#n i lov him as much as the moon loves the earth

[rengiyuus]

My eyes r all teary and I’m blushing like crazy even tho it’s 2 am!!!!! chan rlly ksksfk makes me sooo soft

[myelocin]

(for the meantime, this is love) | oikawa tooru

synopsis: for the meantime, the person who you know isn’t love is okay. tonight, oikawa tooru pretends that you’re love, while you kiss him and tell yourself that this is enough. a love that’s only a maybe at best is enough.

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

wc: 1500+

a/n: i lov angst

you’re not okay.

you don’t tell yourself that, but you know in the moment that it’s the truth that you hold around yourself. and like a person drowning in the middle of sea, you search for a life vest. 

hands frantic above the water, legs kicking beneath the waves, and your face turned to the sky as you fight against the current and beg the gods for salvation. 

oikawa tooru, beside you, isn’t okay.

he knows he hasn’t been okay, not for a long time, but he wades in the water towards you anyways, acting as if he knows how to swim. he doesn’t; never has, but he ignores the fact that when his hands touch yours and your eyes lock with his, he’s already drowning. 

and because you think that this is grace; that oikawa tooru is your salvation, you hold on to his hands without any regards to a second thought and breathe. 

“we’re going to ruin each other,” he whispers; lips bitten red and bleeding raw pressed against yours. 

in the haze of the moment and uncertainty, you tell yourself that blood means life, and with that rationality is pushed to the back of your head. 

his kiss felt rushed, but you ignore it. you pull at the collar of oikawa’s shirt, tricking yourself into thinking that it’s the life vest that you’ve been searching for. 

oikawa stands in front of you, breathless. the urge to cry prods at him, but he ignores it. when he opens his eyes, he sees you.

and you, and you and you, and just fucking you.

 he knows he isn’t okay, because he can’t swim, but because he sees you, he kicks his legs and pretends that he can. water fills his lungs when he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t care. he kisses you again, this time with his hands around your face, fingers digging into the skin on your cheek.

 you break free, looking at him and trying to find the will to ask him why, but your mouth runs dry.

 you want to ask him what this kiss is for, and if this is it, but deep down you know it isn’t. you see in oikawa’s eyes that he isn’t okay, and that he probably sees someone else in your place too. 

 ‘we’re going to ruin each other,’ he said, and you think that there couldn’t be a statement more true than so. 

“who do you see?” you ask instead, then pull away from his lips. you taste blood; on the tips of your tongue, and feel it smeared against the corner of your lips. it isn’t the taste of your own, so you stare at oikawa who trembles in front of you. 

he says a name that doesn’t sound like yours, and you swallow. 

something in your chest feels dulled, but you know that it isn’t because of pain. you think it could be love, but when you stare into oikawa’s eyes and at the reflection of yourself staring right back, you know that this could never be love either.  

 five thirty-six pm on a thursday afternoon in december, you’re holding onto a lifevest that doesn’t fit you while you’re in the middle of fucking no where and you can’t swim.

five thirty-six and one second later on the very same day, you stare into oikawa’s eyes and feel yourself chip piece by piece. you hear cracks of yourself crumble past his fingers and into the ground below, because you know his fingers aren’t spread open to catch them. his eyes are steady on yours, because he only thinks this is it.

that you are it.

that she wasn’t it.

five thirty seven pm and you remember that you’re in oikawa’s apartment again for the fourth time this week because you need to taste someone else before you seek strawberry and mint again. 

but when you knock on the door and it swings open, you see brown eyes. 

hanamaki takahiro has grey. he lets you knock a total of three times and always jokingly asks who’s at the door before you hear the lock click. oikawa tooru swings the door open without even letting you make contact for the second knock, because he’s pulling you into the depths with him and kissing you with lips that taste like red, and blood, and everything that isn’t takahiro. 

you know he wants to be your savior, just as you know that he can’t swim. but he’s pulling you under with him, and only letting you breathe with your face held in between his hands so all you see are depths of brown. 

(you want to see grey.)

(stormy, grey eyes, that look like crescent moons when they smile. but in front of you, you see the hue of earth. five thirty-eight pm and you’re breaking because this isn’t it.)

 this could never be it, and oikawa knows because he thinks the same. 

you see in his eyes that he wishes to be a savior, and because you are as broken as he you let it be known to the universe that you wish to be saved too. 

“you aren’t her,” he mumbles against your lips, and you cry harder. 

“i know,” you say, thinking about how he said you would ruin each other and how much truth is actually in those words. 

all you know is that you don’t cry because you aren’t her, but you cry because the lips that are pressed against yours taste like blood instead of strawberry. when you part again, he closes his eyes and knocks his forehead against yours.

you hear his apology before he says it.

holding his face in between your hands, you breathe again.

(you still feel like you’re drowning, but your legs are kicking and your head is still above the water so you’re still fine.)

“tooru, this isn’t okay.”

he laughs; a bitter, broken laugh, and covers your hands holding his face and opens his eyes to look at you. “we aren’t okay, either.”

you suppose he’s right, so release the hold on your tears and allow them to flow this time. they fall; in steady streams from your eyes, sliding hot down your cheeks, until they dangle on your chin and drip onto the collar of your shirt. oikawa looks at you and thinks that you look as broken as him.

the clock in the living room ticks, and the room jumps from a void like silence one second, to just a room in the next.

“this isn’t love,” you tell him, and he nods, smiling at you.

you think his smile looks honest.

“this isn’t,” he says.

“i miss him,” you whisper, because you hold no other truth.

“i’m sorry i’m not makki,” oikawa laughs, tears from a hurt that has nothing to do with you spilling down his own cheeks, and wetting the collar of his shirt.

neither of you wipe your own tears. your hands in his, threaded together like mismatched pieces of fabric on a  scarf meant to be one color, but it works. it doesn’t look like it’s in place, but for now it works.

“i’m sorry i’m not her either,” you laugh, looking as broken as him because you know there’s no point in trying to look whole in front of someone who sees the cracks in you before you could move to see them for yourself.

“are we gonna be okay?” you ask, even if you know oikawa probably only has questions in his head instead of the answers you’re trying to grasp for.

“i have no fucking clue,” oikawa laughs, sniffling, because he finally feels his resolve cracking under the weight of the reality he faces.

he knows as well as you that what you share isn’t love. what you share is a maybe. because maybe this could be love. if you weren’t looking for stormy grey eyes and strawberry kisses, maybe you could find love in earth colored orbs and blood red lips. if he wasn’t thinking about his love and world from three months ago, then maybe this could be it.

maybe you could have been it.

maybe the word us could have been you, and him.

maybe the night could be kind enough, and maybe the moon will shine tonight for the both of you.

but it isn’t, doesn’t, and he knows it won’t. it doesn’t anger him.

for now this is enough, and when oikawa locks eyes with you he knows that you’re thinking the same.

tonight, you tell yourself that blood means life and not a wound, and oikawa tooru is the salvation the universe told you is for you. he kisses you once more, and tells himself that tonight he is the savior that he could never be half of three months ago.

he can’t swim, and neither can you, but tonight, you choose to drown together.

(the clock ticks to five fourty and the room is still just a room. it isn’t heaven, hell, nor a void. it’s just a room, and today it is enough.)

(this isn’t love, but tonight a maybe feels like it’s enough.)

 -

[ponydoodles]

Mod Masterpost

Here’s a post 4 all of u mobile users, all of the mods in one place! It includes the pic of their ponysona/mod pony, a little description and their social media (If available). If they don’t have any social media listed, DO NOT ask for them, they’re not there for a reason!

Click on “Keep Reading!” This post will be updated accordingly!

absolutely exhausted and gay

gender?? no thanks, i’ve had gender once and didn’t like it

cries at every movie

fav things to draw: Muffins, Twilight, Twuffins, Luna, redesigns and headcanons, silly things and memes

Hi there!! Im mod Mizzle (formerly mod Ivy!!) and im the creator of ponydoodles! I like cats, bugs and staying up late until 5am. I’m a part time freelance artist and I’d love to draw for you! Check out my carrd for more details !! <33

carrd | tumblr | ?????

ponydoodles tag

slow @ art

loves All ocs

pink

ponydoodles’ only triple hired mod

favorite stuff 2 draw: uhh cute pony interactions??? is that a thing??

hi!! i’m mod glitter and i draw here sometimes. i’m not super good at drawing regularly but i do my best!! also i lov Pink. So Much

carrd | tumblr | :)

ponydoodles tag

▪︎ I’ve loved mlp since 2012, and I’ve been a mod here since 2018!

▪︎ My ponysonas name is Homebody!

▪︎pronouns are she/her or they/them!

▪︎my favorite characters are flim and flam! Love me some rat bastards!

▪︎my main tumblr is @bubaluv , and I’m bubaiuv on deviantart!

ponydoodles tag

carnival enthusiast

art is my life and animation is my oxygen

hella neurodivergent

magic is real

I’m called Ferris ✦ I make cartoons full time, but sometimes I like to treat myself to a happiness-infused doodle of candy-colored horses. I’m here to share some of those doodles with 𝕐𝕆𝕌, 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕍𝕀𝔼𝕎𝔼ℝ, and contribute to the positive vibes this blog radiates!!! tumblr ✦ =) ✦ deviant

ponydoodles tag

the boy so nice they named him twice

XxUltimateDiscordLoverxX

ponies be like: im transing my gender

hii!! im mod treat and i use they/he pronouns!! i love ponies a whole bunch and i love drawing them even more! i joined the blog because i love making people happy and im super hyped to be here!!!

Tumblr - Instagram - Deviantart

ponydoodles tag

The Theatre System (no, none of them will draw for me hdvbdhcv)

ponies w/ paws r my shit. also ill try to b canon-adjacent w/ my weird art hdxhs

gender is *muffled fluid mogai ramblings*, n im an aroace lesbian uwu

if im not thinking about pinkiedash, lovecore, or danganronpa im dead

hehe hi! im mod cottonskittles, head empty only pinkiedash, and i just like drawing for free lol,, i kin rd so im very dumb (/j im gr8), and uhhhh my art changes a lot sorry :pensive: also i rlly like to draw pinkiedash, of course hbvdsxc hope to have a fun time on the blog :3c

DA | tungler | ponydoodles tag

hiya!! I’m a new mod!! call me Bug Juice!! some facts ab me:

- I’m super ultra mega gay + ace 😎

- I keyboard smash a LOT and at this point it’s just a part of me

- I like mlp almost as much as I like jjba

- my fav mlp ship rn is Parcel Post x Braeburn and I have NO clue why HDBDND

I don’t use my main tumblr much but I do have instagram!! and a linktree!!!

(image text reads: BUG JUICE, he • him)

Ponydoodles tag

Hey guys/gals/nonbinary pals, formally Mod Techno (Now Mod Salem) here, I turned 20 recently and since I was gonna have to go into my mod page anyway to update it, I thought I might as well completely refresh it to fit me more!

★My name is Sam, you may know me from my other art accounts as Punkpride, but you can just refer to me as Mod Salem here to keep things nice and clean!

★This is my new ponysona called Salem! They’re a batpony/changeling hybrid, and due to being so, they can only transform their hoof wings/eyes/mane to different colors/shapes/styles.

★My pronouns are They/Them, He/Him, and Xey/Xem!

★I’m agender and queer. Gender? never heard of them.

★My favorite ponies are Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Lightning Dust! (I ship them all together like a maniac in my ng/in general too lol)

★I’m a piercings and punk aesthetic FANATIC

★You can find me on every platform I’m on/more about me here

★Check out my current ponydoodles art tag

★Check out old ponydoodles art tag

[image description: two drawings of my (Zoë) ponysona, Square Peg, who is a red earth pony wearing a tie dye shirt. the first drawing is large and drawn in a chalky style, and the second is small and drawn in a cartoon style. her pronouns (and mine) are she/her!]

i’m Mod Square, aka Zoë! i love mlp, emoji, and party games. my hobbies include rickrolling and using the taco bell rewards app. i play with my style a lot but i hope to always capture an air of carefree fun in my art!!!!!

ponydoodles tag | main blog | pony blog

Click for page two! ➡️

FORMER MODS

List of mods that are no longer on the blog! (Any mod that used to be a part of our blog but isn’t listed here we most likely don’t want to associate with no more)

Mod Irracat 

Mod Aurora

Mod Moon

Mod Vivi

Mod Nyxa

Mod Sketch

Mod Sang

Mod Sabbath

Mod Elf

Mod Purble

[archiefm]

         ... claws my way up from hell once more and vomits onto the dash.... hello. its nora. i used to write rory bergstrom, but if u were here before that u might remember me as greta or alma putnam or..... som1 else.... an endless carousel of trash children..... this is finn, who i actually wrote for an early version of this rp abt 5yrs back now...... grits teeth..... so forgive me if im rusty i havent written him in a long time but seein honey boy gave me a lotta finn muse n im keen to get Back On The Horse yeehaww...

DYLAN O’BRIEN / CIS-MALE — don’t look now, but is that finn o’callaghan i see? the 25 year old criminology and forensic studies student is in their graduate year of study year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be judicious, adroit, morose and cynical, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he will make a name for themselves living off-campus. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her )

shakes my tin can a humble pinterest, ma’am....

finn has a bio pasted at the bottom (n written in like.... 2015.... gross) but it’s long  so if u don’t wanna read it here’s the sparknotes summary..... anyway this was written years ago n a lot of it seems really cliche and lame now but..... we accept the trash we think we deserve

grumpy, ugly sweater wearing, tech-savvy grandpa

very dry sense of humour and embraces nihilism. 

if ron swanson and april ludgate had a baby it would be finn

he was raised in derry, just south of dublin.

from a big family. elder sister called sinead. he also has a younger sister (aoife), a younger brother (colm), and a collie named lassie because his father lovs cliches (finn hates cliches but loves his dog). 

his father was a pub landlord and his mother worked at the market sellin fruit n veg when they met but got a job as a medical receptionist when she had kids cos it meant she cld be there with them in the day and work nights.

his parents met when they were p young and fiesty and rushed into marriage cos they were catholic n just wanted to have sex. his family were literally dirt-poor, but they had a lot of love i guess

hmmmmm his relationship w his father wasn’t the best cos i can’t write character who have healthy relationships w their parents throws up a peace sign. yh, had a pretty emotionally distant, alcoholic violent father n so gets a lot of his bad habits i.e. drinking as a coping mechanism and poor anger management from him BUT anyway

as a kid he was never very motivated in class, he always had a nervous itch to be off somewhere doing something else. struggled under government austerity bcso there just wasn’t the resources to support low income families where the kids had learning difficulties n needed support. fuck the tories am i right 

his mum suggested he try sports to help w his restless energy but he was never any good at football so he took up boxing and tap dance instead. he took to tap dancing like a fish to fuckin water. as adhd n found this as a really good way to use his excess energy in a creative way

had a few run ins with the police in his early teens for spray painting and graffiti, but he straightened himself out n now actually considering becoming a detective inspector??? cops are pigs.

he had a youtube channel where he posted videos of him tapdancing and breakdancing as a kid, basically would be a tiktok boy nowadays, n had like... a small fanbase in his early teens. attended several open auditions unsuccessfully, until he was finally cast in billy eliot when he was fifteen.

during billy eliot he began dating an italian dancer called nina. they became dance partners soon after and toured across the republic with various different shows (inc riverdance lol the classic irish stereotype). their relationship was p toxic tbh, they were both very hot tempered people and just used to argue and fight all the time.

he went semi-pro at tap dancing, and nina couldn’t stand being second best so she moved back to italy with her family. ignored his texts, phone calls, etc, eventually he was driven to the point where he used his savings to buy a plane ticket, showed up at her house and she was like wtf?? freaked out and filed a restraining order accusing him of stalking.

he was fined for harassment and then returned home to derry, but after the incident with nina he quit dancing for good and finished his leaving cert before heading to university in the US to get as far away from nina and his past life as poss. and basically since he quit dancing to study forensics (death kink. finn cant get enough of that morgue. just walks around sayin beat u) he’s become a massive grump and jsut doesn’t see the good in people any more.

u’ll find finn in an old man bar drinking whiskey bc he is in fact an old man at heart or sat on his roof smoking a joint, drawing wolves and lions and skeletons and shit, playing call of duty or getting blazed or at the corner of the room in a house party ignoring everyone and scrolling through twitter. is a massive e-boy. always up-to-date on memes and internet slang. has reddit as an app on his phone

not very good at communication. rather than solve his issues by talking, he’d prefer to just solve them through fighting or running away from his problems hence why he has come halfway across the world to get away from an issue which probs cld have been solved w a few apology emails.

takes a lot to phase him, but when his beserk button gets pressed he can become a bit pugnacious like an angry lil rottweiler. in his undergrad he was in a few fist fights but doesn’t really do tht any more as he doesn’t condone violence.

 in the previous version of this rp he was hospitalised like 5 times. pls, give my son a break. stop tryin to kill him. he literaly got a bottle smashed over his head and bled out all over his favourite angora rug that was the only light of his life

works at the campus coffee shop n always whines about how he’s a slave to capitalism. always smells of coffee

lives off campus with an elderly woman named Marianne, and basically gets reduced rent bcos he makes her dinner / keeps her company. they have a great bond

fan of karl marx. v big on socialism

insomniac with chronic nosebleeds

cynical about everything. too much of a fight club character 4 his own good n has his head up tyler durden’s sphincter

always confused or annoyed

statistics

basic information

full name: finnegan seamus o'callaghan nickname(s): finn age: 25 astrological sign: aries hometown: derry, ireland occupation: phd student / former street entertainer fatal flaw: cynicism positives: self-reliant, street smart, relaxed, intelligent, spontaneous, brave, independent, reliable, trustworthy, loyal. negatives: hostile, impulsive, stubborn, brooding, pugnacious, untrusting, cynical, enigmatic, reserved.

physical

colouring: medium hair colour: dark brown, almost black eye colour: brown height: 5’9” weight: 69kg build: tall, athletic voice: subtle irish accent, low, smooth. dominant hand: left scar(s): one on the left side of his ribs from a knife wound that he doesn’t remember getting cos he was drunk distinguishing marks: freckles, tattoo of a wolf howling at a moon allergies: pollen and the full spectrum of human emotion alcohol tolerance: high drunken behaviour: he becomes friendlier, far more conversational than when sober, flirtier, and generally more self-confident.

psychological

dreams/goals: self-fulfilment, travel the globe, experience life in its most alive and technicoloured version, make documentary films, help the vulnerable in society, grow as a human being.

skills: jack-of-all-trades, very fast runner, good at thieving things, talented tap dancer, good in crisis situations, dab-hand at mechanics, musically-intelligent, can throw a mean right hook and very capable of defending himself, can roll a cigarette, memorises quotes and passages of literature with ease, can light a match with his teeth.

likes: the smell of the earth after rain, poetry, cigarettes, shakespeare, whiskey, tattoos, travelling, ac/dc, deep conversations, leather jackets, open spaces, the smell of petrol, early noughties ‘emo phase’ anthems.

dislikes:  the government, parties, rules, donald trump, children, apple products, weddings, people in general, small talk, dependency, loneliness, pop music, public transport, justin timberlake, uncertainty.fears: fear itself, drowning alignment: true neutral mbti: istp – “while their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, istps are actually quite enigmatic. friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, istp personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. istps can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.” (via 16personalities.com)

full bio (lame as fuck written years ago..... pleathe...)

tw homophobia

born in quigley’s pub on the backstreets of sunny dublin, young finnegan o'callaghan was thrown kicking and screaming into the rowdy suburbs of irish drinking culture. the son of a landlord and a fishwife, he never had much in the way of earnings, but there was never a dull moment in his lively estate, where asbo’s thrived, but community spirit conquered. at school, finn was pegged as lazy and unmotivated, though truly his dyslexia made it hard for the boy to learn in the same environment of his peers and only made him more closed-off in class. struggling with anger management, finn moved from school to school, unable to fit the cookie-cutter mould that school enforced on him, though whilst academic studies were of little interest to the boy, he soon found his true passions lay in recreational activities. immersed into the joys of sport from as young as four, finn was an ardent munster fan and anticipated nothing more than the day he could finally fit into his brother’s old pair of rugby boots.

his calling finally came unexpectedly, not in the form of rugger, but through dance. to learn to express himself in a non-academic way, he began tap dancing, finding therapy in the beat of his soles against the cracked kitchen tiles (much to his mother’s disgrace). it wasn’t a conscious choice, finn just realised one day that dance was something that made him feel. a king of the streets, finn made his fortune on those cobbled pavements – dancing and drawing to earn his keep. by default, finn became a street artist, each penny he earned from his chalk drawings saved in a jam jar towards buying his first pair of tap shoes. though many of his less-than-amiable neighbours called him a nancy and a gaybo, finn refused to quit at his somewhat ‘unconventional’ hobby, for the young scrapper found energy, life, and released anger through the rhythm of tap. soon he branched out into street dance, hip hop, break dancing, lyrical, his days spent smacking his scuffed feet against the broken patio into the night.

when he was thirteen he took up boxing, and as expected, his newfound ‘macho’ pastime conflicted with his dancing. the boxers called him ‘soft’; the dancers called him ‘inelegant’. he felt like two different people; having to choose between interests was like being handed a knife and asked to which half of himself he wished to cut away. he couldn’t afford professional training in dance, with most schools based in england and limited scholarships available. instead, he made the street his studio, racking up a small fanbase on youtube. when he was fifteen he made his debut in billy eliot at the olympia theatre in dublin. enter nina de souza, talented, beautiful and italian; ballet dancer, operatic singer, genius whiz kid, and spoiled brat. she was selfish, conceited, hell bent on getting her own way, and every director’s nightmare. finn fell for her like a house of cards. he’d always had a soft spot for girls who meant trouble. and so their hellish courtship began.

by the time they were seventeen, the two young swans had danced in every playhouse across the republic. they were known in theatres across the country for their tempestuous personalities, their raging arguments with one another, their tendency to drop out of shows altogether without any notice, yet the money kept rolling in and the audiences continued to grow. for three years, their families continued to put up with their hysterical fights followed by passionate reconciliations. he was too possessive, and she was too wild. their carcrash of a relationship finally came to a catastrophic halt when nina broke off the whole affair and returned to italy with her family. for months finn tried to contact her, yet his phone calls, texts, facebook messages were always ignored, until finally he was driven to drastic measures and used his savings to get a plane to her home town. when finn turned up uninvited at nina’s house she freaked out – and rightly so – she contacted her agent, accused him of stalking her, and had a restraining order placed against him. finn was arrested, held in a station overnight, and charged with harassment before he was allowed to return to dublin.

after the incident with nina, finn lost the fight in his eyes. he became far more hostile, far less likely to retaliate with his own fists, and picked fights not for the thrill of feeling his own fists pummel another into a wall, but for the sensation of his own brittle bones cracking. he dropped his tap shoes in a dumpster, stopped talking to his friends, followed his father’s advice and went back to school to complete his leaving certificate. a few short months later, and finn was packing his bags, saying his bittersweet goodbyes, and travelling half-way across the globe to be as far away as possible from his past self, his mess of a life, and most of all nina. it seemed somehow ironic that the boy who had been cautioned by the garda so much during his youth for spray painting, busking without a liscence, and raucous parties would become the grumpy, aloof overseas student studying a degree in criminology; that his once reckless spirit could be crushed so easily. 

of all things that finn could be called, straightforward would never be one of them. ever since his first days in atticus, the boy was pegged as hostile, hot-headed, cynical, rude. he seemed to spend more time in his thoughts than engaging in conversation. like a ticking time-bomb, finn’s anger was of the calm kind, liable to explode without a moment’s noticed. his unpredictable personality make him something of an enigma to those who aren’t amiable with the lad, though hostile as he may appear, he harvests a good heart. loyalty lies at the centre of his affections, and whilst his friends are few in number, he makes a lifelong partner. somewhere within finn, there’s still some fight left, but mostly he has recognised that his hedonistic lifestyle did little to leave him fulfilled – mostly, it just emptied him out – and over his three years at university has resigned himself to a nihilistic predicament.

        if u wanna plot with me pls pls pls im me or like this post!! i am always game for plots i love em so excited to write with you all here r some ideas

study buddies. finn is now a phd student so has to start takin shit seriously. he gon be in the library every day doing that independent study. if he had ppl who were also regular library goers n they get each other coffees to save time.... tht wld be sweet

ppl who love techno dj sets and going super hard on the weekends!!! fuck yea

friends with benefits. exes on bad terms. ppl he tried to date but couldnt because he’s always emotionally hung up on someone else. spicy hook up plots

ppl he met touring?? maybe ppl who were also in the entertainment industry..... anyone got a character who is ex circus hit me up

does anyone else study criminology / forensics / criminal psych / law? phd students sometimes lecture so he cld be an assistant lecturer / tutor if ur character is in a younger year

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

finn goes to the skatepark and all the young boys there think he’s a gradnpa which he is! 

[okjimin]

✨🍒🌹♥️ happy birthday to my gf my wife my soulmate dia i lov u so so so much i hope u have the best day ever icb were turning 20 together that is so cute and rly shows how much we r truly SOULMATES i lov u 2 death u make me soooo happy ur literally such a positive part of my life and i love our funny convos n rabbit sessions even when they get invaded by fbi agents alskskaa i’m so happy u came into my life bby here’s to NINE MONTHS of our beautiful friendship omg has it rly been 9 months?!? i’ve probably done the maths wrong but wow time flies when ur bffs....anyway miss dia i hope u get spoiled w lots of pressies and that u are surrounded w love and warmth on ur special day and omg...what’s this....jimin just txt me n told me to tell u he wishes u a happy bday and that he loves u (almost) as much as i do?!?! he also said everytime he looks up at the moon n stars on a nighttime he thinks of u bc ur so ethereal and he ALSO said ur so pretty n ur eyes are made from melted honey and soft earth n he basically just asked u to marry him?? i said yes on ur behalf omg not only are u turning 20 ur also abt to officially become mrs park jimin :O he also told me to tell u he’s depositing £200000 into ur bank account as a way to say thanks for being so amazing!!!!!! i lov u sm angel HAPPY BIRFDAY @jminsgf ♥️🌹🍒✨