#levyosn

critique my portrayal / roast me !

just call him goth bomb and see what happens! half the time i just want to smack him, he’s so horrible.

@levyosn :  ’ We need something that can defend itself. Something that won’t die. ’

spill the tea. acc. @levyosn

MELODRAMATIC SENTENCE STARTERS.

“ okay, and what exactly am i listening to? ‘cause i don’t hear any music, nor do i hear any nice ambient noises i should attune my eardrums to, so... “

a contemplative pause, as he rocked his head to the side, demonstratively folding his arms in front of his chest. oh, so pouty. why did some people have to be so... well, this? how frequent was it that some of his younger friends would have that whiny voice and equally irritating face that reeked of puppy-dog tears ready to flow at any moment. there was no denying just how familiar it all was. he never acted like this. jessica had. adri did, at times, in the past.

maybe this was a trend.

he offered her a slight smile, managing a chuckle - forcing it just so from the depths of his throat; heavy and articulated. this was a practiced one, most definitely not genuine.

              It was always colder next to the ocean. Ice cold waves crashed around Ashley’s ankles, his pants rolled up to his knees, blanket around his shoulders. Eyes were fixated on the vast water before him, pockets stuffed with shells. He remembers nights spent on ships, battles in the soaked sand. He thinks, momentarily, to when his boots sunk so far into the sand that he stumbled upon trudging through the water from where the boat dropped him. He remembers the way the water washed his gun away.

              Eyes close, lowering himself to his knees, freezing water soaking his pants, splashing against his shirt, sending goosebumps down his body. Hands dip into the salty sea, and he wonders if such water could wash away his sins like it washed away his weapon. A hand lays heavy on his shoulder and Ashley opens his eyes, knowing already who was there.  

SHE WASN’T SURE IF SHE SHOULD COUNT THIS STRANGER FOOLISH FOR DARING TO MAKE THEIR WAY THROUGH THIS ICED OVER FOREST SHE HAS COME TO CLAIM HERS; TO MAKE HER HOME AWAY FROM THE CITY. THERE’S A LACK OF CONTROL, BARELY IN HER GRASP AND THE ONLY THING SHE CAN DO TO NOT HURT ANYONE IS TO STAY AWAY. So the sounds of her ice fractiles cracking below foreign feet leaves her on edge, hands consumed by ice particles clench as vermillion stark contrast the white surround her stare at the new face.

          ❝ —you should LEAVE... now. ❞