#shake your moneymaker

[jt1674]

[odk-2]

Elmore James - Shake Your Moneymaker (1961) Elmore James from: “Look on Yonder Wall” / “Shake Your Moneymaker”

Blues | Chicago Blues | Slide Guitar

JukeHostUK (left click = play) (320kbps)

~or~

Tumblr (left click = play) (128kbps)

Personnel: Elmore James: Vocals / Slide Guitar Johnny “Big Moose” Walker: Piano Sammy Lee Bully: Bass "King" Mose Taylor: Drums

Produced by Bobby Robinson

Recorded: @ The J&M Studios in New Orleans, Louisiana USA during June - September 1961

Released: December, 1961 Fire Records

Enjoy Records (Reissue) October, 1965

[rastronomicals]

7:20 AM EST January 6, 2024:

George Thorogood & The Destroyers -   "Shake Your Moneymaker" From the album Anthology (August 29, 2000)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

[dear-mrs-otome]

Cybird knows a cash cow when they smell it - this means that for at least a couple of days three out of three gachas feature Jude

[demac9]

My latest creation for my YouTube Channel @ https://www.youtube.com/@DonMac   “Shake Your Moneymaker” - Fleetwood Mac (Lyrics)

[ezekiel-krishna]

🔢 Your 2024 Prediction (Numerology) Part 2

To Calculate Your Personal Year > Refer here

Personal Year 5

Get ready for some exciting changes in your life! Things are about to shake up and nothing will stay the same. From unexpected travel opportunities to new romantic relationships, there will be plenty of chances for you to break free from the monotony of your routine. In your personal year, Mercury will lead the way, bringing forth endless possibilities and even the chance to start your own business. When the Universal year (Saturn) combines with your Personal year (Mercury), get ready for a thrilling ride. This combination will bring excitement and fun moments into your life. However, don't forget that Saturn also brings a sense of seriousness and responsibility, which may lead to some conflicts.

You may find yourself yearning for something different in your job, business, or even your relationship. If you're in a relationship, this is the perfect time to travel together, do things your way, and have a blast. You might feel a bit bored and stuck, but Saturn is here to push you out of your comfort zone. This year, you'll be resistant to anyone telling you what to do. You just want to do things your way. However, Saturn reminds you that compromise is necessary. Learn to cooperate, have open discussions with others, and avoid being too selfish. If you can do that, everything will turn out just fine.

The good news is that Saturn is associated with power and success, while this personal year is all about money. So, get ready for some fantastic moneymaking opportunities. If you're a businessperson, expect growth or even the chance to start a brand new venture. Exciting times are ahead!

This is a fantastic time to shake things up in your business or find a new business partner to bring fresh ideas to the table. By expanding your business boundaries, you'll open up new money-making opportunities. Even if you're currently employed, you can make your job more exciting by consulting with authority figures and trying something different. And if you're looking for a new job, this is the perfect year to explore different options, especially in the finance sector. It's a great year for business all around!

Not only will your business thrive, but your friendships and social network will also expand. You'll meet new people who will bring excitement and stimulation into your life. This is the year to communicate and promote yourself, so get out there and make connections. And for students, this is a favorable time to make changes in your education and pursue new opportunities. In your personal relationships, this year will be more about having fun together rather than making serious commitments.

Next year will be more focused on commitment, so take it easy and enjoy the present. If you're a creative person, whether you're a musician, writer, journalist, artist, actor, or actress, this year will be filled with amazing creative possibilities. You'll be inspired and stimulated like never before. Overall, this year holds immense potential for growth and success in various aspects of your life. Embrace the opportunities that come your way and make the most of this exciting time.

Personal Year 6

If you find yourself in a personal year 6 in 2024, get ready for a year filled with romance and love! With Venus as your ruler this year, love will bloom and take center stage in your life.During a six personal year, you will experience many domestic changes and decisions. However, it's important to remember that 2024 is also a Saturn universal year. This combination of Venus and Saturn signifies that your romantic relationships should be long-lasting and serious. Flirtation is not what you're after; you desire a committed and permanent relationship.

This year is particularly favorable for starting a family, having children, or getting married. Venus rules pregnancy, so the possibility of having children is high for many people in 2024. In a six personal year, decision-making becomes crucial. You will often find yourself faced with choices, whether it's related to work or relationships. When it comes to relationships, commitment is key. In a Venus year, everything thrives on mutual cooperation, so you will need to make decisions about commitment in your relationships. It's a joint decision that you have to make, which is why many people choose to get married or even divorced during a year six.

The same goes for domestic matters. Should you move, stay, rent, sell, or buy a property? There are so many major decisions to be made. Who you live with and how your home environment functions will also require careful consideration. Do you need to make repairs, changes, or simply do something different? The choices you make in your domestic life will have a significant impact on your overall well-being.

This year, it's important to address any lingering family issues head-on. Decisions need to be made, but ultimately things will settle down. Venus encourages cooperation, so involving others in your choices will be beneficial. If you have children, your relationship with them will improve, and friendships will flourish. Harmony is in the air, creating a positive year ahead for many. Remember to watch out for overindulgence in food or spending. Generosity is key, so giving to others will bring rewards. Make the most of this year!

Personal Year 7

This year holds a special significance as the number seven transports you beyond the ordinary and into a realm of higher vibrations. It is a time for self-exploration, meditation, delving into spirituality, astrology, and the study of the occult. Not only is it a fruitful year for students engaged in research and studies, but it also encourages questioning and introspection.

During your personal year seven, you may find yourself becoming more introverted, seeking solitude and personal space. However, this does not mean you will disconnect from others entirely. Instead, you will require some time alone to reflect and recharge. This personal year will also bring forth connections to your past, whether it be through places you have visited or passed by in a previous life. As you embark on spiritual journeys, whether to foreign lands or unexplored territories, you may feel a mysterious pull, as if you are rediscovering hidden aspects of your soul.

For everyone, this is a Saturn universal year, which means you may face challenging decisions, tough business deals, and potentially stressful relationships. Your spouse or partner may struggle to understand you, perceiving you as somewhat withdrawn. However, when it comes to important aspects of your material life, such as finances, business, and employment, things will naturally fall into place. Trust that these matters will resolve themselves in due course.

Spend some time in nature to connect with yourself and possibly meet a new animal companion. The healing energy from trees and wildlife is powerful this year. You might also explore various breathing techniques, yoga, or physical exercise, but remember not to overexert yourself. Moderation is key in moving forward this year.

Personal Year 8

In 2024, if it's your eighth personal year, get ready for a double eight vibration that will bring about a significant turning point in your life. This is the perfect time to make a major change and embrace the opportunities that come your way. Success is within reach, and you have the chance to experience significant material gains, career advancements, or find a more fulfilling workplace where you can truly thrive.

Not only will this year bring positive changes in your business, work life, or serious relationships, but it also presents an opportunity for you to make important decisions for yourself. The power to shape your future lies in your hands. Remember, this year is not just about power, progress, and success, but it also holds the potential for retirement. If you choose to retire, you can expect a generous pension package or the freedom to retire on your own terms. Embrace the possibilities that lie ahead and make the most of this transformative year.

This year, what you truly desire is stability. Feeling secure and safe is your top priority. If your business or job is stagnant, it might be time to consider letting go. The number eight personal year signifies fruition and material success. Many people reach the pinnacle of their success during this year. When it comes to relationships, remember to put in effort. Consider doing charity work and sharing with others, as giving back is crucial. The symbol of eight reminds us that what we give comes back to us, so being generous and selfless this year will set you up for a positive future.

Personal Year 9

In 2024, if you find yourself in your ninth personal year, you've reached the end of the numerological cycle. It's a time of culmination, where success and promotion are possible, but overall, things are winding down and coming to a close. Embrace the endings this year brings, as some things are not meant to continue. While this doesn't necessarily indicate major life changes like divorce or job loss, shifts in relationships and career paths may be necessary in a nine personal year.

The ninth personal year is influenced by Mars, while the universal year is ruled by Saturn, making it a karmic period with malefic planets at play. Despite this, Mars brings immense power and energy - mentally, emotionally, and physically. However, this abundance of energy can sometimes lead to chaos. In a nine personal year, it feels like everyone around you needs something from you, leaving little time for yourself. This can result in feeling like you're spinning in circles without a clear direction.

My suggestion to you is to focus on what truly brings you purpose. The key to feeling rejuvenated is to declutter your surroundings - be it your home, desk, workplace, or even your body and health. Let go of unnecessary baggage and people. Take it easy and avoid extremes to prevent conflicts with others. Traveling, whether locally or abroad, can provide a refreshing break from your routine.

It may require energy, but the revitalization you gain from it is worth it, especially in a nine personal year. Considering this year is a heavy karmic number eight (Saturn) and you are in a number nine ruled by Mars, it's crucial to avoid contentious situations with your boss, spouse, kids, or anyone else. The more you steer clear of conflicts, the happier you'll be.

This combination of Mars and Saturn can really leave you feeling frustrated and stuck. It's like you're trying to push forward, but everything just seems to be going against you. But here's the thing - maybe what you're trying to start isn't meant to start right now. That's what I'm trying to tell you.

Instead of banging your head against the wall, why not try a different approach? Declutter your mind and your surroundings, go on a little adventure, get your body moving with some exercise. Trust me, these simple actions can help release that frustration and inner anger you're feeling.

The main idea here is to sort out the things in your life that you've left unsorted. But remember, this isn't about starting all over again. It's about preparing yourself for the fresh start that's coming next year. Whether it's starting a new business, a new relationship, or simply getting to know someone, it's best to hold off until the very end of this year. That's when the new energy will come in and set the stage for a successful beginning. So, don't worry, you can still make plans and set goals. Just make sure to formalize them next year. That's the best way forward for you.

Remember This is a General Analysis

For Paid Personalized Analysis & Reviews ➤Check Here Masterlist ➤ Check Here

[coldresolve]

Moneymakers, pt.xlv // Speaking Your Language

Previous / AO3 / Wattpad / Masterlist / Next

Freezing your balls off, Renee has to admit, is a weirdly sobering endeavor.

A second cigarette is held loosely between his index finger and thumb, ember flaring at every turn of the wind. He squats in the darkest corner of the patio with his arms poised on his knees, shivering whenever the subzero weather manages to slip through his clothes to cool the sweat that lingers on his skin. Hands still shaking slightly, but that might just be from cold; his face is starting to go numb, too, and whatever sparse movement he makes, like bringing the cigarette to his lips, or refreshing the screen, feels stiff. Requires effort.

Can we talk?

Received at 6:07 – but Renee didn’t read it until 7:51.

It started snowing sometime during the whole ordeal. Not enough to stick the landing, but every few breaths or so, Renee feels the prick in his throat of a snowflake he inhales. He can’t see the moon, can’t even see past the light emanating from the house; anything beyond the halfway point of the back yard is a void.

The screen dims slightly. He brushes his thumb against it, and it comes back to life. Another lungful of smoke, thick in his throat, makes the saliva in his mouth foam up. He swallows the bitterness. The phone is close enough to his face that he can focus on the individual pixels that make up the text. The cracks draw an almost imperceptible shadow across the screen, and he wonders if it’s a trick of the broken glass, or if the LEDs underneath have been damaged in some way. The tiny clock in the corner reads 8:54.

Fancy that, he’s already gotten older.

He shivers. The screen dims. He refreshes it. He takes another drag.

It feels like he’s been stuck in this cycle for hours, but whenever he tries to respond, something gets the better of him. What’s there to talk about? What part of it hasn’t already been said? The quiet reluctance in Lazarus’ demeanor, the air of guilt in that motel room. The moment of hesitation when Renee blurted it out – he's not blind. The sex is good, but it’s just not going to be them. Laz is too busy; Renee is too…

He takes another drag – but it burns in his mouth, awful out of nowhere - he’s smoking the fucking filter. Hacking loudly, he throws the butt away, and spends a good minute desperately spitting out the foul taste. When he has finally gathered his bearings and looks up again, the screen hasn’t just dimmed into standby, it has turned off completely.

Renee is a hair’s breadth from pressing the home button to unlock it again, but he stops himself. He’ll have to face it eventually, but maybe tonight is not the night. He feels depleted. Adding the aftermath of a more explicit rejection to the tally won’t do him any favors, and he’s not sure he has enough remaining control tonight to curb what he says.

Laz deserves better.

Grimacing, Renee rubs his forehead hard with a knuckle, settling further back against the wall. It just feels fucking awful. The cracks forming in the wall of shit he has managed to build up. What does he look like in the eyes of another? In the eyes of Lazarus? The unstable wreck of a man, barely grasping the tethers that keep him grounded, losing them over and over and over again. A man who somehow manages to fuck up every relationship he gets into, every job he works, every opportunity he is given.

And in the eyes of Conrad – the same, now enraged. Violent and cruel for no other reason than to gain… not control, but just the feeling of being in control. And failing miserably at even that.

He thinks about suicide again, and it’s different this time. Not some intrusive thought hammering through his skull, forcing his focus. Not something wreathed in spite or self-hatred, or glamorized through mental images of gore, the mess he’d leave behind, the trails of reactions to a violent death. This is calm. Clear. Sober.

He thinks about it as an option.

Quietly, along with the other routes he could go from here. Turning himself in and dealing with the repercussions of what he’s done. Leaving the house in the dead of night, fleeing this shithole state, fleeing the whole country. Or, well… he could just check out.

It wouldn’t have to be theatric. He could get drunk, down a bag and a half of pills, fall asleep. No drama, no shouting, no big parade. Scribbled on a post-it note on a desk nearby, perhaps, one last sentiment for the world: Yeah, nah, I’m good.

Strangely comforting, that whole idea. Grounding.

The breeze is picking up, the snow falls heavier. It melts on his skin, but the crystals on his sleeves glimmer in the low light. Somewhere far away, coming from the direction of the woods, the high-pitched wail of an animal, uncertain, seeking. A fox, maybe. The silence is otherwise his only companion.

Eventually, he lets out a halfhearted sigh. Presses the home button. With his eyes adjusted to the dark, the screen’s light stings his eyes, and he squints to read the time.

9:25.

His thighs ache from the uncomfortable position. Although he has cooled down enough to no longer shake, the iciness in his fingers has long since started to hurt. With a grunt – several, actually – he hauls his stiff body to its feet, pacing for a while to get the blood running. Rolls his shoulders and then his neck through several deep breaths, before he stretches his arms wide, and finally settles with a drawn-out sigh.

Maybe he has already made that decision, he thinks, if he’s being honest. Maybe that’s why he keeps drifting back to it, time after time. He’s always known he wouldn’t make it to thirty.

Metal clacks as he pulls the door handle, pushing the sliding glass door to the side, kicking off his shoes. The living room is dark, but beyond the nonexistent threshold to the kitchen area, the lamp above the dining table casts out its warm yellow glow. Renee swears he can taste bile in his throat at the sight of Davin sitting there, but he bites it down. Decides aggressively ignoring the fucker will do for tonight.

As he shuts the door again, shrugging off his jacket, the warmth of the house finally starts to seep in, searing through frozen skin. He throws the jacket over the armrest of the couch, rubbing life into his hands as he makes his way through the kitchen, gaze locked on the hallway –

And Davin casually gets to his feet, stepping out to block his way.

Stopping in his tracks, Renee’s hands drop to his sides. He takes a step to the left.

Snorting, Davin does the same.

Renee sharply turns on his heel. Lets out a terse laugh toward the ceiling. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. Sit down.”

“We’re not doing this.”

“We are, Renee.”

Renee turns back, shaking his head. “I’m gonna go to my room and get blasted, actually. High off my fucking—”

“Sit. Down.” Davin’s eyes are dark, and he doesn’t manage to keep the disdain out of his voice.

Renee snarls. “Or what, exactly?”

Davin’s jaw works, breaths coming slow and steady through his nose, eyes scanning his opponent. “I think we’ve left a lot between the lines,” he says low. “Things we might have to work out more explicitly.”

“Schedule a fucking appointment, then.”

“Conrad is right. I am using you.”

Renee pauses at that. His breathing is starting to pick up, the familiar heat in his chest. Hands flexing at his sides. Gnashing teeth.

“I’ve manipulated you,” Davin continues slowly. “Tried to get in your head. Steer you around. Pinned you to a sense of obligation.” He juts out his chin, raising a brow. “Do you want to know why?”

“In the name of good partnership, I assume,” Renee bites out dryly.

Davin smirks. Takes a deep breath, nodding his head slightly. “I put a price tag on entry,” he mutters. “Point zero two per view, eight and a half thousand viewers. Give and take, with the current exchange on ether, that’s four hundred thousand dollars.” With an earnest expression, he holds up a finger for emphasis. “In one night, Renee.”

The sneer fades from Renee’s face. He stares at Davin, shoulders sinking somewhat.

“We’re getting where we wanted to be,” Davin says, eyes intense. “I’m not gonna let you run this shit into the ground. Not now. Not after everything we’ve built here. I am trying to make this thing fucking worth it.”

Renee swallows thick, closing his mouth.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t see, perfectly clearly, the sheer scale of that number. Be lying if he said he could remember ever possessing even an eighth of that throughout his entire adult life. A decade in abject poverty. The memory of biting back shame, having to ask near-strangers if he could spend the night; and curling up behind dumpsters when he couldn’t.

400.000.

And yet…

He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, eyes drifting to the knife clipped in Davin’s pocket – and the hand that has hovered next to it since this conversation started.

A knife, he realizes, that Davin doesn’t need to defend himself against Conrad.

The breath he ejects from his nose feels hollow. An involuntary chuckle bubbles up from his chest soon after, which in turn veers into free laughter. He turns, pacing a few steps through the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. Turns back around to face Davin, grinning wide. “If you wanted to call me stupid, you could’ve just led with that, you know?”

Davin frowns. “What?”

Renee throws out his hands. “I guess I gotta hand it to you. Owning up to being manipulative, as a manipulation tactic – that’s some fucking four dimensional chess shit.” He takes a step towards Davin. “What’s next, huh? If that doesn’t work, where do we go from here?”

Another step, and Davin shifts, almost imperceptibly. Shoulders set, eyes drifting to Renee’s chest – to keep his hips, hands and face all within the same periphery.

The gaze, Renee thinks, of someone who thinks they know what to look for. He chuckles, but it slides into a grimace of contempt. “I guess you could threaten to kill me.”

When he takes another step, Davin takes half a step backwards, blading his body – as if fights are neat enough to be swayed by the stance assumed before they even start. In Renee’s experience, the only thing that makes a real difference is size.

“C’mon, fucking reptoid,” he jeers. “Make it explicit. What are you gonna do?”

Another step. Two and a half, maybe three feet, is all that remains between them. Renee’s fists are clenched, core bubbling.

“What are you gonna do to me?”

Close enough.

Renee levels a hard shove to Davin’s chest, one that makes the man stumble backwards a few steps, off-center, with Renee following closely in his wake.

“Tell me. What the fuck are you g—”

It happens so fast, Renee barely has time to brace. Davin moves, but not to reel back for a punch, like Renee expected – instead he sharply whips his arm up, and his elbow hits Renee square in the face. His head snaps back, ears rumbling with the sound of cracking cartilage. He loses his balance instantly, sinking to his ass. Struggles to at least not keel all the way to his back, and blinking at a momentary blindness, he holds one arm in front of himself to block, but he can’t see if more blows are coming or not, or from where. The blood starts pouring quickly, a familiar touch down the front of his face, but the sensation is stronger than his usual nosebleeds. Really, pouring.

“Fucking idiot,” Davin sneers somewhere above him.

Renee instinctually follows the sound with his eyes, but his vision hasn’t returned yet. It’s like he’s passed out and conscious at the same time, black as night. He doesn’t know how to react to it. Just sits there, dazed.

Footsteps. The sound of something clicking.

A light that hits the wall, and in front of it, the vague silhouette of a chair. It’s still dark, but he can see the Davin now, a few feet to the right - or something green and generally leg-shaped, at least, circling just out of his reach.

Renee places both hands on the ground, and plants one foot, relatively firmly, beneath him. Gasps with the effort it takes just to focus on moving his body in the way he wants it to. He manages to push himself to his feet, straightening up uncertainly, staggering. The front of his shirt sticks to his chest in some places. He’s pretty sure the majority of what he swallows isn’t spit.

Blinking against dizziness, Renee struggles to keep Davin’s figure in focus long enough to read his intentions. The man moves around him steadily, taking his time. “You don’t keep fighting after a blow like that. You’re not gonna win.” A pause. “But you know that already.”

Renee grunts. “Fuck y—”

Davin lunges forward, and Renee seizes up, hands shielding his abdomen – only for Davin’s fist to hammer into his throat. Renee drops again, back scraping the corner of the dining table on the way down, and curls around himself, both hands clutching his neck. Dimly aware of the pain. Dimly aware that he can’t breathe, as if the internal mechanisms in his neck are paralyzed, and that his chest is convulsing as a result. He rolls on to his stomach, shakily pushes to his hands and knees, and it feels like an eternity passes before he is finally able to let out a cough. Ragged and coarse, and unbelievably agonizing. The simple act of drawing air into his lungs feels like he might as well have swallowed a mouthful of glass.

“Do you need me to say it in your language, Vaughan?”

Blood drips between his hands, a steady flow from his face, as his body spasms. Renee tries to croak out a response in between coughing, only to realize his vocal cords are paralyzed, too; he can’t even groan in pain. In his periphery, Davin steps closer. A grasp in the short remains of his hair pulls his head backwards, painfully straining his neck. Davin peers down, expression unreadable. The whole room spins around his looming figure, as if gravity itself keeps shifting.

Instinctually, Renee raises his right arm to shield his face – hesitates – continues its trajectory. He wraps a hand around Davin’s wrist. His whole body sways with the effort, and his grip feels clumsy, and Davin doesn’t budge. Movements camouflaged by the constant involuntary jerks of his body, blood from his broken nose sliding down towards his throat. Renee tries to speak again, but the air just croaks in his chest, formless.

Davin smirks. “Maybe you are stupid.”

Renee blinks hard, but manages to swallow – fuck, it hurts. Then a grin spreads across his face, flashing whatever blood stains his teeth. That smug little smile on Davin’s face melts into caution.

Davin’s knife clicks in Renee’s left hand.

They both move roughly simultaneously.

Renee’s grip on Davin’s wrist tightens to keep him from retreating, at the same moment he drives the blade up – but Davin doesn’t pull away. Instead he rams his leg forward, deflecting the knife against his shin, slamming Renee hard enough to knock him backwards onto the floor – Davin himself landing with his full weight knee-first on Renee’s chest.

The dizzying experience it is to have the air forcibly pressed out of his lungs. Renee hears the raspy half-cry that tears past his lips, too stunned to orient himself for a fraction of a second, which is all it takes for Davin to force his arm up, slamming the hand still clutching the knife hard into the floorboards. By some fucking miracle, despite a shooting pain in the bone of his wrist, Renee’s grip doesn’t waver. Breathless, he bucks his body against Davin’s weight, and finally gets the wherewithal to start throwing jabs with his other hand. And he’s in a bad position, but he thinks one of them makes a solid connection with Davin’s side –

Before Davin brings another elbow down on his face. 

A sharp jolt of pain. Blindness, a static void. He can’t see what he’s struggling against, and when his left hand is slammed to the ground again, it opens, and the blade clatters against the floor. Heaving for breath as Davin’s weight momentarily leaves his chest, only to feel himself being hauled by the shoulder onto his stomach. He braces his hand against the floor to push himself up – but Davin’s knee resettles on his lower back, and his arm is yanked out from under him, pried up between his shoulder blades.

His right arm. The broken one.

Renee lets out a shout of frustration, writhing in vain to push the weight off his back. His voice is raw, but the words come out. “Get the fuck off me! Get the f—argh! Shit—”

It’s like Davin reads it in the way he’s struggling – he twists Renee’s arm just to the threshold where making wild movements no longer wins him a sliver of leverage, but instead causes enough pain to suck the air out of his lungs. Renee feels himself involuntarily curling in to Davin’s grasp, some desperate attempt to alleviate the strain on his broken bones, and in that moment, fingers grasp the his hair again, pulling his head back.

“I can tolerate a lot from you,” Davin growls in his ear. “But if you can’t show even a modicum of self-restraint here, I’m gonna drop the curtains on this whole fucking thing, you understand?”

“Argh, fuck, fuck—”

“I don’t care who I need to kill. Do you understand what I’m telling you right now?” Davin pushes his arm up further.

“Ffff—fucker, f—shit, stop—”

“Do you understand?” Followed by another notch, and the blinding tension in the joint seems to instantly triple.

Renee screams, back arching, free hand pushing at the floor. He spits it out, a hoarse cry scraping through his broken throat. “Yes! Fuck!”

It takes a second – emphasis – before Davin lets him go, all at once.

As soon as he is free, Renee kicks himself forward a few paces to get away, clutching his arm tight, panting. He rolls over on his back just in time to see Davin getting to his feet again.  

“Jesus Christ,” Renee gasps.

Davin fixes his folded-up sleeve. He peers down at Renee’s cowering figure, almost in passing, before his eyes drift to his watch. It’s the eerily unbothered demeanor, the way he is barely even out of breath.

“Who are you?”

Bracing a hand on his knee, Davin leans down to pick the knife back up. Clicks it shut and clips it back in his pocket. He finally meets Renee’s gaze directly, but the moment of pause where he might have answered passes, instead, with the silent glance alone. One in which the power dynamic – Renee on the ground with Davin towering above him – isn’t lost between the lines.

He snorts.

And then he leaves the room.

Previous / Masterlist / Next

[propertyofwhitney67]

Hear me out with this Fluff prompt

Neurosurgeon!Whitney doing Domestic Stuff with his housespouse.

Go wild, go give us cavities if you want to go hard on the fluffiness of it

Gardening

M!Whitney x Gn!Reader

Closed Prompt Event: Domestic Stuff

Words: 610

Tw: none, just pure fluff :)

Note: a nice fluff intermission from everything I have to write in the upcoming days

My knees were covered in dirt while I gardened, I was finally planting the flower bed I had planned. I heard Whitney calling out from inside the house, looking for me. “I’m out here!” I yelled back, knowing he would hear me. 

Whitney came outside, following the sound of my voice. “Finally starting that, huh?” He said once he was close enough to see what I was doing. “Looks good.”

I stopped, putting down my gardening tools and sitting back on my ass. “Thank you, do you want to help?”

He took his hands out of his pockets, showing them off to me. “Can’t damage the moneymakers.” I rolled my eyes and threw one of my gloves at him. He easily dodged it and laughed, “Watch it, slut.”

“Shut up and help your spouse.” I grumbled playfully, taking off my other glove and tossing it at him. “Here, to protect your moneymakers.” I leaned forward and went back to planting the flowers I bought. They’re going to look beautiful, I just hope they’ll bloom before the season is over.

Whitney smacked my ass before putting on gloves and joining me, “Yeah, yeah.” He was more than happy to spend time with me, he just wasn’t the best at showing it. Even after all these years, he still has a hard time expressing his feelings.

I let out a small yelp at the sting and whacked his arm, “You’re lucky I love you.” I mumbled, holding back a smile. He smirked and dug out a hole for one of the flowers. “Enjoying your vacation?” He took the week off from his job to spend some time at home with me and relax. 

He’s a neurosurgeon now, and I’m unbelievably proud of him. He’s come so far from being that bully from when we were younger to now. He can still be an asshole now and then, but who isn’t. I’ve changed too, no longer that tormented and desperate orphan. Now I’m safe and happy, living with the love of my life.

Whitney smirked, “It could be better, I could have you bent over right now.” In some ways, he hasn’t changed at all.

“I'm a housespouse, not a sex doll.” I halfheartedly threatened him with my hand trowel, shaking it at him.

Knowing I wasn’t going to hurt him with the trowel, he laughed. “No, but I can still bend you over like one.” I grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at him, hitting him square in the chest. “Oh, you’ve done it now.” I laughed, getting up and running as he grabbed his own fistful of dirt. He chased after me, “C'mere slut!”

I was a bit slow, my knees sore from all the work I’d been doing in the garden today. “Nope!” I yelled, looking back at him and seeing he was quickly gaining on me with a smirk on his face. He laughed maniacally, thoroughly enjoying chasing me around the yard. It was like we were kids again, running from each other on the playground. “No!” I screamed as he tackled me to the ground, pinning me under him. 

Whitney smirked and mashed the dirt on my face, “Got ya!” He yelled, laughing and rolling off of me. He wiped the dirt off his hands on my gardening apron.

“Damnit!” I yelled, laughing alongside him. I’ll be washing the dirt out of my hair for ages. We laid there on the ground, laughing so hard we had tears in our eyes and our stomachs hurt.

He pulled me onto his chest and kissed my dirt covered cheek, “I love you, slut.”

“I love you too, asshole.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

[krylng--cborlesversion]

love at first sight~chapter 7

|TW: angel dust smut, porn, and…valentino. swearing.

|summary: you are working for Vox when you meet two people. you get to know one of them, but what about the other? what are his intentions?

|notes: ik angel dust and val are from different times, but… for the story.

previous

Next (if I can get over my lack of motivation and fucking depression

——————————————-

“hey, i’m looking for the latest model. could you please show me where they are?” a man asked. you were still working this same old job. but vox being there was a good bonus.

“yes, right this way.” you made your way to a corner and lifted the box.

“woah there.” the man steadied you with his arms on your shoulder. “must be pretty heavy. here, let me help you lift it up.” he grabbed the corner on the other side of the box and helped you carry it. you both set it down.

“how much will that be?” he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“that’s…” you tilted the box to see the price tag. “that will be… 2000 dollars. if your still up for it.”

“yes, yes, of course.” he hands you a stack of money, and you shuffle it, counting the amount. exactly 2000.

“thank you, sir. have a nice day.”

“oh and by the way—my name is jack. and who may you be?”

“oh, im Y/N. i’m just a normal employee here.”

“beautiful name for such a beautiful lady.” he kissed your knuckles and picked up the box with ease. “have a nice day, amorcita.”

you stood there, a little surprised he called you ‘sweetheart’ in spanish.

you wiped off your hand, and watched as the store quickly got busy. most of your other co workers were helping customers. right now, you were on break. you decided to take a walk in the park.

you sat on an empty bench, and picked a flower from the ground. it was a beautiful pink colour, and it matched your uniform. you sniffed it and put it in your hair. you heard sobbing, you turned your head and saw someone sitting on a different bench. you got up to talk to him. his pink and white striped shirt would go well with the flower… you thought.

“u-uh hey. i noticed you were feeling down so…”

you watched as a tear fell down. it stayed on his freckles. he wiped a tear with his arm and looked at you. “so what? no matter what you say, i’ll never be okay.”

“i just wanted to give you this.” you pulled the flower from your hair and handed it to him. “i thought it would go good with your outfit.”

he held it and studied it before putting it in his white, short hair. “thanks, toots, but i told you…” he said in a much softer tone. “nothing could cheer me up right now. not even drugs or alcohol.”

you sat down next to him. “maybe not… but maybe you could tell me what’s bothering you? sometimes it helps when you talk to someone. it may not help but… maybe it’s worth a try?”

he wiped another tear. “maybe.” he sighed. he crossed his legs and flicked a piece of dirt off his tall heels.

“so… would you like to tell me why your down right now?”

he nodded. “just… just my boss, Valentino.” he cracked his fingers, which were in long, pink gloves.

you remembered at the wedding when Velvette said something about a Valentino, who worked at a porn studio.

you nodded.

“I…I work in a porn studio, and tonight he had me workin overtime, gettin fucked by all these punks and the same shit as always… i just wish i… could be free.” his pupils dilated, thinking about his job.

“you…you can’t quit?”

“nah. i’m under contract. lets just say i’m his little play toy and moneymaker right now, and in the afterlife.”

“i…i’m so sorry…”

“don’t be, baby. it’s my stupid mind for thinking Val would actually love me…so i signed my life away.”

you could tell he didn’t mean ‘baby’ in a romantic way. that made you a little more comfortable around him.

“i’m Y/N.” you held out your hand to shake his hand. he gave you a cute side smile and shook your hand.

“Anthony. but… don’t call me that… my new name, under contract, is Angel Dust.”

“but what do you want to be called?”

he looked up at you, a little surprised you actually cared about what he wants. he gave you the same cute smile. “Anthony is fine…but make sure my boss isn’t around…”

“got it.” you smiled and checked your watch. “oh shit… i was on break, and now i’m a little late.” you stood up, and walked towards VoxTek.

“wait, toots!” you heard him shout. he got up and ran after you.

“yeah?”

“do you have a telephone number?”

you nod, and you gave him the number. he wrote it down on a notepad.

“how do i know it’s you calling?”

“my telephone is glitched, so it just plays this random song.”

“alright. call me later tonight!” you waved and ran back inside.

you took a deep breath. still as busy as always. people trying to get an interview out of vox, the same commercial always playing on a TV. something that says, “Trust us!”

Vox was obviously super busy at the moment, so you couldn’t exactly go see him. you still had customers to help. you were helping customers pick out the perfect TV in their price range.

you didn’t know why Vox decided to make and sell TV’s and make technology more advanced.

you watched as the evening rush finally ended. but your thoughts still lingered on Anthony.

is he going to be okay?

“ahh, darling! i haven’t seen you in a while!” he picked you up and spinned you around.

“well, i’ve been seeing someone-“ he grabbed your neck and pinned you to the counter.

“don’t you fucking dare see anyone else but me. you’re mine, only i can love you like i do.”

you gasped for air, but he tightened the grip.

“say it. say you’re mine. say you’re mine forever.”

“i-im y-yours…” you trembled in fear. he chuckled lowly and bit your neck. he broke the skin, and you screamed a little bit. he licked the blood off.

“LET HER GO!” you heard a familiar voice shout.

his hands left your neck and you fell to the floor. he turned his head quickly.

“d-dont choke her like that…” you saw Anthony take a deep breath and try to be brave for you as Vox got closer.

“and is it really your place to tell me what i can and can’t do to my fiancé?”

“y-your engaged?” Vox nodded.

“Vox, please! he was only trying to make sure i’m safe.”

“you’re always safe with me, my dear.” his tone got harsher with each word. “is this the person you’ve been seeing? because i’ll kill him.”

“Vox! No! don’t you dare kill him. he’s a friend i met on my break!”

“why didn’t you tell me that’s what you meant?” he chuckled. “Vox. CEO of VoxTek.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes, stepping away from him and closer to you. he set his hand on your shoulder, and whispered so only you two could hear.

“listen…Val treats me like that too, so don’t you see where I’m coming from? i know we just met but… i care about friends.”

“thank you, anthony, really. but this is my fiancé, and i know him good. i don’t think he would do that on purpose. and who is this Val anyway? do i have to teach him a lesson?”

“no… i would be punished for it anyway.” he looked at the clock. he tightened the strings of his robe before rushing towards the exit. “sorry toots, i’m running a little bit late.” he rushed out.

you tried to run after him, but Vox held you back. “baby, i’m sorry…”

“let me go!” you screamed.

“babe, just hear me out. i’m very sorry, and you know i would never hurt you on purpose. you can go now, i just wanted you to know that.”

you gave him a quick peck on his lips before chasing after Anthony. you saw him run into a building with a bunch of neon lights.

“don’t EVER.” You saw a man slap Anthony across his face. “be late again!”

“y-yes Valentino.” he hung his head.

“you’re fucking lucky you make me money.” he pushed him and sat in a directors chair. “Action!”

Anthony took a deep breath as four big actors made their way to his bed on the set.

“oh no! robbers! what should i do! perhaps they… want a piece of this?” he untied the strings of his robe and let it fall.

“damn right! we needed a piece of the Angel Dust, so spread those legs, you slut.” one of them said.

he grinned and spread them. his face was shocked when he saw you standing there.

“Y/N?” he called out.

“uhh… my name is robert.” he pointed his finger up, confused.

“nobody gives a shit who you are.” he pushes him off, and tied his robe back on. “Y/N, what are you doing here? if Val sees us, we’re both dead!”

“i’m here to get you out!” you grab his arm and try to sneakily pull him away.

“toots, im under contract-“

“Angel, baby, who’s this? whos this little friend you brought with you?”

Valentino walked over to you, with a big red coat on hanging from his shoulders. it was very modern, which meant he was all about fashion.

“ooh, a woman.” he licked your cheek. “do you need a job?”

“uhh…” you stood there awkwardly. “no i… i already have one.” you nervously laughed.

“she’s just here to say hello. she’s leaving, right now.” you could hear he needed you to leave.

“no, we want to welcome our guest. welcome to my humble sex dungeon!” he took off his hat and tossed it to the side. a giant feather fell off from the hat. “you can see Angel after he’s done working.” he said in a harsh tone.

he stylishly walked back to the chair. “anddd… action!”

“oh my! a couple of big strong daddies are here!” he took off his robe. “maybe they want this?” he spread his legs.

“ohhh yeah baby~” he grinned as they entered his ass. you couldn’t watch. two of them had their dicks in his ass, and one was forcing his dick down his throat. the other was just masturbating, waiting for his turn. it disgusted you, even though Anthony loved sex.

that wasn’t the bad part, it was how Valentino treats Anthony.

“how long does this…go on for?” you asked Valentino.

“mmm, around…two hours. why do you wanna make me money and join in?”

you chuckled nervously. “nah, im good.”

you sat on a chair by Valentino, thinking about Vox again.

“whatcha think about, pretty lady?” he noticed you staring off into space, and he grinned mischievously.

“oh um…my fiancé. Vox.”

“THE Vox Borle? The CEO of VoxTek?” you nodded. “mm, tell him i said hi.” he gave you the same grin, and you stared at his sharp teeth.

after two hours of being traumatized, Anthony’s work was done.

you were laughing with Anthony, about to leave when Valentino called out.

“Angel, you better fucking be back by curfew!”

“Y-yes val…”

you walked out, and you closed the big door behind you.

“curfew? when do you have to be back?”

“four A.M. most days though. umm… are you up for ice cream?”

“i’m always up for ice cream!” you walked to the little ice cream shop, still laughing and joking, just having fun.

“what can i get you guys.” the worker asked, with a stoic expression.

“i’ll have…a vanilla.” Anthony licks his ice cream, and you order a strawberry ice cream. you paid and you walked out.

you sat on a bench, licking your strawberry ice cream.

“today…today was fun with you. thanks, Y/N.”

“your welcome, Anthony. and it was pretty cool to hang out with you too.”

you sat there for a few hours, until Anthony pulled something out of his pocket. he pulled out two bottles of liquor.

“where did you get these?” you unscrewed the top of yours.

“stole ‘em. it was in the shop.”

you couldn’t judge him since you murdered someone before.

“cheers to… living another day?”

“cheers.” you clinked the glass bottles and drank.

you both were pretty tipsy by now.

“i fucking hate Valentino. i cant believe he treats you like that.”

“i do too.” you both stared at the ground.

“what time is it?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“i think its around two.”

“oh, okay. i mean, i’d hate to abandon you here, but i have a busy day tomorrow, and i need sleep.”

“no, i understand. i’m getting tired too. thank you, anthony. it really was a pleasure meeting you again. oh, and make sure to call me soon.”

he gave you a thumbs up and made his way back to the studio.

you walked back to your shared home and unlocked the door.

you were pretty drunk now. you walked back to your room and collapsed on the bed. it woke Vox up, and he stared at you with sleepy eyes.

“baby, what are you doing here so late…?” you interrupted his sentence by passionately kissing him. he held the back of your head.

you laid your head on his chest.

“so… this Anthony.”

“he’s a really good friend. and, i’m pretty sure he’s gay, so don’t worry about us.” you had no idea if he was gay, but he was getting fucked by four guys.

“sleep well, my dear.” Vox said before you drifted off.

——————————————

it’s not very long, but it’s long for my style. let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the tags list.

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Rock Bottom: Moneymakers Fanfic/AU, Part 1

This is the first installment of a story based off of an AU idea for @coldresolve’s Moneymakers series. The masterlist for the series is his pinned post. Go check it out!!

~~

That oh-so-despised feeling of boredom was beginning to creep into Renee’s mind again. The kind that made his fingers twitch, his leg shaking restlessly even as he paced furiously around the kitchen, scrolling through his phone so quickly that any glimpse of information he might gather would be subliminal at best. His music was turned up to full blast, yet he could barely hear it. He needed a line, a pill, something.

He stalked back to his room and threw open the drawer he already knew would be empty, clawing at the compartment with shaking hands and slamming the drawer back shut as his fingers ran over smooth wood and nothing else. No coke, no money, not even a cigarette. 

He slammed a fist into the wall, hissing in pain as his knuckles split on the impact. If nothing else, the pain was better than that itching sensation crawling in his chest.

He scrolled to Lazarus’s contact without thinking, fingertip hovering over the call button. He’d already tried to fuck himself into a deal one too many times, at this point, he was surprised the man hadn’t blocked him. But since Davin (Kit? Jared? Seth? Caleb?)  had jumped ship with Conrad and the money, he didn’t have many options left. 

“Sorry man, you’re just not worth the risk. You draw too much attention. And you know you can’t do it without me, but I can do it without you. It’s just business.” 

He hadn’t even confronted him in person, just left a stupid fucking note on the kitchen counter and a trail of tattered dollar bills trampled by dusty tire tracks. 

He threw another punch at the wall, his anger ripping from his throat in a furious roar that tapered off into a wounded cry. 

“FUCK—” 

He fumbled for the gun at his waist, firing without even pausing to glance at a target. The lamp shattered off his nightstand with an ear-splitting crack, glass and ceramic exploding back at him in a stinging wave of shards. 

The silence that blanketed the room was enough to draw Renee back to his senses, at least for a moment. He needed his drugs. And for that, he needed money. 

He switched the gun’s safety on and kicked it across the room— he couldn’t trust himself with it, not now. Not when holding the muzzle to his head and pulling the trigger sounded like the only thing that could give him the rush he needed at the moment. 

Instead, he flipped open his laptop and began searching. 

He’d always known there were other people like him— torturers, murderers, people looking for a quick, bloodstained buck. And since he didn’t have Davin’s skills, he only had one thing left to offer. 

Willing to offer red room participation for 20% of profit— might be easier to have a victim who’s not trying to escape off camera. Male, 26.  Pictures on request. 

He left his phone number at the bottom of the post. 

His head spun with the recklessness of it all. If nothing else, the novelty of being beat up in someone else’s red room would be a rush of its own.  And if he hated every second, he’d get enough money out of it to replenish his stash. 

How bad could it be? 

~~

Waiting for a message sent restlessness crawling up his spine once more. Renee stalked in laps outside around the house, the bright and sunny day doing nothing to improve his mood, and the fresh air he breathed in just served to remind him he had nothing stronger to put in his lungs. 

When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he nearly jumped out of his skin. A text from an unknown number had appeared on the screen. 

He swiped frantically with one hand, the other itching to hold a joint. 

Your offer sounds tempting. I’d like those pictures you’d promised. 

His heart kicked with a fresh thrill. Let’s do this shit. He’d get his money back, get his drugs back, and be ready to find another victim of his own. Hell, maybe he could even steal Conrad back once he was on his feet. 

But he had to take this one step at a time. 

He decided on several of his standard best-angle-best-lighting selfies, and a screenshot of a snapchat he’d sent to Lazarus after a fight: a crooked nose dripping blood all the way down to his neck, lip split, bruises littering his cheekbones, and an unmistakable, shit eating grin. Written over it was “you should see the other guy”. He scoffed at the youthful stupidity of the photo but kept it with the rest— if he was trying to get a side job in a red room, they’d want to see how he looked while covered in blood. 

The other person responded nearly immediately. 

Hot ;) Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal. Meet me at 3252  Collinswood Lane. Albany, NY. Tomorrow, 11 pm. 

Renee was taken aback. Already sending a location, this quickly? 

How do I know you’re not just gonna kidnap me for real once I get out there? 

He waited for the response with bated breath. 

You're asking for 20%.... looks to me like you can't say no even if I won't make any promises.

He barked out a dry laugh. When was the last time he’d done something this spontaneous? This crazy? He’d missed it. With a resigned scoff, he began to type. 

Get me the drugs I need and you’ve got yourself a deal. 

With any luck, he wouldn’t have to spend all his money on his drugs. With any luck, it would all be over in a month or so. 

He opened another tab and booked a one-way train ticket to Albany. 

~~ 

The address led him to a run down, abandoned old factory. When he got out of the car, pockets loaded with knives, phone flashlight on full power, there was no one to be seen. A bush rustled behind him, a stick snapped, and Renee flinched, turning towards the sound. Nothing was there. 

He sighed. It was 11:15. Maybe the guy had driven off at 11 sharp, convinced Renee had chickened out. Maybe he was being led out here to be murdered. 

His hands shook. He needed a cigarette. 

He checked his phone again, resisting the urge to chuck it at the brick wall in front of him when there wasn’t a single notification. 

Instead, he shot a text to his unknown patron. 

I’m here. You coming?

He didn’t expect an answer, yet it arrived just the same. 

Light flooded the crumbling sidewalk that led to the factory, illuminating a dark-clad figure who leaned against one of the lampposts. 

“I was waiting for you to notice me,” an amused, silky voice stated. 

Renee could have punched them, then and there. Instead, he gave a weak shrug. 

“Guess I’m off my game,” he muttered hotly. “Any specifics on your end of the deal?” 

“Hold up, we don’t have to be all business just yet,” the man countered. “You got a name to go with that pretty face?” 

“Renee.” He said it without thinking. Davin had taught him better, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. It wasn’t like his life could get much worse. 

“What’s yours?” 

“You can call me Corbin.” 

Renee scoffed. “Ya make that up on the spot?” 

“Not exactly.” Corbin pulled out a lighter as he spoke and held the flame to the end of a joint. 

Renee’s body surged with sudden craving. “D’you have anything else on you?” He said, unable to contain the desperate edge in his voice. “Coke?”

Corbin shook his head. “Not on me. You’ll have to settle for weed.” He offered his lit joint like a peace offering, the signature stench of weed filling the air.

“I’ll take it.” He snatched it up as soon as Corbin held it out, bringing it to his lips like it was his last breath of life. And while the high was mild, it was something. It was enough to remind him that he could still feel alive, hell, that he could still feel anything at all.  

Corbin dug in his pocket for another joint for himself, lighting it with a practiced flick and taking a long hit. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

~~

Corbin’s car was a black gullwing BMW, sleek and stiflingly expensive. Renee ducked under the door and slid into the passenger seat without a word, one hand holding tight to his joint while he clutched his phone in the other. What had seemed like such a brilliant idea at the moment had turned into a reality, one that got much more frightening with every passing minute of tense silence.

“There’re gonna be limits, right? To a degree?” Renee said tentatively, hitting his joint while drumming his fingers on the pristine leather seat. “Like. Break a finger, sure, but don’t cut it off?” 

Why the fuck had he agreed to this? Why the fuck had he volunteered? Why the fuck had he bought a one-way ticked before asking basic questions?

Corbin shrugged, taking a long drag of his own joint. 

“To a degree, yes. But it’ll be real enough that you’ll be paying for your cut with blood by the ounce, trust me. But if I decide it’s not good enough, then it doesn’t count. And if that happens, you’ll find those limits to be… tested. Gotta give ‘em what they want, you know how it is. It’s just business… Renee, was it?” 

He was tempted to say no, just for the hell of it, but he nodded. It seemed the two of them were more alike than would be good for him. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. What the hell had he gotten himself into? 

He pulled out his phone to share his location with Lazarus, on the off chance this went wrong, and Corbin swerved so hard that the car nearly spun off the road. Renee lurched sideways, his head smacking against the window with a thud even as he tried to catch himself on an armrest. 

“Give me the fucking phone,” he snapped, the suave business partner facade melting off in an instant. 

He reached into his coat and shoved a gun in Renee’s face while keeping one hand on the wheel, the end of it so close that it practically dug into his jaw. “Don’t think I won’t do it.” 

Renee’s heart nearly stopped, his chest seizing in a sudden moment of clarity that cut through the easy relaxation that had come over him from the weed. He knew, if Corbin was anything like him, he truly wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. He tossed his phone in the man’s lap, resisting the urge to whip out a knife or throw a punch. He couldn’t stand a chance, not against a gun. 

“You weren’t ever gonna give me the money, were you?” Renee asked bitterly. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a sneaking suspicion, wasn’t like he hadn’t fucking known better. Davin had been right— too impulsive, too willing to do anything to get the rush he needed. He’d dug himself into this hole, and now it was too deep for him to crawl out of it. 

Corbin shook his head, chuckling. 

“Why would I? It’s not like I have to.” He turned to give him a devious wink, opened a window, and hurled Renee’s phone out, and Renee couldn’t help but wince at the distant sound of shattering glass. 

He was truly and utterly fucked.  

[gluttonemporium]

Instant Loss: Sayaka gets annoyed with Junko`s teasing, so decides to swallow the fashionista!

"-et up on stage and shake those moneymakers! C'mon, give it some thought - it's what I do for a living, and I'm doing fine! Way better than your little singing act, if you ask me..."

This kind of taunting had been going on for the last 45 minutes. Sayaka made the mistake of asking Junko for advice on how to appeal to a wider audience, since they were in similar work - but all she got was advice on how to make their shows more, um... "risque"-

"Course, you need an ass as fat as mine to be worth showing, dollface. Trust me, you've gotta pack on some pounds to look like-"

---

"-Thhs?"

Junko's wide-eyed, almost dumbfounded expression as outline perfectly in the belly flesh she now found herself jammed behind! Amidst the gurgling groans of the idols stomach, where her little habs and criticisms couldn't do any more damage... this might have been an overreaction, but:

"...So, a bigger butt? Got it. Could you help me with that please, Junko? Since you're the expert..."

[mcrredacted]

respectfully i think gerard should dance like this (https://rubbish78.tumblr.com/post/659540387020636160/gerard-way-shaking-that-moneymaker-at-la-cigale-in) (https://rubbish78.tumblr.com/post/638796716637929472/frank-and-gerard-showing-us-their-backs) again on stage. like ma'am hello. you're in your sexiest and most caked up era can you please start shaking some ass again. maybe even sluttier this time. maybe in a tight skirt and heels too but i'm not picky

.

[odk-2]

Elmore James - Look on Yonder Wall

Elmore James - Look on Yonder Wall (1961) James "Beale Street" Clark from: "Shake Your Moneymaker" / "Look on Yonder Wall" (Single) "Elmore James: The Sky is Crying, The Ultimate Collection" (CD2) (2019 3-CD Box Set)

Blues

JukeHostUK (left click = play) (320kbps)

Personnel: Elmore James: Vocals / Guitar Sammy Myers: Harmonica Johnny "Big Moose" Walker: Piano Sammy Lee Bully: Guitar / Bass King Mose: Drums

Arranged by Elmore James Produced by Bobby Robinson

Recorded: @ J&M Studios in New Orleans, Louisiana USA August, 1961

Single Released: December, 1961 Fire Records

Compilation CD Released: on September 27, 2019 Sunset Blvd. Records

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪

Look on Yonder Wall (Song): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Look_on_Yonder_Wall

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪

[rastronomicals]

12:33 PM EST December 13, 2023:

George Thorogood & The Destroyers -   "Shake Your Moneymaker" From the album Anthology (August 29, 2000)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

[ofchaotics]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 . . .

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ? citrus & sandalwood , for the most part . like he's very big on citrus scents ( he just like me fr ) but there's certain occasions where it's more of like a birch and black currant kinda vibe .

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ? calloused yet soft all at the same time . it's clear that he's actively trying to repair the damage he's done through the years from playing guitar . he always carries lotion on him at all times </3

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ? he's so peckish . . . . . mostly because he's constantly busy and it's hard to actually eat anything of sustenance when he's always on the go . big protein shake fan . smoothie fan . it's more often that he's just casually snacking than eating real meals . when he's home , though , it's a different story . his mom is always force feeding him home cooked meals . but like .. you will step into the tour bus and see seven thousand bags of caramel rice cakes and he'll always demand to make a stop to get mangos .

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 ? . . . . . yes . . . that's his moneymaker fr lmfaoo

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒 ? guh yes . if you count his nicotine addiction a bad habit . along with his infrequent drug use ( very dependent on the way his moods are ) . nervous ticks would be running his hands through his hair or cracking his knuckles . also the leg shaking at 245mph lmfaoo

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 / 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 ? always disheveled curls . like . he doesn't ever really know what to do with them if his stylist isn't around . he's usually dressed casually , like , baggy cargo pants and a wifebeater . his skin stays glowing , he's very meticulous with his skincare routine and does NAWT play about it . he's very into gold jewelry right now so it's always some dainty gold chain and rings , sometimes lil hoops if he's feeling spicy .

𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ? 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐎 ? yes . my god . he's gotta be in his partner's skin at all times . very touchy , even with friends . the kind of person that will grab you every time he laughs . the kind of person that will rest his head on your shoulder when he's tired , whether he's known you his whole life or five minutes . he's not shy about affection whatsoever . it's also like a pride thing , in a way that he wants everyone in his life to feel shown off and special and adored . like , he's always proud to be with the people he's with type beat .

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍 ? on his stomach with one hand tucked up under his pillow . he tries so hard not to but it always happens and it's inevitable </3

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 ? bruh absolutely . he's so loud . especially when he laughs . he has never once in his life ever been the quiet kind of person . everyone knows when he's there because he's the first distinct voice they can hear above anyone else's

nabbed this from @depictedblue !!! tagging all of u who read thru this hehe

[radiophd]

elmore james -- shake your moneymaker