I love love love conflict/arguments im sorry I just think it’s not something we see a lot for content in the redacted fandom, we usually see mutual angst between characters and stuff so I think it’s great that you’re so good at writing conflict, i came to request maybe a Milo/sweetheart argument, whether it be domestic or not whatever you think!
I imagine that earlier in their relationship Milo was a bit more abrasive (not David levels lol) but I think that his relationship with his father and being on edge and staying on his toes at work for his jobs itself and because people made fun of him lots he was awakes on edge and very ready to get defensive, so if you wanted to make it something about that :)
No issue if you don’t want to though! Just saw your requests open!! Thanks!
(a/n: back to the grind!!! hope my return to the stage of requests is satisfactory. reqs open!)
A buoyancy at complete odds with the sterile, subtle hostility of the building around them inflated in their chest, carrying them aloft through the lobby toward the fromt doors leading out into Dahlia proper. They had to bite down on the inside of their cheek to suppress the smile that insistently challenged the corners of their lips.
A chance to prove themselves after a job well done.
That's what their supervisor had called the file he had slipped into their hands as they went to clock out for the day. He was an anachronism made flesh: short, crisply cut and maintained hair slicked with pomade, rumpled button-up and slacks that always had the bitter tang of long-gone diner coffee emanating from the fabric, jaw always on the shadowy side of stubbled, no matter how recently he had shaved. He was meant for missing persons and mistresses in greyscale, not magical minutiae and breach of covert reports.
But there he was. And he had a reputation.
And he wanted them to be on his taskforce.
And on top of all that, as if this day could possibly get any better, they had a date. A date who was standing right by the front entry to the Department of Uniform Magical Pracrices. A date who was...scowling, his eyes fixed somewhere vaguely around their head.
"Milo?" they asked, their voice turning tentative, that barely-there smile fading in an instant. "Is everything alright?"
He raised his eyes to meet theirs, and they quickly cataloged the flinty cast to his gaze, but also something softer, almost bruised.
"Perfect." he muttered before shoving the door open with a twist of his shoulder.
The walk to the car was damn near silent, their insides twisting with an unspoken uncertainty that was quickly approaching the territory of fear.
"Are you okay?" they finally murmured once they were both buckled in and heading to Milo's apartment for takeout and a movie.
"Who was he?" he attempted to ask in a casual tone and failed miserably. "That guy you were talking to."
"Guy I was talking–" Their eyes furrowed before shooting up in stunned realization. "Julian? My supervisor?"
"Julian." Milo said under his breath, pointedly ignoring the clarification to the man's position in their life. "Stupid name."
"Right." they said, their tone turning decidedly flat. They weren't the type to die for an institution, but Julian was a good guy who did good work, and they couldn't help the way Milo's attitude was ruffling their feathers. "What exactly is your problem with him?"
The answer came much too fast, on the tail end of a just-stifled retort.
"Milo." Their voice was somehow much too loud and much too quiet.
He sighed, fingers tightening on the steering wheel, the skin over his knuckles pulling tight.
"You just...seemed really happy around him, 's all." he finally replied. "Relaxed. Familiar. Chummy." He shot them a quick look before turning back to the window.
"What does that have to do with you?" they shot back, causing his jaw to feather. "I'm going home with you, aren't I?"
"You are." he conceded, and they could hear the 'but' chasing its tail. "But you just...seem real comfortable in the Department. Makes me wonder..." He licked his lips. "Well, it makes a guy wonder where your priorities lie."
Their brow arched. "Really. Running around doing glorified hall monitor duties is all fine and good, but governmental work is where we draw the line."
"First of all, you know damn well my job is more than that. Second of all, I'm just saying–"
"You're saying that you don't trust me as an employee of the Department because part of you is still hung up on the way it warped your dad."
The car fell deathly silent for a moment, but they pushed on.
"While I'm going to ignore the complete lack of nuance in your argument for painting all Department workers as a monolith of incompetence, I'm going to focus on the fact that it's wildly insulting to be compared and likened to a man who I've never met and have expressed my distaste for. On numerous occasions."
"And thirdly," they concluded, "I was talking to Julian because he was impressed with my work and wanted to promote me to more confidential and privileged cases. I wanted to tell you so that we could celebrate."
Milo's face fell, and they felt a frisson of guilt at the twinge of righteousness that surfaced at the sight.
"Sweetheart, I didn't know, I–"
"You still meant it." they shrugged. "Just take me home. We'll take a rain check on movie night."
He looked like he wanted to argue, but he ultimately relented, not saying another word until he gave them a quiet farewell at their door.
