#sid wilson imagine

[jimsbeetroot]

𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 ♱ 𝐣𝐢𝐦 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭

part three of the stains trilogy, if you will.

1. stains | 2. burns

warnings! smut! bratty? rough sex! foreplay! age gap relationship!

words; 3145

summary; after a night of disobeying jim completely, you wake up and face your not-so-pleased boyfriend. you, as you’ve promised, clean up that stupid couch, only for it to get messy again.

-

YOU WOKE UP WITH YOUR HEAD POUNDING, the harsh light streaming through the window only making it worse. Your throat was dry, your body felt heavy, and every inch of you reminded you of the drinks you’d downed last night.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow, trying to piece together the events that led you to this miserable morning.

But the clearer the memories got, the more you cringed. You’d promised Jim you’d keep it together—just a few drinks with friends at his place, then a call when you were ready to be picked up. Simple, easy. But of course, you’d gone overboard.

You dragged yourself out of bed, slipping into one of Jim’s oversized t-shirts, your bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. You padded softly into the hallway, every step a reminder of your missteps the night before. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, beckoning you towards the living room.

Jim was already up, sitting on the edge of the couch with a steaming mug in his hand. His expression was calm, composed, but his eyes tracked your every move, a subtle mixture of amusement and annoyance dancing in his gaze. Your heart sank a little at the sight of him. He was wearing those worn-out jeans you loved, paired with a faded band t-shirt, his long hair pulled back in a loose bun. Despite the casual look, there was an air of quiet authority about him, a reminder that he’d been the responsible one while you’d been out of control.

“Morning,” Jim said, his voice low and even.

“Morning,” you mumbled back, feeling a pang of guilt at the warmth of his tone, even after the night you’d put him through.

“You look like hell,” he added with a smirk, taking a sip of his coffee. You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it.

“Thanks, I feel like it too.” You plopped down on the other end of the couch, your gaze drifting to the stain still glaring back at you from the middle cushion. You couldn’t help but snort softly, a fleeting moment of comic relief in an otherwise awkward morning.

Jim’s eyes followed yours, landing on the stain with a small shake of his head. “You’re lucky that’s the least of our worries.”

You bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Guess we got carried away,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “You’re not mad about it, are you?”

“No,” Jim said, setting his coffee down on the table, looking out on the living room. All the bottles and spills of alcohol. Jim had taken the table, the dishes and the food. But he’d left the rest for you to clean. “But this-“ he said and pointed out to his living room, -“is a good reminder of why we shouldn’t mix alcohol and promises, especially when you’re involved.”

You felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You remembered your drunken persistence in the car, how you’d begged and pleaded until he’d finally relented. You’d promised him peace and quiet once you’d get home, but the moment you’d hit the sheets, you’d been all over him again. And Jim, patient as always, had just refused your advances, gently but firmly reminding you of your agreement.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice softer now. “I know I was a brat last night.”

Jim leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded you with a calm intensity. “It’s not just about being a brat,” he said, his tone measured. “It’s about the promises you make and then conveniently forget the moment you don’t get your way.”

You squirmed under his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. You’d been selfish, pushing and pushing until he’d finally given in, and even then, you hadn’t stopped. You’d broken your word to him in more ways than one, and now, staring at the stain on the couch, it all felt embarrassingly childish.

“I’ll clean it,” you said, your voice firmer this time. “I’ll clean everything up.”

“I’ll take the rest if manage to remove that stain. Only because I’m the nicest person in the entire world,” Jim said and your face lit up.

“It’s a dare?” You asked.

“If you want it to be,” Jim shrugged.

He leaned back into the couch, not saying a word as you got up to fetch the cleaning supplies. The quiet was heavy between you, each step feeling like a penance for the chaos you’d caused. You returned with a rag and some cleaner, dropping to your knees beside the couch as you started scrubbing at the stain. Jim watched you, his gaze steady and unreadable, but there was no harshness there, no anger—just that quiet, frustrating patience that made you feel even worse.

As you scrubbed, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, the way his strong hands cradled the coffee mug, the slight flex of his muscles as he shifted in his seat. Even in his calmness, there was a quiet power to him that always drew you in, made you want to push and provoke just to see what it would take to make him snap.

“Are you just going to watch me?” You asked, half-teasing, half-frustrated, the stain seemingly not vanishing at all.

Jim shrugged. “Someone’s gotta make sure you do it right.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t keep the smile off your face. He was infuriating in the way only he could be—unflappable, controlled, always a step ahead of you. It made you want to push further, to find that edge where he might finally lose that composure.

You tossed the rag onto the couch and stood up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m done,” you said defiantly, even though the stain was still faintly there. Jim’s eyes flicked to the cushion, then back to you, one brow arching slightly.

“You call that clean?”

You huffed, stepping closer until you were standing between his legs, your hands on your hips.

“It’s better than it was.”

Jim met your challenge with a steady gaze, unblinking. “But I didn’t ask you to make it better. I asked you to make it go away.”

You sulked and Jim let the silence stretch between you, tension thick in the air. Your heart raced, the proximity to him, the smell of his cologne, the way his eyes bore into yours—it all made you feel that same reckless desire you had last night. But Jim wasn’t giving in; he was making you stew in it, waiting for you to break first.

“Jim…” you said, your voice a low whine, and you shifted, your knee brushing against his thigh. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jim’s hand moved, his fingers lightly tracing the skin of your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. But his eyes remained fixed on yours, that same infuriating calm still in place. “Promises, promises,” he murmured, his tone making you squirm.

You bit your lip, your patience snapping. You leaned in, your hands resting on his shoulders as you straddled his lap, pressing your body against his. “Please, Jim,” you whispered, your voice needy, desperate. “I need you.”

Jim’s grip tightened on your thigh, his eyes darkening as he finally let his restraint slip, just a little. “You’ve been nothing but trouble,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Kept me up all night, made promises you couldn’t keep…”

Your breath hitched, your hips grinding down against him, seeking friction. “I’ll keep them now,” you promised, your voice breathless. “Please, Jim, I’ll do anything.”

Jim’s hand moved to your waist, his touch firm as he guided your movements. “You’d better,” he said, his tone a mix of warning and promise. He pulled you closer, his lips hovering just above yours but not quite touching, making you whine in frustration. He brushed his lips against yours softly, teasingly, before pulling back just enough to see the desperation in your eyes.

“Patience, Y/N,” he whispered, his lips ghosting along your jawline as his hands roamed under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin with maddening slowness. Your breath caught, your head falling back as he took his time exploring you, his touch light but deliberate. He pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought as his lips moved down your neck, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver.

You squirmed in his lap, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as your hips rolled against him. You felt him harden beneath you, his cock pressing against you through both of your clothes.

Jim was in no rush. His hands slid up to your breasts, cupping them firmly before pinching your nipples, making you gasp. He smiled against your skin at your reaction, loving the way you responded to his touch.

“Jim, please,” you whimpered, your body aching for more as you ground against him, seeking the friction you desperately needed. But Jim was relentless, his pace slow and controlled, savoring every sound that fell from your lips. His mouth moved lower, kissing a trail down your chest, over the swell of your breasts, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked lightly, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, making you cry out and arch into him.

Your hands roamed over his back, nails digging in as your movements grew more frantic, your need for him becoming unbearable. “I need you,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “Jim, please, I can’t—”

Jim pulled back, his lips slick and swollen from his ministrations, his eyes meeting yours with a heat that sent a jolt of arousal straight through you.

“You really are impatient,” he teased, but the way his breath hitched told you, that he was just as affected as you were.

Jim reached down between you, deftly unbuttoning his jeans, and freed himself from the confines of his clothes. Your eyes widened as you watched, your breath hitching at the sight of him—hard, thick, and ready. You licked your lips, your need for him amplifying as you reached down to stroke him, feeling his length twitch under your touch. Jim groaned, his grip on her hips tightening as your hand worked over him, slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm he’d been teasing you with.

“Enough,” Jim growled, his patience finally snapping. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away as he positioned you above him. “You want it? Then take it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You lifted yourself up, positioning him at your entrance, the anticipation making you shiver.

With one smooth motion, you sank down onto him, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as he filled you completely. The stretch, the fullness, the sheer heat of him inside you—it was overwhelming in the best way, every nerve in your body lighting up with pleasure.

“Fuck, Jim,” you moaned, your head falling back as you took him in to the hilt, your thighs trembling around him. Jim gritted his teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he fought to maintain control, every muscle in his body tensing as he resisted the urge to just flip you over and fuck you senseless.

“Move,” he commanded, his voice strained, the last threads of his composure slipping as you began to roll your hips, your pace slow and torturous. You set a rhythm, rocking back and forth, your movements smooth and fluid as you found your pace. Jim’s eyes darkened as he watched you, the sight of you struggling to cope with the pleasure, the way your body moved with such wanton need, was enough to drive him to the edge.

Your moans filled the room, your hands braced against Jim’s chest as you rode him, your movements growing faster and more erratic as the pleasure built inside you.

Jim met your pace with hard, deliberate thrusts, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, the coil in your stomach tightening with every roll of your hips.

“Right there,” you panted, your nails digging into his chest as you chased your high. “Oh god, right there—don’t stop.”

Jim’s hands roamed over your body, one sliding up your back to fist in your hair, pulling your head back so he could claim your mouth in a bruising kiss. His other hand slipped between you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that had you crying out into his mouth. The combined sensations—the fullness of him inside you, the relentless pressure on your clit, the heat of his lips against yours—it was all too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come on,” Jim murmured against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “Come for me, Y/N.”

That was all it took.

Your body tensed, your back arching as you shattered around him, a broken moan ripping from your throat as you came undone. Your muscles clenched tight around him, your walls fluttering as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling in his arms.

Jim watched as you shattered around him, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the walls.

Your nails raked down his chest, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you rode out every wave of pleasure. But Jim wasn’t done.

As soon as he felt you starting to relax, he moved.

With a swift, decisive motion, Jim flipped you onto your back, spreading your legs wide, whipping one of them over his shoulder as he settled between them. There was no hesitation, no teasing this time. He thrust into you hard, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke that tore a scream from your throat. The sound was raw, unfiltered, and it sent a bolt of pure lust straight through him.

Jim gripped your thigh, fingers digging into your thigh as your leg flexed over his shoulder in reaction to his punishing pace, his thrusts fast, hard, and deep, driving into you with a single-minded focus.

His jaw was clenched, eyes locked onto yours as he took you exactly the way he wanted—relentless and unrestrained. He watched your face contort in pleasure, your mouth open in a continuous stream of moans and cries that spurred him on, each sound you made only pushing him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Jim!” You gasped, your hand scrabbling for purchase against his upper arm, your nails digging in as you tried to keep up with his brutal pace. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, every thrust sending shocks of overstimulation through you, but you didn’t want him to stop. The sheer force of his movements, the intensity of his gaze—it was too much and yet not enough all at once.

Jim could feel you squeezing around him, your body still responding even after your climax, and it drove him wild. He shifted his angle slightly, driving deeper, harder, each thrust a forceful reminder of how much he needed this.

He was chasing his own release now, every stroke a means to an end, each one rougher than the last. He loved the way you screamed for him, the way your body arched off the couch, your legs trembling as Jim assisted you in lifting your one leg off his shoulder and instead wrapped both your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“Yeah, you like that?” Jim growled, his voice rough and edged with need. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he pounded into you, relentless and fierce. “Fucking scream for me.”

You did exactly that, your voice breaking as you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. You were lost in the feeling, the way he stretched you, filled you, pushed you right back to the edge of pleasure-pain that you couldn’t get enough of. You clung to him, nails scratching down his back, urging him on as he took you harder, faster, his thrusts shaking the couch beneath them.

Jim’s breathing was ragged, his control slipping as he chased his own climax. He was focused entirely on the way you felt around him, the tight, wet heat of her drawing him deeper, the way your body trembled with every powerful thrust. He could feel himself getting close, his muscles tightening, the need for release building to an unbearable peak.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his rhythm growing more erratic as he lost himself in the sensation. He gripped your hips even tighter, driving into you with a ferocity that left you gasping, every stroke pushing you further and further until you were on the brink again.

Jim’s head fell forward, his hair coming loose from its tie, strands sticking to his sweat-slicked skin. His movements became more desperate, each thrust a plea for release, each one harder and deeper until finally, he felt himself teeter on the edge. With a low, guttural moan, he thrust into you one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go as he came, the pleasure ripping through him like a tidal wave.

He could feel every pulse, every throb of his release as he filled you, his body shuddering with the force of it. You held him close, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your own breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you clung to him, the intensity of his orgasm sending shockwaves through you as well.

You stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, both of you breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

You pulled Jim down to meet your face and he rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, the silence between you comfortable and charged.

Jim’s hands gently stroked your cheek, soothing her as you shivered, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through you.

“Feel better?” Jim asked, his voice softer now, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed breathlessly, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all. “Yeah,” you admitted, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Much better.”

You both sat up and you nestled yourself in Jim’s lap.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he buried his face in your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “Good,” he murmured.

“But that stain isn’t gone.”

You whipped your head to look at him, your lips formed in a thin line. “I’ll clean the rest. It’s fine.”

You shrugged. You deserved to clean up your mess.

Jim glanced over at the stain, smirking.

“You know,” he said, his voice filled with wry amusement, “I think, I really just need to invest in some better cleaning supplies.”

You grinned, your hand sliding up his chest to cup his jaw, your thumb brushing over the stubble there. “Or,” you suggested, your voice playful, “we just don’t try to keep it clean at all.”

Jim rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. “Brat,” he muttered, but his tone was filled with affection.

“Always,” you shot back, your smile wide as she leaned in for another kiss, already thinking of how you might push his buttons next time. But for now, you were content to just bask in the aftermath, wrapped up in Jim’s arms, feeling every bit the troublemaker who’d finally, finally gotten your way.

[fritz-federleicht]

the 1999 slipknot guys (like sid, mick, joey, chris, n corey maybe paul too) with a mall goth s/o, just like general head cannons. preferably gn reader but i don’t rlly care on the gender. so basically the reader dresses like Talena Atfield from Kittie, that type of style, and they mainly listen to like nu, industrial, n goth metal!! if not that’s totally ok!!

... with a mall goth reader/ Slipknot x reader

Notes: i didn't write anything for Paul, i had too few ideas, hope you still like it

Sid:

- he has a soft spot for goth clothing, but only when you wear it

- maybe that's because you led him to it through your development

- you didn't always dress like this

- in the past you didn't put much thought into what you wore, you just took

what you get

- you were already a couple back then

- at some point it clicked and you dressed differently

- Sid thought it was a bit weird at first, he didn't think your new look was bad it's not like that, but you just looked different, not like when he first met you

- but the way Sid is, he thinks it makes you dangerous, and he thinks that's hot

- it also has a plus point, now Sid doesn't have to worry about unwanted pairs of eyes looking at you

- also your taste in music has changed

- of course you always supported his music, listened to it, but you never listened to more than Slipknot

- now you have discovered your passion for metal, which Sid is very happy about, because you can visit concerts of this kind together

- extra: with his oversize jumpsuits he wears at gigs he has one of your bracelets on each arm, so he is not only closer to you but can also work at the mixing desk without the sleeves slipping down

Joey:

- he loves your clothes with all his heart

- especially your jewelry and shoes

- if you have the same shoe size he wears your boots to Murderdolls gigs

- when you come home with new bracelets he asks you to show them to him

- you do it proudly of course, want to show off your new achievements

- Joey looks at everything examining, already considers which he can steal from time to time

- sometime later you want to wear a new bracelet, but it's not there

- "Joey! Have you seen my bracelet?"

- you enter the room he is in, he hides his hand behind his back. "No?"

- you walk up to him and pull his hand out from behind his back. Your bracelet dangles around his wrist. "If you like my jewelry so much why don't you buy the exact same thing? Why don't we go partnered?" You suggest

- Joey, of course, is thrilled. But only goes along on one condition. "You pick out the jewelry and I buy it."

- that's how it comes that you often wear the same accessories

Chris:

- as soon as he sees you in fishnet clothes something stirs inside him, he just loves it

- on those days he can't tear his eyes away from you

- all the time they are on you, not craving or anything, just desiring, like you are the most valuable thing this world has ever produced

- but not only his gaze is constantly on you, but also his hands

- he runs his fingers over the black squares, touching your skin and giving you goose bumps

- at the beginning he found your reaction to his touch cute, now he finds it endearing

Mick:

- this big man loves to kiss you

- it looks quite funny when you wear chains with spikes

- he bends down to you and cups your jaw lovingly as if you were fragile

- at the same time he touches your chain and gets pricked

- he slowly lets his gaze wander from your eyes, over your beautiful face and then finally to your necklace

- he exhales as he pushes his hand further up to your cheek, so high that his arm no longer touches the spikes, bending his arms more, pulling them away from you

- you grin innocently and lean against him

- He releases a hand from your cheek, caresses your waist, he leans to your ear and whispers. "I can't wait to rip that chain off your neck." As he says this he is careful not to get too close to your neck, you blush

- Mick spreads light kisses from your cheek to your lips, in between he pulls away. "I love when you blush."

Corey:

- when you get ready you listen to metal songs

- Corey, who is usually in the room right next to you, hears the music come on

- he waits a moment for you to put on your clothes, you already sing along with the music

- after a short time he comes rushing into your room, all excited

- he loves to sing with you (roar with you)

- often the whole situation drags out from just dressing up, a kind of duet emerges

- despite everything you try to pick out suitable jewelry for your look

- singing Corey points at bracelets, necklaces and belts, suggests them to you

- now and then you take it and hold it to your body, sometimes you take it, sometimes you put it back in its place

- eventually you've done it and you're all dressed up

- you want to turn off the music but Corey holds you back. "One more song. Please?" He doesn't want the time with you to end

- you nod and together you sing at the top of your lungs, with as much emotion as you can muster

[murdrdoll]

pinned / masterlist

Hi ! I’m doll ! Here are some things to know about me & this page:

fanfic writer territory! I primarily write x reader / y/n fics, and they’ll be linked below in this post. If that’s not ur cup of tea then click away pls !

This page is 18+ - NSFW will be written, so MDNI pls !

I also love to post silly pics and memes I find online hehe

may also post some doodles and art oop

my primary fandoms as of now are Slipknot & Murderdolls/Wednsday 13 !

A lil’ bit abt me: 20 yr old goth artist who loves fitness, fashion & peanut m&ms !

one last note: heavy respect to all artists and people I portray in my posts; their work is not my property, and all purposes of this page are for entertainment. This is not meant to be a real reflection of them, or for them.

masterlist:

⚰︎ angst | ✶ smut | ‹𝟹 fluff

Slipknot

Joey Jordison

Joey likes to buy you makeup! (Joey x reader) ‹𝟹

[issie-https]

𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐉𝐈𝐌 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐓

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jim Root X Female!Reader

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: No

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jim unknowingly turns reader on during a show and she decides she’s ready for him.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT!! P in v(protected💪), oral(F!receiving), fingering and strong language.

𝐀/𝐧: I’m back, boo! Would ya bloody believe it??!! This one is acc proofread xoxo

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1231

I was stood backstage watching my boyfriend, James, as he played his guitar. The way his fingers moved across the strings of the guitar, the way he'd glance at me every so often and hold eye contact, I could tell he was smirking under his mask.

I was now swaying my hips to the music - yes, swaying my hips to Slipknot - and I could feel James’s eyes on me. He was watching my every move, his eyes were burning holes into me. I teasingly moved my hands through my hair, to my breasts, squeezing the covered flesh in my hands before moving them down to my hips and thighs. I was putting on a show for him, somewhat in thanks to him putting on a show for not just me but hundreds of thousands of other people. We locked eyes for a second before he winked and went back to looking at either the crowd - that was going absolutely fucking insane - or his guitar.

The band thanked the crowd before leaving the stage, both hyped up and tired. “That was fucking amazing!” I cheered as I gave them a hug. “Thank you, princess,” James smiled, connecting my lips to his. “Disgusting. Get a fucking room,” Sid groaned. “We’re going home now, see you soon,” I blurted before dragging James out to the car.

“Woah, what’s gotten into you?” He laughed as I fished the car keys out of my bag. “Nothing, that show must’ve been tiring. We should get in be- TO BED! We should get to bed,” I replied, swinging the drivers door open and getting in. I realised that I was almost a whole extra foot away from the steering wheel as it was James’s car. “Get in the passengers side, then” he laughed again. As he said that, he tapped my thigh — the slight bit of connection between our bodies lit my body on fire as the neediness grew in my core. I moved over to the passenger side and he got in the car, turning the key into ignition and setting off for home. The whole time, his hand was on my thigh, rubbing circles that were both comforting and turning me on. Did he know I was ready? We’d talked about it before, he said he’d wait until I was ready and fuck, was I ready.

The second the car were parked in the driveway, I got out the car and dragged him out too - accidentally hitting his head on the car door. “Sorry. Hurry.”

“Why are you in a rush? Are the FBI after you?” He laughed. “Don’t kill my mood, I’m begging,” I said as I flung the front door open. “What mo- wait, that mood?” He asked as his eyes widened. I slammed the door closed as I mumbled a ‘mhm’ and connected his lips to mine again — this time, in a needy kiss. He pulled away from my lips and said, “are you sure you’re ready?” “Yes, positive.” That was all he needed before he smashed his lips onto mine. His hands found their way to my waist then to the back of my thighs as he squeezed the flesh in his hands. My need for him was becoming almost unbearable as he picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me up the stairs with ease. We parted for a second to catch our breaths at the top of the stairs. “Are you definitely sure?” He asked. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned as we connected our lips. “I’ll take care of you,” he said. We reached our bedroom and he wasted no time with kissing me against the door.

He let me down to my feet and helped me fully undress as he did the same. He was fully erect as we got on the bed and I lay down against the plush pillows. The sheets were made and neat but I knew that wouldn’t last long as he wasted no time in kissing my thighs. “Is this okay?” He checked. “More than okay,” I moaned as I tangled my fingers in his dark strands. He moved his face to where I needed him most and sucked my clit into his mouth while he circled two fingers around my entrance. He pushed his digits in and curled them against my g-spot. I let out a strangled moan at the satisfaction, his lips felt like heaven against my throbbing clit. I could already feel my orgasm building as he repetitively stroked my g-spot with his fingers. “Fuck, James. Feels so good,” I whined as the burn in my core spread around my body. I felt like I was floating in space as he pressed quick kisses to my clit. I wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer as my whimpers grew louder. “It’s okay, cum on my fingers, princess,” his voice was deep and husky as he spoke. I felt like I could see stars as I released on his fingers, white pleasure washed over me in silky white sheets — it knocked the air out of my lungs. I came down from my high and looked down at James who had a wide smile on his lips. “I want more,” I breathed as he brought his lips to mine. “As you wish,” he said as he grabbed a condom out of the bedside draw.

He slipped the rubber into his cock and teased my entrance with his tip. “Ready?” He asked, earning a nod from me. He slowly pushed his length into me, stretching me out. Tears slightly pricked in my eyes at the pain that slowly turned into pleasure, moans leaving my lips. “Good girl,” he praised as he bottomed out and started moving at a slow pace. “Please, James, go faster,” I whined. That was all he needed before he picked up the pace and started driving his hips into mine, quick and steadily. I looked down at where our bodies were connected so deliciously and at my lower stomach where his dick was making a slight bump on the surface. “Look at this,” he grinned as he put slight pressure on the bulge. Our faces both contorted into absolute pleasure and satisfaction as both our orgasms neared. My breaths became quick and shallow as I clawed my nails down his back. “Mm~ you feel… so good,” I moaned as he pressed kisses to my lips. He took one of my hands in his as his thrusts got progressively more sloppy. “Can’t hold it,” I whispered. “Do it, cum for me, princess,” he groaned.

The knot in my stomach finally snapped as I came around his cock with a moan. He came soon after, dumping his load into the condom.

We stayed like that for a second before he pulled out and put the condom into the trash. He came back from the bathroom with a damp cloth and wiped my core clean of my arousal. “You okay?” He cooed. “Amazing. You?” I said barely louder than a whisper. “Proud of you. You did so well for me,” he praised as he threw the cloth to the floor.

He lay down in bed beside me and pulled me to his chest. I listened to his soft breaths and the calm but erratic beating of his heart as we both slowly drifted off to sleep.

[lime-bucket]

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

SLIPKNOT IN A FANTASY KINGDOM AU

SID WILSON - Jester

I mean... Let's get real. This guy is funny as fuck.

If I didn't headcanon him as a jester then something would be mentally and morally wrong with me.

JOEY JORDISON - Farrier

I think this one is for my own personal enjoyment but he just seems like he'd enjoy putting on horseshoes??

We all know he was an animal lover so this is certainly fitting in that sense

PAUL GRAY - Butcher

Paul could've certainly did this IRL when he was alive and most of me believes he would've been really good at it.

And to honor his legacy as the pig, this is only fitting.

CHRIS FEHN - Hunter

Chris on the hunt scares me in my head. So I had to do it. It had to happen.

Imagine him fucking chasing after you?? Helllllll no.

JIM ROOT - Blacksmith

He works with motorcycles so this is the closest we'd get in a kingdom fantasy sense

He can still be sexy and sweaty just without the grease from a bike

CRAIG JONES - Banker

I feel like at one point he was in charge of the bands finances, whether that's true or not I really don't know, but I want to assume it was true

He'd kill it as a banker and you can't change my mind

SHAWN CRAHAN - Judge

After all these shit decisions with the band, this would be so fitting! And it would give Mick a very intensive job.

As you can tell, I'm not happy with Shawn at all. He'd be corrupt and that's the end of the story.

MICK THOMSON - Executioner

Big man. Biiiiiig man. This is the perfect job for a big burly man.

And seeing him come up to fucking murder you with that black hood on? Terrifying.

COREY TAYLOR - Sheriff

Going along with Shawn in corruption, he'd make the perfect Sheriff! I'm also not happy with him.

But he does lay down the law most of the time so it's a fitting job regardless.

[in-death-we-fall]

Aesthetics of Hate

This is the House of Nine. There is a horror that echoes through its walls. There is a horror that shifts and broods. A horror that coils itself into a moment of truth. This is our house. We have heard it sing.

It’s started again, hasn’t it? That’s why we’re back. That’s why we’ve… changed.

Back? Listen.

We never left.

Slipknot’s drug, alcohol and ego problems are history. No longer at war with each other, the only struggle now is finding a way to finish it.

Words: Ken McIntyre. Pics: Steve Brown.

Aka the one that aged like milk. Many thanks to @incredizort for sharing your collection. (docs link)

The are the village people of the damned, a psychedelic terror circus populated by depressed clowns, obsessive-compulsives, misanthropes, cyborgs, droogs, ghouls, and goblins. Their sound is a barrage of noise and confusion, a bundle of hiss and the dynamiting of mountains. They look like escaped mental patients on Halloween, and their demeanor vacillates between grandiose and openly hostile. They are Slipknot, and they are legion.

Since 1995, these nine creatures of latex and bone from the fertile plains of Des Moines, Iowa, have lorded over their dysfunctional kingdom of maggots and problem children with shaky hands that have often succumbed to their own wretched excesses. As the band went from strength to strength, from the runaway freight train of their 1999 self-titled debut album to the embittered, embattled success of 2001’s Iowa and their surprisingly tuneful comeback, 2004’s Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses), Slipknot scaled unheard-of heights for an extreme metal band, snapping up Gold and Platinum albums, winning Grammy awards, infiltrating the mainstream like sinister double agents.

But none of it came easy, and lurking behind the mask was a band at war with itself; a band riddled with drug, alcohol, and ego problems. In 2005, the levy finally broke, and Sipknot took a much-needed break, the various members healing, mending fences, and exploring other creative avenues. Singer Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root returned to Stone Sour, drummer Joey Jordison played with a myriad of bands, from Korn to Metallica, and drummer and visual artist Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan produced the revealing ‘Knot-doc Voliminal: Inside The Nine, among other projects.

But they could not avoid their fates forever, and so Slipknot return with a roaring new album, All Hope Is Gone, which pits a burgeoning retro-thrash metal obsession and their recent flirtations with melody against their original vision of pure, bloodlusting aggression and brutality. And with this latest dispatch from the abyss comes the expected media saturation, as well as an endless arc of tours and festivals and television performances. It is during the brief calm before the storm that Metal Hammer catches up with Slipknot, rehearsing their new set at Wells fargo Arena in downtown Des Moines.

Slipknot (left to right): Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan, Chris Fehn, Craig Jones, Joey Jordison, Paul Gray, Mick Thomson, James Root, Sid Wilson Corey Taylor

They say it’s what’s inside you that counts.

That’s what scares me.

It’s in all of us

It’s what binds us that makes us clash. It will happen again.

We’re twisted pieces of the same puzzle. Nine faces that speak with one voice.

The voice of madness…?

Is it normal to be practising in an arena? Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan (percussion): “It’s not normal, but it’s not surprising at the level we’re at. It was my idea to do this, to practise in the small room and get it tight, and then to come out here and get the feeling of the arena again. Otherwise, you’re practising in people’s houses, and we’re nine brothers. Imagine nine brothers with nine families and everybody running with different crews, and all having different morals and standards and spiritualities. Imagine that fuckin’ insanity. So this makes sense.”

Des Moines had a series of floods recently. Did they affect the band at all? Corey Taylor (vocals): “Not really. I spent a couple days running around saving my friends. Everybody I knew with the exception of just a couple people lived on the flood plain, so I was just going out and helping people get the fuck out of there. I had a house full of people for a week.”

For years now, there have been allegations that you guys all hate each other. Is the band still dysfunctional? Joey Jordison (drums): “Yeah, we are dysfunctional. But I mean, we all grew up together. Me and Mick [Thompson (sic), guitar] are like, best friends, and I used to detest that guy. We fuckin’ hated each other, man. And Shawn, me and him are probably the closest brothers in the whole band, but we probably get along the least because we love each other so much, and we control a lot of what goes on in Slipknot. We’re constantly butting heads. I remember right before Ozzfest, you could just cut the tension between me and him with a knife, it was so thick, and one day I left practice (sic) all pissed off, and I was saying, ‘Fuck off, I think I’m quitting.’ There we were, we just got the ticket, we were on our way to making it. That’s how fuckin’ stressed out we were. And literally – he’s a lot bigger than I am – Shawn flipped his kit over, came over to my drumset, ripped my stuff down and held me by the fuckin’ throat, and I grabbed his throat and went to punch him, and then the whole band dogpiled us. We’ve had lots of fights like that, real fistfights. But even though we still get into fights, we don’t let them last that long anymore. The band is just so intense. I mean, we’ve got nine extreme personalities here.”

That reminds me, on a scale on (sic) one to 10, how nuts is your DJ, Sid? He just told me that he’s a cyborg, and I think he really means it. Joey: “One to 10? Like, 13. Yeah, he’s crazy. You take 72 hits of acid in one weekend, it’s gonna fry your brain up a little bit.”

How do you guys balance all the side-projects with Slipknot? Joey: “It’s fuckin’ simple. Slipknot comes first.”

So it didn’t take any convincing to get everybody back to do a new album? Joey: “Well, it usually happens when the other bands sorta run their course. Certain people in the band decide not to do anything, they just chill out until the next Slipknot record. Me, I do a lot of work with other bands, but Slipknot’s my priority, and I’m glad to be back playing with these guys. The first day when we started rehearsal, usually people are laidback (sic), it was like headbang city man, and we were like, ‘Let’s just get out metal necks, let’s get that shit out of the way.’ It feels great, man. I’m happy.” Corey: “ I was completely stoked to do it. I’d actually started thinking of it and preparing for it on the Stone Sour tour. I just started filling notebooks with ideas. It got to the point where I had two notebooks full of stuff, and I was just ready to go. So as soon as the music was written and the demos started floating around, I was just like, ‘OK, this fits here and this fits here.’ I wasn’t rushing around to write lyrics, which a lot of guys do. I was very prepared and not only was I saying everything I wanted to say, but I was doing it in a way I was ecstatic about. I knew I wanted to go heavier, and I knew at the same time that I wanted to balance that with this melodic side that we had really tapped into. And the proof is there. I think this album is the best thing we’ve ever done, to be honest. I think it really shows the growth of the band and the maturity. But it’s still chaotic and heavy, but it’s still got those moments where you just go, ‘Holy fucking shit!’ Not only is it good, but the more you listen to it, the more you find. There’s a lot of layers, and that’s something that gets lost on a lot of people. There’s just so much thought and so much meaning behind everything we do. It’s not just shock for shock’s sake.”

What’s the theme for All Hope Is Lost (sic)? Umm, hopelessness by any chance? Corey: “It’s not a blatantly political or social album, and it’s not a blatantly angry album. I think the overwhelming theme, for me, is that none of us are the same, but none of us are different. We may change as people, but if we use the same energy to try and solve different problems, nothing is going to get accomplished. And that’s something that I think is lost on a lot of people.”

What was it like having Dave Fortman as a producer for this one? Joey: “Dave was great. It’s not like when we were recording with Rick Rubin – he was like an oracle. He would make these little tweaks from his house. He’d sit in this little library in his house, he’d sit there cross-legged with these prayer beads and he’d get a vibe, and he’d tell the engineer what to do. That was a weird way to record. But Dave, he was there every hour, every day. When we write songs, we tend to write really long like, [Metallica’s] …And Justice For All- type songs, nine or 10 minutes long. So we’d record the song like that, and Dave would help us chop it down. The thing with Dave is, that guy knows his tones. I finally got the best drum sound in my life. The guitar sound, the bass, the percussion… finally, we’ve got the Slipknot sound I’ve been wanting to hear my whole life.”

You’ve got new masks and new outfits, do you feel constrained at all by them? Corey: “No. We don’t only have these, but we have actual outfits that we put together ourselves. They’re still cohesive, but they’re a little more individualistic. We had started doing that on the last album. It’s part of our evolution. If you’re not evolving, you’re dying. No matter what the fucking fans on the websites say, nobody wants to see the same fucking shit over and over again. This time around, we felt it was very important that we are represented as individuals and not just as a band, as pieces of a puzzle. The new mask and outfits range from outrageous to very subtle. It’s a reflection of who we are. But we also kept the boiler suits, because we like to appear as a unit.”

You guys got saddled with the ‘nu metal’ tag early on. Obviously at this point you’ve overcome it… Corey: “There were a couple of bands that were good and that had a really good attitude. Snot comes to mind. That was an amazing band; I loved Snot. (hed)P.E. – their first couple of albums were amazing, because they had so much attitude, and it was so different. But then you had bands like Limp Wristed and all that crap, where it just got so watered down; the P.O.D.s, fuckin’ bands like that, where there was zero talent going on. It was frustrating being caught up in that, but at the same time, people don’t want to think outside of what they already know. They want their opinions forcefed (sic) to them. So if a magazine comes out and says we’re nu metal, than (sic) that’s what they’re going to say. It took us a long time to change people’s minds. We’re just a metal band. The people that wanted to write us off as a nu metal band weren’t our fans, they just didn’t know what to call us. We just got stronger and stronger and more willing to experiment and so they just didn’t know what we were. In that respect, we sort of created our own genre, and there’s a lot of bands that kinda take cues from us now. It’s kinda weird.”

Slipknot broke the ceiling for extreme metal bands making it in the mainstream. Did it shock you when it was happening? Corey: “At the time we didn’t even think about it, we were just real busy working. We were literally on the road for 18 months and saw home for maybe three weeks in that entire time. We were gone forever. But we knew that was going to happen, so we just put our heads down and did what we had to do, because we just refused to lose. So once we got that done we had time to take a breath. We were getting ready to start on the Iowa tour, and we just turned around and were like, ‘Woah! Look what we did. We’re fucking huge!’ We were playing this place that’s not even there anymore, it was called the Bronco Bowl in Dallas. It was set up like a mini-arena and it was just fucking gagged, fucking jammed with people. I remember walking out on stage and thinking, ‘Are we opening up for somebody? Where did all these fucking people come from?’ They knew every word, they knew everything, I remember coming off stage and just having this amazing smile on my face. I was like, ‘Something’s different. We’re not an opening band anymore.’ And I don’t think we’d ever be again, unless we were opening for somebody like Metallica. It was insane, it was probably the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life.” Joey: “It didn’t happen overnight, because we had to work so hard for it but… it happened overnight. We went on Ozzfest, and three weeks into it we’d sold 150,000 records. Every time we played, everybody – every fucking band, Black Sabbath included – was out there watching us. And we’re out for blood, we fucking hate everybody, just ‘Fuck you!’ That’s always been the Slipknot mentality. We love a lot of other bands, we love a lot of different music, but when it comes to us playing, we just don’t care. It’s your ass. People think it’s arrogant, and it is. We believe in our craft. We believe in Slipknot.”

The voice of the madness perhaps

It’s the nature of madness – it’s always searching for a brave face.

Always changing…

…always the same

It seeks its own martyrdom…

…and to be reborn

Yeah, very fucking profound. Don’t get mad, get eaten.

You want to give food for thought?

It’s just for the food for the maggots.

Th-that’s all, folks.

Is it tough accepting the fact that you have to wear a mask for the next year? Joey: “No, not at all. I’m ecstatic to be back and playing with the guys again. It’s home, man. We take breaks because Slipknot is not just music, it’s a force, it’s a lifestyle. It’s also like being in jail. You’re constricted. You have to be on your game every night to be in this band. The stuff is not easy to play anyway, but we’ve got the whole stage performance, playing in masks, it’s what every band goes through, but with nine guys it’s very intense. I mean, look at this – all nine guys are still together. All nine original guys are still here. What other band can say that?”

So, has anybody ever tried to get out? Joey: “No, no one ever has. That’s why at the end of a 15-month tour cycle, we’re just like, let’s take a break, work on some other projects, just relieve a little stress. But when we come back to Slipknot, it’s on, man. There’s no fucking around.”

So what can we expect from this next tour? Clown: “For one thing, we’re musical, man. I play the fucking drums, so get used to it. I’ve earned the right, I’ve done the time, I’ve been on the mountain with the kung fu masters, learning. If you can’t accept that, go play with the kids’ toys. I’ve worked really hard on my art for this one. I got my boy-scout medals and I’m in the deep woods with no tools, no tent, no nothing, and we’re playing survival, man. Just know that I’m the guy who eats the fucking shit raw, man. If there’s an animal, I’ll fucking eat it. This is fucking Slipknot. That’s what you can fucking expect.”

Is Slipknot meant to last forever, or do you have to write the end of this story? Clown: “You nailed it, man. I am in more pain than anyone could possibly ever know, because I have to find a way to finish this.” Joey: “I don’t think it’s our last record at all, but there’s something seriously going on with this record, that’s for sure. It’s like Friday the 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter. It’s a climax.”

Is Slipknot like Kiss, where you could lose a member and just find somebody else to wear his mask? Clown: “No. If I left this band, we’d be done. If Joey Jordison left this band, we’d be done. All of us, if any of the guys in this band leave… See, it’s been out of our hands for a long time, since 1998. The world is just too dumb, too anti-art, to realise how important this is, to actually accept the truth that yes, if I left the band it’d be over. There could never be a drummer to replace me, man. We are The Nine. There is no one else.”

Nine long, tense, and occasionally violent hours later, Slipknot begin to slink out into the inky-black, dead-still Des Moines night. It’s a mere week until they begin headlining the Mayhem tour in the States, and that’s just the beginning. Once this album hits the streets, it is unlikely that any of them will see their homes again for at least a year, and probably longer. Although the band harbours the expected anxieties about their long-awaited return to the metal arena, the sprawling expansive All Hope Is Gone will probably be their biggest album ever. At this point the eldest members of the band are now approaching 40, while their fanbase still hovers around 18, and that’s the same sort of 18 Alice Cooper once sang about: the confused, angry, half-a-boy, half-a-man kind.

If any of The Nine hoped to escape their fates as the ringleaders of the tormented, those hopes are now dashed.

“Man, it’s fucking embarrassing,” Clown admitted earlier, when we asked him how it felt to be a dad playing teen-rage anthems.

“I’m just glad I’m not alone in this, with this fucking-metal-fucking-arena-rock-fucking-stage-pass-interview-fucking-photoshoot shit. I don’t care about it. Yes, my art has grown into a way of life, yes, there’s a lot of people that live their lives by it, but I’ve always told people, I don’t want to be on the cover of Metal Hammer, I want to be on the cover of National Geographic. I’ve always said that. I’m gonna be on the cover of Metal Hammer anyway, because that’s just what I fucking do. But I want to take you all on another journey, a fucking life journey, a painful journey. There’s a reason why Slipknot gets the people we get: because they’re lost. They’re lost, and they find their way to us. It’s like a cult, man,” he says, staring a hole right through us.

“A cult of fucking pain.”

There are those who say hope springs eternal. They have obviously never spent a day with Slipknot.

A Stitch In Time

A bluffer’s guide to The Nine.

92: Drummer Shawn Crahan and bassist Paul Gray begin playing in a band together.

95: Joey Jordison joins Shawn and Paul, form Meld with guitarists Donnie Steele and Josh Brainard, and singer Anders Colsefini.

96: Donnie leaves the band due to religious beliefs and is replaced by Craig Jones. Meld change their name to Slipknot and begin wearing grotesque make-up and costumes. Craig Jons switches to sampler and Mick Thomson joins on guitar. Slipknot release their first self-released album, Mate.Feel.Kill.Repeat., on Halloween.

97: Corey Taylor replaces Anders on vocals. Chris Fehn joins the band as percussionist. Slipknot start wearing their trademark boiler suits and numbers.

98: DJ Sid Wilson joins the band. They sign to Roadrunner Records.

99: On June 29, the band releases Slipknot, their ‘official’ debut album, and join the Ozzfest tour.

00: Slipknot is certified Platinum.

01: Slipknot release their second album, Iowa, and do the Ozzfest tour again.

02: The band take a break, Corey Taylor revives Stone Sour, Joey Jordison forms Murderdolls. Slipknot attempt to write a follow-up to Iowa, but struggle with inner-band conflicts. Rumours of the band’s imminent break-up start to circulate in the media.

03: Slipknot rally and begin recording new album with producer Rick Rubin.

04: Vol. 3: (The Subliminal Verses) is released. It quickly goes Platinum. Yet another Ozzfest tour follows.

06: Slipknot win their first Grammy award in the category of Best Metal Performance for Before I Forget. Voliminal: Inside The Nine, a self-produced DVD documentary, is released.

08: All Hope Is Gone released. Chaos ensues.

Project Revolution

Slipknot members are known for their many side projects. Here’s a crib sheet.

Stone Sour

Corey Taylor (vocals) Jim Root (guitar Stone Sour were formed back in 1992 by Corey Taylor and have existed in one form or another ever since. The alt-metal/grunge band have released two albums on Roadrunner Records (Stone Sour in 2002 and Come What(ever) May in 2006), and have been nominated for a Grammy award three times. The band are currently on hold in light of the new Slipknot record, but plans for a third album are in the works.

Murderdolls

Joey Jordison (drums (sic)) A horror-themed glam-punk band with a penchant for fishnet tights and make-up formed in 2002 by Joey Jordison, the Murderdolls also featured former Frankenstein Drag Queens frontman Wednesday 13. The band released their debut album, Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls in 2002 and played together sporadically over the next two years. The band are currently on hiatus, and when asked about the possibility of further recordings, Joey stated: “There might be another album. We’re thinking about it.”

Ministry, etc

Joey Jordison (drums) During his off-hours, Joey keeps busy by filling in on drums for several notable acts, including nu metal pioneers Korn, who he played with at the 2007 Download Festival, Metallica, (Download 2004), and Ministry, who he toured with in the summer of 2006.

DJ Starscream

Sid Wilson Sid Wilson’s day job is as a leading Jungle musician. As Starscream he’s released a host of singles and remixes on the Japanese label N20.

Dirty Little Rabbits

Shawn Crahan (drums) Shawn’s other side-project is a swirly mix of psychedelia and 90s style alt-rock. The band has yet to release an album. Dirty Little Rabbits supported Stone Sour on their 2006-07 US tour.

Dum Fux

Corey Taylor (guitar, vocals) A tongue-in-cheek cover band that plays everything from Flock Of Seagulls to The Stooges. Current status: active.

Audacious P

Corey Taylor (vocals, guitar) Perhaps the world’s only Tenacious D cover band. Currently on hiatus.

To My Surprise

Shawn Crahan (drums) A sun-dappled 60s rock-style band, To My Surprise were signed to Roadrunner Records and released their debut, self-titled album in 2003. It was executive produced by Rick Rubin. The band are on hiatus.

Roadrunner United

Joey Jordison (drums) Paul Gray (bass) Jim Root (guitar) This was a one-off album project put together to celebrate Roadrunner Records’ 25th anniversary. Roadrunner United featured 18 ‘supergroups’ made up of various Roadrunner alumni. Slipknot’s Joey, Jim and Paul played on several of the tracks, along with Type O Negative’s Pete Steele, King Diamond guitarist Andy LaRocque, and Cradle Of Filth bassist Dave Pybus, among others. The Roadrunner United album was released in 2005.

[arwainian]

Reading This Week 2024 #31

hello hello! I listened to a Lot of audiobooks this past week, to the point where I'm like "that can't be right. i can't have read that much" but i did. i in fact Mostly read this week because i didn't have many other plans, but i accomplished something fun, which was reading the additional chapters of some academic texts i read a portion of for school reasons last year

Finished:

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle, audiobook read by Mara Wilson follows a girl in a sort faux-Mormon Christian cult who is being haunted by a demon that punishes her for thinking gay thoughts. it got it's job done, but personally, since I already had my Big Gay Feelings about leaving the church, and felt those very viscerally, I always find myself pretty much ambivalent to fiction that is trying to tell that story? i already lived that so anything that puts it down on page just doesn't live up to the experience

How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe by Charles Yu, audiobook read by James Yaegashi I liked where the experimental style of this went around the middle, with large blank pages and long footnotes. sort meh on it otherwise but its did its "introspective scifi about having to live your own life" job just fine

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo, read by Cindy Kay cool to check this out a few years after all the hype for it, the fictional history it tells makes your heart ache

Extravagant Abjection: Blackness, Power, and Sexuality in the African American Literary Imagination by Darieck Scott I think I got the most for my work out of the sections I read last year, but it was good to get the context of the rest of the book to see what Scott is arguing as a whole work

Nimona by N.D. Stevenson wow! Stevenson's art just harmonizes so perfectly with the story he's telling here

"Theorizing Yes: An Essay on Feminism, Law, and Desire" by Katherine M. Franke in Feminist and Queer Legal Thory: Intimate Encounters, Uncomfortable Conversations edited by Martha Albertson Fineman et al.

The Appeal by Janice Hallett, audiobook read by Daniel Philpott, Aysha Kala, Rachel Adedeji, & Sid Sagar such a fun ride! I read this on a recommendation from some dear friends and I'm very glad I did. Absolutely sings in audiobook format so I accidentally dedicated a whole day to it... whoops! it was great tho and I'm excited to check out Hallett's other mysteries

The Battle for Paradise: Puerto Rico Takes on the Disaster Capitalists by Naomi Klein, audiobook read by Erin Bennett

Saga, Chapter Sixty-Seven written by Brain K. Vaughn, illustrated by Fiona Staples I just so happened to go to two comicbook stores the day after this issue released, completely unaware that it was back from it's short hiatus. so excited to see more of the character from the last page

Blooming Into You, Vol. 1 by Nakatani Nio, translated by Jenny McKeon what an interesting approach to a lesbian love story. insta-love for the older girl, slow burn for the younger

"The Impossibility of Feminism" by Andrea Long Chu

Side Affects: On Being Trans and Feeling Bad by Hil Malatino, audiobook read by the author also an academic work i was finishing after reading a few chapters last year. when i read it last year i was a little "hmm i dont think this feeling is as trans specific as it is being made out to be" but i think the other chapters make a better arguments for these bad trans feelings

Started/Ongoing:

Foucault, Feminism, and Sex Crimes: An Anti-Carceral Analysis by Chloë Taylor

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg (mostly just found the point I had read up to for school a few years back)

[brokehorrorfan]

Bone Tomahawk will be released on Steelbook Blu-ray + DVD on October 24 via RLJE Films. This edition of the 2015 horror-western was previously only available as a Walmart exclusive.

S. Craig Zahler (Brawl in Cell Block 99) writes and directs. Kurt Russell stars with Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons, Richard Jenkins, Evan Jonigkeit, Kathryn Morris, Sid Haig, David Arquette, and Fred Melamed.

Existing special features are included. They're listed below, where you can also see more of the Steelbook artwork.

Special features:

Making-of featurette

Fantastic Fest Q&A

Deleted scene

Poster gallery

When a group of cannibal savages kidnaps settlers from the small town of Bright Hope, an unlikely team of gunslingers, led by Sheriff Franklin Hunt (Kurt Russell), sets out to bring them home. But their enemy is more ruthless than anyone could have imagined, putting their mission – and survival itself – in serious jeopardy.

Pre-order Bone Tomahawk.

[jimsbeetroot]

I WANT SID SMUT PLEASE 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 ♱ 𝐬𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧

since sid is a whole ass dad now, here’s some fluffy, domestic, vanilla smut, because why not?

words; 2113

summary; sid and reader enjoy a quiet morning together, seizing the moment before their baby awakes

warnings! fingering, dirty talk (but make it fluffy) a sickly happy family hehe

-

THE SOFT MORNING LIGHT filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bedroom. You blinked awake, slowly registering the warmth and comfort of the bed beneath you. For a moment, you wondered what had stirred you from sleep—until you heard it.

“Love?”

Sid’s voice was a gentle murmur. You turned your head, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. He was sitting up in bed, propped against the pillows, his hair slightly tousled, his face illuminated by the early light. He wasn’t watching television like he sometimes did in the mornings. Instead, his focus was entirely on you, a smile playing on his lips as he watched you stir.

You opened your eyes more fully, feeling the remnants of sleep slip away. The clock on the nightstand read 07:53. You blinked again, and a wave of realization hit you—it was late, and the house was eerily quiet.

No cries, no baby babble, no rustling sounds from the nursery.

Sid’s smile widened as he noticed the look of surprise on your face. “He’s still asleep,” Sid whispered as if saying it too loudly might shatter the fragile peace of the morning.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you found yourself smiling back at him. It was such a rare gift these days—mornings where you didn’t wake to the sound of your seven-month-old son needing you. You loved him more than words could say, but moments like these, when you could just be with Sid, were precious. And you both knew it.

“Good morning, my love,” Sid said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He shifted closer, his body heat seeping into you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. The sensation of his bare chest against your skin was intoxicating, familiar yet always thrilling.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, your voice soft and still heavy with sleep. You nuzzled into him, inhaling his scent, a mix of warmth and something distinctly Sid that you could never quite describe. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if he couldn’t get enough of the simple contact. He held you close, his arm strong and protective around you, and you let yourself relax completely into his hold. For a few blissful moments, you simply lay there, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten.

“I can’t believe he’s still asleep,” you murmured, your words muffled against Sid’s chest.

“I know,” Sid replied, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back. “It’s like a miracle.”

You giggled softly and gazed up at Sid with a smirk. “We should probably enjoy it while it lasts.”

Sid chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I plan to,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid down to rest on your hip, his touch sending a jolt of anticipation through you.

You felt a surge of affection for him, this man who had become not only your husband but the father of your child, your partner in every sense of the word. The past months had been a whirlwind—nights spent soothing a crying baby, mornings filled with laughter and the occasional tear, the constant balancing act of parenthood. But through it all, Sid had been your rock, your steady anchor.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and the love in his gaze was enough to make your heart swell. He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise. You sighed into the kiss, your body responding instantly to the warmth and familiarity of his touch.

Sid’s hand slid under the hem of your shorts, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thigh. His touch was light, teasing, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you. It had been a while since you’d had the luxury of a slow morning like this, where you could take your time and savour each other.

As if sensing your thoughts, Sid deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made your toes curl. You moaned softly, your body pressing closer to his as you melted into the kiss.

Sid’s hand moved higher, slipping under your shorts to caress your skin. His fingers skimmed the curve of your stomach, lingering for a moment on the slight softness that remained from your pregnancy. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, his touch was reverent, as if he loved every inch of you just as you were.

“You’re so beautiful,” Sid murmured against your lips, his voice filled with sincerity. “God, I can’t get enough of you.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, running your hand over his broad shoulders, down the hard planes of his chest.

Sid’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed over his chest, and you could feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he tried to maintain control.

“Do you remember our first morning together after he was born?” Sid asked suddenly, his voice husky with emotion. “We were both so tired, but we just laid there, holding him between us, staring at him like he was the most amazing thing we’d ever seen.”

You nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you remembered that moment. It had been magical—exhausting, overwhelming, but magical. And now, seven months later, you still couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have this little family with Sid.

“I do remember,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love you and him.”

Sid’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I feel the same way,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “Every day with you and our little guy… it’s like a dream come true.”

Your heart swelled with love, and you reached up to cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender as if you were both savoring the connection you shared. Sid responded eagerly, his lips moving against yours in a dance that was familiar yet always exciting.

As the kiss deepened, Sid’s hand moved to the hem of your shorts, slowly pushing it up until it was bunched around your waist. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your skin, but the warmth of Sid’s body more than made up for it.

He broke the kiss to look down at you, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you laid out beneath him. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. You blushed, your heart racing at the intensity of his gaze. “Sid…”

He didn’t say anything else, just leaned down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, his hand moving between your thighs to tease you through your underwear. You gasped into his mouth, your body arching towards his touch, the slow burn of arousal spreading through you.

Sid’s fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles that had you moaning in seconds. “Fuck,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand as the pleasure built, each stroke of his fingers sending sparks of electricity through you.

He watched you with hooded eyes, his breathing ragged as he continued to tease you, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and you felt yourself quickly spiralling towards the edge.

“Please,” you gasped, your voice breathless as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Sid, I need you…”

Sid groaned at your words, his cock twitching against your thigh as he leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. “God, you're amazing,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice filled with urgency.

With one swift motion, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slid them down your legs, tossing them to the floor. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated core, but Sid quickly replaced the sensation with the warmth of his hand, his fingers sliding between your folds to coat them in your arousal.

“You’re so wet,” Sid whispered, his voice thick with desire as he continued to tease you, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had you squirming beneath him. He smiled at you and watched carefully how you reacted to his every touch.

You whimpered, your body arching towards his touch as you felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core. “Sid, please…”

He smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love and lust as he finally slid one finger inside you, his touch gentle yet firm. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as he began to move, his finger curling inside you to hit that perfect spot that had you seeing stars.

Sid watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face as he added a second finger, stretching you just enough to make you moan. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he watched you writhe beneath him. “So fucking good.”

You could barely form a coherent thought, the pleasure building inside you like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over you at any moment. “Sid,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

Sid’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he watched the pleasure ripple across your face, but just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you breathless and yearning for his touch.

Your eyes followed his movements as he shed his boxers, revealing his hard cock, and your heart skipped a beat in anticipation. Sid crawled on top of you and positioned himself above you, his elbows braced on either side of your face as he dipped down to kiss you deeply, the passion between you igniting into something hotter, more urgent.

“Ready?” Sid asked, his voice a mixture of tenderness and desire as he lined himself up at your entrance. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, the words barely leaving your lips before Sid began to ease into you, his thick length stretching you. Even after all these years together, the sensation of his cock in you still made you weak, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped you.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his bicep as you looked up into his eyes, finding nothing but love and lust staring back at you. Sid nuzzled your face affectionately, his lips grazing the tip of your nose in a sweet gesture.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his concern evident even as his own need for you pulsed between your bodies. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the overwhelming pleasure of having him so close, so intimately entwined with you. Sid began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending a wave of pleasure through you. But as the intensity built, his movements became more urgent, more desperate, and you clung to him as if he were your lifeline.

“Fuck, you're good,” Sid groaned, his voice thick with emotion as he buried his face in your hair, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. “So fucking good.”

Your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, and when he finally pushed you over the edge, you cried out his name, your voice filled with nothing but pure, unadulterated bliss. Sid followed you seconds later, his own release coming with a deep, satisfied moan that seemed to reverberate through your entire being.

Exhausted and content, Sid waited a few moments before pulling out of you gently and collapsing onto his back beside you. You lay there for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the reality of the moment slowly settling in.

Sid reached for you again, drawing you into his arms in a tender embrace, his body curving around yours protectively. “How did I get so lucky?” he murmured, his voice full of wonder as he held you close, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

[fritz-federleicht]

hello how are you I hope you are well

well I don't know if the applications are still open but hey 😺😺😺

I don't know if you can do one of Joey Jordison from Slipknot who is a reader but more going to a male reader where the reader plays the bass (he plays the same as the babymetal bassist and if you don't know him look for kami band from babymetal) and Joey is impressed by the shape what touches and well that if you want to add or remove something is fine 😻😻😘😘

With reader who's in a band/ Slipknot x reader (+ Tortilla)

Notes: Thanks for your request. I got a similar one at Wattpad and combined it with this one. And sorry for the late reply

Words: 1158

-----------------------------------------

Sid:

- you both have the same energy, you're completely psyched

- you're playing guitar and it occurs to you to jump into the crowd right now

- so you immediately throw the guitar away, no matter if the melody is missing now, you set your mind to crowd surfing NOW

- infinite pictures are taken, from every possible perspective

- later newspapers compare Sid and you

- Sid quickly offers to jump into the crowd with you at your next concert

- you're so happy about it

- at your next concert, at some point you look to the side where Sid is standing, he is wearing his mask and looking at you attentively

- he waits for your signal

- you nod weakly and put your guitar aside

- Sid jumps on stage, the crowd goes crazy

- he takes your hand and counts to three, then you jump

- the singer of your band looks after you confused, then to your place

- he shakes his head with a grin and stops singing. The tune continues to play in the background. "Pay attention guys. Y/N is out there on the road." He points to you. "And who else is with you?" He frowns. "Oh it's Sid from Slipknot."

- the band continues to play without you

- at some point you arrive back at the stage, Sid helps you down from the people

- "Love you." You kiss his cheek. "I have to go now."

- "You're doing wonderful. I love you." He replies

- you get up on stage and keep playing like you've never been away

- some would say you're a crazy couple, but you complement each other perfectly

Joey:

- you are the bass player in a successful band

- Joey especially loves the festival time, that's when you see each other the most

- at your gigs he stands at the side and just stares at you

- he blocks out everyone, the audience, the other band members, the crew....

- you are the only thing that interests him at that moment, you could say that you have captivated him with your playing

- the light seems to shine only on you, puts you in the center of attention

- while playing your bass you bend back slightly, close your eyes and play instinctively, your fingers glide elegantly over the strings

- of course Joey knows this from Mick, Jim and Paul, the three of them never look at their instrument while playing and can still play it perfectly

- but with you it is somehow something else

- he just loves to watch you move and give yourself over to the music

- he especially loves the red, pink color of your bass, it matches perfectly with his two strands of dyed hair

- you never told him but you chose that color specifically because it matches Joey's hair

Mike:

- you're the singer

- Mike is a funny guy, he once talked you into taking a tortilla on stage, not saying anything and just throwing it into the crowd

- you were really embarrassed, but it was funny

- the people were confused

- you could hear Mike's laughter from the background, he filmed everything

- he immediately posts the video on his Instagram channel and links you and your band, he always does this

- in the middle of the concert you finally revealed why you threw the tortilla into the crowd

- he loves it that you go along with his bullshit

- also he always tries to convince Slipknot to do a collaboration with your band, but he's always unsuccessful

Jim:

- for a while now you've just been in the studio writing lyrics and singing them in

- Jim is getting worried

- the last songs your band released were not as successful as you hoped, you want the next ones to be the complete opposite

- when you are at home you talk about nothing else but the songs, he notices how overworked you are

- at some point he decides to force you to take a break. And not only because you are stressed but also because he misses you in his arms

- so one day Jim visits you in the studio and announces that you are going to the sea

- at first you refuse

- quickly he can talk you into conscience, it is better for your health

- you agree and the very next day you're lying on the beach

- you are glad to have given up, a break is really good for you

- when you're back in the studio a couple of days later you use your vacation as inspiration and write the next number one song

Mick:

- he loves that you play guitar too

- so you can practice and talk together

- when you met for the first time he was enthusiastic about you

- you got him into a conversation about guitars

- he was quite pleased, it's not every day you meet a person who has as much passion for it as he does

- Mick hates it when you go on tour, of course he is happy for your success, but he is so far away from you

- so he visits you as often as possible

- often he stands on the edge of the stage where nobody can see him and admires you

- it makes him happy to watch you play, how you touch the single threads concentratedly

- he thinks every time how you practiced the songs together

Corey:

- Corey knows from experience how stressful it is in the business

- that's why he's worried about you

- you are one of the most famous drummers, you try to outdo yourself at every concert

- your concert is over, Slipknot is supposed to perform right after it

- you leave the stage, immediately Corey comes to you and asks like an overprotective mother how you are doing

- "Babe have you had enough to drink?" "You need some sleep. Go lay down for a minute." "When was the last time you ate something Y/N?"

- "Corey I was just banging on some drums."

- he looks at you in bewilderment. "Y/N I know you're talented and know your way around the drums, but this is a tough job. You do more than me. I just sing."

- You laugh. "Like that's not just as exhausting?"

- "Just rest okay?" He asks you

- "Only if you join me later." He nods. "Oh and Corey? Please tell Joey the meeting is on tomorrow."

- "What meeting?" Corey asks with a slight hint of jealousy

- "We want to exchange ideas. He's using new sticks."

- Corey nods. "I'll tell him. See you later babe." He kisses your forehead. "I have to go now."

- he turns and runs onto the stage, greeting the audience

- you look at Joey who's beating a drum to the beat

- he looks at you and waves

- you wave back and watch the band for a moment, then go to the tour bus to rest

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"The SDPC [Social Democractic Party of Canada] at the Lakehead appears not to have been content merely to contest elections. In 1912, having recently formed a union, the mostly immigrant workers of the Canadian Northern Coal and Ore Dock Company went on strike for better wages, hours, and working conditions. Bloodshed resulted when company officials, using local police and the militia, tried to suppress the striking coal handlers. The chief of police, two constables, and two Italian strikers were wounded. Fearing a general strike, the CNR quickly acquiesced to the demands of the coal handlers.

There was much in this incident that recalled earlier labour strife at the Lakehead. A new element, however, was the growing influence of radical socialists, who were thought to have sway over the coal handlers and to have been instrumental in their inclusion in the trade union movement. Prominent among the activists were “members of the Social Democratic Party of Canada,” including the party’s organizers for Port Arthur and Fort William, the Cobalt miners’ union leader James P. McGuire and the Reverend William Madison Hicks, as well as Herbert Barker, a volunteer organizer for the AFL. In April 1912, the three men led a number of English-speaking socialists in Fort William in establishing Ontario Local 51 of the SDPC. Initial members also included W.J. Carter; an architect named Richard Lockhead; Sid Wilson, a member of the British-based Amalgamated Carpenters; and Fred Moore, owner of the printing press that printed Urry’s The Wage Earner. Significantly, most of the members appear to have been Finnish or Ukrainian. Before the strike, members of the Fort William SDPC had spoken at meetings of the coal handlers and, in the case of Hicks, played an active role by leading a parade of workers in confronting Port Arthur mayor S.W. Ray on his way to read the Riot Act to the strikers. The meeting between the two men and the violence that ensued were coincidental, according to Morrison, as

the Social Democratic party posed no real or imagined menace to the citizens of Port Arthur … what alarmed the English-speaking community was the newly won influence of the socialists with the immigrant workers.

Supporters of the ILP [Independent Labour Party] of New Ontario such as Urry found themselves “at odds with radical socialism” as

not only had the socialists played a prominent part in the strike, though not the riot, but they were also attempting to organize Thunder Bay’s entire waterfront.

...

Calls for Hicks’s arrest began to appear in newspapers in both cities and the surrounding countryside. On 1 August 1912, officials arrested him for his role in a “tumultuous assembly … likely to promote a breach of the public peace.” Shortly after Hicks’s arrest and conviction (although he received a suspended sentence), SDPC organizers began an active campaign to take control, or at the very least undermine, the ILP-led Trades and Labour Councils. Following the strike, they sought to stage a general strike on the waterfront and, ideally, spread it throughout both Port Arthur and Fort William. As Jean Morrison writes, however, this was “a move disparaged by the British labour men for its disregard of the law which required negotiations and conciliation preceding strikes by transportation workers.” The attempt failed and widened the rift formed during the municipal, provincial, and federal elections of 1908 and 1911 and the labour unrest earlier in 1912.

...

The SDPC was also not left untouched. In preparation for the 1913 Fort William civic election, Urry and Hicks jointly developed in opposition to the SDPC a manifesto describing the class struggle in general and the issues facing the region’s workers in particular .... On the recommendation of the Elk Lake, Porcupine, and Cobalt locals that Hicks be expelled, the matter was referred to the Fort William membership. Despite facing the possibility that its charter would be revoked, Local 51 refused to expel Hicks and launched a vigorous defence on his behalf. The convincing agitator had a coterie of true believers, who “defended him to the last ditch refusing to believe that Hicks would do anything wrong.” He also had his critics, evidently including the 400-strong Fort William branch, which, it appears, sided with the Dominion Executive and expelled Hicks.

...

With Hicks departed one highly personalized version of a response to the ambiguous legacy of Lakehead socialism. Both the ILP and the SDPC grew rapidly during 1913. The labour councils in the twin cities began to discuss unity, in the form of construction of a joint Central Labour Temple. The Finnish branch of the SDPC in Port Arthur also called out for working-class and socialist unity. Moreover, as a more tangible indication of potential unification of the socialist and labour movements, SDPC organizer Herbert Barker was elected president of the Port Arthur Trades and Labour Council in April 1913. As so often proved to be the case, however, such incipient unity was challenged by the region’s sheer class volatility. The strike by street railway workers in May 1913 was a volcanic moment. As David Bercuson writes:

The walk-out provided a focal point for much of the hatred and bitterness that had developed between labour and its enemies in the twin cities for several years.

Rioting and violence were sparked by the CPR’s attempts to use strikebreakers. When strikers overturned a streetcar operated by strikebreakers, police arrested one of the participants and, when a crowd tried to get him out of jail, fired into the crowd, killing a bystander. Local newspapers tried to pin the violence on the socialists, who were allegedly responsible for agitating the crowd. The railway workers belonged to the Trades and Labour Councils in both cities and, in a show of solidarity, both councils called for a general sympathy strike. These calls went unheeded and most workers returned to work after four days of protest. In response, Urry, James Booker, McGuire, Bryan, and many members of the SDPC met at the Finnish Labour Temple. They criticized the local trades and labour councils “for not being radical enough to resist the ruling of an unscrupulous upper class.” They hoped the councils would become “more radical.” Not surprisingly, the obviously inflamed right-wing media in the twin cities characterized the meeting as one of “sedition, anarchy, socialism, violence and most everything else calculated to worry orderly society and responsible government.” It was not a critique of the Lakehead workers reserved for the mainstream press. Mayor John Oliver of Port Arthur summed up the situation well when he argued that the continued unrest in Port Arthur and Fort William was not wholly due to working conditions. Making specific mention of the strikes of 1909, 1912, and 1913, he suggested that the unrest had been the result of socialist agitators. Oliver wrote:

There is hardly a night in the week that inflammatory speeches have not been made by several agitators … something will have to be done to either remove them or check their actions.

Interestingly, Frederick Urry and J.P. McGuire were specifically named for their alleged advocacy of a general strike. McGuire was further singled out for his reputed suggestion that it would be an easy thing to cut telephone, telegraph, and electric lines."

- Michel S. Beaulieu, Labour at the Lakehead: Ethnicity, Socialism, and Politics, 1900-35. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2011. p. 37-38, 40-42

[issie-https]

𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mick Thomson X Reader(platonic)

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: No

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: N/a

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Mentions of blood, emotional exhaustion and injury

𝐀/𝐧: Guess who’s back, back again!! Sorry for the lack of uploads, I’ve had a tad bit of writers block but I’m here with some hurt for y’all!(also fluffy at the end🫶) **NOT PROOFREAD**

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

I flung the door to my apartment open and kicked my heels off as I slammed the door back closed. I'd been laid off from my job after five years after the company went bankrupt. I let the tears stream down my face as I stormed through the house. It wasn't a big, flashy job but it kept me on my feet, I could barely afford my apartment but I was still living there and I could afford a good meal now and then so I wasn't bad off.

I picked up a shitty vase and threw it at the wall, I wasn't thinking, I had no idea what I was doing. Shards of glass went flying, some hitting me as the rest just surrounded me. I wasn't thinking about the burning on my legs as I went over to the shitty dinner table and threw everything on it at the wall before punching a hole in the crappy, thin wood. I finally let the tears run down my cheeks as I went into the kitchen - I slid down the fridge and sat on the floor. It was at that moment, I realised I had stood on glass - the blood trail was dark, signalling it wasn't just a small shard of glass.

My cries grew as the pain and burning came to my realisation. I could feel the blood running down my legs and gushing out my foot at a slow rate. I picked up my foot and put it on my lap as I evaluated the cut - it wasn't so bad to the point that I'd die but it wasn't just a little scratch either. I cried louder as I thought about how I'd most likely end up homeless by the end of the month. I had no second option for a job, I had no idea what to do — I didn't want to ask any friends for help because I didn't want to seem needy or dependent on anyone. In my friend group, I've always been seen as the independent one - the mother of the group - every time one of the girls or guys got hurt, I'd always be there with a bandaid and a hug. Every time they went through a bad breakup, I'd be at their door with comforting words, shitty comedy movies and two tubs of ice cream.

I threw my head back against the fridge door, letting out groans and screams in annoyance. I had no idea what to do, where to go, who to talk to or which way is forward. I wanted to pick myself up off the floor, clean my foot up, tell myself to grow a pair, send out my resume and get a job. But I couldn't move - my body felt like it was frozen to the spot, the only movements I was making was the shivering and gasps as I cried. My chest felt heavy as I lay down on the kitchen floor, the cold tiles were in contrast to my burning skin. I felt my eyelids become heavy as I slowly drifted off into a slumber.

༺time skip༻

I woke up and looked at the clock on my oven, it read 1:27am. The kitchen was now engulfed in darkness, the night had eaten the city alive and dowsed the sky in stars. I crawled over to where the light switch was and pulled myself up using the counter. I was met by the bloody sight of my past foot prints and the small puddle where my foot had been sat while I was asleep. I hopped over to the sink, dampened a cloth and tried to clean the blood off the kitchen floor. Much to my dismay, it only smeared the blood opposed to cleaning it up. I could feel myself getting upset again as the tears started rolling down my cheeks. Every so often, a tear would land in the blood and mix.

I couldn't think again, but at the same time, I was only thinking. How to clean up the blood, how to get a job - where to get a job even. I gave up in cleaning and just left the cloth on the floor and slouched against the cupboards. I needed help, physical help, mental help. No one was here for me.

That was until I heard the front door lock click and the light from the hallway lit up the entrance to my apartment. I could see someone's shadow, it was tall. Possibly James or Mick.

I was right, Mick walked into the living room as glass crunched under his boots. He flicked on the living room light and his face contorted into both confusion and worry at the sight. "Y/n?" He yelled. "I'm in... the kitchen," I rasped as I raised my voice so he could hear me. "What happened?" He asked comfortingly. "Nothing," I said, rubbing my eyes to stop myself from crying. “Y/n, you’re covered in blood, so is the floor. There’s broken vases and a hole in your table. Don’t pull that ‘nothing’ bullshit now,” he stated as he walked into the kitchen. “I stood on glass,” I said as I looked at him. He came and sat down next to me and pulled me into his chest, “let me see.” I nodded slightly and pulled away from his grip. I turned and showed him the bottom of my foot. “How long has it been like this?” He asked. “Since… eleven roughly,” I replied, I was still trying to catch my breath as everything was a little blurry and my head was starting to pound. He inspected the cut before standing up, “where’s the first aid kit?”. “Next to the medicine cupboard,” I choked out. He grabbed the kit and sat back down in front of my foot and pulled it onto his lap, making me lie flat on the floor. “Okay, I want you to take deep breaths because I have to pull the glass out and sterilise it,” he spoke as he put a little pressure around the area. I took a deep breath in and as I was about to breathe out, he pulled the glass out - I screamed as tears began streaming out of my eyes again. The pain was like stamping on a million needles covered in barbed wire. He applied pressure with some gauze and wrapped my foot up in a bandage. “You won’t need stitches - thank god - but keep an eye on it,” he smiled as he secured it. “Thanks, Mick,” I gave a weak smile back. “Let’s get you in bed,” he said as he picked me up. “No, I’ve gotta clean,” I furrowed my brows as he walked over the broken glass and to my bedroom. “I’ll clean tomorrow, the others will help - I’m sure of it,” he comforted me. “But I ma-“ he cut me off by saying, “I know but I don’t care. You’re injured so I will clean.”

I’m so thankful for Mick, he’s never hurt me. None of the others have but Mick is always the first one to notice if I’m not okay. He’s always the first one to check on me.

He placed me on my bed, went over to my closet and pulled out two shirts. He held them up to me and I pointed at the right one - it was a Guns N’ Roses band shirt. “Do you still sleep in a shirt and underwear or do you wear pyjama bottoms?” He asked. “Depends if you’re staying over - I don’t wanna seem weird,” I replied. “You’re the weirdest person I know and there’s some competition with Sid there. So fuck it, undies or bottoms?” He laughed. “I usually just sleep in a shirt and my underwear,” I laughed back. He nodded and briefly exited the room, coming back with a pair of his pyjama bottoms in hand. All my friends - guys and girls - have stayed at my place at least once so the spare room is filled with their clothes from past visits.

Mick got into bed next to me and pulled me into his chest as he rubbed circles on the small of my back. “You okay now?” He whispered. I mumbled an ‘mhm’ and snuggled into him. I felt myself drift off to sleep, this time, my chest had butterflies and I had a smile on my face. I was happy.

[h34vym3t4ll0v3r]

imagine going to a family dinner and you just see sid wilson and ozzy osbourne pull up to the function

[nu-metal-confessions]

Sid Wilson said he would always be the one to sew up any rips and faults in the bands masks in the early days because he's the only one in the band that knows how to sew so imagine you rip your favorite piece of clothing and Sid sews it up for you without you even asking him to :') or maybe you have a stuffed animal that you've had since you were a kid and you take it everywhere even as an adult and it gets a hole in it or something and you tell Sid about it because you're really sad and he takes it from you and sews it up behind your back and then returns it to you without you noticing waaaahh i know everyone always sees Sid as a crazy little rat but i think he'd be such a casual sweetheart too and just does little things to make others happy <3

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[brokentreeonline]

We're All Going To Die from Stefan Hunt on Vimeo.

We’re All Going To Die takes on the simple task of exploring the meaning of life. Through colour, imagination, humour and fart jokes, Director Stefan Hunt asks you to look at the what ifs, the why nots and the oh wells that might flash before your eyes when paid a surprise visit by Death. With your internal monologue played by Jared Jekyll and Death played by Hugo Weaving (The Matrix, Lord of the Rings), you’re prompted to get existential whilst grinning from ear to ear during this independent short film of fantastical weirdness.

The film is an adaptation from Stefan Hunt's illustrated book 'Were All Going To Die' and part of a multimedia extravaganza of that same name that was launched in October 2017. The project uses death and art to empower its audience to fear less & live more. "Years ago I was crippled by fear. Reminding myself that I'm going to die has changed my approach to life. It's the most powerful force to live by." says Hunt, who independently funded this project alongside a successful Kickstarter campaign.

A huge thank you to everyone who has been part of the journey. Let's keep kicking fear in the balls.

For more information visit - wereallgoingto.com Official book available here - wereallgoingto.com/book

Director - Stefan Hunt Producer - Yingna Lu Director of Photography - Campbell Brown Editor - Stefan Hunt Man - Jared Jekyll Death - Hugo Weaving Production Designer -Ian Kanik Art Director - Mohini Herse Art Director - Courtney Covey Costume Designer - Christina Bouzios Costume Designer - Rosa Spring Voss Hair and Make Up - Katy Clucas Hair and Make Up - Lisa Mangion Sound Composer - Jonny Higgins Casting Director - Felicity Byrne Unit Production Manager - Maren Smith Unit Production Manager - Nicole Hofstädter 1st Assistant Director - Stuart Beedie Stunt Coordinator - Mark Duncan (TwinStar Stunts) Stunt Rigger - Neal Horton Production Assistant - Olivia Carolan Production Assistant - Yasmin Blake Production Assistant/Reader Emele Ugavule 1st Assistant Camera - Joel Eames 1st Assistant Camera - Sid Tinney 1st Assistant Camera - Tim Keith 2nd Assistant Camera - Luke Tysoe 2nd Assistant Camera - Chris Moore 2nd Assistant Camera - Rhavin Banda BTS Jack Shepherd Wardrobe Assist - Amber Theron Gaffer - Mat Wilson (Focus Film Lighting) Gaffer - Steve Schofield (Lumen Arty) Best Boy - Nathan Grant Best Boy - Richard Hawkins Best Boy - Charles Gray Key Grip - Chris Davies Sound Recordist & Boom Operator - Martin Demian Stills Photographer - Sam Shepherd Locations Services - Emelie Fagerman and Alex Intihar from Search Party Locations Online Editor / Colourist - Matt Fezz VFX Supervisor - Matt Fezz VFX Supervisor - Matt Campbell Storyboard Artist - Amber Theron Graphic Designer - Sam Shepherd Designer - Hui Ying Kao Designer - Courtney Brookes Animator - Andrew Khosravani Animator - Michael Chen Post Sound Supervisor - Jonny Higgins Voice Over Recordist - Rob Hughes Voice Over Recordist - Simon Lister VO recorded at Nylon Studios Special Thanks to; Paper Moose Crater Studios Mrs Nina Tattoli Vanessa Marian Helena Rosebery Southern Cross Cameras Australia Stef Smith Matt Pike Whitney Oliver Alexandra Kent Adam Benton Liam Riley Ant Pawley Kei Yokokawa Williams Management Andrew Wilkinson (Sydney Prop Specialists) Alt.vfx