What if Fitz never had dealt with brain damage, and Fitzsimmons went undercover for Hydra together?
Fitz was worried.
Simmons looked up at him, giving him a comforting smile. She nodded slightly and Fitz’ finger gripped, his wrist turned, twisting the knob to the door. He pushed the door forward, revealing an office known to be Director Phil Coulson’s. Fitz gave Simmons another worried look.
“Fitzsimmons, come in,” Coulson hollered over to them as they awkwardly stood in the doorway of his office. Simmons peeped in, seeing Coulson looking at his tablet with a very stern expression on his face.
Fitz could feel the pit in his stomach massing into more of the size of a melon, watermelon even. Simmons was always good at looking calm but Fitz knew he was horrible at it. He started to sweat for goodness sake, he never could keep his calm.
Tiberiaus was in his study, sorting through the various mountains of paperwork that often befell a Warden of his stature. He had just gone over a recent report from his scouts in the Fjord, nodding once as he moved the paper, and damned near threw a fit at finding a picture beneath it. “FOR THE LOVE OF THE LIGHT. I SWE-…Hey, actually. This guy looks a lot like a Ranger that I used to know.” He leaned down, looking over the picture before holding it up to the light. “I imagine if I was a woman, I’d be swooning. But the real question is…he looks to be covered in sweat and grime, yet his hair is still full and seemingly conditioned. I must know the secret, because…”
He held a hand to his chest, looking up at nothing in particular.
Shout-out to girls with hijab that doesn’t look like they belong on the street style blogs, shout-out to girls with hijab that are not fashionistas, shout-out to girls with hijab that doesn’t have strong eyeliner game, shout-out to girls with hijab that doesn’t wear any makeup, shout-out to plus sized girls with hijab that feels like no hijab suits your face shape, shout-out to girls with hijab that gets catcalled on the street despite the coverings, shout-out to girls with hijab that have to remove so many pins when they’re shopping for clothes, shout-out to girls with hijab that are having a bad hijab day where everything is wrong and you feel like you just look plain messy, y'all look beautiful today. Thanks.
Schrodinger’s fanfic: the fic you leave open waiting in a tab over and over; while it remains tabbed and unread it continues to exist simultaneously as potentially wonderful and potentially disappointing