I turned my head towards him slightly, my hair sweeping over the back of my neck. Our eyes were downcast, he was looking at our hands while I admired his lips. I turned my head again and he lifted his head to press his forehead against mine. Our breathing quickened, we both inched our faces up towards each other, as if daring the other to make the first move. Unlike any time we kissed before, there was no sense of fear, no sense of confusion within ourselves. Just us. Finally I tipped my head just enough to kiss him. Softly, eyes closed, filling our noses with the smell of each other, intertwining. KLARS FANFIC* March 1985; Ride the lightning tour.

"Burning lights blinded his eyes as the darkness within haunted his soul. The sharp smell of blood and alcohol trapped him. A hand reached down. He looked up, staring wild eyes flashing in his own. The redemption demanded a sacrifice... And So James Took The Fall." A Jameson fic. Set in 1989-1990, the damaged justice tour and so on.

A story in which Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder fall in love.

This is a collection of short or maybe a little long fanfics that I write when I get bored. It's mostly ships from different bands that I listen to. If you agree with some of these ships, feel free to message me any suggestions you might have for a fanfic plot. I hope you enjoy some of these.

Just a book of headcanons and oneshots for Metallica, the various ships for them, and antics of whichever member you request! I will write for any member, or ship, just ask ;)

James, Lars, Cliff, and Dave have a routine. It's a chaotic one for sure, but it's something to fall back on. When that routine is disrupted by Dave's sudden and intense infatuation with one of the fledgling band's new groupies, will they be able to survive it? And more importantly, will James be able to handle his own feelings towards the newcomer? ---- Groupie Jason AU. Jameson Endgame.

Even now as I walk these streets alone I can sense the fear of many people. But it's not fear of me. Many I can see are paranoid. They've heard of what I do. What I've done. It's not a fear of me exactly. I can see some of them frantically look around. I can feel their hearts beat as I move. I sense it. Even when I am something of the dark, I move in broad daylight. But if I didn't have the pendant of light around my neck and hidden under my shirt, I'd burn and become ash as if any other of my kind would. It's just another day. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Or so it would seem. As I walk, I'm suddenly grabbed by the hood of my black sweatshirt and yanked backwards off of my feet. The force of is a dead giveaway of who's grabbed me. The name rolls into mind and I immediately seeth with rage. James Alan Hetfield. The werewolf. Mangy fucking mutt.

Another Dave and Kurt fanfic. Sorry Krist.