Today I learned from someone on Twitter that there’s a manga called 自殺志願 where a character is heavily modeled after Dave, I hope I can find a translated version! (Also am I trippin or does the last one look like James idk)
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Starting a new fun posting series - Rocking Snacks! Every now and then I want to recreate a snack eaten by a rockstar, try it, and rate it.
Please feel free to send in an ask with a snack and rockstar you want me to cover. You are more likely to see a post on it if there is some kind of context (video, magazine, interview, etc) included in your ask.
For our first snack we have Vinnie Vincent and his strawberries with whipped cream:
Vinnie is definitely one of my favorite rockers out there, so I may be a bit biased when I say that I really liked this option. It’s incredibly simple, summery, and very Vinnie. Believe it or not, I had not, up to this point, eaten fresh strawberries with whipped cream before. This was really nice to end my evening with.
I would rate it a solid 10/10. It would be eaten on my patio if I had a table and chairs out there!
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Mephistopheles of Los Angeles - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut] (Part II)
Synopsis: After the kiss, it’s impossible to avoid the press. But behind closed doors, there’s no reason to deny that you two have a connection. AKA Marilyn invites you and Johnny over to his place for a night of fun.
Notes: Third and final part coming soon! Also, I love comments :)
PART I
PART III
You sit up by your window, watching the pool glisten. You can't come out and say anything-- he was probably drunk. But, you two did have that magnificent conversation before the drinks came around... there was definitely a connection there.
As if you two shared a mind, just as you're about to pick up the phone to call Johnny, his ID shows up on your screen.
"Hey," you say.
"Morning, sunshine," he says, his voice cracking from an obvious hangover, "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
You groan, sliding the curtains shut and blocking out the sun. He laughs.
"Hey, what if--" Just then, someone else starts to call through. It's an unknown number. You really shouldn't answer, you being who you are... but there's a glimmer of misplaced hope inside you, leftover from last night maybe.
"I'll call you back, kay?" you mumble, and swipe on the call. "Yeah?"
"Hey." It's him, deep, gravelly voice and all.
"Hey." You pull your feet up to your chest. "What's going on?"
"I was hoping-- I got your number from Depp by the way, so I'm not a stalker-- that you guys'd come over to my place, like, tomorrow night. Night before your premiere. We could celebrate properly."
"Sounds great," you smile. "How are you not hungover?"
"I am, I'm just a good faker." He pauses. "It felt good to unwind with you last night. I... appreciate company like yours. I also appreciate that that was the sexiest kiss I've had in like, ten years." That's all he says, then he hangs up. Sober, he's a very somber person... but his drunk side shines through every now and then it seems. Smirking, you stand, and start to think about a shower. Johnny will probably be getting a call next.
-
The next night, the three of you are situated in Marilyn's living room, the thermostat set to cool air and a low soundtrack of David Bowie floating in the background.
"Cherry. Blood red. So we can pretend we're vampires." A pyramid of jello boxes sit on his counter top, three bottles of Absinthe that would be used instead of water.
"We basically are," Johnny comments idly, watching a fly crawl along the counter.
"Or, or we can pretend we're eating flesh," Marilyn continues, shaking one packet out into the bowl, "Absinthe and flesh. Or we can pretend (y/n) is menstruating, and--"
Both you and Johnny groan loud enough to drown out the rock star's ravings, and finally he concedes, adding the absinthe (mostly) silently. Ultimately however, Johnny is unable to restrain himself from pitching in. "Who would want to eat a woman out on her period though?"
"You'd be surprised," you answer that one, swinging your legs over Marilyn's velvet couch.
"I wouldn't mind it," Marilyn offered, licking the cherry goop off his tattooed fingers, "If I was like, an actual vampire."
This sets Johnny off again, and as he's laughing, you saunter up to Marilyn, wrapping your arms around him from behind.
"And what if you weren't a vampire?"
"You mean if I didn't need to stick my tongue in a reservoir of ovum littered blood?"
"Yes."
"Well, I know girls get aroused on their period, because their hormones are raging. So if my girl was horny as fuck for me on her period and wanted me to eat her pussy, I mean, I wouldn't say no."
You pat his cheek. "A true gentleman."
"I've always wondered this-- when you fuck a girl on her period and she cums, is it like a dam of blood breaking?"
"What, like the parting of the red sea?" Johnny frowns. Marilyn considers this.
"More like... Titanic, but... the Titanic is your dick."
"Completely false," you say, and both guys look over to you, legitimately interested. "It's the opposite. At least for me. The blood stops for a bit, then... comes back with a vengeance once all your wetness has returned from whence it came."
"Very interesting, love," Johnny says, getting up and pouring himself another drink.
"I love being educated in the vaginal arts," Marilyn says, making obscene slurping noises as he licks the rest of his fingers clean.
As the night wears on the three of you (plus Lily) put down bottle after bottle, smoke a couple of joints, and finish the red coagulated creation. Once two AM hits, the conversation deepens, and the guitar breaks out.
"It's gonna be hell for you answering questions about those pictures this weekend, (y/n)," Johnny says, strumming the acoustic instrument.
"I know. The questions I get are so dumb, I've already had a billion asking about you and me and if we're dating. Just because two people play love interests--"
"And have fabulous onscreen chemistry," Johnny adds.
"Yes, doesn't mean we should get... shipped!" Angrily, you exhale a cloud of smoke, the joint hanging lazily between your fingers.
"It's because the media's bullshit consists of asking why male artists do what they do, and asking female artists why they fuck who they fuck," Marilyn mutters candidly, stealing the joint.
"Load of crap," Johnny nods, playing a riff of The Beautiful People.
"I like you... though," Marilyn mumbles, glancing your way.
"I like you too," you blink.
"I would've fucked you y'know... if the paparazzi weren't such cockblocking motherfuckers..."
"I know. When it comes to the press though, we've gotta make it look like an accident if they did get pictures."
"Which they did," Johnny nodded, "I already saw one this morning titled "Chateau Marmont's Wild Nightlife: Johnny Depp blazes one while rising co-star and shock-rocker best friend get 'cheeky' in the bushes." Now we've got not only rumours about you and me to deal with but you and this fuck." This makes Marilyn laugh.
"I'm just known as the best friend now? Wow." He touches his wow tattoo, holding it up.
"You're faded, man."
"Faded, faithful, and fuckin' fatal."
"They make me look like a fucking stoner now, so I'm not much better."
"You are a fucking stoner."
"I'm Jack Sparrow, mate."
"You're a fucking stoner."
You just roll your eyes as they bicker. You remember what your agent told you-- if it's not purposefully publicized, it's messy, and messy doesn't sell. Guess that's what it's like in the Hollywood dating pool.
"Nah, but of course we've gotta deny all of it," Marilyn sighs. "It would blow up your career in a not-good way cause they'd say this young, impressionable starlet is dating a satanist, or whatever they call me, and I don't really feel like answering a billion stupid questions about you either at this point, not when I'm trying to promote my record. They're going crazy over this cause you're so popular right now, (y/n). It'll be all over People and the internet and shit."
"Covering personal shit is the worst part of this job," Johnny mutters. "Unless it's a story about smuggling cocaine into the Pirates premiere."
"Wasn't that at Disneyland?" you frown.
Marilyn and Johnny both nod noncommittally.
"Worth it," Johnny says, holding his guitar with one hand and flicking a piece of the blood red Jell-O onto the ceiling with a spoon.
"Clean that up," Marilyn grins.
"Lick it off, mate," Johnny laughs. It suddenly falls, and with a jiggle, lands between your breasts. You yelp as it splatters into your cleavage, and the two men fall to the floor laughing.
"Mmmmhmmhmm," Marilyn smiles, crawling over to you on his hands and knees with tipsy half-lidded eyes, "I think I will lick it off." He straddles you on the armchair, one leg on either side, and puts his face into your tits, his tongue sweeping deep licks between, up, down, ugh...
"Fuck, you're making me horny," you whisper. Johnny giggles, standing and snatching a small bag and heading up to Marilyn's pool patio with his guitar.
"See you two in the morning."
"Don't drown," you call up.
"I don't want to have to clean up your chlorine bloated corpse in the morning," Marilyn adds.
"I will leave you the sexiest corpse you could possibly imagine, brother," Johnny calls back down, stumbling up the stairs. You and Marilyn turn your attention back to one another.
"Your tits taste good," he comments, eyes flickering lazily back down to them.
"My pussy tastes even better," you grin, taking his hand and sliding it down between your legs. He rubs it against you, and comes up with slick fingers.
"Bedroom."
His bed is covered in black silk sheets, a satin cover blanketed overtop of them. Messy piles of books and records litter the floor, and creepy artefacts you wouldn't want to see with a light on surround everything on bookshelves.
"You have blacklights?" you ask, looking around the dark, mysterious room.
"To admire the cum shots on the ceiling," he clarifies.
"Oh, is that all?"
"--But I don't like to call it cum, I like to call it... making wet in you," he giggles.
"Mmm, make wet in me?"
"I would love to make wet in you."
Before you can say anything else, he grabs you by the hips, shoving you forward onto the bed. You land on your stomach, and he stands behind you as you turn your head.
"Take your panties off," he says in a low, level voice, as if he had sobered up in seconds. You feel your bratty side coming out.
"What if I don't?"
He lifts his chin up, looking like a king. "Get on your hands and knees... arch your back and present your ass for me. It's a really pretty ass, I just wanna look at it. Promise."
You do so, and wait in the darkness. After a second, you feel his tongue dart out, licking a stripe up your panties from behind. Then he smacks your ass hard. "Ohgod," you whisper, and he smiles.
"You look so good like this." You flip over, and crawl up to the headboard, hanging on. "Why don't you spread your legs for daddy?"
"Why don't you spread them for me, daddy? I'm a little bit tired."
"Lazy little bitch," he mumbles, sliding his hand between your legs. It rests on your knee, then you feel the pressure of him parting your thighs. He rolls over on top of you, and for a moment, you think he's going to instigate a kiss. You part your lips, waiting for him. Instead, he slides down like a snake between those parted thighs and hooks his fingers into your panties.
"Just lick around them," you smirk, biting your lip.
"Uh, uh. I want to enjoy my meal," he drawls, and pulls them off down to your ankle.
"Eat my pussy good, baby."
"Oh, I plan to."
"Gonna fuck me after that?"
"You know I am, kitten."
He delves between your folds again, making low noises. His hands reach up to grope and grab at whatever they can; your hips, your breasts, your inner thighs. After a moment, you gasp as he slips two fingers into you, then three, fucking you rough with them.
"That's--" You gasp, grinding into his face, "That's so good..."
He hums, the vibration of his lips against your clit driving you wild.
"How fuckin' close are you?" he hisses.
"So fucking close," you whine.
"Cum for me. Make wet... in my face."
"God, you're gonna ruin my ladyboner by saying shit like that!"
A few more masterful circles of his tongue however, and you do cum, gripping the boards for dear life.
"Grab my--" he murmurs, "Grab my hair, love it when it's-- oh, tugged--"
Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug the short black locks as he fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Giving you a moment to breathe, he flashes his dark glare up between your legs, eyes shining almost demonically in the dark.
"Fuck me, Brian," you breathe. He crawls up on top of you, holding you by your shoulders as he guides his dick between your legs. When he finally pushes in, he gives a grunt as you moan, wrapping your legs around his ass.
"So fucking good," he groans, and you bite into his shoulder.
"Ohhh yeah, oh yeah," you moan, and he suddenly pulls out.
"Back on your hands and knees, kitten." You obey this time, fucked out but wanting more. He smacks your ass again, and you moan, wiggling back. He spanks you again, and again, and you bite your fist. "Nah, nah," he whispers, "I wanna hear you. Get fuckin' loud, scream it out."
You very nearly scream as he spanks you again, and presses soft kisses up your back, turning into hickies by the top between your shoulder blades.
"Wanna ride you," you breathe. Wordlessly, he lays down, and you roll over top of him, getting into reverse cowgirl position. With another gasp, you sink down over his big cock, and roll your hips.
"That's good," he groans, "Fuckkkk yeah, that's good."
"Daddy, daddy--" you gasp.
"Daddy's gonna make you cum," he whispers, reaching up and around to squeeze your breast. He sits up, so that his chest is pressed to your back, and the angle makes you moan even louder. "I gotchu," he whispers in your ear, "I gotchu, I gotchu, gonna take real good care of you... cause you're takin real good care of me..."
You nearly sob as you reach back and grab his hair, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you had done with him. You feel a bit of blood drip, and cum hard. Marilyn increases his pace as he feels you gush around his cock, pounding you harder than ever. Skin slaps against skin as he fucks you on his lap, and your orgasm keeps burning through you as he mumbles growled-out words of praise.
When you finally come back down to earth, he's pressing kisses to the bite mark, which felt good in the moment, but stings like hell now.
"Guess you're a real fucking vampire, Manson," you giggle. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, laughing.
