Doing something fandomy
For those of you here for the fic and shit rather than the personal stuff - I posted an old but revised ~400 word peek of Slideverse over here for "show and tell" at wrisomifu. I've opened this and another one back up for the writing of November. I know some of you guys are following me for Slideverse in particular and thought you might like the look. The comm is locked so you can read it here under the cut if you like.
Mikey’s had a wedding ring for about six hours when he and the rest of the guys get to the VMAs. Pete kept meaning to get one when they were in Europe and Mikey kept meaning to remind him but they kept, well, not. Between shows, press, and fucking each other stupid, there wasn't really that much free time.
Pete dragged him away from Gerard into one of those shitty jewelry stores in the international terminal of the Miami-Dade airport and made them get rings. They hadn’t even cleared customs yet. “It’ll be duty free,” Pete had said, like that made it even better somehow.
Mikey grinned and let himself be dragged through the door, ignoring the way Frank was laughing at him into Gerard’s shoulder. “That’s a super reason Pete. I love you too.”
“Look, you need a ring. I need a ring. We’re married. We’re supposed to have rings.” Pete declared.
“You’re grandstanding for fucking tradition now?” Mikey asked as the guy behind the counter eyed them warily. “You married me in a parking lot.”
Pete ignored him and he waved the sales guy over. “Give the nice man your hand,” Pete said, then had had a quick conversation with him in the time it took Mikey to process that statement.
Mikey shoved his hand in his pocket. The guy had shifty eyes. “I need it.”
“He’ll give it back. Right,” Pete glanced down at the guys name tag, “Dennis? You’ll give his hand right back won’t you?”
Dennis didn’t seem amused. “Of course sir.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Mikey sighed as he withdrew his hand and let Dennis measure his left ring finger. Where his wedding ring was supposed to go.
“No,” Pete had said, poking Mikey gently in the chest, right over the still healing tattoo. Mikey hissed and flinching back but not far. It got him his hand back though. Pete grinned at him as he held his own hand out to be fitted. “I’m a territorial asshole is all.”
“No one’s arguing with you on that one”
Pete sighed and leaned down on the glass counter. He tilted his head to the side and gave Mikey that huge, sincere smile that makes Mikey’s stomach flip over. “I’m happy, Mikeyway. Let me do this okay?”
And Pete was, is happy. It’s fucking radiating off of him, a more intense version of the vibration that they’ve been on since before they left Northampton. So Mikey lets him. They walk out of the store and back to the guys ten minutes later with silver bands around their ring fingers.
Mikey’s had a wedding ring for about six hours when he and the rest of the guys get to the VMAs. Pete kept meaning to get one when they were in Europe and Mikey kept meaning to remind him but they kept, well, not. Between shows, press, and fucking each other stupid, there wasn't really that much free time.
Pete dragged him away from Gerard into one of those shitty jewelry stores in the international terminal of the Miami-Dade airport and made them get rings. They hadn’t even cleared customs yet. “It’ll be duty free,” Pete had said, like that made it even better somehow.
Mikey grinned and let himself be dragged through the door, ignoring the way Frank was laughing at him into Gerard’s shoulder. “That’s a super reason Pete. I love you too.”
“Look, you need a ring. I need a ring. We’re married. We’re supposed to have rings.” Pete declared.
“You’re grandstanding for fucking tradition now?” Mikey asked as the guy behind the counter eyed them warily. “You married me in a parking lot.”
Pete ignored him and he waved the sales guy over. “Give the nice man your hand,” Pete said, then had had a quick conversation with him in the time it took Mikey to process that statement.
Mikey shoved his hand in his pocket. The guy had shifty eyes. “I need it.”
“He’ll give it back. Right,” Pete glanced down at the guys name tag, “Dennis? You’ll give his hand right back won’t you?”
Dennis didn’t seem amused. “Of course sir.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Mikey sighed as he withdrew his hand and let Dennis measure his left ring finger. Where his wedding ring was supposed to go.
“No,” Pete had said, poking Mikey gently in the chest, right over the still healing tattoo. Mikey hissed and flinching back but not far. It got him his hand back though. Pete grinned at him as he held his own hand out to be fitted. “I’m a territorial asshole is all.”
“No one’s arguing with you on that one”
Pete sighed and leaned down on the glass counter. He tilted his head to the side and gave Mikey that huge, sincere smile that makes Mikey’s stomach flip over. “I’m happy, Mikeyway. Let me do this okay?”
And Pete was, is happy. It’s fucking radiating off of him, a more intense version of the vibration that they’ve been on since before they left Northampton. So Mikey lets him. They walk out of the store and back to the guys ten minutes later with silver bands around their ring fingers.