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open to males 50+

Spontaneous is what she called her husband’s temperament. He was either a slice of paradise or a terrible asshole. Quite often was he accustomed to bringing his work home with him before becoming a nuisance. Usually Camille waved a flippant hand at it because it never interfered with her everyday tasks; she carried on living undisturbed without having to compromise her peace to placate his anger just for it to be restored the next day. Tonight things were grievous when she made the ill mistake of staying in bed and now she was being tortured by his barrage of nonsense. “—please enough of this. I can’t take tylenol again for another two hours… please, come, come here,” she stretches out her hand, fingers unfurling which mimicked her body when she turned to face him. Dark, slick hair curtained across her shoulder. “Can I offer you,” she was extremely idle with her words, very likely because she didn’t feel like giving, “a massage. Your shoulders look tense and it’s stressing me out.”

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You okay? Yeah, you okay? Yeah, you okay?

Blue Valentine (2010) dir. Derek Cianfrance

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Face-off | Alba Baptista vs Fábio Silva

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MICHIEL HUISMAN & TERESA PALMER 2.22, 2017

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   Shoulders were hunching together, meeting her halfway with a glimmer of excite as Chey began to sound a bit more ambitious towards his gripes about wanting to indulge in a holiday whimsy. Otherwise Christmas for Sam was picking out a bottle of brandy to mix into his egg nog. Yet for some reason he was struck with intrigue no—suspicion—because she remembered long enough to bring it up again - an unlikely and now increasingly questionable revelation to him. The cocking of his head complimented the curve of his brow as he blindly took the drink she slid his way. Tasting its contents with ease, he looked dubious at first before sitting up straight until the arch on his spine was no longer present. “I have more ice stored inside my freezer than all the snow dusting across Texas, Chey... We might as well celebrate Christmas in Australia.” Texas didn’t remind him of stockings by the hearth, hot chocolates and the carolling. “You can’t just throw a Christmas ham onto the grill. That’s like blasphemy.” Sam lifted his pointer finger at her as his own assumptions began to brew in his conscious. He pointed to the curve of her lips before slowly lifting it to her forehead which is where he imagined her motives lay. She was way too accommodating of the idea… and that wasn’t very Chey-esque of her… There is was. The inadvertent curl of his lips appear, the infamous and indignant look he gives her that is very Sam-esque of him. He likes to think it is a half-hearted gesture because he’s convinced that she’s kidding as he digests the hurried babble of hers, focusing solely on ex-boyfriends and weddings. It was all beginning to sound too familiar. “Oh crap. Tell me you’re lying. Like actually, legitimately tell me you’re lying… who the hell goes to their ex’s wedding?” He wants to laugh it off and he wants her to join him so that the two can giggle at the insanity of her proposal. Only that he’s worried he’ll be the only one who’s laughng. “Wait—why? I mean… why? I thought you can’t stand the guy and now you want me to be your date so that we can create our own rendition of ‘The Wedding Date’?”

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“Remember when you said you were wanting to do something fun and interesting for the holidays?” Whether they actually said that or was just an exaggeration created by Chey was truly a mystery. She chose to believe the former, of course. Getting comfortable in the booth across from them, she nonchalantly slid them a drink she ordered towards them. A sweet gesture… or bribery, more like it. “What about a trip to Texas?” Even she was painfully aware of how little appeal that sentence had and she instantly tried to hide her own grimace. “Think about it… Great barbecue, not too painfully cold, going to my ex-boyfriend’s wedding with me, fun Holiday traditions…” Though she did her best to gloss right over the most important part of her proposal, she knew mumbling it quickly wouldn’t exactly hide it. She wore a sheepish grin and nodded towards them after taking a much needed swig of her beer. “Is that drink good? Want an appetizer? Let me buy you an appetizer…”

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   His tell-tale smile was anticipated when he’d done and said everything on purpose. The playful bastard was grinning wide enough that he swore the ends of his moustache curled from glee too when Valentina approved of his overstay. For all his purpose he was willing to lay there like a fish on land willing to be flayed by her. Ricki’s face took on a look of sincerity and his gaze signified earnest. “See, in crazy people theory that means we’re married,” he winked before giving her a crooked grin, exposing his canine which was half-way plated with gold - a remembrance to his previous rowdiness resulting in him getting his tooth chipped.

He would unbutton his shirt, direct her to where he was wounding but he withstood, stilling himself when he preferred her searching hands to prod and pry throughout his body to see where his injuries resided. It was his sly little engagement of her and even if he knew she knew it for herself, she was still indulging in it which spoke all things good in his books so as long as she wasn’t tutting or slapping him upside the head.

“Darlin’, I’m selfish. Be my guest,” he insisted as he bared his clothed chest to her and he even hunched himself forward, canvassing her body with his tall stature and his sights feasted on those beautifully lithe fingers of hers.

Valentina couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Ricki’s half-hearted comment, his mock sympathy delivered with a theatrical smack against his chest. It was their playful banter, the glue that held their dynamic together. She snickered at his parody of concern, recognizing the familiar dance of their camaraderie. Ricki’s willingness to turn into putty for her was something she both appreciated and teased him for.

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   They were happy drunks as he noted. Enough to where their cognizant was present but the faint blushes that appeared on his wife’s cheek let him know that alcohol was being stored somewhere inside and he’d vouch for another bottle of wine to hear her giggle in the same way again - that if he could and would transfer it on to a CD so that he can rewind back to that exact part again and again. It was just that. Marriage that was adored and not a thing of externality - only unity. Simply, it was a bond between two souls that has a reality only the two of them can see. Henrik drank from his glass, his cheeks coated by the buttery undertones of oak and fruits. He watched appetently, grinning till the canthus lines exposed on his eyes, the tut he echoes to dissuade her tears. She was truthfully beautiful - from the time he met her - flaming hair and all, and until now. Today. He can truly stare at her all day… “I won’t let you,”  Henrik held no intention of letting her repay any gestures he’d forgone. Instead, he picks up the necklace to don onto her exposed ivory neck, pressing a kiss to her collarbone afterwards. There was something about the colour emerald clashing against the warm undertones of red which she embodied. His lips met hers several times, kissing against her fleshy pout which appeared endless and it tasted of many things - amalgamations of savoury and sweet. “I love you. All I can think of is how beautiful are." Henrik reveals his lap, welcoming her bottom to the space so entirely vacant and needy for her weight on him. Everything smelt so warm and inviting right now that his mind felt everywhere - his preferred smell being his wife. Fingers laced the ends of her hair before he pushed them to one side and exposed her neck. "I'm tempted to say good-bye to dinner in favour of this," he drawled when her sweet scent had him buckling if it weren't for the fact he was already seated.

' and even more reason to drink, darling, ' she counts, though very much encouraging her own bad behavior. digits encompass another bottle in hand, as she attempts to open it just like all the others before. though finding the bottle opener she had installed more beneficial than she had hoped. still, it doesn't stop the slightly inebriated laugh from falling from painted lips ... pouring both her and henrik a glass, she welcomes this moment they share together. another anniversary, and another year she comes to realize he was her better half ... yet, she wonders how many people could say their spouse was just that ? umber hues gaze upon the man in view, before looking down to the charcuterie board she had prepared them. showing what a trip to whole foods could do, with the main dish still in the oven. late start, but better late than never, right ? her gaze shifts back to henrik, as he holds his glass up to her for a toast. an almost coquettish expression lingers at her lips, as he poses more than just a toast. he reverberates adoration for her which is followed by small blue box he carried in tow. she tries to hold back the surprise, but only finds herself to choke with tears. ' honey, you shouldn't have ── ' digits drawing the pendant from it's safekeep, as she places her wine glass down. ' now how am I suppose to measure up to this ? ' she titters, coming to wrap her arms around his neck and placing a tender kiss at his lips, ' but, I love it and I love you, thank you. '

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Tagged by: @waveofstars

Tagging: YOU!

NAME? gigi (not really that’s just my nickname but i keep my real name a secret for no reason tbh lmao)

PRONOUNS? she/her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION? tumblr remains my default platform for roleplay. i’m starting to warm up to discord and sometimes i write on whatsapp.

MOST ACTIVE MUSE? i really can’t say. i let my muse decide who i want to fixate on which is always changing and the ones that are dying to be active are traumatised from their previous rp experiences

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS? way too many years and yet i still write like a toddler

BEST EXPERIENCE? the storytelling and getting to write some great stuff with the people i’ve met along the way. just how large a fictional world can grow and it is a wonderful experience overall <3 ooh and the endless plotting and sharing everything and anything with each other <33

RP PET PEEVES? literally just too much rules. i’m not one to talk but my guide is literally a contradictory to the type of rules i’ve come across on here. idk it makes me nervous and i hate, hate, hateeee feeling like i’ve overstepped someone’s rules. also i can’t stand this need for ‘aesthetics’ when it comes to writing. some of the best writing partners/ friends i’ve met through roleplay were ignored because they didn’t make their text small or used gifs, etc. this is why i don’t deprive myself of writing with people because you never know it might be your best experience yet!

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT? ah, my favourite trio. i do love being dramatic so a lot of angst comes first before everything else unless someone’s feeling randy LOL

PLOTS OR MEMES? plots. i try to be a meme gal but it always escapes my conscious

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES? it depends honestly. most of what i write borders lengthy. sueeeee me

TIME TO WRITE? jeeeeez. i call myself a night owl but lately i have -1 energy left in me by nighttime. i’m stubborn so i’ll still claim i’m a night owl but with spontaneous daytime activity nowadays >.>

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES? helpppp i wish lmfao. maybe there are some characteristics i share with them to make writing breezy but i will never be cool or edgy or broody or sassy or stop-eating hot like them

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Tom Hardy in Venom (2018)

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eddie brock is a cuddler.

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Monica Bellucci attends the Golden Lion Prize Ceremony at the 59th Venice Film Festival September 1, 2002

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   With the way he’d been so absolute about what she was going to say made it seem that his assumptions were irreversible and the truth. Harper realises she’s got a lot to live up to, the standards which his previous dates left apparently outdid the last. And then there was Harper. Dates were a foreign concept to her and they were so far and in between. She had dated aplenty—within the realm of pretend of course. It was all business at the end of the day. Very seldom did she move beyond just that and dabble into her own personal life. All the nuisance of explaining herself, her profession, her worth… it was easier to feign being the “lone wolf” and befriend the solitude that comes with her line of work. Alas, she was a women who crushed and it so happens that the one time she allowed herself to fancy a man, he so happens to be a dad. Harper can only smile minusculely before tutting when he had misunderstood her reaction altogether.

Her brows knitted together. “I’m not sure if I’m what you’re looking for,” she admitted. For some silly reason Harper was convinced that she could get away playing coy about her profession for as long as it allowed and if they dated long enough then perhaps he could come to like her for her. No, no. It wouldn’t be fair to him or his daughter. She drank a little more wine afterwards before the warmth of a smile touched her lips. “You are a great guy.” She was convinced of that part.

Open to: females

Muse: Sean Flanagan, 48, mechanic, single father

Sean's on a first date with your muse, letting them know that he is a single father. It hasn't gone well in the past for him, leaving him feeling jaded and jumping to rejection before its happened. His ex did a number on him, no less.

"Let me guess. This is the part where you tell me that I'm a great guy, but it isn't what you're looking for," he offered, the words humorless. Sean was used to the dog and pony show, the rejection that came once his date found out that he was a single father. It wasn't just him. They were a package deal, which meant that Sean tried to get the information out as early as possible during a date. Things had progressed a little quicker than normal tonight, so he hadn't had a chance to lay it out, and the look was one that he was familiar with when the words had finally been spoken. Another disappointment. Maybe he should just give up entirely. As much as he wanted to be able to give Aislin a mother figure and find someone for himself, maybe it was just not meant to be.

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bonus:

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open to females/ nb — connor and your muse had an amicable breakup after he struggled to maintain their relationship due to his mental health. months have passed since he's seen them and he's in town and invited to their birthday party as a friend of course

   The birthday was family, the birthday was friends, the birthday was simple, sweet, and there was cake. Connor was seated in the middle of the room, caught somewhere in between family and friends, most so well-known yet needing reacquainting with. He was halfway through finishing his pint when he caught their eye from across the room. Not long ago there had been a greeting, a familiar hug, a quick kiss on their cheek, and a present to add onto the pile waiting for them to tackle afterwards. Connor was mannerly, respectful of their boundaries even when it felt strange to treat them like a friend. That there was no longer intimacy which he could explore freely and in moments like this he felt a whelm of longing and regret. It was emotions he supressed when he caught them make a beeline for him now that the party had gotten a bit more muted once the cake was cut. Connor enjoyed the low tunes that played inside the room and his smile picked up as they neared. "Hey stranger. Enjoying yerself? I'm still waiting to taste your cake," he furrowed his brows, "that cake," he corrected before the pun could escalate. He chuckled faintly. "So how have ya' been?"

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open to everyone — your muse is a detective working on a case which happens to involve tina, or as they believe tina involved herself in. she's a journalist known for her overenthusiastic prying in order to get a good story for the newspaper

   Tina was already rolling her eyes heavenward even before she got to her seat. They haven't uttered hello's and she can already spot the broody face that was harsh and rigid and expressed absolutely no wit at all. Sometimes these detectives were seriously so book cliché. “Oh detective why so serious? Do I have to start buying us rounds? I know living here toughens you up but you can at least unclench a bit." She said dismissively before blowing out an enthusiastic breath. "Hello detective!" She saluted this time and anticipated a more delightful greeting.