*Andy's POV*

I had to be careful with this next part. Gwyn was definitely sensitive about being a fan, and while I was generally super-awesome at charming women, most women weren't driving 68 miles an hour and only kind of paying attention to me. This could prove to be challenging, a lot of my super-slick repertoire was unavailable. Hrm...

"’K, hit me, Hot-shot. Unless… oh fucksauce, are we done?!?" Damn, Gwyn sounded so excited!

"Not a chance! One section remains…" I paused for dramatic effect, noting that Gwyn squirmed a little. "Your fan ficti-"

"D'awww! No way, dude! What?" She glanced briefly at me as though I had announced scrotal stapling was the topic at hand. Well, at least, she made the face I would have made if she had announced that. Not sure what Gwyn actually would have thought. She was definitely a rowdy one, and she did know how to neuter stuff.

I had to be clever. All artists want to share, want their little creations to go forth, to be received well. For me, it was music. Gwyn had fan fiction. Very weird, but same principle. I had to let that guide me so I could get to it! I simply had to read it! It was killing me- was she any good? What was it about? Was her version of me actually like me at all? My ego thrummed, wanting the stroking:

'If girlfriend has written a story about you, you must read it. You must know all about it. Go forth, Biersack,' said the ego, 'go forth.'

I hardened my resolve, my cunning, all my charisma, and went forth. "Doc, look. I know it's different, but we both have the drive to write, to create. I thought we could share. I write songs, and you write stories-"

I was hardly shocked when Gwyn interrupted me. "-Andy, you're a professional musician. And I'm writing online fan fiction! At least, I was. Shit with you in it! It's hardly comparable-"

Well I could interrupt too, though this was risky. "-Why do you write?"

Gwyn made a little, frustrated gesture. "I'm driving and that's a complicated question. Or, fuck! I mean: the answer is complicated!” She huffed. “The short answer is that it's stress relief, it's a creative outlet, and I enjoy doing it, why?" She was getting irritated. Hrmm.

"I write songs for similar reasons, perform for similar reasons. Does that thing happen where, if you don't do it for a while, practice your craft, if you will, you get cranky?" Gwyn nodded and laughed. Phew, good save!

"Yeah, though that sounds pretentious as shit." She rolled her eyes. It occurred to me that I had never thought of shit as pretentious, but I wasn’t going to get derailed by awkward expletive use. Sometimes Gwyn’s excessive swearing missed the mark a little and was a bit less than inspired. Apparently a doctorate wasn’t everything. When I swore, by contrast, it was always on point. At least, I was pretty sure it was. What were we talking about again? Oh, right…

"Um, and do you love it when things you write do well?" Gwyn nodded, though she looked embarrassed. "It's ok, me too! See, it's not that different!"

Gwyn sighed. "But Andy, I mean... It is different in the sense that mine is a hobby and yours is a career. Also, mine has a limitation. I can never make any money doing it, it's the nature of real-person fan fiction-"

"It has a name? Am I the real person?" Whoa.

"Yeah, you're one of them, on the Black Veil site. Shit, there are even university classes about this stuff now, it's gotten so fucking complex, there are whole communities and like subcultures about it. I really don't know all about it. I’m not an expert." Then Gwyn kind of tittered for a bit, before settling down again, which I didn’t get. What was so funny about there being some online genre or community that couldn’t ever make money? She just waved me off when I poked at her to get her to spill.

Gwyn sighed. "It's just that, I mean... It's stuff I wrote before I met you. Like the story I'm working on right now, for example. You don't actually talk like Andrew, it's embarrassing."

"Who gives a shit? I just want to read the story! Will you at least tell me about it? Please?" That got me the biggest sigh of them all.

"You're going to shit your fucking pants, Hot-shot." Uh-oh. Andley? Incest? Gwyn didn't seem like the Juliet-is-a-bitch type...

I kept my eye on the prize and, like a true man, said, "If I do, I'll just change when we get there. Sock it to me, Doc."

But Gwyn just started laughing. "Ah, fuck, I can't even say it!" Oh shit, it must be bad... Eventually, she spat it out. "You're a Forest fairy, dude."

"A Forest Fairy? Are you serious?" It could be worse, but I had to check. "Do I-” man up and ask, I had to do it, “-do I have sex with anyone else in the band?"

Gwyn started hooting and hollering. "Ah, fuck! No!" Her laughter was contagious and eventually I joined in. Damn, that was a relief! I’d have to check and be sure I wasn’t getting reamed by Chris Cerulli, Oli Sykes, or whoever. But ruling out my bandmates took care of 90% of the threats to my butthole.

"Am I the only fairy, like, someone's fucking special fairy buddy, or are there others?" I held on to hope. I didn't want to be the magical tooth fairy, even if it did get me laid.

"Like almost everyone is a fairy, dude. Shit, I'll just show you; maybe tonight. I'm not that far into the story. Jake's not even in it yet-"

I snorted. Jake? A fairy? "Oh fuck, this is awesome-"

"-No, Biersack! If you tell them about the fairies or show them I'll cut your dick off! I haven't even met them yet! I'm fucking serious, there are limits, motherfu-" Her scowl line was very distinct on her forehead right then.

I was witnessing that unique phenomenon: self-righteous, female rage. When a woman has become upset, and believes that she is completely, indisputably in the right. Nothing but completely rolling over will do, lest everything be destroyed in her path. Note to self: tell the guys nothing about Gwyn’s story, let her tell them whatever she wanted, or be killed.

I felt my penis fruitlessly try and crawl into my abdomen. "-Ok, ok! But can I read it? Later? Please?" I was so excited! "Is there any sex? Hubba-hubba."

Gwyn snickered. Sweet! I had soothed the beast with my excellent woman-taming charms. ‘Cause I was the master. "Not yet, but there will be."

I groaned, disappointed. I wanted to see if Gwyn wrote hot sex scenes. She peered quickly at me. "I have other stories, finished ones, with smut in them. We can talk about those later, Hot-shot."

She patted my leg briefly, and it felt loaded with promise. Generally I wasn't really huge on jacking off to sex scenes in fan fiction featuring yours truly. You had to wade through too much crap. But if Gwyn had written something steamy, there wasn't a chance in Hell I was letting her go to sleep without reading her some of it out loud.

Well, that was, if Gwyn had written any sexy-time business from 'my' perspective. I'd laugh my damned ass off if I tried to read anything about how great it felt to have my ‘sweet gash,’ or my ‘little naughty,’ or whatever, plowed by ‘Andy's mighty love-wand!’

I snickered, and Gwyn glanced at me suspiciously. "What?"

"I'm just really excited to read your stuff. Maybe literally." I bit my lip, grinning. I definitely didn't have a boner, but it was too tempting to egg Gwyn on. I waited to see if she would take the bait.

She took it. "Ugh! No car sex!"

Notes

QOTD:
have you written any fan fiction? if so, feel free to share!

(why yes, yes i have: The story you are reading, LOJ, The story Gwyn is writing, NW, a third story called Succubus)
Note: none of them are finished yet, but they're all NC-17 and ridiculously long.

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Former Frankenstein Drag Queens Drummer David 'Scabs' Hughes has passed away, leaving his family with outstanding medical bills and funeral costs (he had no medical or life insurance). There is a gofundme that Wednesday 13 shared to help with expenses, if anyone is in a position to help at all, now is the time:

Gofundme for David 'Scabs' Hughes Funeral expenses, of FDQ