Vic Gimmehead

Shock n' Roll baby! Hi, I'm Viola. My nickname is V ^^ Tiktok: Vic Gimmehead

[vicgimmehead]

INTRODUCTION.

MASTERLIST

Hi I mostly go by V, or Viola. You can also call me Vic, or come up with your own nickname for me. I've been called: Violin, Vi, Viol, Villis, Oa I won't be disclosing my age.

HUUUGE Metallica, Megadeth, and Shock Tilt fan. I really like Metallica and Megadeth. I'm a guitarist. I write fanfiction. I write smut, fluff, angst and neutral texts/fics. But yeah I also edit and here are my public socials; Tiktok: @Poor Twisted V or @poortwistededitor.inc Snapchat: Violakicksyoass

And you can always talk to me, Yap to me, just become friends w me. I've got no limits or anythin'. I'm a bit weird but yeah. I'm a very horny lad, just a heads up if you see me post freaky shi.

[vicgimmehead]

I juat bough mop cd, very happy

[ezras-kent-blog]

Hej jag hörde Kent för första gången idag/2 juni och jag gillar musiken. Sångtips? Jag lyssnar just nu på debut-albummet men jag älskar låten "Pärlor". Hehe tack!

hejsan! kul att du hittat hit :D

om du planerar att lyssna på allt dem gjort så tycker jag att du kör på från början till slut! men om jag ska rekommendera något så skulle jag säga att Hagnesta Hill albumet har många älskade låtar! den kändaste låten måste nog vara ”Stoppa mig juni (lilla ego)”. många har den som favorit låt hehe

eftersom du tycker om ”Pärlor” så kan du lyssna på Vapen & Ammunition albumet! enligt mig är det nog en utav de coolare albumen. Instrumentalen känns spännande och catchy ^^

jag kan lika gärna rekommendera alltihop för allting är så bra!! många bra b-sidor på singlar också!!

hursomhelst, det är svårt att veta exakt vad du är intresserad av. samtidigt älskar jag allt som kent har gjort. men jag tänker att jag delar med mig av låtar jag tycker om! Så hoppas jag att du har en bra dag!

1. När det blåser på månen [Kent]

2. Chans [B-sidor 1995-00]

3. Min Värld [B-sida ”Ingenting” singel]

4. Beredd på allt [Jag är inte rädd för mörkret]

5. Revolt III [Hagnesta Hill]

6. Sjukhus [Röd]

7. Mannen i den vita hatten (16 år senare) [Du & Jag Döden]

8. 10 Minuter (för mig själv) [Verkligen]

9. Allt har sin tid [Tigerdrottningen]

10. Nostromo [Best of]

11. Saker man ser [Isola]

12. Sundance kid [Vapen & Ammunition]

13. VinterNoll2 [B-sida ”FF” singel]

14. Palace & Main [Du & jag döden]

15. Generation Ex [Tillbaka till samtiden]

16. Krossa allt [Röd]

17. Ingen kunde röra oss [singel]

18. Mirage [Tigerdrottningen]

19 Förlåtelsen [Då som nu för alltid]

20. Ensam lång väg hem [En plats i solen]

21. Kräm (så nära får ingen gå) [Verkligen]

kolla även in musikvideorna om det intresserar dig :)

[vicgimmehead]

SHOUTOUT TILL DIG HOLY SMOKES TACK

[vicgimmehead]

Så snurra min jord igen

Radion spelar vår sång

Stockholm ligger öde och världen håller andan

Snurra min jord igen

För allt vi drömde en gång

Allt som du gör blir till pärlor på min panna

[tsukutsukuboshi05]

this guy plays mario? what a NERD!!!

[themetallicahistorian]

Images from Cliff’s first show with Metallica. March 5th, 1983 at The Stone in San Francisco.

More images found on Pinterest, @DoomDonut2000

[vicgimmehead]

IS IT JUST ME OR DOES IT LOOK LIKE ONE OF HIS EYES ARE LOOKING A DIFFERENT WAY

like yoohooo over here dave

IT DOES AND I LOVE THIS PICTURE I HAVEN'T SEEN IT BEFORE THANK YOUUU.

[vicgimmehead]

i wwant to write but I left my laptop in my bag. AAAAAA. and wait... WAIT. no I just realised. I can't use my laptop to write in the summertime... I'll have to write... On my.... Phone!? NOOO

[aleksiarattlehead]

here's pictures of Dave with motorcycles.

Here's a great picture I love and look at everyday cuz it's funny and has reaction image potential

woaaaaahhh i have the 3rd one printed on my wall

[aleksiarattlehead]

hola hola amigo. (I don't know Spanish except Trust-Spanish Version)

How are youuuu?

Here's a weird Dave meme I made cuz I was booored

helloooooo my friend

i am decent

he’s giving me when i’m forced to take a photo

[beulf]

dave and pam mustaine appreciation post

[vicgimmehead]

remember, in public youre my princess. in private youre my whore.

Who are you

[0nyx11]

Megameth

[thefinalcurtainfalls]

there's so much fucking drama in the megadeth fandom and it's tiring.

what you write about—your fantasies, your fics, whatever—doesn't necessarily portray how you are as a person, but the way you write it does.

you can be a bad person and write nice tropes, and you can be a good person and write dark tropes. it's the way you word it and how you portray it that lets people know who you are and how you see things.

take that as you will.

also stop throwing around the word pedophile jesus fucking christ.

[vicgimmehead]

I think I listen too much to Choking Victim...

I listen quite a lot cuz it's so peak.

Those who get it, get it.

[possible-streetwear]

[vicgimmehead]

My Man

James Hetfield X Reader

Summary: James is your older boyfriend, who's engaged in some criminal stuff. He has to leave and as he's gone you get kidnapped by some people whom he owes. He pays his debt and gets you back and at home you two have some lovey-dovey love-making. It's got smut to a small degree (sorry, but it's still worth reading, trust me.) 1.7K words.

“Shhh, baby girl, it’s okay, don’t cry.” His deep voice helped soothe you enough for the tears to stop falling. Cradled in his arms, you had cried for the past 20 minutes. 

Through your blurred vision you saw your beautiful silver fox man. His icy blues were hooded and looked down at you with pure love. 

“C’mon bae, you know how bad it makes me feel when you cry. I won’t be gone forever, sweetie.” Your ears filled with his beautiful deep chuckle.  

You curled up even closer, burying your face in his tattooed neck. The scent of him filled you; he smelled like cigarettes, whiskey, and trouble. 

“But it’s dangerous, can’t you stay here with me? Please.” You tried your best to choke back the sobs you felt return in your throat. 

“My darlin’. You know I can’t do that. This is my job. I promise I’ll be safe. Don’t even worry.” The moon reflected a stream of light in the room; it fell right on you and James. It spread heat inside you, your eyelids growing heavy with sleep. The clock was past midnight; you knew James had to leave soon, and it broke your heart every single time. The streets were scary and you didn’t want your man to go back out there. He was getting old, but he was still physically strong, with a mind and soul of someone 40 years younger. 

You blinked, looked around, and sure enough, he was gone. The couch didn’t feel as inviting anymore, everything felt so empty without him. But it was just for a few nights, right? No matter what you wanted, James had to leave. James wasn’t just your “older boyfriend”; he was your caregiver, your lover, yours.  

Hours passed, hours turned into a day, day turned into night.  

You fell on your bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight. A sense of belonging, home. Your pyjamas consisted of one of James’ shirts that draped over your body and a pair of pyjama-shorts from Walmart. Nothing fancy, but it was yours, and partially James’s too.  

A bang on your door made you shoot up from your bed. Your blood ran cold. Nobody should be visiting at these hours. But as you were about to walk to the door, you heard a window shatter. This wasn’t right. Someone broke in. And you were all alone. 

The doors to the closet opened very quietly, your hands trembling with fear as you reached in and wrapped your fingers around the cold steel. The handgun was a nice Glock 19; one James always had in the back of the closet for safety. You held it up to protect yourself. You positioned yourself in the corner and tried to steady yourself. 

After short two masked guys opened the bedroom door, their rifles pointed at you as soon as their eyes landed on your trembling form. 

“Put the gun down.” One of the men spoke. 

You shook your head. 

“You’re James’ girlfriend, aren’t you? That old man really likes ‘em young, huh?” The other chuckled. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Your finger rested on the trigger, ready to fire. 

The men’s laughter died down, and they got a more serious look in their eyes. Floorboards creaked under their feet as they took a step closer. 

“Stay back. I’ll shoot.” Your gaze darted between the two. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the safety on. And don’t even think about turning it off. Drop the gun.” 

The men were, indeed, correct. You had safety on. 

Reluctantly, you dropped the handgun. The sound of when the Glock hit the floor had you feeling defeated. 

“Stand up.” The man’s voice was like ice. 

In only a matter of seconds you were being led outside in the cold evening air. Cold air hit your skin. You were shoved into the back of a van that stood on your driveway, where James' truck usually was parked. Your hands zip-tied together, which restricted you from fighting back. The interior of the van was clean but rough. Guns scattered across the floor, along with gloves and ski masks. A claustrophobe's worst nightmare. Dark and dusty. 

The car started with the rev of the engine; the sound rang out through the dark evening atmosphere. 

A small window allowed you to look out over the city; cars passed, tall buildings, fields and forests. Contrasting landscapes. Some beautiful, some not, but that wasn’t important. You had to get out, but you couldn’t. Hours into the drive the car finally stopped; it had to have been into the morning hours by that point. The sun rose on the horizon as you got escorted out of the car. Fatigued, cheeks flushed red, eyes puffy from tears; you were led into some abandoned warehouse. 

Tied to a chair, masked men filled the big space. Someone handed you a phone, it was on speaker, and as you heard his voice you started to feel the tears form again. 

“Hey, baby, how are you? Hurt?” James’ voice was worried, laced with anger and sadness. 

“M’fine. Not hurt.” You didn’t get to say another word before the man took the phone back, turned off speaker and held it to his ear. 

“Y’know what we want, Hetfield. You’ve got 24 hours. Pay up, or she’s gone.”  

Your eyes widened, of course you expected this, but actually hearing the words stung. Your heart ached, if only you were back in James’ arms, the safety, the comfort, but instead you were kidnapped in some warehouse, unsafe and scared for your life. 

You fell asleep from pure exhaustion only a few minutes of agonizing crying later. 

The sight before you when you opened your eyes was one of shock. Your eyes shooting up, your entire body shook awake. He was here. 

Your James, face bruised, his beautiful silver ‘stache had red stains of blood from his split lip. He still stood tall as ever, nonetheless his state. His leather jacket was wet, clinging to him, probably because of the rain you suspected because of the sounds of droplets that fell on the roof. His hands were on his belt; his big fingers had a tight grip on the buckle. He looked angry, frustrated, and worried, yet he was somehow collected. 

James’ eyes softened as he saw you awake. You tried to move a little but that’s when you felt something cold against the side of your head. You froze in fear, suspected the worst, and stood corrected. A gun pressed against your hair. You felt the tears prickle in the corners of your eyes again but didn’t dare let them fall. 

“James, please...” Your voice was a plead for help. Desperate hope. Like a hand reached out, waiting for someone to take it. 

“I know, baby. I’ll get you out of here. It won’t be long. Just need to pay some debts:” His voice was gruff as always, yet the comfort you sought in it didn’t arrive. 

You could hear your own heartbeat. The constant thudding against your insides, the rhythm seemed to seep into the entire room, a part of you on display. 

Thud-Thud. 

“Give it over, Hetfield.”  

Thud-Thud. 

James reached into his pocket. 

Thud-Thud. 

The sound of leather brushing against leather. 

Thud-Thud. 

Voices blurred together in your head but- 

Thud-Thud. 

You couldn’t listen, couldn’t make sense of it. 

Thud-Thud. 

An inner voice screamed. 

Thud-Thud. 

The dusty scent of the room. 

Thud-Thud... 

Your hands got untied, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

Thud-Thud... 

The cold metal wasn’t against your head anymore. And soon you were in James’ arms once again. You held on so tightly. 

Thud-Thud... 

The thuds were softer, your heartbeat at an almost normal and steady pace again. James' warm embrace surrounding you as your tired feet finally got to walk out. At that point, you were finally safe. 

The car door closed, then plush car seats of leather dipped underneath your exhausted body. Not one word broke the silence. And that was how it stayed for the entire ride back home. Home. 

The same landscapes as before passed but not with sorrow, with hope. A hope for comfort once again. The drive wasn’t long though.  

A soft click, a dark and familiar apartment came into sight. Nothing held you back from going in; it was what you wanted the most. But a little kiss for your knight in shining armour needed a kiss for his bravery.  

You reached up and your lips met his, your arms seeping their way around his broad shoulders. It was soft, brief, yet it felt like it lasted a lifetime. Everything else fading away as his moustache tickled you ever so slightly.  

“I love you, baby. I haven’t said it enough, but I’m yours.” His icy-blue's softened and you could’ve sworn you saw the love glisten in his eyes when he spoke these words. Such a beautiful gentleman. Your beautiful gentleman. 

“’Love you too, so much.” You answered. A blush creeping up your neck. 

James chuckled softly, a small, beautiful sound. His strong arms wrapped under your knees and your arms and he picked you up.  

The familiar scent of home filled your lungs as James carried you deeper into the apartment.  

He finally put you down onto the bed.  

“I’ll get you a new pair of pyjamas from the closet, okay?”  

You nodded and watched as he walked out of eyesight towards the closet. The closet doors creaked open and he took out one of his usual T-shirts and a pair of panties for you. 

“Let me help you out of these clothes sweetheart. Just relax, I’ve got you.”  

He gently helped you get your shirt off, his eyes grazed over your delicate skin. He then helped you off with your shorts, when an idea crossed his mind. A playful smirk grew on his face. 

“Well, you’re already naked. Might aswell make the most of it, right?”  

You looked down, then back up at him and bit your lower lip before slowly nodding in agreement. 

James took off his leather jacket, and shirt along with his dirty, worn-out jeans.  

Kisses and moans were audible; skin met skin as James slowly made love to you. Not rough, slow, sensual, sweet. He left praises all around you. 

“So beautiful. I love you. You’re doing so good.” 

His chest glistened with sweat that dripped down to his happy trail. His hands caressed you in a way that they had never. His hand cupped your breast, squeezing lightly. 

His cock pumping in and out of you, but it wasn’t dirty. It was sex, but it was also more. A bond. One that could never be broken. 

And then you came, a light feeling cursing through your veins, a feeling of love. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

done.