photobombs his selfie--
“Woah, woah, woah. There’s only room for one blond in these pictures… and it’s not you.”
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KIROKAZE
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@theartofmadeline
Not today Justin
Sade Olutola

★
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Mike Driver
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor

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izzy's playlists!

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@crowncriminal
photobombs his selfie--
“Woah, woah, woah. There’s only room for one blond in these pictures… and it’s not you.”
+ considering changing my theme as it’s outlived the style hype from back when I made it. It’s hard to part with it considering how much work i put into it, but I want this blog to have a different feel than what the theme is giving it!
“Perhaps I should rid you of the feces upon your boot and withiń̬̳̩̪͎̋̃̈ ̘̝̻̰͙̋̉̓̌ͥͧ́y̜̩̯̪ͬͦ͠ǒ̲̙͚͕̹ͥ̍͛́u̦͓̱͖̟͊ͤ̈̚ͅr̵̬͓̣̫̺ͧͩ ̸͊̂̅ͣ͂̀ͅs͔͇̭̽̀̍ͤ̏ͯ̀O̰̟̻ͧ̉̉ͭ̑̉͛ͅṶ͍͇̱̜̻̱L̶̻̖̓.̮̈̎̇͌” /pulls out knife here too why not omg
"--Y'know, ya' could just do us all a favor and bathe. Could jus' throw ya' in the waters of Accordo." His smirk is smug as he shrugs, gun rested gently on his shoulder.
“Do you wish to̼̿͂͋ͮ̿̉̐̊͜ ̭͓͎͈͔ͣ̋̄̄̏̀̐́̚͞ŝ͍̯̝̭̼̗̍́͜ͅa̶̮͖͑ͮͧͤͧ̒̃̐͐́y̴̪̹͙ͭ̑̐̇͑̓͌͝ ̴̨͓̬̺̫̩̯̰͛̐͆̌͛̊ͣ̾ṱ̡̡͊͛̑ͫ̆̍h͍̥̬̝̹̩̬̜̄ͮ͑ͪ̓̌ͩ̏ͫa͙̩̪̬̝̤͈͈͋ͬ̾t̻̜͕̓̊̓ͪͦ̐̓ ͥ̿̅͑͏͍̰̜͍̩̻̼̹͟ă͒́͌͐̒́ͪ͏̱̹̥͉̞̪̤͠ǧ̛̖̈́̊͡͠a̜̗͍̝͉̫̎͊̾͘i̷͖̱̘̖̦͉̰ͯ̓͊̀ͪͣ̂̑n̨̘̺̙̣̓͂̀?̡̝͎̻̫̣̤͔ͭ̌”
"You smell worse than th'underside 'a my boot-- an' I stepped in Behemoth shit."
"--Stella smells."
ᴩʀᴏᴍᴩᴛᴏ ᴀʀɢᴇɴᴛᴜᴍ
♛ Aꜰꜰʟɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ ♛ 10 yᴇᴀʀs ᴇxᴩᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ♛ Sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ♛ Kɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs/ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀsy ♛ ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ sʜɪᴩ: ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ♛ Pʀᴇꜰᴇʀ ᴩʟᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ♛ Fʟᴇxɪʙʟᴇ ♛ — ♛— ♛ — ♛ — ♛
ໃ normal AU
There had always been this kind of invisible line segregating the rich kids from the middle class, yet the barrier had been void for the young blond. Growing up he spent more time with those who would normally shun him-- earning him what most would expect from the middle class, instead. He spent much of his childhood with a certain major CEO's son, and over the years at had become increasingly impossible to shake them from each other. Instead, they learned to assimilate; turning from more than just a friendship into something more like a family. Prompto was never a fan of society's rules, anyway.
ໃ Zombies
{ scREAMS THINGS I WILL NEVER! RP! BECAUSE ZOMBIES TERRIFY ME OH MY GOD BUT I'LL GIVE YOU A HC THING FOR IT SOB }
As a marksman, Prompto would have one of the most impressive collections of guns to travel with, his unrivaled accuracy leaving him with the best surplus of ammunition around. No sane being would be willing to challenge him for supplies, rather hoping to form an alliance in order to stay alive.
There were plenty of rumors, but until she saw them proven, then…
”I… I guess I don’t have reason to mistrust you… I’m sorry.”
Sheesh, the hell did this girl have to hear to be so wary of him?
"S'what I thought! You'll learn ta' love me, promise!"
crescenthana said: not 2 u llllll:
"Aw, what'd I do? Lemme make it better."
go away l:
"Aw, an’ here I thought ya’ were the nice one!"
”Tch—- I didn’t fuck anything up. Explosions are just something you should appreciate, ya?”
The Turk smirked, having used one of the special creations of his dearest partner in crime, Rude.
"Y'were like a fuckin' meter off! Don't feed me that shit--"
The blonde grunted, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from the other male. Really just had to do everything on your own if you wanted it done right; if he wasn't so damn lazy he'd have learned his damn lesson by now.
"Coulda' been a bigger explosion... 'tch."
"Man, y'just can't get a job done right unless ya' do it 'yerself!" Tapping the metal barrel against his shoulder, the male cocked his head, brow quirked.
"Y'really fucked up, y'know."
"I am being punished…"
"Cute kid like you? How could anyone wanna punish that?"
Prompto Argentum
QUICKSILVER
One Hell of a Place | Tifa
Waking up in a wreckage of what looked like it had once been a town wasn't something the marksman had planned on his agenda; regardless, it happened. The smell of desertion and decay surrounded the blond, making him question whether all that was left of the place was really just rubble...
The faster he was out of here, the better.
Brows furrowed as he stood, scanning whichever direction would be best to head in before deciding randomly-- as long as he kept heading in one direction, he had to make it out. Or well, so he thought, until he ran into a bit of a setback.
Fiends.
Not unlike the ones back home, though more grotesque in nature. A disturbing air surrounding them as they stalked toward him, not expecting a fight. Hell, had they been wrong. The first one daring to jump at him was met with a bullet to the face. Shock wrung out on its features as it slumped to the ground-- the other fiends on edge.
He walked away with a few cuts and bruises; muscles ached, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The beasts had underestimated him, and anything that was lurking to get a piece of him had retreated once realizing how much of a threat he was. He continued, then, dragging himself through the empty streets in hopes for a more fitting location. He happened upon a city, though not the classiest looking place, it had people. He stopped at the first habitable looking shop, eyes gazing upward to find out what exactly he had stumbled upon.
A bar? Well... a good drink to drown out the pain wasn't something the sharpshooter was ready to pass up.
Muscles seared as he gripped the door handle, wincing through the pain as the door finally swung open, allowing him to stumble into the shop-- Empty. At least, that's how it looked; chairs still up on their tables, bar itself left unattended... yet the door had been left open, bell jingling lightly upon his arrival.
"Anyone here?" He called out, considering waiting a moment before staggering off to some other shop or inn he might be able to find in this run-down town.