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multifandomworldsposts · 7 months

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Day 16 of Kinktober: Finally Meeting Colby

Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

Warning: protected sex, getting hickeys

A/N: sorry that i’ve been posting late I’ve been busy lately!

Y/N’s POV

I’m been messaging a youtuber name Colby Brock for a year and I’m finally going to meet him at the Trap House. We met at Playlist Live last year and we’ve been chatting since then and facetiming each other and Colby showing me his roommates including some friends of youtube friends as well.

One day, I bought a plane ticket to go to LA so I can meet Colby in person, but I didn’t tell Colby about it because I want to make it a surprise. I text the Trap House guys without Colby in it and told them when I’m landing and where my luggage is at so they can meet me. When I landed I text them that I’m in Los Angeles, Elton, Corey, Devyn, and Jake came to pick me up from the airport and we made a plan because they said to the rest of the house that they’re going to Target, so we went to Target and got some stuff they needed and I got some stuff for myself.

“Let’s put your stuff in a separate bag so Colby will kinda figures out that you’re here.” Elton says getting a separate bag ready for me.

“Okay. Are you sure this’ll work?” I ask.

“Colby tells us what you eat by the facetiming you guys do.” Corey says.

“Okay.” I said. I hope this works.

When we got to the house I get nervous, Devyn notices and tries to calm me down, I can’t believe I’m meeting Colby since we saw each other last year.

“Alright, Devyn, stay with Y/N and Corey text Devyn when it’s time for you two to go in.” Elton says with a camera on and has the Target bags in his other hand.

“Alright, you ready Y/N?” Corey asks.

“I am but still nervous.” I say.

“I’ll be here with you okay?” Devyn says rubbing her hand against on my back.

I nod. I’m ready.

Elton, Corey, and Jake goes in and Devyn and I were talking quietly so no one inside can hear us. Corey texts Devyn, it’s time to see him. Devyn takes my things and opens the door for me, the house looks so cool in real life. Colby walks out, his face looks confused but excited at the same time, I run towards him and runs towards me, we hug so tightly, I can’t believe I’m here with him.

“I can’t believe it’s you! I thought you have school today?” Colby stops hugging me and says.

“I lied, I had a flight to come here and Elton, Corey, Jake, and Devyn helped me.” I say.

“I knew it! I saw the bag of things that you eat, I knew there was something going on!” Colby says looking at the guys.

I laugh.

I get settled in the house in Colby’s room and I felt tired so I took a nap. After the nap, everyone and I went to Dave & Buster’s, Colby and I went around to other games so we can talk to each other privately.

“I still can’t believe you’re here.” Colby says while we’re walking to a game.

“I can’t believe it either.” I say following him.

“You wanna get in the photo booth?” Colby asked.

“Sure.” I smile.

We go to the photo booth and we take pictures, like us smiling, kissing, and some of the trap house boys came in and photobombed us. The pictures came out great! I send a picture of the four pictures of Colby, the roommates, and I to my parents so they can tell that Colby is real including the roommates as well. My parents believe me!

A FEW DAYS LATER

Colby and I have been talking about our personal lives for a while now and we began to kiss each other sometimes, but we’re not ready to go too far.

“You still tired?” Colby asks me.

“I am, it’s just the time zones, you know.” I tiredly say.

“I get what you’re saying Y/N/N.” He says.

Eventually, Colby introduced me to some of his youtube friends like, Brennen Taylor, which he’s kinda nice but he makes me uncomfortable.

Colby and I went on some dinner dates and some of his fans were nice but really rude at the same time. We went to some haunted places in Los Angeles as well which I really enjoy haunted places and anytime I get scared I would hold on to Colby and he would understand what I’m doing so he would hold on to me as well.

One night, Colby and I were alone, everyone went out to do a video or something but Colby and I stayed back. Colby was really touchy this night. All you can hear is me giggling by him touching me, and we start to kiss. I haven’t been kissed before so this felt special to me. Colby and I made out for a few minutes until we began to take our clothes off and Colby getting a condom for protection. He goes in and out of me and us moaning at the same time. He gives me hickeys, I moan even louder, I don’t want him to stop.

We continue our session until Colby’s door opens and it’s Sam looking horrified and Colby covers us, I look embarrassed. I hide my face in Colby’s chest, I never felt embarrassed in my life. Sam runs out of Colby’s room and Colby and I look at each other and chuckle.

“We’ll go somewhere special next time I promise.” Colby gets a strand of hair out my face.

“I’d like that.” I smile.

I’m so happy I’m with him but I hope we do something else then what we just did.

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

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Imagine # 1,038

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @bulletproofthroat (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2022

*Based entirely on → this ← post I made on my main/junk profile. And I liked to imagine this with the Iowa era Corey, but you're welcome to imagine whatever era you want.

Touring with Slipknot was interesting to say the least. They were loud, crazy, and sometimes gross, but despite their roughness they were genuinely nice people. Don't get me wrong, they could be assholes as much as anyone else, but in my personal experience, they were all bark no bite, looking like they could kill, but are actually total cinnamon rolls. Especially Corey. Yeah I know what you're thinking, Corey Taylor sweet? Well he is, with me at least.

You see it was within the first week of our tour, and Corey, Sid, and Mick all witnessed first hand just how bad my social anxiety can get. It was after the show was over, my band had finished our last song, and was heading for our dressing room. We were hot, sweaty, and still amped up on the energy of the crowd. Corey, Sid, and Mick were coming back from doing God only knows what. And from the other side of the hallway, was a massive crowd of fans trying desperately to meet us all.

One guy got passed security and made a mad dash for me, as he was apparently a particularly big fan of me. I tensed up and just sorta froze, my eyes wide and hands shaking when he essentially tackled me into a bone crushing hug. Everyone was yelling, but I couldn't make out what was being said over the ringing in my ears. And eventually someone, Mick I think, pulled the guy off of me, and I crumbled to the floor in a shaking sobbing mess. I was later told just how much the Slipknot guys were freaking out about the whole thing.

But my bandmates got me out of there and calmed me down, assuring me that everything was okay now. Ella my best friend, and bandmate, told me about everything later that night after I'd calmed down, and come back to my senses. She told me how pissed the Slipknot guys seemed, and how a few hours later they had all come knocking to see if I was okay. I had been taking an exhaustion nap when they showed up, so she had assured them I was fine and left it at that.

Since then I have been spending quite a lot of time with them all, finding their crude and sometimes childish humor very amusing. And the few times fans tried in such desperation to meet me, one if not all of them were by my side, berating and yelling at the fan to fuck off. Then they'd lead me away somewhere a little more quiet and make sure I was okay before leaving me be for a while. But today... Today I wasn't exactly able to run away from the individual making my anxiety spike.

It was a massive group interview that my band, and Slipknot were all involved in. Things were okay for a while, and most questions weren't directed at me, so I was calm and content. That is until the guy doing the interview suddenly asked me about the fan that "attacked" me. My mind went blank and I found myself unable to speak, the interviewer didn't seem to notice my discomfort and began prying for answers. My bandmates tried changing the topic, but he just kept prying.

My hands started shaking, my heart racing in my chest, and ears ringing loudly. Then suddenly a warmth enveloped my right hand, a warmth that clasped around my hand tenderly. A warmth I came to realize was Corey's hands holding my hand still. My racing heart calmed and the ringing in my ears ceased as I looked to the masked singer. Who was in turn looking at me with those piercing eyes of his, a faint smile ghosting his painted lips when he gently squeezed my hand in his.

The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and his gentle eyes cast hatefully to the interviewer. Who he gave a piece of his mind to, cussing and raging about bringing up that and I quote "shitface". He kept a hold of my hand the entire time, blowing up even more when the interviewer tried turning things around and pointed it out. Before long me and Corey were at the back of the crowd, as both mine and his band got between us and the interviewer, all hell raining down on the guy as they all cussed and spewed hate at him.

Next thing I knew the masked man was dragging me off, the both of us leaving the interview without another word. Then once we were in the safe confines of my hotel room, Corey finally let go of my hand, but he kept casting glances to make sure my hands were no longer shaking. "You didn't have to do that you know." I had told him, picking at a loose string in my sleeve. "I wasn't going to let him talk to you like that." Corey shrugged, pulling his mask off after a moment. "I care about you, you know." He mumbled quietly. I smiled softly, reaching over to take his hand in mine. "I care about you too." I had assured him.

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goodmotorfinger · 1 year

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unexpected musician crossovers from around the internet, part 2:

(some of these are probably not that unexpected but I'm too lazy to dig through rock music lore and find out how they're connected!)

(also if I misidentify someone in these photos, sorry that happens a lot)

Serj Tankian and Lynz Way

Kirk Hammett and Kind Diamond

Brian May and half of Mr. Big

Tim Commerford and Kiss (I'm not entirely sure if that's Tom on the right though)

Okay now I'm certain this one is Tom Morello and Gene Simmons

Mike McCready and Gene Simmons

Jerry Cantrell, Gene Simmons, and not sure who's on the left. Confirmed: everyone sticks out their tongue when they meet Gene

Buckethead and Serj Tankian (this one is a whole mood)

Corey Taylor and Tim Commerford

Arthur Lee, Jimmy Page, and John Frusciante

Serj Tankian and David Bowie

Geddy Lee and three-fifths of Pearl Jam

Thrash. A lot of thrash.

Fred Durst, Ozzy Osbourne, Marilyn Manson, and James Hetfield

Till Lindemann and Jim Root

James Hetfield, Corey Taylor, and Jim Root

Wayne Static and Shavo Odadjian

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fritz-federleicht · 1 year

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8/Corey Taylor x reader

Summary: you visit Corey in the studio

Words: 1112

Warnings: swearing

PURE FLUFF

For a month now, your boyfriend has been in the studio with his bandmates recording a new album.

That means that Corey either doesn't come home at all or gets up very early to spend as much time as possible in the studio. You almost don't see each other at all during this time.

That's why you're especially happy today because you're going to visit Corey in the studio.

You stand in front of the studio door and ring the bell. You wait a moment and hear footsteps.

"Hey Y/N." Jim opens the door for you and takes you firmly in his arms.

"Hey, we finally meet again." You murmur into his shoulder. You separate from each other again. "You know where the studio is."

You nod. Even if you didn't know, you would know where to go. The boys make such a racket.

You walk past the kitchen and open the door to the studio.

The first thing you see is Mick sitting on a chair playing his guitar.

In another corner Sid, Joey and Chris are sitting and fooling around. Craig and Paul are nowhere to be seen.

When you open the door all the way, you see Clown sitting before the recording room. Inside is your boyfriend Corey, screaming his head off. Finally you can see him again.

"Hello Y/N." You turn your head to Joey. "Oh hey Joey." You wave. Sid and Chris turn to you.

"Come here." Sid beckons you over. With a broad grin on your face you walk towards them.

When you stand in front of them, Sid wants to hug you, but Joey pushes him aside.

"Me first, asshole." He puts his arms around you. "Ah, I missed your hugs."

,,Why do you get to hug Y/N first?" Sid asks and pulls you out of Joey's arms.

"Maybe because we like each other more."

Jim appears behind Joey. "That's not true at all. Y/N hugged me first."

"What? Really?" Joey makes a horrified expression. "Oh, guys. I missed you too." You say and give Sid and Chris a quick hug, one after the other.

You look at Clown and Corey who still haven't noticed that you are there. Then you turn to Mick who has now put his guitar aside and leans back in his chair. When he sees you he smiles and stands up.

"Hey little one." "Hey, big guy." You hug him too. "Sorry, but I have to say hello to Corey."

Mick nods. You walk towards Clown who is sitting with his back to you. You hug his head from behind. "Hey Clown. Can I go in or are you recording something?" He flinches slightly and turns his head back. He puts his hands on your arms that are resting under his face.

"Y/N don't scare me like that!" He complains. "But yes, you can go in."

Immediately you loosen your embrace and straighten up. You walk towards the door, adjust your clothes once more and open the door to the recording room.

Corey, with headphones on and eyes closed, doesn't even notice you enter the room. He's still screaming his head off.

You run up to him, wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. He immediately stops shouting.

Corey opens his eyes. Looks down at himself and sees your grinning face. Immediately his face lights up. His arms wrap around your hips. He presses you tightly against him.

"Babe, what are you doing here?" "I wanted to surprise..." You don't get any further because Corey interrupts you.

"It doesn't matter. The main thing is that you're here." He says and takes your face in his hands. He leans down and kisses you.

,,Guys, that's so sweet." Joey's voice sounds loudly. You break the kiss and look at the window that lies between the studio and the recording room. In front of it are the guys watching you. Joey is standing over the control panel, holding a microphone in his hand.

"You guys are such peeping toms." Corey yells into the microphone in front of him.

Sid snatches the microphone from Joey's hand. "You're a Peeping Tom. You fucker."

"SID!" You admonish him. He immediately makes an apologetic face. "Sorry." The others laugh at this.

"You would do the same." Is Sid miffed.

"Come on. We'll take a break." Says Corey, loosening his arms around your hips. Instead, he grabs your hand and leads you out of the recording room.

"Guys, we're going to take a short break. You'll find us in the kitchen."

Corey opens the studio door for you. You slip through. "Thanks, honey." Corey smiles and follows you into the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink?" , "A coffee wouldn't be bad. I just got up an hour ago."

Corey puts on a coffee and sits down with you.

"I missed you. You didn't come home last night."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just want to use as much time as possible." He says and reaches for your hand. His thumb runs over your knuckles.

"Not for long. Then I'll be home all the time again." He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"I'm looking forward to waking up together again." He looks you in the eyes and thinks about something.

"Babe, you know what? Here, take the ring." Corey releases your hands from each other and pulls his ring with the 8 on it off his finger. He holds it out to you.

"But it's so important to you." "Just take it until we see each other all the time again. So that you always have me with you."

"Oh Corey." You put your hand on his cheek. He presses his face against your touch. "That's so sweet of you. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N. So much." You run your thumb over his cheekbone and kiss him.

"Joey's right. You guys are really cute." You jump apart in fright and turn to the direction from which the voice comes. "But if you keep doing that, I'm going to puke."

Clown stands in the doorway with a serious face.

"Honey, take a cup of coffee. I have something to do." Corey says as he stands up. He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head and then turns to Clown.

"Come on over here, you butthead." Says Clown belligerently.

"I'm gonna kill you, bitch." Corey runs towards Clown. Clown runs away from him.

There you sit smiling with Corey's ring firmly in your hand.

#slipknot one shot #slipknot imagine #slipknot #slipknot x reader #corey taylor #corey taylor one shot #corey taylor x reader #corey taylor imagine

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torpublishinggroup · 10 months

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Tor Staff Builds a Dragon

You can only write about dragons for so long without creating one. Tor staff have gathered from across the corners of our several departments to collectively design a precious little monster.

We're Tor. Meet our dragon.

Assigned Component: Name Designer: a stack of feral racoons in a trenchcoat, Assistant Director of Marketing

"The ideal dragon name is hard to pin down but it’s all about branding. Do you want adventurers popping by regularly for when you’re feeling snacky? Try something intimidating but sure to pique their curiosity so they feel the trip to your digestive system is worth the effort but also sure to earn glory. Best naming convention for this purpose is BLANK the BLANK, like Doralindon the Conqueror of Cities or Steve the Ignoble.

But above all when considering a dread dragon name to terrify children around the fire in the halls of your enemies for years to come is to stay true to yourself. If you like your birth name, flaunt what your momma gave you! If you’re looking for a Nom de Guerre, don’t be afraid to flaunt your most fun qualities. Corey the Lover of Long Walks on the Beach is just as valid as The Dread Claw of Winter."

Assigned Component: Tail Designer: Rachel Taylor, Senior Marketing Manager

"Dragons must be protected on all sides, and maybe most importantly from behind, so no pesky wannabe ‘heroes’ can sneak up and attempt a murder (cowards). The Tor Publishing Group is mighty and swift, so I think the tail must encompass those virtues, with a long, spiky tail that is fast, sharp, and deadly. AKA, the tail is made of knives. No unexpected sneak attacks will get the Tor Dragon down! BEGONE, ATTEMPTED DO-GOODERS!!!"

Assigned Component: Wings Designer: Dragon Enthusiast, Marketing Assistant

"Most dragons you see nowadays have thin, bat-like wings that are, frankly, not much fun. Here at Tor we’ve got flair, we’ve got pizazz, and our dragon should too so we’re taking the wing-game up a notch and giving them a pair of the fanciest, featheriest wings you’ve ever seen. Might our dragon look a tad silly? Perhaps. Will they be primed and ready to live their best dragon life? Most definitely."

Assigned Component: Limbs Designer: a cat, Assistant Marketing Manager

"Tor Publishing Group has many imprints, so our dragon must have many limbs. At least as many limbs as we have imprints, and they all must be different to reflect the different propensities of Tor. For example, the Nightfire limb is obviously a chainsaw. The limb that represents Tor Teen will be a slightly more youthful iteration of the dragonic arm that represents Tor Books, etc."

Assigned Component: Lair Designer: A Nightfire Ghoul, Associate Editor

"If I tell you there’s a dragon in all of us, you may laugh, as is your right. But you feel it, don’t you? Tail coiled around your ribs, wings tucked between your lungs, fire burning in your heart. So yes, dear reader, laugh if you’d like. But you know it’s the truth. The dragon’s lair is you. Be sure to feed it well."

Assigned Component: Magic Powers Designer: Jill Cipher, Associate Publicist

"While most readers probably imagine a fire-breathing, hoarding lizard with wings, I prefer dragons to be slightly more… peculiar. To really encompass the full idea of Tor Publishing Group, our dragon has to be a chameleon of chaos. I imagine our dragon has malleable collarbones like a cat in order to fit into small spaces; the disorienting scream of a goat; and world shaking (earthquakes, avalanches, etc.) abilities."

NOW BEHOLD OUR CREATION, ARE NOT THEY LOVELY?

LOOK UPON OUR CHILD AND DESPAIR

#dragon week #tor books #DREAD CLAW #dragons #books or something

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meanautisticenbian · 5 months

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I er uh revamped the main clone’s ref sheets lol

Extra info:

Anne:

- has a brother named Mark Read (cloned from Mary Read)

- raised by a single Irish immigrant father, they have a great relationship but he was kinda pissed when she shaved half her head

- anarchist, if that wasn’t clear already

- Doesn’t really have anything against communism he just doesn’t want Hat hanging out with Che

- The only person who isn’t terrified of Mary

- voiceclaim is vi from arcane

Mary:

- rich family

- kinda sweet but it really depends

- Almost completely shrouded in mystery

- voiceclaim is Raven Black

Hat:

- I’m gonna be honest with y’all, all these other OCs were made just for fun, Hat’s the only one with an actual character arc (if you can’t already tell)

- bc very little is known about her clone mom so she knows pretty much everything there is to know about her and gets FLABBERGASTED when other clones say they don’t know literally everything about their clone parents

- sorta bitter about other clones who’s clone parents are generally well known and have familiar faces, as the clone of a lesser known figure who was almost completely erased from history, but he ESPECIALLY beefs with Che Guevara’s clone (friend’s OC) until they have that whole enemies to lovers thing

- top of their class in history and literature, completely sucks at math and science

- unlike her clone mother, has GOD AWFUL social skills (whenever she meets someone new and feels like she might talk with them again she spends hours researching their clone parent just to infodump about them, most of the time she never meets them again so she just has this random pool of pointless knowledge floating around in her head)

- has at least 800 books about ancient Egypt including a signed copy of The Woman who would be King

- sometimes goes by Maatkare and is mostly called this as a baby/pet name

- has two moms, one is the clone of Nefertiti

- voiceclaim is Nimona

Willy:

- casual gamer and lowkey theater kid

- hates almost everyone

- very difficult for him to like someone but it’s possible

- unironically a great singer I promise like Corey Taylor is SHIVERING

- non oriented aroace

- once wrote an entire 10 page class essay on why Braveheart is the worst movie ever made (he got a c)

- Voiceclaim is Bojack Horseman

#clone high oc #clone high #anne bonny #william wallace #hatshepsut #mary shelley #I should Tag my characters in their posts more often #I hope some random history fan with no knowledge of clone high doesn’t find this

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in-death-we-fall · 1 year

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24 Hour Party People

Things are getting messy on the Stone Sour/Murderdolls UK tour. Welcome inside their world of drunken orgies, comedy pissing and pickled cow’s hearts…

(google docs link)

Photos: Tina Korhonen

If you ever find yourself in the same building as Corey Taylor, the frontman with the most Tourettes-like speech patterns in rock (no mean feat in an arena where swearing is both big and clever), the chances are you’ll hear him long before you see him. A couple of hours after his band Stone Sour’s first UK show with fellow Slipknot-affiliates the Murderdolls, the singer is drunkenly ping-ponging off the walls of a corridor backstage at Nottingham’s Rock City, beaming and gleefully bellowing Electric Six’s ‘Gay Bar’ at top volume before tumbling into his dressing room for the umpteenth shot of Jack Daniel’s this evening.

The backstage area is teeming with young women who have miraculously acquired passes along the way. More incongruously and to Taylor’s obvious confusion, there are also random semi-naked men flitting about. In the next room, Murderdolls’ Nikki Sixx-coiffed bass player Eric Griffin is entertaining two ladies — one of them, dressed as a sexy nurse, currently occupied with snapping on a pair of surgical gloves. Tonight is clearly going to get messy. If everyone involved in this tour comes out of this thing unscathed, it’ll be a miracle.

“I like the fact that we’re just five fucking guys who stink and love music. I love it, that’s real, fuck that dumb shit.”

Rewind a few hours, and an infinitely more coherent, if chronically hungover Corey Taylor is fumbling his way into a minibus to join his bandmates on their way to an in-store signing. While, along with guitarist Jim Root, he spends his time worrying America’s parents and poncing around in a mask in Slipknot, it’s quickly obvious that Stone Sour offers the chance to show his often-gurning, surprisingly clumsy human side. The side that has dumped all attempts at being enigmatic for the person whose big ambition in life is to appear in a cartoon (“I can picture Bart Simpson going to a Slipknot concert,” says Jim. “It’d be great, you’d hear, like, a note between bleeps.”), who has been terrified of sharks since his mother took him to see ‘Jaws’ when he was three, who has an obsessive love of British comedy, and revels in tasteless, decidedly un-PC jokes. A random example: “What do you call the worthless skin around a pussy? The rest of the woman.” Classy.

All of which is good news for the scores of fans who have turned up to meet the band today.

“There are guys out there who would pick their eyes out with a fucking coathanger and go, ‘Aaargh! They’re for you!’,” grins the singer as one fan thrusts a giant dildo at him to be signed. “But they’re all great. Anyone that listens to us is pretty fucking cool. And little kids are really into it too. You take the time and you fucking talk to them and shit, that’s a fan or (sic) life. Get them young, like the tobacco companies say!”

Over at the venue, the Murderdolls — all similarly hungover, bar iron-livered frontman Wednesday 13 — emerge from their bus in a flurry of red and black hair and leather to be met by fans bearing gifts of Boris Karloff action figures and teddy bears dressed in bondage gear.

Perhaps inevitably, because of the way they look, their unashamedly cock-rock outlook, their gang mentality and the way that there’s genuinely no-one like them at the moment, the band have inspired a tribe of similarly-attired devout followers who you can spot a mile off. Many of them are female, which is curious given the off-the-scale testosterone levels that shape the band.

“We had a group of four girls here bawling their eyes out, really shaking,” says Joey Jordison, struggling to wake up. “I don’t really think it’s too weird. We give them something to believe in, some escapism from maybe some of the hard things in their lives.”

“It’s insane,” grins Wednesday. “You hang around us for a day you’ll be crying to get away from us.”

It’s a strange kind of devotion the two bands create. While both are surprisingly approachable some people still go to unnecessary extremes to get their attention.

“A girl came to an in-store signing with her arms completely slashed up, with every guy in the Murderdolls’ name cut into her arm,” says Joey. “She brought me a cow heart in a formaldehyde jar with my picture in it, and said that that was her heart and it belongs to me. And she gave me a book of a hundred poems that are all about me.’

Is that not a little disturbing?

“No, I just think that some of these kids need a little bit more attention. We’re a fun band, we want the kids to have fun, and I don’t want anyone taking their aggressions out on themselves. Life is really not as bad as they think it is. That’s why we come over here, because I know we’re important to these kids. I could easily be at home right now sitting out on my porch drinking a beer and not giving a shit. But I’d rather come over here and tell kids thank you for giving me a reason to live as well.”

By the time showtime comes around, Stone Sour can be found in their dressing room “spanking the bottle of Jack”, a strange pre-show ritual that seems to achieve little more than earning Corey a new blood blister on his finger.

One set of anthemic rock and one set of fantastically ludicrous glam-rock stomping later, and it’s time to get the alcohol flowing, bring the prettiest girls backstage, and for certain members of this touring circus to behave very badly indeed…

“Oh Jesus.”

Corey Taylor is suffering. The last anyone saw of him last night was when he was taken to support band Elviss’ bus for a little drink. Today, he’s paying the price, big time.

I remember getting onstage,” he says, trying to piece the previous evening together. “I remember doing a great show, coming offstage, drinking about 12 Jack and Cokes being pulled onto Elviss’ bus and them pumping fucking absinthe down my goddamn throat trying to kill me. Fuckers. After that it’s a blur. I remember eating an ignorant amount of fucking lamb steak, just shoving it in my face. It was fucking gross.”

“We go apeshit every night.” -Joey Jordison

This, apparently, has nothing on what went on in the Murderdolls’ tour bus last night, where one stunned witness hazily recalls someone attempting to use the on-board toilet, only to be met with the sight of a certain lanky member of the Murderdolls inserting “objects” into two girls.

“We are a fun rock ‘n’ roll party band in every sense of the word,” says a wary Joey Jordison the next day as the band roll in to the Birmingham Academy. “You can draw about every conclusion you ever heard about the traditional rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle from the ‘80s, that’s pretty much us. But I don’t want to make it sound like that’s cool. I don’t endorse it in any way.”

Joey, Corey, and Jim Root have, of course, seen and done it all before with Slipknot, so it’s fair to say that, bar the heroic alcohol consumption, they may have a certain amount of detachment from the mayhem surrounding them these days.

“But all that crazy shit happened a long time ago,” Corey insists, grimacing through his hangover. “I don’t really recall! I’d be coming offstage, having a glass of milk and eating cookies.”

Because the two bands are about such vastly different things — with Stone Sour it’s about bringing things down to the simple elements of their songs and connecting with the audience, while Murderdolls are on a mission to bring the biggest, trashiest, glammiest, most X-rated party to every town they hit — there’s little in the way of rivalry between the camps. The only competition seems to be with putting on the biggest, loudest live show.

“If anything I think it’s healthy if there is,” Corey concurs. “It just makes you want to give that bit fucking more and go for it. At the end of the day it’s all about the kids, fuck us. It’s all about whether they’re having a good time or not.”

“There’s always that little competition,” Joey says. “This is our last run before we go back to Slipknot, so I’m not worried about it too much. But we put on the same show pretty much every night anyway. We go that apeshit every night.”

The first thing you’d notice on entering the Murderdolls’ dressing room is the detritus: clothes, make-up scattered everywhere, not to mention drummer Ben ‘The Ghoul’ Graves — the cause of most of last night’s very worst behaviour — stretched out on a sofa and spilling, somewhat unpleasantly, out of his stage costume of a PVC thong while loudly “making room” in his nose. The second thing you notice, half a second later, is that it stinks in here.

“My clothes smell like a cat litter box,” Wednesday says, wrinkling his nose. “I got my pants out of our wardrobe case, and they’re still soaked from the show because I was sweating, but I swear they smell like piss. I think someone could have pissed on my pants. Our stuff was packed up, so I’m not sure what happened, unless someone is trying to play a trick on me.”

This, of course, is what happens when you stick a load of men on a bus together for months on end and deny them the rights to proper laundry services.

“Most bands rely on special lights and effects,” Wednesday continues, as Joey and Corey work on new Slipknot material down the corridor. “But we come to the people in Smellovision. We bring all the senses out. Whenever you come to our show and we haven’t come onstage yet, you can go (sniffs), ‘Oh, something smells like shit! They’re getting ready to go on!’. We’ve got an intro smell instead of an intro tape.”

Tonight’s show makes Nottingham’s insanity look like a warm-up. It’s so hot in the venue you have to wade through the air, and after Stone Sour incite a mass singalong of ‘Bother’, the Murderdolls trip down the stairs, making last minute checks on their hair, before they explode onto the stage. By the time the encore comes around, Acey has rather gruesomely lost all his clothing from his lower regions, the rest of them are running around the stage as if they’re being chased by killer mosquitoes, and Stone Sour are bellowing their approval from the wings. Nothing here is about angst. It’s all about living larger than most of our lives.

“Rock stars should look like they’re from outer space or something,” Joey says afterwards, as they pack up their make-up kits. “When I was growing up seeing Alice Cooper and Kiss and shit, when I went to a show I could be like, ‘Okay, that’s the fucking dude in the band’. That’s the way it should be. Even with Slipknot, our image and the show goes with the music. Music and imagery go together, and it just makes it that much more fun for the live show.”

And while Stone Sour head off to deal loudly with the latest booze-related crisis (their bus driver, who is supposed to be driving them to Scotland in an hour, is passed out drunk, so it’s time to fire him), Joey prepares himself for the long, but no doubt eventful journey ahead.

“I intend on having a hangover tomorrow,” he says. “The plan for tonight is the same for every night. The reason bands get so fucked up and drink a lot is because all we do is the same thing every day, and it’s the best fucking lifestyle. We have no responsibilities. You’re on this bus, nothing can fucking touch you. You’re meeting cool fucking people all the time. It’s much more fun-orientated and more of a free-spirited vibe with this band than any other band I’ve been in.”

“I liked the ‘Fuck’ song!” The fans’ verdict on the Stone Sour/Murderdolls face-off…

Name: Riannan Davis Age: 19 From: Mid-Wales Well, what did you think?: “Excellent. I love Stone Sour and Murderdolls.” Which band comes out top?: “Stone Sour. I just prefer them and I get bored of Murderdolls after a while. Stone Sour are good over and over again.” Highlight? “Getting promised to go backstage in five minutes!”

Name: Andrew Gordan Age: 14 From: Oxford Well, what did you think?: “It was amazing, really good.” Which band comes out top?: “Murderdolls, definitely. I just prefer that type of music, it’s really good.” Highlight?: “‘White Wedding’ by the Murderdolls. I love the Billy Idol version, and I love the Murderdolls version.”

Name: Natalie Reynolds Age: 15 From: Bristol Well, what did you think?: “I’ve had a fucking amazing time!” Which band comes out top?: “Murderdolls! They rock, because Ghoul’s in the band. He’s so fit! He’s just the drag queen of my dreams.” Highlight?: “Seeing Ghoul in a thong!”

Name: Chaz Boswell Age: 18 From: Wales Well, what did you think?: “It was fantastic tonight.” Which band comes out top?: “Murderdolls, definitely. They’re more fun than Stone Sour, and I prefer their music. My friend lost his shoe.” Highlight?: “Finding the shoe.”

Name: Hayley Lamb Age: 14 From: Lemington What did you think?: “I had a great time.” Which band comes out top?: “Murderdolls. I just love the way they dress and I think their music’s great.” Highlight?: “I liked the ‘Fuck’ song with the umbrella, that was great.”

#if there's anything else you want scanned from this let me know #murderdolls #stone sour #joey jordison #corey taylor #jim root #wednesday 13 #ben graves #eric griffin #acey slade #interview #acey that's so fucking illegal #kerrang july 26 03

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violentdelightsproductions · 9 months

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The Boys meet Slipknot!

It's canon: ever since Soldier Boy and Amanda Harper met Corey and Alicia Taylor, they've been inseparable. Follow them on tour as Amanda opens up for Corey's show- and enjoy some Soldier Boy dancing to the tune. More to follow soon!

Happy Birthday Alex ♥

#gifset #slipknot #corey and alicia taylor #corey taylor #alicia taylor #the boys #soldier boy #amanda harper #HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX ♥

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deanwinchesterswitch · 1 year

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The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas

Part Six: Take the Freeway Down

Square: Road Trip ~ @spnchristmasbingo

Song: Run, Run Rudolph ~ Lynyrd Skynyrd

Pairing: Dean x Nicole {Nico/Nic} OFC

Summary: Nicole is reminded of how annoying Dean can be when he’s stuck riding shotgun. Challenges and frustration threaten to derail the journey before it’s barely begun.

Warnings: Angst, A bit of fluff, Implied sex, Language, Canon divergence

Word Count: 3,727

Beta: @princessmisery666

Credit: The stunning title card and dividers were made by @talesmaniac89.

Author’s Note: I promise good times lay ahead.

Series Master Post

“Awesome!” She pulls him into another hug, “You can do anything you set your mind to, Dean,” then steps back after a quick peck on his cheek and points toward the table. “Pack your gear. We’re headed out in ten.”

“What? Now?”

“Yep. I packed your duffle while you were in the shower. The car is stocked with our favorite snacks and ready to roll.”

She smiles broadly, her voice buzzing with excitement, but he stands frozen in place, feeling somewhat ambushed. “What if I had said no?” The smile falters, and the sparkle in her eyes diminishes, making him wish he hadn’t said anything. Biting his lip, he turns his head, not wanting to see the disappointment that he caused.

“Hey.” Her voice is as gentle as her touch, and he leans into the hand on his cheek as she urges him to meet her gaze. “Dean?”

Nic’s other hand strokes along his upper arm while she waits for him to look at her or say something. He feels a little like a petulant child but knows he’s being ridiculous. Nic never has and never would demean him or his feelings. A quiet moment passes, and he finally turns to face her. Instead of discontentment, he is met with a warm smile and a perceptive stare.

The moment his eyes meet hers, she declares, “I would have unpacked the car, and we would have devoured the snacks during a movie marathon. You know I would never willingly do anything to hurt you, and I’m not going to force you into anything.” Delicate fingers trace the shell of his ear, smooth palm coming to rest against his neck, as her softly calloused thumb strokes his jawline. “I’m asking you to keep an open mind, but the entire trip is about you …for you. If you don’t want to do something, we won’t do it. If you want to come back home, we will come back home.”

“Simple as that?” he breathes, chest tight with apprehension.

“Simple as that.”

Not for the first time, and most probably not for the last, he marvels at what a lucky son of a bitch he is to have her in his life. “Okay.” the agreement bursts from him in a rush of air, and a tiny ripple of excitement shimmers deep in his chest.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder, adding with a little more enthusiasm, “Let’s do it!”

“Alright. I’ll grab the things you need from the bathroom while you get all this together.’ With a quick pat on his arm, she heads out of the library. “Meet me in the garage.”

Dean walks into the garage with a minute to spare. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re not taking Baby?”

Closing the hatch on her Jeep, she turns to face him. “No.”

“How can you call it a road trip, then?”

Taking the camera bag from him, she places it on the passenger side backseat and walks around the front of the vehicle. “You know I love Baby, but you rarely let me drive her, and you don’t know where we’re going.” She holds up a hand, “No, I’m not telling you. It’s a surprise.”

“But-”

“You’re working for me, remember? Besides, we’re going to need the 4-wheel drive.”

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.” Pulling a cassette from her back pocket, she tosses it to him to try and forestall further questions. “I made you a mixtape for the trip.”

Lips pursed, his brow furrows as he reads the label. “Christmas rock?”

“Only a few are Christmas songs.” She shrugs. “I think you’ll like them, though, especially the one by Corey Taylor.”

“Who?”

“The guy from Slipknot.” Adding, as he nods, “That one’s right up your alley at the moment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll understand when you listen to it,” she teases. “Come on. I wanna get on the road.”

Dean looks longingly at the Impala as he passes by, running a hand over her hood. “Sorry, Baby, the boss is being a bit of a tyrant.”

Laughing as she rolls her eyes, Nic climbs into the Jeep, quietly elated that Dean agreed to the trip. She knows she blindsided him, especially with the quick departure. However, she didn’t want to give him a chance to overthink it. While she does hope to change his attitude about not celebrating the holiday, her main goal is to help him understand the driving force of his emotional turmoil so he can find a way to process those feelings and move forward in a manner in which he’s comfortable.

“I can’t believe we’re taking a so-called road trip without Baby,” he whines as he slips into the passenger seat.

“Let it go, dude.” Holding her phone out of sight, fingertip hovering, she checks in with him one last time. “Do you choose to accept the mission?”

“You need to let it go.“ Laughing, he leans over to kiss her before settling back and fastening his seatbelt. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

She remains silent, the keys dangling from the ignition, and arches a brow when he looks at her expectantly.

“Alright, alright,” hands waving in the air, “I choose to accept the mission.”

Nic’s finger taps her phone screen, and the theme from Mission Impossible fills the car’s interior. With a howl of laughter from Dean, she starts the engine, and they set off.

They’re only about three hours into the drive when the leg bouncing starts.

Since it rarely occurred, and the last time it happened, she had slept through most of it while Sam drove, she’d almost forgotten how thoroughly annoying Dean could be as a passenger. First, there had been random bouts of tongue clicking along with other mouth noises, which alternated with finger tapping on the door frame and heavy sighs as he shifted in his seat, now the dull thud of his heel hitting the floorboard with every twitch of his leg.

“STOP!”

“What?” he asks, all innocent-like as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“The leg!” She flicks a hand at him. “Chill, dude. Or I’m going to pop that kneecap.”

“Let me drive for a while,” he huffs in response.

“Nope.” The corner of her lip curls as she stares at the road ahead. “Why don’t you take the time to get to know your equipment better.”

“Phfft. I think I know how to work my equipment just fine.”

Leave it to Dean to turn her innocent comment into a dirty little innuendo with an eye wiggle and a bit of added grit to his voice. Well, two can play that game. “Yeah, you do,” she breathes, doing her best Harley Quinn impersonation, biting into her bottom lip as she slides her palm along his thigh, fingers dragging over denim to play with a belt loop. The muscles of his legs tense, and he swallows hard. “But it doesn’t hurt to learn something new.”

“You never had any complaints before,” he growls.

Nic presses her thighs together. Her whole ploy nearly backfires as she strains to keep her voice even and the car on the road. “Oh, I’m not complaining. I’m protecting my interests.” She makes sure to hit his ticklish spot as her fingers dance over his side, and his body jerks in response. Silently laughing, she continues to tease him. “I want to make sure that you are prepared to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Pull over, and I’ll show you how prepared I am.”

That voice …hypnotic, throaty, and resonating with the promise of pleasurable torture.

Focus, Nicole!

He shivers as her fingers trace a path up his arm, nails scraping over the nape of his neck. She catches the movement of his hand as he adjusts his growing bulge and can feel his eyes boring into her profile. With a quick glance in his direction, she gives him a wink as she reaches behind his seat. “So… you know all about the F-stop values, shutter speeds, ISO, and metering modes for pictures taken during the blue hour versus the golden hour. Action versus still, midday versus midnight, ” she purrs, pulling the camera bag forward.

Dean grunts, smirk crumbling when she drops the case into his lap and giggles.

“You know you’re gonna pay for that later. Right?”

He tries to sound menacing, but it only makes her laugh harder. “Aww, come on, admit it. I got you.” She pokes him in the ribs, and he bats her hand away.

“Whatever.” He flips the case open and stares at the contents, looking a little like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You didn’t bring the manual, did you,” she chuckles, opening the console between them. She pulls out a small leather-bound journal and a copy of the manual and hands them to him.

“What’s- Oh,” he exclaims as he opens the journal. “It’s like your hardcover logs.”

“I thought you might prefer a leather one.” Returning his smile with a shrug. “I’ve added some notes on the first few pages. Tips I learned over the years.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” he bobs his head, reading one of the pages.

Removing the camera, he sets the case on the floorboard between his feet and lays the book open in his lap. Nic smiles and hums softly along to the radio as Dean becomes engrossed in camera settings.

When he gets bored of reading and tinkering with his new toy, which doesn’t take long, Nic tries to distract him with discussions of movies and music. As predicted, Dean likes Corey’s little ditty—enthusiastically shouting his agreement with each new line. Their conversation then somehow turns into dirty joke-telling until the banter gets so filthy that she has to pull over onto an overgrown dirt road so they can relieve some tension.

It went downhill quickly after that. A tire blew, and they found themselves stuck in a small village in the middle of nowhere until the local garage opened. Dean refused to go any further on the old spare than the twenty miles it took to get to the sleepy little town’s 24-hour diner across the street from the repair shop.

“I told you, nothing good happens,” he laments as they enter the restaurant. “With our luck, if we try to go further, the spare will blow, and we’ll die in the desert, vultures picking our eyes out.”

“Drama queen,” Nic coughs into her hand.

A dirty look is all she gets as he continues to rant. The only relief she gets from his fidgeting and complaining is during the four-hour nap he decides to take around two in the morning. As he lies in the backseat snoring, she sits on the hood of her car in the diner’s vacant parking lot. The tears staining her face glimmer like crystals in the starlight as she stares blankly into the indigo sky. Frustration burns through her. They’re only a few miles away from the dark sky community where she had wanted to spend the early morning hours watching the stars together. Eventually, she quietly slips into the car and manages to get about an hour’s sleep before he wakes her to get breakfast.

The first hour back on the road after the tire incident is silent and strained. Dean is the first to try to diffuse the stress, reaching over to run his hand over her thigh, “You doing okay?”

Tired, with disappointment still hovering near the surface, she doesn’t trust herself to keep from crying again and quickly responds, “I’m good.” The half smile plastered on her lips not fooling him.

Turning his hand palm up on her leg, he patiently waits until she entwines her fingers with his, then brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses each knuckle. Though the tension is broken, they each remain quiet, settling into their own thoughts.

Eventually, pen-clicking and complaining about the number of holiday songs on the radio began. At one point, she slaps his hand away from the dial after he zealously flipped through the channels for five minutes, using his words against him that the driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole before ramming the tape back in. When the leg bouncing starts again, Nic is done.

It’s still early in the day, but rather than knifehand him in the throat, she asks him to search for a hotel in the area, which again triggers his disapproval about not being allowed to drive. She loves the man dearly, but honestly, there’s only so much one person can take.

“It’s too early to stop.” Kicking the door closed behind him, he whines for the millionth time, “If you’d just let me drive, we could keep going.”

The planned nine-hour drive for their first day became a twenty-one hour, fourteen-minute, and thirty-two-second rollercoaster ride through Hell—yes, she knows precisely how long she’s spent in close proximity with the sexy and charming, but getting on her last nerve hunter. And yes, maybe she is exaggerating a bit, but dealing with Crowley had been less harrowing than having Dean Winchester as a passenger!

“Christ, would you shut up about driving already? I don’t want to keep going, Dean. It’s not a race. We’re not heading to a hunt to try and save someone. Can we just take a breather? Enjoy the time together?” she snaps, exasperated, immediately regretting it.

Turning to find the face of a scolded puppy, she sighs, her heart clenching with sadness. When his pout deepens, a laugh bubbles in her throat. She will probably never understand how he can make her want to go from wringing his neck to cradling him like a wounded animal to wanting to ravage his body in under thirty seconds.

Dean drops the duffles as she sets the laptop and camera bags on the table, “I’m sorry,” they apologize in unison, reaching for one another. He cradles her head against his chest, and she slips her hands beneath his shirt, flattening her palms against his back, trying to connect with as much skin as possible.

Nic pulls back first, “Dean-”

“No.” Framing her face with his hands, he squats down to her eye level. “I’ve been an ass most of this trip. I know it.”

She chokes on a laugh but shakes her head. “You-”

“Let me …” Tilting his head, he looks at her imploringly. “I need to say this.” When she nods in agreement, he scrubs a hand down his face and stands upright again. “I, uh …it’s strange, you know, it doesn’t feel right being on the road without a plan, not knowing where we’re going, the fact that there’s no monster to fight. It just feels …” Inhaling, he drops his head. Lips pressed together, the dimples make a brief appearance before he says in an explosion of air and uncertainty, “I don’t know …like I’m out of place. I have no clue what to do. I never believed I would have a chance at something like this …something more for us. I-“ he blinks, swallowing hard, “you know what, never mind. I told you all of this already.” Shaking his head, he shifts his gaze to stare despondently over her shoulder.

The slumped shoulders and defeated tone of his voice make her throat tighten with emotion. The whole reason for the trip was to help eliminate those feelings, not make them worse. “Dean …” she reaches for his hand, “I’m so sorry. This …this was a dumb idea.” Dropping his hand, she fishes the keys out of her pocket, holding them out to him. “Here. We can go back home. You can drive.” Jangling the set of keys, she attempts a smile. “I need to sleep anyway.”

“No, Nico, that’s not-” Jaw clenching as he turns and walks away, he runs a hand through his hair. “I- “ Spinning back to face her with watery eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose, appearing to struggle with finding words but then sets his shoulders, locking eyes with her. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help. I don’t want to go home. I want to relax. To take a breather and enjoy this. I just …I don’t know how. It’s not an excuse for how I’ve acted, though, and I am sorry for that.”

Swiping a tear from the corner of her eye, her lip trembles, “Uh …o- okay.”

“Oh, honey. C’mere.” Opening his arms, he strides toward her, folding her into an embrace as she falls into his chest, arms cinching tight around his waist. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Nico.”

She’s so damn tired that she doesn’t even try to stop the blubbering. “I just …just …wanted…”

“I know. It’s alright. ” Dean kisses the top of her head, shushing and cooing at her as he moves them toward the bed to sit, situating her in his lap as he gently rocks them.

They stay that way for several moments, and when the tears finally subside, she mumbles into his chest. “Will it help if I tell you where we’re going?” Dean loosens his hold, and she wipes her face on his dampened t-shirt before tilting her head to look at him.

Smiling gently at her, he thumbs a final tear from her cheek. “No, I don’t wanna know. Maybe getting out of my comfort zone is what I need to do.”

“Alright,” she sniffs, “but if you change your mind, I’ll tell you.”

Smoothing a hand over her hair, he smiles, “I won’t,” then kisses her forehead, lips lingering until she pats his chest.

“I need to pee.”

As she slides off his lap, Dean chuckles, asking, “Food or sleep.”

Stopping outside the bathroom door, she asks, “Can I take a look at your pictures?”

“Uh,” he rubs a hand over the side of his neck, “sure.”

“Yay. Pictures, food, then sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Seated in front of her laptop a few minutes later, she sees his smirk out of the corner of her eye while he settles on the edge of the bed as she clicks on the folder containing the pictures he’d taken that day. Halfway through the journey, and after everything that happened, she began to wonder if he would take any, but at a particularly scenic rest stop, she’d come out of the restroom to see him snapping a couple of shots. It’s hard to suppress the eye roll and snort of laughter as the thumbnails load.

All the images are of rocks.

Dean snickers softly, and she knows he’s waiting for her to admonish him or make a sarcastic remark. He thinks he’s so clever. Instead, she clicks open the first photo without a word. After a few moments of silence, he moves to the window and rocks on his heels as she studies the picture. “The composition is good,” she finally says. Reviewing the next image, she compliments him on the focus area.

After the fourth one, he sits beside her, laying the open journal on the table, asking questions, and taking notes on her suggestions.

A dull thud and the delicious scent of coffee greet her as she rolls to her side, snuggling deeper into the covers. Peeling an eyelid open, she’s assaulted with a blinding smile and glorious eye crinkles as Dean squats next to the bed. “Time to rise and shine, gorgeous,” he chirps.

“What time is it?” she groans. It feels like it’s way too early for so much cheeriness.

“About six.”

“SIX?” she grouses, covering her head with the blanket, continuing to mumble.

Dean pulls the bedding away from her face and chuckles, “Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said …screw you,” she grumbles, clearer so he can’t miss it. “It’s too damn early. We don’t need to leave until eight.”

“Well, if we don’t need to leave until eight, you could screw me,” he teases.

Trying to wrestle the covers back, she huffs in annoyance and slaps at his hand, muttering about annoying, too-cheery morning people, but a tiny part of her is thrilled that he seems eager to carry on with the journey. Giving up when Dean yanks the bedding entirely off her, she whines, “There better be some damn good coffee in that cup.”

~~~~

Today’s stretch had gone a lot smoother than yesterday. They’d taken a detour into Farmington, NM, for lunch and spent a couple of hours walking around the city and taking in the local culture.

Dean was more at ease, a smile gracing his face more often than not. The crossbody leather strap sat on his shoulder, camera at the ready, resting against his hip. She noticed he’d taken more pictures throughout the day, too. He had fallen short of the quota yesterday with only twelve, but she wasn’t about to reprimand him like a kid who didn’t do his homework. She was just happy he’d made an attempt.

Dean whistles low as Nic pulls into the hotel's entrance that evening. “This is a helluva lot nicer than where we normally stay.” He winks, voice coated in exuberance and lush pink lips forming a mischievous grin. “Sammy’s gonna be pissed when he sees the credit card bill. First the camera equipment, now this.” He laughs, tilting his head out the window to look up at the ornate four-story structure.

Delight in his excitement spreads through her veins, and tears press at her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she missed seeing the joy he found in the simplest things and hopes the rest of the trip will bring more of that out of him. Before the emotions can take complete control, she blinks the tears back and climbs out of the car.

Opening the hatch, she hands the keys to the valet as another staff member places their bags on a luggage rack. Dean’s standing a couple of feet from the car, looking out over the desert scenery. Lifting the camera, he takes a couple of photos as the sun dips beyond the horizon.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing it’s not on the magic credit card,” she states, stepping up next to him. Dean’s confused expression is adorable, and she can’t help but giggle. Gripping his hand, she tugs him toward the revolving door. “Come on, handsome. This is just the beginning.”

Love Me Some Pie tag list:

@akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

#spnchristmasbingo #road trip #tgwrc: part six #011123

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