#tripskye fic

[lvcychen]

When I’m Feeling Alone, You Remind Me Of Home - A Tripdaisy Christmas AU

Happy Holidays everyone!

This is my attempt at a Tripdaisy Holiday AU. Originally, my plan was to post a chapter every day until Christmas, but knowing my writing habits, it might drag on much, much longer than that, haha. But, for now, here it is!

Summary:

After years away, Daisy Johnson returns to her hometown just in time for the holidays. Looking for some peace and quiet, she not only finds back to her old self, but also reawakens old friendships and long forgotten feelings. But can Daisy really escape her past? What is she running from?

Snippet:

December 1st

Daisy had always thought the world looked so beautiful, so magical coated in white. When asked to describe it, she would explain that the season prompted a sense of serenity within her, like someone had laid out a blanket over the world, making it impossible to feel anything but joy and peace. But that had been a long time ago.

Today, she couldn’t help but resent the blankness of it all. The curtain of fog and the wall of thick snowflakes outside the window seemed to be relentlessly suffocating anything in their path, erasing every last memory of the colors that fall had brought with it. Even the early-afternoon sun could not break through to bathe the world in its soft light, and Daisy almost felt grateful for the glass separating her from the cold. Nevertheless, a shiver went through her every time the train flashed past a tree or a car or a house in the distance, disturbing the view of the otherwise smooth landscape.

“Ahem.”

She jumped. Her head flew around to where the noise that had ripped her out of her thoughts had come from and Daisy found herself faced with an elderly man in a black uniform, looking down at her expectantly. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Your ticket, please, ma’am.” The man held out his hand.

“Oh”, she breathed, relieved. For a second, she had thought… “Of course.” She began rummaging through her purse, trying to get a hold of the small document-filled folder her friend Bobbi had given her almost twenty-four hours ago, when she had hugged her Goodbye at Grand Central Station. Right when the conductor cleared his throat one more time, she finally pulled the ticket out and handed it to him. 

After a quick glance at it, the man used a small machine to punch a hole in it before handing it back. “New York to Chicago, huh? That’s a long trip. Is Chicago your final destination?”

“Yes”, Daisy lied. Logically, she knew he was just trying to be friendly and make small-talk, but she couldn’t ignore the instant chill creeping down her spine at his question.

“Well then, you’re lucky.” The genuine expression on his face almost made her want to smile back. “You’re almost there. Have a safe rest of your trip, ma’am.”

“Thanks”, she mumbled, but he was already gone.

READ THE REST ON AO3 - ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

[accio-the-force]

accio-the-force does fic reading bingo  ➞ the family jewels by owlvsdove (TripDaisy, Rated T, 3513 words)

Square Filled: TripDaisy

Author Summary: “This is a lot of pregnancy tests.” “Yes it is.” “Like, a comical amount of pregnancy tests.”

Why I Love It: This fic is so fluffy and cute!  The team interactions are completely spot on (”we’re having a baby?”). Most of all though, Trip is a bright ray of sunshine and I love him so much. This fic highlights what might have been... ♫ hears Adele singing “We could have had it all...” ♫ #TripLives

Read on AO3 // more fic recs

[everyl1ttleth1ng]

The Master and the Midwife resumes! Ch 26 is up on Ao3!

And just in case you want a little taste, here is is, a Fitz/Coulson moment like the ones we love so much in canon:

Once dressed, rugged up, and in the saddle, having been duly cautioned by Mack to be careful of Franklin on the ice, Fitz set off determinedly up the denuded horse-chestnut drive. However, it wasn’t long after leaving the confines of the avenue before his purposeful canter descended into directionless meandering. As it happened he had no particular destination in mind – he hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. Though single it seemed he would remain, purposefulness would perhaps have to come in time.

Over the mist of his breath in the cold, his eyes were drawn to the heavily laden branches above him, bowing beneath the weight of the weather. He found that the thickly falling snow perfectly suited his mood. A robin lighted on a twig just ahead of him, ever so slightly warming the expanse of white with the flash of red at his breast. In lieu of any other specific plan, Fitz followed along behind him as he hopped and twittered from tree to tree above his head.

Just how long this went on, Fitz was entirely unaware. He had fallen into a reverie – sensations and images coming to him unbidden – recalling the night he and Jemma had spent in one another’s arms in the library at Manderston. From there he had flitted in his memory, much like the staccato movement of the robin, to his very first meeting Miss Simmons outside her cottage and thence to dancing with her alone in the music room as Daisy played. Smiling through his icy tears he relived almost their every encounter, crashing at last out into the snow with her on Christmas Day and back into his chilly reality.

Fitz surveyed his surroundings, casting about for a landmark by which to best judge his location and distance from home. As he trotted on, he became aware of a raucous laughter and a high-pitched squeal on the hill that had arisen to his left. A sled rocketed toward him down the slope bearing two figures, rugged up beyond recognition, one bundle of person rather large and the other very tiny.

Landing abruptly in the soft bank of snow that ended just ahead of Franklin’s hooves was a chuckling Dr Coulson and his little pink-cheeked daughter, Bethany, who squealed with delight.

“Again!” the little girl cried, rolling into the powdery snow, clapping her hands. “Again! Again!”

Coulson staggered to his feet in the snow and grinned at Fitz as he drew close enough to be recognised. His greeting was cheery as he helped the little girl to stand. “Look Bethie, it’s Jemma’s friend, Mr Fitz!”

“Hullo,” said little Beth, sidling behind her father’s legs and peering out from behind them.

“A Happy New Year to you and your family, sir,” Coulson said.

“And to you, Dr Coulson,” Fitz replied. “And you of course, Miss Beth,” he added, earning him a shy smile.

“Do you come to call upon Jemma?” Coulson enquired. “She’ll be cognisant of the honour given the weather you’ve endured, Mr Fitz, but just now she seemed to have some urgent matter to discuss with my wife and so Bethie and I have cleared out to give them some privacy.”

It dawned on Fitz that, as yet, Coulson had no notion of what had transpired between he and Miss Simmons and that perhaps, even now, Mrs Coulson was only just hearing the news. Somehow he found this touching – that days had gone by in which she had maintained her silence, even amongst her dearest friends.

On the one hand he was tempted to cheerily reply “Well then, I shan’t disturb them,” and after exchanging a few more pleasantries with Coulson, move off without further comment. However, he could anticipate the inevitable consequence of choosing such a course of action. Dr Coulson would enter his home and casually announce to his wife and apprentice that Mr Fitz had come to call, braving the January snow, but that he would return at a more convenient time. This could never do. He only had one other choice: the truth – all of it.

Fitz dismounted to approach the doctor so as not to be shouting the sad news from the vantage point of all Franklin’s seventeen hands.

As if sensing the young master’s need to talk, Coulson tasked Bethie with gathering some snowdrops for her mother, pointing her to where they grew thickly, their verdant green a lush contrast to their icy surrounds. The little girl ran off eagerly, grasping at the blooms in her gloved hands.

“Dr Coulson,” Fitz began, uncertain how to proceed, “I am not here to call on the Duchess… though I wish with all my heart I had license to do so.” He paused, weighing the delicate favour he had to ask. “I wonder if you might see fit not to mention that you saw me here,” he requested. “It is only that… Oh, Dr Coulson, you must have guessed that I’ve fallen in love with her.”

The older man nodded, his face kindly. “I had suspected. Our Jemma is quite unlike any other.”

Fitz bowed his head under the weight of his agreement. “But it seems you do not know that I made her an offer of marriage, Christmas Day, and was refused,” he rushed on, almost choking over the pain of it.

Coulson grasped the young master’s shoulder, his expression sympathetic. “I am very sorry to hear it, Mr Fitz,” he said. “If any man could have dissuaded her from her long-held vow of celibacy, I would have believed it to be you.”

[sunalsolove]

Day Seven

I hope everyone is recovering from the week-end and ready for a (not very) spooky Halloween. World events have been scary enough as it is :( 

Today is a College AU Trip/Daisy fic with a side of Fitz/Simmons. I was really excited to write this pairing as I hadn’t done so before! I hope you enjoy! Written for the prompt: “Angels and Demons can totally be friends.”

AO3 LINK

Party

beta’d by @robotgort

Daisy smiled at her friend as Jemma tugged on the skirt she was wearing.

“It’s a bit short, don’t you think?” Jemma asked. She was dressed in an angel costume, but the sexy kind with a clingy vee-neck dress that barely came down far enough to be modest. She had tiny wings in back, a halo, and strappy sandals with a kitten heel. Daisy had talked her into it just that afternoon as she’d painted Jemma’s toenails gold.

“You look fine,” Daisy assured her.

“Says the woman dressed like the devil.”

Daisy laughed. Her costume for the off-campus party, where there was going to be a pool and party games, was a tight, bright-red catsuit with a tail and horns. She had lipstick to match and was ready to show off.

“Are you sure he’s going to be here?” Jemma asked, wringing her hands.

“I’m sure Fitz will be here. I talked to his friend, and Hunter swore up and down he was dragging Fitz along to run the stereo system all night.” Daisy rolled her eyes. Maybe they could play a game of seven minutes in heaven and lock Fitz and Jemma in a closet and then just forget to let them out for a couple of hours. That should do the trick of letting nature take its course.

What remained to be seen was if there was anyone interesting for Daisy to meet. Her last boyfriend had turned out to be a total jerkface, and she did not want a repeat of that experience, ever. Thankfully, Ward was out of state at a football game, so Daisy could be a hundred percent sure neither he nor any of his cronies would be at the party.

They could hear the party before they could see it, and once they turned onto the street the old Victorian house was located on, it was abundantly clear which place was party central. The trees on either side of the street were almost bare, and the house was looming and gray, but not the least bit scary as lights blazed in every window, pop music thumped loudly, and college students crowded together on the lawn, porch, and were sitting on windowsills.

Daisy pulled a reluctant Jemma along, ignoring several wolf-whistles, and threaded through the knots of people dressed as vampires, zombies, and sexy-everything-imaginable.

“There, see?” Daisy said, pointing to Fitz who was scowling as he stood beside the stereo system and fiddled with a wire.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Jemma squeaked.

“Oh my god, trust me, he wants to see you.” She marched over to Fitz, Jemma in tow. “Hey, Fitz!” He glanced up.

“Hi, Dais,” he said, looking less than thrilled. He was dressed in plain clothes with a ‘Hello My Name Is’ badge stuck to his shirt. Only it read ‘God’.

“What’s with the tag?” Daisy asked.

“It’s from a TV show,” Jemma said, and Fitz’s gaze darted towards her, obviously not realizing until that moment who Daisy was with. His eyes traveled up and down Jemma’s body, and his face turned pink.

“Hi Jemma,” he said, voice hoarse. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and coughed

“Oh, let me get that button for you,” Jemma reached for Fitz’s collar, and he froze with a dopey look of adoration on his face. Daisy sighed and turned to let them have some time to awkwardly nerd flirt.

She ran right into someone.

“Damn, Girl,” a voice said. She looked up into a handsome face and wide smile. “I was going to say hi because we match—” The guy gestured to himself. He was dressed as a devil as well, with a red vest with nothing under it, black jeans, and a set of horns. “But…I don’t know since you walked in here with an angel.”

She smiled and put her index finger on his chest. “Angels and demons can totally be friends.”

“And what about demons and demons?”

“That remains to be seen. What if we start with a drink?”

The guy put his hand on her lower back to usher her towards the kitchen, and sparks danced up her spine.

“There’s a wide selection to choose from. Crappy beer, even crappier beer, or shitty beer. Your choice.”

“I’ll take a crappy beer, please,” Daisy said with a laugh. The guy bent over a tub filled with ice and Daisy admired the view. Returning with a couple of cans that she didn’t even bother reading the label of, she led him through the throng and up the stairs until she found a padded bench to sit on that was far away enough from the music that they could talk.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” the guy asked. He had lovely dark brown eyes that Daisy was sure she could fall right into.

“Daisy, I’m a computer science major.”

“Antoine Triplett, but call me Trip.”

“And your major?”

He gave her a one-sided smile. “Uh, physical therapy.”

“Oh, wow, cool!”

“You think so?” He looked a little embarrassed.

“It’s good money and steady work, plus you get to help people.” She got the full smile this time, and it was quite the smile. That along with the crimson of his vest against his dark skin and rockin’ biceps were doing something for her. “And you already get bonus points for not asking me if I’m secretly a guy for being into computers.”

Trip laughed. “I’m digging your bod, no matter what gender you are. It’s all good to me anyway.” Oh, damn. She upgraded him from hot to potential boyfriend material. “So why’d you drag your friend in here only to dump her with the radio guy?”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t dump her with him. Jemma only got dressed up and came along with me because I was sure Fitz would be here. She’s got a huge crush on him, and I’m pretty sure it’s mutual but it’s stupidly hard to get either of them to make a move.”

“Wait…that’s Jemma? The Jemma? With the—I’m quoting—‘most brilliant mind and perfect tits’?”

“That sounds like Fitz,” Daisy said, finally cracking open her beer and taking a sip. It was super crappy. “Do you know him?”

“I hang out with him and Hunter sometimes, play video games, that sort of thing. He never shuts up about her. Though I think he’s wrong about her boobs because I’m looking at the perfect set right now.” Trip’s gaze fell to Daisy’s chest.

“Flattery will probably get you everywhere,” she said, tilting her head back and draining half her beer.

The music pulsing through the house changed to something with a slower tempo.

“Want to dance?” Trip asked. “I promise I will not keep my hands to myself.”

“You better not.” She finished her beer and Trip did the same, and they tossed the cans in the trash as they returned to the living room. It was empty of furniture, and a few couples were already wrapped around each other.

Trip bumped her shoulder with his. “Looks like the geniuses figured it out.” She looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, Jemma and Fitz were swaying together. She had her head on his shoulder, and Fitz looked like he was in another dimension of bliss.

“Thank god,” Daisy whispered. “I was going to lock them in a closet together.”

“That’s step two,” Trip said with a chuckle. He put an arm around Daisy, and she slid hers around his neck. He felt really good, strong and warm. His hands trailed down her back to rest right above her rear. “You’ve got some tension, especially in your neck,” he whispered. “I can show you some ways to stretch and some exercises to do to avoid strain while you’re working on computers all day.”

“Mmm,” Daisy replied. “That doesn’t sound very devilish of you.”

“I could show you while we’re naked.”

“Now you’re talking.”

[aosficnet2]

thanks to @mylifemyheartmyhome for the banner

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[agentverbivore]

I just got back from seeing The Greatest Showman, and because I’m incorrigible, I spent most of the movie thinking of an Agents of SHIELD AU of it....

The Greatest Show - a FitzSimmons and TripSkye AU

Jemma Simmons is the daughter of a kind but poor tailor who teaches her to always reach for the stars, no matter how others treat her. She hungers for more than the dirty back alleys in which she scrapes and scrimps for the chemicals and dyes she uses to make her father’s clothes shine a cut above others’. When the filthy rich Alistair Fitz hires her father to become his personal tailer, Jemma runs straight into the first person who doesn’t treat her like the gutter rat she worries she was born to be - the millionaire’s son, Fitz. 

Her offhand suggestions about fuel help his toy cars to run faster and farther than he had ever managed on his own, and she finds herself running into him nearly every day that following week. As they escape the confines of their respective lives, they realize that they just found something they never knew they had each been missing: a partner. He is about to be sent off to engineering school, but in those last few weeks before he leaves, they form a bond that not even distance or class differences can sever. 

For years they write letters back and forth, as Fitz struggles to break away from his cruel father’s expectations and as Jemma recovers from the devastation of her father’s death. In each others’ words they find the only comfort they can in this cold world, and when Fitz finally graduates, Jemma rushes right into his arms. Giving up his inheritance and rejecting his family, he proposes and they move into a tiny flat in the city to pursue their dreams. To make ends meet, Fitz gets a job in a small local mechanic’s shop and she takes a receptionist position at a nearby pharmacy. But that’s not enough for Jemma - she needs the world to see what she can do, who she can be.

Her likability and facility with the chemicals used in lights and fireworks lead Jemma to found the world’s first circus, which she uses to give a home to people along the fringes of the city’s society - the people that she comes to see as her true family. When Jemma meets Miss Daisy Johnson at a high society theatrical event, she recruits the disillusioned young heiress to invest in her growing business. 

Taking on the Ringmaster name Skye, she finds that she connects with the outcasts of the circus like she never did with the stuck-up people at her family’s country clubs. Among Jemma’s crew, she meets contortionist Melinda May, one-handed juggler Phil Coulson, strongmen “Mack” Mackenzie and Joey Gutierrez, acrobat Elena Rodriguez, and - most importantly of them all - flying trapeze artist, Antoine Triplett. But as Skye tries to get closer to Trip, he warns her that her family won’t like them getting involved - and neither will the bigoted crowds that wind ever closer to their stage. Despite her best efforts at convincing him that the others’ prejudices don’t matter to her, he walks away from any hope of a relationship between them.

The circus starts to buckle under the weight of increasingly violent protests, and Jemma is gone for longer and longer periods of time as she tries one endeavor after another to fund the lavish productions. After a particularly garish scandal involving a phony brainwashing scam, Fitz desperately tries to remind Jemma that he doesn’t need fame or riches - all he wants is their life together. Ashamed of how far astray her ambitions have taken her, she abruptly leaves a traveling tour partway through to return home to him. 

Just as Jemma gets back to the city, protesters set her circus hall aflame. Panicked when Trip is nowhere to be seen in the soot-covered crowd in the streets, Skye runs into the fires to rescue him. A few seconds later, he bumps into Jemma, one of the other performers in his arms, and she chases after her friend into the flames. Jemma drags Skye from the burning building just before it collapses, and as Trip cradles Skye’s unconscious form in his arms, he vows he will never leave her again - no matter what anyone else says or thinks. 

As Jemma watches her dreams crackle and disappear before her eyes, she turns to Fitz for comfort, allowing him to wrap her in his arms. She realizes that she could have truly lost everything - had he been in that building. From now on, Jemma promises, they will pursue their dreams together. 

[thesokovianaccords]

Fic Title: There are somethings you might regret + Tripdaisy

Time travel is a funny thing. 

As Daisy looks into the cold expanse of space, the few remaining shards of Earth floating outside the window, she can’t help but think that of all the bizarre, nonsensical things she had seen as an agent of SHIELD, this is objectively the weirdest.

But time travel is a tricky thing. It gets in a person’s head, gives a person ideas about making things right. Changing the past. Righting wrongs.

And as Daisy sits before the window, watching what’s left of the world pass her by, she can only think of one thing: how Trip would have looked outside and said, “C’mon, girl.”

[fake fic meme]

[daisylincs]

The fantastic @libbyweasley won a Treat in my Trick or Treat forever ago, and asked me to rec some FS fluff for a bright spot in busy times. And though I didn't manage to get to it then, I do think that we all need Fitzsimmons sweetness in our lives now just as much, if not more, than we did a month ago - because December and the end of the year just always gets so crazy, right? So today I'm drawing you guys's attention to an utterly amazing FS gem I recently managed to find: One For the Money, And Four to Go, by the amazing @lavendergaia.

Before I tell you all what it's about, though, Libby, I have to confess that, in my spectacular scatterbrainedness, I was halfway through typing up a rec, like, "Oh do you know what's a really amazing FS series? Just Friends by LibbyWeasley." So, uh. Yeah 🤣🤣🤣🤣🙈🙈

But after the RealisationTM, I deliberately went on a hunt for older FS fics that I hope you might not have read yet (... and that are not... by you xD.) Ahh, still so embarrassed 🤣 Anywho. After some hunting, I managed to strike absolute GOLD - and, you know what, I'll just let the summary say it for me:

She's a big believer in philanthropy, but Jemma has no reason to go to a charity date auction. Until there’s suddenly a very good reason to go to a charity date auction.

A Fitzsimmons Charity Date Auction AU

Spoiler: Jemma's "very good reason" is Fitz 🤣🤣🤣😍😍. And, oh, this fic is 17k of pure FAB - Fitzsimmons being awkward dorks but ultimately PERFECTLY suited to each other (and, of course, harboring a teensy mutual crush!) There's also some quality Skimmons friendship and background TripSkye and honestly just, the whole thing is INCREDIBLE.

It's also rated E so, kids, this is not the one for you - please mind the rating!! For those over us over 18, though, this is damn hot, and simultaneously sweet, and funny, and wholeheartedly adorable... and just, ugh, PERFECT. I honestly cannot recommend it enough!!!

And, to crown it all, there are two more sequels after this one, both just as good as the original! Honestly, finding this fic was one of the best things I did last week, and I'm SO glad I did!! 😍😍😍 Hope you enjoy, Libby 💜

[jessicawhitlys]

16 + Trip/Daisy

16. things you said with no space between us

She knows he isn’t real- knows he’s all computer programming and ones and zeroes. But she’s loved ones and zeroes for longer than anything else, so she holds him tighter, squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn’t know her- not really- but he hugs her back, lets her crush herself against him. That’s the kind of guy he is- lets a girl who tears up at the sight of him hug her feelings out.

But words bubble up in her throat- words she never got to tell the real him. Words she always wanted to. Words she needs to release or they’ll choke her.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have enough time,” she whispers, lips brushing his skin- Trip shivers, but doesn’t speak. Just lets her talk. “And I’m sorry I never told you how much I cared. And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. Or that you thought you didn’t save me.”

Trip’s hands grip her back tighter, and a sob wells in Daisy’s throat.

“I love you. And you did save me,” she whispers before she pulls back, letting her hands come to cup his face. So achingly familiar, she etches it into her heart because she knows she’ll never be able to see him again outside of her memories. “Go be the hero this world deserves. Be its Patriot.”

Trip’s dark eyes search hers, and she feels her lower lip tremble as she gives him a half-smile.

“You will always be my hero,” she murmurs before she steps back. Trip looks at her before he cracks just the hint of a smile.

“You’re something else, Daisy Johnson,” he tells her before he salutes her. “Go get ‘em girl.”

She watches him go with shaking hands and a breaking heart.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ for the Anon who prompted (paraphrased):

Genderfluid!Daisy getting drunk and trying to come out to their partner(s)

For the ship of my choice I decided to try my hand at some TripDaisy, and while I don’t think it came out (*ba dum tsh*) as fluffy as you may have intended, I hope the mild angst/hurt/comfort/fluff blend is satisfying :) Hope you like it!

Read on AO3 (~1300wd). Rated light T.

-

now take a hold of your soul

The small club buzzed with life as Daisy Johnson sat at the bar, casually nursing a lemonade as she looked around for someone she was expecting. She beamed when, at last, she saw Trip enter at the other end of the room. As he passed the tables and the dance floor, looking for her, the strobing pink and green lights shone richly on his dark skin, and on his white teeth that shone across the room at her when he beamed back. He opened his arms as he got close, and Daisy slid off her seat, waving for their first round of drinks before embracing him with a kiss.

“Congratulations!” she called, over the music. “You did a great job today! So glad to see you’re finally getting some recognition!”

“You know what they say though,” Trip said, brushing her off, although his humble smile glowed. “Behind every great man is a woman –“

“Shoving him full of congratulatory drinks?” Daisy suggested, holding up one shot for herself, and one for him. “The first one’s the good stuff. It gets more budget after that ‘cause I’m not made of money, but cheers!”

Trip laughed. “Cheers!”

They tapped their glasses together and threw the shots back, and then Daisy pointed a finger at the jukebox. Someone she’d paid earlier dropped a selection, and the iconic 80s drumbeats filled the bar.

“Ooh!” Trip called. “This is my jam!”

Daisy laughed. She’d never met a man with more jams than Trip, and the enthusiasm with which he beckoned her out onto the dancefloor was enough to draw the attention of half the bar. With eyes on them, Trip leaned into it, pretending to throw a lasso around her and pull her toward him before both of them launched into a semi-co-ordinated dance. Whether it was nostalgia or infectious enthusiasm, Daisy was pleased to find that the rest of the crowd got in on the action with ease. Dancing, singing, and eventually, karaoke, made for an even better night than Daisy had planned, and by the time she and Trip had retired to one of the booths – both tipsy, sweaty, and breathing hard – she was riding a high of sugar, alcohol, and endorphins.

“Love you,” she murmured, cuddling into his chest even though they had the whole booth to themselves. “’m proud of you. You know that? You are bad. Ass.”

“Well, thank you, I am,” Trip agreed, turning his glass between his fingers with pride and a little drunkenness swelling his chest. “That’s why we make a perfect pair.”

“Shux.” Daisy grinned a slow, lazy grin, and lay her chin on her hands on the table. She was drunk enough to feel warm, and Trip’s hand was strolling over her back, and if she sunk any further into relaxation, she reckoned, she’d soon start purring like a cat. The sugar high was wearing off, for now. Either that, or she was ascending a level of drunkenness. Probably both, as the still-dancing crowd seemed to blur in time and colour before her eyes. “Geez, how are those guys still going?”

Trip laughed. “When did you turn into such an old granny?”

“The body is willing,” Daisy explained. “The 5am starts are not.”

“Oh, shit, May’s gonna freak –“ Trip very nearly giggled, and Daisy giggled too, her nose crinkling as she did.

“Nah, I got tomorrow off. Gotta treat my man to a proper congratulations!” She slapped his chest – slowly, drunkenly, fluidly and inaccurately – in praise. Then fell into it, and settled there, her face a little mashed into his chest, where she whispered: “Damn, you’re ripped.”

“Oh, you like that?” Trip raised one of his arms, showing off his guns to Daisy, who poked it with a finger.

“You have really nice muscles,” she said. “And a nice face. And a nice ass.”

“Damn right,” Trip agreed. “And I think this ass wants to get us some water, hm?”

“Hate to watch you walk away,” Daisy agreed, mashing the saying into one. Trip headed back to the bar, dancing so that his hips gyrated exaggeratedly, and Daisy, true to her word, watched. By the time he had fetched the jug of water and returned though, the alcohol and the sugar crash and the warped way that time worked when she was drunk - and that time being spent alone – was bringing Daisy down, fast. The smile had faded from her face and she stared at the blue liquid that was her cocktail, as if she could see straight through it to something that still, somehow, meant nothing. Trip swapped the cocktail out for a glass of water and Daisy looked up at him: part of her still distant, but part of her surprised. Maybe even surprised that he’d come back.

“Do you think I’m a freak?” she asked.

“Nah, man,” Trip insisted. “I mean, only in the good ways.”

Daisy snorted derisively, and took a swig of the water, and pulled a face. She’d been looking forward to restoring the sugar high, but she knew water was better for now.

“They’re all bad ways,” she said. “I never fit.”

“Hey, the way things are going, if everyone fit, the world would be a way worse place,” Trip pointed out. “And besides – you fit with some people. The important people. You fit with me, right?”

Daisy sighed.

“I don’t know.”

Trip frowned. He shifted his seat, moving back to Daisy’s side and pulling her into his arms.

“Hey, now, where’s this coming from?” he crooned. “You and me are good, girl. Don’t get down on yourself about that. There’s plenty else in the world to worry about, but not that.”

Daisy shook her head.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked.

“Always.”

“Sometimes… I don’t always feel like girl. Which is crazy because like, I don’t even know what feeling like a girl is supposed to feel like – like that’s crazy, right, how is that a thing – but like… I feel like I just know sometimes. I’m wrong.”

“No,” Trip assured her. “You’re not wrong, Daisy. You’re here. Your existence... is what it is, but it's not wrong. You matter, no matter what. Hey. How long have you been feeling like this?” Daisy shrugged.

“I dunno. My whole life, I guess. I thought it would go away when I found out all the Inhuman stuff but it never really did. It’s just what I am. Just another freaky layer to the freak onion that is my life.”

Trip squeezed her in a hug, kissed her hair and whispered in her ear: “I love the freak onion. Don’t you forget it. And you know, you’re not alone. There’s words for people like you.”

“Yeah, -“

“Nice words,” Trip interrupted, before she could start on a list.

Daisy pouted. “If you start spouting some cheesy shit like ‘hero’ or something I’m getting a cab.”

“You are a hero, whether you like it or not,” Trip pointed out, “but that’s not what I meant. I mean, there’s a whole bunch of people out there who don’t feel like they’re what they were born as -”

“I’m not-“ Daisy started, but Trip didn’t let her cut him off.

“- and some of those people only feel it some of the time. Like, there’s this thing called ‘genderfluid.’ I don’t remember much about it, it came up in Group once, but it’s pretty self-explanatory, isn’t it? Must be where your gender, is like… fluid.”

Daisy took a long drink of water. Trip took this as a reminder, and poured himself one too. And they started again.

“Gender…fluid…” Daisy murmured, pulling out her phone and googling the term. She squinted at some of the articles through her drunkenness. “That’s cool. Lots of gender binary bullshit though. You sure it’s really a thing?”

“Yeah. If you read what people actually talk about, people who experience it, a lot of it sounds like what you said just now. I mean, maybe consider again it when it’s not 2am and we’re not pretty heavily inn—in—well, drunk.” He laughed at himself. “But I’m pretty sure it’s a thing.”

“And – and I mean if it is,” Daisy put forward. “You don’t mind?”

“Look, I’ve revealed a lot of things I’ve regretted at 2am DNMs,” Trip said, “so if you wake up tomorrow and want to forget this whole thing, that’s fine. But if you follow the trail and it means something, I’m here for you. Names, pronouns, the whole shtick if you want.”

“Thanks, but I mean for you,” Daisy pressed. “For us. I mean, if I’m not a girl all the time – that sort of means you’re… not straight all the time.”

Trip shrugged.

“I’m easy, girl. Man. Whichever.” He grinned. “And if it turns out I swing more ways than I thought I did yesterday then that’s fine with me.”

He leaned back against the seat, smooth as a player, with a falsely self-aggrandising grin that, gradually, coaxed a smile out of Daisy at last. Then, more sincerely, he reached for her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Look, Daisy, you’ve always been special,” he said. “You’re an orphan with a family. You’re a human alien. You’re a hero, but you’re also an oxymoron, and that doesn’t mean you’re a freak. Not in a bad way. It just means you were never going to fit in someone’s neat little boxes, and that’s okay. ‘Specially since, you know, ticking boxes - you’re doing that left right and centre, as far as I’m concerned.”

Daisy groaned silently, but she was still smiling.

“I tick your boxes? That’s what you’re going with?”

Trip nodded, a sparkle of mischief back in his eyes as he became satisfied that the worst of Daisy’s drunken despair had passed.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll be here all week.”

Daisy rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and drink your water, babe,” she said, and she drank too.

[springmagpies]

Very intrigued by A Fever Dream Fic 😍

Oh my gosh! A Fever Dream Fic is literally chaotic and I kind of love it. It is based off a really stupid thing my friend said years ago when we were driving. The conversation went something like this:

“There’s a Verizon and an AT&T store right across from one another.” “Ah yes,” he said, his mouth still wrapped up in his bite of burrito, “The Romeo and Juliet story of our era.”

So, this fic is a TripSkye Romeo and Juliet story except one of them works at Verizon and the other works at AT&T. Hence, why it is an absolute fever dream of a fic. It is almost half-way written and it sort of got lost to the many waves of prompt challenges and longer fics, but it is a goal of mine to finish it. Anyway, here’s a taste of the chaos that is this fic:

“Okay okay okay, we’re on it. We’ll go rescue Fitz.” Hunter slid off the stool and followed Trip to the back, switching spots with May. 

They found Fitz up to his ears in the latest stock of iPhones, his hands holding two identical boxes and his crossed knee shaking.

“Hey, mate. Need an iPhone?”

Hunter grinned at his own joke. 

Fitz set the boxes down and smirked. “No. Do you need one to the head?”

“I think he does.” Trip slapped Hunter on the shoulder and sat on the floor next to Fitz, opening the next box filled with phones. 

[lvcychen]

Tripdaisy + road trip

Wooooow would you look a that! I’ve written an actual fic for the first time in almost three years! That being said, I’m suuper rusty in terms of writin so this is probably... not great, lmao. Please bear with me. I’m so so sorry this prompt (along with MANY others) has been sitting in my ask box for so long. I’m not sure anyone really cares for this anymore, but it was still fun writing it, haha!

Here it goes:

Miles and miles of open road are stretching out before her, pink and golden rays of light from the setting sun reflecting in her rearview mirror. They are somewhere in what feels like the middle of nowhere – Wyoming, maybe? Or Nebraska? She can’t really tell anymore. – and it’s been hours since they came across another car. Without taking her eyes off the road, Daisy reaches for the button on the door and lets down the window to feel the evening air on her skin before it cools down.

Trip is asleep on the passenger seat next to her, his face turned towards the window, catching the last glimpses of sunlight. He looks so peaceful, Daisy thinks to herself, you would never guess that he had been shot less than 24 hours ago. Sure, it had been a clean shot to the upper arm, leaving nothing more than a flesh wound, but nevertheless, a chill runs down Daisy’s spine at the memory of watching him go down, and for a second, she can almost hear her own bloodcurdling scream resonating in her ears.

In midst of all the chaos of the mission, the two of them had gotten separated from the rest of the team, with no functioning communication and unable to make it back to the Zephyr before May had extracted the plane, leaving Daisy to tend to Trip’s wound on her own. And now here they are, in a stolen SUV, with stolen backpacks and a stolen change of clothes on the backseat, a Welcome to Nebraska road sign flashing by outside the window, as they’re crossing the country to rejoin their team on base.

“Do you need me to drive for a while?”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Daisy swerves on the empty road for just a second before redirecting the car back into her lane.

“Jesus, Trip”, she hisses, “give a girl a warning, maybe.”

His chuckle is deep and quiet and it sends goosebumps crawling over her arms. “My bad”, he says, as he props himself up in his seat. There is a brief trace of pain in his voice, and it would’ve been inaudible to the untrained ear, but Daisy knows him well enough to catch it, anyway.

For just a moment, she lifts her eyes off of the road to glance at him. Trip’s jaw is tightened, the brows over his dark, glazed-over eyes furrowed, and his breathing comes out shallower than usual. He’s okay, Daisy has to remind herself at the sight of him, he’s safe and he’ll stay that way.

“Daisy?”

His voice once again has her snapping out of her thoughts. “Hm?”

“Want me to drive?”

She shakes her head with as much conviction as she can manage, despite the fact that she can feel herself getting tired and she knows she’ll need a break soon. “You got shot in the arm, Trip.” Though she hadn’t meant it to, it comes out sounding almost like an accusation. “I’m not letting you get behind the wheel.”

 “You can barely keep your eyes open.”

And just as he says it, she feels a yawn rising in her chest. She tries to suppress it, but it’s a lost cause. “I’m okay, really.”

Trip sighs, but his voice is soft, as always, and it prompts a feeling of relief to overcome her. He reaches out and his hand lands on her shoulder. “C’mon girl. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His words are so simple, but they’re all it takes for her to let down her guard. She leans into his touch, and the fatigue washes over her body like a tidal wave. She yawns again, in full force this time, and mumbles: “I’m still not letting you drive though.”

“Dais-“, Trip begins to protest, but she won’t let him finish. Instead, she nods to the road sign they’re coming up on. “Look.”

The letters on the rusty, once-had-been-green sign are hardly recognizable anymore, but right next to it towers another, much newer sign, that clearly reads Western Wallflower Motel.

“We’ll take a room”, Daisy declares, her tone of voice not allowing any argument. “Get a good night’s sleep and continue driving in the morning. Deal?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

No fifteen minutes later, Daisy maneuvers the SUV into the parking lot in front of what has to be the tiniest, shabbiest motel known to mankind. The dull, purple paint is chipping off of the badly painted outside walls, the windows are lined with a thick layer of dust, and the lamps illuminating the building are flickering sporadically.

“This looks like a scene straight out of Psycho”, Daisy mumbles as she shuts off the engine. Without the car’s headlights, the place looks even creepier than it had just a minute ago.

Trip laughs while the two of them get out of the car. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll protect you from any ghosts.”

Daisy halts mid-stretch, her eyebrows moving up towards her hairline. “Ghosts?”

Trip pulls the backseat door open to grab the bags they had hastily stuffed with giftshop shirts and sweatpants to sleep in. He shrugs his shoulders apologetically. “I’ve never actually seen Psycho.”

Still chuckling, they walk over to the glass door with a handwritten paper sign that reads Reception hanging on the inside. When they enter, the teenage girl sitting behind the desk doesn’t seem to notice them, too entranced by the bright light of her phone screen. Standing right in front of the desk, Trip clears his throat loudly in order to draw attention to them, but the girl only chews on her chewing gum harder. Trip and Daisy exchange a look, more amused than anything else. Then, Daisy reaches for the little metal bell on the counter and pounds her fingers down on it a couple times, drawing a series of shrill Ding sounds from it.

Finally, the girl peels her eyes off of her phone and raises her head. With a long sigh, she gets up from her chair and plasters a fake smile onto her face. “Welcome to Western Wallflower Motel”, she recites monotonously, “what can I do for you tonight?”

“Just a room for the night”, Trip explains, leaning himself over the counter slightly and flashing his best brighter-than-the-sun smile at the girl, “please.” Daisy has to hold in a laugh that bubbles up in her chest. She might think his move was ridiculous if it didn’t work on herself every single time.

Immediately, the expression on the teenager’s face become more genuine and Daisy could swear she sees a flush creeping up on her cheeks. “Of course, Sir. However, we only have a one-bed suite left for tonight. But I’m sure you and your… girlfriend won’t mind?”

Now a small snort does escape Daisy’s mouth. Sure, they like to flirt with each other every chance they get and Daisy has had an undeniable crush on Trip for longer than she’d like to admit to herself, but they’re not together together. Trip pretends not to hear her. Instead, all he says is: “We don’t mind at all.”

“Great”, the girl says and picks up one of the keys hanging on the wall behind her. “Your room number will be 201. There are towels up there for you and I’m down here if there’s anything else you need. You can pay in the morning.”

When they finally make it up the stairs and into the room, which is surprisingly clean and well taken care of, Daisy immediately drops down onto the bed with a huff of relief and closes her eyes for a short moment. The bed is a bit small, but she doesn’t mind that at all. She’d shared a bed with Trip before, and especially after the events that got them here, she’s glad for the opportunity to feel him close to her.

When she opens her eyes again, Trip is standing at the foot of the bed, one of their bags unzipped next to him, and his shirt tossed aside on the floor. He’s changed into one of the sweatpants that have the logo of the gift shop printed down one of the legs, but has apparently opted against a shirt. In the dim light of the motel room, Daisy can practically see the exhaustion written across his face, but what really catches her attention is the bandage in contrast to his dark skin. He must have redressed his wound – How long had her eyes been closed? – because the white fabric is wrapped around his upper arm much more neatly than what she had managed to do in the hurry they’d been in.

“Like what you see?”

Daisy shifts her eyes from Trip’s arm to his face, and is met with a smug grin. “You know I do”, she shoots back with a wink.

He tosses her a fresh shirt and says. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice and quickly changes out of her dirty clothes and into the clean top.

They settle into bed easily, and as soon as they’re lying down next to each other, Daisy can sense the tension drain from Trip’s body as if someone had pulled the plug out of a bathtub. They’re lying close enough for Daisy to feel his breathing become more relaxed, and eventually turn slow and steady, making her think he had drifted off. She hadn’t consciously waited to fall asleep until he did, but it had been another act of reassuring herself that he was just fine, alive and breathing right beside her.

Just when she is finally ready to succumb to her own exhaustion, she hears Trip’s voice quietly in the dark: “Can I hold you?”

His words make Daisy’s heart flutter and her chest suddenly feels all fuzzy on the inside. Instead of an answer, she rolls onto her side, crawling closer to him, and tucks herself into his chest. Immediately, his good arm wraps around her middle and she can feel him bury his face n her hair, right where the crook of her neck is. His smell is so warm and familiar and an overwhelming sense of home floods through her. Blindly, she reaches for his hand and entwines her fingers with his.

Daisy is so grateful for this closeness, for the feeling of Trip’s skin against hers, the warmth of his breath on her neck. She’s grateful for the heaving of his chest against her back, a new proof of life every couple of seconds.

This time, they fall asleep simultaneously, tightly entangled with each other.

They can worry about getting home in the morning. For tonight, he is all the home she needs.

[bobbiamorse]

hey fic friends!

I’m starting to write a new long (projected word count at this point is ~75k) AoS fic centering on some ships I haven’t written as much of before (namely Fitzsimmons, Philinda, and Tripskye/Tripdaisy). If you’d be interesting in betaing/cheer-reading/otherwise contributing to this project please send me a message. :)

[everyl1ttleth1ng]

Her sudden twist away from him was initially startling but in a moment she turned back, holding out to him an envelope, yellowed with age.

“A little something from me,” she said. “I’m terribly embarrassed but I thought that where Jemima’s gift was lofty and edifying, this might at least prove entertaining especially in light of your choice of poem.”

Antoine reached into the envelope and slid out a sheaf of papers covered on both sides in a childish scrawl and painstakingly, though clumsily, illustrated.

The first page was filled with stark black, if amateurish, calligraphy, punctuated by generous splodges of ink.

“I was in such trouble from Mrs Hartley for getting into her inkwell,” Daisy recalled, giggling. “I spilled it all over my pinafore and broke several nibs for my pains.”

Antoine would have laughed along has his heart not been thumping fit to burst out of his chest. Young Daisy had risked interrupting her regular supply of pudding and purloined contraband ink to write:

Mr and Mrs Calvin Fitz

together with

Mr and Mrs Fabien Triplett

invite

Mr and Mrs Leopold Fitz

to the wedding of

Daisy

and

Antoine

Saturday 3 rd June, 1814

Triplett looked straight past the immaturity of the handwriting and the splotches of ink and the spelling mistakes and fixated upon the date.

“Daisy,” he breathed. “That is less than six months from today!”

“Yes!” she laughed. “And I checked on Leo’s calendar – the second of June next year will even fall on a Saturday. But do not fear the tasks that lie ahead of us, Antoine. Look at the following pages. Seven-year-old Daisy has the event and our entire future meticulously planned!”

He held his breath as he turned the page to find detailed annotated diagrams of what each of them would wear, what flowers would be included in the bride’s bouquet, who would play the part of best man (“ Leopold wearing blue” was what Daisy had specified) and what they would feast on at the wedding breakfast (“ Passionfruits ,” she had inscribed wistfully, “ for I have only ever read of them in books and they sound unspeakably romantic” ).

Antoine looked up to find himself gazing into deep coffee-coloured eyes that sparkled with mirth and something else he couldn’t quite identify.

“I never knew you entertained the notion of taking me as your husband,” he said, working hard to keep his tone light.

Daisy leaned a little closer. “Oh, I was always in love with you, Antoine,” she whispered, “but it was too precious to tell anyone. I couldn’t stand the thought of you teasing me about it.”

He took her hand and gripped it tightly. “I would never have teased you, Daisy. I couldn’t have.”

In which a romantic development unfolds between the lately widowed Mrs Daisy Ward and her childhood crush, Mr Antoine Triplett. Because of reasons.

The Master and the Midwife Chapter 24 - Read it here!

[bunnykaye]

Hold a pillow, squeeze something (lol) coz it’s Fluffy Friday on @aosrecweek! Fics so fluffy, you’re gonna die!!!!!! *totally do that in an Agnes voice, ok? LMFAO!*

Wonderful Unknown by @jeemmasimmons​ (T, 27k words) - this fic is more recent but OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! I’ve read a couple of fics where Jemma is the one who falls asleep and wakes up in the “future”, but this is the first I’ve read that Fitz is the one who falls asleep and wakes up in the “future”! Remember when Fitz gets knocked out by Coulson on “Yes Men”? This is an AU on how that punch did go a liiiiiittle too much lol. So much fluff! Stay the Course by Lavendergaia (G, 7k words) - the author just tagged this one-shot as “tooth-rotting fluff”.. AND IT IS. IT’S SO FLUFFYYYYYYY!!!! A S2 AU where 1) TRIP LIVES and 2) Skye, Trip, Fitz and Jemma are on a ~mission~ that turns out to be a mini-golf course. Fitz and Jemma’s tentative friendship is still mending but by the end you’ll seriously squee at how cute they are LOL 😂 Plus this TOTALLY is a double-date, so there’s TRIPSKYE! 😉

For Better or For Worse by Lalalli (T, 8k words) - a SciTech AU that has major “The Proposal” vibes! Jemma’s work visa expires but Fitz proposes they get married so Jemma can have a green card. BUT OF COURSE the Immigration gets suspicious of their sudden engagement and wedding so they visit them to investigate. And it’s all just domestic fluff from there!

In Vino by @sunalsolove​ (T, 1k words) - a short little fic where Fitz gets ABSOLUTELY DRUNK and ~forgets~ that he’s married to Jemma. And then proceeds to ~seduce~ her away from her ~husband~. This quick read it absolutely hilarious and cute as hell!

And Life Spins into Motion by @kienova66​ (G, 3k words) - a post S4 AU, and also a Christmas fic! Fitz notices certain ~things about Jemma and it seems like Jemma isn’t aware of it herself 😉

I Don't Change My Mind for Just Anybody by Lalalli (T, 10k words) - I’m a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers fics, and this one is no exception! A non-SHIELD AU where Fitz and Hunter are roommates and Jemma and Bobbi are roommates (initially), and now they’re doing a roommate swap since Hunter and Bobbi are back together. The banter is hilarious and their whole friend group is even funnier! 

The Longest Date by @agentverbivore​ (E, 8k words) - Aaaahhhh I always re-read this one! It’s an AU set after the events of S3 and before the events of S4 where Fitz and Jemma go outside the base on early morning to celebrate the longest day of the year. Lots of kisses and ahem... more!

Love Letters by @sunalsolove​ (T, 3k words) - a soulmate fic where one half of the pair writes on their skin and the other sees the writing on their skin, and vice versa. This is so cute and the way Fitz and Jemma find how they’re each other’s soulmate is adorable! This is a soulmate fic I would LOVE to read more about!

hide until the sun comes out by SuburbanSun (T, 3k words) - Jemma gets her heart broken, then gets sloshed and then does *something* to Fitz. (as for what it is, it’s a secret of course! You have to read the fic! 😝)

May the Melody Surround Us by @jemmafitzsimmons​ (T, 14k words) - one of the best things about Secret Santa exchanges in the fandom is that we get fluffy Christmas fics such as this one! Jemma and Fitz works at the mall, and there’s lots of mutual pining involved!

The Surprising Consequences of Hunter’s Desire for Pizza (Despite the title most definitely a Fitzsimmons fic) by @the-nerdy-stjarna​ (G, 6k words) - a funny New Years Eve AU where Fitz and Jemma meet in an elevator on Jemma’s apartment where Fitz is also crashing for the moment. Oh, and then the elevator gets stuck. LOL. But at least they have pizza! 😂

[aosficnet2]

Hi everyone!

This is the second of three showcases of fics written for our Midyear Fic Exchange! The first showcase is here. The third is coming soon. I hope you all find something to enjoy!

-

How Sweet It Is... by @aosfangirl81 - ship: FitzSimmons A fluffy FitzSimmons Bakery AU featuring Fitz’s sweet tooth, Jemma’s hard work, and everyone’s favourite friend and shipper, Daisy Johnson!

If You’re Going Through Hell - Part 1 by @theclaravoyant - ch: Jemma, brotp: Skimmons, brotp: team - When their captors (post-S4) send the team back to Maveth, Jemma is confronted by the traumas of her past and present.

Mixed Signals by @theresalwaysaway - ship: FitzSimmons A series of conversations between Fitz, Simmons, and their mothers over the course of their budding and blooming relationship.

These Small Hours (These Twists and Turns of Fate) by @triqdaisy - ship: TripSkye - After a dangerous mission leads to her almost losing him, Daisy finally expresses her feelings for Trip - but how will he react?

Achingly Shy by @clearascountryair - ship: FitzSimmons When you're a child prodigy, it's bad enough to have your professor recommend you for tutoring. Worse, when your nemesis is there too! ...Or is it?

There’ll Be Stars In Our Eyes by @buskidsburgade - brotp: women of Shield May takes the girls on an impromptu vacation because after the year they’ve had, they could really use a breather.

Windows and Walls by @notlovenotalways - ship: Fitzsimmons Fitz and Jemma are separated and forced to work together on an unknown project by their captors on a space station. Jemma reminisces on an earlier lab they shared, and Fitz makes a discovery.