Six months. Six months of stolen kisses in the break room, the occasional double date with their respective best friends, and countless inquiries from small children (the best of which, Jemma was fairly positive, was when one of the five year-old’s asked if Mr. Fitz kept his face ‘prickly’ because that’s what happens to boys when they have a girlfriend. Fitz took this as a sign he should shave. Jemma told him not to). A summer of working together on articles about classroom learning techniques and marathoning Doctor Who. Getting Jemma’s science classroom ready and preparing for new students. And, of course, co-babysitting, from time to time.
Yes, Jemma had never been happier, she thought, daydreaming while she cleaned up after a thrilling (and messy) class that involved both first graders and earthworms.
Which was when Skye barreled into the room. “I’ve decided to marry Trip,” she announced.
“Antoine Triplett? I thought you were getting married to Grant Ward?” Jemma asked.
Skye shook her head. “It turns out he has cooties. But Trip loves me. And he gave me pink flowers.”
Jemma looked over from her desk. The little girl was simply nodding, as though what she said was a big deal.
“Pink flowers means you are engaged.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Jemma said, trying to keep her tone serious. “It must be an American custom.”
Skye nodded. “They were for pretend. Cause only grownups give each other real flowers and get married for serious,” she paused. “What was it like when you got married to Mr. Fitz?”
Jemma practically choked. “We arent. Skye, sweetheart, we’ve only been dating for six months. We aren’t married. Not even engaged.”
Skye thought about this for a moment. “You mean, Mr. Fitz hasn’t given you pink flowers yet?”
Skye’s little brow furrowed, as though she was thinking this over, before heading straight out of the room. And walking to Fitz’ class.
“Mr. Fitz,” she started. “I need to teach you about flowers.”
You went with us to Parker and Ginsie’s wedding tonight, which was your first wedding experience. You did well. At one point you and I had to stand in the back for a few minutes, but overall you were chill. After the ceremony you spent a lot of time in the arms of our friends. Notably Lachan and Caitlynn and Ginsie’s dad, Tom.
But like, Grif admits to Tucker back in Blood Gulch that he and Simmons are fuckbuddies but he has romantic feelings for him but isn’t sure they’d be reciprocated so he doesn’t want to say anything but at the same time he super likes Simmons, okay, he wants to get gay married and have gay space babies with the dude, okay
And Tucker is like dude you guys are my otp ngl and they start talking and three hours later Grif and Tucker have planned out Grif and Simmons’ wedding together. Tucker has declared himself best man because obviously he’s the best man for the job
I cannot draw suits and i cant load references to draw suits so i have an I.O.U for grimmons wedding but how about some headcanons instead.
Simmons and Grif both cry at their wedding. They BOTH cry.
And after Simmons reads his vows, Grif just kinda mumbles under his breath “Wow, this is really gay.” and it takes Simmons minutes to calm down enough so he wont throw the bouquet into his stupid dumb face.
When Grif jokingly mumbles no homo against his lips when they kiss, he loses it and starts scolding grif and absolutely no one at the chapel is surprised.
Alternate headcanon, Grif’s vows are just “Dibs” before he dips and kisses Simmons (but he later shares his vows in private since he was too embarrassed to say it in front of everyone. )
Promt: tuckington, with this conversation "if any one asks I'm going to need I to lie and and say we've been dating for six months". 'What are you talking about we have been dating for six months'. 'Good. Commit to that lie.'
(shit didn’t see the Tuckington at first, so I’ll do another one after this with Tuckington if you send me different dialgoue)
This is by far the most stupid thing they’ve ever done.
Simmons is sure of it. And that’s after taking into account a large amount of stupid decisions, including ones that were done while both intoxicated and deathly injured. While the suit he’s in is comfortable, it feels more confining than his battle armor in this setting. Should cuff links feel this tight? Is he sweating as much as he thinks he is? Is the robot side of his face twitching-
“Dude, you are way overthinking this, Grif says, standing next to him. He’s already found his way to the refreshments, sipping at what looks to be a strong glass of whisky. “It’s your brother’s wedding, not Sarge’s target practice.”
Simmons wishes it was Sarge’s target practice. He can dodge the man’s shots by now. His cousins attempts to set him up? That’s another story.
“Shut up,” Simmons hisses. The wedding is nice, more modest than anything Simmons thought his mother capable of throwing, and for that Simmons is thankful. It will make the eventual moment where everything goes to shit less painful. “You’re here to eat the food, not provide commentary.”
“The commentary is a bonus,” Grif says. He’s eying Simmons extended family with interest and as another redhead passes where they’re standing, he smirks. “So you are from a family of gingers? Knew it.”
“Of course you knew it! You’ve seen the photos!” Simmons takes a deep breath as he notices his aunt whispering and pointing at the metal plating on his face. He turns and grabs Grif by his shoulders, adding extra pressure with his robot arm. “Look. You’re here for one reason; to get my aunts off my back about finding a nice girl. Or a nice boy for the ones who’ve finally gotten the memo on my sexuality.” He leans in closer. “If anyone asks, I’m gonna need you to lie, and say we’ve been dating for six months.”
Grif’s mouth falls open a little, his eyes growing a little wide. There’s a hint of irritation in his brow. “What are you talking about, we have been dating for six months.”
Before Simmons can really access that statement, he sees his brother head towards him. Grif’s jokes can wait until later. He claps Grif’s shoulder. “Good. Commit to that lie.”
“Dick!” His brother calls and Simmons walked over to wrap him in a hug. Grif watched, still dumbfounded, his drink dripping onto his shoe.
…for crying while watching Shannon Tweed and Gene Simmons get married? It was beautiful and emotional. And both of their kids singing for them at the reception…ugh. amazing. I’m a baby when I watch people in love get married. It’ll be ten time worse when Jeff&i get married haha I’ll cry tons I’m sure.
“I was laughing,” Simmons comforted, a hand quickly brushed against Fitz’ knee. His best man speech had not exactly gone over well (she was fairly positive everyone else simply misunderstood the joke about the interrupting coefficient of friction… though the one about the group of monkeys was a bit too farfetched for her tastes).
“Out loud?” Fitz grumbled.
He sighed, looking over at his best friend. “So, how are you doing?”
She shrugged. “My mum’s driving me crazy. You’d think that two PhDs would qualify as a life well spent… but apparently my scientific endeavors have hindered her chances of more grandchildren…” she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “But Lance is getting married and I’m happy. I’m not going to let anything spoil that.”
Which was just about when a rather drunk party guest walked over… and spoiled it all.