Jason☹️ JASSSONNNN☹️☹️😭😭☹️ Jason.. Jassson.. Ja… Jaasson….jason… Jasoooonnn..

"There came when recording the album in New York that he (Lars Ulrich) though he was having heart palpitations. I'd tell him it's just stress. But at any given time in the morning, he'd come to my room at the hotel and say, "Hey man, can I sleep with you?" He though he was having a heart attack. He was afraid of sleeping alone. He'd crash on the couch but around mine, he'd wake me up by crawling into my bed. We'd sleep together. And we both sleep naked. - Naked? Kirk shrugged, "It's not a big issue. I've known the guy going on fourteen years. We're very open with each other."

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Well, hello friends! I was inspired by Kirk's words, so I made a whole animation based on them :D Yeah, I wouldn't say it's detailed, and it's partly done in a sketch style. But making this animation brought me pleasure, I hope no one will be mad at me for this! And I also love Mother Mother

OK SO UHH

‘04 (optional) JAMES HAS A BREAKDOWN/PANIC ATTACK IN FRONT OF READER CUZ HE DOESNT THINK HES ENOUGH FOR HER AND UHHH SHE COMFORTS HIM AND THEY FUCK IN LOTUS POSITION 😻😻😻Jaymz pov would be really cool but either way is fine :D

I’ve been thinking abt this all day while at work and omg 😭

I LOOOOVVVE PASSIONATE STUFF ITS SO BEAUTIFUL

Based this around the SKOM era

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 ²⁰⁰²

I sat at the edge of the bed in my hotel room, staring down through the floor to nowhere in particular. My chest was tight, squeezed by an invisible hand that tightened with each breath.

The world outside, claustrophobic. My own breathing echoed through my ears, jaded.

The documentary crew left a few hours ago. Their equipment was packed away, and their annoying chatter began to fade in my mind. They were here to capture the making of our new album, aka, the Metallica therapy session.

But what I felt was exposed, to be laid for everyone to see. The cameras never lie: they catch every bit of frustration, stumble, and every drink. Oh God, Oh fuck, the drinking.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the sweat on my palm. Everything was uncomfortable. My heart thumped as my thoughts scattered.

The rehab had helped, at least a little. I felt like such a fake. Like I wasn't enough for the band or the fans, especially her. For anyone.

She is my everything, my beautiful girl. But even rocks erode under constant waves. I knew that I was tugging her down, dragging a weight she didn't deserve to carry.

I heard the door of our suite open and close softly. Footsteps drew closer, but I still could not relieve myself from looking up. A tingling sensation on my skin told me she was there before I saw her. Then she knelt beside me; her eyes searched mine.

"James?" Her voice was soft, concerned. "What's going on, Honey?"

I swallowed hard, trying to find words. My throat was dry, my tongue felt thick. I shook my head. I couldn't talk. The tears started pouring, and I clenched my fists, trying to hold them back. But it was too much. The dam was broken and the words were falling out.

"I can't do this," I choked out. "I can't be what everyone wants me to be. I am a mess. I'm… I'm awful. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man."

Her eyes widened, and she reached to touch my arm, though I drew back, standing abruptly. The room spun. I gripped the back of the chair to steady myself. "I'm failing, at everything. The band, the album, rehab… you. I'm failing you."

"James, no…" She got to her feet, and again she reached out for me, but I stepped back again, shaking my head.

"I'm a fake," I said, yelling now. "Everyone believes I am this… this badass metal guy, but I am just some broken little boy. I can't take this. I can't take all of this!"

"James, please…" She took a step closer. I did not hear her. The blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurring with tears. I went down on my knees, clasping my head and trying to block out the noise in my head, the voices telling me what a piece of rubbish I was.

"I'm not enough!" I growled out, my voice cracking. "I'm not enough for anyone!"

She knelt down next to me with her arms wrapped around me. I pushed at her, but she grasped me tightly with all her might. "Shhh, James. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

Her words were trying to get to me, but I was drowning too deep to grab the hold of it. My body was wracked with sobs, and I couldn't smother them. I was shaking, my whole body trembling. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I'm so, so sorry."

"James, look at me," she said, her voice level and low. “Honey, look at me.” She gently took my chin in her hand, forcing me to meet her eye. "You are not a failure. You aren't worthless. You're human. You're allowed to struggle. And you are a good man."

I shook my head as the tears streamed down my face. "I'm not enough," I whispered. "I'll never be enough."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly. "You're more than enough. For me, for the band, for the everyone. You're more than enough, James. And it's okay to need help. It's okay to be vulnerable."

I collapsed against her, my head on her shoulder, the sobs coming harder now. She rocked me back and forth gently, stroking my hair. "It's okay, James. Let it out. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She held me close, whispering reassurances and rocking me back and forth like some child. "I love you," she said softly, "and I'm here."

The panic began to subside, the clench in my chest loosening. My breathing began to slow down, my sobs turning to whimpers. She was here, believing in me where I couldn't believe in myself.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered again, my voice hoarse.

"Don't be sorry, Honey," she said, pressing her lips on my forehead. "Just be here with me. Just breathe.”

I nodded, closing my eyes and letting her hold me. She looked down at me with a mix of compassion and tenderness in her eyes. Her voice came in low, "I want to distract you… make you feel better. You’ve been way too tense, James."

I turned my head, feeling my reluctance shower over me. "I don't think that would be such a good idea," I grumbled, scrubbing at the remaining squiggles of tears with the back of my hand.

The very last thing I wanted was to burden her, to drag her down into my darkness.

She tipped her head back onto its side, her eyes held mine. "What's there for me to do, James? What do you need?”

I fumbled for words as my mind was nothing but an incoherent jumble. "I… I don't know," I said awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

That wasn't the whole truth, though admitting what I really wanted was impossible. I looked away, twitching at my fingers nervously.

She saw right through me, curling her lips into a knowing smile. She reached out and brushed her fingers very lightly down my cheek. "You wanna have sex, don't you?" she asked, laughing softly.

I felt my face flushing, and I stuttered, "I… I mean…" My voice faded away. I couldn't stand the look in her eyes.

The truth is that it did cross my mind, a desperate reach for something or anything that would connect me to her.

She cupped my face in her hands, turning it gently so I had no choice but to look at her. "James, it's okay," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay to want to be comforted. There's nothing wrong with that."

I studied her face for any sense of pity or frustration, but there was only love. I let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I… I guess I do," I said barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to, honey.”

She shook her head, silencing me with a soft, gentle kiss on the lips. "I want to, James," she mumbled against my lips. "I want to be close to you. Help you feel better."

So I reached up, my hand trembling, and cupped her cheek, moving my lips to love hers.

Her fingers tangled in my hair as she pulled me closer. Her lips were exceedingly warm, they seemed to press into my bones.

Backward on the bed, her body covered mine, pinning me in, to the present.

For some time then, we lost ourselves. It wasn't about the physical act, it's about comfort, this woman who I loved more than life. Every touch, every kiss said she was right by my side.

We slid into movement, our bodies quickening to a pace both remembered and totally new. She shifted again, sitting in my lap with her legs around my sides, intertwined. The position pushed us closer, our bodies were pressed so intimately bare, our faces inches apart.

“You doing okay?” She whispered, hovering over my erection. The dark of the night bathed her beautiful face, the sapphire sky leaking in through the wonder and making her look that much more stunning.

Her breath on my lips, her heartbeat against my chest, it was the most intimate kind of position. “Yeah… I’m okay.”

I gently held her, staring into her eyes as she sank down onto me. Tho both of us groaned in unison, and she made sure to keep a good grip on my shoulders.

We began to move, our bodies finding a slow, gentle thrust. It wasn't about getting somewhere fast, it was about connection, feeling each other fully. Every movement was done with forethought, every touch meaningful.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers threading through my delicate hairs on my nape as I held her close, my hands on her back. I could feel her forehead against mine as we sat like that.

"James," she whispered lowly, a hundred different kinds of love in her voice. "You feel s-so good."

"You too," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "God, I love you so much.

She smiled, soft, radiant, and kissed me once more. "I love you t-too. So much."

It was the most intimate thing, the most loving experience I ever had. Every touch, every kiss, every single movement.

"Look at me," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine. "I want to see you."

I nodded, holding her gaze. "I'm here. I'm with you."

She smiled, shining her eyes with love at me. "Stay with me."

"I will," I vowed, choked with emotion. "Always."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice rough with emotion. "More than anything."

It wasn't about how fast I came, it was more about the feeling of every second.

"I'm close," she whispered, her voice trembling with her pleads. "James, I'm so close."

"Me, too," I rumbled, my own voice harsh with emotion. "God, you feel so good..."

She smiled again then, a beautiful, euphoric smile, and kissed me once more. "Stay with me," she whispered. "Cum with me."

"Always," I promised. "Always."

Finally, I twitched and stilled as she moaned her release. I held her so tight, bucking slightly as I came. I let out a rough breath, trying to catch up with myself as I felt her fill with my seed.

We lay that way, our bodies knotted, our hearts wrestling each other from inside our chests.

"Thank you," I whispered, burying my face in her warm neck, leaving kisses.

could you write a angst for Kirk Hammett? it can be anything I just need some hurt rn 🤞🏻😔

Promises

Kirk Hammett x Reader

warnings: angst, cheating, crying

word count: 1k

summary: Kirk made a promise that he failed to keep.

A/N: ofc bbg thanks so much for sending in a request. Sorry if it's shit I wrote it in an hour.

The ring on your finger suddenly felt heavy as you looked into his remorseful eyes, a stark contrast to the green ones boring into you from behind his boxer-clad body.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered so timidly, you thought you had imagined it over deafening screams of the roaring crowd outside.

Your nostrils flared, a red hot anger coursing through your veins at the abhorred sight, as well as an overwhelming urge to slap him across his pouting face. You knew you were crying; the look your boyfriend was giving you was proof enough.

“No.”

His face fell even more - if possible. Glistening lines on his face shined in the bright light of his dressing room, his frown deepening with worry. His bare chest rose and fell with vigour, an unsettling feeling set deep in his stomach; this was never meant to happen.

But as he stared at your watery eyes he knew what the outcome of this conversation was going to be. 

And still, he begged. He pleaded, “Please, I’m sorry.” He attempted to keep a steady voice, though he knew he failed. 

“No Kirk! I trusted you!” It was your turn to keep your voice steady, but with every word and every wince on his face, the more sadness took over you. 

Kirk came closer to you, the woman still lying naked on the couch tossed aside as he watched his soon-to-be-wed girlfriend back away from him as if he were a complete stranger. He knew he shouldn’t have done it - the moment she came onto him he knew he had made a mistake, and yet he carried on. 

“I’m sorry! She means nothing to me!” The woman behind him scoffed, contradicting his words. “I love you.” His voice died down to a whisper once again, and his hand reached out toward yours.

His fingers only managed to brush the tips of yours before you were ripping your hand away. “Stop fucking lying!” Your voice came out harsh and rushed in anger. “I can’t take this anymore, Kirk! The constant lying, partying, drinking, it’s just too much. And this has pushed me over the edge.” You were breathing heavily, eyes focusing on the ceiling light above you.

“Please! We can work through this, please don’t leave!” His pleading eyes met yours as you looked at him; his hair dishevelled and skin covered in a light layer of swear. Normally you’d think he’s beautiful like this, but you immediately shook those kinds of thoughts from your head. “You don’t need to do this!” 

“Stop making this so hard for me.” Your voice was almost a whimper, breathy, a beg for him to stop.

“You don’t have to leave, y/n.” He seemed to have caught his breath, a glimmer of hope lighting up in his eyes. “I love you.” He claimed once again.

“Stop lying to me!” You clenched your eyes together, refusing to look at him. You always knew this would be a possibility. For him to leave on tour and forget about you with someone else, but he always assured you it would never happen; that you were the only one he had eyes for. How foolish you were for believing him.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair. 

“I love you too.” You replied, turning on your side to face him, giving him a small peck on the corner of his mouth. 

His eyes lit up as he looked up at you, a cute boyish grin tugging at his lips and curly hair covering his eyes as he whispered against your lips, “Turn around, this is my favourite part.” You smiled at his childishness and wiggled back around on the couch just in time to catch Jack look through the pages of his manuscript.

You couldn’t focus, however, a nagging feeling in your stomach as you felt your boyfriend rub circles into your hip, “Kirk?” He hummed in response, “Promise me something?” You looked behind you to meet his eyes.

“Anything.”

You kept eye contact, “Promise me you won’t find anyone else when you leave.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I would never.” He let out a little chuckle, as if the thought amused him, “You actually worry about that?” He asks, turning serious once again. 

“I dunno, it’s just that I can’t exactly be with you and I’m sure you’ll be surrounded with pretty girls.” The insecurities come out to play as you explain to Kirk, the nagging feeling only becoming deeper as you speak. 

“You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

You felt numb. The thought alone made you nauseous, but the sight was an even worse feeling. “You promised.” The tears were leaving stains over your cheeks, a salty taste in your mouth every once in a while.

He didn’t have anything to say in response, so he just looked at the ground and nodded. I know.

“So why did you break it!?” You shouted, anger once again taking over. 

“I don’t know, y/n! I’m sorry.” He sobbed. You almost wanted to feel bad for him, but the rage you felt far overpowered your remorse. He didn’t deserve any of it.

Frustrated by the lack of answers, you ripped the silver ring off your finger and stomped towards him. He was still looking at the floor, but saw your shadow and lifted his head to meet your eyes. You picked up his hand and opened his palm flat. Kirk’s heart dropped in his chest as he felt the band being placed into his palm. 

Kirk’s eyes never left yours as he opened his mouth to beg once again, “W-wait y/n. Please, don’t leave me.” His voice was no longer loud, the hope of you staying dissipating rapidly as he watched you start to turn around before grabbing your arm.

“If I don’t leave now I’m just going to regret it later when this happens again.” You rip your arm out of his grip and leave, not looking back at his reaction. It would only hurt you more.

Triple baka :3

Jason boxer and his coach James part 1

I'll kiss you, watch it 💋

Look at him LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT HIM LOOK HOW HOT HE IS LOOK ME IN MY EUES AND TELL ME HOW HOT HE IS CUZ THEARS NO WAY HES NOT BITCH IM LITRALLY GOING TO SCREAM CRY THROW UP AND KICK MY FEET STOP CUZ HES SO AJJCJQJCWMNCMEMFMWMFMWMDN AHHHHHHH

Oh my god...Turn the Page is such an underrated Metallica song. I know it's a cover, but lord have mercy James' vocals on that song are so hot, I need him to sing it right next to my ear...in between his grunts and moans and- I MEAN-

Seriously though he sounds so fucking good on that song and it literally gets me so horny (Im kidding...obviously)(No Im not)

'98 James is so underrated in general...late 90s him was a whole other breed of man