Metallica one shots and headcannons

The Dandelion's Secret-(Jason Newsted one shot)

The field of flowers where we used to meet felt timeless, unchanged by the years. The tall grass, the wildflowers in every shade of yellow and purple, and the dandelions scattered across the ground gave it an almost magical quality. It was our place, a world just for us.

Y/N was always fascinated by the dandelions. I remember how she would carefully pick one, holding it delicately in her small hands, and blow on it gently. The seeds would scatter in the wind, floating off like tiny, floating wishes.

"You know the story about dandelions, right?" she asked me once, her bright eyes gleaming with curiosity.

I shook my head, intrigued.

"When you blow on them," she explained, "it's like making a wish. The seeds are supposed to carry your dreams away with the wind. But you can't tell anyone. If you do, your wish won't come true."

I watched her carefully as she blew on the dandelion, watching the seeds dance away in the breeze. It always seemed like she was wishing for something big, something important. But she never told me what.

"What are you wishing for?" I asked one day, unable to resist the question.

She smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I can't tell you," she said, looking down at the dandelion. "If I tell, it won't come true."

I didn't push. I just watched as the seeds floated into the wind, wondering if, somehow, her wish had anything to do with me. Maybe it did. Maybe I was part of the dream she was sending out into the world.

The day she told me she was moving, it felt like everything in my life had come to a screeching halt. We were sitting under our tree in the same field, surrounded by wildflowers and dandelions, when she gave me the news.

"I'm moving," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. I froze. "What do you mean, moving?" She looked down at the dandelions scattered around us, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of one of their fluffy stems. "My dad got a new job. We're leaving next week. We're moving far away."

"No. You can't leave," I said, panic rising in my chest. "You can't just go. We're best friends. You can't leave me."Her eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away quickly, trying to be strong. "I don't want to leave either," she whispered. "But I have to."There was nothing I could say. No words to fix this. I reached out to take her hand, holding it tightly in mine, trying to steady my racing heart. 

"Please don't go. I can't... I can't imagine life without you here."Her gaze softened, and I could see the pain in her eyes—the same ache I was feeling. She moved closer, and before I could say another word, she pulled me into a tight hug. I held her close, the scent of wildflowers and the warmth of her embrace filling the air between us. "I don't want you to go," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't know how I'll make it without you."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with tears in her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't want to leave either, Jason. But I'll never forget you. I promise.""I'll wait for you," I said, my voice cracking. "I'll wait, no matter how long it takes."She nodded, her eyes shimmering. Then, with trembling hands, she reached up and slipped the bracelet from her wrist.