She said no. Her story started here. Her whole life, she thought she wasn’t wanted. That she didn’t belong, that every family that took her in didn’t want her to stay. Didn’t care. But all that time, it was S.H.I.E.L.D. protecting her. Looking after her. That’s what she took away from the story. Not the family she’ll never have, but the one she’s always had. Here I am telling her something that
could destroy her faith in humanity, and somehow she manages to repair a
little piece of mind.
The world is full of evil and lies and pain and
death, and you can’t hide from it. You can only face it. The question
is, when you do, how do you respond? Who do you become?
“Don’t leave me with the hostiles,” Fitz hissed, grabbing for Jemma as
she moved away, but he caught the tie on the back of her dress by
“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma sighed, rolling her eyes with affectionate annoyance
as the bow unraveled. “Do me up again, would you?”
She turned her back to him, and as he stepped forward to fix the tie,
his hand brushed the silky fabric of her dress over her lower back and
he smelled the faded citrus of the shampoo she must’ve used the night
His hands froze on the little strips of fabric he was supposed to be
tying as he was forcibly reminded of a moment they’d shared before
they’d been married, when their interactions were being monitored
somewhat invasively to assess whether they were really a couple and not
just marrying for a visa (though they were). Helped along by their
pre-existing close friendship, they’d nonetheless come under intense
scrutiny and had on more than one occasion needed to pretend to be
The moment to which he’d been thrown back now had been all sizzling air,
an evening charged by thunderstorms and alcohol and dancing and a
flower in Jemma’s hair–
“Fitz?” Jemma queried in the present.
(undying love to @chinese-bakery for the manip and to @consoledacup for suggestions and sanity!)
I cry a little bit every time I think about this. Hopefully I did it some kind of justice! (Also if anyone reading this ships Skimmons as an OTP, that’s cool too and plz no hate)
“How long do you give Hunter before he’s face-down in the punch bowl?” Fitz muttered against Jemma’s ear as they swayed slowly in place, one hand on the lace back of her wedding dress, one on her hip.
Jemma giggled against his shoulder. She wasn’t normally a giggling person but the whole thing – the champagne, the fairy lights, everyone they loved around them and their matching rings and Fitz, Fitz, Fitz – made it seem appropriate. “Is he not already there?”
He turned his head against hers as if craning to look for their inevitably drunk friend. “Believe it or not he’s teaching your little cousins how to smoke a cigar–”
“He is not!” Jemma protested, laughing, and shoved herself away from his chest just a bit, just to be sure.
But before she could locate the miscreant in question, Daisy appeared beside them with her infectious smile.
So… I’ll admit, #ECCC isn’t for months and months from now, but I wanted to finish my costume over the summer :) it’s done, but I’m just gonna give a little peek right now ;) I’ll post a full picture for con.