit glad that miles taught her how to escape a rear chokehold

♡ margo is the soc media girl who is embarassingly online and posts about anything and everything of her life. new website coded? met a stray cat on her way over to miles'? bought a new manga? invented a cool gadget? they always show up in her followers soc media feed. she tries to get miles to pose for pics with her but he's mostly content to just be the guy behind the camera tbh. his own soc media account is pretty boring and bare since he rarely ever posts. he's got other things on his mind, errands to run

♡ the one and only time margo has ever seen miles cry was right after his dad died. the whole neighborhood got the news and she ran straight over to miles' apartment the minute she could. they climbed into his bed (the only time rio didn't reprimand them for it) and he just sobbed his heart out while they held each other for a real long time. she brought over homework and notes when he stayed home from school to recuperate