#dave grohl fan fic

[studioeisa]

like a python 🧊 jihoon x reader.

jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him.

★ rockstar!jihoon x reader. ★ word count: 2.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol. jihoon-centric, childhood friends, yearning... so much yearning, young k makes a cameo, jihoon is a bit lame (affectionately), cussing/swearing. mentions of alcohol, food. ★ footnotes: got7 dropped winter heptagon and it's all i can think about. wrote this in one sitting as a show of gratitude to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for introducing me to these boys. haven't done a song fic in a hot minute, but for lee jihoon and got7? anything. shoutout to igot7_MarKP on twitter for the english translation of the lyrics.

🎧 now playing: python by got7 — i know i'm an icon, watch me with the lights on; but she got a hold on me like a python.

▸ MUSIC IS HOW I'VE BEEN VENTING NOW... OVERSEAS, I'M SELLING OUT.

It’s pretty surreal to Jihoon, being in a room with some of the biggest names in rock.

In the past hour alone, he’s met Alex Turner, Dave Grohl, and— holy shit, is that Hayley Williams? Jihoon is getting dizzy, and it’s not only because of all the secondhand smoke he’s inhaled since he got to the Rolling Stones afterparty. 

The best of the best. That’s what the invitation had boasted. It was the scene’s most coveted event, and Jihoon somehow made it to the guest list. 

Unbidden, your voice nags from somewhere in the back of his mind. You’re the best, Jihoon-ah. 

He shakes his head, like he’s physically trying to get away from the thought of you. This had been happening a lot more as of late. Fleeting moments wherein he’d imagine how you would react, what you’d say. 

But Jihoon always catches himself. He snaps himself out of it and goes back to recording, goes back to performing. 

God, he needs to get it together. He’s starting to regret saying ‘no’ to the cigarette Ely Buendia was offering him earlier. 

(In Jihoon’s defense, he didn’t smoke often. He didn’t want to fuck up his vocal chords. He had a one-cigarette-a-year rule, and he wasn’t about to use it now. It was only January; who knew what else the year would throw him?) 

Jihoon is contemplating some other vice— maybe he can go grab another beer— when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At the sight of who came up to him, Jihoon immediately folds into a bow. 

“There’s no need for that,” Younghyun says, equal parts amused and embarrassed. “We’re all the same here, yeah?” 

Jihoon pulls himself to his full height. “Not… really,” he says lamely, and then he immediately launches into mumbled apologies when he realizes how he might have sounded. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon thought he was better than his peers. Hell, he knew that he was the least important person in the room. That’s what he meant; they were not all the same, because Jihoon still had a long ways to go. 

Especially when compared to rock icon Young K, who is— gracefully— taking Jihoon’s awkwardness in stride. 

“You’re holding up a lot better than me,” Younghyun muses. “At my first afterparty, I threw up on Rupam Islam.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, unfortunately. He was very nice about it, though.” 

Jihoon lets out a stutter of a laugh. He’s never been a fan of small talk, but he clings to it now like a lifeline. “Does it get easier?” he asks. 

Younghyun’s eyebrows raise. “Throwing up on rockstars?” 

“No, no–”

“I was kidding,” Younghyun says in between chuckles. His expression is a little more pensive when he goes on, “I can’t say for sure that it gets easier, but you learn to deal with it.” 

You learn to deal with it. Jihoon can almost laugh at just how accurate that is. It seems applicable to every aspect of his life— including missing you. 

Jihoon winces. Younghyun notices. 

The older man doesn’t comment on it, probably thinks it’s something else entirely. Younghyun doesn’t flinch away, either, when Jihoon nervously says, “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Ask away,” says Younghyun. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

What is Jihoon doing? He doesn’t know either, but it’s either this or fight off the urge to run through a pack of Marlboros. “How do you cope,” he starts slowly, “with… feelings?” 

A beat. Crap. Jihoon realizes he definitely could have phrased that better, because Younghyun is now looking at him with an expression of mild confusion. 

Jihoon backtracks. “You— we— go through a lot in this field of work. Like, a lot. And you— fuck, fine, I’m— grateful for it, really, I swear. But there’s just… so much other things, too, aside from the gratitude. How do you cope with those?”

Jihoon knows he probably looks and sounds like a trainwreck in his bid to be deliberately vague. By some miracle, Younghyun at least seems to understand what Jihoon is trying to say.

Younghyun’s lip quirks to one side as he thinks of his response. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, but then he gives an answer that’s the last thing Jihoon could have expected. 

“I write,” Younghyun says. 

Jihoon blinks once. Then twice. 

“You write,” he repeats, and the former nods. 

“It’s all in my discography. The anger, the heartbreak, the love.” Younghyun raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve written nearly 200 songs, and all of them are just— that. Questions. Answers to questions. Feelings and stories.” 

It’s so simple, so obvious. It’s like a glaring traffic sign, like something that every musician should know and do.

Put it in a song. Perform it for thousands and leave the muse none the wiser. Profit. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Jihoon had done it a fair amount of times, but never had he considered putting you to pen and paper. The prospect of it makes something in his chest thrum. 

“I—” He clears his throat. “I think I have to go, sunbaenim. It was nice seeing you.” 

A hint of humor glints in Younghyun’s eye, like he’s somewhat aware of the fact he’s witnessing something unravel. “‘Younghyun’ is fine,” he chirps. “And it was nice seeing you, too, Jihoon. Take care of yourself.” 

The words— take care of yourself— are supposed to be a platitude. To Jihoon, it feels like a tall ask. 

▸ I'M TOURING THE WORLD BUT I'M MISSING THE ONE WHO HELD IT DOWN.

Jihoon is exhausted. 

As much as he wants to say that he’s never been this tired in his life, it’d probably be a lie. He’d make the claim, hit the road, then end up crashing out saying the same damn thing. He’s seen this film before; he knows how it ends. 

He falls back on his hotel bed after his shower. A low groan escapes him, and he sends up a silent prayer to all the higher powers there are. Thank you for sheets with a 300-500 thread count. Thank you for air-conditioning. Thank you for warm showers and Listerine. 

Despite his fatigue, Jihoon can’t just go to sleep. Post-show adrenaline always took a couple of hours to wear off.

He briefly contemplates his options. Write a lyric or two? Watch a shitty Netflix movie? Stare out the hotel window until his eyes can’t stay open anymore? 

None of the above, it seems, as he reaches for his phone. 

Jihoon has never been active on SNS; he just couldn’t bring himself to care about things like TikTok trends or Twitter ‘beef’. It’s a constant thorn in his PR team’s side. There is one thing that he bothers to check, though, and God forbid he deny himself the simple pleasure of some good ol’ fashioned pining. 

He’s been on your Instagram page enough times that it’s the first thing that shows when he goes to the search bar. It’s the only thing that shows, really, which gives some pretty good sense of where his head is at. 

Your profile loads. There’s no new post, no recent story. Jihoon is both disappointed and relieved.

No news is good news, he thinks to himself as he leisurely scrolls through the photos he’s already seen a dozen times before. You, feeding sidewalk cats. You, sipping tea at a cafe. You, in all the places that were once Jihoon’s, too. The beaches, the hiking trails, the restaurant in your shared neighborhood. 

Jihoon opens that particular post. Even though he’s watched your life in squares for the better half of the past three years, this is the one photo that always has him feeling a pang of… something. 

Because Jihoon can imagine it— being at that restaurant with you. The two of you had discovered it together, had pooled your measly school allowances to afford the bokguk and ganjang gejang. 

He imagines being there with this older version of you, being the one snapping the picture that’d find a spot on your feed. He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that if he really, really tries, it begins to look more like a memory than a daydream.

But he’s not in Busan, not even in Korea. He’s in the United States instead, where he has ten stops before heading to Canada and Europe. 

Sold-out stadiums. Thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. 

All the food that he could possibly want, and yet it’s pufferfish soup and soy sauce crabs that he’s looking for. 

Every person that he could possibly have, and yet. And yet. 

Jihoon huffs out a frustrated exhale. He’s tired, which he swears makes him delusional. 

He casts his phone aside, blissfully ignorant to the way his finger double taps his screen as he does. 

Halfway across the world, your phone pings.

woozi_universefactory ✓ liked your post. 

▸ I'VE BEEN RUNNING BACKWARDS, RUNNING BACKWARDS LIKE A MARATHON.

The push notification glaring up at Jihoon looks a lot like a bomb that’s about to explode.

Jihoon feels like it’s a bomb, because he refuses to believe that after over a year of absolutely nothing, you’ve messaged first. You’ve messaged first. 

He double, triple checks his calendar. It’s neither of your birthdays. It’s not a holiday, either. Is it Chuseok? No— that doesn’t make sense. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he chides himself under his breath. It’s a text. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jihoon opens the notification. 

And then his heart just. 

Stops. 

You’d sent two messages— the first, being the post that had him spiraling last night. It’s the proceeding message that has Jihoon hoping the ground will swallow him whole. 

Stalking me, Jihoon-ah? 

Holy shit.

Jihoon types out at least three different messages, from Are you a fly on my wall to Is there a new Instagram feature I don’t know about to What happened to “hello, how are you”? 

In the end, he only sends back a single question mark. When he opens the offending post, he immediately sees his transgression. 

Jihoon hadn’t liked the photo before last night. He didn’t like much posts to begin with. How— When— 

His phone pings. He’s never been so thankful that he mostly opts to get room service for breakfast, because the squeak that he lets out is definitely not very rockstar-like. Jihoon fumbles, and he ends up opening your DM before he can psych himself up for it. 

LOL. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, you say. 

Damn you and your ability to render him speechless. Jihoon wonders if he can get away with not responding, with getting back to you a couple of days later and blaming his work. 

Except. 

Jihoon’s fingers slowly move across his screen. 

It was a good post, he says. 

It was a post from a year ago, you answer. 

So? He throws in an emoji of a man shrugging for good measure. Jihoon never uses emojis, but he can make some exceptions. 

Your respond, So, stalking. You were stalking me. 

Jihoon knows he’s digging a hole for himself, knows he’s going to stay up several nights thinking of just how stupid he is. If he were a stronger man, he’d pull the plug on this conversation and that’d be it. You wouldn’t bug him. He would maybe write a song about this moment. The world would go on. 

But he can hear you. 

In the messages, in the words on his screen. He can hear your voice, the way you’d smile or laugh or tease. How you’d say his name in that sing-song tone he once pretended to hate. 

He hears you in your messages, and he’ll live with the secondhand shame if it means that he gets to keep on listening. 

Not stalking, he shoots back. Just checking in. 

Ah, you say. Because you missed me?~

Despite himself, he scoffs. You’ve always been so shameless. It didn’t matter to you that he was WOOZI the rockstar; to you, he would always be Jihoon who lived three houses down. 

As if, he says to your teasing.

You don’t respond anymore. You don’t even read the message, because Jihoon doesn’t see the little ‘Seen’ under his last message.

He waits for it for a minute. Then five minutes. Then seven minutes. He stops checking at the thirteen-minute mark, because he likes to believe he’s no longer a high schooler with a raging crush on the girl next door. 

He’s a grown man. He’s WOOZI, for Christ’s sake. 

He can’t keep coming back to you.

▸ I GAVE YOU MY TIME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH; ALL OF MY FEELINGS, SWEPT UNDER THE RUG.

Except he does. 

WOOZI may not want to. WOOZI may be the bassist writing songs about the past in hopes of leaving things in the past, but Jihoon is a different story. 

Jihoon texts you the moment he lands in Gimhae International Airport. Jihoon stands outside your front door— definitely jetlagged, probably in need of a shower— with his luggage in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Jihoon acts like it’s the world’s biggest inconvenience when he tells you, “Come on, then.” 

The two of you get the crabs and soup. He refuses to talk about his time away; he contents himself with listening, like he always does, and you fill the silence with babble. Your desk job, your parents�� nagging, your hobbies and side hustles. 

“Probably not as interesting as your life,” you joke after a particularly long-winded anecdote about a delivery rider who got your address wrong. 

Jihoon neither confirms nor denies the statement. He only raises one eyebrow and gives you a wordless gesture with his hand. Go on anyway, he’s saying, and you take the cue. 

The meal ends. Jihoon invites you for coffee. Then ice cream. Then a walk. 

“This is very suspicious.” 

Jihoon can’t help it; a snort of laughter escapes him at your words. “Can’t a guy take a friend out to lunch?” he asks humorlessly. 

“And dinner,” you note. 

“And dinner, yes.” 

“And dessert.” 

“And dessert.” 

The two of you are taking the long way home. There’s something to be said about how Jihoon drags his feet, about how you walk like you’re not on borrowed time. Even your conversation moves like you’re beating around the bush.

There is an elephant in the room and Jihoon is done pretending that it’s not there. That it hasn’t been there since the day you two met in primary school, since the first time he held your hand as a teenager, since he became a musician and every song he performed became about you.

Jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him. 

“Are you dying?” 

Your blasé question draws a bark of laughter from him. “Jesus, no,” he says. “Do I have to be dying to want to see you?” 

You don’t answer right away. Jihoon once again has that feeling that he’s said something wrong, something loaded, but you save him from overthinking when you respond with, “You wanted to see me?” 

There it is. That teasing tone, that hint of a smile. 

You bump your shoulder against his. “You missed me, Jihoon-ah. Admit it.” 

And Jihoon is done, Jihoon is tired, Jihoon is still yours after all this time.

“I did,” he finally, finally says. “I missed you.” 

[st4rgiirll]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

welcome to my blog <3

i reblog a lot so i decided to make a masterlist so you can navigate my page easily !

inbox is open: feel free to ask anything

please note that most, if not all, of my stories are 18+ so minors dni!

© st4rgiirll 2024. do not copy, translate or modify my works.

fics

OUTER BANKS

jj maybank fics;

secret

unfortunate

rafe cameron fics;

babysitting troubles - coming soon !

YOUTUBERS

average harry fics;

coming soon!

911

evan “buck” buckley fics;

coming soon!

edmundo diaz fics

coming soon!

LOCKWOOD & CO

anthony lockwood fics;

injuries

HOGWARTS - DISCONTINUED

theodore nott fics;

because i love you - popular !

DERRY GIRLS - DISCONTINUED

james maguire fics;

aye, gag me with a spoon will ye?

FOO FIGHTERS - DISCONTINUED

shane hawkins fics;

cant remember to forget you

MOTLEY CRUE - DISCONTINUED

nikki sixx fics;

piercings and tattoos - nikki sixx x reader x tommy lee !

brooklyn baby

CHARACTER AI BOTS

OUTER BANKS

jj maybank bots;

party stunt

“dont do that…”

mama’s mad

ice skating

kidnapped by singh

party gone wrong

jj's bimbocore gf

cousins wedding

he's back

rafe cameron bots;

frat boy!rafe - coming soon !

party stunt

ice skating

the other woman

maternal love

YOUTUBERS

average harry bots;

stream w/ jack and harry!

PERCY JACKSON

percy jackson bots;

star shopping

sunsetz

baby im yours

pretty boy

amphitrite's daughter

a match into water

ocean eyes

psyche's daughter

step-dad's arguing - TW abuse !

wildest dreams

just dance

hug me, bring it in

TEEN WOLF

stiles stilinski bots;

missed date

winter formal

THE INTERNSHIP

stuart twombly bots;

addicted

911

evan “buck” buckley bots:

dispatcher hostages

edmundo diaz bots

coming soon!

PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER

charlie kelmeckis bots;

high makeout sesh

party

STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

matt sturniolo bots;

you dress differently

chris sturniolo bots;

tour

chris' goth girlfriend

FOO FIGHTERS

dave grohl bots;

party

shane hawkins bots;

sister's bestfriend

writing

talking to your bestfriend

a fan

bestfriend's brother

behind the drum set

catching his eye

sharing a bed

a better version of behind the drum set?

your best friend

HOGWARTS

theodore nott bots;

party

professor

surprise

vent

EVENTS

valentine’s event

[love-kurdt]

What are your all time favourite fanfics from each genre: fluff, smut, and agnst? <3

oh lord, this is TOUGH. i’ve read thousands of fanfics in my life and it’s borderline impossible for me to choose 😭

i can’t rlly separate them into genres per se bc most of them are multi chapter novel-length fics, but i will if applicable!

i’m not a huge fan of condensing entire works into a single word!!! authors work too hard for their writing to be trope-ified like that! so if any of the writers come across this post, please know that i would write fucking essays about these fics if y’all asked.

and one last disclaimer: i’m currently on my phone with limited cell service in europe and can’t jump between tabs to check peoples’ separate tumblr and ao3 usernames, so i’ve tagged who i know off the top of my head!!

so here are my top 10 (in no particular order, just listing what comes to mind first)

“in the sun” (kurt cobain x OC) by ugh-nirvana on wattpad. it has been my favorite fanfiction of all fucking time; i read this at least once a year. primarily fluff and angst, but it follows the OC and kurt through high school and into adulthood. the author and i are actually friends now bc we wrote two of the most popular kurt cobain x OC fics on wattpad 😭🖤

“the windows of this love” (byler angst) by delusional together (Whyyyyy) on ao3. phenomenal story, i cry every time i read it, and i’ve read it so many times it’s kind of a problem lmaooo. it was also one of my inspirations for TIMT.

“that blue gibson” (dave grohl x OC) by thatbluegibson on wattpad. a literal masterpiece. cute, romantic, fluffy, spicy, all of the above.

“the rawest desire (in it’s friendliest form)” (byler smut) by bangingbiddies on ao3. they have a very apropos username; this fic had me slamming my laptop shut multiple times and screaming at my cat. probably the best smut i’ve read tbh.

“i’m a wreck (without you here)” (byler angst) by @oldfashionedmorphine on ao3. INSANE. BEAUTIFUL. LYRICAL. i cannot praise this story highly enough, it’s one of my favorite byler fics of all time. alcoholic mike wheeler is my favorite mike wheeler ngl.

“second chances and dances” (byler angst/fluff) by @foodiewithdahoodie on ao3!!!! i’m a huge sucker for dad mike fics, and this one is *chefs kiss*

“lost without you” (byler angst/fluff) by julia_skysong on ao3. another dad mike fic i actually just finished for the 3rd fucking time in the past 6 months. i recommend reading this whole series, it’s so well written (and is still being written!!).

“fence sitter” (byler smut) by pinkcash on ao3. exactly what the title suggests. sensually spicy and severely suspenseful.

“boy in my class [gerard way]” by lilyrose93 on wattpad. it’s a gerard way x OC. very cute, very cliche, but if you’re looking for ✨fluff✨, this is it. and listen, i know writing about real people who are still alive is kinda weird but like… this one is serious, ok??? 💀

“tell me i’m a bad man” by therevengeparade on wattpad. along the same lines as the one before this— it’s teacher/student frerard. very messy, very smutty, top tier drama. if it helps at all, this was probably my initiation to gay fanfic. so… thanks therevengeparade!!! love u!!!

-

happy reading, friends 🥰🖤✨

[avida-heidia-5]

I was tagged by @twinkodium. This was a lot of fun! Thanks for the tag! 😊

Star Sign:

Aries. 🐏 (I don’t believe in zodiac signs and their supposed meanings. I just know I’m an Aries as I was born on 22nd March. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Favourite Holiday:

Easter! 🐰🥚🌸 Because chocolate. I’m ADDICTED to the stuff! 🍫 Also, Spring is one of my favourite seasons. I just love seeing nature come back to life and seeing more wildlife more often after a long winter period. It brings me so much joy every single time. 😌

Last Meal:

I’ve just eaten homemade toad-in-the-hole for linner (dinner at lunchtime). It was deeeeelicious! 🤤😋

Current Favourite Musician:

Depeche Mode. I fell in love with them ever since they released their latest album Memento Mori (2023). I pretty much binged the whole of their discography on Spotify last year out of sheer curiosity and I’ve now become strangely obsessed with them as a result. I’ve recently learned that fans of DM are called “Devotees”, soooo yeah. I’m a Devotee now! Whoopsie! 🌹🎹

Last Music Listened To:

Meet Me In The Woods by Lord Huron. I like me a good folk rock song to keep me going. This song was just so pleasant to listen to. Plus, it’s very catchy. I couldn’t get it out of my head after listening to it.

Last Movie Watched:

I watched The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018) with my parents on Netflix a couple of weeks ago. For those who don’t know, it’s an anthology film of sorts containing many different stories centred around the Wild West. My dad recommended it to me as he likes watching films made by the Coen Brothers. I don’t have a lot to say about it other than I really enjoyed it. I’m a film buff and I usually have a lot to say about the films I’ve just seen, so having that happen to me was really odd. 🤔

Last TV Show Watched:

I don’t watch a lot of TV and I don’t keep up to date with any shows, so I don’t know if what I’ve put down counts.

I recently finished watching the Fernando (2020–) docuseries on Amazon Prime and I loved it. 🤩 It’s mainly about Fernando Alonso and the many adventures he got up to during his 2-year retirement from F1. It’s really interesting!

Last Book/Fic Finished:

The last book I read was The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum and the last fic I read was a Chalex fic called I Can Feel The Sun On You by mintchocolatechip97.

Last Book/Fic Abandoned:

The book I abandoned quite swiftly was a Dave Grohl autobiography my uncle and auntie got me for Christmas. I was never a Foo Fighters listener and I’m not a Foo Fighters fan. I still have no idea why they thought I’d like it. Sorry to the people who like them, they’re just not for me. 🙁

Currently Reading:

A Pocketful Of Happiness by Richard E. Grant. It’s such a sweet, tender, and heartbreaking autobiography that highlights how he got into acting and how he met and fell in love with his acting coach Joan Washington. ❤️

Last Thing Researched for Writing/Art/Hyperfixation:

“sebastian vettel mark webber 2010 monaco”. Just seeing pictures of these two smiling and hugging each other makes me smile. 🥰 I was also psyching myself up for this week’s F1 Watch Party on Discord, which, funnily enough, will be streaming the 2010 Monaco Grand Prix this Sunday. I can’t wait!!!! 🏎️💨🏁

Favourite Fandom Online Memory:

I love making friends through their interests in the fandom. The F1 community is massive, so it was easy for me to make friends online and in person as a result. I can feel comfortable being weird around them and in turn they can feel comfortable being weird around me. 🥰🥰🥰

Favourite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence:

I used to love the Merlin fandom when it was popular. I still do, but not as strongly as I used to.

Favourite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big “Fandom” But You Wish It Did:

Hmmm, this is a tough question. I’m not fussed with how popular my fandom choices are. If I had to choose one though, I’d say The Beatles. I think a lot of RPFs about certain bands and singers don’t get as much attention as, say, Formula 1 or Super Mario or Supernatural do.

Tempting Project You’re Trying To Rein In/Don’t Have Time For:

I really want to post some more fanfics on AO3, make some more banners on InShot, and do some video editing and gif making on CapCut, but I’m incredibly slow at doing all of them because college work keeps getting in the way of my plans. 😵‍💫 I hardly have enough free time to do any of them. Don’t worry though, I haven’t abandoned them altogether. I will get them done eventually! 🤞🏻

I tag the following peeps: @kaossbells, @hurricane-heatt, @racingliners, @formulaes5, and @wanderingblindly. Feel free to participate if you’d like to. No pressure obviously. 😊

[songbirds-sweet]

Heyo! I hope you’re having a good day

Red Hot Chili Peppers was also one of the first bands I got myself into, they just sound so good! Tragically Hip is awesome too!

I listen to all sort of music from the 70s-80s range, but Rush is probably my all time fav. I also really like Yes and Van Halen :D. And although I don’t really listen to them, Nirvana kinda introduced me to rock because I read Kurt Cobain’s biography so I’m always thankful for that. I listen to tons of bands but since I draw I guess I consider the ones I draw constantly my favorites! I read that you want to start writing fics, how’s that going for you?

Your srs🎄

Oh that is epic! I gotta ask but are you from Canada since you like Rush and the Hip? I'm from outside of Toronto!

I totally get you with Nirvana! I'm more into the Foos then I am Nirvana but it was cause of Nirvana now I'm a HUGE Dave Grohl/Foo Fighters fan.

Oh that's so cool! Who have you drawn?

So I haven't really wrote any yet BUT I'm hoping to eventually! (If I do I'll lean towards GVF since they're my hyperfixation 😂)

I did write a little thing for Marty Friedman as a request a couple years ago! You can check it here

What other kind of artsy talent do you have?

[the-deepestbluesareblack-fanfic]

CHAPTER (42) FORTY-TWO

Well, hello. If anyone is actually here to read this, thank you. 

Wednesday

August 14th, 1997

Cologne, Germany

Dave could hardly recall the events of yesterday. All he could remember was the grand blur of chugging coffee, racing to the airport in a caffeinated daze and landing on a cushioned seat in first class with a mop of giddy blond hair. Speaking in random slurs he can’t possibly recall from a mixture of melatonin still in his system and a downward spiral of a sugar high, he closed his eyes and didn’t register what or where he was.

He was in Germany and a day later, in his present day whirlwind, he just got off stage and played to one of the greatest German crowds in months. The enthusiasm and the yelling. Sweaty bodies rubbing and bumping against each other. Cries and smiles from blurry faces. It was a feeling Dave will never and could never put into the simplest words. It’s just a whole ‘nother world out there, he would always humbly say. You’d have to experience it to know.

But he was backstage, still running with a buzz that hung above his head, below his belt, down his arms and legs, and sent shivers up his spine. It was the adrenaline that could have him riding on this musical high until the next morning. He loved it though. He lived and walked the bare Earth for that mind numbing exhilaration. And, he didn’t just see it in himself. He saw it in everyone backstage. He saw it in his bandmates, in his friends, and crew. The show gave everyone a buzz. He lived for that.

Thankfully, the night wasn’t nearly over. It was simply getting started, they were in Europe for Christ sakes! It was Germany! None of the guys in the band even planned on going back to their hotel rooms and Dave wasn’t going to be the only one to do so. He had been to Europe countless times, but a successful night on stage in a country that is still completely foreign to him causes for a random act of celebration! Like every night in Europe has been for the Foo Fighters.

With four buzzing bodies piling into an SUV, yells falling from their mouths and their drinks grasped tightly to their hands, Taylor gave directions to where their requested destination and the car came to life, causing a sea of fans to spread out to make the road visible once again.

Dave felt a firm slap on the back from his sloshy friend Taylor, hollering in his face, “First show in Europe, so many more to fucking go! Parties, girls - this is gonna be the fucking best!”

“No, Taylor, no girls,” Nate lightly chuckled beside Dave, shaking his head and continuing to sip from his can of beer. Nate “The Saint” was always one to keep it classy and let himself have a good time with a few beers and his closest pals.  Unlike Taylor, who was never too scared to roll in anyone’s mud.

“Oh, that’s right. You and D are in love with your women, I forgot,” Taylor scuffed, but even Dave could hear and feel the many ounces of pain that were circulating Taylor’s mind, heart and bones. “Well, I plan to have some fun with a few ladies while I’m here.”

“And we expected more coming from you,” Pat joked with his always sassy eye roll and a quick inhale from his cigarette.

Dave was yet to speak more than five words to his bandmate about his own personal ordeal that went on only an hour before the show even began. Dave once experienced a phone call break up, but he was the one making the call not receiving it. Behind Taylor story, he only got broken up with about three hours ago. How he was handling it? The simplest way he could. Replacing an important lady with a lady he would never see again.

Dave wanted to reassure his pal that everything was going to be okay again, but Dave couldn’t foresee the future. Hell, Dave should be the last person in the vehicle to turn to Taylor and give him relationship advice. He couldn’t even call his girlfriend to ask her what the hell she has hidden from him. Taylor would only see Dave’s words as a joke, as he should because Dave did too.

What seemed like five seconds, when it was possibly longer or shorter - Dave wouldn’t know - the car hilted to a stop, the car turning off with the twist of a key.

“Ready to fucking party boys!?” Taylor yelled and without a response from anyone in the car, he lept out the door and was quickly submerged and gone in a great mass of people.

“You gotta talk to him man,” he heard Nate say from behind him. “That guy’s gonna explode.”

*

An hour before the show

Dave had a handy cell phone with him for months now, maybe longer, but what would he know about something he hardly knew how to use? Megan always contacted him through his house phone, never through his cellphone and to this day, he still didn’t even know how to turn it off and on. It was down to a complicated science.

Taylor on the other hand, had his cell phone pressed to his ear almost every second of the day. Who he was talking to? That was beyond Dave to know. He always gave random girls his number and he never knew for what reason because Dave never saw those girls again, and he was positive Taylor never did either.

So, as he sat with his small, portable contraption at his fingertips, twiddling it around, wondering if he should give Megan another call just to tell her more than a, “I just landed and I’m at the hotel….I love you, see you in a couple of days.” But he couldn’t. He was still shaking. With the notes and the intruder, God knows his toes were in hysterical shivers.

The show was in an hour and he was hiding away like he used to when Andrew used to roam the halls of random venues. He felt his mere presence, as though he were a ghost from his past, now haunting his present and affecting his future. Only Taylor knew where he was hiding out, and he would enter practically jumping on the very tips of his toes, always enthusiastic about a show. Dave was the same, but not today. Today he felt Taylor was too overly enthusiastic, and it wasn’t a secret to Taylor why Dave’s mood has declined just below the surface of the Earth.

“If it is Andrew, just ignore him. He’s just trying to scare you. He didn’t do anything before to cause you actual harm, what’s he going to do now?” was all Taylor told Dave in short of his comforting words. The only person he could talk to was Megan, but he couldn’t tell her about this. He couldn’t tell her that he went into her office to look for something to pin her as the bad person in this relationship to then telling her that Andrew is possibly trying to blackmail them. Dave knew she could already possibly die of shock.

A soft knock on the door brought Dave back to where he sat, and a slow moving Taylor entered the room and closed the door behind him softly. No jumping up and down, and no glowing smile to match his childlike antics. He sat himself next to Dave, let out a sigh and lit up a cigarette he had sitting behind his ear.

Puffing out the smoke, he turned towards Dave, who broke a new record for not talking to Taylor in hours - nearly the whole day.

“Jesus, buddy. Even when I’m clearly drowning in misery, you can’t even speak up one word about it,” Taylor said. As Dave was about to ask him what was wrong, because a Taylor that isn’t jumping isn’t a normal Taylor, the sad blond spoke up again, “Well I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I just got dumped over a fucking phone call.”

And now Dave’s perfect sphere of loved ones was tumbling down with him. He wasn’t alone - thankfully - but now everyone important in his inner circles were turning their backs on each other. Pat’s leaving the band, Megan is hiding something from Dave, Dave is hiding something from Megan, Margaret broke up Taylor, and Dave couldn’t even imagine what could even happen next.

“Buddy,” Dave croaked out, his throat dried up from not uttering a word all day, but he continued, “I’m sorry, man. I know you really liked her.”

“I did, man. I really did.”

It was back to silence. Dave wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask Taylor why the sudden stop to their relationship was, if it was something he did, or was it Margaret’s indecisiveness in being in a relationship with a musician. Dave couldn’t blame her. Megan ended it once, she had no problem with following in her previous footsteps again. The one of many things that worried Dave.

So, the silence continued, only the loud voices in their minds keeping them up and alert. Their emotions were running around in the air, Dave was surprised they hadn’t wrapped themselves around their necks and choked them to death. Maybe they were waiting to pop in their heads, cause a great commotion of wails and screams. That’ll be the day.

Dave checked his watch. The show was going to start in half an hour. He thought it was best to let his crew and the rest of the band know that he was alive and well, ready to put on the greatest show of their lives. The emotions on and off stage were different, and he was glad those two things could never be conflicted with each other.

He patted Taylor on the shoulder, he was still sitting in silence - shocked silence, “Come on, show starts in thirty minutes.”

Taylor nodded his head and slowly got up, putting his baseball cap back onto his head, but before he either could move towards the door, Taylor’s first words since announcing his sad news were, “The crazy thing is that she sounded so scared to even tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Dave asked.

“To tell me she wanted to break up with me. It was the only thing she told me. She didn’t tell me why. She just told me and hung up,” Taylor explained, so drained of life and emotion.

Dave didn’t know what to say, as he was drained of life and emotion from yesterday as well.

“Come on, let’s go have a drink or something. Get our mind off of these things.”

*

Virginia

There wasn’t much to be done on a Wednesday night in Virginia for two ladies, so a random scary movie, popcorn and wine to reminisce about the old days was just what Megan and Lisa were going to do for the night. They were ditched by Anna yesterday so she could be with her mother a few nights they were here, and Megan was begged by Anna and her mother to join them as well, but Megan wanted to think of the good ol’ days with Lisa. She missed Ginny and Lisa so much, the few women in her life that showed her the greater good in everything. The reasons she was thankful of Dave being the real man he is.

The few days weren’t going as bad as she had initially thought they would - a regular feeling upon arriving to the very familiar and unfamiliar grounds of Virginia. She got to spend some time with Ginny the night she arrived, devouring all the food she cooked for her and Anna. She always missed Ginny. Even if weeks had passed and she hadn’t spoken to her since visiting California and she hadn’t spoken one word to her since, once she gave her a hug and was welcomed back into her old home, she realized she missed her so much.

Tomorrow she was going to have lunch with her old boss Mark, just the two of them, in his new upscale office that he described to Megan over the phone just a few hours ago. In the past seven years, Mark ended up being the only friend she kept from Virginia. She had a few that she would call in birthdays every year when she got to California, but after the first year, she never heard from any of those people again, only Mark. She gave him a call every year on his birthday, for Christmas and New Year, and he could return the favor on her birthday as well. The last time the pair were face-to-face with each other was two years ago, when Mark took a vacation to Los Angeles for two weeks. Though, at the time, she was with Andrew and him being the type he is, controlled Megan when it came to other males; even if they were old friends for many years. So, she only saw him three days two years ago. They had plenty to catch up on.

But sitting in Lisa’s apartment, sharing stories from there many years apart, was another box to be checked off the list of bittersweet sensations since being with Dave again. And she knew there were going to be many more moments, and she couldn’t wait to experience them all. It gave her a reason to be happy to have him back in her life. It was fairytale-like for her, so unreal that it seemed so perfect and beautiful. She didn’t want to give it up. She wanted to feel this way for many more years.

Lisa nudged Megan with her elbow and slid the empty popcorn bowl towards her.

“It’s your turn to make some,” Lisa replied, sucking butter off her fingers, and keeping her eyes locked onto the television screen.

Megan got up, bowl in hand and happily pranced into the kitchen to make the third bowl of popcorn for the night. It was a much needed feeling of relaxation and no responsibilities that needed to be handled. She missed Dave, of course, but by now, a few days apart only made their days together the greatest. And she would be looking forward to them. A few days in Seattle with two of her and Dave’s closest pals, then a few days running in circles together back home with a day reserved in New York for the MTV Video Music Awards. Her first public appearance with Dave. A moment for the magazines and a moment to not screw up. How refreshing.

She threw the unpopped bag of popcorn into the microwave and let her fingers dance over the buttons to add a time. Leaning against the counter, dozing off into her own thoughts about her present and future with Dave, she hadn’t heard Lisa’s house phone ring or that she had answered it.

“Hey! Megan!”

Slightly jumping from the random burst of alertness, Lisa was waving her arms in the air from where she continued to sit on the floor.

“Y-yeah?” Megan weakly responded, slightly turning red from embarrassment. Being caught off guard was always a shameful moment for her. For some reason she always thought people could easily know what she was thinking.

“Dave’s on the phone for you,” Lisa chuckled, noticing Megan’s uneasiness from getting caught in her daydreams, but she quickly exchanged the reddened look for a smile and pranced her way back to reach the phone from Lisa’s hand.

Pressing into to her ear, she was eager and ecstatic to hear Dave’s hollering voice about how amazing it was to be back on tour, how beautiful the sea of German people singing and dancing along to their songs were, and how much he loved doing what he did. So, with as much enthusiasm as she could carry in her voice she spoke, “Hey, how was the show tonight?”

She re-entered the kitchen, not wanting to disturb Lisa who seemed highly focused on the poor film that was playing on the screen.

“It was a, uh- It was a good show,” Dave responded. When Dave failed to elaborate pass those few words, Megan’s back stiffened against the refrigerator she was leaning on. She heard many chattering voices in the background, even a far distant cry of thumping music. He clearly wasn’t in his hotel room, where he would usually give her a call after the show.

“What are you guys up to?” He proceeded to ask, and the lack of any emotion was so clear to Megan, she couldn’t form a sentence to answer his question.

“We’re just-” she paused for a second, the blaring beeps from the microwave bringing her back into Lisa’s kitchen, smelling popcorn that was overly cooked and burned black all the way through. “We’re just watching a movie, and I just burned the popcorn.”

“Oh, alright,” was all he said, almost as though he didn’t hear what Megan just told him. The usual, upbeat Dave would have laughed at Megan burning a simple bag of popcorn and calling her silly, but he ignored her. She felt as though she weren’t even on the phone with him. He cleared his throat and a hopeful feeling arose in Megan, “Hey, have you spoken to Margaret?”

She gritted her teeth in frustration. She didn’t know where this phone call was headed with its random awkward pauses and now a random question about her friend.

“No. Why?”

Another pause, then a sigh. It was good to know he wasn’t fully dead.

“No reason.” Another pause cut short when he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Meg. Bye.”

“Alright, bye. Love y-”

Flat line.

*

Cologne, Germany

Dave couldn’t even look at Taylor. He was angry, frustrated and disappointed. All three feelings were mostly aimed at himself, and all three were also aimed at Megan. She seemed fine, very relaxed. Nothing seemed wrong on that side of the world, but on this side, it was already flipping upside down. Everything was shaking and being crumbled very slowly, and he wouldn’t want to know what his world would look like it if it eventually got wiped out.

And his mind rambled onwards while sitting on a barstool with Nate, while Taylor wrapped both arms around gorgeous women every five seconds. He wanted Taylor to break down crying. He wanted Taylor to run out of this crowded room because his heart was practically in splinters. He wanted Taylor to call Margaret and beg to explain herself. He wanted Taylor to have some sort of compassion. Dave wanted him to because he didn’t want to be the weakest. He didn’t want to be the only one being pulled by a thread.

But there Taylor was. Buying drinks for girls and letting himself have a good time. Maybe it was because he wasn’t hurting or maybe because he wanted to forgot about Margaret, and the only way he could do that is if he acted like the old Taylor. Dave was hoping for the second option.

“Are you really going to let him do this to himself?” Nate asked Dave, Nate’s eyes locked on Taylor and the various girls he gathered in his corner. “His heart’s broke, Dave. It’s obvious.”

Dave dragged his fingers over his eyes and sighed. He slammed his forearms onto the wooden bar and shook his head to himself.

“What the hell am I going to do, Nate? Be his Fairy Godmother?”

Nate turned back to Dave, almost annoyed, he spoke, “Well, what’s wrong with you? You hid the entire time backstage and now you tried to seclude yourself in this bar. Paradise with Megan is over or something?”

He pressed his bottle of beer to his lips and mumbled against the rim, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?” Nate sipped his own beer, curiosity getting the best of him.

Dave shrugged, keeping all conversations today with everyone short and brief. He didn’t want to interact with anyone. He still felt as though Andrew was spying on him from any corner of this small, over crowded place. For all Dave knew, he could have been at the show tonight. Anywhere in the entire venue.

“Shit’s just weird right now,” Dave announced, now letting it settle that subtle answers with Nate are hardly acceptable, even when it the main subject was Megan. Dave practically cried on Nate’s shoulder about Megan before Taylor was even part of the band. He knew Dave and Megan’s love story more than anyone else in Dave’s life. If anyone should know about any suspicious things between Megan and Dave, it should be Nate.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Dave. What is it?” asked Nate.

How could Dave put the past few days in simple words? He knew he couldn’t and he wasn’t even going to try. So he just shoved his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled the only way he could express his change in everything. He slid the cryptic notes and photographic evidence towards Nate with the palm of his hand, feeling like his hand was on fire just by making the slightest contact with the withered pieces of paper.

He felt the same shaken sensation through the entire night, but he finally felt the shivers crawl up his spine every time he let his eyes hover over the sloppy letters.

What more could he do? Was there anything he could do? Andrew had him trapped. And he was more than certain it was him. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to watch his relationship fall into the depths of misery and sorrow.

“God,” he heard Nate say quietly, a tone of disgust wrapping around Dave’s ears, “This is just freaky. This guy’s a fucking creep.”

Nate shoved them back, with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the same burning ache that Dave felt too. Nate couldn’t recall ever letting his eyes fall on Andrew, but maybe he had, he just knew enough stories to know who he was and what he could do.

“What the hell does he want from you? It can’t be Megan. He fucked her over too many times to actually sabotage everything for you,” Nate stated, and Dave could only shrug his shoulders. He could never understand and probably will never understand why Andrew just couldn’t live in the back of his mind anymore.

After fiddling with his fingers for too long and growing tired beyond belief about absolutely everything, he decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel by foot. Not knowing the exact time or steps it’ll take him back to his destination, he ventured forth in his tattered clothes and heart.

He allowed himself to pass by drunk men whistling at women, couples feverishly kissing against street poles and homeless men and women begging for money, which he always kindly gave even if it was only just a simple quarter he had sitting in his pocket.

He let the foreign air run freely upon his skin. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable in so long. If Dave could calculate correctly, it probably had been months since he last felt himself slowly dissolve into nothing.

Maybe he deserved this. For every bad thing he ever did in the handful of years he didn’t see Megan. For failing to be a more helpful friend to Kurt, for hurting Jennifer in various ways throughout their marriage, for breaking Louise’s heart in such a vicious and careless manner, and for dragging Megan along all his deadly antics in just a few months.

It killed him on the inside to know that nothing truly bad could be going on in Megan’s life if he just stayed away. She was living a practically normal life with a man who wasn’t her Prince Charming, but she couldn’t see beyond his meaner aspects. She didn’t know and maybe it was meant to be that way. Maybe he wasn’t suppose to save her from her misery because she wouldn’t have to experience this heart wrenching battle that Dave had put through since slipping that letter into her mailbox. Maybe it wasn’t the way things were suppose to be.

Dave couldn’t hear a word from all his thoughts yelling at him at once, but when a soft hand wrapped around his left bicep and gave it firm, but gentle squeak, he was jumped out of his cruel thoughts and face to face with the stranger.

“Why is Dave Grohl, of all people, walking the streets of Germany all alone with a giant frown on his face?”

Dave was sure his face registered from sadness to utter shock in a split second when his eyes made contact with a very familiar pair of giant blue eyes.

“Oh m- Louise? What are-” Dave frantically looked around in his unfamiliar surroundings to realize no one was on this long, empty street. Only a very occupied couple across the street with their tongues down each others throat. “What are you doing here?”

“European festivals? We both play Bizarre Fest tomorrow, remember?”

Dave attempted to wipe his head clear of all the things he was thinking of while he was walking. “Right, right.”

Dave stood before her, and realized she was always a beautiful sight to look at. She always had a great, mystic wonder in her eyes and Dave could read stories off of them. But his mind was far off into the universe to even allow himself to reminisce for even two seconds. So he cleared his throat, in a frantic haze and said, “I gotta head back to my hotel. The show tonight completely drained me.”

Before he could turn around, without a goodbye, without even an explanation for his bad behavior only a few months ago, she squeezed his bicep again and said, “Have a drink with me. No bad blood, just a drink.”

He could have said no. The simplest word he would have told any other woman tonight if she was standing in front of him, but his knees were practically gravitating towards the ground. His heart was sunken so below his chest that it was pulling him towards the dirt of the ground, and it was beyond his control what his heart wanted to come out of his mouth, so with clear doubt and hidden future remorse, the words he spoke were, “Yeah, I could go for a few cold ones.”

And he wondered who was going to have a more eventful night: Him or Taylor.

[kurtfanfic]

WOW

Hey guys...... it seriously has been a long time.... going through my old posts has brought back these nostalgic feelings on how happy writing this really made me.... and to see what was going on in my life at the time.  I have seriously been through a lot, but haven’t we all!

I want to start writing this story again but i’m not sure that any one would care anymore lol

please if your reading this, reach out and let me know! i would love to have like a co writer too to help me get back into this! 

i seriously missed you all!!

also i think im gonna be posting this stroy on Wattpad if anyone is interested!!

[nowitsdarkfic]

Too many times tragedy will strike and a writer will stop. And it’s heartbreaking because I can’t help but wonder how many stories out there that are wonderful, beautifully written and constructed to perfection and had to be cut short because the poor soul writing it lost a friend or a family member or whoever. How many books out there are left buried in the unknown because the author couldn’t find the time or the motivation to write it all down.

There’s no better example of this than in fan writing. I see it happen all the time, like 90simaginesandfanfics. If I remember correctly, it was like her friend died and she started to lose motivation, and then her personal life fell apart and she went on that long hiatus last winter. That’s just one example, too: writing sites are filled to the brim with dead or comatose fics.

See, I’m the diametric opposite of this. When Chris passed, and that summer nearly killed me, I just thought to myself one day “you know, I’ve got to do something.” It was like when Kurt Cobain passed and Dave Grohl said he was going to live like there’s no tomorrow and he went on to form Foo Fighters: I decided to write like there’s no tomorrow. I wrote my first novel, and I just kept going. I was by myself, too, both virtually and in real life: pretty much all of last year, I was either bunked up in my room or down the hill with my laptop while my mom went to work for almost 12 hours a day, five days a week, which gave me tons of time to write and hone in my skills.

Since Tuesday, I’ve been nothing but motivated to write this fic. I’m at the point now where I need to write, and if I don’t, I’m gonna lose it. I need to tell this story of what happened to Maya and what’s in store for Joey and Lars.

What’s my secret, you ask? It’s not really a secret, just I’ve been exposed to the pain and suffering of the world from a young age and since 2017, I decided I’m not going to sit back and let the stars play with the same stories we see ad infinitum. I’m not going to sit back and let a fandom that has left me behind continue on without knowing who I am first. I’m a Soundgarden fan who was put into exile after Chris passed (both by my own choosing and from the fact I can’t hardly get along with a lot of people anymore--way too much testosterone and too much of a victim complex in that fanbase) and found solace in the heavy metal fandom. 

I guess you could say that’s my secret: I feel the story within me so much that I refuse to go down without a fight. I feel Joey and I feel Lars. I need to write for fandom, for myself, and for those two men.

Conversely, I also wish it was that easy to say “if I can do it, you can, too” because it’s not always the case. But I also wish more fan writers could find the time to write as prolifically as I can as well, and I don’t know what hurts me more.

[uglypastels]

i love everytime you talk about rockstar!eddie or just anything you mention of him performing with corroded coffin (whether they're big or just playing in the hideout) i was wondering if you use any real life musicians as inspo for him? or like, what kind of musician eddie would be if comparing him to the real ones idk if that made sense?

ooh yeah i for sure take inspo from some of the music i listen to, so this probably wouldn't be correct for everyone - I'm sure others see their rockstar!eddie differently, and I've written fics with him being different too, but if i had to make a character sheet for rockstar!eddie this is the inspo i would use

Damiano David/Maneskin - i just made a post mentioning a maneskin song, but i also just feel like CC songs would also be absolutely filthy, not hiding behind anything, just straight up talking about kinks and fucking etc, but would also have some beautiful lyrics that would make people cry. and yeah, just exude sex in the best way possible

matty healy - I've also made slight references to him before lol. i feel like Eddie would definitely be one of these artists that enjoys pissing people off. and he would make fun of his fans and he would be absolutely chaotic during the shows, but would also be able to speak out about important topics if needed.

dave grohl - maybe a bit left field but i feel like Eddie would also, while being a little shit, also have a very aged and wise feel about him. especially as he got older and a bit of a legend in the industry, he would be an absolute vibe. not to mention, i can definitely picture him also breaking his fucking leg in the middle of the show and just continue playing or at least coming back as soon as the leg was set in a cast.

and then obviously CC would take inspo from all their favourite bands. I'm not sure if they would actually play metal (i mean, just because you listen to one type of music, doesn't mean you also want to make it??) but it would definitely have metal influences.

[imacrowcawcaw]

I write a lot of rpf (rock n roll fan here). And a lot of that rpf is smut. Where do I publish it? Rockfic, which requires an account to read pretty much everything And AO3, which has VERY clear tags and warnings, plus the bandoms I write for are pretty self contained and small. I don't really post taboo/explicit stuff on tumblr anymore. I take tagging and warning very seriously; I take my role as fan and writer/creator in fandom very seriously. One of the biggest things I always stress is that it! Is! Fiction! I'm taking this concept of a person, this rockstar persona and a fewvknown facts cherrypicked from interviews, and I am making an entirely new character to play around with. I feel like rpf is taken as an outstanding statement of depravity and irresponsibility instead of what it actually is: fanfiction. If you think that Dave Grohl and Iggy Pop actually got it on wearing sparkly evening gowns and drinking orange juice, that is YOUR problem (never wrote that but I swear to fuck I read a fic description ahout it at some point). It is a fantasy using the image of a person and a few picked characteristics that I have chosen to share in a safe, enclosed space.

Speaking of, like @ao3commentoftheday said, the rules of fandom really need to he revisited and spread around again. My main two are "don't like, don't read" and "don't do anything that could lead the actual person (in rpf works) back to the fiction". I know there are others, but I'm tired and starting to release that there isn't much meat to my actual comment so I'll log off and say goodnight to every single lovely wroter of rpf

in defense of RPF

If you’ve watched TV on any network or heard of any Oscar-nominated movies ever in your life, then you’ve seen RPF. It’s just not called RPF. It’s often called a “biopic” or “historical fiction” or “based on real life events.”

The Crown? RPF.

Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocket Man? RPF.

The Social Network? RPF.

A fairly large number of Doctor Who episodes? RPF.

Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter? RPF.

Just look at the actors who have won Oscars. In the last two decades, 22 out of 40 leads won for playing biographical roles (55%). And this isn’t a recent trend, either. We’ve been writing books and movies and TV shows about real people for as long as humans have been able to write. 

So why do people hate RPF so much in fanfiction form? I think an argument can be made that it’s not the RPF that’s the problem. It’s the sex. Somehow, writing a story about a real person and including a sex scene in it is worse than just writing a story about them that doesn’t include sex. 

So is the problem RPF? Mainstream awards shows would have me believe that it’s not. Entire genres of literature and film make me think that writing fictional stories about real people isn’t an issue at all. It’s writing stories about those real people having sex with other people that causes the problem. Which means that the problem isn’t RPF at all, it’s sex. 

The F in RPF stands for Fiction. People who post it on AO3 are posting it on a website that is specifically dedicated to fiction. Anyone reading a story on AO3 and thinking that it’s an accurate portrayal of reality probably doesn’t even know what AO3 is. Which makes me wonder how they found the story to begin with. 

Pick your genre of fanfiction and someone out there has a problem with it, and a lot of the time that problem comes down to the wrong people having the wrong kind of sex.  Or the right people having sex, but the wrong people are writing it. 

RPF exists in the world. It’s written about the famous and the nameless. It’s written about the dead and the living. It’s written about adults and about children. 

If you don’t enjoy RPF, don’t read it. But leave the people who like it alone. A fantasy is still just a fantasy, even if you write it down.

[90sdavegrohl-fic]

First off, I LOVE THIS STORY!!!!! YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER!!! But also I was wondering, do you know where this Dave grohl story is. Like title was Dave Grohl Fan Fic and the main characters name was Alison (Ally) and meets Dave through a tryout after Franz Stahl leaves. Again, this is probably the best fic I've read. Thanks!

Thank you so much and no i’m so sorry I don’t. Like me I’m assuming life got in the way and they forgot about it. 

[the-deepestbluesareblack-fanfic]

CHAPTER (41) FORTY-ONE

Not enough sorry’s in the world. I missed this though.

Tuesday

August 12th, 1997

Virginia

This had been the first time, since making her move to California, that she visited Virginia twice in a single year. Usually she would only go once a year, or not at all. She never had any business to go back. Visit old co-workers for a few days and disappear back to the L.A. madness was all the she seemed to be up for.

Anna went back to Virginia for nearly every single holiday; Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, family members birthdays. Her and Max always flew over and spent days with Anna’s family and Megan always kindly declined the nice offer from Anna’s mother to join them. She would rather be miserable with Andrew while watching old Christmas movies, then be miserable in a town that held good memories that made her miserable.

It was never a haunting or eerie feeling that would cast over her when she thought about going back to Virginia for a few days and she never grew uncomfortable while setting foot there, but it was the feeling of nostalgia that never seemed to wave away. She always wished she was seven years younger again and do things different. Take different chances. Maybe things turned out better this way.

Anna and Megan walked out of the airport, both clutching onto their luggage, looking around and hoping to quickly spot Lisa. Megan had agreed to stay in Lisa’s two bedroom apartment, while Anna would be staying at her mother’s house later that night. Dave’s mother offered Anna and Megan two spare rooms that used to belong to Lisa and Dave when they were still children, but they didn’t want to burden Ginny with trouble, although Ginny continuously reminded them that it was no trouble at all.

Megan, of course, got an open invite to stay with Anna’s mother, but wanted to take the chance to be with Lisa again. The two hadn’t been alone in years, even before her split with Dave.

“She’s over there,” Anna pointed out and Megan followed her stare, spotting Lisa waving at them from behind a shuttle bus. Megan waved back and followed Anna’s lead to where Lisa was waiting for them.

Lisa popped her trunk open so the girls could but their luggages in and greeted them properly once they were in place.

“Lisa!” Anna reacted before Megan could step forward. She wrapped her arms around Lisa and the hug looked nearly suffocating as Lisa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, but still managed to wrapped her arms around Anna as well. “It’s been seven years and it’s all Megan’s fault!”

“Nice,” Megan sighed as she hugged Lisa once Anna was done choking her.

“It’s true, Meg. You broke up with Dave and you broke everyone up with each other,” Lisa laughed. They all rounded the car, Megan making her way to the passenger seat, leaving Anna sitting alone in the back. “My mom’s pretty sad that you aren’t stay at her house, but she insisted on having you guys over for dinner. If you guys decline she’s going to make me drag you over there with an ax.”

Megan smiled and spoke, “If it’s her lasagna, I’m there.”

“Oh! Her lasagna! Megan, were you even thinking straight when you broke up with Dave and didn’t at least stay friends with him these past seven years!” Anna exclaimed.

Megan, still upholding a smile on her face, playfully rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I can assure you it won’t happen anytime soon.”

“She’s definitely making lasagna,” Lisa interjected. “Dave also called me to tell me to make sure you call him once you get to my place.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do it. He was kind of bummed that I denied his hundredth invitation to Europe with them.”

“Oh no, poor Megan. To go to lousy Virginia to be with her best friend or to go to Europe for a week and a half with her rockstar boyfriend. Boo-hoo,” Anna faked sobbed.

Lisa chuckled as she continued down the road and Megan reached to the back seat to shove Anna’s shoulder farther into the seat.

“Shut up!” Megan exclaimed, not so easily hiding her laughter. Falling back into her seat she sighed, “I just didn’t want to go. They’re constantly moving around and it drains me. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s definitely not my favorite thing to do.”

“Yeah, but don’t you miss him? You guys have been back together for three months now, but how many of those days have you actually seen him? I mean, it’s a total bummer. You let him come and go for his job, but then he asks you to go with him and you say no. Then you mope around for those few days or you read twenty books in a week when you can just go with him. You’ve been stuck in your office for five years and this is the first time you’ve actually taken more than two days off. Dave finally got you to live a little!” Anna preached loudly in the back seat and Lisa nodded her head vigorously.

She let out a very enthusiastic, “Yes! I didn’t even know you’re life was so miserable, even with that jerk!”

Megan glared at Lisa with her arms crossed to her chest. It was a warning glare, not much intimidation in it. She just didn’t want to think of Andrew, especially while being in Virginia. She hadn’t heard of Andrew since the infamous night at The Whiskey and she has no idea where he could be. It was weird how he suddenly disappeared, without an explanation, but he just did. And Megan certainly liked it that way.

“Sorry to bring him up, but it’s true,” Lisa shrugged, an apologetic smile on his face. “Next time Dave asks you to go with him, do it. He’s missed you so much after you left him, I swear, the kid was a lost puppy. I can understand why he begs you to go with him everywhere. He hardly ever asked Jennifer to go with the band anywhere, she kind of just tagged along.

“God Megan, I was with him those seven years and I can confirm that he use to ask me all the time if I saw you anywhere while you were still living here. I kid you not, he told me one day he was going to wait for you outside your apartment building. The guy was about to go on stalker mode for you, it was crazy.”

“Well, when you say that last part, it kind of just makes him sound creepy,” Megan chuckled. “But I guess you’re kinda right, but I still have a job. I can’t just leave when I want to and I know you guys are going to pull that Jack Kelley card and how he’ll let me do anything, but it’s still not totally cool to just get paid for doing nothing, not even show my face in the building.”

“The troubling life of a rockstar’s girlfriend,” Anna playfully sighed. Megan proceeded to give her another shove on the shoulder and laughter filled the car.

“Don’t kill each other, because we have finally arrived to my apartment. Excuse the mess, but I don’t usually have guests, so it’s not up to scale,” Lisa announced as she turned off the car and went to the back to unlock the trunk so Megan could take out her luggage.

“Oh Lisa, when I met you, you were still living with your mother,” Megan stated as they walked to Lisa front door, and luckily for Megan, she lived on the first floor.

Shoving the key into its proper slot, Lisa said, “Oh Megan, when I met you, you were planning to rent a studio just a few blocks away from my mother’s house. And when you did, my brother decided to mooch off of your tiled floor.”

“And now he wants her to mooch off of his diamond jacuzzi,” Anna announced, while following Megan into Lisa’s apartment that was spotless, unlike her previous description.

“Diamond jacuzzi, I like that one,” Lisa spoke to herself as she closed and locked the door behind her.

“He doesn’t even have a pool at his house,” Megan defended, “Well, yet. He wants to put one in, but he was thinking to wait until after the tour.”

“Don’t forget to call him before he has a fucking fit,” Lisa advised as she picked up Megan’s luggage, “I’ll take this to where you’ll be staying while you do that. By the way, it’s the room on the right, it has it’s own bathroom.”

Megan nodded as she approached the phone that sat next to the sofa. Before she could even pick the phone up from the receiver, the phone started to aggressively ring and Lisa yelled from the other room, telling her to go ahead and answer. She was sure it was Dave.

Picking up the phone and pressing it to her ear, before she could even open her mouth to speak, she heard Dave’s voice say, “Hello?”

“Have you been waiting by the phone this whole time?” Megan jokingly asked.

“I’d be a sinner if I denied the truth,” he answer, a small chuckle following after. “Good flight?”

“Yeah, it was fine. How are things going over there?” Megan asked.

“Oh, everything fine. California sun treating us ju-uuust right,” she immediately sensed a tone of uncertainty in his voice. As though his reply didn’t match his tone.

“Are you sure everything’s fine? You sound… off?” Megan commented, though hoping his answer would hold no bad news.

“Megan, nothing’s wrong, I promise. Go have fun with Lisa and Anna, I’ll call you when I land tomorrow. I don’t know how the time difference is going to work out, but we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about a thing,” he assured her and found a sense of peace in tone this time and his reply.

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to you later,” she said before hanging up the phone.

Though, being skeptical at first, she was sure there was no reason for her to be worried about anything going on back home. Everything was in order and dealt with. Dave was leaving to Europe early in the morning and Megan was going back to her old job tomorrow to see Mark after two years of being a complete ghost.

To Megan’s greatest surprise, it was the first time in forever, that she was able to finally feel in control of her life. She finally got to realize all the greatest thing she had accomplished so long ago. She finally gave herself that firm pat on the back that no one ever really imprinted onto her. She worked hard and she deserved to enjoy a few days off with Dave in another state or country. She knew she did.

*

“What’s the point in doing all of this?” asked Margaret, uttering her first frustrating words since leaving Megan’s office with Dave and Taylor.

They were standing in Megan’s kitchen, Dave putting the phone back onto the receiver after speaking to Megan. Dave’s suspicions were heightening quickly and he was convinced that binge watching The X-Files for so many years caused him to grow great paranoia when a note, as subtle as the one resting in Megan’s drawer, caused him to investigate in the few hours that he was able to. And still, thinking of the note gave him unwavering goosebumps in the back of his neck. He didn’t know what was in that drawer and he didn’t know why it was so important that someone, who they can’t put a name or face to, would pick Megan’s lock and take it.

Dave let his eyes scan the familiar surrounding in being in Megan’s home. The familiar scent of her vanilla perfume and her lavender candles that blended well together just below his nose. They stood quiet, allowing Dave to collect his scrabbling thoughts. He still couldn’t find the proper words to express his shaking nerves.

Dave didn’t know where to start with what he felt like he knew because, truth be told, Dave knew nothing. All he could “prove” to them was that Megan was hiding something in that drawer - which at this point, cannot be argued because a mysterious being left behind a note telling them that he/she took whatever was molding up in there - and that she suspiciously brought up how she wasn’t happy when she first heard the news that he was engaged to Jennifer. While furiously driving to Megan’s house from her office, Dave concluded that the time had to be between 1992 or 1993, no later than that.

He didn’t want to think Megan was lying to him, and he certainly didn’t want to prove to the many people who loved both of them - which was too much of a long list for Dave to think of - that Megan was simmering up something behind his back. He didn’t want to be right in a situation like this, but he certainly didn’t want to be played a fool while everyone sat in the front row. He held his head too high for that.

Though truthfully, he hoped she held a good explanation for making him feel like a dog chasing its own tail. He didn’t want their second round into a relationship to be the troubling one. He wanted to feel a sense of nostalgic happiness when he was with her, although him and nostalgia aren’t the two greatest pals. He just wanted 1989 back. He would trade every single day since their last day together back, just so he wouldn’t have continuously made mistake after mistake once she left. But knowing the way Megan is always right about any given situation, even the ones where an emotional scar can be imprinted on for years, her and Dave knew that his most important decision was to stay in Nirvana. He knows he wouldn’t have traded that in.

It’s just not fair. No secrets would be hidden from us and no weird notes would be laying around in random places. Where the fuck did we go wrong?

Dave began to seriously question his actions and mistakes when he first decided to dive back into Megan’s life so quickly and so confidently. Maybe he should have waited longer, let the tour go on for a while longer and taken it all in slow strides.

But his heart surely got the best of him, like it always did. It was just the thought of just seeing Megan again caused his stomach to do flips that he could do with his own two feet, and being able to see Megan with his own two eyes without Andrew babbling on about ridiculous stories just to make his jealous. He felt like he could be on top of the world again, the exact same feeling when he was just twenty and twenty-one. He remembered when he felt unstoppable because he found the most encouraging and beautiful missing link to his life and he finally got her back. He finally got his second try.

But that’s why Dave’s relationship with nostalgia is a rocking ship riding through torrential waves. He broke his heart everytime he thought of those days when he would wake up as the most optimistic drummer in the world. He didn’t feel like anyone or anything could ever stop him from living his dream. It just slowly came crashing down as the years went by and when Kurt died, he thought it was an impossible castle of confidence to rebuilt.

Sometimes, he could still hear Megan telling him the words that broke his heart. Just standing in her kitchen makes it feel like she could say them all over again.

His eyes haven’t stop wandering to random visible parts of her small house that he was standing in, thinking of riding them both of this house. He knew it wasn’t going to be done anytime soon, not as long as he was back and forth between L.A. and the rest of the world, but within a year he hoped he wouldn’t have to be standing in the very spot he was in.

Dave was able to spot the white cardboard box lazily thrown onto the ground, most probably untouched and completely forgotten, and his regrets of even telling her they existed were washing over him greatly. She probably didn’t see much importance in them like Dave did, but maybe that’s because she never opened at least one of them. He never seemed to ask her if she did or not.

Without words being exchanged within in the trio, Margaret followed Dave’s gaze that was still situated on the box and looked over to Taylor with a questionable stare. He only shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to be the first one to speak in what felt like hours or explain what the box contains.

“What’s in the box?” Margaret finally broke the silence that was nagging at her head as they stood in the same place since they arrived.

Dave cleared his throat, and threw his shoulders back, hoping to feel a shudder of confidence roll over him, but nothing. He was still feeling hopelessly vulnerable and he didn’t know a thing that could fix it; only the missing truth.

“I wrote her a bunch of letters when I was still married, I just never sent them to her. They just laid around my house when I lived in Seattle.”

“Those are the letters?” Margaret surprisingly asked, “Can I read them? If you wrote about Andrew, I can probably piece some things together for you if you are so keen on thinking Megan is hiding something from you. Though it’s not my place to even tell you what it is, I can feel you sweating from here just thinking about it.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, almost in shock that Margaret would actually be on his side on this. Although Dave would tell you there are no sides, he just couldn’t register the fact that Margaret was willing to help him figure out something that they had no real leads had him feeling he was already a step closer to answering his own questions.

Dave is sure Megan has told Margaret everything there is to know between her and Dave and her and Andrew. Margaret is like a walking encyclopedia of Megan’s life.

“Wait, is that even a good idea? If you do find something out and Megan knows you told us what it was, that’s going to strain some things. Are you sure you want to possibly get fired from your job just to help Dave’s random phase of paranoia?” Taylor asked, a single, lanky hand on his hip. Taylor shrugged at Dave, who was giving him a glare of annoyance and anger, “You gotta be fair here, man. You’re going to be fucking yourself over if you start hammering down what you find out about Megan - if there’s even anything that needs to be figured out - and you’re going to fuck Margaret over just because you’re totally selfish. Then, I’m going to get fucked over because she’ll be pointing fingers at me and I don’t even want to be in this mess.”

Dave rolled his eyes and although his clueless friend had a sincere point, his selfishness only bubbled in him more, but he still wasn’t going to let his knowing guard down so easily. He knew there was something there and he wasn’t sure where he had to keep looking to find it. But he was confident he was.

Dave looked over at Margaret, who was fiddling with the hem of her shirt and avoiding eye contact with the two men in the room. She was probably feeling the same way Dave was feeling. Tied to Taylor’s words.

“I can’t tell you what I know, Dave. I don’t know what Megan had hidden in that drawer. I knew nothing about that, but what I know now about anything that happened in the past seven years, I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you because Megan is my best friend, but more importantly, she’s also my boss. I won’t risk my friendship or my job to help you fulfill this nasty picture of Megan you painted,” Margaret spoke out to the silent home and Dave felt goosebumps rise in his neck and spine. “Please take me home. Don’t tell Megan I was ever with you guys today and don’t try and get in contact with me while you’re in Europe if you’re only interested in knowing my knowledge of anything.”

Dave only nodded his head as he registered Margaret’s words that fell so bitterly from her tongue. He aimed his eyes towards the floor, unsettling chills rising and falling all around him - all around the room.

What I know now about anything that happened in the past seven years, I can’t tell you.

It rang in his ears, and it vibrated throughout his body, and it hung in the air right above his head, and it clutched tightly to him as he dropped off Margaret back at the office, and it stung at his throat as he laid in bed for hours after arriving back to his house.

Just as he suspected, there was truth into what he was believing, but he was yet to solve the missing piece of the puzzle. Margaret didn’t even let another word fall from her mouth through the entire car ride and she stepped out of the car without even giving him a glance. Asking Margaret, even begging her, would only be a waste of time. She wasn’t going to do a thing to help Dave, and she had a fair point.

He couldn’t ask Taylor, because Dave knew Taylor was the last person who wanted to get lassoed into Dave’s personal situation. He had to stop making a habit into attempting to create an army against something that could potentially be nonexistent.

So, he busied himself. He cleaned his house, although much cleaning wasn’t needed to be done. He rearranged furniture in the living room, disposed of all molded/expired food from the refrigerator, put up the new shower curtains he had been meaning to do for months. He even organized his shoes by pairs in his clothes, which is very unlike for Dave, but he was willing to do anything just to not let his mind wander off to the malicious painting he made of Megan. Now it was just torturing him.

Dave decided a shower. A quick, simple shower to wash away all the bad things. Cleanse his mind, body and soul from a simple morning with Megan to a dark evening gone bad. He didn’t even want to think about confronting Megan. He wasn’t even sure if a quick goodnight call was in toll. He just felt too shaken to do anything.

Turning on the hot water in the shower, he stripped down from his clothing. Starting with his shirt, down to his jeans. Throwing his jeans onto his shirt that was already on the ground, a post it not fluttered out from one of the pockets.

It was the note found in Megan’s office. Unfolding it, to re-read the cryptic note, it only sent another set of chills down his spine. He couldn’t think of anyone who could be so eerie, so dark and so cruel to even leave the slightest hint of their presence in Megan’s office. He couldn’t think of anyone who was in need of getting their hands on whatever was in that office.

Angrily stuffing it back into his pants, carelessly flinging them back onto the floor, he stepped into the shower. He let the hot water fall onto every inch of his body, as he stood directly under it. The heated water felt good on his skin, he wanted it to burn all the bad thoughts away. He wanted to sleep good tonight. He wanted to start off the European leg of the tour on a good note. He didn’t want to start feeling angry and bitter over an invisible phenomena.  

After lathering himself with his heavy scented soap, shampooing his hair aggressively and thinking of every questionable scenario with Megan since they reunited, he decided to leave today where it left off. He was going to pick up when he got back from his tour. He was going to forget today, forget his doubts, and do everything in his power to not let a cynical note ruin his relationship and his tour.

Wrapping a warm towel around his waist, he walked out of the steam filled bathroom and selected a pair of underwear from his grand selection. Stepping into them and lazily letting his towel sit on the floor, not caring if it’ll not smell pleasant the next day, he walked over to his bed.

The safest place a person can feel happiness in. Slip into their cozy nook, let their thoughts fly away just by resting their head on their favorite pillow. Even alone, a bed is where someone can end a bad day, in a relaxed way. Dave was mostly looking forward to that feeling after his shower.

But that ended all too quickly for Dave when another post it note, very similar to the one he discovered in Megan’s office, was resting on his bed, covering something that sat underneath it. Before he even leaned in closer to even get a peek at the lightly written words, he stormed over to his closet and put on any pair of pants and any shirt.

Hurriedly running downstairs, in his dark house, he went into the kitchen and quickly retrieved his broom that sat next to his fridge. He began to quietly walk out into the living room. He left all the lights off, hoping whoever the mysterious intruder was didn’t leave so soon. He looked behind sofas and chairs, under tables and inside kitchen cabinets - nothing. He checked the downstair guestroom and no one had been their since his mother last visited.

Maybe outside, Dave thought to himself and he tiptoed out through the side door. He didn’t know if he should start from the back and make his way to the front, not knowing if the intruder came in by foot or car, but he decided to head to the front of the house anyways.

Stepping over tall grass and small tree branches, he saw no car, other than his own, parked in the driveway. He walked out by the sidewalk, no sign of any car being driven up and down the nearly isolated street.

Deciding to skip the backyard, knowing it would be impossible to even enter or escape from the high fences, Dave went back inside and securely locked the door with all locks possible on the door.

Still being as quiet as possible, he ran up the stairs two steps at a time and decided to check the remainder upstairs guest room, but no sign of anyone entering was their - not even the bathroom. The entire house sat vacant, with only a frantic Dave standing in it.

With his sweaty palms and shaking knees, he made sure every single door was locked and made sure the security system was on and running, just like it was when he was in the shower, or he thought it was.

Deciding that the intruder escaped, he unclutched the broom and let it lean on his nightstand - for safety reasons - and let himself face whatever was mocking him that lay on his “untouched” bed.

Picking it by the tip of his fingers, his shaking grip, the post-it read, Keep your friends closer and your enemies even closer.

Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and his jaw clenched so tightly, his teeth were digging so deeply into his tongue. But he knew it wasn’t over. He noticed the post-it was covering a small polaroid picture. He peeled the paper off and revealed the photo.

It was Dave and Andrew, facing each other, Dave’s arms hanging loosely from his hips, possibly bored and tired of the words Andrew was spewing onto him. Andrew was plastered with an eager smile on his face, towering over Dave by a few inches and his muscular built. Dave believed it was circa 1993, during Nirvana’s In Utero tour. Under it, scribbled with the same writing on both post-its, read: Know your enemies. Signed, X

Then it all made sense to Dave. Andrew decided to keep a low profile until now, because it was Andrew, and Andrew needed to get what was inside Megan’s desk.

[exhausted-inthe90s]

Dave Grohl-Fanfic-Chapter37

This is it, I’m back on the run! please let me know, feedback and like it if you want to see more?

After being in Portugal for almost two months, I felt a little calmer.  I was starting to become myself again, I noticed a change in Tasha too, she smiled more and she laughed again, I saw her dimple more often.  Her sisters came out to visit us and we spent all out time eating out and lounging on the beach.  Tasha felt at home and in a way so did I.  Everybody here was so amazingly kind and wonderful, they went out of their way to do anything for anybody.  They all looked out for each other here. It was a real sense of community. Something that always lacked back home. I was often on the phone back home to mom, keeping her up to date.  She became more worried for me when she heard.  Music was still incredibly hard to be a part of.  Pat had declared he was out of the whole industry and Krist’s alcohol problem got worse.  

But I was being able to be around it more.  Tasha and I had decided we would fly back home this weekend,  I had something in mind, it was there for a while now,  just there.  I hadn’t yet spoken about it with Tasha.  But I wanted too.  I had everything I needed.  I was just going to fucking do it.  Otherwise it would be too late and I would lose the opportunity to go back to being me.

“Tash” I called from the bedroom, she had just finished washing her hair, and she walked in scrunching it with her towel, she smiled at me and looked calm.  Refreshed.

“Sit down, I want to talk to you” sitting on the bed her eyebrows were furrowed.

“I’ve been doing things since we have been here, and it’s made me feel good... When we get back to Seattle, I’m going to call up Barrett” I said getting up I walked over to a drawer and pulled out a notebook.  She opened it and starting reading through.  It was all these songs I had written, over the past months we had been here. Some I was really proud of.  I felt like I was slowly accomplishing something of my own.  There were some old ones, I had written before, like I’ll Stick Around and Exhausted, one of Kurt’s favorite. 

A smile beamed across her face and she looked up, her eyes were watering and she jumped on top of me giving me this warming hug.

“I’m so proud of you, these are fucking amazing! Fuck! I love you” She cried in my ear.

I rubbed her back and felt a smile come across me, to know I had her by my side throughout this made me so fucking happy, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to have as my supporter.

“Oh Tash, I love you too” I said as I felt my eyes become watery. She then sat up and looked at me.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?  It’s a big step, you have to be comfortable with yourself to be ready for this, it’s a big jump.  I’m confident in you that you know what you’re doing”   She said as she took my hand holding it tightly.

“Yeah, I’m sure, I want to do this, I want to do it for him” I said, as I remembered I felt like there was a lump in my throat, I tried to swallow it but it didn’t work and the tears came rolling down, she looked at me and instantly too started to cry.  It was the reminder of Kurt I had brought upon myself. Once more we were in the arms of each other trying to calm one another, she rubbed my back and told me it was going to be okay,

“You can do this Dave, I know you can, please don’t cry.  I love you so much and it breaks my heart to see you like this, c’mon lets go grab a beer and sit on the beach for a bit” She said getting up ad taking my hand leading me into the kitchen.  Rolling a tissue around her finger-tip she lightly pressed at my face, taking away the tears.  She then looked at me pursing her lips, I put my hand along her cheek, kissing her I felt her warmth.  She hummed against my lips and parted her lips slightly to allow entrance of my tongue. I danced around with hers and she lay her hands around my waist.  Moving them slowly up and inside my top.  Bringing it up she removed my top and unbuttoned my jeans.  I was left in just my underwear and I picked her up and brought her to the bed, unravelling her towel I layed her down on the bed and passed my hand along her body and felt goose bumps arise from her skin.  Our kisses became hungrier, biting on her lip I moved to kiss down her jaw and along her neck, sliding down I elicited her with kisses all down her body until I arrived at her opening, having a grip on her thighs, I swirled my tongue around and her head rolled back and a moan escaped her lips.  Making firmer movement with my tongue her body tensed further and her moans became louder until she came, I moved further up to kiss her with her taste on my lips. Soon enough I had entered her and grinded my hips into her, She screamed and tugged on my hair.  I held the bed frame to support the rocky ride we had embarked on.  

“Fuck” I grunted as I made large fast pumps into her, she came again this time screaming,

“Dave!” She yelled into my ear.  

I made my final pumps, crashing into her before I came and slammed my lips into her as I collapsed onto the bed beside her.

It had been a while since we had intimacy like that.  Since everything had happened, it had become a little quiet in the bedroom.  Here and there a kiss but nothing as passionate as that. I had been one of the first times in a long time I was able to feel her body like that.  I missed it.  I had craved it.  

“That felt great” she said relieving a sigh.

Looking at her with a smirk she questioned me, I jumped over her and crashed my lips into her starting what we had just finished all over again

[gimmestitches-fanfic]

Chapter 1

Hello, I'm new in this fanfiction world. Anyway, sorry for my english. I hope you like it! 

February 16, 1998

I waspathetic, crying the whole night because a man it’s pathetic. He knew my weakness, he knew everything tomake fall apart. The sun that enters through the window, the sound of car andpeople talking and laughing wasn’t a good way to wake up, I opened my eyes andI felt a wave of emotions. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry my eyes out, and I wanted to kill him.

It was already 10 AM, I need to leave my bed, I had things to do. I need a shower, a coffee or maybe a bottle of whiskey. Walk to the bathroom, open the shower, and undress yourself. I look myself in the mirror; puffy eyes, hair in a ponytail, dry lips, and a sad look. What a shitty day.

2 hours later I was making myself a coffee, trying to keep myself busy. I needed to know the dates of the new tour, I wanted to buy a new guitar, maybe a new heart brain too. The phone starts to ring, groaning I walk to answer it. Michelle’s voice sounds way too happy.

"Hello, my sweet and beautiful Elizabeth. How are you?"

"I feel like a fucking black hole." I say, sitting on the kitchen floor.

"Let me guess, the bastard." Michelle, you're so smart.

"I'm pathetic, really. No, I'm not pathetic, I'm stupid. He treats me like a piece of shit and I forgive him. I feel so shitty." I say to her, feeling my eyes watering

"Lizzie, you're in love with an asshole. You need to break up with him. C'mon, you're a strong woman, you're independent and smart. He's garbage."

"You said it, Michie. I'm in love." Yes, Elizabeth, try yo believe your own words. Keep fooling yourself saying that you love him.

"Well, don’t be in love with him no more.” She says to me in his bossy voice. "Do you want me to go to your house?"

"Please, and bring a bottle of the stronger thing that you have."

"It's so nice to start the day drinking." She says, laughing.

"Be quickly, please" I hung up the phone, standing up I look for a paper tissue.

"Fuck you, Jessie." I said to myself.

30 minutes later, Michelle with a bottle of whiskey and bottle of tequila was standing on my door. At the minute she sees me, she runs to give me a hug. "Fucking asshole" She says into my ear.

 When we lived together, drinking because of broken hearts was almost a ritual. When Michelle broke up with his first boyfriend, Brad, she decided that the only way to forget about stupid boys was drinking. At the moment I decided that was a horrible idea. Today, 2 years later, drink is the only thing that I want to do.

"What happened?" She says while sitting on the kitchen floor, like the old days. In her left hand the whiskey bottle. Making a disgusted face because of the tequila, I start to talk.

"I called him yesterday, everything was fine. His band was fine, the shows were amazing, the guys were in a amazing mood. I started to talk about my birthday, that I needed to be with him. He started to yell at me, that I was a little girl, that I don't understand him, that I'm a petulant girl who can't stand not having everything that she wants, that he's fucking tired of me. I said to him that it's always the same with him. And then he told me that maybe it's time to give us a break." I say to her, crying.

She starts to laugh. "Finally you're fucking free."

"Michelle, don't fucking laugh at my misery."

"Elizabeth, the only good thing that this asshole has ever done it's saying that you two need a break." She holds my hand and look directed to my eyes. "You don't need him, please Lizzie, I'm serious."

"It's not that easy, he told that he need a break and the only thing that I do is hang up the phone. I have the perfect opportunity to make him feel like a piece of shit, and what I do? Nothing." Taking the bottle of whiskey off her hand, I say to hear. "I don't want to break up with him, but at the same time I wanna see him on the floor, crying because of me."

"Fuck Jessie, fuck you relationship with him. Say it."

"I don't want to say it. Breaking up is a process."

"Oh my God, don't be pathetic. Say it. Say it out loud: 'fuck you, Jessie Phoenix', fucking say it."

"Fuck you, Jessie Phoenix." I say it in whisper.

"I can't hear it."

"Fuck you, Jessie Phoenix." I say screaming. "Fuck you for making me cry, I'm going to make you regret for making me feel like a stupid girl."

"Fuck you, Jessie." Giving me the bottle of whiskey again. "Drink it, it's going to be day."

At 5PM we were completely drunk. Michelle was laughing her ass off and I was mix between laughs and sobs.

"I wanna call him." I say, trying to stand up. "Michelle, give me the phone."

Between Michelle's screams and my sobs, I start to phone his number.

Trying to keep Michelle quiet by putting a hand on her mouth, a voice answers the phone.

"Hello?" The voice of a guy comes through the phone.

Putting my best sober voice, I start to speak. “Yes, hi Dan. It's Lizzy. Can you tell Jessie that I need to speak with him?"

"Uhm, he's not here, actually." He says, sounding nervous. Danny is the drummer of the Bad Vibes, the band of Jessie. He's a nice guy and a really bad liar.

"C'mon, Danny, I know he's in there. Don't lie to me." Feeling angry, I start to sober up. Michelle was quietly sitting on the kitchen stool.

After a couple of minutes, the voice of the bastard comes through the phone.

"Lizzie." He says sounding tired.

"You're a fucking liar. You make other people lie for you. That isn't very nice of you."

"What do you what?"

"I don't like when you use that tone."

"Listen, I'm tired and I have to go to sound checking..."

"Oh, don't worry this is going to be quickly. First of all, I'm so happy to know that you have things to do. Is so nice to know that fucking girls isn't the only thing you do on tour."

He makes that sound, that weird breathing thing that he does when he knows that he's fucked up.

"Do you really think that I didn't know? I thought you were a smarter man, I was wrong, shame on me."

"Elizabeth..."

"Elizabeth, my fucking balls. You're a son of a bitch, always treating me like a I'm this little girl. This fucking little girl wrote at least 10 songs of your last album. You're nothing compared with me. And the funny thing is that you still think that you're better than me. You’re nothing more than a mistake. Maybe we don't need a break. Maybe what we need it's to break up. No, wait, that's what I'm doing. I waisted almost 2 years of my life being by your side. Always being a nice girls, trying to be a everything that you wanted. I'm fucking tired of you, you like to feel that you have a power over me. But that's the thing, you don't have it. Fuck you, and I hope no other girl decides to be with you, you're a misogynist and a sexist pig. Rot in hell."

Hanging up the phone I start breathing again, I look to Michelle and her mouth was wide open. "I'm so proud of you." She hugs me. "It's so nice to see the old Lizzie again."

This morning I was so heartbroken, because it wasn't just the fact that he was my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, is the fact that he treats me so badly when I was such a good person with him. I don't need him. I don't need another asshole in my life. I don’t need more people treating me like shit. 

We sit on the kitchen floor again, she was rubbing me head. "Lizzie Dizzy, don't be a fool, you're a so nice; don't let anyone broke your little heart" She sings to me in her happy voice.

At 7 PM after Michelle tryng to cheer me up telling about this guy that's 'so fucking good looking' we decided to buy a pizza.

"I’m so fucking hungry. I'm going to buy some beer, and maybe some ice cream." She says while looking for her purse.

"Do you need money?" I said, putting the phone down on the table.

"No, it's okay."

While cleaning the plates of yesterday's dinner, I start to think, I’m turning 19, and I feel like 30 years old who is divorced and don’t know what to do with her life. Why I fall in love with that kind of guys? It’s always the same; I fall in love with a guy, he seems like a nice person, who loves me, who really wants to be with him. I try to help them with money, company, everthing that he wants. He starts to treat me like I’m some kind of monster. I let them treat me like that. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe this amazing women who is so sure of herself is just a face, maybe I'm this weak little girl who really is lost. My sister always told me “a guy can’t make you feel better just because they love you. You need you love yourself before falling in love.” She never liked Jessie, she never liked the person that I was when he was around. My brother hates him. Now the three Lisbon kids hates Jessie Phoenix.

The doorbell rings, making me jump. Grabbing the money from the little table in front of the TV, I open the door in a fast move.

"Hi." I say to the greasy teenager who is staring at me with his eyes wide open.

"Oh my god...you're...Powder...Jesus." His hand was shaking, making the box with the pizza inside move too.

"Yep, that's me." Try to stay cool, Elizabeth. This is okay, this something totally normal. Handing him 20 bucks, he wakes up.

"Yeah...the pizza, I'm a big fan...can you give me your autograph? I don't want to sound inappropriate..."

"Oh, no, it's okay. Sure, do you have a paper?" I enter the house again, looking for a pen. "What's your name, kid?" Kid, he must be 2 years younger than me.

"Ian...Ian..."

"To Ian, the guy who brings my pizza. Liz Lisbon." I put a happy face on the end of the sentence and I pass him the paper back. Giving me the pizza, I say goodbye and I close the door.

I start to laugh; 3 years ago this was something that not even in my wildest dreams happens. Our first record came out in an indie record company. A lots of underground bands said that it was amazing, full of angry and amazing riffs. The year was 1996. I was 17, a fucking teenager making a record with her band. We were living on New York, on this tiny apartment on Manhattan. 4 guys, 4 losers. Now this kid knows my name and says he loves us, how? 

The doorbell makes me jump, again.

[asensitivemess]

Chapter 70

“Hey!” Dave exclaims in quiet surprise as he peers up at you over the top of his glasses.  He looks comfy on the bed, the pillows stacked behind him, knees bent and your iPad propped up against his thighs.  You crawl onto the bed beside him and he stretches his legs out, takes his glasses off and puts them, along with the iPad, on the night table.  “I was beginning to wonder where you were.”

“Sorry.  We talked for nearly…” you glance at the clock and correct yourself, “for over two hours!  It didn’t seem like that long.”  You rest your head on his bare chest, wrap an arm around his middle and snuggle up by his side.  He smells like the Dove soap you keep in the shower.  “I like her so much.  I’m not sure I’ve ever had a friend who genuinely likes me in return.  But I apologize for spending so much time on the phone.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I thought you might need some girl talk.  You have more friends than you think you do.  Do you feel any better after your chat?”

“I do.  And I’m feeling that much more confident that I’m doing the right thing by going away.  It’s like I’m going on vacation from my life, such as it.”  You wrinkle your nose at the comparison between your situation here and the promise of what’s to come.  ”I get to leave all this shit behind and hide in your world for a little while.”   He kisses the top of your head.

“Well, I’ve begun preparations for your trip.”  He reaches for the iPad again and as you sit upright, he adjusts the pillows so that you’re sharing them.  “Arrangements have been made for someone to look after the house and car.  I am going to take care of the mortgage tomorrow.”

You look at him, eternally grateful for everything.  “I’d say ‘thank you’, but that hardly seems like enough.”  Smiling, he switches off the computer and aims his gaze at you.

“So do you know what you’re going to say to Annie tomorrow?”

“I think so.  I don’t know why so I’m nervous about it.  I’m glad you’re coming along.  Having living proof will make it easier to explain.  In a nutshell, I’m going to tell her that I apologize for the short and sudden notice, but…”

————— 

“…this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I pass it up.”

Annie, who has remained motionless with her coffee cup suspended in mid-air since you and Dave entered her office, blinks several times as the story you’ve just told sinks in.  Finally she looks from Dave to you and then back at Dave again.  “Would you mind if I have a word alone with Penny?” she asks him sweetly.

"Sure."  Slowly standing, he gives you a reassuring nod.  "I’ll wait for you in your office."  You feel his hand brush across the top of your shoulder as he starts out the door.

“Penny,” she sighs, setting her coffee cup on the desk.  “Are you sure you should be doing this?  Do you really think it is a good idea?”  She sounds exasperated, as if she’s talking to a naïve teenager who wants to get married when she’s seventeen.

“What do you mean?”  You have been working for Annie for many years and you never would have expected this kind of reaction from her.  She’s always been very kind and supportive as well as the best boss you could ever ask for.  She’s done a lot for you over the years and you’ve always worked hard, putting one hundred percent into your job to ensure that your area ran smoothly and was as prosperous as possible.  Her questions seem oddly singed with condescension.  Foolishly, you glance at the empty chair beside you, forgetting that Dave is no longer there to confirm whether or not this is just your imagination.

“Do you really think it wise to quit your job and go running off with some musician that you just met a couple of weeks ago?  What are you going to do when the fun is over?  Where will you go?  You’ll have to start over.”  She shakes her head in exasperation.  “I really thought you were smarter than this.”

Stunned and at a loss for words, you gape at her, unsure of how someone you love so much could suddenly become so cruel.

“I don’t understand,” you stammer.   “I thought you’d be happy for me.  I agree, this sounds too good to be true and far-fetched – believe me, I’ve been over that in my head a million times – but it’s not like I don’t have a plan.  This isn’t totally on a whim.”

“And what kind of plan have you come up with?”  Her expression is as doubtful and patronizing as the tone of her voice, angering you a little. 

 “Annie, I’m not asking you to hold my job.  I know you need someone in that position full time and Cate is more than capable of taking over at any minute if you need her to.  It wouldn’t take you a day to fill her spot in reception.  I’m leaving, whether you approve or not.  I want to do this.  I need to do this.”

“Well, then you’d better get going,” she snaps back.  “You can leave your key with Cate on your way out.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job opening to post.”  She immediately turns to her computer and begins to look busy.

Nailed to your seat, you continue to stare at your now former friend and boss.

"Annie, please.  Why are you acting this way?"

"You’ve made your decision," she answers coolly without looking up.  "We don’t have anything more to discuss."

Dumbfounded and eyes brimming with tears, you quickly follow the corridor back to the front office.

"Pen?"  Dave hops down from his perch atop Cate’s desk and rushes toward you the very instant he sees your face. 

Cate whips around in her chair, her giddy grin immediately dropping to a frown.  “What in the world has happened?!” 

Despite your blurred vision, you successfully wrestle the front door key from your key ring and force it into her hand as if touching it is causing you physical pain. 

"Give that to Annie, will you?"  The sobbing begins as you look over at your desk in the corner, spying a framed photo and a few personal items scattered around.   Clutching the frame to your chest with one hand, you wipe your eyes the best you can and begin collecting as many of your things as you can carry.

"Penny, what are you doing?  One of you please tell me what’s going on!  Dave?"

"I went in to give Annie my two weeks’ notice and she was furious.  She told me to leave right now," you blubber.   You feel Dave’s hand at the back of your neck.

"Any chance you could get her stuff together for her so I can get her out of here?" he calmly asks Cate over your shoulder.

"Of course!"  You’re grateful for her sympathetic and kind tone, as well as the fact that she’s not freaking out along with you and asking more questions.  "I can bring them by when I get off at 5:00."

"Thanks," he says softly.  "Let me help you carry some of this," he offers on the way to the door. You look back at Cate with watery eyes.  “Thank you.  I’ll see you later.”

"Definitely," she assures you as you follow Dave out to the car.

Without discussion, he opens the trunk, puts your belongings inside and then holds the passenger door open, signaling for you to get in.  The trip home is made in silence, with the exception of you having to remind him where he needs to turn to get back to the beach.  He drives ridiculously fast and normally your first impulse would be to tell him to be careful with your Camaro, but under the circumstances, the quicker you get home, the better.

—————

Before Dave can even put the car in park, you fly out the door and take off running toward the beach, stopping only when you realize you are knee deep in the ocean.  Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath as you wipe away the strands of hair stuck to your tear-stained cheeks.  After a good minute or two, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist. 

"Don’t let her do this to you.  You don’t need her."

"I just don’t understand!" you almost yell, whirling around to face him.  "I thought she was my friend!  I don’t have any idea what the hell is going on anymore!"

You let out an almost hysterical sigh and close your eyes and he takes you in his arms again, his chin resting on the top your head.   After a moment you feel his chest swell as he draws in a deep breath.   You can almost see the light bulb appear over his head as you look up at him.  “Come with me,” he orders after kissing you on the forehead and taking you by the hand.  Silently, you follow his lead.

Once inside, you follow him to the kitchen table.  “Sit,” he orders, pulling out one of the chairs as he passes by.  As you are in no mood to argue or ask questions, you have a seat and stare blindly at the table.  Seconds later Dave sets a bottle of Bad Penny in front of you and sits down in the other chair.  You take a long drink and finally look at him as he leans forward, resting both elbows on his knees and tucking his hair behind his ears.  “Let’s get out of here,” he says finally.

"And do what?" you answer flatly before taking another swig of beer.

"Let’s pack up everything you need or want for the next few months and go.  I have a place up the coast near Cape Hatteras.  We can stay there until it’s time to meet up with the band.  No one will know where we are so no one can bother us.  We can take your car."  His eyes light up with excitement.  "Let’s go.  Today.  Now."

You set your beer down, watching his face closely.  “You’re serious.”

"I am completely fucking serious.  I’ll help you pack.  Or not.  We can buy whatever you need when we get there.  Let’s just go."

"We can’t leave now.  Cate’s coming over this evening."  A little bit of giddiness washes over you as you realize what you seem to be agreeing to.

"Who cares?"

"I care.  Cate’s been the only person who’s been consistent through this mess!  And she was nice enough to offer to bring my things over."

"All right, then here’s what we’ll do.  We’ll spend today getting you ready, get a little extra rest, be here when Cate comes by and then hit the road."

"I like the idea of leaving when it’s dark.  I don’t want anyone to know we’re gone, not even Cate.  I’ll text her when we get there to let her know I’m okay, but I don’t want anyone to know where we are."

"That’s the whole idea.  It’ll just be us.  No Foos, no friends, no exes…"  He’s positively glowing with excitement at this point.  "I need to get you away from this place.  It isn’t good for you anymore."

"We’re really doing this?" you ask with a skeptical smile.

"We’re really doing this."

"Why do I feel like a teenager planning to run away with her forbidden rock star boyfriend in the middle of the night?"  When Annie had accused you of this, you felt belittled.  Now that Dave has taken the helm, it is a whole different ball game.  "What will we do if the band never takes off and the album doesn’t sell?  Live in my car?"

"Taylor might let us hole up in his garage.  Or we can always go live with my mom." 

You laugh heartily at this.  “Actually,” you tell him, mulling this over, “that still sounds superior to the insanity going on around here right now.”

"You got something against my mom?"  This gets another good laugh out of you and he looks pleased.  "I’m glad I can make you laugh.  You’re beautiful when you smile."

Blushing slightly, you finish off your beer and thoughtfully scan the kitchen and living area.  “I have no idea how to even begin packing.  I’m guessing most of the stuff in here can stay.  I mostly just need clothes, wouldn’t you say?”

"Clothing is optional and, in most cases, frowned upon.  Bring whatever you want or need to, but like I said before, we can buy you anything you forget or don’t have room for.  You okay with us taking your car?"

"Certainly!  She’s a gas hog, but I guess that’s not too big of a deal since we’re just going up the coast a little ways.  Will we just leave her there when it’s time to leave North Carolina?"

"She’ll have her own spot in the garage, safe and sound," he promises, shaking his head a little.  "I hope you love me at least as much as you love that car."

"You know I do," you say softly, leaving all jokes aside.  "At least I hope you know."

—————

It’s nearly 5:30 when the doorbell rings and you emerge from the walk-in bedroom closet at the sound. 

“I’ll get that,” Dave volunteers as he finishes folding a pair of your jeans and places them in the suitcase.  You peek over the top of the shoe boxes piled in your arms in time to see him shoot a wink in your direction before disappearing into the hallway.    

Placing the boxes on the bed, you remove the lid from the one containing your warm winter boots.  With fall on its way, these are definitely going with you.  Replacing the lid, you slide the box next to the suitcase and realize that it’s time to go out and speak to Cate.  You close the bedroom door behind you as you leave, smirking at your little secret that is in progress.

You emerge into the living room to find Dave talking to Cate and a very timid Andy.

“There you are,” Cate coos, coming over and putting an arm around your shoulder. 

“Look,” Dave says, pointing a finger at your unexpected guest.  “It’s Andy.”  Poor Andy looks mortified while Dave, true to character, looks at you with a highly amused, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.  Trying not to smile yourself, you fire a warning shot back at him.

“Hey, Andy.”  Regardless of the current circumstances, your insides turn to silly putty when he smiles shyly at you.  He has a great smile; it always seems to start in one corner of his mouth before spreading across his face, carrying all the way up to his eyes.  It was what had first attracted you to him and you’ve had a crush on him for so long that you are fairly certain that it will ever cease to have this effect on you.

“Hey.  Cate told me that you quit today.  I hope it was okay that I came by.  I just wanted to tell you that I’ll miss having you around the warehouse every day.”

“I’ll miss our chats,” you tell him, suddenly feeling terribly heartsick.  You notice that Dave and Cate have taken the hint and retreated to the deck.  They pretend not watch through the sliding glass door as you and Andy continue talking.  “I racked my brain every day to come up with some excuse to visit the warehouse so that I could see you, you know.”

“You did?  Really?”  He looks truly disbelieving.

“I have to know, Andy… what happened after that night you came over for dinner?  Did I do something wrong?  Or were you just not interested?  Because I thought we got on so well, but then you started avoiding me like the plague.”

“No, you didn’t do a thing wrong!  You did everything right, in fact.  And I…” he glances back at Dave and Cate to make sure they hadn’t returned to eavesdrop.  “I was very…”  He hesitates, again turning his face away a little and running a hand up the back of his head.  “I was very interested.  I just didn’t know what you seemed to see in me.  I felt sure I’d bore you to death and quite frankly… I didn’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s absolutely nothing boring about you!  If I thought you were boring I wouldn’t have followed you around like a puppy for so long.  You’re a talented writer, you make me laugh and you’re ridiculously adorable… you have such a great smile.”  Embarrassed, he turns beet red and looks straight down at his feet.  “I find the quiet, bookworm/writer-type very sexy and to be honest, I’m a little pissed off with you that you didn’t give me a try.”  His smile fades a little as he looks back up at you.  “Will I still get to read your articles before they’re published?”

“For sure, yeah.  I always enjoy hearing what you think before the rest of world tears them up.”

You step forward and give him a big hug.  “The girl that manages to land you one day will be a lucky one.”  As you kiss him gently on the cheek, you hear the door open and Dave quickly appears behind Andy, head cocked and eyebrows raised.

“Everything okay here?”  Andy quickly lets you go at the sound of Dave’s voice.

“We were just promising to keep in touch.  Penny is my best editor and critic and I need her to keep proofing my work for me before I turn it in for publishing.”

“Ah.  How nice.”  Dave is watching Andy closely and everyone can tell it’s making him terribly uncomfortable.

“I guess we really need to get going,” Cate interjects, breaking the tension and rescuing Andy from Dave’s overbearing stare.  “You two keep in touch.  We’ll go out for dinner and drinks one night soon.”

“Send me those articles,” you call after Andy.  He nods and smiles before following Cate outside.

Dave shuts the door behind them and turns to you, tucking his hair behind his ears before putting both hands on his hips.  “Do I really need to say ‘I told you so?’” he laughs. 

“You wear jealousy about as well as I do.”

“Fucking Andy,” you hear him sarcastically murmur as he follows you back to the bedroom.

[davegfanfic]

Chapter One Hundred Twenty Three

Your fingers twitch before you open the to your home; Rob was waiting inside for you, and you were still uncertain of what to tell him.

It had been a great day. You got to sing again, record again, write music again. You had missed seeing Nate and the lead guitar player, but honestly, that didn’t really matter to you.

You got to write music again with Dave, one of the best songwriters you knew. Other than Kurt of course.

Dave was magical in the studio; he knew everything there was to know about it. You barely knew anything about recording, you were just the artist. But Dave knew everything, he helped set up the booth and the microphones and used words like ‘condenser’ and ‘interfacer’ and you didn’t even really know what he was saying. Yet again, Dave found another thing to be great at.

It was kind of sexy.

You shake your head, and throw that thought of your mind. Dave was not supposed to be ‘sexy’. He was Dave, an old friend, an ex boyfriend. He was just the guy you were doing business with now. You were not going to let your old feelings for him cloud your judgement now.

Because Rob was amazing. He was unlike any boyfriend you ever had. He was supportive, and tender, and funny, and he didn’t care about your past. He forgave you all the time, and didn’t look into your mistakes. He really loved you, and you really loved him.

You weren’t going to let Dave make you forget all that.

Just because what you had with Dave was electric, passionate, everything you thought love was supposed to be…

“Fuck,” You say underneath your breath. You can’t keep thinking that is what’s normal. Sure, Dave brought you so much love and excitement but everytime you got with him, it just sent you spiraling down into the ground. Rob would never do that to you.

Now the only thing you had to do was tell him the truth of who exactly you were working with. Dave Grohl. The former love of your life.

You really hoped Rob would be able to handle that.

You push the door open, and try not to overthink as you kick your shoes off and head into the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.

You had just slung off your dirty t-shirt, when you hear him knock on the door. “Yeah?” You say.

Rob comes in, and you can’t help but notice the little look he gives you standing there in your bra and jeans.

You giggle, “Checking me out?”

He blushes, “I can’t help that you’re hot…”

Smirking at him, you make your way over to him and link your arms over his neck and give him a quick kiss. “Thanks.”

He smiles back. “Did you have a good time?”

You try not to look like you had something very important to tell him. “Oh, yeah.”

He puts his hands on your waist and slowly moves forwards, pushing you back to sit on the bed. “What exactly are you doing there?”

You blink a few times before coming up with an answer. “Oh, well, there’s this rock band there that just needs some help in the studio.” There, that wasn’t lying.

He grins. “That’s great! What’s the band? Are they cool? Would I know them?”

You wince slightly at all the questions. “Um, you wouldn’t know them. They’re alright, not really worth getting into though.”

He crinkles his forehead. “Oh, that’s too bad, I was hoping you would get to work with a more seasoned band.”

You shrug and give a small laugh. “I’m happy to be doing it at all.”

Rob smirks and leans into you giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I’m happy I could help.”

You feel his hand pressing against your stomach, and sliding up to the clasp of your bra. You give out a slight giggle. “Mr. Downey Jr, what do you think you’re doing?”

He smiles as he kisses your lips, “I want to show my beautiful girlfriend some attention”, and he pushes you down to the bed and hovers over top of you.

You giggle and resume kissing him, letting his hands wander around your body. You can feel him start to pent up his energy, and you give a slight groan that only furthers his excitement. He reaches down for you jeans, and you slide them off while he unfastens his own pants.

You shut your eyes and let him kiss your neck, running your fingers down his back. You let your mind wander, and lose yourself in your bliss.

He starts to moan in your ear, and just as you are about to really let him loose on you, theres a flicker inside your head.

Of a man with long dark hair and a wide smile.

You jolt out of it so quickly, you scare yourself and jostle Rob. He looks flustered and worried when you suddenly get a panic look on your face. “oh, I… forgot I have to call Courtney.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your neck. “Can’t it wait?”

You shake your head quickly and jump off the bed and pick up your clothes. “No…it’s, um, about Frances.”

You don’t look back at him as you hastily get out of the room. You were too afraid to look, because what if you saw Dave again?