"El problema de la atracción entre los humanos es que nunca se sabe si ésta será correspondida" - Hush Hush ▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️ Jameson AU Amo escribir a estos dos, así que ya saben, disfrutenlo. #1 en Jason Newsted : 07 de Enero de 2022 #4 en Jameson : 26 de Septiembre de 2022 #2 en Jameson : 04 de Noviembre de 2022 Empieza: 05 de Octubre de 2021 Termina: 25 de Febrero de 2022

Really dumb chats from four drunk guys.

"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.

Jason has always felt like an outsider. Filling the shoes of the recently passed Cliff Burton is no easy task, not to mention a seemingly unwelcome one, based on the reaction from Jason's new bandmates. James in particular is grieving his loss with alcohol and rage, a combination that leads to his violent night terrors. But when James's armour is cracked, it allows Jason to see the singer in a new light. Maybe there's more to him than Jason thought.

Sólo léelo.

-PAUSADA- Jason Newsted jamás ha sentido atracción hacia ninguna persona, pero todo cambia cuando conoce a James Hetfield, su profesor de matemáticas. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• INICIO: 7/4/2021 FINALIZACION: ¿?/¿?/¿? •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• No se aceptan copias, adaptaciones y/o traducciones de esta historia. Todos los derechos reservados ©️ Fanfic escrito por @sweetpuppet

Romper leyes naturales por mi imposibilidad de dejar de tener aquel hombre sólo para mi bien y juicio.

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.

A mi lado no había nadie, sólo una nota sobre la almohada: "So close, no matter how far..."

Quiere romperle. Quiere herirle. Quiere destrozarle, devorarlo hasta que solo él le reconozca. Quiere quebrar cada hueso, cada ápice de su alma, porque le ama.