He Needs To Pick A Hair Color Because Are You Blonde Dirty Blonde OR GINGER ???👩🏻‍🦰👩🏼

the look after he says master WOW I NEED THAT

Okay I got one

90sJason x masculine!reader (whether the reader is a tomboy, is actually a guy, whatever, I leave that up to you, and whatever era of Jason from the 90s is up to you) (frankly as a more masculine person, we do not get enough masc!reader content 😭)

Jason finally introduces you to the guys and they all make fun of him for dating someone who’s so masculine and it starts to make the reader insecure and worried that they may be too masculine and even worries it may be affecting how Jason feels about them entirely

So the reader starts to present more feminine in hopes it’ll get the guys off of Jason’s back and hopefully makes Jason more attracted to the reader but he finally notices and they talk it out and they live happily ever after and all that fun stuff

Light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, and fluffy stuff (cause we love Jason in this house)

Thank you for the request, this took me forever because my life was chaotic 🥲💙

His kind of beautiful

Jason Newsted x Reader ☆ fluff, angst, comfort

I happily held Jason's hand as he led me into the studio. I had been dating him for a few months, but this was the first time he was introducing me to the rest of the band. I couldn't help but feel a little nervous about what they would think of me.

Being a total tomboy, I was always more comfortable in jeans and t-shirt than in a dress and heels. I didn't fit the image of the dolled-up chicks that surrounded the band 24/7.

As we walked into the room, they stared at me like I was a fish in a bowl, their gazes lingering on my outfit and appearance.

"Hey guys, this is Y/N, my girlfriend I have been talking about." Jason said, breaking the silence.

The boys nodded in acknowledgment, but their expressions remained unreadable. I tried to ignore their scrutiny as I greeted them, but the vibe in the room felt off and I felt like an outsider in their world, like I didn't belong among them.

I tried to make small talk, but the conversation felt forced and stilted.

As the evening went on, I couldn't shake the feeling of being judged by the band. I felt self-conscious and out of place, like I was intruding their territory and wondered if Jason had made a mistake bringing me here.

Later, excusing myself, I headed towards the bathroom. On my way back, I approached the door to the studio and my feet stopped moving as I heard my name and listened intently to the conversation.

"Hey Newkid! Don't want to be mean but, I actually am a bit scared of your new girl." James spoke, a laugh rumbling in his chest and my heart sank.

"Yea, she looks so masculine, makes me wonder if you're batting for the other team secretly." Lars put in his two cents.

The words were like a punch to the gut. I felt a surge of anger, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of humiliation. I wanted to disappear, to rewind the day and go home, safe in my own little world where my appearance didn't invite judgement.

I stood frozen, hidden from view, listening as they dissected me. Their words chipped away at my confidence, confirming my deepest insecurities. Maybe I didn't belong in Jason's world. Maybe I was too different.

I felt overwhelmed by their mean words, wanting nothing but to escape the studio and leave. Bracing myself, I opened the door, silencing the guys immediately with my presence.

Facing Jason with a fake smile, I made up an excuse to leave before I turned and walked out of there, the weight of their words heavy on my shoulders.

As I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me and I took a deep breath. I didn't want Jason to know what I had overheard, but the pain and anger were hard to shake.

The moment I was home, the carefully constructed composure crumbled as I slammed the door shut and leaned against it with a sigh.

Then, like a moth to a flame, I drifted to the mirror in the hallway. I stared at my reflection – the short choppy dark hair, bold tattoos covering my arms like a sleeve, I eschewed bold makeup, opting instead for a natural look that accentuated neither my assets nor my flaws with lashes thin and unimpressive.

Physically, I was athletic with rather muscular arms and shoulders but hardly curvaceous and my small breasts were practically nonexistent without a bra. Masculine. Yes, they were right.

Tears welled up, blurring my reflection. Was I not good enough? Was I not feminine enough? Jason was amazing, kind, talented and good-looking and I was… this. The band, his friends, they clearly disapproved and their casual cruelty echoed in my head.

A deep, unsettling feeling settled in my stomach. I wanted to be accepted, to belong, especially in Jason’s world. And right then, staring at my reflection, a desperate thought took root. I needed to change. I needed to be what they, what Jason, expected or I would never fit in.

•••

The following days, I made the effort to rework my identity. I traded in my baggy pants and tees for short dresses and tight fitted jeans that hugged my figure, and heels that made me taller, more elegant, and most importantly, prettier for Jason.

My nails were painted in glossy red and I even dared to wear the bold lip color I'd previously shied away from. Each day, I took longer to prepare, convinced that each alteration would earn the approval I craved.

One night I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the person staring back at me. A tight black mini dress hugged my soft curves, the heels made me feel like a completely different woman and my features were accentuated with smokey eyes and red lips as I tried to shake off the feeling of insecurity that had been plaguing me since I overheard the band's conversation.

The words had cut deep, and I had found myself wondering if I was really the right person for Jason. But as I looked at my reflection, I felt a sense of confidence and I was ready to face Jason and the band, to show them that I could be feminine and beautiful.

As I walked into the bar that night, Jason's eyes widened in admiration. "Y/N, wow..." he breathed, his gaze roaming over my new look. "You look... amazing." He took my hand, pulling me close, and I could see the wonder in his eyes. But I also saw a hint of curiosity, a question that he didn't quite know how to ask.

The band was just as shocked, their eyes fixated on me as if they were seeing me for the first time. I could sense their guilt, their realization that they had been talking about me behind my back. But as they looked at me now, I could see the attraction in their eyes, the admiration for the person I had become for tonight.

When I sat down and joined the group, the conversation was a little stilted at first. But as the drinks flowed, the band began to open up, complimenting me on my new look and I could see the sincerity in their eyes, the regret for their previous words.

Jason, on the other hand, seemed a little reserved. He kept looking at me, his eyes searching for the person he knew, the natural beauty he fell in love with, wondering if there was a reason for the sudden change of appearance.

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself growing increasingly self-conscious about my new image. It wasn't just about making Jason more attracted to me anymore. I had become fixated on maintaining this idealized version of femininity at all costs.

Jason couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something had triggered this drastic change in me. He recalled the snide remarks made by his bandmates, the condescending tone when referring to my looks. Could I have overheard those hurtful words? The thought alone made Jason's blood boil with indignation and concern.

One evening, as we were preparing dinner together, Jason finally mustered the courage to confront me directly. His expression was a mix of curiosity and apprehension as he cleared his throat to speak.

"Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you." Jason began, his eyes searching mine intently. "What brought on this...new you? The way you dress, the way you carry yourself..."

"What do you mean? I'm still the same person, Jason. Maybe I just wanted to try something new?" I asked, playing dumb, even though I knew exactly what he was getting at.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, you look great, but it's like you're trying to be someone else." Jason replied.

"Well maybe I am..."  I said, busying myself with chopping vegetables.

"Y/N, what's going on? Did something happen that I don't know about?" Jason's persistence was unwavering as he probed deeper, seeking answers to the mystery that had consumed him.

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But the genuine concern in his voice made me open up. "It's just...I guess I feel like I needed to prove something."

"To prove something? What do you mean by that?" Jason pressed, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"I overheard your bandmates talking about me the day you took me to the studio and they weren't very kind about my appearance..." My voice trailed off as painful memories resurfaced. "The things they said, the way they laughed..."

Jason's face darkened with anger at the remembrance. "They are idiots. They don't know the first thing about you or what makes you beautiful."

"But their words stuck with me and I've been wondering if maybe they were right..." My voice trailed off, setting down the knife I had been using to chop vegetables.

I hesitated, struggling to articulate the complex emotions swirling within me. "I think...I think I wanted to show everyone,  including myself, that I could be desirable, beautiful. That I deserved to be accepted and appreciated."

Jason's expression softened, understanding dawning upon him. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tilt my chin up so I had to meet his gaze.

"Y/N, listen to me." Jason said softly, his thumb caressing my cheek. "You are absolutely gorgeous, just the way you are. Inside and out. My bandmates are idiots who don't know anything about true beauty."

"I just felt so self conscious after hearing their words and it just made me think that I'm not good enough for you, and I decided to change into a pretty version of me."

"Baby no, I fell in love with YOU, not some idealized image you feel pressured to project." Jason's other hand came up to cup my face tenderly.

His heartfelt words washed over me, soothing the deep-seated insecurities that had driven me to transform myself. His sincere affection filled me with a sense of calm and security I hadn't experienced in weeks.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I searched Jason's eyes for any hint of deception.

"Yes, every word," he assured me.

"I loved you before, and I love you now."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against mine. "You never need to change a thing about yourself for anyone, least of all me. I cherish every part of you, flaws and all, ok?"

His warm breath was ghosting across my lips as he whispered, "You're perfect, sweetheart. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise. Some fleeting opinion does not define your worth."

In that moment, surrounded by Jason's warmth and tenderness, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. The pressure to conform to an unrealistic standard dissipated, replaced by a newfound confidence in my own unique identity.

I wrapped my arms around Jason, pulling him closer as I buried my face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you." I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "For seeing me, truly seeing me, and for reminding me of my worth."

"You know what?" Jason smiled, his hands wandering appreciatively over my body. "I think you're sexier than ever, just like this. No makeup, no fancy dresses, just you in your natural state."

Without waiting for a response, Jason scooped me up into his strong arms, carrying me towards our bedroom with a playful grin and I couldn't help but giggle and smile, happy to be with someone who could see my true beauty. "Come on, sweetheart. Let me worship every inch of you tonight."

Just appreciating Load era Kirk's smile....😍😍And those eyes....🤭🤭That is all...

evil man i love you

Cliff on the phone ☎️

We deserve this.

insane face card do I wanna be with him or be him

Kirk Hammett for Guitar Center