main deewani dil ki rani

Here’s some angsty art to stab at your emotions! Fitz with Jemmaginary inspired by the beautiful ‘Be With Me’ art done by the talented @verauko. I thought the concept would work really well for 2A Fitz and his hallucination of Jemma, who of course no one else could see. I’m really pleased with how it turned out. Hope you guys like it!

“…A love like that is stronger than any curse…" 

 FULL STORY [1x01 - 7x13] 

Hi, @shes-an-oddbird​! I’m your FitzSimmons Secret Santa! (Sorry this is a bit late–traveling around with the fam has left me more exhausted than anticipated haha.)

I had a lot of fun working on your prompt, and I hope you enjoy it! Here’s to the new year!

Prompt: “fitzsimmons looking for/finding a beautiful view (mountains/ocean/space/etc.)”

Rated G, 2k

Read at the AO3

sneak peek:

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” she says, gesturing with the ICER held firmly, if a bit awkwardly, in her hands, as if she’s projecting more confidence than she feels in wielding the weapon. Fitz glances her way briefly, barely taking in the sunrise that’s haloing behind her. He supposes she’s right, but the anxiety of being out in the field again, even if they’re allegedly far from any real danger, is causing his chest to tighten. Or perhaps it’s this new anxiety of being so close to her, now that he knows. The condensation from her exhalation shimmers in front of his face. She is always much too close to him.

Simmons leans against a tree, catching her breath as they wait for word from the others. “Have you ever ‘bagged a munro,’ as they say?”

 He snorts. “A munro is a mountain that’s at least 3,000 feet. Or 914.4 meters.”

She rolls her eyes inelegantly, and his heart constricts. I need to see a doctor, he thinks. A real doctor, not Simmons picking up the slack because no one seems to know the difference between a double Ph.D. and an M.D. Simmons says his bloodwork is fine, but his blood doesn’t feel fine; it moves through his veins like sludge every time she crowds his personal space.

“I know what it means, Fitz,” she says. “I’ve always wanted to climb at least one. The views are stunning. Or, it seems so from the pictures at least. You never have?”

“‘Course not, Simmons. Three thousand bloody feet! Who has the time or energy for that?” What he doesn’t tell her is his dad had promised, during one of his rare good moods, to take him. He’d shown Fitz photographs from atop Ben Nevis and told him someday they’d go together. That was Before. In the After, Fitz had no desire to trudge up a mountain. He’d had no one to go with, anyway.