She said no. Her story started here. Her whole life, she thought she wasn’t wanted. That she didn’t belong, that every family that took her in didn’t want her to stay. Didn’t care. But all that time, it was S.H.I.E.L.D. protecting her. Looking after her. That’s what she took away from the story. Not the family she’ll never have, but the one she’s always had. Here I am telling her something that could destroy her faith in humanity, and somehow she manages to repair a little piece of mind.

The world is full of evil and lies and pain and death, and you can’t hide from it. You can only face it. The question is, when you do, how do you respond? Who do you become?

Mr. and Mrs. Fitz

Coming to an archive near you on September 5th!


“Don’t leave me with the hostiles,” Fitz hissed, grabbing for Jemma as she moved away, but he caught the tie on the back of her dress by accident.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma sighed, rolling her eyes with affectionate annoyance as the bow unraveled. “Do me up again, would you?”

She turned her back to him, and as he stepped forward to fix the tie, his hand brushed the silky fabric of her dress over her lower back and he smelled the faded citrus of the shampoo she must’ve used the night before.

His hands froze on the little strips of fabric he was supposed to be tying as he was forcibly reminded of a moment they’d shared before they’d been married, when their interactions were being monitored somewhat invasively to assess whether they were really a couple and not just marrying for a visa (though they were). Helped along by their pre-existing close friendship, they’d nonetheless come under intense scrutiny and had on more than one occasion needed to pretend to be rather… affectionate.

The moment to which he’d been thrown back now had been all sizzling air, an evening charged by thunderstorms and alcohol and dancing and a flower in Jemma’s hair–

“Fitz?” Jemma queried in the present.

(undying love to @chinese-bakery for the manip and to @consoledacup for suggestions and sanity!)

buskidsburgade  asked:

okay, okay, okay, 74 and Skimmons Brotp maybe??? If you're doing brotps???

#74 = “May I cut in?”

I cry a little bit every time I think about this. Hopefully I did it some kind of justice! (Also if anyone reading this ships Skimmons as an OTP, that’s cool too and plz no hate)

“How long do you give Hunter before he’s face-down in the punch bowl?” Fitz muttered against Jemma’s ear as they swayed slowly in place, one hand on the lace back of her wedding dress, one on her hip.

Jemma giggled against his shoulder. She wasn’t normally a giggling person but the whole thing – the champagne, the fairy lights, everyone they loved around them and their matching rings and Fitz, Fitz, Fitz – made it seem appropriate. “Is he not already there?”

He turned his head against hers as if craning to look for their inevitably drunk friend. “Believe it or not he’s teaching your little cousins how to smoke a cigar–”

“He is not!” Jemma protested, laughing, and shoved herself away from his chest just a bit, just to be sure.

But before she could locate the miscreant in question, Daisy appeared beside them with her infectious smile.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Keep reading

Mother’s Day.

Bobbi balls the sleeves of her sweatshirt up in her hands as she walks into the kitchen. May’s already sitting at the counter, tumbler in hand, and Bobbi can’t hide her quiet noise of surprise.

“Didn’t think I’d have to fight anyone over the kitchen,” May quips and Bobbi waves a hand noncommittally.

“I’ll be gone in a sec, just need booze,” she mutters, heading toward the fridge.

“It’s eight in the morning.” Bobbi pulls out a beer from Lance’s shelf and snorts.

“This coming from the woman who’s drinking scotch at eight in the morning,” she retorts and May’s lip curve into a smile.

“Fair enough.” Bobbi pops the cap off her beer and hesitates before taking a seat at the counter with May.

“What’s got you drinking so early?” she asks softly, then shakes her head. “Sorry, that’s-.”

“Mother’s Day,” May answers in a clipped tone, and Bobbi can’t school her expression in time.

Keep reading

So… I’ll admit, #ECCC isn’t for months and months from now, but I wanted to finish my costume over the summer :) it’s done, but I’m just gonna give a little peek right now ;) I’ll post a full picture for con.

Until then, can someone please convince Clark Gregg to come to Emerald City Comic Con?
@jemmasimmonstbh @ann-foley @emeraldcitycomicon