@thejackalsden​ asked:           ↪ Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

📂 (Hit. Me. And if it's about Cherry Flavored Candy Ang is gonna hit -him- )

          McCree hates grape flavored candy almost as much as he hates cherry flavored candy.

( meme ) - always accepting

look, the next one trying to cheat with the meme...

hmm, well, i think i’ve stated everything here already, but maybe i can add a few things. 

Billowing coat paints imposing appearance, wind whipping its tails to give a style of DRAMATIC EFFECT ; but it’s not nearly as menacing as his folded arms & deep scowl— once the ship lands in the hangar jack waits, waits, watches the bay door open, his expression - SOMEHOW - darkening further once blue eyes catch sight of gabriel stepping off ;

      no welcome back, no how’d it go—just four words in tone that leaves no room for rejection :

              a  letter,  addressed  to  her,  from  him.  they  have  each  other’s  phone  numbers,  and  could  EASILY  go  about  securing  an  address,  but  he’s  old  fashioned  in  a  lot  of,  perhaps,  humorous  ways.  he’ll  hold  the  envelope  out  to  her,  waiting  with  bated  breath  for  her  to  take  it  and  tear  it  open...

                            ...  and  once  he  sees  the  cream  colored  stationary  emerge  from  the  folds  of  the  envelope,  he  turns  on  his  heel  and  briskly  begins  to  walk  away,  too  ILL  PREPARED  for  what  her  answer  may  be  to  his  bold  inquiry:

        ‘  you’re  both  healers,  ‘  they  keep  saying.  ‘  it’s  a  duty  that  comes  with  both  its  rewards  and  its  consequences.  angela  is  simply  just  exhausted.  ‘  ---  and  he’d  forced  himself  to  believe  it,  for  a  time.  any  level  of  a  sound  explanation  was  better  than  nothing,  but  he’d  made  it  a  point  to  keep  an  unrelenting  eye  on  her  as  the  weeks  came  to  pass,  looking  for  any  sort  of  CHANGE  that  would  be  cause  for  further  concern.  perhaps  his  constant  wellness  checks  were  becoming  overbearing,  or  maybe  she  truly  WAS  just...  ‘  exhausted,  ‘  as  those  wiser  than  him  reassured,  but  there  was  a  cloud  of  growing  tension  between  them  that  he’d  feared  calling  attention  to,  like  there  was  something  MORE  to  this  than  he  was  seeing.

       it’s  only  when  they’re  given  a  rare  day  to  rest  that  he  decides  to  address  it,  away  from  prying  eyes  and  open  ears.  disguising  it  as  a  date,  hopefully,  wouldn’t  raise  any  initial  suspicions,  but  angela  is  smart.  observant.  he’s  walking  ahead  of  her,  arms  folded  across  the  thin  fabric  of  his  tunic,  hair  pulled  back  and  away  from  his  face  (  an  irritation,  an  OBSTACLE,  when  he’s  trying  to  think...  he  could  simply  just  cut  it,  certainly,  but  there’s  a  strange  sort  of  attachment  to  his  long  hair  that  makes  it  hard  for  him  to  sever  it  ).  there’s  a  clearing  ahead  that  he  oft  travels  to  when  he  feels  overwhelmed,  its  picturesque  scenery  and  fresh,  crisp  air  a  foolproof  remedy  for  a  heavy  mind,  and  it’s  the  perfect  place  to  bring  her,  now,  when  his  mind  is  at  its  heaviest.

It's the click of heels on cobblestone, and she's found him after the celebrations dotting Altissia's streets, some festival or other. Cheeks flushed with wine, and that black dress hugs those curves. She pays no mind to the low whistle Gladio lets out behind Ignis at seeing her dressed up for once, and instead there's a smile, blue eyes looking up at him through her lashes, and a hand extended, stepping close enough for him to catch a scent of lilies, a coo there, "Spend the evening with me?"

        is  it  shameful  to  admit  he’s  been  somewhat  WATCHING  her  since  the  night’s  events  had  begun,  partially  to  ensure  she  did  not  drown  herself  in  wine,  and  partially  because  it  was  NICE  seeing  her  enjoy  herself  for  a  change?  the  healer  had  certainly  earned  a  night  of  peace,  and  she  likely  suspected,  alongside  ignis,  that  this  would  be  one  of  few  in  the  coming  years.  it  wasn’t  pessimism,  but  realism  ;;  vacations  were  few  and  far  between,  for  those  who  chose  the  paths  that  they  did,  even  if  his  excursions  with  the  prince  SEEMED  like  a  life  of  luxury  on  occasion.

       when  angela  approaches,  clearly  tipsy,  ignis  assumes  she  is  approaching  with  the  desire  to  leave.  he’s  fully  prepared  to  escort  her  back  to  her  accommodations,  equally  as  unwilling  to  entertain  gladio’s  shameless  voicings  of  APPROVAL  for  her  chosen  attire  (  though,  ignis  has  to  admit,  internally  and  embarrassingly,  that  she  DOES  look  striking  tonight.  such  is  not  to  say  she  doesn’t  NORMALLY,  but  the  garbs  she  has  adorned  herself  in  for  the  festivities  are  certainly  cause  for  admiration,  spoken  or  unspoken  ).  he’s  recalling  where  he  put  his  jacket  when  she  steps  into  his  personal  bubble,  senses  pleasantly  assaulted  by  both  her  scent,  and  her  appearance.

       oh...     that  was...  oh,  goodness...

                           “  m-me?  “  he’s  not  so  deprived  that  he  doesn’t  know  what  unspoken  promises  lay  in  those  words,  but  he’s  ill  prepared  all  the  same  to  tackle  the  chaos  of  emotions  that  barrels  into  him.  usually,  it’s  gladio  being  offered  something  of  this  nature  (  some  as  of  result  of  his  own  pursuits...  nay,  MOST  ),  but  ignis  is  used  to  standing  in  the  background,  observing  but  never  engaging.  considering,  but  never  acting.

        “  dude,  iggy,  she  wants  to---  “

                a  pointed  gaze  is  shot  gladio’s  way  --  NOT  HELPING.

     “  angela,  you’re...  clearly  intoxicated.  “  he  can’t  look  at  her...  not  in  her  eyes,  like  this,  with  her  pressed  so  closely  and  tantalizingly  against  him.  “  i...  it  would  be  criminal  to  take  advantage  of  you  in  so  vulnerable  a  state.  p-perhaps  we  should  get  you  to  bed.  “

      it’s  the  wine  talking,  he’s  convinced  himself.  surely,  she  wouldn’t  exhibit  any  level  of  interest  in  HIM,  despite  how  well  they  got  along.  they  were  alike  in  so  many  ways,  but  were  the  others  not  more  of  a  ‘  fun  time  ‘  to  unwrap  and  enjoy,  in  comparison  to  himself? 

        “  c-come,  i  will  see  to  it  that  you  get  back  to  your  room  safely.  “  hand  settles  against  her  hip,  arm  coming  to  circle  ‘round  thereafter  it  for  support  (  etching  every  curve  into  memory.  cursing  himself  for  doing  so.  )