#fitzsimmonsftw

[mendedserpent]

My favourite episodes are space time, the team, hot potato soup and 5x06 (I can’t remember the name)

congrats spacetime is the correct answer you win

I talked about the team and fun and games (5X06) already, but I love love love hot potato soup that ep makes me tear up a little bit every time... the ep name could be better tho

send me your favorite aos episode and I’ll judge you

[theartofbeinganerd]

I've been loving all your fics recently. Do you think you could write a showdown between Aida and Jemma in the framework, and Aida like makes Fitz chose between them or something?

Aww thank you!! :) And of course, thank you for the prompt! 

*Set during 4x17

(Ao3)

-

Jemma isn’t sure where Ward and Coulson disappeared to, onlyremembers fleeing from the incoming HYDRA jet at Radcliffe’s insistence. Theisland he calls a prison is relatively small, but apparently is still largeenough for her to get lost fairly easily. Still, she knows anything’s betterthan sticking around to get arrested (or worse)by HYDRA, and she can always meet back up with Coulson and Ward after thethreat has passed.

With that in mind, Jemma slows her pace to duck behind astring of nearby bushes. Once she’s hidden, she bows her head and attempts toget her rapid breathing under control, to calm the racing beat of her heartpounding painfully in her chest.

She’s successful, until both pick right back up at the soundof a chilling voice saying somewhere behind her, “Jemma Simmons.”

Scrambling to her feet and whirling around, Jemma’s wideeyes land on AIDA, striding confidently toward her, cape billowing out behindher. Then, her gaze finds the figure just paces behind AIDA, and for a moment,she forgets how to breathe entirely.

“Fitz,” she can’thelp but gasp out, taking an automatic step in his direction, her handtwitching slightly toward him, her fingers aching to trace his beautiful faceand to feel his skin beneath them.

“Don’t talk to him,” AIDA tells her sharply, her eyesnarrowing into sharp slits. “Not when you only seek to hurt him.”

Jemma’s hands curls into fists so tight, her nails dig intoher palms hard enough to sting. “I would neverhurt him, you glorified vacuum cleaner! I’mnot the one that had to kidnap and brainwash him in order to force him to standby my side!”

AIDA’s jaw visibly clenches, a fire in her eyes that onlyserves to fuel Jemma’s righteous anger. “You enslaved me, treated me as an object, took away my free will!”

Scoffing in disbelief, Jemma throws out her hands as shesnaps the reminder, “You are artificial;you never had free will because you weren’t madewith any, AIDA! And even if you had, it still doesn’t give you the right totake the free will of others!”

AIDA practically trembles with fury, and she takes a coupleof threatening steps in Jemma’s direction, though Jemma stands her ground. But,after a moment, AIDA simply pauses, turning to glance back at Fitz. He appearsa bit confused by the insults they’re trading, but his brow is lowered in clearanger, and suddenly, AIDA appears completely calm.

Much to Jemma’s concern, a smirk begins to form on AIDA’slips as she turns back to Jemma, and offers, “Why don’t we let Leopold decide?”Jemma sucks in a breath as Fitz glances curiously at AIDA, then toward Jemmawith an empty hatred that sends a shiver down her spine. AIDA elaborates, “Leopold,who would you rather go with; me, the one who has always supported and lovedyou, or this woman, who no doubtseeks to control and use you?”

Before Fitz can get a word out, Jemma takes a desperate stepforward, insisting fiercely, “I love him! I have always loved him, always been there for him and cared for him so muchthat it…it makes my heart ache to see him in pain, to see him struggle, to seehim being so carelessly used bysomeone so twisted.” AIDA’s eyes narrow once more, worriedly darting to Fitz,who is eyeing Jemma suspiciously. Ignoring AIDA completely, Jemma speaksdirectly to Fitz then. “Fitz, we promised to never let anything tear us apartagain, and I can’t…” For a moment, words fail her, but she fights back theemotion threatening to steal her breath so that she can continue, “I’m notstrong enough to live in a world without you in it either, Fitz, so please, don’t make me because I…I love you.”

Finished with her plea, she releases a shaky breath, holdingher head high even as her bottom lip trembles, and she waits. Fitz studies herfor a moment, but his eyes continue to lack any kind of recognition, and a tearsteadily rolls down Jemma’s cheek.

Then, Fitz’s expression hardens, and he wordlessly raisesthe gun he’d been carrying at his side. As AIDA watches on, smirkingtriumphantly, he points the gun directly at Jemma’s heart.

Jemma inhales sharply, closing her eyes briefly as thereality of this moment settles in and she accepts her fate. She nearly crumblesunder the sheer pain as her heartshatters in her chest; not because she’s about to die, but because she knowsthat when Daisy rescues Fitz from this terrible world, when he wakes up toremember what he’s done to her, it will killhim.

Though she already knows that nothing will help him to healfrom this (if it had been the other way around, she would never forgive herself, wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt andthe memories and the emptiness), shestill hopes that she can leave him with something to ease the pain, if onlyslightly.

So, Jemma opens her eyes, curving her lips into a watery butsincere smile, trying to infuse into her gaze the endless, brilliant,overpowering love that she feels for him throughout her entire being. She wantshim to know without a doubt that she can never blame him for the completecontrol AIDA seems to have over him, that nothingcan make her love him any less – even if he takes her life now.

Doing her level best to keep her voice steady, she remindshim, “I’ll always be with you, Fitz,” though her voice breaks on his name, afew more tears escaping.

Then, Jemma takes a breath and closes her eyes, calling tomemory the last time she saw herFitz, in the Russian’s base, loving concern in his eyes as she went off withDavis. She wants him to be the lastthing she sees, not this hollow mockery of Fitz as he pulls the trigger on her.

She waits a moment, then another, another…

Then, the tense, still air around them is broken by thecrack of a gun going off, followed by a high shriek.

Jemma’s eyes fly open, her gaze immediately landing on AIDA.She’s crumpled on the ground, staring up at Fitz in horrified shock, cradlingher leg where blood oozes out from between her fingers. “Leopold!” she gasps.

Fitz quickly steps away from her, still holding the gun updefensively. “Don’t,” he snaps, “Don’ttalk to me. I know who and what you are, AIDA.”

Jemma’s heart begins to beat faster with cautious hope asshe watches Fitz continue to put distance between himself and AIDA, until he’scloser to her than the woman collapsed at their feet.

“Leopold, please,” AIDA begs, looking truly terrified now,and Jemma feels a lick of satisfaction.

“You almost made me kill Jemma!”Fitz shouts back, his voice torn raw with rage. The hand holding the gun isshaking, and without a single thought that perhaps she could be making a mistake,Jemma steps forward until she can lay her hand gently over his. Her fingers aretrembling as well, with adrenaline from such a close brush with death, and theoverwhelming emotion inside of her at having her Fitz back.

“It’s okay, Fitz,” she assures him soothingly, “I’m okay, we’reokay.”

Finally, he turns to face her, his eyes wide and glazed withtears. There’s fear and love and guilt and relief at war in their depths, andJemma’s heart surges in her chest because she knows this is her Fitz, his eyes no longer the blank emptiness ofthe Doctor’s. “I’m so sorry, Jemma,” he whispers shakily, “I didn’t even remember you…how could I not rememberyou?”

“Shhh,” sheshushes him gently, cupping his cheek and scuffing a thumb over his skin. “It’salright, Fitz; you came back to me.”

Fitz releases a shuddering breath, gazing at her anothermoment before he nods, hesitating just briefly before he leans forward to resthis forehead against hers. She can’t help but allow her eyes to slip closed, soakingin how wonderful it is to have himclose, to have her Fitz back, rightwhere he belongs.

In that moment, she knows that now, everything will bealright; they’ll save their friends and escape the hellhole that is the Framework,because together, they can accomplish anything.

After a lengthy moment, they part reluctantly, opening theireyes to briefly lock gazes and share a tiny smile.

However, it only took another second for them to realizethat AIDA has disappeared; there’s only a puddle of blood left behind, crimsonstanding sharply out against the lush green grass. Fitz swears under hisbreath, but Jemma lays a comforting hand on his arm. “We’ll find a way to fixthis, now that we’re together,” she promises.

Taking a moment to get his emotions under control, Fitzturns back to her and nods. “Together,” he agrees firmly.

Jemma slides her palm down the length of his arm, until shefinds his hand and can lace their fingers together. “Are you ready to save theworld, then?” she asks, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Finally, Fitz gives a smile in answer to hers, squeezingher hand within his. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Then, his smile twitches, slowlyshifting until it’s a smirk, and he adds, “And, I know what her plan is.”

[the-nerdy-stjarna]

Could I prompt something? How about Fitzsimmons go shopping between season 3 and 4 and Fitz complains while Jemma makes him try on shirts. Or something where Mace finds out about Fitzsimmons but make it angsty coz idk i have a problem.

Hello! I finally came around to this and sort of tried to combine both suggestions in your prompt into a single (two-chapter) fic. Now the angst-factor is very minimalistic, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless.

I was gonna post one chapter tonight and the other tomorrow, but then I remember how nice it is not having to wait, so I just went ahead and posted both chapters :)

Find it on AO3:

The Times They Are a-Changin’

Sneak Peek:

Jemmacrosses her arms in front of her chest, staring intensely at the door of Fitz’schanging cubicle. “How’s this one?”

“I feellike it’s the exact same shirt as the last six I tried on,” Fitz’s voiceechoes, slightly muffled and most definitely annoyed behind the closed door.

Jemmarolls her eyes. “Ugh, Fitz. This one is a much lighter shade of blue than theprevious one. And the one before that had a different collar, much pointier.The one before that was a much shinierfabric. The one before that was—”

“Yeah.Okay. I get it. Different shirts.”

“Well. Let me see then,” Jemma pleads.

[theclaravoyant]

Do you think you could please write a continuation of the Fitzsimmons reunion but add bus kids. Thanks!

AN ~ :’) sure! angst/hurt/comfort. title from Flares - The Script

Read on AO3

do you feel the smoke in your eyes?

Daisy held her breath as the Zephyr took off. It was quiet – as quiet as it ever was on this plane with the roar of the engines outside and the occasional blip of machinery within. It was so quiet, that when she heard it, she couldn’t let it go.

Fitz was crying.

A sharp pain splintered through her chest and she gritted her teeth. Of course he was crying; he was lost and confused, and they’d all been ignoring or yelling at him all day, and people had been dying all around him since he’d woken up, and even before that. But Daisy held her breath. The shell that she’d built around the terror and pain since hearing Aida had taken him was beginning to crack, but she was not sure if she was ready to let it go yet. May had always said not to go into a situation without knowing what she was prepared to do. What if it was a trick? Would she be prepared to hurt him? What if it wasn’t a trick at all, but the sight of him blinded her, and she only saw the man who’d had her beaten? What would that do to him, to her, to them?

What was it doing to them now, she wondered; her standing out here speculating on suspicions, while not just one world, but two, crashed down around him?

Daisy let out a sigh, and felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She gathered her strength and crept back toward the pod. Jemma had disappeared. Maybe she was in there. Maybe she could take care of it. Maybe Daisy shouldn’t –

She stopped in the doorway out of shock more than out of conscious decision. Rather than the smooth, cold man who’d wiped her blood off his hands with a handkerchief, she saw him. Her friend. Her protector – or at least, so he had tried to be. Her Fitz, but beaten down in every conceivable way, and shaking, and weeping with overwhelming terror and shame and grief. Jemma, a little hesitantly – still shaken herself – had her arms wrapped around his back, squeezing his shoulder, a tiny smile on her face even as her eyes streamed with tears. It was him, he was here, the real Fitz, and he was safe and she was safe and they had so much to cry for, but at least they could do it together.

Then Jemma saw Daisy in the doorway and couldn’t help but stiffen a little. She’d never been one for public breakdowns. And even though she relaxed once she saw that it was Daisy – that she was not being called upon to stiffen her upper lip once more – she had already alerted Fitz to someone else’s presence. He looked up, and met Daisy’s eyes, and let out a strangled gasp of agony before hiding his head again, cowering under the protection of Jemma’s arms.

Daisy stepped further into the pod, feeling her lips quiver with words and tears even though she didn’t know what to say.

“Fitz,” she murmured eventually. “It’s alright.”

“I hurt you,” he breathed, still unable to look at her. He held his hands out, trembling, as if he could still see the blood on them. “I hurt you and I – I killed so many…”

At last the tears began to slip down Daisy’s cheeks too, as she thought of the Vijay and the Gordon and the Lincoln in the other world. She hadn’t known them, but she had known versions of them. She hadn’t been subjected to what they had, but she shared the reason for their suffering, and the pain of it. Knowing that this Fitz – her Fitz, the one who had held her and helped her find light again - would not only have opposed it, but would have gone to great lengths to stop it had he not been the one twisted into doing it, was a fistful of salt rubbed into the wound as he sat weeping in front of her, and it ripped the fragile shell in Daisy’s chest wide open.

She knelt in front of him, trying to catch his eyes, and settled for taking one of his hands and squeezing it tightly, trying to instil her promise in him.

“It wasn’t you,” she insisted, as much to herself as to Fitz. “I know… I know it wasn’t…”

And it hurt, because while she couldn’t feel the sting of his hand across her cheek anymore like she had feared, he continued to avoid her gaze, and the warmth of his embrace when he’d told her it was going to be okay was just as far from her as the pain. Suddenly, that embrace was all she wanted, but she doubted he’d be leaving the unbreakable shelter of Jemma’s arms any time soon. And he still couldn’t look at her.

(Maybe he couldn’t look at Jemma either – maybe that’s why she’d wrapped herself around him like this instead of tucking herself against his chest and looking into his eyes and drinking in their togetherness. Maybe that was a good thing, because Jemma could comfort him and find comfort in his presence, his return, without being faced quite yet with the possibility that she might not see Fitz’s eyes next time she looked into them. She might see the eyes of the man who’d shot a civilian, or the LMD who’d tried to kill her, and who she’d had to brutally kill instead. Even if it wasn’t his fault, she might see it, she might not ever truly unsee it, and then what? What would she have to be prepared to do?)

So FitzSimmons sat, together but not unbroken, and weeping, and Daisy felt helpless and small and trapped and the unpredictability of the world felt less like an exciting miracle than it ever had, and more like a monster waiting somewhere down the road to recovery, laying traps, laying in wait. Jemma was reaching out and Fitz was spiralling downwards into a pit of doubt, loathing and despair that Daisy herself knew all too well, and Daisy wasn’t sure who she should catch or how.

Daisy sighed, and dropped from kneeling to sitting by Fitz’s leg. She could taste her own tears now, though it didn’t really feel like she was crying, but as she breathed in the salty bitterness she began to realise that she did, after all, feel relief. Of course they did not know what was coming. They never had – except once, and it was not as if that had ended well. And maybe this was a huge mountain to climb and they might be different people all over again by the time they got to the other side, but they were still people. They were still here.

“Hey. Fitz,” Daisy said, her voice croaking with tears. “I’m not leaving you this time. Don’t you leave me either, okay?”

He didn’t answer, but he was still holding her hand and he squeezed it a little, and Jemma sighed with relief and her hand appeared by Daisy’s side, and Daisy took it too, and while the powerful and unpredictable wheels of the world rolled on around them they sat together and relished survival and love and the long slow road out on which they could now begin to walk.

[dilkirani]

If your still doing this could you please do 47) things you said in a hotel room?

Sure!! Hope you like. :) s1/s3:

—-

Everything is silent, achingly so. Fitz finds his own breathing deafening and he tries to consciously quiet his inhalations and exhalations. Jemma is flat on her back in the twin bed next to his—a mere meter away, but the distance feels infinite. She’s still awake too, he can sense it, but she hasn’t spoken in hours so he doesn’t either.

Not for the first time, he wishes he had a switch in his brain to turn it off. Usually, he can’t fall asleep for excitement over a project or theories spinning out too fast to keep up with. But tonight his head is filled with permutations of betrayal, complex hypotheses to explain why a man would one day be a friend and the next day an enemy. It didn’t make sense, none of it, and the more he thinks the more he hurts. A simple on-off switch would be nice. Just power down for the night, reboot, and try again in the morning.

“I can feel you thinking,” Jemma says, and it takes Fitz a moment before he realizes she’s actually spoken aloud and not just infiltrated his thoughts again.

“Sorry,” he replies. He squeezes his eyes shut, although he barely registers a difference. Their room is so dark.

He hears her sigh and shift in her bed, and then a second later her hand is on his shoulder, pushing gently. “Move over,” she says. He acquiesces without being conscious of it and tries not to gulp when she slides under the blanket next to him, her thigh just barely grazing his hip.

“Are you scared?” she asks, and for some reason he loves that she asks, even though she has to know the answer.

“Yeah,” he responds. If anything, he’s more still than before, hyper-conscious of the boundaries of his own body and of the heavy darkness cocooning them in this strange new reality. He stares up at the ceiling, although he craves a glimpse of her face.

“Me too,” she says. She turns on her side then and grabs his hand and Fitz is overwhelmed by the sensation. “But at least we still have each other, right? We’ll get through this together.”

He tilts his head to her, and even in the non-existent light he can make out her profile, the soft smile turning up the corners of her lips.

“Yeah,” he whispers. And then, more strongly—“Yes.” He hadn’t known his whole world could turn upside down and fall apart without warning, but he might have guessed that if it did, Jemma Simmons would be on the other side, promising they’d survive it together. Maybe it’s sentimentality, but he finds that every cell in his body believes what she’s telling him, and he nearly weeps with gratitude.

They fall asleep curled towards each other, like flowers reaching for the sun, hands so close they could touch. They could, but they don’t.

++

Fitz is almost embarrassed at how loud his own breathing is, especially in the stillness of the large hotel suite. Almost, because there’s very little room in his brain for any emotions that are not love and satisfaction and happiness and a kind of intense wonder at the beauty of lying next to Jemma Simmons and knowing that by some miracle, she has wanted this just as much as he has.

He checks his phone and sees that Mack has sent an only slightly-unsubtle ‘15 more minutes’ warning message. He sets a timer and then tosses his phone onto the floor. Jemma immediately curls back against his side, resting her head over his hammering heart.

His head is strangely empty but buzzing incessantly at the same time. He wishes for a moment that he could turn it off and let go completely, but if he does he might never leave. Who knew that heaven was as simple as a hotel bed and Jemma’s sweaty limbs tangled up with his own?

“I can feel you thinking,” Jemma says, and it takes Fitz a moment before he realizes she’s actually spoken aloud and not just infiltrated his thoughts again.

“Sorry,” he replies, squeezing her closer to his side. The fact that they’re here, together, after everything is so surreal he feels dizzy.

She runs a hand along his face, scratching gently at his stubble. These small gestures between them are so unbearably intimate, and as if he hadn’t fully realized it before, the truth of it hits him like a tidal wave: he will never, in his entire life, come back from this. She’s it for him; although really, she’s been the only one for years. Maybe forever.

“Are you scared?” she asks, softly, no hint of judgment in her voice.

“No,” he answers honestly. He turns until he’s on his side facing her and clasps her hands against his chest. “I mean, yeah, about a lot of things. But not about this. Not about us.”

“Me neither,” she says, and she smiles so brightly it takes his breath away. “I thought I might be…I mean, after your speech—”

“Come on, now,” he interrupts, but he’s grinning and she’s giggling, and he can’t believe he’d ever been afraid of his feelings, had ever wished they might disappear.

“But I’m not,” she finishes, kissing his nose, his cheek, his lips. “I can’t believe how right this feels. How perfect.” She pauses, grimacing slightly in self-deprecation. “One’s probably not supposed to admit such things right after the first time, is one?”

He laughs before capturing her lips in a lazy kiss, some part of him still in shock that this is something they do now. “Well, it’s not like I can hold it against you. I think it’s pretty obvious I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

This is an unintended confession that should cause an anxiety spike, but he has never been safer than when he’s resting in Jemma’s arms. Her eyes soften and she runs her fingers through his hair, always impossibly gentle. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, too,” she says.

He thinks of all the obstacles between them, all the heartache and misunderstandings and wounds untended, but he knows suddenly that she’s not trying to appease or reassure him. She’s simply speaking a truth she’s been afraid to voice for so long and he’s unspeakably touched by her bravery.

They very nearly fall asleep, but the piercing sound of his alarm jostles them out of bed. Fitz feels an aching emptiness as they separate to dress and hopes that someday the world will give them more than a few moments of stolen time.

When they walk down the hallway they drift towards each other like magnets, hands swinging so close they brush with every step. Fitz reaches out and laces his fingers through hers, and this time he doesn’t let go.

[tashonix]

Hello. I thought I would send you an ask back. So tell me, what did you have for dinner last night and what are you thinking of having tonight. Can you tell that I'm hungry lol

Howdy! Thanks for the ask :) Hahahah - I’m not sure if this helps your hungry factor! 

Last night we had roast chicken with some veggies and tonight it’ll be satay chicken with rice, we eat a lot of chicken lol I had the munchies when I got home from work though so I’ve just eaten some cheese and onion chips :D

[ohifonlyx33]

fitzsimmonsftw replied to your post “alexnderlightwood: Okay but am I the only one pretty sure Daisy won’t...”

She'll be Quake. I'm 100% sure. They only have a few episodes left and it won't be smart to have Daisy learn to use all new powers in that time. And the framework will just give her her powers

yeah... i mean, i know that. just the idea crossed my mind because she seemed to be so healed after her transforMAYtion

[memorizingthedigitsofpi]

fitzsimmonsftw reblogged your photo and added:

So. The fic?

the description isn’t enough? ;)

I’m not 100% sure it doesn’t exist already. I know I’ve read them as Youtubers. What I’m not sure of is if I’ve read this scenario. The one I remember, she was a food blogger and he ... did news? or gaming? And they met at a con, I think? It’s been a while. 

but yeah, if it doesn’t exist, I’m not opposed to writing it. I also don’t mind if someone wants to use this as a prompt and write their own

anyone want to read/write it?

[grapehyasynth]

Hiii! Can I have number 7 for the 101 fluff prompts?

#7 = I’m cold. Come closer.

“Did you get it?” Fitz demands as Jemma slips into thelibrary, hastily shutting the floor-to-ceiling doors behind her the instant she’sthrough. “Oh, god, you smell terrible.”

“Well, excuse mefor trying to salvage medical supplies – foryou -- before all of London is under water!” She hurls the full duffle athim and rings her hair out into the carpet. “Nearly drowned getting back inhere – the first floor’s totally submerged. At least the rains have stopped sowe should be good here for a tick.”

“Glad you didn’t drown, then,” he mutters absentmindedly,beginning to sort through the supplies. He catches her arched eyebrows andclarifies quickly, “Because we need these supplies.”

“And because you don’t know how to light a fire, apparently.The temperature’s already dropped five degrees and it’ll only get worse oncethe sun’s fully down.” She tries the light switch again, as if the power might’vecome back on in the hour she’s been gone, and strides over to the massivefireplace.

He must be losing it. Some sort of post-traumatic stress –mid-traumatic? – from the hurricanes and the floods and the animals loosed fromthe Zoo. He’d almost just admitted to being glad for having Jemma Simmons for company. Certainly hecan think of worse companions for the apocalypse, but the only daughter of thefamily with which his family has been feuding for three decades doesn’t rankvery high. And in his parents’ house, no less. God, if they survive the freezein North America and come back to find her here—

“Do you need me to stitch up that cut?”

She’s standing over him, a fire crackling miraculously inthe hearth, and looking at the bloody gash he’s been hoping she hadn’t noticedpeeking through his ripped trouser leg.  

Mustn’t show weakness.“Course not. I’ll just pour some alcohol on it—”

“That’s saline solution,” she informs him, plucking thebottle out of his hand. “The alcohol’s in the brown one.”

He keeps his back to her as he gives himself stitches; he’llnot give her the satisfaction of seeing him wince. He can hear her spoonhitting the inside of a can of ravioli. (One each per meal, that was the rationthey’d agreed upon in their tersely negotiated Survival Charter.)

“This wouldn’t be half-bad with a glass of red,” she muses.He glances over his shoulder at her. She’s put one of his sweaters on in placeof her wet blouse and is sitting in front of the fire, the loose hairs aroundher ears glowing a bit from the light. She looks several years older than shedid when they first took refuge here, just days ago.

“Maybe that can be our next supply run.”

She laughs, eyes flicking up to him and back down. “We couldeven poison each other’s glasses for old time’s sake.”

They read on the couch, as they’ve done each night, sittingat opposite ends with books from his parents’ endless collection. (They’ve notyet had to burn any books to keep warm, but Jemma’s started categorizing themby worth and relevance.) But tonight she’s shivering, despite two pairs ofsocks and his sweater, and he notices that the tips of her hair froze beforeshe could get it to dry from her swim. He tries to push it away, but guilt nagsat him that she’s suffering because he neededthose supplies.

“Are you alright?” he asks stiffly. “Do you need a blanket?”

She sets her book on the side table and draws her hands intoher sleeves. She watches the fire for a moment, then looks at him, eyes softand sad and lips a frightening shade of blue. “I’m cold,” she whispers. “Comecloser.”

He doesn’t know when he lost the ability to disobey her. Hesettles beside her, body rigid as she tucks her legs beneath her and curls intohim. Wrapping an arm around her automatically, he can feel the extent of hertrembles.

“Don’t get hypothermia, alright? You’re the doctor betweenus.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she chuckles.

It feels like treason, or at the very least a massive familydisloyalty, to sit here with her in the tiny globe of light cast by the fire,to have this peace amidst the chaos outside.

After some time he relaxes, sinking back into the couch anddaring to rest his head along the back of it, just shy of brushing Jemma’shair.

She must think he’s fallen asleep, because she stirs justenough to a quick, grateful kiss to his neck.

But he’s not asleep. He feels the burn of her lips and hepromises to himself to stay up the whole night if he must, to keep her fromfreezing.

[aosrewatch]

Could you post a time thing for people around the world including New Zealand? Coz I'm a bit of a potato

Hey there! We decided to provide general information links for international fans. If you need something more specific, hit us up!

Here is a link for a World Time Zone chart

Here is a link for a converter

(6-10pm EST is a similar time chunk to when the show typically airs in the US...we wanted to keep the buzz going around that same time)!

[ismaelmyblogisamess]

Thanks to @memorizingthedigitsofpi for the banner, who is also on this list

Since AoS is coming to an end, I'll be doing appreciation post for everyone who brings something to the fandom

I'll be doing tagging fanfic writers, even those who have left the fandom or/and stop writing.

@awwcoffeenooooo @sunalsolove @libbyweasley @agentpolarbear @chidi-anagonye @nerdlove4thewin @accio-the-force @drdrdrfitzsimmons @agentcalliope @hanorganaas @leopoldfitz @besidemethewholedamntime @jewishfitz @marvelthismarvelthat @agentverbivore @dilkirani @plentyofmalk @bigbysnows @jemmafitzsimmons @eclecticmuses @antoine-triplett @agl03 @aretsuna @blancasplayground @theartofbeinganerd @kienova66 @ughfitz @consoledacup @ohifonlyx33 @theclaravoyant @pleaseletmeshowyou @leopoldjamesfitzs @amanda-rex @fitzsimmonsshield @shipping-n-handling @jemmaswan @jeemmasimmons @bookishandbossy @plentyofmalk @unbreakablejemmasimmons @fitzsimmonsftw @chinesebakery @perthshirekisses @karasimmons @queensimmons @iain-da-cheesecake @drsfitzsimmons @recoveringrabbit @whistlingwindtree

Sorry if i miss anyone, i do appreciate your fics, you bring to the fandom

[theartofbeinganerd]

Hiiii. If you're taking prompts could you do a 4x01 AU where Jemma goes to Radcliffes with Fitz? Thanks!!

Hi!! Thanks for the prompt!!

As I was plotting this out, I became quite salty at the realization that all the storylines could’ve stayed exactly the same for 4A if Fitz hadn’t been keeping secrets from Jemma - which was necessary for some reason that I don’t understand?? But, I digress - anyway, here’s the way it could’ve gone if there were no secrets (like it should’ve been).

(Ao3)

-

As Fitz reached out to ring the doorbell, Jemma shifted thebottles of beer in her grip so that she could take a quick look at her phone. Thankfully,however, nothing too urgent seemed to happening back at the Playground.

“You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes since weleft the base,” Fitz pointed out, seeming a bit exasperated, and perhaps disappointed.“You know, if you wanted to stay and work, you could’ve just said so.”

Jemma scoffed, turning to face him and arching an eyebrow. “Fitz,the very last thing I want is tospend more of my time working.” Smiling softly, she purposefully slid her phoneback into her pocket. “I’m done for now, I promise; I’m all yours.”

He returned the smile, and she thought to herself that she’dthrow her new position and all of its duties to hell, if only to see that smilelighting up the face she loved so dearly.

They both turned when the door opened then, revealingRadcliffe stepping back to let them inside. “Hey, just in time,” he said by wayof greeting, “they’re just taking to the pitch.”

“Oh, good,” Fitz commented as he and Jemma set the six packsthey were carrying down on the counter, leading the way over to the couch as heremoved his jacket.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Radcliffe told them with awave of his hand, “I’m just finishing cleaning up.”

Jemma took a seat on the couch as Fitz grabbed a handful ofnuts from a bowl on the coffee table, rolling her eyes fondly as he tossed oneinto his mouth and fist-pumped.

“Should be pretty lopsided, don’t you think?” Fitzcommented, nodding toward the game playing on the large flat screen. “Theirkeeper’s absolutely crap – oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

Startled at Fitz’s sudden apology as he dropped haphazardlyonto the couch beside her, Jemma glanced up, her eyebrows darting up herforehead as she glimpsed a naked woman standing unashamedly a few feet away.

Hastily dropping her gaze, Jemma winced and told the womanapologetically, “Truly, we had no idea there was someone here.” To Fitz, shehissed under her breath, “He knew wewere coming over, right?”

“Hello,” the woman greeted, sounding strangely relaxed for someonewalking around strangers while in the nude.

At that moment, Radcliffe hurried back out. “You…you weren’tmeant to see that.”

“Hello, I’m glad to finally –” the woman cut herself off,then repeated, “Hello, I’m glad to finally –”

Confused, Jemma peered over to find Radcliffe fiddling with arobe. “Fitzsimmons, meet AIDA.”

“Hello, I’m glad to finally –”

Radcliffe gave them a bit of an amused smile and explained, “She’s,uh, crashed,” as he covered her with the robe. As the truth of what this womanwas sunk in, Jemma exchanged a wide-eyed glance with an equally stunned Fitz,both of them turning to gape at AIDA as she repeated the same thing over andover until Radcliffe picked up a remote of some kind and powered her down.

“What the hell?” Fitz finally asked, speaking the same wordsJemma currently had running through her brain.

“Well, I just upped her PSU to compensate for imageprocessing,” Radcliffe explained, “Must’ve overcranked it. I’ll reboot.”

“Uh-uh, no, that’s not what I meant.”

Before Fitz could go on, though, Jemma cut in to tellRadcliffe firmly, “Shut it down.”

Radcliffe’s eyes grew wide, and he hurried to explainhimself, “Simmons, wait, you don’t understand – this has been a lifelong dreamof mine. When I saw the work you two were doing in replicating human tissue andinternal bone structure in Coulson’s hand, I knew…I knew right then that thiswas within reach. But, I need your help, both of you, to perfect her beforeSHIELD –”

Not allowing him to finish, though, Jemma stood up, foldingher arms across her chest. “Shut it down.You don’t have any more time; Ireceive lie detection tests, and my next one is in just a few days, where I’llhave to report this – and even if I didn’t, it is still my duty to report youfor breaking the rules stipulated in your pardon.”

Beginning to look truly desperate now, Radcliffe waved hishands at her, pointing out, “But you have a few days, if we just –”

“We won’t lie to our organization for you,” Fitz told him,standing as well and planting his hands on his hips. “You know you aren’tallowed to experiment without approval or oversight.”

“But you two aren’t understanding!”he insisted. “If we can get the LMD program up and running, we could save somany lives. With all of the friendsyou’ve lost, friends like Lincoln Campbell and Antoine Triplett, you must see –”

“That’s quite enough,” Jemma said sharply, blinking rapidlyfor a few moments as her mind’s eye flashed back to the fragments of Trip beingpushed along in that wheelbarrow, to watching Daisy fall apart before theireyes as Lincoln gave his life on that quinjet.

However, as she shook away the memories that still tore ather heart as fiercely as they did when she’d experienced them, she noticed thatFitz was peering at her speculatively.

“What?” she asked him under her breath.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, idly scratching athis stubbled chin, then he leaned in closer to her and whispered, “We could atleast give it a try.”

Jemma quickly leaned back to gape at him, completely andutterly taken aback that he could possiblythink it was even remotely a good idea. She opened her mouth to say as much tohim, but she only managed to get out, “How could you possibly –” before he wasinterrupting her.

“If it works, you’ll never have to be in danger again.” Hesaid the words with such conviction, the overwhelming love and concern he hadfor her written plainly in his eyes.

Jemma’s stern expression softened, and without givingRadcliffe another glance, she grasped Fitz’s hand and excused them, leading himinto another room. Once the door had been closed behind them, she reminded himgently, “Fitz, being in danger is a part of the deal when you sign up forSHIELD – we both knew that going in. And given all of the terrible things we’vebeen through, I’d imagine we understand even better now the risks that areinvolved with our line of work.”

“But what if there didn’t have to be risks?” Fitz pointedout, clearly clinging to the idea now that it had been presented to him. “With LMDs,we could help save the world, but never have to be put into another dangeroussituation.” His voice grew soft as he added, “And I’d never have to worry aboutlosing you again.”

Jemma sighed softly, lifting a hand to absently stroke hischeek, and she could tell just by looking into his eyes that he wasn’t going togive up. After all of their years spent side-by-side, she knew how to read Fitzbetter than anyone, and she could see that he had to see this through; he had to try and perfect the program. So,grudgingly, she said, “We have until my next test, at which point we’ll have tocome clean with whatever we have by that time to Director Mace.”

“Deal,” he agreed readily, catching her hand and giving it agrateful squeeze.

At that moment, Jemma’s phone chimed with an alert, and witha tired sigh, she removed it from her pocket and scanned the information on thescreen. Immediately, her eyes narrowed, and without looking up, she told Fitz, “Ineed to do some damage control.”

Understanding that she needed a moment to handle classifiedinformation, Fitz squeezed her hand once more before releasing it, heading outthe door. “I’ll go tell Radcliffe the good news then.”

A handful of minutes later, Jemma rejoined them, emotionallyexhausted after her conversation with May. She’d known when she’d taken aposition so close to the director that there would be questions, but she’dhoped that the trust that their friends had in her, after everything they’dbeen through together, wouldn’t be so fragile.

But, she supposed, such was the life of a SHIELD agent.

Upon catching sight of Fitz excitedly discussing the detailswith Radcliffe, though, Jemma began to perk back up a bit at the familiar sparkfor a new project, for tackling a new challenge that had been placed before him,in Fitz’s eyes. It often brought her back to their days at the Academy, whenthey were just beginning to work together and truly uncover the depths of theircombined brain power, when they both only grew more and more excited as they discussedall the experiments and projects they could take on together.

Noticing her quiet reentrance, Radcliffe turned to her witha beaming grin. “Thank you, Simmons. Truly. You won’t regret this.”

As he began to walk a powered-up AIDA back to his workspace,Jemma called after him, “See that I don’t.”

Fitz stepped forward until they were face-to-face, offeringher a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Jemma shook her head. “I understand, Fitz; it truly could bean investment for SHIELD’s future, if done right. And besides, I trust anyproject with your hands in it.” As she said the words, she found his hands withhers, stroking her thumbs over his palms. Smiling warmly up at him, she wenton, “As long as we’re working together, on the same page and still refusing toallow anything to come between us…well, then we’ll be able to get through anychallenge, big or small.”

Leaning forward to drop a kiss on her forehead, Fitz agreed,his voice soft but contradictorily firm, “Together.”

[the-nerdy-stjarna]

Your stories always leave me asked for more. Do you think you could do a sequel to the agree to dis agree where Fitzsimmons go out on a date. Coz I need this.

HELLOOOOOOOO!!!!! My lovely @fitzsimmonsftw! Thank you so much for your patience! [I hope @jemmamaximoff who sent me the original prompt for Agree to Disagree will enjoy this update as well!]

It is finally done! Low and behold!

Two new chapters to Agree to Disagree!

Start at the beginning

Start with Chapter 3 [aka The Update]

Summary: A friends-to-lover Fitzsimmons fic that starts at the end of S1E7 “The Hub.”

Chapter 1: At the Academy [”Let’s never fall in love!”]Chapter 2: Post-”The Hub” [”Ummm, yeah, so about that.”]Chapter 3: Pre-DateChapter 4: Date!

Big thank you to @dilkirani for another wonderful beta!

[theclaravoyant]

Are you taking prompts? If you are could you please do one where Fitzsimmons go shopping between season 3 and 4, and Fitz complains the whole time. And maybe they bring Daisy to try to cheer her up. Thanks!!!

AN ~ my 4K paper is out of the way and we need some fluff so here we are… took a brief detour through some Static Quake feels but it’s all from a very hopeful hurt/comfort/fluffy place.

Read on AO3 (~1200wd)

-

“Jemm-aaa,” Fitz moaned.

“Yes Fiiiiitz,” she said, mimicking his tone without turning to look at him. She ran her fingers down some corduroy and grimaced, regretting the unpleasant texture.

“Why not go back to that yellow one back there?” Fitz proposed. “We both liked that one, right?”

“We both liked it,” Jemma repeated, “but we didn’t love it.”

“It’s a curtain!” Fitz blurted. “What is there to love?!”

“Fitz! I intend to have as many windows as humanly possible. Whatever fabric we choose today will be within our field of vision at all times. We have to love it!”

“It’s lemon yellow! It’s not like it’s offensive to the eye! Unlike that white and green cheesecloth monstrosity-”

“Alright, alright!” Daisy stepped in between them, making a ‘T’ for ‘time-out’ signal with her hands. “Fitz, why don’t you go check out… TVs or something. There must be some new LCD curved screen 3D AI 2-point-0 model or something to argue about with the poor fifteen year olds.”

Fitz scowled. There was no such thing as AI television and he’d never heard of a 2.0 model, but he got the feeling that was not Daisy’s point. Well, anything to get him out of another second of this inane curtain shop.

“Run along then!” Daisy insisted. “We’ll meet you at the ice-cream place after.”

Fitz glanced at Jemma, who begrudgingly gestured toward the door. His face lit up, beaming.

“I’ll buy you curly fries,” he offered Daisy with gratitude. She smiled briefly.

“I’d like that.”

As he bounded away with the enthusiasm of a Looney Tunes character, Daisy sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma apologised. “We were supposed to be trying to cheer you up.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Daisy said with a shrug. “You two are pretty cute actually. And I love that you’re picking out curtains when you don’t even know the colour scheme of your house yet.”

“Rustic, but go on,” Jemma deadpanned, and Daisy’s lips twitched upward again, and she tried to figure out whether Jemma was joking or not. After a moment, her humour faded a little.

“I just… I miss it,” she explained, grasping at straws to describe the feeling. “All this couples stuff, y’know? Lincoln was the first guy in – in a long time that I’ve actually been able to, like… imagine myself with. In the future. Stupid daydreams and stuff, you know, like taking the kids to a holiday house at the lake. I don’t know why. I’ve never had a holiday house on a lake. Been to one, once, but that’s about it. It just seemed like a nice thought. And now…”

She ran her eyes up the row of curtain clothes beside them. It wasn’t as visceral as grief, this sorrow she felt. It wasn’t the loss of something real. It was the loss of a dream, and one she wasn’t even sure she truly wanted, but it still hurt, and she wondered if Jemma could understand that.

Jemma put a hand over Daisy’s, drawing her attention with a gentle, concerned gaze. Daisy had tears in her eyes now; her lips trembling as she finally expressed something she hadn’t quite grasped before.

“I just don’t know what the future’s going to be anymore. I mean, I know I never did, but I thought I could make my own before and after watching that – after seeing him –“

Jemma wrapped her arms around Daisy, as if she could hold her together by the sheer force of her love. Daisy clung onto her for dear life as, in the middle of the isle of corduroy and calico curtains, a tidal wave of emotion crashed around her. She held onto Jemma like a rock in a storm until she felt the worst of it pass.

Jemma felt it too.

“You can still make your own future,” Jemma promised, a reassuring whisper in Daisy’s ear now that the height of the crisis was over. “Always. And you will always have us - Fitz and me, and Coulson, and May… As long as you want us, we’ll be here. Probably longer. Okay?”

Daisy wasn’t sure if it was okay. She wasn’t sure if anything would ever be okay again. She wasn’t sure why she was here, buying curtains, when she could have been across the way messing with new phones. She wasn’t sure why she was in this building at all, why she continued to let Jemma and Fitz and the others into her life when her future just felt like death. But she clung to Jemma a little longer, soaking up the honesty and rawness and love and trying to make herself believe Jemma’s words.

Before Jemma could get suspicious – Daisy hoped – she pulled back a little and smiled. She wasn’t completely off the hook, judging by Jemma’s ever-scrutinising gaze, and so she tried not to look too desperate to get away with it.

“Our choices matter, Daisy,” Jemma repeated: fiercely, stubbornly. Daisy thought of Lincoln, and his choice, and the way that wound was still bleeding inside her, but she looked around too, and thought about FitzSimmons, and how they were here making cute domestic choices about their cute, domestic future, because it was the one they were determined to have. If these two could make it, after all they had been through, maybe – maybe - she could too, after all.

She smiled again, for real this time, and only then did Jemma relinquish her intense attention, turning back to the materials around them.

“Now, in the smoothest segue ever,” Daisy began, wiping tears off her face as she gestured with one arm back the way they had come. “’Speaking of choice,’ I think the yellow curtains were great, but you should also consider maroon, especially if you want pale walls. And you should get sheer white curtains too, for when you want to let the sun in. Which will be always.”

“Always.”

This time, it was Jemma’s turn to smile. It was soft at first – quiet, like a private joke, like a stolen smile in a fabric isle in a precarious point in all their lives – and then it broadened as familiar footsteps and a voice that filled her with joy re-entered.

“Daisy!” he was calling. “Daisy! They’ve got a remote control helicopter demonstration in the mall. You and me, death battle for curly fries.”

“Um, excuse me?” Jemma scoffed. “I’m your girlfriend now, I get first helicopter death battle privileges.”

“Sorry, I thought you’d rather get some towels monogrammed,” Fitz replied, just as stubbornly, before a grin broke out on his face. Jemma rolled her eyes.

“You and Daisy can go first,” she conceded, “but I’m playing the winner. And we’re not getting monogrammed towels.”

“Yeah, Fitz, save something for the wedding why don’t you?” Daisy prodded. “You guys keep stealing all my gift ideas. I’m stuck between a rice cooker and a welcome mat.”

“Having an entirely separate device to cook rice is silly.”

“But more efficient,” Fitz pointed out, “if you’re already using your pot for something else.”

“Just use the microwave!” Daisy advocated.

“Of course you would say that, you cook everything in a microwave. You’ve probably never turned a stove on in your life!”

“I’ll have you know, microwaving’s supposed to be healthier because –“

“Because? Oh we’re going to take on the super-genius biologist with pop science now? Pray do tell.”

They left the corduroy and soon even the lemon-yellow curtains behind them and wandered down the mall, bickering all the way.

[agl03]

I hope your having fun w your kiddo (loved her quake outfit how fricking cute). Anyways I just wanna know stuff about Jemma and Daisy and Jemma’s mental health

Hi @fitzsimmonsftw

Thanks so much!  I’m pretty happy with how it turned out and it was very well received today.

As I said in the last ask Daisy and Jemma are most definitely a force to be reckoned with but at the same time they do disagree on the methods and even more notably about how to proceed after a dead end.  Until Jemma takes matters into her own hands and pretty much kidnaps Daisy, Piper, and Davis in order to get to where she thinks Fitz is (not gonna lie I about stood up and cheered).

There was also a ‘red flag’ as to Jemma’s mental state.  Daisy and B Squad were talking while Jemma had a moment in the cryo chamber when the comment was made that Jemma hadn’t stopped.  She hadn’t broken down, given up hope, or stopped since they started looking...and if she did stop then she would simply just break down.  So I do feel we are heading for a moment where Jemma is going to have some sort of breakdown or very emotional moment or fallout from holding this all in.  Which its gonna hurt like Hades but I’m here for it!

[agent-85]

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