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09.01.19 // space is cool

Fitzsimmons Dictionary | Tea

{definition: a hot drink made by infusing the dried crushed leaves of the tea plant in boiling water.}

     jemma   hadn’t   always   been   a   light   sleeper.   it   was   just   one   of   the   many   ways   she   came   out   of   maveth   a   completely   different   person   than   she   entered.   getting   a   full   night’s   sleep   without   waking   up   in   a   cold   sweat   at   least   twice   was   impossible   in   the   beginning,   but   eventually   her   nervous   system   calmed   down   enough   that   the   slightest   noise   or   movement   of   the   bed   didn’t   wake   her.   especially   when   she   knew   fitz   was   at   her   side.   but   when   he   wasn’t,   when   he   slipped   out   of   bed   to   sneak   off   to   the   lab,   it   didn’t   take   long   for   her   to   wake   with   a   start. 

     her   eyes   fluttered   open   when   she   reached   out   for   him   in   her   sleep   and   her   hand   hit   empty   space   instead   of   finding   his.   she   peered   into   the   darkness,   but   it   only   confirmed   her   suspicions   that   he’d   slipped   away   again.   jemma   sat   up   with   a   sigh,   rubbing   her   palms   into   her   eyes   as   she   clumsily   got   out   of   bed.   bare   feet   padded   against   the   floor   as   she   headed   for   the   lab.   she   pushes   the   door   open.   “   fitz,   ”   she   sighs,   but   there’s   the   faintest   lazy   smile   on   her   lips,   bleary   eyes   fondly   taking   him   in   as   he   worked.   he   was   clearly   too   invested   to   even   hear   her,   if   the   lack   of   acknowledgement   was   anything   to   go   by.   

     she   approached   him   carefully,   resting   a   hand   on   his   shoulder   to   signal   her   presence   before   sliding   it   down   his   back.   there’s   a   small   yawn   as   she   wraps   her   arms   around   him,   her   forehead   resting   on   his   back   and   her   eyes   closing   as   she   takes   a   moment   to   embrace   him   in   silence.   his   familiar   scent,   his   back   against   her   chest,   his   warmth   soaking   into   her,   it   all   melted   away   the   slight   tension   that   had   formed   when   she   woke   up   alone.   “   come   back   to   bed,   ”   she   murmured   finally.   

     the   refusal   a   few   beats   later   was   hardly   a   shock,   but   she   frowned   regardless.   her   embrace   doesn’t   break   as   she   ducks   under   his   arm   so   she   was   standing   in   front   of   him,   resting   her   chin   on   his   chest.   eyelids   are   heavy   as   she   looks   up   at   him   and   she   can   see   the   exhaustion   in   his   eyes   as   well.   “   you’re   tired,   i   can   tell.   you’re   going   to   work   yourself   to   death   over   this   lightsaber,   and   i   won’t   stand   for   it.   ”      her   words   are   stern   but   her   bottom   lip   ever   so   slightly   pokes   out   in   a   pout.   “   i   can’t   sleep.   are   you   making   any   progress,   at   least?   ”

  @simmcns​ asked !! Come back to bed        fitz    &  simmons                                 !!  ask my muse to come back to bed. !!

oh this !  this was hardly a new scenario.    sometimes some of his best work came to him in his sleep and that saw leopold fitz out of bed and into his work station.     holotable on usually without the main lights,    lit the work area and the features of the scottish genius up a harsh blue as he works on thoughts that could only ever come to him.     ignoring hunger,  ignoring tiredness ,   getting lost in his work.

he doesn’t hear it when the door opens,     doesn’t hear the sigh of his name trying to get his attention as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw while his free hand twists the prototyped hologram of his latest invention before him.   what he does feel first is the gentle slide of hands over his back before arms wrap around his chest and a forehead presses between his shoulder blades.

come back to bed.

jemma.

for a moment all fitz did was hum noncommittally,    his brain racing to solve the problems of his work took slightly longer to realize what was being asked of him from the woman he loves.   then the engineer freezes,  just for a moment,   a frown flickering across his face,  before he reanimates once more.   “ no,  well,    no,    because I have to get this finished. ”      and he says it like it’s obvious,     like he’s not exhausted ,     but his words cannot come as a surprise   —–it is his usual answer

hi guys! me and my friends just made a discord server for a next generation rp and we’re looking for people to join in! it takes about 20 years after endgame! canon and oc kids from both movies and comics are invited, and if yiu want to know more about the plot feel free to message me, @johnscn or @simmcns ! if you wanna join, click the link!

Stars are not small or gentle. They are writhing and dying and burning. They are not here to be pretty. I am trying to learn from them.

Caitlyn Siehl, “Sky Poem” (via chocolatefrogs)

Stars, too, were time travelers.

Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children (via baeronism)

Source

not me on the dash for the first time in decades

Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Season Finales 1 - 7