nishymoon

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When I found new photos of my husband Joey I scream so bad

Source: https://www.instagram.com/p/DJZDZ6hCkIu/?igsh=MXg5eTJ3Zm02emNnMQ==

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happy birthday joey ♡!!

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Chibi joey sketches

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ERM I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO SAYYY-

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yo can y'all watch them while i go smoke

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Take a break

Warnings: n/a

Joey Jordison x reader

The studio was eerily quiet. Normally, it was a place filled with the rhythmic pounding of drums, distorted guitar riffs, and Joey’s passionate muttering as he lost himself in his craft. But tonight, the only sound was the distant hum of the amplifiers and the soft creak of the door as you stepped inside.

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. Again.

Joey had been pushing himself way too hard lately—long rehearsals, late-night recording sessions, barely any sleep in between. He kept saying he was fine, that he just had to “get this last part down” or “finish tweaking this section,” but you could see it. The exhaustion was written all over him—dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was watching, the way he barely touched his food when you reminded him to eat.

You knew his passion was what made him great. But it was also what would break him if he wasn’t careful.

And now here he was, slumped over the drum kit, passed out cold.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him. His arms were draped over his snare drum, head resting on the toms, his body rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. His black hoodie was bunched up at his shoulders, and his drumsticks were still loosely held in his fingers, as if he had been mid-beat before exhaustion took over.

Shaking your head, you walked over, crouching beside him. “Joey,” you murmured, brushing a few strands of his dark hair out of his face. He didn’t stir.

You sighed, more frustrated than angry, and gently shook his shoulder. “Joey, wake up.”

A groggy groan escaped his lips, his body shifting slightly as he blinked up at you. His eyes were unfocused, hazy with exhaustion, and for a moment, he just stared at you as if trying to remember where he was.

Then, recognition flickered in his gaze, and he attempted a lazy smirk. “Hey, babe,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You were supposed to come home hours ago.”

Joey yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Just… lost track of time.”

“You passed out on your drum kit, Joey,” you stressed, standing up. “That’s not losing track of time. That’s your body literally forcing you to stop.”

He groaned and sat up slowly, wincing as he stretched. “I was fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.

You scoffed. “You don’t look fine.”

Joey gave you a lopsided grin, clearly trying to downplay his exhaustion. “Aw, but you still think I’m cute, right?”

You weren’t in the mood to play along. “Joey, this isn’t funny.”

His smile faded at your serious tone.

“I mean it,” you continued, stepping closer. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground. You’re barely sleeping, barely eating, and now you’re literally collapsing in the middle of recording sessions.” Your voice wavered slightly, and you hated how worried you sounded, but you couldn’t help it. “I get that you love what you do, but you’re not indestructible, Joey.”

For a long moment, he just sat there, staring down at his drumsticks in his lap. His fingers twirled one absentmindedly, but his usual playfulness was gone.

Then, with a heavy sigh, he reached out, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. He pressed his forehead against your stomach, his grip loose but desperate, like he was clinging to you just as much as he was the moment.

“I know,” he murmured.

You softened at the quiet admission, threading your fingers through his hair. “Then why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Joey exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your shirt. “Because I feel like if I stop, everything’s gonna fall apart.”

You frowned, running your hand through his hair in slow, soothing motions. “Joey…”

“I mean it,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “The band, the music, everything… it’s what keeps me going. If I let myself rest, even for a second, I feel like I’ll lose it.”

Your chest tightened. You knew how much Slipknot meant to him, how much his drumming defined him. It wasn’t just a job—it was his life. His escape. His way of proving to himself, to the world, that he was somebody.

But at what cost?

You knelt down, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You won’t lose anything, Joey. The band’s not going anywhere. Your talent’s not going anywhere. But you… you’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep this up.”

He looked at you for a long time, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with a weak smile, he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapped around you tightly.

“I’ll take a break,” he murmured, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “But only if you stay with me.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere, dumbass.”

He chuckled softly. “Good. ‘Cause I kinda like having you around.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Then start taking better care of yourself, Joey. I don’t wanna have to keep finding you passed out in random places.”

He hummed, nuzzling into you. “No promises.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t let go. Fine. If he wasn’t going to take care of himself, then you’d just have to do it for him.

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Under the stage lights

Warnings: N/A

Word count: 1320

A/n: Hey Maggots! This is my first imagine, and I’m super excited to share it! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for reading!

Gif By Mattel

Border by Kodaswrld

You’ve always admired the band from behind the scenes. As a roadie for Slipknot, you’re used to being in the shadows—setting up gear, tuning drums, making sure everything goes smoothly before the show kicks off. But tonight, something feels different. The energy in the air is electric, and you can’t help but let yourself get caught up in the anticipation as the crowd grows louder.

You’re standing backstage, eyeing the chaos that comes with prepping for the set, but your mind keeps wandering back to Joey. The way he commands the drums, his intense focus, and that raw power in every strike—it pulls you in. You can’t help but steal glances at him whenever he’s near. It’s not just his talent you admire, but the way he becomes one with the music, as if nothing else exists in the world but the beat.

As the band takes the stage, the first note hits, and everything around you fades. The sound of Joey’s drumming cuts through the air, deep and rhythmic, the kind of sound that vibrates through your bones. You try to keep your cool, but it’s impossible to ignore how his energy is filling up the whole room, how his intensity draws you in. You’re hooked.

The show goes on, and despite being backstage, you can’t help but let yourself get lost in the performance. You find yourself nodding along, tapping your foot, and even swaying with the rhythm of his drumming. Joey has this magnetic energy that makes it hard not to stare. His hands move so fast, and it’s like you can’t take your eyes off him.

When the set ends, you’re still buzzing from the energy of the show. You’re busy packing up some of the equipment, trying to stay in your zone, when you suddenly hear footsteps approaching. You glance up, and it’s him—Joey. He’s walking toward you, that familiar smirk already on his face, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Didn’t know you were such a fan of me specifically,” he says, his tone light, teasing, but you can tell there’s something else behind it. He stops a few feet away, crossing his arms.

You freeze for a moment, a little caught off guard. You were so into the music that you hadn’t even realized he might notice. You feel your cheeks warm, and you immediately try to play it off. “I mean, I’m a fan of all you guys. You’re all incredible,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too flustered. But Joey raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Yeah?” he says, his smirk widening. “Because I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at me all through the set. You seemed pretty into my drumming.”

You can’t hide the surprise on your face, and you find yourself stumbling over your words. “I wasn’t—I mean, I wasn’t just staring at you. I… I was watching the whole performance. You know, just enjoying the music.”

Joey chuckles, taking a step closer, clearly enjoying how flustered you’re getting. “I get it,” he says, his voice quieter now. “But you weren’t just enjoying the music. There’s something about the way you looked at me tonight. Like you were paying attention to every hit I made.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t decide whether to play it cool or admit the truth. You’ve always admired him—how could you not? The way he plays is insane—and, yeah, maybe you did get lost in his rhythm a little more than you intended. But you don’t want to make it awkward either.

You shift nervously, trying to find the right words. “I mean… yeah, I guess I do get caught up in the rhythm when you’re drumming. It’s hard not to, really,” you say, hoping it sounds casual enough, even though you’re still feeling the heat in your cheeks.

Joey steps closer again, and you feel your pulse quicken. There’s a playful glint in his eyes now, but something more serious in the way he’s looking at you. “You’re not fooling me,” he says with a grin. “You’ve got that look, like you’re really seeing something more than just the drums. It’s pretty obvious, actually.”

You swallow hard, realizing that he’s not just messing with you. He knows. And part of you wonders if he likes the attention, or if he’s just messing around. Either way, the way he’s looking at you is making it hard to think straight.

“Well, maybe I’m just really into your drumming,” you say, trying to play it off, but now you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You are pretty good.”

Joey’s grin softens, but there’s still that glint in his eyes. “Pretty good, huh? I’ll take it.” He leans against an equipment case, crossing his arms, but he doesn’t break eye contact. “I’m glad someone appreciates it. Most people just hear the beats, but you… you were actually listening. That’s kinda cool.”

For a moment, there’s silence between you two, and you start to wonder if you’ve said too much. But Joey finally breaks the silence, giving you a wink.

“Alright, I’ll let you off the hook for now. But next time, just admit it—you’re a fan of me.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of something more, something that makes your stomach flutter.

You nod, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart. “Yeah, sure. Next time,” you say, keeping your tone light.

With one last look, Joey pushes himself off the equipment and starts walking back toward the band. “Catch you later, yeah?” he calls over his shoulder, a teasing edge to his voice.

You watch him go, your mind still reeling from the interaction. There’s something about the way he talked to you—something that makes your heart race in a way it never has before. You can’t help but smile to yourself, already anticipating the next time you get to see him play. Maybe you’ll even admit you’re a fan of his after all.

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Superball

I want so much read this manga ❤️

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Colouring a doodle I drew a while ago

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“He’s running!”

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Favorite MFKR Joey ❤❤❤

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JOEY JORDISON Preshow Interview | Peoria, IL | October 2001

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Slipknot Drabbles: What They Wear To Bed FLUFF

Hello! I have a request for Pyjama Anon! Just some short drabbles about what the guys wear to bed! I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!

Divider Credit: @adornedwithlight

Corey:

Corey was all about comfort. Performing was hard on his body, more often than not leaving him with sore muscles and his throat completely raw. There was something almost therapeutic about throwing on his favorite pair of fleece pajama pants and an old, worn  T-shirt that had definitely seen better days. You would slip into bed together, hushed goodnights and soft kisses as you settled into the mattress. He loves the way it felt when you would slip your hands under his shirt, letting your delicate touch roam over his body. He groans as you knead into his tired muscles, “don’t worry about me, baby.” He argued, but he made no move to stop your attentive care.

“You work too hard,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You gotta let me take care of you sometimes, yeah?” It was almost like a routine you had worked yourselves into, most of your nights ending the same way, with you noticing your boyfriend had drifted off by the sound of him snoring. It was comfortable, just how Corey liked it.

Sid:

It was impossible to keep clothes on Sid to begin with. He would constantly lose his shoes in the hotel rooms, you'd blink and he's suddenly walking around in nothing but his boxers in the tour bus, and if it was even a little too warm outside? Forget it, the shirt's coming off. Bed time was absolutely no different. He would start off in a T-shirt and some sweats, the two of you cuddled up in bed while you would absentmindedly scroll through your phones or watch a movie. Your hands would eventually drift under his shirt, just wanting to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He would just chuckle, sitting you up and slipping the shirt over his head, pressing a kiss to your temple as you settled back down. Eventually, he would end up complaining about how hot it was, kicking his sweatpants onto the floor. He would chuckle as you teased him for always being naked. “Gotta let the body breathe, babe.” He would joke in response. Sometimes, he managed to keep his boxers on the entire night. But, more often than not, those also ended up getting discarded on the floor with the rest of his clothes. It was hard enough to keep clothes on him to begin with, it became even harder due to the fact that your boyfriend was almost always insatiably horny.

Chris:

There was nothing that you loved more than crawling into bed at the end of the long day, something that was only made more enjoyable now that you had someone to settle down with for the night. Chris slept hot, always. It was a blessing in the winter, being able to curl up against your own personal heater. But, he was also no stranger to the nefarious pranks from his band mates, meaning he always had to be somewhat clothed. Often opting for a thin pair of basketball shorts, maybe a T-shirt if it was particularly cold that night. Chris absolutely adores sleeping skin to skin if that's something you're comfortable with. He loves having you pressed to his strong chest, his fingers lazily dragging over your muscles, feeling how they shifted under his delicate touch. Your nights would always be filled with hushed conversations and laughter, Chris unable to stop himself from stealing chaste kisses that would leave you giggling until you eventually drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Jim:

Sleeping with Jim was always a mess of tangled limbs and tangled limbs as he crushed you underneath his massive body. Usually opting to sleep in just his boxers it always presented you the perfect opportunity to cuddle up with him. He would open his arms for you to crawl into, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nestled against him, your body molding perfectly against his. You were the puzzle piece he never knew he needed up until the fateful day you two had met. Now, he couldn’t imagine spending a night away from you. Whether it was crammed into one of the bunks in the tour bus, or being sprawled out across his too big bed, only to end up tangled together in the middle of the mattress come morning, Jim always needed you within arms reach, he couldn’t sleep otherwise. “Come here, baby.” He mumbles groggily. He hikes your leg over his hip, the heavy weight of his muscular arm settling across your waist. “Comfy?” He asks quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as you let out a hum in response. He gently cards his fingers through your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest eventually lulling you to sleep.

Mick:

Mick chuckles as you pout at him from the edge of the bed. “Just go grab one of my shirts out of the drawer, love.”

“But, yours is warm.” You whine in response. “And it smells like you.” He sighs, eyeing you playfully.

“Always so needy, aren’t you mama?” He teases, letting out a soft laugh at the sight of your flustered expression. “Anything for my pretty girl.” He slips his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in a pair of simple, black sweatpants. You pull the soft fabric over your head, the way too big shirt pooling around your thighs. Mick lets out a quiet hum as his gaze drags hungrily over you.

“I definitely can’t complain about you stealing my clothes when you look like that.” He takes your hand, pulling you into bed next to him. You settle against his strong chest smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Good night, you little thief.” He teases, making you laugh. You share a few more soft kisses until you eventually drift off in his arms.

Joey:

Joey groans, rolling out his shoulders as he kicks the hotel room door shut behind you. “You were incredible out there tonight.” You say with a smile, your arms sliding over his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He grins back, letting out a hum as your lips slot against his. “It’s all thanks to you being there.” He whispers against your lips, stealing one more chaste kiss before pulling away. Your cheeks grow warm at his sweet words, the two of you separating in order to get ready for bed. You slip under the covers with a sigh, settling underneath the cover while you wait for Joey to finish up in the bathroom. “Jesus, it’s fucking freezing in here.” You hear him complain as his stark naked form darts from the bathroom, practically diving into the bed. You giggle, pulling him into your arms once you manage to find him under the mess of blankets.

“Well, maybe if you actually wore some clothes it wouldn’t be so cold.” You tease in response.

“Yeah, but this is so much more comfortable.” He rebuttals with a smirk. He wraps his arms around you, his head nestling against your chest, making you giggle in response. He lets out a hum of approval as you play with his hair, his breathing growing slow and even as he drifts off in your loving embrace.

Paul:

You squeal as Paul blankets his full weight on top of you, he groans as he settles, chuckling when he feels you struggling against him. “You’re crushing me!” You giggle, pounding on him with your fists.

“But, I have a crush on you.” He argues back with a laugh. Eventually giving in, he rolls over, pulling you on top of him in the process. You let out a pleased hum as he presses his lips to yours. You smile as you cuddle into him, your hands wandering over his strong chest and soft stomach, tracing along the waistband of the shorts he had worn to bed. “What are you doing?” He asks with a curious, playful smile.

“You just feel nice, that’s my favorite thing about cuddling with you is being able to rub my hands over you.” His features soften, studying you with an expression of pure adoration.

“You're sweet.” He cups your cheek in his hand, gently angling your jaw upward in order to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls you against him, enjoying the feeling of your fingers absentmindedly wandering over him until you both eventually fell asleep.

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It's just a social experiment

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Warm up sketches i did today 🖤