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Internet Friends AU
     ↳ After years of online friendship, Leo Fitz is beyond excited to finally meet Jemma Simmons in person. It’s just as amazing as he’s always imagined, except for one tiny little detail: in person, it’s a lot harder to pretend he’s not hopelessly in love with her. When the time comes for him to go home, he can’t. Luckily for him, Jemma’s fallen in love, too.

Look at this cutie! 😊 Always fiddling with her hands whenever she’s alone talking to Robbie. I think somebody is nervous around their crush 😉

(Also she fixes her hair at one point when Robbie moves closer even though her hair is perfectly fine – which is usually a sign of romantic interest. Daisy’s got a crush and it’s adorable! 😊)

For Kaity.

Originally posted by becausepine

For @kaitymccoy123, after a rough day. I love you to bits, dear, and I think they lost out, not you. I hope this is decent (banged it out on lunch break, posting quickly. Probably riddled with errors). Also, it’s incredibly difficult to find a good AOS Scotty gif.

“I didn’t get it.”

“Ya what?” Monty’s nose crinkles in a way that you would normally find adorable. As it is, the entire world seems dampened by the bitter disappointment that snakes through your chest, and your answering smile is hollow.

“The job. I didn’t get it.” Despite your best efforts, you feel your voice hitch a little on the words. 

“The rat bastards,” he spits, dropping his spanner and pulling you into his arms, heedless of the fact that you’re in the E deck corridor for all to see. You smush your nose into the mesh fabric of his red shirt and let him hold you tight. 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” he murmurs, more an instinctive litany of comfort than actual shushing. He rocks you gently back and forth, threading agile fingers through your dark hair. His skin smells of bay rum aftershave and something vaguely singed, and it crosses your mind to ask him, later, how the refit is coming. He presses his lips to your temple and sighs heavily through his nose. “The silly sods don’t know a good thing when they’ve got it.”

His words send hot tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Silly as it is, to cry feels a little like defeat, like one last punch in the gut. You pull back, biting at your lip and swiping your face in frustration. 

Monty catches your hands in his. “My heart,” he says softly, reaching to thumb away the tear-tracks that stain your cheeks. “I know what I’ve got right here.” His eyes are dark as he stares at you for a long moment, as if memorizing your features. You can see, suddenly, that he shares your heartbreak. He clasps his fingers around the nape of your neck, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and fluttering his eyes closed. “I have the very best thing, Kaity. I have you.”

Bonus, because I just can’t resist.

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Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D Season 5 Synopsis (probably)

It’s been six months since Coulson and his team went to a diner and never came back, and Piper is fed up. Fed up with being on the run, fed up with every lead she follows up turning into a dead end. In a last ditch attempt to help the missing agents, she tracks down an elusive Bobbi and Hunter, a recovered Davis, a returned Robbie Reyes, a reluctant Joey Gutierrez, and a very confused Mike Peterson. With the help of a held-at-gunpoint Ian Quinn, the ragtag team must work together to figure out how to rescue their friends. But first, they have to find them. And that’s where things turn out to be a little bit more complicated than anticipated…

Reminder that Grant Ward was desperate to make up for the things he did by helping the team.

And the “good guys” flat out refused him.

And the show presented that as a good thing.

“You’re only alive because you were of use to us. Now your brother is of more use.” Ah yes, a true hero who talks like that.

I haven’t cried at a show in a long time, but a spies goodbye sent the tears streaming down my cheek. A parting shot was meaningful and emotional and I loved it so much

Jemma, crying her dear little eyes out, hidden behind a smile for her friends

Fitz, his little nod letting his friends know it’ll all be okay.

Daisy, who just lost a sister and a friend.

May, looking like she still needs to say sorry to her friend.

Coulson, so proud of his friends overwhelming strength and bravery.

Mack, who lost his two best friends and has to say goodbye

Bobbi, still smiling as her friends say goodbye the tears rolling down her cheek.

Hunter, looking so surprised that his friends even care.

Because that’s what they are, friends, not just a team but friends. Saying goodbye in the only way they can; with a parting shot.


See, I died, but anything I would’ve seen or felt was wiped away. I don’t remember anything, but you do. What do you want to know, Phil? What did you see?

See, nothing about us is gentle.

It’s Monday, and we crash-land into each other’s life that hazardous way teenagers do, full of too much hope and too little taste of the world. You ask me, here in this chemical-and-gunpowder-and-booze shoebox bedroom, if I am terrified of change. I drown my answer in the intoxication of your being.

Tuesday: you drag me by the hand, and we charge into uncharted wasteland, running without looking, running with the grand newness of things. The beast hums while hovering above the Earth, and as I lie awake in its belly matching my breath with your own, I keep thinking about the inevitable stumble and fall.

Wednesday: you fall. Then the world we know falls. Then we realize the futility of our effort in a bout of midweek blues. While we’re crawling out of the rubble, your blood-stained hand latching on to mine, you ask me again if I am terrified of change. I am. Because I fall, too. For you.

Except, nothing about us is gentle.

I do not simply fall for you. I follow you into war. I fight and fumble. I bleed and do it all over again for you. I cut myself raw for you. And here at the bottom of the ocean, I would die for you…

…Thursday: you’re just flesh and a beating heart and bright brown eyes, but when you leave, you split atoms and leave a crater in my chest. Love is destructive, the week is long, and I am tired, so forgive me if I seem spiteful. Forgive me if I don’t understand the ache between your vertebrae. I didn’t know you were trying to shoulder the world. Forgive me forgive me forgive me.

Friday morning and life trudges forward, all the cogs grinding and chains rattling. You wipe the blood off your brows and tell me, “maybe there is.” Maybe there is air in drowning. Maybe there is renewed strength in fractured bones. Maybe there is in me the privilege to one day wake up next to you. I’ll build my dreams on that “maybe.”

But then again, nothing about us is gentle.

Please come back. You can be my Friday night bad decisions and drunken kisses that end in breathless laughter. Saturday I’ll make you burned toast and we’ll dance down the hallway just to make everyone roll their eyes. I know I promised dinner but Sunday we can go to brunch instead. I’ll take you to a museum so you can look at art and I can look at you.

There is a weekend ahead and a whole life waiting, so please come back. I know nothing about us is gentle, but love itself can be.

—  an undelivered note from an engineer to a biochemist (vi.)

Shadowhunters + Urban Dictionary name meanings


What? You said you wanted something “old and romantic.”

There’s nothing old or romantic about 20th century open heart surgery, Bones!

It’s an outdated procedure for hearts. What more do you want, Jim?

day 47 part 2: for inaya, who requested mckirk cuddling but unfortunately got this instead

what do you mean neither of them would have a galaxy print blanket

Never forget that Mo Tancharoen, Jed Whedon and Jeff Bell tried to make us believe abuse is the victim's responsibility instead of society's.

What they simply don’t understand is that people can’t pull themselves up by their bootstraps when they have no boots.


fitzsimmons winter (re)watch
1x10: The Bridge

“So we were right. Chan’s platelets solved their combustion problem. Now they can create super soldiers with no fear of explosion.”
“Maybe don’t get so excited about it.”