#but only kinda since jemma never makes an appearance

[ilosttrackofthings]

biospecilast + forsake

A sequel to my decision is final (which isn’t necessary reading but you might wanna brush up on it anyway since it’s from 2016).

“So-” is allGrant gets out before Jack’s groaning. “What?”

That little facetwists up to him with a seriously?expression that’s so much like Kara it hits him like a punch.(Which is, honestly, also a lot like Kara. She was deceptivelytiny and packed a hell of a right cross.) He’s got his homework spread out in front of him on thecoffee table, spelling sheets and multiplication drills and maps ofthe thirteen colonies all mixed up and he goes back to it while hetalks.

“That’syour serious voice. You only use it when we’re gonna talk.”

Grantrests on the edge of the couch, glad Jack’s too engrossed in hiswork to see his frown. Is he really that easy to read when he’stalking to his son? That’s kinda scary. Or it’s just a testamentto Jack’s skills at reading people. He’ll go with that one forthe moment.

“WellI was hoping we could. This is kinda serious.”

Jack’spencil freezes halfway through Mississippi. His little shouldersshake. “Are we moving again?” he asks softly.

Grantwinces. Technically they’ve only “moved” the once—that wasGrant’s gentle way of breaking it to Jack that they were nevercoming back to the Hub—but he used the same words again last yearwhen Gonzales’ people ran them out of the Playground. That time wasmore of a vacation than a move since they’re back to living herenow, but it had to be scary for a kid who went through the uprisingonly nine months earlier. And just a few short months before that helost Kara, had to be transferred from the Treehouse to the Hub.

“No,”he says firmly. “We’re not moving. This is a good talk.”

Jackbounces on his butt to turn on the spot. “How good? Are we gettinga dog?”

Fitz.He’s been angling for a dog for weeks and lately has started ropingJack into his requests.

“Nota dog. But I’m hoping we’ll get something better.” He checksthe exits, makes sure no one else has come into the lounge in the fewminutes he’s been here, and then just for good measure leans downclose to Jack to whisper, “How would you feel if I asked Jemma tomarry me?”

Amillion emotions flicker across that little face but all too quicklythey settle into what is unmistakably disappointment.

“Ornot,” Grant says quickly. The words tear at him—he knows betterthan to get his hopes up about anything but he’s maybe beenenvisioning the three of them together as a family—but Jack’s themost important person in his life, if he’s got something againstJemma then that has to be taken into account. “I don’t have to. Iwas just thinking- well, I thought you liked her. That you might notmind if she became your-”

Whilehe talks, Jack’s head lowers. A fact that’s quickly becomingdistraught hiding behind unruly hair.

“Superboy?”Grant asks, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Icalled her ‘mom,’” he mumbles, the words barely audible.

Grantsuppresses a flinch. “When?”

“Afterwe came back from Uncle Christian’s.” So after the Gonzaleshubbub. That was ages ago.

“Wellthat’s okay. What’d Jemma say?” She never mentioned it. Coldfear crawls down his spine. Maybe she had good reason not to. What ifit’s not Jack’s feelings he has to worry about?

Theshoulder beneath Grant’s hand shrugs. “I dunno. I was in bed.”

Not exactly a good reason for her not to answer him but… “Thenwhat’s the problem?”

“Ishouldn’t’ve!” His head pops up, red with fury. “Ishouldn’t’ve called her that because she’s not! She’s not mymom! I don’t have a mom! She’s dead! She’s dead and she left meand-” He cuts off with a hiccup when Grant pulls him into hischest. He’s so much bigger than he was the night they rescued himfrom AIM but he’s still so small, just a kid stuck in this world ofvery adult problems. Hell, even Grant feels too young to be dealingwith most of the shit they see on a daily basis, and poor Jack’sright in the middle of it all.

Heholds him close, rocking him the way he did when Jack was a baby and up all night with a rough cough. Eventually the tears run out—afterleaving behind a cold mucus stain on Grant’s shirt—and Jack’scries quiet to sniffles.

“Yourmom loved you,” Grant says softly, his voice roughened by his owntears. “More than anything in the whole world. The day she foundout she was having you-” He chuckles. Kara came right up to him,told him she was pregnant and keeping it and she didn’t care whathe thought about it. “She loved you right then.”

Jack’sfist tightens in Grant’s shirt and a faint whine escapes him. Itdoesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s feeling guilty forrepaying her by calling someone else by her special title.

Grantpulls back enough to see him. “But you know what? I think she’dbe pretty sad right now.”

“Becauseof me?” He sounds so miserable, Grant’s gotta give him a squeeze.

“Becauseshe’d want you to be happy. She wouldn’t want you feeling bad forcalling Jemma ‘mom.’ Your mom would’ve been so soglad to know you found someone else who loves you that much, whomakes you feel safe and cared for the way she did. Andif that’s what Jemma does, then you shouldn’t feel bad forcalling her that.”

Jackgives a faint sniffle and wipes at his eyes. “You really thinkso?”

“Iknow so.”

Hisface is still mottled from all that crying but he manages a hopefulsmile. “Do you think Jemma would wanna be my mom?”

He sets his earlier, foolish fears aside; he’sseen Jemma with Jack. There’s no way she doesn’t love him. “I think she definitely would.” Grantscrunches one side of his face. “Do you think Jemma would wannamarry me?”

If that look earlier was Kara’s the long pause he gives now is definitely Grant’s. “Hmmm. Maybe.Can she still do experiments if she marries you?”

“Definitely.”

“Didyou get her a real pretty ring?”

Grantmakes another check of the doors but either this is just a reallyweird time where no one’s coming in or they heard enough of Jack’scrying jag to make themselves scarce. Either way, they’re clear.

Hepulls the box out of his pocket. “What do you think?”

Heexpects Jack to oooo and ahhh but he surprises him by taking the time to turn the ringover in his hands, carefully considering every facet of it beforegiving a firm nod. “Looks good! She’ll definitely say yes.”

Granthugs him close again. “I hope so, superboy. And you know if shesays no, that doesn’t mean she loves you any less, right?”

Jackrolls his eyes and slips back to the ground and his homework. Theonly sign of his distress is the quick hand he swipes across hisnose. “I know.”

Grantgives it a few seconds, enjoying the sight of his kid doing somethingso mundane as homework before he moves to stand, tousling his hair onthe way.

“Dad?”Jack asks before he’s done more than shift his weight to his feet.

“Yeah?”

“You’rereally sure mom wouldn’t mind?”

Jack’snot looking at him, but Grant smiles anyway. “I really am.”

Hewaits another second, just to be sure, and like he thought there’sanother, even more tentative, “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Ihope she says yes.”

Grantsqueezes his shoulder. “Me too.”

[checkingoutforheroes]

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.

Part 2.

Avengers x fem!reader 

Pt.1

Words: 1892

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?

Main Masterlist 

Maria and Fury bring you to The Avengers tower for mission briefing and meet the rest of the team. To be honest, you are beyond excited you see the building. You move from your seat to another, looking out of the window, facing the tower. Maria looks at you at the rear view mirror, seeing your awe face and smile. “If you open that window, I might’ve mistaken you with a dog.” You ignore her comment and ask them “Is this S.H.I.E.L.D? You guys work here? You build this place papa Bear? This is taller than I thought it would be!”

Fury look at you and then Maria “Now she’s excited.” Maria answer your question. “That is Avengers tower. S.H.I.E.L.D no longer exist. Burn to the ground.” You didn’t keep up about them after left the agency so you don’t know what happened. “What happened? Did this moody papa Bear show his emotion through action?” You let out a small laugh until Fury annoyed “Once again you call my name other than Fury, I’ll burn you too.” “Nahh, you’re not going to burn me. You need me. Otherwise, I’m not in this car right now. I said to him and Maria drive through the parking basement. “She got you, boss.”

Fury walk ahead to their meeting room. You stop your track when you see an aquarium placed at the wall. You never see something like that before in your life. When Maria realize that you are not walking behind her, she turns back to get you. “What are you doing?” “Looking at these fish in an aquarium stuck on the wall. How they do that? How they going to feed the fish? Rich people shit, quite awesome.” You said and Maria just shake her head. “We have a world crisis and the first thing you did is watch the fish?! Are you kidding me? Let’s go meat the team.”

 Meanwhile Fury already told the team about a new protocol or whatever. You didn’t hear that clearly until you are inside the room. Fury talk to them. “Since all of you are here, including Maximoff, I have a new protocol that you can use.” Steve looking confusing at Fury. “We already made a plan.” Tony interrupt to teasing Steve “Yeah and a good ted talk by the captain too.” Natasha asking about the protocol. “Do we know about the protocol?” Fury take a seat “No, Romanoff. No one knows about this protocol except Agent Hill. This protocol was created to help the team when in need, and this team clearly need it right now.” Steve ask him. “What protocol is that?” Natasha looking at Clint and he shrug. “B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.” Tony just laugh while Steve have a serious face looking at him. “I’m sorry. That’s kinda funny name for a protocol.” Maria open the door and you both going in. All eyes on you and you feeling slightly nervous. How can you not, they are The Avengers! You recognize all of their face except one person wearing black dress and red cardigan.  

Fury introduce you to the team. “Right on time. Avengers, I introduce you B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL, as in Best Associate By Yours truly.” Maria added “Also, we call her Baby.” They are quiet and shock appear in their faces except two people. Natasha and Clint. They go greet you. “Baby!” Natasha walks to hug you while Tony look at you two weird. “Nat! Omg, I miss you. Clint! Miss you too!” You hug Clint and he hold your head. “Well, she grows up.” “Yeah, with some food and water, I did. Man, you’re old.” You said to him and Natasha smile “Kids growing, Barton.” “Natasha, beautiful as always. You have to drop your skin care routine, sis.” Tony interrupt the moment “You both knew her? Fury, you said no one know about this protocol.” Fury nods. “I said no one know about this protocol not that Romanoff and Barton didn’t know her.”

Steve starts asking question. “How old are you?” Tony interject again. “Yeah. You don’t look like a baby to me.”

             You looking back at Steve, smirk on your face. “How old are you?” Maria sign you to behave. “Baby.” Tony sit down at one of the chair. “I like this kid already!” He earns a glare from Steve and you apologizing “I’m sorry. That’s not a good first impression. I’m 22.”

“What is your name?” Damn he is a serious one.

             “People call me Baby.”

“What people didn’t call you?”

             “If they didn’t call me? Silence, I guess.” You whisper at Natasha left ear “Can I not tell them my name?” She crooks a little smile. “It’s up to you.” “I prefer being call by that name that Maria & Fury has told you or anything you want except my real name due to personal reason.” You nod and smile at them.

“Why? Dark past? Major criminal? Wanted by CIA? Interpol? MI6? Ugly name? Kicked out of family or something?” Seriously, how can they work as a team with a guy name Tony Stark? Maria, Natasha and Clint have your back.

“She’s here to help us. Nothing else, Stark.” Maria said to him.

Natasha glare at him. “I suggest you stop right there or you’re not going to see any sunlight.”

Clint agree with them. “Leave her alone man.” Tony look guilty. “Everybody in this room has dark past. I’m just curious, not judging. She’s not alone.” Wanda tell them that he told the truth. “He’s not lying.” “Thank you Wendy. Peace?” You walking toward him “No heart feeling.” You guys fist bump each other.

Steve ask again. “How do you know Barton and Romanoff?”

             “While I was in S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, which I thought a Juvenile school at first, they trained me combat espionage. Since that’s the only thing on my expertise. I wish to have Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz brain though. They’re genius in bio-chem and engerneering.”

“Why you thought it was juvenile at first? You commit crime?”

             “Duh.” Both you and Tony said it at the same time and again “JINX!” Natasha look at Steve. “Relax captain, all of us commit crime back then.” “I didn’t” Tony look at him. “Are you sure about that?” “What do you mean Stark?” Steve ask and he say “You literally cheated your medical checkup to join the army.” “I did it to protect our country.” Steve said and Clint chuckle “Still crime.” Fury tell Maria to handle the briefing and he’s out. You ask where is he going? “Where is he going?” “He have another thing to do Baby.”

             “I know most of you but I don’t think I know or seen you, Mr. ?” You ask and Natasha introduce him. “That is Dr. Bruce Banner.”

             You shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. What did you do?”

Bruce seems like to hesitate to answer that. “You didn’t know? New York?”

             “Alien? Chitauri?” You ask him back innocently.

“Um. I’m, the big green guy.” He anxiously answers that.

             “An ogre! Wow, that is so cool!” Clint hold my shoulder. “The other green, buddy.” “Oh, I know. I’m sorry, I forgot your ogre name is Shrek. Still cool though. I watch all of his movies when I was a kid. Maybe we can watch it again sometimes.”

Bruce look at Natasha and then back at you. “That’s, not me either, but yeah, we can watch that, big green cartoon sometimes.” Tony finally tell you who he is. “You seriously don’t remember who broke New York kid? He’s The Hulk!” Bruce looks down and tilt his head to look at Tony. “Yes. I’m that! Thank you for bringing back memory, Tony!”

             You feel guilty for not remember that. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. But hey, New York already broken before you broke it. Can I have a selfie? You’re incredible.” You snap the picture before he even answers. Tony said something “I’m literally right here. The coolest guy in the group.” You turn your head to the girl in black dress, red cardigan. “And you are?”

She answers with a thick accent “Wanda Maximoff.”

             “You’re not from here? You have an accent just like Nat. Well, once she’s mad at me during training years ago.” You remember the detail and Natasha rolls her eyes at you. “That is one time. I slipped.” “Human make mistakes sis. You aren’t machine.”

“I just got here yesterday. I made a mistake. Wrong judgement, I want to make it right. I join them.” She explains and you currently melting, just to hear he talk. You want her to talk more so you can hear her talk. Thing is, you didn’t know that she can read mind. Where is that accent came from? Russian? You ask those questions in your head. “From Sokovia.”

             “Where are you from? What? I just ask-“

Maria answer my question. “She’s a telekinesis, energy manipulation and some kind of neuroelectric interfacing.” “Huh?” You don’t even know what that is and Maria make it simple for you. “Telepathic.” You turn to look back at her. “That is so awesome!” Tony huff at your statement. “Yeah, until she’s in your head.” She just looking down “I’m sorry.”

 Right after she said that, Thor, God of Thunder walk into the room and tell about the scepter. You are amazed and suddenly you bend the knee. “Oh. My. God. You’re Thor!” He looks back at you. “and you tiny female human.” “You. Are. the God of Lightning! I am a fan! No. I’m an air-conditioner.” He smiling, feeling proud. “Thank you, tiny human lady. It’s God of Thunder, actually. What’s an air-conditioner?”

Maria gives us final brief. “You guys might want to prepare something for tomorrow. We’re flying to Korea and find Dr. Chow tomorrow morning. Get some rest, sleep early, you guys need it.”

             You ask them a question. “Can I go back to my place, then come back? Clint can you take me?” “Yeah, I can.” Steve kind of not agree with you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why? I need to take my stuff.” “I can pick her up tomorrow.” You and Clint said and Steve ask you again. “Do you have a suit? or uniform?” You unzip your sweater and show your Donut Do It uniform. “Will, this do? Because someone decided that it was okay to give a surprise visit when I’m on my way to work.” Maria just smirking at you and Natasha smile “I don’t think that appropriate gear for the field.”

Tony offers you to stay with them at the tower. “Captain’s right. Don’t want to risk anything on the team member night before fight. Stay here, I’ve got plenty of room. Natasha can show you. They basically live here. We have spare shirts too.” You look at Wanda “You live here too?” She’s thinking about the answer. “I spend the night here.” Natasha turn you to look at her. “That’s a good idea. Just stay here tonight. Wanda’s here too.” “Natasha can show you your room, take a shower and dinner later.” Tony said. You look at Maria by the mention of dinner. She sighs “Okay, spaghetti and chicken wings.” Natasha add “And caramel pudding?” You smile at her “You remember?!” “Of course I do.” Clint jokingly say “How can she not, you guys practically sisters.”

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

Thank you for spending your time reading this. Feel free to reblog or ask me anything, thank you in advance!

Part 3 is coming!

[daisylincs]

Today is, officially, the last day of 2020 - so it's literally just in time that I'm getting to @aosrecweek's amazing challenge. But that does go to show the nature of this crazy year a little bit, right? Time has just been INSANE, and I honestly cannot believe it's so close to over.

That said, I want to put it out there that everyone - absolutely everyone - who created something in this mad year, is a SUPERHERO. Like. We could have hidden away in dark corners, curled into little balls, and lost touch with our creativity entirely - but instead, we made some of the most fantastic content I have ever seen. And, excuse the language, but that is fucking amazing, of each and every single one of us. We're bloody INCREDIBLE, you guys. We really are.

Now, the rules of this challenge dictate that I've got to start with some of my own things, then repeat with the same number of creations by other people. So I'm going to do that, and I apologise for the sheer length (and self-plug-iness) of what is about to follow - but, bloody incredible, remember? I really mean that. 💜💜💜

My Own:

you could call me babe for the weekend - 19k of Spideychelle being oblivious, mutually pining IDIOTS while being snowed in. And, you know, fake dating. (This thing was SO MUCH FUN to write and though, yeah, it got completely out of control, as evidenced by the 19k, I still really love it.)

'tis the damn season - my first attempt at writing a multi-chap, and, yeah, it only has one chapter as of now, but I really love said chapter. Basically, it's Daisy and Mackelena being friends, and honestly just the BEST friends - I adore the style I managed to achieve in this thing. Plus, the Skimmons I have planned up next is going to be da bomb.

the closest thing - Philindaisy plus fake family. Also; amusement parks. And for a fangirl like me - well, it was pretty much a dream come true to write!

oh valley of plenty - in this fic, I basically told myself, so AoS won't give us Huntingbird in the finale? Fine. I'll just do it myself then - in the fluffiest way possible. And that's exactly what I did - making them, and their kids, be best friends in Perthshire.

maybe life should be about more - a very angsty Skimmons and Daisy-centric AU, focusing on the internalised homophobia Daisy has experienced through her life, and shaking it off (and eventually, y'know, getting together with Jemma.)

and it's dark in a cold december (but i've got you to keep me warm) - Fitzsimmons just make such a supreme pairing for hurt/comfort, what with how insanely well they understand each other and care about each other, so I'm really glad for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa giving me the chance to write this! Basically, this follows our science duo through a stressful mission on Christmas Eve (so yes, it's a mission fic!!) and realising that the two of them can do anything together.

july second - ahhh, one of my personal favourites to write! Daisy birthday surprise fluff will always be top-notch for me, especially for all the team-as-family fluff you can add in, especially especially that this is set in Staticquake times! Also, it's from Hunter's point of view, which will forever be the most insanely fun thing to write, I do think.

i just wanna be with you - man, I'm such a big royal fan, so getting the chance to write a modern royalty AU for my OTP was nothing short of amazing!! This is Princess Daisy and her fiancée Lincoln Campbell at their official engagement interview

see the line where the skye meets the sea - shameless season 1 bby Bus Kids fluff, featuring movie nights, singalongs and... so much fluff your teeth will rot. Also I'm really freaking proud of the pun in the title okay

'cause all that you are is all that i'll ever need - Huntingbird waking up together fluff (because, fight me, Huntingbird in their sweet moments is one of the sweetest things you will ever get to read or write.) This is also my, fluffy, take on the origin of the Franny's Saloon keychain.

we love you, we love you (and we hope you love we too) - aha, my first polyship fic! Also my first try at some actually fancy HTML formatting (forever thanks to Kat for explaining.) Both of these things combined to form a fic that even I think is ridiculously fluffy and funny, and kinda amazing, at that.

and man I don't know where the time goes (but it sure goes fast like that) - Another Bus Kids movie night fic, but this one set post-season 7, and reflecting on how far they've come. A little bit more hurt/comfort-y than it's pure fluff prequel, but still super fluffy and soft. And, of course, with a happy ending.

she shares my dreams, i hope that someday, i'll share her home - snowy Fitzsimmons fluff, complete with them falling in love at the Winter Olympics, as you do.

then you walked in and my heart went boom - 16k of Dekesy for the wife, and remarkable for that, because literally a month ago from this, I hated Dekesy with my entire soul. Then I started reading Kat's fics, and, well, fell in love with them... so much so that I wrote sixteen thousand words of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, bed sharing holiday fluff for them.

a love like that - a Fitzsimmons Cinderella AU, featuring my two favourite science babies, in true science bby style, falling in love over science and how stupid the whole courting thing is. Also, Daisy makes a brief appearance, and she's the freaking best.

ever after - ah, probably the one single fic I'm proudest of. A post-season 7 Daisy character study focusing on her emotional rollercoaster re: losing her family/things never being the same again, which just achieves... an emotional level that I have never managed to replicate again. I was full-on sobbing while writing it, and, guys, it also part-holds the Closest To Making Kat Cry prize.

blue - Daisy character study spanning snapshots of seven seasons, and before - but tied together by something blue in every moment. Researching for this, and finding all the blue moments, was very interesting, and immensely satisfying, especially since all the moments where a little bit of blue was present actually combine to chronicle Daisy's journey on the show remarkably well.

who is that girl I see - the one time I decided to write straight angst, and straight angst with no happy ending. Melinda May post-Bahrain, folks.

take my hand, take my whole life too - aww, the first thing I wrote that I really and truly loved. A Staticquake and Fitzsimmons Actors AU, featuring a proposal on set and INCREDIBLE amounts of fluff and softness.

hold out your hand, 'cause friends will be friends - the wife's favourite, and, as second fics go, pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. It's a Soulmates AU for Staticquake and Mackelena, with the focus being on DaisyMack friendship, and lots of denial, angst, and guilt about finding their soulmates. (They figure it out eventually, don't worry - it's me, of course I made them happy.)

Fitzsimmons + Fake Dating moodboard - Fake dating will always be FAB, and picturing it out in a moodboard - especially for my clueless bby best friends in love - was the best, and super satisfying.

Staticquake + Orange moodboard - One of the cooler ideas I had for Trick or Treat (which I still have not finished, heaven help me) was to make a series of moodboards for my OTP plus different colours. This orange one is just so light, and cheerful, and happy, and honestly I kinda adore it.

This Philindaisy + Family Moodboard - making moodboards can be insanely frustrating when you just can't find the photo that fits exactly right. With this one, however, I found all the pics I needed pretty insanely fast, and, better, the whole thing just worked, and really nicely so, too.

This Bus Kids + Baking Cookies moodboard - there's absolutely NO faults to be found with tiny, adorable Skye, Fitz and Jemma concocting choc chip cookies - but I'm actually doing a tiny cheat here, because, cute as my moodboard here is, the accompanying fic by my love @eowima is the SWEETEST and best thing you could ever wish for!!!

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - Day 3 of Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week focused on an emotion, and I picked confidence and power, because honestly, it's nothing short of amazing how confident and powerful our gorgeous girl has become.

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - One of the times I wish I could gif, because this quote about struggling though never giving up just suits Daisy perfectly. The photos I found are cool, though, and I mean, it's Daisy, so that's already absolutely fabulous.

Other People's:

I managed to find twenty-six of my own things that I liked enough to put up there (because, yes, I'm that big a dork, 26 things for me being 26 is the way to go :D) Anyway, now that gives me the amazing chance to spotlight twenty-six of my favourite creations by my FANTASTIC mutuals! 😍

To start, my wife - Kat said I couldn't put everything she's ever written on here, so, ugh, I guess I'll just do my top five then. *grumbling* Everything by Kat is on here in spirit, though!!

Chasing Cars (even after the story ends) by @aleksandrachaev - the epic Dekesy roadtrip AU and incredible Daisy character study itself, which, I do believe, finishes today!! Words aren't enough to describe how freaking AMAZING this thing is, or how spectacularly well characterised. Just: if you haven't read this yet, you are missing out. You will laugh, you will groan, you will want to wrap Daisy in a very tight hug, and you will probably cry, too. This fic just has it all, really!

there goes the maddest man this town has ever seen by @aleksandrachaev - the post-season 7 Deke-crashes-the-Framework-Zoom-call fic I didn't know I needed (but spent the next two weeks rereading every single night.) It is absolutely INCREDIBLE, with all the Deke & Team feels we missed in the final outro scene, and honestly just the most fantastic writing. I cannot recommend it enough!

To Box It Up And Start Again (everything must go) by @aleksandrachaev - bloody hell, this BROKE me. Deke never really got to say goodbye in canon, but Kat gave him the chance to do it here. And, my freaking GOODNESS, she made it so incredibly bittersweet and heart-shattering. 10/10

i am a leaf on the wind by @aleksandrachaev - a little bit of a stretched-out, reflective moment in the season 7 finale. As Daisy lingers on the edge of death, she reflects on all the lives she could have had - and, man, what a study in bittersweetness!! This entire fic is utterly incredible, and something I think all Daisy fans should read.

Falling Into Place by @aleksandrachaev - here's a tiny cheat from me (sorry, babes, lmao) because technically this isn't one fic, but a series of three. Way too amazing to miss out on, though!! Set mid-season 7, this has the Chronicoms go after a young Mary Sue Poots to kill Quake before she can become a problem for them. They stop the Chronicoms, yes, but not without a TREMENDOUS dose of feels and hurt/comfort. There's also a wonderful little dose of Dekesy friendship, and then an adult adoption (!!) that honestly made my entire day to read. Actually, that's true for the entire series - I really canNOT yell about it enough!!

destroyer of worlds by @bobbimorseisbisexual - a study in incredible parallels between Jiaying's daughters. Utterly breathtakingly done, this will give you ALL the feels for this small and complex Inhuman family.

Muscle Memory by @robotgort and @bobbimorseisbisexual - a Huntingbird!! Bones!! AU!! And also a collaboration between two of the most fabulous Huntingbird authors in the fandom - honestly, what more can you ask for?! This will make you laugh, and gasp, and wince, and keep you guessing at each new plot twist (and also screaming at your screen for Hunter and Bobbi to get their acts together and TALK ABOUT IT.) In short: it's completely and utterly amazing, and I cannot, cannot recommend it enough!!

You Belong Among the Wildflowers by @libbyweasley - a freaking incredible Scis & Spies Regency AU! I only just started reading, but I was hooked all the way through, especially on the way Libby writes all four characters' complex relationships (and their attraction, and their history!) Everything about it is just completely stunning, and I for one cannot WAIT for these beautiful idiots to figure out they all belong together.

Family Snapshot by @tomatobookworm - if it's family fluff you're after, especially Staticquake family fluff, look no further! This tremendously soft and utterly amazing fic follows a day in the lives of a pregnant Daisy and her husband Lincoln, and their not-so-little family of Inhumans, both adopted and biological. There's also shopping with Grandma May, lots of feels, lots of shippiness, and just AMAZINGNESS all the way through!!

Best Day Ever by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - Jemma and Daisy want to adopt a pet, and make a very special trip to Wisconsin to do it. Also, whether he knows who he is or not, Jemma has an important question to ask Cal - and just, AHHHH, everything about this is utterly stunning! For starters, Aubrey's writing is FANTASTIC, and the scene she sets is absolutely beautiful, and so very bittersweet. I was actually misting up a little with happy tears towards the end of this - really, I cannot recommend this enough, to any Skimmons fan.

so why don't we go somewhere only we know by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - more Skimmons (platonic this time, though), more hurt/comfort, and, yes, again, more absolutely INCREDIBLE writing. This one is canon compliant, following a shaken Jemma struggling to sleep after Maveth, and how Daisy finds a way to help her out. Incredibly sweet, tender and BEAUTIFULLY written, this one was an instant favourite the moment I read it!

Unspoken by @anxiouslynumbme - a birthday fic for yours truly, and, honestly, one of the most STUNNING Staticquake introspectives I've read. It follows Daisy and Lincoln in a beautifully tender missing moment in season 3, with them both realising their feelings, and just... AHHHHHHHH, everything about it is utterly incredible!! I cannot, cannot recommend this gem of a fic enough

the thing about water droplets and ruffled hair by @que-mint-tea - here's another fic that proves, once and for all, how good Kat's Dekesy is, because it managed to convert T to write some Dekesy smut. And, oh my GOSH, what Dekesy smut - so goshdarn angsty, but so FANTASTICALLY characterised and written that it leaves you more than a little breathless, and gaping at your screen. The first chapter initially left us on the most HORRIFIC cliffhanger, but then T fixed it, and it's just... this thing is really a whole new level of emotional writing, raw and gripping and intensely perfect for both of these characters. My haw still drops whenever I think of this thing, and how utterly AMAZING it was, so yeah. Fic rec!!!

beautiful stranger, there you are by @justanalto - I do believe I still owe Serena a long and very gushy comment on this thing, because, MAN, does it ever deserve that!! Pipsy and fake dating, with the most HILARIOUSLY incredible writing, plot and characterisation, and honestly just a giddy "askhdfkhsfh" whenever I think back to how much I enjoyed it. Yup, it was that good.

Jumping to conclusions by @eowima - a very special one, because it marks my love Océane's first venture into writing AoS fic! It's an AU of 1x06 (the Fitzsimmons episode of s1) where Fitz does actually jump out of the plane to save Jemma. Realisations of feelings, and some of the most genuinely FANTASTIC Fitz characterisation I've read in a while, follow - and, yup, I was shouting at my screen for them just to get together already. Amazing stuff, really!!

Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit by @eowima - okay, this. This. Another gift for me, and one that I will probably treasure forEVER, because it is just?? so?? utterly?? perfect?? Just for starters, the title is a Hamilton reference - and then the theme of Hamilton references continues into the fic itself, I'm delighted to say. There's also the most BEAUTIFUL, playful Skimmons friendship, and teasing, and then of course the bet about who can make out with their crush first... Staticquake & Fitzsimmons perfection. And all rendered in Océane's delightful, best-thing-ever-to-read writing!! I'm going into a giddy keyboard smash just THINKING about this, so yeah, cannot recommend it enough.

lullabies and clear blue skies by @springmagpies and @bobbimorseisbisexual - okay, I never thought I'd catch myself shipping FitzBobbi, let alone shipping it this hard, but... wow. Maggie and Al teamed up to completely blow me away, and MELT MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEART with the sheer cuteness of this!! It features Fitz, Bobbi and adopting two daughters, and it's just the most tender, beautiful development through that little family - I love it so, so much.

We made all the wrong choices by @browneyedgenius - the winner of the AoS Angst War 2020, how could I not include this one? It is such a well-deserved win, though, whoa - I was sobbing, full-on sobbing, at least twice while reading. It follows the season 5 team through the events of the time-loop, after they failed to save the world - and, oh my gosh, it ripped my heart right out of my chest, but beautifully so. Everything about this fic just hits so hard, and it's written so well - yeah, really a most AMAZINGLY deserved win, for an utterly SHATTERINGLY incredible fic.

I threw stones at the stars (but the whole sky fell) by @nazezdha321 - this is Z showing us all how to write a backstory for a minor character, and write it so well that everyone's hearts break all over again when she dies. This one is about Victoria Hand, and it builds a stirring and profound childhood for her, also making her rise through the ranks of SHIELD and just her entire character mean so much more. Really, fic-wise, this is goals, and I take my hat off to you, Z, 1000%, for writing it.

in which the universe is put together by @besidemethewholedamntime - Rebecca's emotional writing, particularly Fitzsimmons' emotions, is incomparable, and she proves it all over again in this fic. If follows Fitz and Jemma before, after and during the bloodwork, and I just... wow, honestly. The emotion!! And the characterisation!! Absolutely stunning, and honestly all I could wish for in a we-had-time fic.

Agents of SHIELD Season 8 by @egumal - THIS. This, this, this, oh my gosh - as fix-it fics go, this has to be the most spectacular one I have ever read. What it does is find a way - a potentially canon compliant way, too - to bring back Lincoln Campbell, and reunite Staticquake. Basically: just about as season 7 finishes, the Astro Ambassadors get an unexpected visitor from another timeline, who asks them to come help out against Hive. Case in point, Daisy meets her lost love again (... but he has no idea who she is) and also has to relive the Fallen Agent drama. It all gets even more complicated when Kora restores Lincoln's memories, and Daisy meets the full team Deke has assembled around him in the 33 years (for him) that they've been apart... in short, this is one of the most thorough, well-written and downright SHOCKING plot-twist-wise fics that you will ever read, and honestly, saying "I can't recommend it enough" is an understatement. This thing is thd BEST, plain and simple!

Black Roses aren't real (but you and I are) by @ohwriteiforgot - ahhhh, a fic that will always have an incredibly special place in my heart, because it introduced me to one of my best fandom friends. The main focus is on Clintasha, it's true, but it's also a crossover with AoS in the sense that Clint was adopted by Coulson and May. Also, Daisy is his little sister, and their bond is gold. Also - there's Staticquake!! And flower shops!! And rivals to friends to lovers!! All I'm going to say is, what more can you ask for?!

A book to shield my story by @maybebrilliant - Staticquake High School AU, ahhhhhhhh!! There are only two chapters out so far, but the way this is shaping up is making my DAY - with Daisy as the new girl who meets Lincoln and his group of friends, and, though her foster parents are absolutely shit, starts to find actual happiness in a school for the first time in her life. Also - THE REFERENCES. Guys. I'm crazy for those, and in this book, so are my favourite dorks, Daisy and Lincoln - and let me tell you, it's nothing short of the best thing ever.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @heysteverogers - AoS really has been the most INCREDIBLE journey through the years, but what's really made it special is the company - and that's summed up perfectly in this gorgeous gifset. Also, the graphics on this are just, ahhhh, stunning - I'm in awe, and I've spent very long periods of time just looking at this thing in a state of heart-eyes.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @jemannesimms - combining Auld Lang Syne and the final scenes of my favourite show was a raw emotional - but utterly brilliant experience - for me. It's just so absolutely beautiful, and perfectly suited to the team, and their goodbyes!! Breathtaking editing work here, too.

This Daisy as Peter Parker and May as Tony Stark moodboard by @agentsofcomedyandchaos - ahhhh, a crossover of two of my favourite fandoms!! And what a lovely one, too - the colour scheme, quotes, and just the whole FEEL of this is absolutely genius, and I am guilty of being inspired by way too many fic ideas by it. Stunning stuff!!

And... whoa, that was long, but I really do feel that we deserve a bit of a proper pat on the back after creating such magical content in such a messed up year. So that's the note I'm going to leave you with for 2020, my friends: hell-year or no, look at the absolute beauty we were still able to create!! We really are freaking amazing, guys.

[ryder616]

Rewatching Inside Man

Stating the blindingly obvious here, but Hive is one seriously creepy dude. It’s not even the fact that his idea of a restorative meal is picking raw humans clean, because I’m fairly sure at least one of my cats would totally go for that if she were person size, and we’re still best pals.

It’s his ability to form a collective of compliant drones, with enough independent thought to contribute their skills and ingenuity but no actual free will, that creeps me out every time.

We already see it here with both Giyera and Lucio who appear disturbed by the slaughter and yet meekly go along with it. Neither was a champion of great behaviour before Hive but Lucio’s “son inocentes” is very indicative of how he would really feel about it all, if Hive’s little parasites weren’t swarming his brain.

Very creepy is also how Hive keeps switching from “I” to “We” when he’s seemingly still speaking of himself. It’s like there’s “Hive”, the individual who is already a multiple of past hosts and tiny parasitic organisms, and then there’s “The Hive”: Hive and the Inhumans he has enslaved, who share a “connection” with him and with each other and who also speak with the plural at times because they are all part of the same, well, hive. Daisy will do it while speaking with Lincoln in 3x17 and with Fitz in 3x18, for instance.

The Kree reapers will call Hive a failed experiment but from a purely effectiveness standpoint, he’s a brilliant success, whether his ability was intended or an unforseen side effect: one general to lead an army of unshakeably loyal soldiers who are extensions of his will, won’t ever be able to refuse orders nor let pesky morals in the way. Even without superpowers, that would be a terrifying army.

The only snag, from that viewpoint, is that nobody controls Hive and, clearly, he’s not amenable to play second fiddle to anyone.

Gotta Catch ‘Em All:

Enter Manifold. Or not. In the comics, Eden Fesi is a mutant recruited in the Secret Warriors, an Indigenous Australian who can teleport by bending spacetime.

In the show, he’s just a cute easter egg, a (presumed) Inhuman held captive by the Australian Threat Unit and used in military experimentation. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents in Australia free him at the end of this episode, never to be heard, seen or mentioned again.

Whoever had the idea to tease the Secret Warriors so much only to pull the rug from under us and never revisited them again...well, dear sir or madam, you are kinda evil. *pouts*

Shake ‘n Bake:

With Mom and Dad away for the weekend, Daisy chills out at home with her boyfriend and they have quite the interesting time. They almost make out all over the gym until Jemma cockblocks them (lol) and then have an interesting debate that highlights how very little they know each other.

Or at least that’s what I’m going for to excuse Lincoln’s incredibly insensitive line about Daisy “hacking her way through life” as if she took a cheap shortcut to easy street and he had it so much harder.

They’ve really only spent together those few weeks at Afterlife and however much time has passed since 3x07 and Daisy isn’t one to overshare about her personal struggles. Still. WTF. He knows enough about her family history to figure out how not fun most of her life must have been.

In 1x12 Daisy had said to Ward that she felt like she “cheated” for hacking her way into S.H.I.E.L.D. compared to the agents who had gone through the Academy. So, knowingly or not, that was a low blow from the good doctor.

Stuff that crossed my mind:

What are you? -- What are we? “We” are The Hive. Resistance is futile. *snickers*

That’s why we’ve got Daisy and Lincoln with us. -- Oh, yeah. Good old shake'n bake. 🤣

It's not a disease, it's an awakening. [...] Terrigenesis made me who I was supposed to be. I was given a gift, and I use it to stop bad people from doing bad things. You know, I think Jiaying would be proud to hear her say this. And Cal would be happy to hear her calling it a gift.

You know who else does bad things, humans, but you don’t see any symposiums on human contagion. Well, we’re kinda endemic. And we’ve already infected everything.

Field work isn't always about rushing in and using your powers. [a minute later, when Coulson’s in danger] Lincoln, forget what I said. Rush in and use your powers. 🤣

Do you know how you got your powers? -- An experiment. --  Something went wrong. --  Something went right. Finally, some positive thinking!

I cannot inhabit Inhumans. We cannot feed on our own kind. Hive can’t inhabit Inhumans. The Hive cannot feed on its own.

Mission's more important. -- Aren't you tired of saying that? 'Cause I'm tired of hearing it. Certainly didn't apply when your husband's life was on the line. Interesting point. Would have May made the same call if the person threatened had been a stranger? I don’t know but she is big on protecting people, which is S.H.I.E.L.D.’s entire raison d’etre after all. And the better argument is that it probably wouldn’t have mattered either way, Ward being Ward.

You're here for Bobbi, nothing more. She's the only reason why you call yourself an Agent and why you couldn't care less about the mission. Mhmmm, so why did he throw in fully with Coulson during the real S.H.I.E.L.D.’s business? I think you’re being a little unfair.

Talbot is doing his best rendition of the Ugly American at the Symposium’s reception but given that he is the true inside man and he’s actually playing Coulson, it means he is very self aware of how others see him. Which is interesting.

Is it me or May, Hunter and Bobbi look quite sharp in those liveries?

Not so sure the field is my thing. -- What's your thing? -- Don't know. Maybe it's you. It’s not Hunter who’s at S.H.I.E.L.D. for love, May. Or, at least, he’s not the only one.

Oh. So sorry. Jemma, I must say, I am very impressed. That was excellent timing.😁  

They prefer the term “Inhumans”. -- What kind of a name is that? Ikr? I’ve been saying that forever!

The Australian sounds paranoid. She also doesn’t sound very Australian? Though admittedly, I can only tell accents when they’re very thick. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Here we have a sample of Daisy’s blood taken two years ago. That would be from the time after she was shot and Jemma was investigating the GH 325, taking numerous blood samples. The fact that this show can have this type of eye for details for something that doesn’t strictly need it (Jemma could have just said the blood had been taken before Terrigenesis and leave it at that) is why I get mad when they don’t for less trivial stuff.

I hate to be a buzzkill but this is a gun-free zone, so I’m gonna have to take that off you. 🤣

Buon Appetito. [reveals Bobbi’s batons and two guns] -- I love you. -- I don’t hate you quite as much. 🤣 🤣 🤣

We can't save everyone, Daisy.  And not everyone who can change, should change. That's why Jiaying was so selective at Afterlife. [...] It’s about giving people a choice. Ok, this is a good point.

It’s a birthright. It’s not a choice. I think Jiaying would have been proud to hear her say this as well.

Do you think it was Lash's time? Was it his birthright? Don't you think Dr.Garner would have liked to have had a choice? It’s not like anybody asked him anything anyway...

All I know is that if the government got their hands on a vaccine, it won't be a choice. They will wipe us out. We do not have a disease, Lincoln. This, too, is an excellent point.

The gel-matrix tanks have a kill switch that can be triggered remotely. I’m guessing/hoping Rosalind didn’t know or that Malick had it added for the occasion.

Hive: Yes, they are innocents. But they will serve the greater good. [later] Malick: You must all be sacrificed for the greater good. Oh, look at that, both bad guys using the “greater good” justification. I’m shocked.

[Creel saves Hunter’s life]. That doesn’t make us even. Well, I’m going to be grateful that he saved you for the both of us then.

The rest of us will focus on trying to find Talbot’s son. No need, May was on it. 😎

Sorry I got a little militant about the vaccine. Umff, he should be apologizing, not you. 🙄

You have this natural zen thing with your powers. She worked for it, you dumbass, and you should know because you helped her through it! 🙄

For you, controlling your power is like finding peace. Quake, Jedi Knight. The “rushes in to help her friends before her training is complete” kind, of course. 😎

Sometimes, it’s good to lose control. Uhm, guys...the door is still open? Jemma might still be around, you know... 😁

Poor Brett Dalton, that goo looks supremely uncomfortable.

[babycoulson]

Naiveté

Note at the end of the chapter this time.

“This could have been a traumatic experience for Dr. Hall. He may not be the same when you find him,” Phil warned the two of you over the comms. “(Y/N) will talk him down. We don't want your personality to set him on edge, Ward.”

“Great time for humor, sir,” he replied blandly. “My people skills are the least of our problems if Skye can't get us in.”

With one last tug, your raft was safely on the beach, tucked behind a rock.

“You still don’t have any faith in her,” you called Ward out. “How do you expect to be able to bond with her in a way that helps you to train her if you refuse to believe that she can do anything?”

“She’s gotta earn my trust, too,” he replied stiffly.

“That’s not what being a teacher is about. You know that, right?” you asked seriously. “In a teaching situation, you have to trust your student for them to trust you. If they break your trust, then that’s that, but you can’t start out without a little blind trust.”

“You suggest that I trust someone who could betray us at any moment?” He glared at you as you walked up the path to Quinn’s property.

You returned a glare with equal force. “No, I suggest that you trust your student.”

He said nothing, just sighed and shook his head as if he were dealing with an unreasonable toddler.

You kept your anger at his ineptitude down and instead promised yourself that you’d kick his butt sparring later. “When I was in middle school, I had a lot of trouble with math,” you stated.

“You’re not special.”

“Oh, you’re certainly not wrong. I hated math, just like every kid across the world is conditioned to. Something kind of miraculous happened in high school, though. I suddenly got really good at math, and I was pretty stoked honestly. The numbers and letters and Greek alphabet started making sense out of nowhere.”

“Lucky you.”

“Do you know why I got so good at math?”

“If it’s not crucial to our success here, I don’t think it really matters, does it?”

“It may not be crucial to the success of this mission, but it will be in any future missions where you have to put your trust in Skye.”

“You talk like there will be future missions.”

“Yes, because I trust her to do her part!” you exclaimed angrily. “Math started making sense because I wanted it to make sense. I couldn’t learn it until I wanted to, get it? You won’t be able to trust her until you want to.”

“I do want to trust her!”

“No, you don’t.”

“Oh, well, excuse me, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, but trust doesn’t come so easily to all of us.”

“Just like math.”

He didn’t have a response, but that may have partially been because you rounded a corner on the trail to see a bright yellow warning sign. In an English translation below the warning in Maltese, the sign read, “Do not cross / Lethal radiation.”

Eyeing the sign and the seemingly clear trail ahead of you, you picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it forward. With a buzzing noise straight out of a video game, the laser grid glowed bright yellow and ate the destroyed the dirt. You and Ward exchanged a concerned glance.

“Next patrol any minute now,” he said.

“Skye's offline,” May reported urgently. “Repeat, we've lost audio and vitals.”

“No,” you murmured.

Ward gave you an exasperated look with a hint of “I told you so” and said, “Abort is not an option, but if she's compromising--”

“She's still our only way in to get to Dr. Hall,” your father interrupted him over the comms.

“And we're their only way out,” Ward accepted.

The sounds of soldiers’ feet crunching on the sandy trail preceded the “Beach is all clear. Let's move up the ridge.”

You retreated quickly behind a large bush, pulling Ward with you.

“Do you understand the plan or do I have to explain it to you?” you whispered.

“What do you think?” he spat quietly.

“I don’t know! I guess I just feel the need to treat you like you treat me.”

“I don’t treat you like a little kid.”

“I never said you did.”

“But you said you’re treating me the way I treat--” he all but gasped as he realized his error-- “oh my g--”

“You could have pled the fifth, man, but you decided to self-incriminate instead.”

“Listen here, you little--”

“Change of plans. You stay in the bush, and I’ll take care of the problem, understood?”

“No, we are a team and we make decisions--”

You stepped out from your hiding place as the guards became even with your position off the trail. The first guard in line raised his gun quickly as he heard the leaves of the bushes rustling as you made your appearance. You forced his arms down and punched him across his face, knocking him to the ground. The second guard tried to hit you, but you turned around just in time to catch his arm and twist it in just the wrong way and use his immobility to strike him as well. You caught the third guard with a sharp elbow to the face and a strong push down the hill, which sent him tumbling.

The first guard stood up and attempted to hit you, but you grabbed his arm and flipped him over your shoulder. He didn’t get up after that.

“Dang, a little rusty, I guess,” you sniffed, picking up the first guard’s gun and disarming it in a second. “Hey, speaking of rusty, how long does it take you to disarm a gun, Dad?” you asked, touching the ear your comm was in.

“I will have to find out,” he responded.

Ward looked at the three men and said, his teeth gritted, “I have to admit that wasn’t bad.”

“Not bad?” you chuckled. “Not exactly the words I’d pick. It wasn’t good, either. I haven’t really fought in a while and it shows.”

He kept looking at the fallen men and scratched the back of his neck. “Rusty,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Hey, clock's ticking, guys,” you reminded the team back at the Bus. “Where's Skye?”

“We still don’t know,” Fitz worried. “She may have abandoned ship.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Simmons agreed sullenly. “Quinn’s got a lot to offer.”

“Hey, so do we,” you argued. “I know you all think that she’s using us, but I can tell that she’s sincere about wanting to be with us.”

“You’re naive is what you are,” Ward growled.

“Maybe I am!” you yelled, frustrated with the baseless dislike that he’d had for you since you’d met. “I’m also significantly better at making friends than you are.”

“We’re in!” May exclaimed.

“She’s done it!” Jemma followed excitedly.

You crossed your arms and gave Ward a smug look. “Freaking told you,” you gloated.

“Fitz, you’re up,” May told the scientist.

“Oh, mother of all things,” he mumbled to himself. “Move, move, move!”

“We have a man down,” a voice came loudly from one of the soldiers' walkie talkies. “Hostiles on the east ridge!”

Your eyes widened and it was Ward’s turn to try to pull you into the bushes as gunfire came from more soldiers downhill. The bullets disintegrated when they hit the laser grid behind you.

“We need a reset here, Fitz!” you called.

“Fitz!” your father pushed.

“Fitz!” you repeated, pulling your gun from its holster as you looked for a target to shoot.

“Saying his name repeatedly does not increase productivity!” Simmons stressed.

“Okay, go!” Fitz said.

The grid dropped and you dashed across the border, but Ward stood still, firing back at the enemy.

“Or maybe it does,” she resigned, impressed with her friend’s speed.

“System rebooting in two, one, now!”

Ward dove over the border just as Fitz said “now.”

“Cutting it close for no reason,” you teased him, helping him to his feet. “Love that.”

He paid you no mind, instead starting to jog down the path to Quinn’s estate. He seemed pretty set on not speaking to you, so you obliged him.

When the mansion came into view, you told Ward, “I'll look for Dr. Hall down in the lab.”

“I'll get Skye,” Ward said.

You split up at the swimming pool. Remembering the basics on where you had to go, you headed towards the mansion.

“Remind me where to go next?” you requested of your father.

“You’re heading in the right direction,” he assured you. “There’ll be a door coming up in about twenty feet.”

“It’s so nice having an audial Marauder’s Map,” you joked.

“I know just as well as you do that you’d get lost without me.”

“I will certainly not deny that,” you chuckled. “Found the door, now what?”

“Head down the stairs on the left until you get to a door that looks like it belongs in front of a lab.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.” You hurried down the stairs until a door that looked like it very much belonged in front of a lab came into your view. “Found it,” you said.

You opened the door and entered quickly upon seeing Dr. Hall.

“Dr. Hall,” you called to him, quickly approaching him before introducing yourself, “Agent Coulson. We have an exit strategy.”

“SHIELD?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” you confirmed, walking back towards the door. “Let's get you out of here.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Coulson. I'm right where I'm supposed to be,” he said.

You froze, looking at him with your eyebrows raised. “I'll be honest, our strategy did not take into consideration you saying that.”

“I’m sure it didn’t,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.

You moved to stand in between Dr. Hall’s control table and what you assumed to be the gravitonium. It was huge, at least twelve feet across. The surface was silvery and undulating like it was in turbulent zero-gravity.

“Look, I don't know what Quinn is promising you, but--”

“An opportunity,” Hall interrupted you earnestly.

You looked at the gravitonium as it began to solidify under the electric currents of the ring spinning around it. “We can't let Quinn have control of this, sir, it's too dangerous.”

“We can't let anyone have control of this,” he agreed passionately. “That's why I'm here.” To bury it at the bottom of the ocean, with him.” He pressed more buttons on the control table and the spinning rings gathered more and more speed.

“(Y/N),” May grabbed your attention, “The leak came from--”

“Dr. Hall. Yeah, I'm kinda getting that,” you replied, staring at the gravitonium.

“All the petitions, embargoes in the world couldn't stop Ian,” Hall explained. “He grows more powerful every day. And then I get word he's found this.”

Another wave of electricity from the rings zapped the gravitonium and it visibly solidified, releasing a shockwave that nearly knocked you off your feet.

“I'm sorry, Miss Coulson. I had to make a choice.” He made one more adjustment on the control board and the insides of every cupboard in the lab spilled out.

You responded nervously, “Something tells me that wasn't the "off" button!”

One last shockwave jerked you violently to the left side of the room where you slammed into a metal filing cabinet.

So bad news.

My family is canceling Netflix at the end of April because of rising prices. Unfortunately, this means that I won't have access to Agents of SHIELD anymore. I'm going to try to get one more chapter out before the end of the month, but I'm starting a new semester of college, so I don't know if that'll be possible.

So yes. I'll be going on hiatus for an indeterminate amount of time.

Here's a face reveal to cheer you up?

[shut-it-tinman]

green light

character: bucky barnes

inspo: songfic of lorde’s first track on her sophomore album, melodrama

warnings: break-ups, mentions of drinking, some swearing, past mentions of death, past mentions of cheating, mentions of lying, gossip

word count: +1.6k

a/n: wow it’s been ages, sorry about that, but I am working on multiple things so hopefully more to come. also never got to post this on here, though I did on ao3 and wattpad. this was written a while ago. but yeah, hope you enjoy!

The car ride was shaky, and both Y/N and Jemma dreaded that they had let Natasha drive them. Wanda was fine, constantly saying that she’s dealt with worse with her brother trying for the fourth time for his driver’s license.

“Romanoff! Can you slow down? I’m trying to put my eyeliner on,” Y/N whined, as the car jerked violently into one direction, causing her to have a long wing on her left eyelid.

“Why what’s wro- oh my god that’s fucking hilarious,” Daisy giggled. Y/N groaned as she tried to look into her phone screen using it as a mirror.

“You would have finished your makeup if you didn’t insist on taking a nap before we would leave for the party,” Jemma said, snickering at her eyeliner wings.

“Is it all gone?” Y/N said, facing Daisy. She nodded.

“Yep, just a little bit right there,” she said, reaching her arm out to wipe the smudged eyeliner in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks,” Y/N said, “and now I’m done.”

“Finally,” Wanda grumbled, “because we’re here.”

The club that the gals had gone to, the one that they all frequented after their college lives, was dark, crowded, and loud with music.

“Hey, isn’t that Bucky?” Daisy whispered to Y/N as they walked into the club. Wanda gave Daisy a look and elbowed her.

“Ouch! What? I thought that their relationship was over.” Jemma rolled her eyes at the brown-haired girl.

“Their relationship is never really over, not when she’s still in the picture.” Y/N looked over to where Daisy had mentioned, and there he was, nursing a drink, probably something hard, like whiskey or bourbon, but he also seemed to be brooding over something.

“I’m gonna go say hi,” she decided, sauntering over to him.

“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea since-” Jemma said, floundering to try and grab her arm before she left.

“Well there she goes, and she’s gonna have her heart broken again,” Natasha muttered.

“C’mon, let’s go take a seat and watch for her,” Daisy said, ushering them to a booth in almost line of sight from where Bucky was.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming,” Y/N said, taking a seat next to him.

“I was surprised that you called me,” Bucky replied, taking a sip of his drink. A bartender came to her attention as soon as she sat down, so she ordered a random cocktail that she could think of off the top of her head.

“I’m surprised that you’re now a cocktail kinda gal,” he said, downing his glass.

“Well, you seem to be into new things lately as well,” she said as the bartender set down her drink. She reached over to her purse, looking for her wallet.

“Let me get that since you’ve paid for mine last time.” She mumbled her thanks and took a long sip of her cocktail. “Brian, you can just put her drink on my tab, thanks,” he said with a smirk and a wink. Brian nodded and walked away.

“So how have you been?” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“How have I been? Well great, Georgie and I have been great, fantastic, if that’s what’s you’re asking,” he with a smirk that he what was coming. He always did. Every Friday night, Y/N and her gal pals would plan to go out, and she would secretly invite Bucky to each gathering. And he would bring Georgiana just in spite of her. And she would yell, curse and even slap (only twice, unfortunately) him for bringing her along, especially since their relationship is technically not over.

“We’ve actually been thinking in buying a house on the beachfront,” he blabbed on and on.

“Wait, I thought you hated the beach,” she said, interrupting him.

“No I don’t. You hate the beach.” She looked incredulous, annoyed at him.

“I LOVE the beach, and you would always make a fuss whenever I would drag you along to the beachfront parties.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, effortless and uninterested.

“I don’t what you’re saying, I loved going to the beach, and you were the one who would always make a bi-” And one slender arm wrapped around Bucky stopped him from talking any further.

“Hey Y/N, nice dress, though I heard it was from last season,” Georgiana said, all smiling with glistening teeth, but snarky as usual. Y/N rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the storm.

“Georg, you’re here,” Bucky said, his eyes softening at her appearance. He softly kissed her on the cheek, while Georgiana fluttered in utter joy. Y/N forced herself to withstand it, gripping her hands together from slapping the both of them but also rolling her eyes at their attempts of affection.

“Like I was saying Y/N, you may need to head into that charity shop that Bucky’s been tellin’ me that you love to find something that doesn't reek of desperation and yesterday’s mistakes.” Those words burned at Y/N, the urge to provoke her was rushing to the edge, closer and closer. He had told her. And she went there to donate the clothes that she felt she didn't need, to give to those less fortunate. He told Georgia and twisted the story. Not that shopping at thrift stores was a bad thing. They have the best Christmas sweaters for the cheapest price. She refocused herself, baring down any bad choices surfacing that she would regret later.

“Thanks Georgia, I really appreciate your fashion sense, and fuck you Bucky,” she said, sauntering away with her drink, back to her friends.

It seems as if Georgiana wanted to comment back, but Bucky tried to calm her down, like there was some sense of guilt and genuinity left for Y/N.

Eighteen Months Ago

“What are you doing?” she giggled, as he awkwardly bounced around to the techno music that thumped in the club.

“Y/N, what does it look like I’m doing? I’m dancing,” he said with a goofy grin.

“Oh my god, you’re insane.” He shrugged, leaning in closer to her. Bucky wrapped his arms around her neck, and they stared into each other’s eyes. “This feels like a thing that people used to do in high school dances, not techno clubs,” she whispered, smiling softly. He stared into her warm eyes, and his lips curved into a wry smile.

“I love you.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Wha-what did say?”

“I love you.” Y/N smiled, her heart growing by the minute at his confession.

“I love you too.” Bucky leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

This was the first time that he said the L-word.

Bucky had always believed that the word was reserved for “the person.” The person that he would say “I love you” to, would be his forever and always. Those words were the steady nod that he was in this for real, that this was real. And it was. Until something traumatic happened.

“He’s a dick. Like a super, dough-bag dick.” Daisy declared once Y/N settled back to their table. Y/N half chuckled in response, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Y/N, that sad picture of a man doesn’t deserve all the attention that you’re giving him,” Wanda said, rubbing Y/N’s shoulders in comfort.

“How does he seem to be at all the clubs that we go to?” Jemma said, thinking outloud. Everyone shrugged, some curious while others didn’t care for the reasoning why Bucky Barnes and his bitchy girlfriend seemed to ruin their nights for the past two months.

“That’s odd. Unless he and his crazy, bitchy girlfriend are stalking us, someone is telling him, because there is no way that it’s mere coincidence,” Natasha reasoned, taking a few sips of her Russian Vodka cocktail. All the girls looked at each other with steely eyes. Then, something clicked in all of their heads; they all turned to Y/N.

“Y/N,” Daisy said, touching the woman’s shoulder gently, “have you been telling Bucky where to meet up with us?” Y/N looked up at her friends, nervous.

“Maybe?” she squeaked.

“Oh Y/N,” Jemma sighed. They all looked at her in sympathy.

“Babe, you have to get over him. Move on. Break the ties,” Natasha said.

“Okay,” Y/N said, nodding. “I’ll do it. Just not tonight. I don’t think I can handle it anymore.” The other girls nodded, and they all stood up from their booth.

“Well that was a night,” Daisy said.

“Sure was,” Jemma said, as they were walking out the door.

Y/N trailed behind them, watching them ask the valet for their communal car.

“Y/N, aren’t you coming?” Wanda said, turning back. The other girl nodded.

“You go ahead, I just need a minute.” Wanda gave her a smile, before darting off.

The club was still loud and full of energy as the night was winding down. Y/N could spot Bucky and Georgiana still sitting at the bar. A small part of her was waiting for him to look at her, but he didn’t. And then, she was okay with it.

She smiled to herself as she walked out, glad that she wasn’t gonna fall back down that hole again.

Bucky looked up, having the sense that someone was watching him. And he saw her, leaving, with no regrets. His heart panged, regretting all the pain that he had put her through. And he realized that it was the last time that he’ll ever see her again.

To: Bucky Dickbag Barnes

Since you didn’t have the courage to dump me yet, guess I’ll jump ahead. Also, since you’re such a dickbag, I’m breaking up with you over the phone.

And fuck you Buck.

[sevens-evan]

it ain’t love if i can’t feel it in my body and my blood

author: daisys-quake

rated: t

pairing: daisy johnson/jemma simmons

word count: 2554

summary: Jemma meets Daisy in a bar in Bulgaria. She then lets Daisy drink her blood in an alleyway. It’s maybe not one of her wiser decisions.

a/n: inspired by two dialogue prompts sent by an anon: “quit it or i’ll bite” and “killed him? wait, what, literally?”. the obligatory vampire au. i felt kind of stupid writing this, but you know what, i’ve also written entire fics about french fries, so this isn’t that bad. it was funny, then considerably more risqué than anything else i’ve written, then it took a decidedly angsty turn. i hope you like it.

For the record, when Jemma had decided to travel across Europe after graduating from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, she hadn’t intended on getting her blood drunk by a stranger in an alley in Bulgaria. She doesn’t even have an excuse for it, honestly. The girl is pretty, and Jemma has recently discovered that she is, in fact, very, very gay.

Besides, Daisy is shockingly upfront about the whole vampire thing. She leads Jemma out the back door of a bar and into the alley, shows her the fangs that push against her lips, and asks Jemma if she would mind being bitten by a vampire. Jemma doesn’t exactly hesitate. Daisy is gorgeous, and she’s giving Jemma the same look she gave her in the bar, all dark eyes and lips quirked up, only now her fangs are showing, and—well.

Jemma finds out, a few hours later, that Daisy has excellent taste in wine. She’s sitting against the headboard of a ridiculously large bed, with the softest sheets she’s ever encountered. Bruises mark her throat and thighs, some from Daisy drinking her blood, some…not, and Daisy returns from the kitchen, wrapped in a luxurious-looking white robe, carrying two wineglasses. She hands one to Jemma, who takes it with a smile, and sits on the bed at Jemma’s feet, tucking one leg beneath her.

“So you can taste things?” Jemma asks, sipping the wine and sighing appreciatively. Daisy seems to find that funny.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to?” she asks, smiling in amusement.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I hadn’t given vampires much thought before today,” Jemma says. “Seeing as, you know, you’re not supposed to exist.” Daisy tips her head in acknowledgement and sips her own wine. Jemma doesn’t even try to hide the way she’s admiring the curve of Daisy’s throat, and if the suggestive grin Daisy gives her is any indication, Daisy catches her looking.

“Yes, I can taste things,” Daisy says, answering Jemma’s earlier question. “Food, alcohol, whatever else. I don’t need to eat, but I can still enjoy it.”

“And the blood?” Jemma asks, driven by an odd sort of morbid curiosity. “Does it taste good?” Daisy considers the question for a moment, leaning over Jemma and setting her wine on the nightstand. Jemma tries not to be visibly affected by their sudden proximity. Judging by the small, smug smirk that appears on Daisy’s face, she’s not all that successful. Daisy doesn’t return to her position near Jemma’s feet; instead, she crosses her legs and settles by Jemma’s hip.

“It’s different each time,” Daisy says, frowning thoughtfully. The expressions is…cute, is the word that springs to Jemma’s mind. It occurs to her that perhaps cute isn’t a word that normally applies to centuries-old, undead creatures, but the irrational side of Jemma’s mind (the side that’s been growing since she agreed to let someone she met in a bar a few hours ago drink her blood and subsequently slept with said someone) decides that it absolutely applies to Daisy. “Some people taste good. I usually drink blood bags, so I put them in smoothies and such to improve the flavor.” Jemma blinks. That is…not a nice image. Daisy catches Jemma’s disturbed look, and she smiles, sort of sadly. She looks vulnerable, which is another thing that Jemma wouldn’t expect from someone who literally cannot die. “Sorry,” Daisy murmurs, looking down at the sheets. “That…well, I guess it is kinda gross.”

“A bit,” Jemma admits, because she’s fairly sure Daisy would have some kind supernatural way of knowing if she lied. In a moment of bravery, she reaches out, setting a hand on Daisy’s leg. “But I asked.” She drains the last of her wine, setting the glass on the nightstand by Daisy’s, which is still partially full. “What do I taste like?” Daisy’s eyes shoot up from the sheets, and Jemma inhales sharply at the dark look in her eyes. “That…wasn’t meant to be a come-on,” she says, although the way her voice rasps sort of belies the statement. Daisy smirks, and oh, her fangs are showing again.

“Oh, it wasn’t?” she asks. Jemma shakes her head. Daisy glances down. Jemma follows her gaze, and oh look, her fingertips are tracing circles on Daisy’s thigh. She isn’t sure when that started. Daisy breathes out, long and slow, and suddenly, faster than Jemma’s eyes can see, her hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around Jemma’s wrist. “That tickles,” she says, and Jemma bursts out laughing. It’s ridiculous. Daisy is…Jemma hadn’t gotten an exact figure, but she’s well over two centuries old, and ridiculously badass, and superhuman, and ticklish.

“Stop laughing at me,” Daisy grumbles, but she doesn’t sound particularly upset. Jemma just laughs harder. Daisy reaches out, catching Jemma by the hips and lifting her effortlessly, pulling her away from the headboard and pushing her down onto her back on the mattress. “Quit it or I’ll bite you,” she says, placing her hands on either side of Jemma’s head and holding her body above Jemma’s, close enough that Jemma can feel the heat of her.

It’s an odd thing, that a vampire should be warm. Jemma would’ve expected her to be cold, physically and in every other way. Dead. Instead, Daisy is one of the most firmly alive people Jemma has ever met; kind and funny and mysterious, yes, but in a way that makes Jemma want to talk to no one else but her. And she’s warm.

“What if that’s the point?” Jemma says breathlessly. Daisy grins, and Jemma can see her fangs lengthening.

“Then you’re in luck,” Daisy says, and Jemma laughs again, because honestly, Daisy acts more like a dorky college student than a centuries-old, immortal monster.

Then Daisy’s fangs sink into her neck, and suddenly Jemma isn’t laughing anymore.

Jemma falls asleep, this time. Daisy hasn’t taken too much blood; she’s very controlled, very cautious, but Jemma’s body decides it’s time for a break anyway. She falls asleep in Daisy’s arms, feeling…safe, she supposes is the best word, in her half-asleep mind. Daisy makes her feel safe, warm.

Jemma’s last conscious that is that she’s having far too many feelings for a vampire that she’s known for less than a day.

Jemma wakes up some unknown amount of time later. It had been dark when she and Daisy had arrived at the hotel Daisy is staying at. It had been past midnight when they’d had wine. Now, predawn light is leaking in through the glass balcony doors. Jemma sits up, pushing her hair out of her face. The bed is empty beside her, but Jemma can see Daisy’s silhouette out on the balcony, leaning on the railing. Jemma retrieves a robe from the bathroom, wrapping it around herself and stepping out onto the balcony. She shivers at the cold concrete underneath her bare feet.

“I thought vampires burned up in sunlight,” she says, settling at the railing at Daisy’s side. Daisy is smoking, and Jemma has to make a conscious effort not to make a face at the smell.

“Common misconception,” Daisy says. “The European ones, occasionally. I just burn easily.” She sounds melancholy, contemplative.

“I would tell you the cigarettes could kill you,” Jemma says. “But…” Daisy half-smiles, putting out the cigarette (it’s mostly gone anyway) and tossing the butt into a trashcan in the corner of the balcony.

“One of the benefits of immortality,” Daisy says, almost bitterly. “No cancer.”

“You don’t sound particularly happy about that,” Jemma points out, as gently as she can. Daisy shakes her head and looks down at the street below, letting her hair hide her face from Jemma’s view.

“Just thinking,” she says, that same note of yearning and resignation in her voice. Jemma wants to say something to make it go away.

“How did you end up a vampire?” she says instead. Daisy straightens up, fixing her gaze on the beginnings of the sunrise before them.

“I was born in China,” she says. “Around three hundred years ago. My mother fell in love with an English merchant, who got her pregnant and then sailed back to England and abandoned her. She…she was a good mother.” Daisy still sounds sad, pained, but it’s more bittersweet now, that wistful ache gone. “It…wasn’t easy, back then, for her to raise me by herself. I’m sure you can imagine.” Jemma nods, not speaking. This doesn’t seem like a story meant to be interrupted. “She became a trader, which was very controversial back in the day, a woman running a business. I think she was always sort of hoping that my dad would come back to China someday, so she tried to raise the chances of seeing him again by going into the same business. Didn’t work, but we ended up moving around a lot, buying goods from all over the place and selling them to foreigners. I didn’t have to get married because of it. When I was twenty-four, I met a British captain. He offered me a spot on his ship back to England. I took it, and my mom never forgave me.” Daisy shifts, running a hand through her hair. “We had a fight, the day before I left. She wanted me to stay. I called her…some bad things. I insulted her for letting my father leave. The next morning, she wouldn’t speak to me. So I got on a British trading ship and I left. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

“Daisy,” Jemma breathes, because she can’t hold her sympathy inside anymore.

“Turns out, nice British captain was a vampire,” Daisy continues. “He turned me, and I killed him.”

“Killed him?” Jemma repeats. “Wait, what? Literally?”

“Yes, literally,” Daisy says, almost amused. “He was evil. I didn’t want to be a vampire. I didn’t want any of it. He didn’t give me a choice.” Jemma bites her lip. She supposes that’s a fairly good reason to kill someone, if such a thing exists. “I got to England, fell in with a group of vampires from London,” Daisy continues. “Stayed there for a few decades. I went back to China eventually, tried to track down my mother.” She shakes her head. “She died, a few months after I left. Fever.”

“I’m sorry,” Jemma murmurs, setting a hand on Daisy’s where it rests on the railing.

“She was human,” Daisy says quietly. “Humans die.” Jemma grips her hand a bit tighter. Daisy clears her throat. “Anyway,” she says. “There’s about two and a half more centuries to that story, but most of it is pretty boring.” Jemma doubts that, but she lets it go.

“What did you do before blood banks?” she asks instead. Daisy gives her an odd look. “What?”

“Kind of a weird question,” she says. Jemma shrugs.

“Well, we’re in a kind of weird situation,” she says. “Call it scientific curiosity, if you want.” Daisy smiles, shaking her head.

“I asked,” she says simply. “And if no one said yes, I drank animal blood. Gross, but livable.”

“So you never drank from someone without asking?” Daisy exhales.

“Once,” she admits. “I’m not going to lie to you. I did it once. The vampires in London, it was what they did. The girl survived, but…did you know I can taste fear?” Jemma blinks at the sudden change of subject. “There’s something in the blood, when someone is afraid.”

“And it tasted bad?” Jemma assumes.

“No,” Daisy says. “I liked it. And I knew I could never do it again.”

“Well,” Jemma says. “That’s…rather noble of you.” Daisy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the first time anyone has ever called me noble,” she comments. She lets go of the railing, and Jemma lets go of her hand.

“So you asking is normal,” she says, turning to lean her hip against the railing and look at Daisy. Daisy mimics the posture. “Is…” She gestures at the balcony doors, at the bed on the other side of them, with its rumpled sheets and the partially full wineglass still sitting on the nightstand.

“I don’t normally sleep with the people I bite, if that’s what you’re asking,” Daisy says, seeming to find the idea amusing. “You’re…I don’t know. Special, I guess.” Jemma should not be reacting to that as strongly as she is, but the compliment makes her feel floaty and lightheaded regardless.

“Well, I think you’re spectacular,” Jemma says. Daisy smiles. Her fangs are retracted, and other than the air of inhuman something that surrounds her, she looks normal. Like any other twenty-something girl, if a particularly gorgeous one. “Come with me,” Jemma blurts suddenly. “I’m going to Greece next. Athens. You’ve probably been there before, but—“

“I haven’t,” Daisy interrupts. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t look happy. That yearning ache from earlier is back in her voice, in her face. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t go with you, Jemma.”

“Why not?” Jemma asks. “Surely you have a passport. Even if you don’t, we can—“

“That’s not it,” Daisy cuts her off again. She reaches out, cupping Jemma’s face in her palm. “You don’t want this, Jemma. Not really. You don’t want this to go any further than one night. Let it be a good memory. Nothing more.”

“Why would you say that?” Jemma asks, quietly enough that, if it had been windy, Daisy probably couldn’t have heard her. The air is still, though, heavy and quiet.

“Because it’s true,” Daisy says simply. “I’ve fallen in love with humans before. You’ll age, and grow, and change, and die, and I won’t. I’ll be this—“ she gestures at herself with her free hand. “—until the end of time. And the only thing that being with me will do is break both our hearts.”

“Love?” Jemma echoes, mouth suddenly dry. Daisy smiles softly at her.

“It would be easy for me to fall in love with you,” she murmurs, tracing Jemma’s jawline with her fingertips. “If I went with you, I don’t think I could stop myself.” She lets her hand fall back to her side.

“So don’t,” Jemma says desperately. “Don’t stop yourself. Come with me. Please.” Daisy looks down. The sun is halfway up now, painting the sky in pink and gold. Daisy looks beautiful in the soft light, ethereal, almost imaginary. Like she’s about to fade away.

Jemma reaches out, catching Daisy’s hand with one of her own, feeling the sudden, irrational need to anchor her here, like she’ll drift out of the world if Jemma lets go. Daisy looks at their interlocked fingers, a curious, half-scared, half-awed expression on her face.

“Okay,” she says after a painfully long few seconds, and Jemma swears her heart is about to break through her ribcage.

“Okay?” she echoes. Daisy steps forward, slipping her fingers into Jemma’s hair. Her fingertips drift over the bite mark on Jemma’s neck on the way, and Jemma shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the cold of the morning or the thinness of the robe she’s wearing.

“Yes,” Daisy clarifies. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” Jemma smiles, and then Daisy is kissing her again, and Jemma doesn’t think she’ll ever be cold again.

my skimmons fics

my ao3

[theclaravoyant]

Hey Clara, I really miss your Trans!Fitz stories, and I just wanted to know: is there any on the making? If not, could we got one with Fitzskimmons? Thank you so much!

AN ~ Thank you so much! I’m really glad you like them :D and this prompt gave me an excuse to write something that’s been floating around in my head for quite some time now… it’s easily able to be interpreted as romantic or platonic due to being set during S1, hope you don’t mind. If you have any other and/or more specific ideas, let me know - in the meantime, enjoy!

Read on AO3 (~1900wd). Rated T. Bus Kids or FitzSkimmons. trans!Fitz.

After the Fall, Fitz comes out to Skye - partly for security reasons and partly because he’s wanted to tell her for a while now and never quite did.

also known as

Jemma rapped her nails on the teacup, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. The tears had stopped, for now at least; her grief momentarily suspended in the wake of the increasingly wide-reaching ramifications that seemed to be coming from this. Communications were down. Someone, somewhere was storming the Academy. Their friends and classmates were Hydra, on the run, or dead. It was enough to turn the stomach – only, she hadn’t eaten anything in over a day.

Fitz, lying on his bunk nearby, turned his Rubik’s cube over and over in his hands. His chest felt tight, his thoughts scattered. He stared blankly. Lost.

“D’you think Brian…” he wondered, trailing off before he could form the words. Voice straining, he recalled: “He was stationed at the Hub.”

The Hub. The Triskellion, as it was officially known. One of the first places to fall – and in a big way, too. Which meant there was almost no way Brian’s story ended well. He probably wasn’t Hydra, Fitz thought – and hoped: they’d been fast friends back in the day. But even if he were loyal, Fitz couldn’t help but recall his own experience in the field, barely scraping out alive from his first firefight after almost having his throat slashed and almost blowing up a plane. The plane he’d been on. He’d been a bumbling giraffe of an agent and last time he’d checked, Brian wasn’t much better, physicality-wise. Being surrounded by enemies, and secret ones at that, he wouldn’t last long.

And to think, earlier this morning, Fitz had teared up over wiping the personal data from everyone’s phones.

Fortunately a knock on the door interrupted him before the tears could well again. Unfortunately though, it was Skye, with a tablet in her hands and a solemn, almost timid expression on her face.

“Hey,” she greeted, similar discomfort mixed with sympathy in her tone. “How’re you guys holding up?”

“Great,” Fitz responded, needling and sarcastic. “Nothing like watching everything you’ve ever achieved in your life get taken away. Fictional people taking all the credit – or worse, our names getting wiped while that lot gets to keep the glory. ‘n glory’s not even the worst of it.”

“Fitz.” With as much strength as she could muster, Simmons scolded him. “Don’t take it out on Skye, this isn’t her fault.”

“Take it out?” Fitz retorted. “I’m not taking anything out. This is calm. I’m… zen.”

He clenched his jaw, and pressed the heels of his hands against the cube as hard as he could. The spiked shell of fury that had materialised to shield his grief and panic from prying eyes quickly crumbled and he sighed. Sitting up, he wiped a hand over his face to clear the clutter and haze.

“Sorry,” he whispered earnestly. “This is just… a lot.”

“I understand.” Skye nodded, then shrugged, and then realised that a shrug was probably not appropriate. In truth, while she saw their pain it was difficult to connect. She didn’t have a history of marked achievement that anyone could take away though, she supposed. Nor did she have the kind of network of acquaintances, colleagues and friends that they did. 99% of all the people in the world who cared whether she lived or died were in this building, going through this same pain, this same fear, as Fitz and Simmons were. As guilty as the thought made her feel, she hadn’t felt so grateful to be alone in a long time.

“We’re the lucky ones, though,” Jemma pointed out. Her tea was going cold. “Our loss is just paper, really, just scraps of code. Accolades. Plenty of people save the world and never get half as much.”

“True,” Fitz acknowledged, though it didn’t make him feel any better.

“I’m – sorry to do this,” Skye pressed, “but I’m actually here on business. I need to know, is there anything else you can think of where your personal details might be found. Old social media profiles, comments on New Yorker articles, a digitized catalogue of your baby photos…”

Jemma shook her head, but Fitz hummed in consternation. Skye raised an eyebrow and he let out a second sigh.

“Actually,” he said, “there is.”

Jemma glanced at him like she knew what he was talking about. Fitz glanced back at her, as if he had been expecting the look.

“It’s okay, Jemma. I was going to tell her sooner or later.”

“Tell me what?” Skye frowned, watching as Jemma brought Fitz what appeared to be an old shoebox, from his shelf. Fitz waved Skye over as he dug through it.

“I want to show you something,” he said. She sat on the bed beside him and took the photograph he held out. On a field of thick, patchy grass – somebody’s yard, most likely – stood a young child, probably around eight years old. A little girl, sandy blonde hair, her fists clenched in the skirt of her dress, which was somewhere between white and yellow – the photo was a little discoloured with age, so it was hard to tell. The girl scowled at the camera, and her eyes were on somebody standing next to the photographer, out of frame.

“School picture day?” Skye quipped, looking back at Fitz.

“It was, actually,” Fitz recalled, with a grimace. “But that’s not why I’m showing you.

Skye scanned the picture again. Not much more came to mind by way of observation, except that the girl looked like Fitz – which was unsurprising, since he had her photograph in his box of momentos from home.

“Who is she?” Skye speculated. “Your sister? D’you have a sister?”

“No.” Fitz took a deep breath. Time to move this along. “That’s me.”

“Really?” Skye frowned down at the picture again, and bit her lip. Part of her wondered if this was not another one of their pranks, though to what end she wasn’t sure, and the timing seemed extremely insensitive, even for Jemma’s usual tactlessless. Plus, as best Skye could tell, the photo was genuine and there was no other reason she could think of for Fitz to expose this kind of secret only to lie about it. Surely it would be easier to fake having a sister. And even if Fitz could pull it off, Jemma wasn’t sitting beside him, holding his hand, with an eerily May-like expression of neutrality for nothing.

“Okay,” Skye said. “I believe you.”

Fitz frowned a little, surprised at the anti-climactic response. “Do you have questions?”

“What kind of security threat do you think this poses?”

“What?”

“That’s why you showed me, right?”

“Right. Yeah.” He blinked, pulling himself together. “I’m not sure. There’s probably not even that much of her online, but you said everything, so, um…”

Feeling his hands begin to fret again, Jemma passed a pillow over. Fitz hugged it close to his chest. Skye was busy scanning the picture into her device and adding it to the search parameters, so Fitz had time to check his voice before he spoke.

“Her – My, uh, name was Bridget. If that means anything.”

“Sure, I’ll add it,” Skye murmured, typing into the search field. She paused, finger hovering above the screen. Fitz seemed hurt, and though her job was important – possibly moreso than anything she’d done with Shield so far – she was finding it hard to ignore the shimmering vulnerability that seemed to emanate off him. Maybe she didn’t understand the depth of what they, as Shield veterans, were going through right now, but Fitz clearly put a lot of weight on coming out to her and she was rejecting him. She knew that feeling far too well.

Taking a deep breath, Skye set the tablet aside.

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to be an ass, I just didn’t want to pry, which is ironic, since I’ve been sifting through everyone’s dirty laundry the last few days…”

“S’okay,” Fitz replied. “Kinda surprised you didn’t know already, actually. Everyone else does.”

“Everyone?” Skye raised an eyebrow.

“It’s in my file, so May and Coulson definitely know, and I told Jemma already. Ward, I’m not sure. Sometimes he says things… but maybe he’s just teasing me, or I’m reading too much in. He does have higher clearance though so who knows.” Fitz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is, I didn’t really tell you because of security. I mean, that helped, but either way it just didn’t seem right that everyone else got to know and you didn’t.”

“Then, thank you,” Skye said. “I wish it could have been a less morbid occasion but here we are. Can I sit?”

Fitz and Simmons scooched along the bed to give Skye some space. Then all three of them leant backward, and huffed out a breath of air as they took sanctuary lying under the roof of Fitz’s bunk.

“Can I ask, Skye,” Jemma wondered, “you didn’t seem that surprised, or confused. Have you encountered this sort of thing much before?”

“I mean, yeah.” Skye shrugged. “I was an underground anarchist hacktivist. You meet all sorts of people in that world, plenty of trans people. Might be a bit out of date but for the most part it’s… pretty normal to me, if that makes sense.”

“Sure you don’t have any questions?” Fitz asked. Skye took a moment to consider, and then ventured forward.

“Okay, I’ve gotta ask. Leopold?”

“I know,” Fitz groaned. “My mum thought of it. Thought it sounded brave and strong. ‘Lion-heart’. You know.” He snorted, and gestured down the length of his body with distaste. “Then she got this string bean.”

Jemma batted at him. “Shush, you. I think you’re very brave. You can’t be brave without being scared first.”

“Yeah… that’s not better.”

Fitz screwed up his nose and Jemma laughed. Skye laughed with her, and her hands joined the tangle of Fitz’s and Simmons’ in the middle of them all. As the humour of the moment fizzled - the weight of the day’s more sobering revelations making itself felt once more - she gave a squeeze.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she said. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. And for the record, I think you’re plenty brave. Not just for this, I mean - I knew you for like, one day, and you’d already been shot at, held at gunpoint, and nearly blown up twice and you still didn’t tell Shield to shove it, so don’t underestimate yourself. But also… there is something to this. Knowing who you are. To be honest, I’m kinda jealous, actually.”

A heavy moment passed between the three of them as they reflected further back than the fall of Shield. It was not only Fitz and Simmons who’d had their worlds shaken lately: Skye’s search for her mother had come to the most heartbreaking dead-end possible, and despite all her hopes, she was an orphan after all.

But after that moment, Fitz squeezed her hand.

“Hey,” he quipped. “Who says I know who I am? I have an existential crisis every other day. Got one scheduled for tomorrow at 10 if you want to join.”

“Sounds good,” Skye said. “I’m in.”

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

I just need enablers! Set post 4x21!

She wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand, still damp from her encounter with Fitz, trying to focus her thoughts and stop the rolling dizziness in her head. Jemma figures it comes from the strain her body has been under, the toll that her muscles and mind are experiencing thanks to being ejected from the Framework and thrown into yet another fight for her life. Honestly, she's too exhausted to even think about the reasons for her exhaustion.

The worst part is that there's nowhere to go. The base is gone, nothing but rubble and in Talbot's control. SHIELD is public enemy number one all over again and all they have it what's on the Zephyr. There's not even a quiet corner Jemma can tuck herself into to cry, which is honestly what she feels like doing right now, as embarrassing as that is.

Instead, she focuses on moving from the front of the plane toward the back, pacing for the lack of anything else to do. She passes the Containment Pod, surprised to find that there's someone inside. Jemma hesitates in the entryway, watching Daisy; she's too caught up to notice that she's being watched, too focused on trying to yank her boot off her foot. The other shoe lays discarded and Daisy's efforts to use her toes to attempt to pry the boot off her foot seem to be fruitless. Daisy finally gives up, grunting as she leans her head back against the side of the pod. She looks as exhausted as Jemma feels, her features wane, the slapdash bandages around her arms starting to come loose.

"Do you need a hand?" Jemma questions softly as she steps into the pod.

Despite her efforts, Daisy just looks startled by her sudden appearance, though when she settles her eyes on Jemma's face she seems to relax slightly. "I was kinda hoping that no one was witnessing this embarrassing moment."

Jemma offers her a smile, a barely there quirk of her lips. "Your secret is safe with me," she assures Daisy. "Besides, you have an excuse. We really do need to do a better job of doctoring you."

Daisy waves a hand, limp and dismissive. "Let's save the world first then worry about my stitches."

"You'll scar," Jemma remarks as she kneels down, loosening the boot's laces and tugging the boot free. She looks up. "There. What are you doing in here?"

Daisy pats the shelf-like seat that she's currently perched on. "Power nap," she says. "We looked for you when we were making the rotation but…" She shrugs. "It looks like my luck is finally turning around: I scored the first thirty-minute nap in this luxury room."

Jemma glances around the pod; it's dirty, battered and hardly an inviting place for a rest. But still it's quiet, the noise from the rest of the plane nothing more than a low murmur, and it's out of the way. Honestly, Jemma can't think of anything else that she'd want more than to crawl into the corner for an hour or so.

"Well," Jemma says as she gets to her feet, "when you wake up come find me. Might as well take care of your stitches while we're still in the air."

She turns to go but doesn't get more than a step before Daisy is reaching for her hand, wrapping her fingers gently around her wrist. "Wait."

Jemma looks back at her but Daisy doesn't let her go. "Stay." Daisy seems surprised by the single word that passes through her lips and shakes her head quickly. "I mean…I know it's not exactly a bed but we could probably both fit and why wait…" She swallows and doesn't look at Jemma. "I don't mind sharing."

Jemma only nods -grateful, exhausted, desperate. Daisy's hand finally slips from her wrist as Jemma moves closer and she wonders what it says that she instantly misses the contact, the connection, the tether.

Daisy is right about both of her points: it's hardly a comfortable bed but they both fit with a bit of maneuvering. The plastic of the seat presses into Jemma's hip but it feels good to be off her feet, to be able to lay her head down, even if she's using her own arm for a pillow.

They're both on their sides, facing one another in the small space. Daisy smells like sweat and blood and earth; Jemma would never admit it out loud but since Daisy had developed her powers, the smell of freshly turned earth, of hard-packed dirt, of damp ground, always reminds her of Daisy. The mixture of smells is oddly comforting and that, in itself, seems almost sad.

For a moment, they only watch one another. Jemma watches Daisy's eyes tracing her features and she can only imagine what she looks like, certain that her appearance has to mirror how she feels inside. "I'm too tired to sleep," she confesses softly and in Daisy's eyes she sees confirmation. "I don't think I can turn my mind off."

"I'm afraid to go to sleep." Daisy's words are soft, her voice scratchy and raw. "Like I'm going to wake up back in the Framework."

Jemma moves closer to Daisy and for a moment she thinks that this proximity, this closeness might mean more to her than it does to Daisy. She presses herself to Daisy's front and her forehead rests against Daisy's shoulder. It doesn't take long before Daisy's arm fits itself around her waist, holding her there and Jemma exhales, her breath tickling the hollow of Daisy's neck.

"You won't," Jemma says softly into her skin and she can hear the beating of Daisy's heart, quick but steady. "I'm here." She feels foolish saying that, seeing as Daisy is the one keeping her anchored here, reminding her of what's real with the weight of her arm and the beating of her heart.

But Jemma feels Daisy nod anyway, her chin brushing against the top of her head. Pressed against Daisy, it's easier for Jemma to close her eyes. She listens to the beating of her heart and it makes it easier for her to quiet her thoughts. She feels the weight of Daisy's arm around her and it makes her feel safer, more connected. This is real, this moment, this place. She's real and so is Daisy.

It's enough. For now, it's enough.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

May remembers these moments, the moments when your own mind wasn't enough to remind you that you were here, alive, that you were a person and a good one at that. When the only thing that would work to bring you back to reality and away from the things you'd done and seen was another person, someone to ground you, to remind you of who you had been before. She's not surprised to find that Daisy isn't alone, that Jemma has found her, that they're asleep tangled together.

The sight is enough to rend her heart, to make her want to put her fist through the wall and fight against the moments, both big and small that have lead them here. Here, to this, to the necessity of turning a hard, plastic bench into a bed. Of having to sleep in thirty minute shifts in order to recharge their bodies and brains just enough to figure out how they're going to make it out this time. Of seeing Jemma and Daisy and remembering what they'd been like years before, quick to smile, to laugh, to fumble, to be soft and gentle.

But there's a saving grace in the moment, a balm to soothe the guilt that May suddenly feels as she looks at them. Jemma seems almost to be smiling, her face tucked into the hollow of Daisy's throat, her fingers curled loosely through the loops of Daisy's pants. And Daisy's expression is blank, serene, her arm around Jemma, holding her close. They've both stopped fighting for the moment, tangled together in a way that makes May feel almost intrusive for watching them.

Seeing them now, like this, it makes May think that maybe they can still be soft and gentle even after everything.

May doesn't move to wake them. She only smiles, stepping out of the pod. She can find somewhere else to catch a bit of shut eye. After she tells the rest of the team not to bother them. They owe a lot to Daisy and Jemma; May figures the least they can do is give them this stolen moment, these lingering smiles, the comfort of another person. It's the little moments they keep them all human and sane; May figures she can live vicariously through them, at least for now.

[ilosttrackofthings]

For the "one to five" sentences meme, can I pretty please ask for an old classic - that is, biospecialist?

girlfriend

Exactly forty-two seconds after they leave the security of Zephyr One, Ward drags Jemma into an alley and orders Kebo to keep a lookout, proving once again that he is incapable of sticking to the straight and narrow even when it means he gets to betray the bad guys. Before she can make a move to fight him however, he’s tugging at the jumper she chose for this mission and muttering, “My girlfriend would never wear this.”

“Well, as I’d never actually date you, it’s rather fitting, don’t you think?”

When he’s pulled the jumper over her head and tossed it aside, he fixes her with a cutting smile. “Well, tonight you are,” he reminds her, his tone mocking, “so we’re gonna have to make a few adjustments.”

“Like wha-” she begins, intent on asking if he has a woman’s wardrobe hidden alongside the weapons in his pockets, but again he surprises her, this time by pressing his lips to her neck and leaving what will surely be an impressive mark on her skin.

naughty

Jemma’s just stepped out of the lab when a wave and a stern look from the end of the hall catch her eye. “Drive safe,” she tells Kenneth and hurries to Mr. Bakshi’s side, hoping she doesn’t appear too eager. (Or should she be eager? Most of her fellow scientists are like frightened rabbits whenever Bakshi’s around but none of them have hopes of moving upstairs; shouldn’t someone who wants to climb the corporate ladder be excited to be so singled out?)

“-thought you might like to meet one of our rising stars,” Bakshi is saying when she draws even with him, effectively ruining her attempts at quashing her excitement.

His companion, however, has quite the opposite effect when he takes her hand without it being offered. “Well, Simmons,” Ward says with a grin, “you’ll have to tell me: do bad girls have more fun?”

magic

When a seminar on Asgard is announced while Skye is in recovery, Jemma doesn’t ask to be allowed to go even though it’s being held at one of her alma maters. And when, a week later, photos of a shirtless Thor begin popping up on tabloid websites (it was a very eventful seminar, it seems), she doesn’t join Skye in her girlish giggling over them.

Skye - and, Jemma imagines, everyone else - think it’s to do with the Chitauri, that she’s become mildly xenophobic since her near-death experience, and she lets them go on thinking less of her because the truth is even worse.

She hates Asgard, hates the brand of science its people dub magic, because while sustained contact with an alien planet is fascinating and exciting, that particular planet has brought nothing but pain to a certain member of the team. Knowing that, she simply can’t like it at all.

protocol

This is wrong, wholly inappropriate, completely against regulations - but those things don’t mean much when SHIELD’s in shambles and she’s wanted Ward for months. If he wants to use her to work through his grief over John Garrett’s betrayal, she’ll gladly let him and deal with the consequences later.

trust

“I can’t tell you,” Grant says, hiding his sense of urgency beneath a mask of care, “but I need you to trust me, can you do that?” He nearly chokes on the words; it’s completely the wrong play to make on Simmons - but then this isn’t exactly Simmons. She looks like her and talks like her and that’s her mind in there, but this is a woman who woke up naked in Grant’s arms and didn’t run away screaming, so this kinda feels like it might be the right move, all evidence to the contrary.

She cups his cheek in her hand and smiles. “Of course I can,” she says with so much sincerity it makes his heart ache.

Yeah, definitely not Simmons.

tender

She would like her privacy for this. She’s due that at least, the dignity of grieving the man she loved without her captors looking on. But when It and Malick leave, Ward remains behind. He takes the weak blows she throws at him and says not a word to her screams and accusations and, when the tears finally become too much, he catches her as she sinks to the floor. He holds her and he shushes her and he tells her that he understands her pain; she thinks she hates him for this more than the way he hurt her.

paranoia

Gray steps aside, letting her have free reign of the apartment while he locks the door. Which might, considering what she’s seeing, be seen as more threatening than if he’d stuck by her side.

“Still think I’m not crazy?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the door.

Cute coffee shop girl aka Jemma doesn’t give him that “oh god, I’ve come home with a serial killer” look he expects, she studies the newspaper clippings and photographs and nightmare doodles that paper his walls like they all really mean something. She wanders to the corner with the string - the one that he quit on months ago because he realized connecting the dots like that was gonna take him to a whole new level of crazy - and pulls free a blurry, blown up vacation photo from some couple’s honeymoon in Puerto Rico.

“I think you’re perfectly sane,” she says, holding up the close-up of a man standing about thirty feet over the bride’s shoulder, “because this man really is that man-” she points to the list of the dead from the battle of New York and the name Grant circled in red- “and he's coming for you.”

puzzle

“How are you alive?”

Grant doesn’t bother to hide his shock; given that they’re currently imprisoned by the Watchdogs - who think Grant is Hive and Simmons is some Inhuman named Crystal - he kinda expected her to ask how he plans on getting them out.

She shrugs (with the arm she isn’t holding to her side) and says, “If we’re going to die, I’d like to have my curiosity satisfied first.”

Footsteps sound outside their cell. “Well, you’re gonna have to live without - literally.” He gives her a wink and readies himself for phase one of their daring escape.

ice

No matter how Skye’s begged, Grant has staunchly refused to look at any of the videos she’s tried to show him of this new internet craze - like all the rest, it’ll be over in a week and his life will be no emptier for missing it - but he knows it has something to do with dumping buckets of water on people. Ice water, he remembers as a few cubes slide across the cargo bay floor to hit his boots.

“Oh my gosh!” Skye gasps. “I am so sorry! We were trying to get Ward!”

Grant, standing face to face with a soaking wet Simmons in a flowery white blouse, is suddenly very thankful for idiotic internet crazes.

luck

“What’s happening right now?” Grant asks while his hands go right on pulling at buttons and zippers (he’s confused, not stupid).

“I’m seducing you,” Simmons says while her own hands push at his shirt so he has to stop long enough to get it off.

Seduction typically involves more than shoving a guy in a closet and tearing his clothes off, but he’s not about to split hairs here. He asks, “Why?” instead, since that seems to be the root of the problem.

She huffs, which does great things for her exposed breasts, and says, “Every man I’ve had romantic feelings for since the Uprising has either died or been permanently injured.”

So she’s planning on turning that jinx on him.

He shrugs and pulls her into another kiss. He’s always been lucky; he’ll play those odds.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

What do you mean this isn’t what happened? I must have been watching a different episode .... ;)

All around her is white and Jemma jerks upright with a start, clawing at the whiteness tangled around her. She stops fighting when she realizes that her enemy is a fluffy comforter and that she's kicking against sheets tangled around her feet. She pushes the blankets away, breathing heavily as she stares at the room around her. She's not on the Zephyr anymore and she's definitely not back at the base. 'Relief' isn't exactly the word that she would use to discover that the plan to get into the Framework has worked; it's more like a begrudging sense of resignation.

Jemma glances around, trying to figure out where her Framework avatar has been placed by the Powers That Be outside of the Framework. She tries to imagine what it must be like for May and Coulson and Fitz and the others, to wake up in this new reality and have no idea that they belong somewhere else.

She doesn't recognize this place. It's nice, quiet and comfortable; she hasn't had a bedroom this big since she left for the Academy. Jemma tries to recognize herself in the décor, tries to find something to suggest that all of this is just programming and coding but it looks real and she can see subtle touches of her tastes in the colors and paintings on the wall.

The bathroom door rattles and Jemma immediately turns her attention back to the more important task at hand, mainly the fact that she's essentially in enemy territory and she can't afford to let her guard down for one instant. There's no telling what story, what reality, has been programmed for her; there's no telling what Aida and Radcliffe imagined for her when they imagined her to be the type of person who would prefer to live in a virtual world. She needs to stay alert and aware; she needs to find Daisy and start unraveling this place piece by piece.

The door swings open and suddenly Jemma is staring at Daisy. Jemma's assumption that Daisy is just part of the Framework is quickly disproven by the equally surprised expression that she sees on Daisy's face. She wasn't expecting to come out of the bathroom and see her either which means that this is Daisy, her Daisy, the one that she fought for her life with, the only person she would trust in this place.

Daisy is wearing a bathrobe, her hair damp and falling in tangles; her cheeks are flushed and Jemma can see a hint of color creeping across the swatch of skin left exposed by the hastily donned robe. For the briefest of moments, it all goes quiet in Jemma's head.

It doesn't last long. "Are you…" Daisy's voice is tentative, cautious, hopeful.

"Me?" Jemma nods quickly. "Yes. I…well I suppose so."

Daisy looks relieved, running a hand through her damp hair. "So totally not fair. I almost drowned waking up in a bathtub and you're all nice and cozy in bed."

Well that at least explains the wet hair and the flushed skin. Daisy seems to consider her words. "Why are you in bed?"

Jemma lifts an eyebrow. "Do you mean why am I laying around at a time like this or why am I in a bed that is in a room that we appear to share?"

The flush creeps up toward Daisy's neck as she nods. "Yeah," she says. "That one."

Jemma gets out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting of the bedroom. She's not wearing much of anything: shorts, a tank top. She can feel Daisy watching her and trying not to. "Well maybe we both entered the Framework in the same place since we had to hack our way in."

Daisy frowns, toying with the tie of her robe to give herself something else to look at. "We were pretty careful about linking ourselves up the avatars that had already been created. The coding was perfect, if I do say so myself," she says with false modesty. "We should have gone where we'd already been programmed to be, not to the same place just because we put ourselves into the Framework."

Jemma gives the room another quick glance again; there's no denying that it looks like the type of place she would have decorated for herself. "Maybe something went wrong somehow and-"

"I don't think so," Daisy says and Jemma turns to look at her, to see why she sounds so certain. Daisy is holding up a picture, one in an ornately glided frame and it takes Jemma a second to realize what she's looking at. It's a picture of her and Daisy, both dressed in ridiculously flowing white dresses.

Jemma looks down at her hand, surprised that she didn't notice the gold band circling her finger before. Suddenly it feels like the only thing that she can see. "Oh."

Daisy puts the picture aside quickly and Jemma can see the glint of something on her finger. They stare at one another and Jemma can't remember ever sharing a silence with Daisy that might be considered uncomfortable. It just doesn't fit their relationship; she's always been at ease around her, always found something to talk about, always enjoyed a companionable silence. The heavy quiet now…it lays heavy in her chest but Jemma feels like any words she might say are lodged tightly in her throat, locked away.

Married. To Daisy. Jemma curls her fingers into a fist but it does little to hide the band around her ring finger. She looks away, suddenly afraid that her face gives her away, that her expression will tell Daisy all her secrets.

Daisy clears her throat. "I…I'm going to go explore the rest of the house. And then we can start making a plan."

Jemma nods, listening as Daisy crosses the room and the door clicks shut behind her. She exhales slowly and her cheeks are hot, prickling with embarrassment. She's just woken up in a virtual reality to find that she's married to Daisy and the only thing she could think to say was 'oh.' Oh. Honestly Jemma doesn't know what's worse: the fact that she couldn't think of anything to say to Daisy or the fact that the idea of being married to her actually sounds perfect and wonderful and every bit like the perfect reality that the LMD Fitz had promised when trying to drag her into the Framework.

Sighing, Jemma shakes her head, moving toward the closet, rooting around until she finds something that looks like something she would wear. The clothes look unfamiliar and strange, not the type of things that SHIELD agents would have in their closet unless a mission called for a bright summer dress or a printed skirt.

Jemma finds Daisy sitting at the kitchen table in a bright, immaculately clean, large kitchen. Daisy's back is to her and Jemma can see that she's fidgeting with the wedding band, twisting it around and around on her finger. There's another picture of them on the counter and in it Jemma is smiling at the camera while Daisy is kissing her cheek. She feels a twinge of jealousy for the version of herself in the photograph. How often has she thought about what it would feel like to have Daisy's lips against her skin?

Daisy glances over her shoulder and drops her hand away from the wedding band, a guilty expression crossing her face. "Hey." She gets to her feet. "You look…" She gives Jemma the once over.

"I know," Jemma grumbles, feeling oddly out of place in her jeans and sheer, flowing blouse. "I couldn't find any tactical gear or button-ups." She means it to be a joke but it falls a little flat.

Daisy lifts her eyebrows. "I think everything is different here," she remarks. "I don't think we're SHIELD agents or…agents at all. I think…I don't have my powers here."

Jemma looks at her. "Are you sure?" It's probably a stupid question but she finds herself asking it anyway. "Have you tried?"

Daisy shrugs. "I don't have to. I can just…I feel it. Like something is missing." She shrugs and then holds up a hand anyway, pointing her palm at a glass sitting on the counter. Nothing, not even a rattle.

"It's just…gone." Daisy shakes her head, lowering her hand. "It's like everything here is…normal. Like we're normal."

Jemma scrunches up her nose, considering the possibility. "Fitz did mention that the Framework was supposed to be like this perfect alternative version of reality, where life was exactly as we wanted it to be without regrets."

"So in this 'perfect reality' we're normal, I'm not an Inhuman and we…we're…married," Daisy sums up and Jemma can hear the forced flatness to her tone like she's trying to list these things like they have nothing to do with either of them.

Jemma nods, clearing her throat. "It would seem that way."

Again, the silence stretches between them.

"Whose perfect reality are we in?" Daisy questions, shifting back on the balls of her feet. She leans against the counter, hiding the photograph of the two of them from view. Jemma kinda misses it, misses the happy moment captured between them.

Jemma can only shake her head. "Well since we both woke up here when we entered the Framework it would be seem like…it's a sort of shared reality?"

Daisy studies her closely and Jemma lifts her gaze to meet her eyes. "Jemma, what's your greatest regret?"

The words feel stuck in her throat again and Daisy's words, quiet and soft, sound like a challenge in this big kitchen. Jemma thinks about shaking her head, about denying that this has any bearing in her reality but she's surprised when a single word passes her lips: "You."

Immediately, Jemma wants to take it back. Not because it isn't true but because she doesn't want Daisy to think that she means anything by it other than the fact that what she regrets, more than anything, is that she's never told Daisy how she feels about her.

But Daisy seems to understand anyway. Because she's moving closer and she's there when Jemma reaches for her and in some back corner of her mind Jemma knows that this isn't real. But Daisy feels real underneath her hands and she can feel Daisy's hands in her hair, can feel her fingers curled around the nape of her neck and it's like she's always hoped it might be and it feels real, irrefutably so, when she kisses her.

Daisy sighs into her mouth and the sound is so quiet, a soft sound of relief and longing and Jemma pulls her closer and kisses her harder and she can feel her heart beating heavily in her chest and it only makes it harder to pretend like this isn't real, like this isn't just happening in her head.

And honestly, right now, Jemma doesn't care if it is or not.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jemma keeps her eyes closed, trying to lay perfectly still. Daisy is kissing the smattering of freckles across her shoulders, her lips featherlight as they move across her skin. If she pretends to be asleep then she thinks this moment might never end; she thinks that maybe Daisy will just keep kissing her, mapping out the patterns on her body with lips and fingertips.

Daisy presses a kiss against Jemma's neck and the jig is up. She laughs, twisting out of reach. "That tickles."

She looks up at Daisy, reaching for her. Daisy comes easily, leaning down to kiss her and Jemma cards her fingers through Daisy's hair, sliding her hand down the curve of her shoulder. Her skin is different here: smooth and unblemished by bruises and cuts and scars. She wonders about these versions of themselves, wonders what they've seen, what they've done, wonders if things were as hard for them as they have been in their reality.

Daisy seems to sense her thoughts because she asks, "What do you think it would be like? To be like this?"

Jemma reaches up to touch her face. She can't seem to help herself, can't seem to keep her hands off Daisy, desperate to memorize the way her skin and body feel against her own. "What do you mean?"

Daisy shrugs, suddenly looking sheepish. "Nothing. Never mind." She moves away, laying back onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. She sighs, looking over at Jemma. "If we were normal. No SHIELD, no powers just…us."

Jemma makes a thoughtful noise. "Well…it wouldn't be us exactly without those things," she points out and Daisy gives her a look. Jemma smiles. "But I know what you mean," she relents. "It would be…strange. It's never been like that, has it?"

Daisy laughs. "Uh, no." She smiles, sighing wistfully. "It is kind of nice to think about the fact that in any universe we would have somehow managed to find each other, SHIELD or not."

Jemma presses her lips to Daisy's shoulder, closing her eyes. There's so much they should be doing, so much they need to be doing. Their team needs them but this…Jemma needs this. And is that so wrong? Can't she put herself first for once? Hasn't she earned it?

When Daisy kisses her, all her doubts are erased just like that. It's easy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Jemma wakes up the following morning in Daisy's arms, she realizes how perfect Radcliffe's Framework really is. There's a story she studied in school before the Academy, a staple of any study of Greek Mythology. She hadn't truly understood it then, too wrapped up in her constant desire to move forward, to learn, to get her hands on everything she could. But now…now Jemma understands the Lotus Eaters perfectly and how easy it would be to stay there forever.

It's not real. It's all in her mind. There's Fitz to think about and Coulson and May and the team. But there's Daisy and there's a perfect reality built just for the two of them where there's no death, no violence, no worry that they might never see each other again.

Jemma snuggles closer to Daisy, closing her eyes, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. But it's getting harder and harder to ignore the guilt, the ever present knowledge that there's something else they should be doing.

It's hard because this is all Jemma can ever imagine wanting to do.

But it's somehow easier when Daisy is the one who brings it up later when they're both in the kitchen cooking a late breakfast. Daisy wears her guilt easily on her face, avoiding Jemma's eyes. "I keep thinking about the others," she confesses as she cracks an egg on the side of the pan. "I keep thinking that we should be doing something else, that we need to be helping them, getting out of this place."

Jemma feels disappointment settle over her even as she nods. "I know," she admits. "We need…we can't stay here forever."

Daisy opens her mouth but doesn't say anything, shaking her head instead. She's silent for a minute, focusing on breakfast like it's the most important thing she's ever done. Finally her gaze inches back toward Jemma. "I know it's not real," she says softly. "But I don't care."

Jemma moves closer to her, slipping her arms around Daisy's waist. "It doesn't matter," she says. "It might not be real here but outside of here, later, once we've saved the team, again," she teases and Daisy smiles slightly, "and stopped Aida and Radcliffe then…it can still be real."

Daisy nods, pressing her forehead to Jemma's. "Yeah," she says softly. "It can."

Jemma kisses her and Daisy smiles against her lips. "The team better really appreciate all the sacrifices we made for them," she remarks, sounding extremely put-out.

Well, Jemma can't help but agree with that. But they can't stay here forever; as real as all of this feels, it isn't and she's getting tired of just being with Daisy in her mind. She wants the real Daisy, bumps and bruises and scars and all. She wants their small bunks back at the base. She wants long stretches of time and quick stolen moments. She doesn't need a perfect reality free of stress and death and violence. She just needs Daisy.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

Three Flowers in a Vase

Okay here is yet another Framework AU because I love it and also because SHIELD is back tonight! This fic is based purely on SHIELD speculation and not any actual spoilers because I don’t like to read spoilers so...speculation.

This fic is also based on a deep fear I’ve had since season 2 that Jemma has been brainwashed by Hydra.

Jemma figures it's probably a little bit like looking in the mirror for both of them. Her body isn't her own, not the one that she's grown used to seeing over the past several years. There are scars and bruises, bullet holes on the stomach. Her fingers trace over them the way she's used to doing with Daisy's. Across from her, Daisy flattens down the fabric of her shirt, hiding her own smooth, unblemished skin from view.

At least she doesn't have the memory of the pain that created the scars, though Jemma isn't sure that's necessarily a good thing. Nothing about this body seems to belong to her and she figures she'd be totally lost, untethered, if not for the person standing across from her.

Daisy's hair is long and she's still wearing the Hydra emblem that almost got her shot on sight. The familiar faces that Jemma has around her are familiar only in appearance; nothing else about them connects back to what she's known before. But at least she's around Bobbi again and Trip, however temporarily.

"That matches up with the information we've had," Bobbi agrees with a nod, ignoring the way Jemma can't help but study the scars she didn't earn. "After you were shot," she indicates the scars on Jemma's chest, "we weren't sure that you were going to pull through. We didn't bother to correct the misinformation that was spread."

Jemma finally lowers her tank top, hiding the scars and bruises. She lifts her head, looking past Daisy and catching sight of her reflection in the mirror across from her. She's all angles and hardness, her eyes sharp and steely. It's different from how she didn't recognize herself after coming back from Maveth. Now she truly understands what it's like to be looking at a stranger.

Bobbi is eyeing Daisy carefully and Jemma can see her hand inching with controlled slowness toward the firearm at her waist. "Are you sure you trust her?"

"Yes," Jemma says sharply and she's pleased that her worry for Daisy translates to authority. "Stand down."

Bobbi does. Jemma could get used to this, though she wishes the reality was different.

"Daisy is a double agent," Jemma tells Bobbi and Trip and Piper, waiting in the doorway of the office that had been Coulson's in another universe. Now it appears to be hers, though it's sparsely decorated and lacks any sort of personal touch. It looks like it belongs to a military tactician not a biochemist. "She's been infiltrating Hydra and gathering pertinent information."

Piper and Trip exchange dubious glances and Trip does little to hide his skepticism. Instead, he looks at Daisy, lifting an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Daisy lifts her chin and Jemma doesn't have to wonder about why she curls her hands into fists. "Yes," she says evenly. "My loyalties are to…" She hesitates, uncertain about how to finish. Does SHIELD exist in this world? "Jemma."

"So it's like that, huh?" Trip actually grins, shaking his head. "Well, girl, don't make us guess: what have you found out?"

The information Daisy supplies lets Jemma know that the long hours that have stretched between them have been full for Daisy; she's been behind enemy lines, with the people they've long since considered their enemy. And, worse, those they never have before.

"One thing I don't understand," Bobbi says when Daisy assures them that she can get them into the Hydra facility she's been to, "is why we're just now hearing about this. I didn't know we had someone on our side working on the inside. Why are we just now getting this information."

Jemma narrows her eyes, feeling a flare of frustration spread through her. It's the opposite of how she wants to be feeling right now but it's the first emotion that's managed to crack through the barrage she's been feeling. None of this is fair. She opened her eyes and woke up in this Hell and found herself face to face with the friends that she still misses every day like they've been physically carved out of her. To save the team, to get out of this Framework, will mean to lose them again. But what other choice does she have? It makes her feel brittle, ready to snap. "Because it wasn't for you to know." Jemma can't stop the words from cracking past her lips and her shoulders seem to straighten on their own, this new and strange body filling the leadership role even if Jemma still hasn't gotten used to it. "Her cover had to be maintained."

Bobbi says nothing but her body language signals that she's yielding the topic. "We have the information," Jemma continues, looking from Bobbi to Daisy and the others. "Now we need to act on it."

Her gaze lingers on Daisy's and Daisy nods almost imperceptibly. They might have been dropped into this reality where Hydra has taken over and Jemma is somehow the leader of the small rebel faction trying to wrest that power away from the many heads of the mythical beast. But this reality doesn't matter. Only their team does and that has to be their priority.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It seems, in some small way at least, that SHIELD does exist in this world. It's evident in the fact that they're still in the base, that some of the gear and files still boast the familiar eagle and that one of the Koenigs -Jemma still isn't sure which one- is there among the other familiar-unfamiliar faces. And the weapons Jemma definitely recognizes. The gun fits comfortably in her hands, a solid connection to the reality they'd left behind and Jemma has no idea when holding a firearm would become a security blanket.

Daisy is standing beside her, checking the rounds in the chamber. Satisfied, she tucks it into the waistband of her jeans, hidden by the tail of her shirt. There's another weapon at her hip and the sight brings a wry smile to Jemma's lips. "I can see you're going prepared."

"Just in case," Daisy mutters, tapping the hilt of the gun. "One of these might have a particular target."

Jemma reaches for her, resting her hand on her hip. "This will all be over soon," she says softly and it sounds like a promise even though neither of them believe it. "He'll be gone again. Dead."

Daisy purses her lips. "Good."

They move away at the sound of footsteps, though Piper looks like she doesn't notice. "Ready, ma'am?"

Jemma nods, stepping away from Daisy and toward the door. They follow Piper through the warren of hallways, the path second-nature. "You know," Daisy says quietly, leaning closer to Jemma as they walk, "this whole thing is kinda hot. Jemma Simmons: boss-ass bitch."

Jemma rolls her eyes. Though she can't resist the urge to look at Daisy, lifting her eyebrows. "I guess you just haven't been paying attention. I'm always like this."

Daisy grins and the sight is enough to make her forget where they are and what they're about to do, however briefly.

The moment passes when they rejoin Bobbi and Trip and the others. "Remember," Jemma says, shaking off the Daisy-induced thoughts in her mind. "Melinda May is not to be harmed. We need her."

Bobbi scoffs. "Right. Of course we need Miss Hydra herself." She rolls her eyes. "And why, exactly, do we need her?"

Jemma and Daisy exchange a look. "She's high up in the hierarchy of Hydra," Daisy says. "She'll have valuable information."

Trip shakes his head. "You'll never break her."

Daisy flexes her hands, more out of habit than anything else. She's already told Jemma that her powers don't work here but she can't seem to shake the impulse to control them. "Leave that to me."

The vague threat -made without backing- seems to do the trick. There's no more conversation about May as they prepare to leave the base.

There's no more conversation about much of anything as they leave the hideout and move toward the Hydra facility. Jemma tries to focus on slowing her breathing, listening to the sound of it as it moves through her lungs and out her nose. The car bumps and jostles her along a road she can't see and her knee is pressing into Daisy's, the touch absent and necessary. Daisy puts her hand on Jemma's thigh and she lets herself enjoy the pressure, just for a moment.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Inside the Hydra facility it smells like metal and blood and sulfur. They'd managed to catch the soldiers inside by surprise, which Jemma figures is to blame for why she feels like they have the upper hand. Not that she knows how the rest of her ragtag team is doing; she has Daisy by her side but the others are gone, having disappeared into the bowels of the building to cut off as many heads as possible. Jemma figures it's probably better like this; if they can just get May then they can leave, leaving the SHIELD base and the rebels behind. Leaving Bobbi and Trip behind. It'll be easier that way.

Daisy is a step in front of her, moving through the hallways with her gun leading the way, her muscles taunt. They come to a doorway at the end of the hall and Daisy tries the knob before motioning for Jemma to step back. "Powers would really come in handy right about now," Daisy gripes with an eyeroll before kicking in the door, making short work of it powers or no.

The room appears to be a laboratory of some kind and the bitter, iron smell only grows stronger here. Jemma grits her teeth against the chemical tang and how it mingles with the smell of old blood. She steps closer to Daisy, taking in their surroundings: the operating tables, the instruments waiting, shiny, on the counters. Daisy clinches her jaw. "This must be where they're operating on the Inhumans."

"Bravo, Agent Skye."

The voice is one Jemma recognizes. It's one that she hears sometimes in her nightmares, one that haunts her for so many different reasons. She has to swallow around the bitter and hot taste of bile in her throat. She turns toward the voice, heart thudding in her chest. Sunil Bakshi. She wonders if he can see the way that her hands are suddenly shaking.

Daisy narrows her eyes and she, too, lifts her weapon. Bakshi's eyes widen, almost comically. "I'm hurt, Agent Skye." He puts a hand to his chest. "I thought we were on the same side."

"Not in this reality," Daisy assures him. "Or any other one. Trust me."

Bakshi scoffs. "Trust you? Hardly. I can't say I was ever taken with your…charms. Not like Agent Ward," he says. "It'll be a pleasure to inform him that his little pet is working with the enemy." His eyes flick toward Jemma.

There's no look of recognition there, not from Bakshi at least. All Jemma can do is stare into the face of the man that she killed.

"I'm sure May will feel quite vindicated, when I tell her," Bakshi continues. "She never trusted you."

Daisy's finger hesitates near the trigger of her gun. "Sorry," she says flatly. "You won't be telling anyone anything."

Again the comic widening of the eyes. Jemma can see it clearly on Bakshi's face: he's enjoying this. There's not an ounce of fear staring back at them. "You're going to shoot me?" He shakes his head. "I think not."

Daisy gives him the once over. He's unarmed and unconcerned. "And you're going to stop me…how?"

Bakshi only shakes his head, moving closer, casually so, letting his fingers drag along the edges of one of the operating tables. Jemma can only watch him, heart hammering, mouth dry. She wants to do something, wants to will her body into action. But the only thing she can remember is the ravenous and predatory way Bakshi had looked at her when she was undercover with Hydra, how he'd made it clear that he wanted to hurt her and slowly. That he wanted to sink his claws in her and that he would enjoy every second of taking her apart piece by piece. All she can remember is realizing that she'd missed, that she'd lost the splinter bomb, that she'd just killed a man.

"May was right to talk about safe-guards; she was right to take precautions," Bakshi says as he looks at Daisy. "How will your rebel friends feel to learn that, no matter what, you'll always belong to Hydra."

Daisy's scowl looks more like a snarl. "Never." The word sounds like a growl.

Bakshi lifts his head. "Take a deep breath."

Daisy furrows her brow. "Huh?"

Jemma blinks and she feels something shifting around in her mind, coming loose, waking up.

"Calm your mind."

Her mind is buzzing and she can feel the vibrations spreading through her bones and muscles, down to her toes.

"You know what is best."

Daisy jabs her gun at Bakshi. "Okay, what the hell are you talking about?"

Jemma can feel an odd warmth flowing through her, calming her. Her muscles feel loose, almost like her mind.

"What is best is you comply."

Right, exactly. Jemma knows this somewhere deep inside and it feels good to know, to be certain of something, to feel a weight lifted off her and given to someone else. To Bakshi. To let him tell her what's best.

"Compliance will be rewarded."

The pieces in her mind suddenly click into place and that tired, always so tired, feeling is gone. Jemma just feels empty, strangely free.

"I am happy to comply." The words slip past her lips easily and Jemma means them. She's ready.

Daisy and Bakshi are both looking at her with the same flabbergasted expression. Bakshi is looking at her with a growing sense of confusion, Daisy with a growing sense of horror.

"Interesting…" Bakshi's confusion is steadily turning to understanding, a sly smile spreading across his face. "This is interesting."

Jemma feels a tightness in her chest, a desperation for what he might say next, what she can do for him.

But it's Daisy who reacts first. She pulls the gun from the waistband of her jeans and pulls the trigger.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Jemma opens her eyes, she feels like her brain is trying to pound its way out of her skull. It's a very unpleasant feeling.

Equally unpleasant is the realization that she's laying on the thin, lumpy mattress in one of the holding cells in the bottom of the base. She can see the mold on the bricks, feel the chill in the air. But none of it makes sense; she knows where she is but not where…in what reality…and why…

Jemma turns her head and there's Daisy, sitting in a chair by the door and Jemma gets the impression that she's trying to keep others out, not Jemma in. There's a bruise on her cheek and her lip is split and still she smiles. "Hey."

"Daisy…" Jemma sits up slowly, pressing a hand to the side of her head to keep her brains where they belong. "What happened to your face?"

"Oh this?" Daisy waves a dismissive hand. "Bobbi and Trip weren't exactly thrilled to find you on the floor and me with a gun in my hand…took some explaining."

Jemma's forehead creases. She remembers the gun, she remembers Daisy pointing it at her. And she remembers… "Bakshi."

Daisy gets up from her chair, walking over toward the bed. Jemma ignores her, wrapping her arms around her knees. "We took him into custody. We couldn't find May but…"

Jemma only shakes her head. "Leave," she says softly.

Of course Daisy doesn't move. "We'll try again. We still have time to find-"

"Daisy, please leave," Jemma says shortly, louder this time. She looks up, meeting her gaze. "I'm not safe to be around."

Daisy actually looks confused. "What are you talking about?"

Jemma scoffs. "You were there." She turns away. "I've always wondered…somehow I've always known…I've felt it inside…"

"Brainwashing," Daisy says flatly, like it has nothing to do with them.

"Programming." Jemma grits her teeth against the word, clenching her jaw. "All this time…"

Daisy puts a hand on her shoulder. "Jemma, don't," she says quietly. "Don't do this to yourself. It's not your fault. You went undercover to help SHIELD, to help all of us. What they did to you…it doesn't matter. It's not you."

Jemma shakes her head. It is her, it's a part of her whether she'd been aware of it or not. She looks back at Daisy. "Bakshi," she says and his name sits heavy in her mouth, like the memory of the chemical and blood smell in the lab. "I killed him."

There's nothing in Daisy's eyes: no flicker of surprise or disgust. Nothing but the steady understanding that suddenly makes Jemma want to scream and hit the wall. "I know."

Jemma opens her mouth but can't seem to find the words that she wants to say. Not that she knows what she wants to say. Not that she thinks there's anything to say.

Daisy takes her hand, holding onto her tightly. "I put the pieces together. It doesn't matter, Jemma…I mean, it does. It does matter. But now…" She shakes her head, brow knitting. "You can't feel bad about it. He hurt a lot of people…he hurt you…those nightmares…"

Jemma shakes her head and Daisy stops, falling silently. "I don't know what to do, Daisy," she says quietly and she doesn't resist when Daisy pulls her closer, putting an arm around her. "I don't know how to help you."

"What do you mean?" Daisy looks at her. "We have a plan. We're in this together."

"I'm a time bomb…a Hydra weapon." Jemma closes her eyes. "If they get the chance, they'll just activate my programming again and who knows what I'll do…"

The idea of being in Bakshi's control or, worse, Ward's is enough to make her stomach turn and the sensation of swallowing down bile return. If Ward ever got his hooks into her mind she can only hope that Daisy would have the sense to use a different gun.

"Hey, that's not going to happen, okay?" Daisy takes Jemma's face in her hands, meeting her gaze. "I won't let it and neither will you. We're going to get out of this place, with our team. And we're going to do it together. Because they aren't in charge here, we are."

Jemma shakes her head but she doesn't move away. "You make it sound so easy."

"Because I can be a near-sighted idiot," Daisy says breezily. "And because I trust you. I know you. You're still you. You've always been you. They can't change that."

Jemma is embarrassed by the prick of tears. She wants so badly for Daisy's words to be true but she can't shake the doubt, the hurt, the distrust in herself. She can't push aside the violation she feels knowing what's been done to her.

But even more, she can't lose Daisy, can't leave her. "Together or not at all." She can barely hear herself but she knows that Daisy can.

Daisy nods slowly, kissing her softly. "Together."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Outside the Framework, Jemma can still feel the words in the back of her mind. It's impossible to shake, this knowledge that her mind is not completely her own. They'd known that Hydra's brainwashing techniques could be implemented without the subject's knowledge, she'd just never realized the irony of that understanding before.

Jemma lets out a slow breath, trying to center herself.

Take a deep breath.

Jemma closes her eyes, focusing on Bakshi's face in her memories. The one that she sees in her nightmares, the predatory animal wanting only to hurt her.

Calm your mind.

Jemma exhales between her teeth, tightening her hands into fists.

You know what is best.

She hits out at the bag swinging in front of her, hard enough and without the proper form to send a jolt of pain through her arms.

What is best is you comply.

The bag swings back and she hits it again. She's lacking form and technique but that's not what she's here for.

Compliance will be rewarded.

"You're going to hurt yourself."

Jemma jumps, startled. May is standing in the doorway and still the sight of her, the real her, is nearly enough to make Jemma feel better about everything.

Well, not everything. But it's a start.

"May-"

"It's late," May says, stepping into the gym. She takes in Jemma's posture, the swinging bag. "You're going to break your hand if you keep punching like that. I know Daisy has been working on posture with you."

Jemma nods, feeling chastised. "I know. I…"

May only nods. "You wanted it to hurt." It's not a question so Jemma doesn't answer. May steps up, holding a hand on the bag to stop the pendulum motion. "What are you doing in here, Simmons? You should be resting."

Jemma can't help the slightly defiant look that flashes across her face. "So should you."

May only looks amused. "Is this about Hydra? Bakshi?" She questions. "The brainwashing?"

She'd told the team of course. It had felt like a confession almost, the way she'd hoped that they would absolve her of this. But when they had, it hadn't made her feel any better. Daisy hadn't made her feel any better. Hitting the bag hadn't made her feel any better either.

"I feel…" Jemma shakes her head, trying to knock loose the word she's looking for. "Used. Dirty. What have I done that I don't remember-"

"Don't," May says shortly and when Daisy had said the word it had been an entreaty. When May says it, it's a command. "Don't do that yourself. You're still you: a good agent and a good person. Someone I trust with my life. And I don't say that to everyone."

Jemma feels like the only thing she's been doing lately is shaking her head. "You shouldn't trust me."

"Actions speak louder than words, Jemma," May says and the Framework stretches between them, the things that May had done there, that Jemma and Daisy had saved her from. That Jemma had saved her from. "It might always be a part of you but it isn't you."

Jemma doesn't say anything but she likes the certainty in May's voice.

"Go to sleep," May says gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Rest. In the morning, have Daisy help you with your technique."

She's teasing her and it makes Jemma smile, however slightly. "Good night, May," she says softly, heading for the door.

May doesn't say anything but Jemma can feel May's eyes on her as she leaves the gym.

Daisy is still asleep, resting on her back, one arm flung over her eyes. Jemma watches her, the slight smile still in place. The only sound in the room is the steady whisper of Daisy's breathing.

Jemma slips into bed beside her and Daisy doesn't wake up even as she moves her arm from its position across her face to rest against Jemma's waist. Jemma can still hear the voice in the back of her mind, she can still feel it there, implanted. But it's quieter now, easier to mute. And she sleeps.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

So about a year and a half ago I was writing Halloween stories and got a prompt where Jemma was a Victor Frankenstein in the making and managed to bring Daisy back from the dead and I kinda fell in love with the universe and concept and I got more prompts about it and...well they’ve been sitting in my inbox pretty much since then. But something in me really wanted to revisit that AU so here is a companion story to the original Dr. Frankensimmons, which can be found here.

The thing with bringing someone back from the dead is that there's really nowhere else to go from there. For even the best and brightest minds, reanimation is probably a fair pinnacle for any career. Jemma Simmons isn't entirely sure that she's comfortable with the idea of peaking at the age of 25, even if she does theoretically have the ability to reverse the natural order of death.

"Natural order of death?" Daisy repeats with a smirk on her lips. "That's really dramatic. Are you auditioning for the Twilight Zone or writing a paper?"

Jemma frowns, narrowing her eyes. "Apparently I'm doing neither thanks to people insisting on continually bothering me."

She'd just been talking out loud, bouncing ideas off of Daisy while attempting to formulate a letter to Anne Weaver, Dean of the Biochemistry department, suggesting the ways that the human body might be brought back to life if caught within a certain window. She feels like she has to be careful in what she says, dipping her toes so to speak in the possibility rather than admitting that she's done such a thing.

Daisy rolls over, laying on her back on Jemma's perfectly made bed. Well, it was perfectly made before Daisy had decided to flop all over it and wrinkle the sheets. "So you're really doing this, huh?"

"Huh?" Jemma's focus is already back on her laptop and the hypothesis she's trying to formulate for Dr. Weaver. Daisy has become such a continual presence over the past year that she feels like she's only vaguely aware of her. She's comfortable, a constant.

Daisy props herself up on her elbows, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "You're really doing it," she repeats with an exaggerated eye-roll. "You're going to tell the world what you can do."

Jemma frowns, her brow furrowing at the idea. "Well, I don't want to get carried away. It's not like I have many test subjects or data to pull from and-"

"Hello?" Daisy gestures at herself. "What more proof do you need?"

"Don't take it personally, Daisy," Jemma says gently. "All good theories need to be tested time and time again for scientific soundness."

Daisy gives her a look. "Should I be jealous? Am I going to be replaced by someone less…lively?"

Jemma tosses a pen in her direction. "Oh stop it," she chides. "I'm simply saying that there's no concrete evidence that…what happened with you can be repeated again and again. At least, not without additional experiments and data."

"You should go on Oprah," Daisy says, making herself comfortable on Jemma's bed again. "I'm sure she doesn't care about experiments and data."

Jemma shakes her head. "Well, I do."

Not that she really knows where to go from here. Daisy has a point: it would be odd to find another recently dead body and reanimate them and then have them hanging around. With Daisy things are…complicated at best. She'd originally insisted on keeping her around for constant observation to monitor her vitals and the lasting effects of what she'd done. But now…now it's less about the science and more about…Daisy. It's been over a year since the evening that life had sparked back into the unfortunate, young car-crash victim and Jemma feels like she can almost, nearly safely say that Daisy is, for all intents and purposes, alive. For good. But Daisy is a friend and she makes her smile and keeps her company and yes more often than not she makes Jemma's cheeks turn pink and her heart beat a little faster than normal and all too often Jemma has found herself longing to press a kiss to her lips. Now it's almost like Daisy is just one of the group, like she's always been there.

The fact that Fitz and the others seem to have accepted her as one of their own only further muddles things. Or maybe it only makes them easier? Having her friends accept what she'd done and the fact that she well and truly had brought Daisy back from the dead makes it easier for Jemma to remind herself that she hadn't just dreamt up the whole bizarre thing. Having her friends accept Daisy as a member of their group and even someone they share a roof with…well that only makes things a little more complicated in the wanting-to-kiss-her department.

Jemma doesn't mind that Daisy lingers in her bedroom, sprawled out silently on her bed while she continues working on her theory for Dr. Weaver. It's nice having her there; it's always nice having her around, just listening to the quiet sound of her breathing and feeling relaxed by her presence. It's odd that Daisy has that effect on her. It's even more odd to think about how they never would have crossed paths at all if circumstances had been even the slightest bit different. Not that Jemma wastes too much time thinking about that; no, she has a proposal to write.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Okay, I think I have an idea."

This is the first thing Daisy says when Jemma returns home from the lab the following afternoon. She's sitting at the kitchen table while Daisy is putting a kettle on the stove and Bobbi is sitting across from her, chewing on the cap of her pen while she studies the textbook spread open in front of her.

"An idea about what?" Jemma questions, closing her eyes slightly. It's nice to sit down after a full day of classes and working as a TA and then running a lab for underclassmen. She's grateful that Daisy is already working on getting the water boiling.

"Your letter to Dr. Weaver," Daisy replies, "your science experiments."

Daisy works from the house, doing remote tech support for people who honestly give new life to the "did you try turning it off?" memes. Despite the year of success, Jemma is still nervous about repercussions or side effects that they haven't yet thought of, plus the whole legally dead issue, all of which just made it easier for Daisy to get hired to freelance from home. Because of this, she's in a unique position to watch the neighborhood comings and goings, studying the people they share the street with out the window and from the porch. She knows most of them by name and a few of them she's even on speaking terms with.

Including their next-door neighbor, Mike, and his eight-year-old son. The other member of their family is a gangly Pitbull, recently out of puppy-hood but still a little too uncoordinated for his big paws and floppy ears. The dog, Locke, makes a habit of slipping out of the fence and appearing in their backyard or on their porch, probably because Hunter makes a habit of slipping him scraps of whatever food is handy.

"So, Mike was outside working in the yard while Ace was at school," Daisy is relaying as she takes the kettle off the stove, pouring the water into Jemma's favorite mug and bringing it over to the table. "And Locke gets out of the fence like usual. And he goes running into the street. And-"

Jemma sits up straighter in her chair, gasping and pressing a hand to her mouth. "Daisy, no," she says softly, her eyes growing wide with horror. "No. He didn't-"

Daisy purses her lips, nodding. Even Bobbi is paying attention now, face twisted in an expression of second-hand sympathy. "Yeah. It was awful." She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head against the memory. "And then watching Ace get off the bus and Mike was waiting for him to tell him…yeah definitely not my favorite day ever."

Jemma's hand is still covering her mouth and she can only shake her head again. "That poor little boy."

"But there's a light at the end of this tunnel!" Daisy points out brightly and both Jemma and Bobbi look at her curiously. "You did say that you were looking for more test subjects…"

It takes Jemma only a second longer to realize what Daisy is getting at. "Have you lost your mind?" Her eyebrows arch upward, her eyes widening. "How on earth would we explain that? 'Ah, I just dug up your dead dog and brought him back to life to see if it would work and it did so here!' I'm not sure that's actually helpful."

Daisy nods understandingly. "I see your point. But I think it's worth thinking about."

Unfortunately Jemma does think about it.

She thinks about it so much that several hours later she's knocking on Fitz's bedroom door with Daisy hovering over her shoulder. "Come on. I have something I need your help with." She turns to go only to pause, reconsidering. "We need shovels."

Jemma is pretty sure the only reason Fitz and Trip follow her and Daisy outside is sheer curiosity.

Not that Trip looks particularly invested in their late-night excursion when it leads them to the Petersons' backyard and the pile of fresh earth by the flower garden. "Oh hell no." Trip shakes his head, looking plaintively at the other three. "Look, I'm here for Daisy being an undead American and all that but I'm not sure I feel comfortable digging up a little boy's dog and trying to bring it back to life."

"Think of it as a science experiment," Jemma says cheerfully as she digs the tip of the shovel into fresh earth. "You're helping humanity."

Trip settles for helping humanity by keeping watch on the sleeping house behind them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jemma's experiment blows the power out in the entire block.

She's inclined to say that it's all worth it when the lump underneath the blanket spread out on an old card table in their garage starts moving. It's difficult, at first, to see in the light of her cell phone and Daisy's but there's no mistaking the sound of the confused whimpering that fills the garage seconds later.

The sheet falls away as Locke moves unsteadily to his feet, whining when he falls back onto his side. At least he seems to recognize Jemma and Daisy, thumping his tail hopefully when he spots them.

"You did it!" Daisy's arms are around Jemma before she's even really registered that yeah, she did do it. She actually managed to replicate her experiment and produce the same results. Namely she managed to bring another dead entity back to laugh.

But Jemma's mind stops celebrating its scientific discovery when it registers that Daisy is holding onto her tightly. Jemma moves to hold her without a second thought, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Even still Daisy is cool to the touch and her fingers and toes are like ice. Jemma knows this from firsthand experience thanks to their movie nights and Daisy's refusal to see how pressing her feet into Jemma's calves to get her to squirm is anything less than hilarious. But holding onto her isn't chilling in the least; Jemma feels like she's never been warmer.

It quickly becomes clear that they're no longer holding onto each other to celebrate the success of bringing Ace's dog back to life. Honestly, Jemma can't remember anything in the moment aside from Daisy's arms around her.

The dog quickly snaps her back to the present, letting out a loud yip and tumbling off the table, sending all the wires and machinery crashing to the ground.

Jemma and Daisy pull away from each other quickly and Jemma is pretty sure that the color in her cheeks matches the heat that she feels at the tips of her ears. "Oh, um, let me…" She trails off, moving toward the dog tangling itself up in expensive scientific equipment.

"Well you did it," Daisy says again, clearing her throat. "Dr. Frankensimmons strikes again."

Jemma can only roll her eyes. "I can't believe Fitz mentioned that to you," she grumbles. "That really is an awful nickname."

"Or," Daisy muses, "is it a strangely perfect one?"

Daisy joins her in helping free Locke from all the wires and monitors and by the time they finish it doesn't seem like there's anything wrong with the dog at all. Jemma figures it would be even impossible for her to believe that he'd been dead fifteen minutes ago if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. There are a few indicators: his fur has gone strangely grey, a side effect that didn't happen with Daisy, and his back, right leg doesn't seem to be in working order anymore. But, all in all, she considers it a success.

A terrifying, exhilarating, success.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There's a knock on her door, surprising Jemma. It's nearly three in the morning but she's too wired to sleep, trying desperately to record everything about the night for her records. Her handwriting is crammed into every available space, spilling out to the margins and she knows that a lot of it is rambling and lacking scientific merit but it still seems important to record everything. It might help her make sense of the strange heaviness that she suddenly feels in her chest, the implications of what she's done that are starting to take root. With Daisy she could have passed it off as a fluke, a moment where science and fate had lined up perfectly to create the impossible. But she's done it again and…honestly Jemma isn't sure what to think.

It's surprising when the knock startles her from her reverie but not entirely unwelcome. Though she knows it's late, Jemma's eyes still glance toward the clock by her bed. "Come in?"

The door creaks open and she's not surprised to see Daisy step into the room. "Hey," she says quietly so as not to wake the rest of the house. She closes the door softly behind her. "I just did another check on Locke: still alive and kicking. Literally. I think he's chewed up a pair of Hunter's shoes."

Jemma smiles, tucking her pen into the pages of her journal and setting the book aside. "A necessary sacrifice made in the name of science," she declares, though she's not sure that Hunter will feel the same way.

Daisy sits down on the bed beside her and Jemma can't help but notice the distance between them. It seems larger than usual, as though Daisy is very aware of their proximity. She's not sure what to make of this; is Daisy keeping her distance because the moment in the garage made her uncomfortable or because she hasn't been able to stop thinking about it either?

Jemma feels a pang in her chest to think that it might be the former and an exhilarating rush at the thought of it being the latter.

"I…" Daisy doesn't rush to finish up the thought that she'd started so uncertainly. She lets her eyes travel around Jemma's neat and tidy room, the desk the only source of disaster in the place. Finally her eyes settle on Jemma again. "I really didn't come in here to talk about Locke."

Jemma wonders if her nonchalance looks as forced as it feels. "Oh?" She shifts, uncertain. "What did you want to talk about?"

Even as she asks the question, Jemma thinks she knows the answer. She thinks she can see it in Daisy's eyes. Her heart lurches, making her feel off balance and almost painfully full of anticipation.

"It would be weird, right?" Daisy asks quietly. "For us to…?" She seems unsure and uncertain for the first time since Jemma has known her. "For me to feel the way I do about you…if we…"

Jemma reaches out a hand, gently pressing her palm against Daisy's chest. Beneath her hand she can feel the slow and steady heartbeat there. The reminder that Daisy is alive. That they both are.

"No," Jemma says quietly, unable to focus on anything but that steadily beating heart and the coolness of Daisy's skin beneath her hand.

They move together easily and kissing Daisy is different than kissing anyone else before her. Not because her lips are cold or because the kiss is slow, tentative and unsure. But because it's Daisy that she's kissing and it's all she's wanted to do for so long.

Daisy rests her forehead against Jemma's, a faint smile on her face. "I'm really glad we finally did that."

"Me too," Jemma assures her, moving her hand away from Daisy's chest to curl around her neck, moving her close for another kiss. It makes no sense to stop when they've finally just gotten started.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jemma has no idea how Daisy does it but by the time she arrives home from campus the following day, Locke is back at the Peterson household and running around with Ace in the yard. Mike sees her heading up the walk and waves, a smile on his face; curiosity compels Jemma to walk over.

"I'm sorry about what happened yesterday," Jemma says tentatively, figuring that the statement could be applied to a multitude of things depending on the story that Daisy told him. Her eyes linger on Ace and the dog, uncertainty making her skin prickle. She'd wanted to keep Locke around for further observation but clearly fate had had other plans.

Mike only nods. "Yeah it was hard on Ace," he says with a sigh. "I wasn't sure about getting another dog but Daisy found this one and…he's a little bit like Locke, don't you think?"

There's a bit of doubt in Mike's eyes and Jemma knows the expression of someone trying to talk themselves out of their own skepticism. She nods, watching boy and dog roll around in the yard. "Yes, I can see that."

Jemma finds Daisy in the kitchen, listening to Leon Bridges as she scrolls through something on her phone. It seems insanely easy for Jemma to walk right over and press a kiss to her lips when Daisy lifts her head expectantly. "I see the Petersons got a new dog."

"A new old dog," Daisy confirms. "I think it's a win-win."

Jemma slips her arm around Daisy's shoulders, making a skeptical noise. Daisy only grins at her. "Maybe you've found your true calling: fixing childhood broken hearts one pet at a time."

"Well let's not get carried away," Jemma cautions. "More research might be necessary but I'm not about to start advertising this as a service."

The next day Bobbi comes home with a shoebox and a hopeful expression on her face. Jemma doesn't even have to open the lid to know what's going to be waiting inside.

Well, she does need more data for her research.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

well I'm gonna do the obvious and say skimmons here for it

I really wanted to write today but work was crazy so…this will probably be the only thing I actually “write” today so…Let’s do it! Thanks friend!

Who said “I love you” first:

Daisy had been thinking it pretty much since the very first time they kissed because hello how could you not want to say that to the beautiful Jemma Simmons? But she’s never really said those words before, not since she was little and thought it mattered. So the first time she says it it’s almost an accident, something that slips out while she’s laughing at something ridiculous that Jemma has done and she kinda tries to laugh it off with a roll of her eyes. But she means it, she definitely means it. And later she tells Jemma again without the eye rolling and the laughter because she wants Jemma to know she means it.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background:

Both of them but definitely Jemma for sure. I mean we all saw who fixated she was on pictures and videos during her time on Maveth so I absolutely believe she’d have the goofiest picture of Daisy possible. And Daisy pretends like it’s terrible but obviously she loves it.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror:

Daisy doodles absently because she has a tendency to let her mind wander while she’s in the bathroom. She does some good thinking while waiting for the shower to heat up, okay? So Jemma notices all her absent doodles: lopsided daises or comically large hearts. And then Jemma starts leaving messages for Daisy and mostly she loves the idea of the messages appearing little by little in the steam of the shower for Daisy to notice.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts:

I think they would both pick things up for each other throughout their various exploits and Daisy keeps a few of the gifts in a place of honor next to her hula girl. Jemma claims she’s never been one for knickknacks but her work space is a testament to all the places Daisy has been.

Who initiated the first kiss:

Jemma “No Chill” Simmons because hello they could be sucked into an alien rock at any time right? You just never know what might happen and Jemma isn’t apt to wait around for something she wants.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning:

Sometimes Daisy has to get up so early it’s still practically night because she’s got a mission or May has roped her into some absurd training. Sometimes Jemma has to get up to go to the lab or leave for a speaking engagement or meeting. Either way, they love the sleepy half-kisses that start their day.

Who starts tickle fights:

Neither. They both have a strict no tickling policy. Tickling is practically torture.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower:

Ask? Daisy doesn’t ask. She just hops right in because Jemma won’t mind, right? And she doesn’t, but that’s beside the point.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch:

Daisy is always laser-focused in whatever she’s doing, whether she’s working on her computer, studying reports of Inhuman activity or preparing for a mission and sometimes her mind gets so locked in place that she can’t remember anything else outside the task at hand. Jemma always gets a bad rep for forgetting to eat but she knows the importance of three square meals a day and she’s going to make sure that Daisy gets lunch too. Plus they get to eat together, which is always a plus.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date:

They don’t really have a “first date” in the strict sense of the word. They’ve had so many dates and firsts and once their first official meeting involved trying to stop a guy from exploding and then they had to keep their airplane from exploding…? Kinda hard to be nervous on a date. But even still, Daisy is more shy and quiet than usual because things like this don’t work out for her and she’s a little terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing that makes Jemma change her mind about moving from friends to something else and it manifests itself into quiet nervousness. 

Who kills/takes out the spiders:

Daisy. Ain’t nobody got time for all those legs.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk:

Jemma “No Chill” Simmons and Daisy loves it because her accent gets thicker and her cheeks get all rosy and she puts her arm around Daisy’s shoulder as she alternates between whispering sweet-nothings in her ear and loudly assuring the team that Daisy “rocks her world.” And also that she loves her. In case that wasn’t clear.