in the kingdom of youth where nobody goes home till the sun is up and the
liquor has burned away another decade and a half from their lifespans, it’s
such a simple thing to lose oneself. the pharmaceutical industry has made it
a commodity, but the teenagers of today? they’ve made it an art. drinks in
glass tumblers and telltale smears of white beneath their noses; and for the
even more daring, pills on pink tongues and veins soaked in cocktails of
amphetamines. and in the dead centre of the languid maelstrom and impulse,
is tony stark. disillusioned heir; boy king; prince of playboys. lounged across
the crimson velvet of a chaise lounge like there should be a crown tilted ever
so carelessly above his head.
it isn’t his bar but he owns every foot and square inch of the place even though
he’ll ever see a trace of the profit. he trades in human capital, and everyone
who’s there is there because of him and they all know it. tonight though, the
only person he cares to grant his attention is two hours late. and he is not a
man who deals well with being stood up. perhaps given the girl in question, he
should’ve expected her arrival two hours late, hair white-gold and falling in a
curtain of pure light beneath the staccato bursts of colour from the dancefloor.
he smiles for her anyway, because despite appearances to the contrary he is
pleased to seeh er.
❝ e m m a frost. ❞
her name is a silken invitation he drawls like this is a game. & it is.
it always is with the white queen to his self-styled black king.
❝ what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this ? ❞
i think it’s time we
children, what’s that sound ?
everybody l o o k
what’s going down !!!
it all serves as a commemoration of days smoking; eye met
with soulless youth lying on stained floors with not a care; skin
burning inside and out; withering excellence and empty
syringes on the floor; she walks over them as if it’s a profession;
regal & exquisite; reminds her of hours spent in foreign beds,
never her own, hours spent screaming in ecstasy & pain
both; they can’t resist her , no one can; they can
call her back into their lives; or she’ll be gone &
leave them empty down to the marrow; shaking out the pockets
of their soul; she’s made herself, worked out each flaw, each
mistake ; filled the holes with perfection until nothing remained;
she’s her own artist, her own writer; she walked all the way; her
blonde hair immaculate ; a burden of distinction crowned
upon her head;
she’s late; quite, she might say so herself; but reputation
won’t lap at her feet by coming early; she enters
the room the way she always does & she’s greeted the way
she always is, too ; ——— with the turning of heads;
the eyes running over what is hers; by the flare of lights that
dance along ; by the whisper of the free drinks she’ll
receive over the course of the next hour; she curls a
finger through a lock of platinum hair; leaves it to be &
continues her walk; she looks like art; like Aphrodite
personalized; she’s somethin’ else today; she
won’t ever admit it – but a good hour of the two
she’s been late has been spent advancing all she has;
for a moment she foolishly imagines him to have left before
laughing it away; her smile is an apple slice;
& there he is; a man matched for her, just as appealing
as she is; they’re sin in the flesh; all seven written
into their dna; he’s a man meant to stand by her side,
shoulder to shoulder; & P E R F E C T;
she walks towards him with heels clacking; her white dress
hitching up her thighs & hinting at what awaits; she
can feel his eyes on her; & she reaches him; opens her red
lips to release speech; & she’s better than any
dream he’ll ever have;
& she knows it.
❝ looking for a drink. maybe some good company. ❞
someone come TALK to me i feel lonely
❝ you’re accusing me of being sarcastic? ❞
there’s the quicksilver flicker of laughter curving mischief through his
otherwise imperceptible expression. she needn’t observe the micro-
scopic twitch of his lips when she can card through his thoughts like
silk; he likes to think, of course, that they know each other well enough
for her to afford him the respect not to.
❝ it’s a compliment. you’re still as beautiful as i remember. ❞
❝ would it be crass of me to say ‘ congratulations? ’ people like us,
we aren’t made that sort of thing. we’re better suited to hedonism
and frivolity. ❞
it would be a lie of him to pretend anything else. but beneath the tactless
condolences is the barest trace of sympathy. summers was a good man,
they were good together. but he, for one, isn’t mourning emma frost’s
newfound freedom. like she’d alluded to, old habits die hard.
and where has she heard that from? surely not the society pages that
spin such pretty lies. he may fight crime and save the world inside a
metal suit but out of that, he’s still the beloved star of every tabloid’s
sin and scandal under the sun.
never too busy for you. ❞
██ ▓ └ ♔ ┐ ∎▀
❝ you certaily remember how to
make a girl feel special, tony. ❞
❝ & no… it would not be crass of you. you are after
all ; CORRECT. relationships just don’t suit us. ❞
;; admittance of the fact that she does miss scott will
never happen; no matter how much truth may be
ringed into her thoughts; coiled over & over in
blessed memories; she doesn’t read tony’s mind
anymore; doesn’t bother
she’s been in his mind;
phuket, paris, italy & many more; she knows him & maybe
he knows her to; but rarely she’ll give him the courtesy
of not peeking in for spoilers of his speech ;;
;; she gives him the brightest smile she can muster; one
whispering of memories & dinners; of blue bed sheets
& table clothes; of red roses in a glass of white wine;
he has been the attention keeper of every tabloid &
gossip girl; but that’s not what she’s aiming to ;;
❝ & that is why i like you.
so, when are you free, s t a r k ? ❞
His attraction to human women runs
few and far between; one of the perks
of hitting puberty surrounded by pink-
skin (actual pink — not the fleshy—
whatever) and tentacles, he supposes.
But if more Terrans looked like this,
Peter’s pretty sure he might be willing
to make an exception.
He jabs his thumb over his shoulder,
gesturing vaguely in the area behind
him. ❝ — The door was unlocked.
Hope that’s cool.❞
██ ▓ └ ♔ ┐ ∎▀
;; shaw walked her out the doors on tuesdays; things she
counted as luck; small pocketed charms from the men
throwing money at her; they’re all living under one
small roof in different rooms; some large & luxurious;
dirty & disgusting; blood prints on the walls & shoes
belonging to deceased lying on the floor, forgotten; it’s
been long since she’s gotten to meet a man who isn’t
paying her to be here; it’s quite a lovely difference;
her eyes brighten; that perfect smile, only slightly
genuine, on the curve of her painted lips ;;
❝ oh no, it’s perfectly
alright. please, have a seat. ❞
cease. so. i’m sure people are wondering where i’ve gone to, and if they’re not, this is just a little thing. my depressions getting bad, guys, & i’m just in a really bad situation here. my studies have become a mountain, i’m really in an awful place in my life, & this blog is starting to worry me. i can’t have my anxiety attacks on top of all this, & i’ve decided to go on a semi-hiatus. now, that does not mean no replies- i will do replies, i’m just going to do 2-3 in a day. it’s just frankly hard to deal with at home, and at college
& i don’t want to get antidepressants again, so i hope you all understand why i’m not going to be online as much. i apologize once again & i love you all, & i just wan to get better & come back here full-time as soon as possible.
;; The mention of his old friend’s name silenced
him for a moment before the corner of his mouth
raised into a small smirk; noticeably forced. The
memory of losing his only friend, someone whom
he trusted and who trusted him; it was distressing.
Though he tried his hardest to hide it. What’s done
is done. He gestured for others to come closer as
he responded. ;;
Left a gap in my life if I’m
to be honest. I was hoping
you would fill it.
——So, will you?❞
██ ▓ └ ♔ ┐ ∎▀
└ ; the blatant cut of emotion & the smile that
crowns his face is quite visible; understandable,
even; she’d seen memories buried inside
charles’ mind; she’s still dolled up; something
she takes pride in —— after all, it’s
something to claim when you’re in a CIA
facility; she wonders; it is quite a DECENT proposal ; ┐
———— Erik, I believe. ❜
perplexity lurks, and students whisper, questioning why
the two were sat next to each other now. even donnie didn’t
know, or care for that matter. his ballpoint pen still painting
his page and ears accepting her words.
❝ and, what do you want a medal? ❞
fluent in sarcasm, and one hundred percent jerk.
at times though. the pale skinned, dark haired,
schizophrenic, teenage boy, was never the one to
be polite about things, particularly at school. nobody
respected him, why should he do the same?
k a r ma ;;
██ ▓ └ ♔ ┐ ∎▀
└ ; She looks at him, amusement crawling up her leg like satan’s snake;
blonde hair ripples down her back curling defiantly; tries to take a
try at being funny instead of insulting; you catch more flies with
honey than vinegar
but she’s never been one for sayings;
& it’s uncharged; unknown territory trying to be nice ; ┐
❛well, a certificate would work too. ❜
└ ; the hearth is still warm, embers of memories still glowing;
shreds of paper & regret strewn over the dirty floor; wall
paper peeling like a cheap ten-dollar-a-night motel; next
it’s turning into beds conjoined into walls and cloth
dolls hanging with threads on their neck ; ┐
❛ c’mon.you’re donnie right? i’m emma.❜
"From the day you walk away, I will not wait for you. I will count every star I can see. I will count every leaf, every flower, every single pair of shoes my neighbor owned. I will count every year of my life from the moment you leave and I will not stop until I cannot continue. I will count every being on this earth, the ones born years before me, and the ones to be born centuries after me. I will count every speck of dust my bones will make, and once I am done- only then will I wait for you."