~Fan Fiction Writer~

Thanks for tagging me @weareagentsofnothing! This was a lot of fun. I’m not sure who has already done this, so if you’d like to do it, please consider yourself tagged! @libbyweasley, did you do this already? @janedoh1? @ritalara?

What are your 3 most popular works (based on the number of kudos)? I will count only my AoS fics, and because I’ve posted just 7 AoS works, I changed the question; it originally asked for top 5. Needless to say, all of these fics are FitzSimmons-centric. 

1. Two Halves - A series of sexy FitzSimmons smutfics. This one has by far the most kudos. What does that say about this fandom?? LOL!

2. Constellation of the Heart - FitzSimmons are finally getting a proper wedding reception. But when a powerful adversary interrupts, they - along with the rest of the team - are in for a shock.

3. Hardened by Pressure - After the events of Season 5, FrozenFitz has already been located and rescued, and he and Simmons are taking a much-needed break in Perthshire. Of course, the universe probably won’t let them get away with some simple rest and relaxation.

What are your 3 least popular?

All 3 of these are very close in terms of number of kudos: The Napron, Friction, and 127 Days.

Are you surprised? Why? Mostly I am happy to see Constellation and Hardened doing so well! They are 2 of my most recent. Maybe it means my writing is getting better and/or the fandom is liking it more? 

I am just a bit surprised that 127 Days didn’t do better; it actually did ok in the comments department, just not in the kudos department. It’s a one-shot, so anyone could pick it up and finish it off at any time. On the other hand, despite its hopeful ending, it is a bit angsty overall. 

Sci-Ops Era FitzSimmons are roommates and best friends. Will Jemma overhearing what Fitz does behind closed door change their relationship? Or will they continue to ignore their feelings?

Rated: E

~6,500 words (right now)

Chapter 1

A huge thank you to @blancasplayground! She’s the most amazing beta ever and her ideas made this soooo much better.

A Static Relationship - A FitzSimmons SciOps fanfic

After graduating the Academy, Fitz and Simmons have fallen into a comforting yet monotonous routine of familiarity at SciOps. So when the two geniuses are offered an exciting job opportunity by Coulson, Simmons convinces her best friend to join her on their next adventure. But will one cold winter’s night change everything?

Final Chapter on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172378/chapters/38444435

Much love to the authors who’ve written for the Quakerider Autumn Challenge 2018 so far!

There are no word minimum or maximum, and it’s gonna run through November 30th! 

Any quakerider work with a Harvest/Halloween/Thanksgiving/Dia de Muertos theme is welcome!

@colaismywater  It’s Captain America, Robbie!  - a humorous story with Philinda as Daisy’s parents, and guest starring Gabe Reyes

@tisfan Heritage a haunting kidfic with a young Skye, and Robbie

Trick or Treat, Little Quakerider which while a Quakerider story. features the entire SHIELD team happy and healthy. Heartily recommended to the entire Agents of SHIELD fandom, especially if you love seeing the team as family

@soulofevil Perfect Day A soft and beautiful bit of fluff, this will warm your heart!

*has issues with body temperature*

I may or may not be a ‘sleep Martian’ genetic mutant. Huh.

Welp, as X-Men powers go it’s pretty sucktacular to be honest.

this takes place in an au where bad things dont happen constantly and my kids can just be happy 

feat. autistic fitzsimmons and adhd daisy

warning for tooth rotting fluff ahead 

“So am I kicking it on the couch or …?” Daisy nods towardthe bedroom doorway. It’s the first time she’s slept over at their apartment(which isn’t saying much, they only moved in last week) so she’s not sure,doesn’t want to overstep her bounds.

“Nonsense,” Jemma says. “The bed is plenty big enough.”

“And we’ve got a nightlight,” Fitz assures her, deeplyfamiliar with Daisy’s fear of the dark. “It’s not a kiddy one, it’s a nice one.”

Jemma isn’t a fan of the dark either, not after her monthson the planet. But even before that, they’d both never given Daisy a hard timefor it.

She grins, and points toward the bathroom. “I’ll get changedand be there in a sec.”

“Your toothbrush is the red one,” Jemma tells her as shewalks down the hall.

That makes Daisy stop, and turn around. “Wait, you guys gotme a toothbrush?”

“Of course,” Jemma says.

Fitz nods. “For when you stay over.”

Not wanting them to see her get teary (she always gets moreemotional at night), Daisy ducks her head, mumbles a “thanks”, and scoots intothe bathroom. The mirror is still speckled with condensation from Fitz’sshower, and the room smells like his soap. Daisy smiles to herself as she getschanged, and then brushes her teeth with her new toothbrush. She’d gotten newpajamas specifically for this occasion, instead of wearing her usual tank topand SHIELD sweats. They’ve got little cartoon puppies on them, and she likesthem quite a bit.

After she’s done, she makes her way to the bedroom, just asFitz finishes pulling on his own pajamas. Daisy lets her clothes fall into aheap on the ground, which makes Jemma sigh as she scoots in past her from thehallway. Jemma hands a glass of water to Fitz so he can take his meds, thengoes to fold Daisy’s clothes and set them nicely on top of the dresser.

Daisy claps her hands, then rubs them together. “So Itotally get middle, right?”

“Don’t you always?” Jemma asks wryly.

Daisy grins, and climbs into the middle of the bed,scrunching up by the headboard so she can slip under the covers. She goes topick them up, then stops. “Holy hell, why is this so heavy?” She levers it upand down, testing the weight against her hands.

“Weighted blanket,” Fitz tells her, switching on thenightlight.

Cautiously, Daisy scoots underneath it. She lies on herback, drawing the heavy blanket up to her chin.

“Oh,” she says. “That’s … That’s really nice.”

Jemma beams. “Isn’t it lovely?”

“So is this like, an autistic thing, or a ‘you guys’ thing?”

“An autistic thing,” Jemma informs her. “A lot of autisticpeople find the pressure calming, us included.”

“I can totally see why.”

“A lot of people with ADHD like it too,” Fitz says, climbinginto the bed on her right. “Probably why you like it so much.”

“Either way, I’m not complaining.” Daisy lets out acontented sigh.

“Ready for lights off?” Jemma asks, hand hovering over thelight switch. When they both nod, she flips the lights.

“Wow,” Daisy gasps as the room is plunged into neardarkness. “You complete and utter nerds.”

Above her, the whole ceiling is decorated withglow-in-the-dark paint, painted to look like the night sky.

Jemma slides into bed on the other side of her. “Isn’t itbeautiful?”

“Did you do it because of your special interest inastronomy?”

Jemma nods, snuggling into Daisy’s side.

“That’s neat. How come Fitz doesn’t get any special intereststuff in here?”

“Monkey lamp,” Fitz says, pointing.

In the near darkness, Daisy can make out the shape of twobrass monkeys holding the lampshade on the bedside table.

She snorts. “Should’ve figured.” She scoots around in thebed, getting comfortable. Fitz turns and wraps an arm around her middle, nosepressing into her hair. “So I’m assuming these are all real constellations?”

Jemma nods against her shoulder, and then turns to look upat the ceiling. She points to a cluster near the middle of the room. “That’sUrsa Minor there, with Draco wrapping around it. Then to the left is Hercules.Ursa Major is the big one by the door.”

“And I’m guessing you can name all the stars in all thoseconstellations as well?”

Fitz chuckles warmly in Daisy’s ear as Jemma snorts andsays, “Of course,” and starts rattling them off.

Daisy lifts an arm to wrap around Jemma, and Jemma readjustsso her head is pillowed on Daisy’s shoulder, toes flicking against Daisy’s leg.Fitz burrows closer on the other side of Daisy, his thumb tracing slowly overher hip.

I’m always taking prompts, it just takes me a million years to get to them, apparently! Here you are, lovely! Set in the unspecified future when everyone’s free from these framework shenanigans.

++

He leans forward to give the driver their address and then collapses against the back seat. Jemma melts against him, soft and giggly in his arms. It’s not that he thinks he deserves to be rewarded for saving the world so often, but these occasions are rarer than they should be. And how can he regret anything about his life when it’s led him to this particularly perfect moment, but even still would it kill the universe to let evenings like this stretch past the hours allotted for their happiness?

He feels Jemma twisting to look up at him, a pretty frown darkening her features. “Fitzy,” she draws out in a whine that he absolutely shouldn’t find attractive, “why are you being serious now?”

“I’m not,” he tries, but the rest of his protests die on his tongue at her knowing eyeroll. It’s no use; there’s never been any use in hiding things from her, but the desire to protect her from everything bad extends to his own melancholy thoughts.

“Do you remember when I left to find Coulson with Fury’s toolbox, and you made me my favorite sandwich?” The cab driver, on the phone dealing with some minor family emergency, isn’t paying any attention to them, although Fitz is sure this conversation would make no sense to him anyway.

Jemma wrinkles her forehead in confusion. “Of course I remember. What brought that up?”

“That’s the last time I was in a cab.”

“Really?” she asks, eyes wide. “That can’t be right.”

“It is, though. Ever since then it’s been the Zephyr or some other high-tech SHIELD transport. And in…” he pauses, looking away from her briefly. “In, uh, Morocco I hired a car and driver.”

Jemma inhales sharply and her fingers grip his arm so tightly it stings. He’s desperate to draw the hurt from her before it spreads like a poison, so he places a kiss to her forehead and smiles bracingly. “That ended up being quite expensive. Had to buy the guy a new car. Left him a 5-star review on TripAdvisor, though, so maybe he’s forgiven me by now.”

His joke falls between them with a dull ache. “That’s not funny, Fitz,” she says, voice trembling.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I just…that’s not the point.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to form coherent thoughts with alcohol muddling his system. “I was thinking about the last cab ride because…I was really scared. Not sure if I could find Coulson. I was scared of what they’d do to me if they found me, and I was so terrified to leave you behind. But when I saw you’d made me that sandwich I felt…genuinely happy. It was the first time I really believed you and I would be okay. You know, that we were friends again.”

Jemma blinks slowly up at him before grasping his hand between hers, drawing it up to rest against her heart. “We were always more than that,” she says quietly, her words weighted with a truth so long unspoken. Even now, when they’ve entwined their lives as deeply as possible, it feels like a secret too precious to share with the world. 

He swallows thickly, suddenly overwhelmed with how much he loves her and how he’s still sometimes convinced it’s all a miraculous dream.

“The point is,” he says, clearing his throat and leaning his head back against the car door, “that cab rides are better with you.”

She laughs, and he does too, because he’s done a terrible job at expressing the feelings rending his heart. “Everything is better with you,” he clarifies.

Jemma slides her fingers across his brow, tracing his nose, the curve of his jaw, trailing along his lips like the softest kiss.

“We need a vacation,” she says suddenly and he stills, drawn to her honey-eyes and the tenderness she can’t contain. She nods decisively when he doesn’t reply. “That’s what this is about. We had a lovely evening off and now you’re moping because it’s about to end—”

“I’m not moping,” he grumbles, but she presses a quick kiss to his lips and effectively shuts him up.

“You’re moping because it’s about to end,” she repeats. “Come on, Fitz, we deserve this. And we never made it to the Seychelles.”

He can see them so clearly—lounging in bathing suits, drinking cocktails and getting sunburnt despite their best efforts and his lungs ache with the want of it.

“We’d never get the time off approved,” he says sadly, and Jemma smirks at him.

“Maybe you can’t get time off approved, but I’ve already got two weeks secured.”

“What?” he gasps, genuinely shocked. “Since when?”

She shrugs. “I talked it over with Coulson a few weeks ago. I was waiting for the right time to surprise you, which is apparently…now. In the back seat of this cab.”

They both look around at the decidedly unromantic interior of their cab and simultaneously fall into laughter.

“When should we go?” Jemma asks, when she’s gotten herself back under control.

“Now,” he replies, grinning at her eagerly, suddenly looking years younger. She raises an eyebrow and he knows it’s pointless; Jemma Simmons, who creates binders of research for any small decision, will not allow their first romantic getaway to happen with zero planning.

“Next week?” she offers as a compromise and he has to stare at her for a moment before he realizes she’s being completely sincere.

“Yeah,” he says, stunned and breathless. “Next week. Me and you. The Seychelles.”

She draws him towards her, smiling into a kiss. “I’m gonna do something with you on that island that will take your breath away,” she whispers, causing his entire body to go numb.

“Yeah, snorkeling, I know,” he says archly. “Someone told me there are over a thousand species of fish in the Seychelles.”

“I’m not talking about snorkeling,” she replies, voice lower and throatier than it has any right to be, and he audibly gulps.

“Can we perhaps finish this conversation at home?” he pleads, throwing a glance towards the front of the cab where the driver, thankfully, appears still engrossed in his own conversation.

I’m not emo by any means but I still fucking hate most things. The top one being humans. You’re told to be yourself and the second you do, you’re pretty much going get shanked unless your true self is a perfect prince or princess who is genuinely happy putting other people before themselves. But for me, my counselor tells me to start putting myself first a little more and all that causes is destruction and self harm for myself. I /love/ hearing about how selfish, self centered, and spoiled I really am. I’m nice to everyone I meet even if I don’t particularly want to talk to them and take responsibility if something goes wrong in class even if I didn’t do it just so everyone doesn’t get punished. No one notices these things about me however because like a normal person, I vent. I’m not me when I vent. I’m letting out the negative so I could put on a positive outlook for the next day and keep being kind to others. If I don’t vent, the negative stays inside and is painful. As for spoiled…no one can choose what family they’re born into and spoiled is an attitude, not how much money you have. I’m ashamed of money and have a hatred for it because in the movies, the poor kids get made fun of but that’s not my experience. I always try to hide the laptop I have or the phone I use and not make a big deal out of it but I still get teased each and everyday just because of the things I do have. I also don’t appreciate being laughed at as I grab a knife. Cutting yourself isn’t funny and isn’t for attention. It’s for when you feel that you can no longer vent to someone or yourself because you have the nasty ideas of how someone else perceives you in your head and you don’t want to burden anyone or yourself with your mouth. So each cut represents what has been said to me - the words that echo inside my head and build up until I break. Spoiled, self centered, careless, brat, weak, not good enough, unloveable, emotionless. They all add up to scarred wrists, a scarred mind, and a scarred heart. My fear is that someday I will become what people perceive me as and drift away from myself. You know, those as tough as ice were once soft as water but when will I fully become cold? In the moment, I only have a layer of ice to protect me - one which can be broken easily with a few words. Yet each time that layer forms again; it becomes thicker.

a very scared abandoned dog was saved off of the streets and regained her happiness

[Academy Era] When Jemma’s meathead ex-boyfriend callously alleges she’s frigid, Fitz and Simmons team up to prove him wrong. Rated E. Written for @lizziehenstridges based on this picture prompt (NSFW). Thanks to @bigfunnywords for beta-reading, and to @not-the-stupid-cat-again for helping me “plot” this (and making me keep the title).

Sitting cross-legged on Fitz’s bed with textbooks and notes scattered between them, Jemma found her attention continuously wandering back to the very topic she was trying to ignore.

She knew she shouldn’t overthink it. Colin had been upset and lashed out, trying to get under her skin anyway he could — well, mission accomplished. In every other area of her life, she was fairly self-confident, but she was only now, at age eighteen, starting to enjoy a normal social and dating life with people her own age, and there was no denying things hadn’t been going quite as well as she’d hoped.  What Colin had told her was almost certainly wrong but… what if it wasn’t?

“Okay, spill,” Fitz demanded abruptly, clicking his pen on and off before dropping it on the bed beside him. “What’s going on?”

“What are you talking about?” Jemma replied without glancing away from her textbook.

“You’ve been reading that same page for ten minutes. You’re distracted,” he said accusingly, pointing his finger at her. “You’re never distracted. What is it?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged. Fitz shot her an impatient look, raising an eyebrow expectantly, and she slammed her book shut and clutched it to her chest, holding it like a shield. “Oh, alright,” she sighed. “It really is nothing. Nothing important, anyway. I broke up with Colin this morning.”

“Finally,” Fitz said, holding up a hand for her to high five.

Knowing how he held Colin (and all her ex-boyfriends, really) in utter contempt, she complied with a mildly exasperated eye-roll. His jovial attitude towards her romantic misfortune was hardly unusual, and she’d long ago given up on taking offense.

“Christ, he was the worst yet,” he said happily. “Why didn’t you tell me? We should be celebrating! I would have picked up cupcakes, or those weird organic things you like so much.”

“Yeah, no, it’s just—” Jemma glanced away, wringing her hands nervously. “He, um… he said something.”

FITZ WHO CREATED THE NIGHT NIGHT GUN WITH SIMMONS AS A NON-LETHAL OPTION FOR AGENTS.

FITZ WILLING TO SUFFER AND DIE RATHER THAN JOIN GARRETT AND WORK FOR HYDRA.

FITZ WHO WANTED TO BELIEVE IN WARD WHEN EVERYONE DOUBTED HIM.’’

FITZ SMILING AS HE HANDS JEMMA THE OXYGEN AND CONDEMNS HIMSELF TO DEATH SO THAT SHE MIGHT LIVE.

FITZ REFUSING TO GIVE UP, TAKING CHARGE AND INSISTING HE GET SIMMONS BACK, AND BEING MORE THAN WILLING TO DIE ONE WAY OR ANOTHER TRYING.

FITZ WHO SAVES A RESERVATION FOR MONTHS, BUYS OUT THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT OUT OF CONSIDERATION, THEN PULLS OUT JEMMA’S CHAIR… WHILE REFUSING TO CALL IT A DATE AND TREATING HER SO GENTLY.

FITZ WHO WOULD LET HIMSELF BE TORTURED, BUT COULDN’T BEAR TO HEAR JEMMA SCREAM. 

FITZ WHO WOULD PUT HIMSELF AT RISK TO HELP A RANDO SPACE STRANGER DESPITE HIS OWN JEALOUSY AND EMOTIONAL TURMOIL.

FITZ WHO BLUSHES AT THE MENTION OF FRICKLE FRACKLE.

FITZ WHO ONLY WANTS TO PROTECT PEOPLE, BUT WORRIES HE CROSSED A LINE WHEN SOMEONE BETRAYS HIM AND MISUSES THEM.