#ravenswoodofrp
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Violett Beane Gif Pack
By clicking here, you will find 87 gifs of Violett Beane from God Friended Me, episodes 2x20-2x22. All gifs were made by me for roleplay purposes only.
Please don’t add these gifs into gif hunts, repost, or claim them as your own. If you found this useful, a like or a reblog is always appreciated!
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[ 📱 — sms ] i can’t stop thinking about you. (Romanson)
[text] Because you just spent two weeks attached to my side. That might be Stockholm Syndrome.
[text] But I keep thinking about you too.
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I wasn’t tagged by anyone but I bummed this of off @hondagirll (thanks for tagging anyone who wants to do it!)
slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle-aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbent // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane
Tagging: @ravenswoodofrp @ice-whisper @donnasheridanroleplays @blairwaldorfs @isadorahart and anyone else who’s taking the time to read this, please do it, I wanna hear about you!
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Could you please do an Erick Lopez gif hunt?
Not sure will have time to do them as have other requests to get through but check out these gifs:
ravenswoodofrp - Crazy Ex Girlfriend - 43
ravenswoodofrp - Crazy Ex Girlfriend - 64
ravenswoodofrp - Faking It - 85
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Sophie Bday 2k21
Sophie @ravenswoodofrp,
Happy birthday! I love you so much and I’m glad you’ve been in my life for nine (9!!) years now. I hope you enjoy a little (possibly not so little) Handy Princess while you wait for their revival.
--
CRASH.
The cavernous hall swallowed up the sound and amplified it, so that it felt like there was an entire army fleet right there, firing at them. CRASH, Crash, crash, cras- Manny barely glanced up from Katamari as he picked up his feet, allowing a plaster head to roll underneath his chair. “Nice,” he called, as he tried to find something else small enough to roll up for star #6. “You was never good at gettin’ K.O.s in Mortal Kombat but in real life? You sure showed that guy. Whoever the fuck he was.”
“Juan Ponce de León,” came Joe’s voice. “You know, your grandmother never liked that statue. You did her a service by decapitating it.”
A groan sounded and Manny finally looked up, failing to suppress a grin at the sight of Isabelle standing rigid in the center of the room, hands covering her mouth in horror. The headless torso of a statue lay nearby, arm pointing at her in accusation. Manny raised his phone covertly, snapping a picture of the scene that Isabelle would surely find hilarious later. He filed it into a folder titled How Genovia Got Its Groove Back and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back from what had been a long and, for Isabelle, traumatic dance class.
“Don’t worry, Bellatrix,” he laughed as he walked over to examine the prone body. “You probably ain’t the first Genovian royal to murder a man in cold blood. Probably won’t be the last either.”
Joe opened his mouth as if to say something, but he pressed his lips together with a small shrug, saying nothing. Manny decided he was going to take that as conceding. Victory was, as usual, his.
Manny propped his elbow up on her shoulder, making sure to dig it in a little bit. Immediately, Isabelle snapped out of her stupor and glared at him, pulling away so quickly that he almost face-planted next to Juan on the marble. He stumbled a little before managing to right himself, still grinning as if he had meant to do that the entire time. Which he had.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he said as he regained his balance, “That dude fucking sucked. He fired the first shots in an ethnic cleansing war that lasted 300 years and he colonized Florida. Are you really upset you took out the dude responsible for Florida?”
Isabelle shot the decapitated bust a look of disgust, as though he were personally responsible for all her problems. She was not to be dissuaded from her dismay though. “No, Mandalorian.” She shoved him lightly, only serving to increase his grin. “I am not upset that I took out this idiot. I’m upset that this stupid ball is three days away and I can’t get through this dance without breaking toes and destroying half the room! God, this is going to be just like the state dinner back at the consulate.”
“I think the party planners learned not to decorate with vases full of marbles if you’re going to be around.”
She shoved him again and pinched the bridge of her nose. Through the creases of her fingers, he could see that her eyes looked slightly red and damp. All thoughts of teasing her left him immediately and he slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
“Come on, Swan. You’re gonna make the waltz your bitch.” A heavy sigh came from the corner where Joe stood, but Manny paid him no mind. He couldn’t be expected to be on his most diplomatic behavior when it was just them in the palace. “As soon as we landed in Genovia, you started workin’ on princess lessons non-stop because someone decided to shove balls in your face. You’re just overworked and overwhelmed and that ain’t no way to be when you’re trying to dance.”
It was a sign of just how exhausted Isabelle was when she snuggled in closer to him instead of elbowing him in the side. Her head drooped listlessly onto his shoulder, making his heart stutter. “Okay, Handy Manny. What do you suggest I do? Because I kind of need to learn to waltz without starting an international incident by Saturday and so far, I’m only on course to start the next world war.”
He raised questioning eyes towards the bodyguard-slash-driver, who sighed. There was only a moment of hesitation before he jerked his head towards the double staircase.
Manny nodded his thanks and started shepherding Isabelle upstairs, stopping only to scoop the head of Ponce de León under his arm. “What we gonna do is take a break. You ain’t done nothing fun since you got here, and I know the perfect way to blow off some steam. Let’s go up to my room.”
“I don’t want to know,” Joe called after them.
“Get your mind outta the gutter! Unless…” Isabelle elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Kidding, Broseph! Just gonna play some games. Knock before entering though!”
He laughed as another elbow caught him in the chest and he had to fight to keep a grip on his head. She still hadn’t lost the fight in her; he could work with that.
--
An hour later and Manny’s eyes glittered in amusement as Isabelle did another victory dance that would make the showiest of football players jealous. She did an impressive running man in front of him, before she got all up in his personal space. “You should flee the country after that defeat, Manatee. Really, break out your tiny mandolin because there’s no way I should have been able to beat you with that combination. Baby Rosalina, the Badwagon, slick wheels, and the Peach Parasol? Statistically the worst build you can make but I still wooped you.”
Her robot was not quite as impressive, but she seemed to be coming down from the high of winning and she flopped into her chair, all loose limbs and smiles that he hadn’t seen at all in their time in Genovia. He flicked a piece of popcorn at her, grinning when it made contact right in the center of her forehead. “We were on the same team, y’know. Tu victoria es mi victoria.”
“Psh.” She rolled her eyes so hard; he was almost afraid they’d roll out of her head, and they’d have to rewrite the meatball song to be about eyeballs instead. “There are no teams in Mario Kart. You’re either in first place or you’re a loser, and Isabelle Mignonette Grimaldi Finley Renaldo is no loser.”
Manny glanced over at her, doubt clearly etched on his face. “You’re forgettin’ I went to high school with you.”
It was Isabelle’s turn to throw popcorn at him. The kernels hit his cheek and bounced into his lap, from which he picked them up and popped them into his mouth with a mumbled thanks.
“Gross, Mandrake.” He was pleased to see that, despite her words, she still looked happy and relaxed. “Wanna play another round? I’d give you a Handy Manny-cap, but I don’t know how to make you any better considering the feat I just pulled off.” She wiggled in her seat, holding her controller up to her face as she started making another game without waiting for his assent.
He held his hand up. “Woah! Hold up, speed racer. Take your car to the pit crew, I got another game for us to play first. I gotta switch over to the PlayStation.”
She shrugged and tossed him her controller. “Whatever it is, I’ll kick your ass in that too.”
“It’s a co-op game, you gotta play in pairs.” Isabelle opened her mouth to say something, but he immediately cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, Lonestar. There’s first place or there’s loser, I heard you. This game ain’t like Mario Kart though. You either win as a pair or you don’t win at all. I heard from a little swan that you ain’t a loser, so get your head out of your ass, highness.”
Isabelle huffed in annoyance. He could see her in the corner of his eye, crossing her arms and pouting. Totally adorable. Not that he was prepared to get punched for telling her that. “You know I hate when you call me that,” she complained. “I’m going to have you tossed in the dungeon for contempt of court, Mango.”
“I love when you talk dirty to me,” he teased as he popped the game into the console.
A handful of popcorn hit his back, but he ignored the barrage of puffed snacks. His focus was directed towards the mat that he was unrolling. He kicked the kernels out of the way; he didn’t need to be looking at Isabelle’s face to know her guard was already kicking back in.
“DDR? What is this, the early 2000’s? I’ve had enough dancing to last me a lifetime; kicking your ass at Secret Rendezvous isn’t going to change that.”
Manny continued to ignore her as the blue, green, and white mat revealed its full form. It was larger than two DDR mats combined, and the arrow controls weren’t in the usual cross formation of the mats you would find in the basement of many older millennials. The arrows sat where the PlayStation controls usually were, in square formation, large enough for two people to stand on each arrow at once. There were also six arrows instead of four. The formation repeated three times across the mat.
Confusion radiated off Isabelle as Manny unfurled two cords from the top of the mat, plugging one into the player one slot and the other in the player two. Behind him, the plastic crinkled as she came closer to investigate.
“What the—this isn’t DDR.”
“Wow, who knew that swans were so astute?” He hardened the a, making Isabelle roll her eyes.
“So, what is it?”
Manny turned the console on, filling the room with music. “I had it custom made for you as soon as her royal nightmare told you that you had to do this ball. Worse, that you had to dance in it and make a good name for yourself with the homies on parliament. I remember your dance lessons back when the whole princess bombshell dropped. Personally, I don’t think the fact that they had an interior decorator redesign the place a week after your lessons was coincidence.” No one from the consulate was going to forget the incident any time soon, that was for sure. Who knew a hair tie and a tango could cause that much destruction?
Isabelle stood gaping at him, and it was the silence that made him uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his neck as she continued to stare. Silently, he wondered if he had fucked up. “Here,” he muttered, stepping on a button in the center of the mat. The screen switched over to a difficulty level selection, where he was confident in his choice of beginner. “Pick a song to boogie to. All the ones on this level should be pretty slow. 115 bpm or less.”
Still, she said nothing. Silence aside, she did step up to the controls and began to leaf through the provided music. Her eyebrows furrowed as she got further into the music library. Finally, she stopped on a song called Under Construction and turned to him, hands on her hips.
“Are all of these songs from video games?” she demanded.
He shoved his hands deep in his pockets to keep himself from scratching his neck again. “Yeah?” He shrugged and broke eye contact with her, choosing instead to look at the screen. “That’s your favorite kinda music and I figure it’s easier to learn shit when you’re familiar with at least part of what you’re doin’. And when you enjoy part of it.” No offense to Grandmère but the music she had selected for Isabelle to dance to had to be what it felt like to slowly be dying. Sure, the music was only 75 bpm, so it was a toddler’s version of the waltz, but it was like his soul was a snail and the tune was the Morton salt factory.
For a long while, Isabelle stared at the screen, wringing her hands in front of her. Manny was seriously concerned that he broke her somehow. Like, he didn’t have enough faith in her princess-ing abilities and now her Swan brain didn’t work anymore. She was never quiet and now she’d been quiet for at least two minutes, though it felt like a lifetime. His heart thumped at the thought of having to tell Grandmère that her princess protégé couldn’t attend the fancy state ball because she’d had the internal blue screen of death. Grandmère was scary. And she’d probably throw him in the dungeons with only lettuce to eat.
He was already mourning the loss of flavored food when Isabelle seemed to snap out of her 408 error state. “This one’s fine, I guess.” She didn’t seem to want to look at him. Talking was good though, right? “What do we do first?”
“The beginner difficulty should just cover the basic box step,” he said hesitantly. “We’re gonna start in the bottom left corner. The dance progresses counterclockwise so you’ll have your eyes on the moves for your first three turns.” He moved her to the correct square and repositioned her so that she was facing the correct direction. “The waltz is actually pretty easy. Joe was just tryin’ to show you too much at once. He went right into advanced lessons when he should have been takin’ cygnet steps.”
She didn’t laugh at the joke. Isabelle seemed to be avoiding his eyes as she asked him how the mat worked.
Manny explained the system, how the mat would need to detect two different pressure points for the move to count, since they were supposed to be working together, and how it took foot position into account with the turns. “It’s basically just co-op DDR,” he finished. “It’s easy. Cross Handy’s heart and hope to die.”
This brought a slight smile to her lips, and she shoved him. “You know I hate it when you call yourself Handy.”
“That’s why I do it.” He grinned, pleased with the teasing from her. He didn’t know why she was being weird, but now that she was shoving him around, he knew it wasn’t because she was mad. “Ready?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’m just gonna end up hurting you like I did Joe and that Leon dude.”
“What? Like that ain’t been our life since we were eight? I can take a little toe stepping.” He hit the accept button on the mat with his foot and stepped forward, wrapping one arm around her waist, and taking her free hand in his. “You’re ready,” he assured her.
The music started, a twinkling of piano, and Manny glanced at the screen for the cue to begin. “Start with your right foot,” he informed her. The arrows crept towards the indicator, and he nodded. “Now.”
Immediately their limbs got tangled up together as Isabelle tried to step forward instead of backwards. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her from tumbling to the floor. They ended up in a strange embrace, Isabelle pressed against him in an awkward dip.
Unbidden, a memory popped into his mind from the before times of the royalpocalypse. A warm night after finals with windows flung open, trying to tempt in a breeze as they played co-op games all night to celebrate the end of the semester. Emotions running high as they finally, finally beat New Super Mario Bros co-op without Manny-as-Mario jumping on Isabelle-as-Luigi’s head and murdering her. Real Isabelle flinging her arms around him and then the taste of aloo saag as her lips met his in, what had to be, the best five minutes of his life.
The immediate awkwardness as soon as they’d pulled away and Isabelle refusing to ever acknowledge that it had happened.
He released his grip on her as soon as she had found her footing and stepped away, rubbing his hands nervously over his pants. “I know Queen Bey said girls run the world, but for the waltz the dudes usually lead, Swan. You boss me around in every other aspect of life, you’re just gonna have to give this one to me.” He hated how frantic he sounded.
The thought of touching her again made his palms sweat, but he knew what he had been getting into when he’d rush ordered the game from some tech wizard from their college. What memories it would bring up. He mentally chided himself, reminding himself that he’d been ignoring his feelings for thirteen years and that he could continue to do so. Especially when Isabelle so clearly wasn’t interested. One momentary lapse of judgement aside.
“Okay,” he said, more gently. “C’mere. I’ll show you before we try again.”
She looked at him hesitantly, perhaps remembering the same memories that he was, but she stepped forward just the same.
“Okay,” he said again. “A waltz is just a three step dance when you break it down.” They resumed their stance, and he took a deep breath before slowly beginning to direct Isabelle. “You’re gonna be steppin’ back when we start. All you need to remember is step, step, slide.” He led her through the first steps, showing her how to step back with her right leg, out with her left, and then how to slide together on the three counts. They completed a three count and Manny guided her gently with his hand as they went into the next turn. “After every slide you do a quarter turn,” he explained.
They completed an entire circuit without music, neither one of them speaking. Isabelle only fumbled briefly throughout the attempt, but she didn’t break anything. It was progress.
When they finally broke away the silence was heavy between them, nothing like Manny was used to. Isabelle seemed at a loss for what to say; he’d have to mark the occasion on his calendar. Finally, the quiet seemed to be too much for her. “Where’d you learn to dance anyway? You’re, like, the least smooth person I know.”
“Ouch,” he held a hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “That hurts, Swan Lake. Also, you forget. I was a cheerleader and a wrestler, and I was invited to a shit ton of parties. Handy got moves, girl.”
“Shut up,” she laughed, shoving him in the chest. “All the moves you got are the ones inside your own brain.” She gave the tv a nervous look before squaring her shoulders and navigating back to the music screen. “Ready to try this again, with music? I’ll try not to make you an endangered Manatee this time.”
“Don’t worry, manatees are resilient. I’ll bounce back.”
They went back to Under Construction and got into position. “Hey, Manifesto?” Her voice was quiet again and she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. He hummed for her to go ahead. “Thanks for this. The game.”
Manny shrugged as they started the steps, his eyes not even glancing at the screen. “I know you’re motivated by winning and games. And that Joe is a shit teacher. I saw him tryin’ to teach Lionel and there’s a reason Lionel transferred to the Spanish embassy. Don’t tell Joe I said that though; it’ll ruin the buddy spy movie I been writin’ in my head for us.”
She smirked, too busy focusing on the steps to answer him. They made it through the almost five minute song without Isabelle stumbling too much; it wouldn’t win any prizes for best in show, but she also hadn’t murdered or maimed anything in the room. A victory for people and statues alike. Ponce de León glowered from the corner where he’d been abandoned.
They hit the final note and Isabelle threw her arms around him in excitement. That same scene jumped back into his mind. No way she didn’t feel his heart threatening to hammer out of his chest, Alien style. Was in his mind that she lingered into the hug a little longer than necessary? When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I waltzed without breaking anything! You were right, I made that dance my bitch!” A bit of an overstatement, but he nodded encouragingly. “What’s next?”
Manny put on his best announcer voice. “Pack your bags, ladies and gents. We’re about to travel. That’s the waltz progressive, for those of you not in the know.”
--
Chatter filled the air as politicians and diplomats schmoozed one another over glasses of champagne and pear crostini. All night, all eyes had been on the crown princess as Queen Clarice led her around, making introductions and small talk with all present. They were sizing Isabelle up, trying to decipher the foreigner who had shown up out of nowhere to claim her right to the throne.
Manny watched her for a different reason. The gown she wore had a bodice that seemed sheer, but wasn’t, and the beadwork on it made the dress look as though she was claimed by galaxies. The skirt wasn’t nearly as poufy as the rest of the women wore, probably for the safety of Isabelle and the guests, but was deep blue and had tiny amounts of beading as well. A tiara rested on her head. She looked beautiful. Weird though. He kind of missed her usual unkept hair and anorak jacket. As good as she looked, she was clearly uncomfortable and so… not Isabelle.
He watched her navigate the room for a minute longer before making his way over to her. He bowed upon reaching her. “Buenas noches, princesa. ¿Me puedo presentar?”
Surprisingly, she managed to keep a straight face as she excused herself from the duke of something-or-other. She looped her hand through his offered arm, and they stepped away from the man, who had turned his attention towards a champagne tray. “What are you doing?” she asked, while keeping her face as neutral as possible.
“Saving you. The dancing is about to begin, and I didn’t think you wanted to be stuck with that dude as your partner. Seemed like he thought your eyes had migrated south for the winter, cause that’s what he was talkin’ to. I assumed Grandmère might imprison you if you slapped some foreign dignitary for grabbin’ your princess peach. If you know what I’m sayin’.”
For once, fancy balls did something useful as Isabelle couldn’t punch him while everyone was watching her. “Gross, Manatee. He so was not staring at my chest.”
Manny shrugged. “Okay. If you want me to take you back to him, I can. We still got like twenty seconds before the music hits.” He started to turn back, but Isabelle yanked him forward.
“Don’t you dare. That’s a royal order, Måneskin.”
He grinned. “As you wish, highness.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Did you just Princess Bride me?”
His grin deepened as the dim elevator music faded, a signal that a dance was about to begin. “Been tryin’ to princess bride you for thirteen years, but thanks for noticin’. May I have this dance, princess?”
He bowed slightly, as was customary and extended his hand. All around them, royals, dignitaries, and very important people did the same as they prepared for the waltz. Isabelle smiled despite herself and accepted his hand. They readied themselves, getting into the position they had practiced several hundred times over the last few days.
The music started and they fell into the steps easily. It was a sign of just how much Isabelle had improved over their pseudo-DDR lessons that she seemed to be thinking about something other than the steps. Her eyebrows furrowed as she contemplated the music. “Does this sound familiar to you?”
“Does it?” He gave her his most innocent look, which was an automatic tipoff.
“It does! It sounds like…” she trailed off as she finally placed what she was hearing. “This is from Skyward Sword.” Her eyes found his as they twirled across the ballroom. “How did you get them to play this?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Wasn’t hard. I told the guy in charge of music that this was your favorite song and that’d you remember his name if he put it in the rotation. He’s tryin’ to win you over in hopes that he’ll get to be the royal emcee at your engagement party. ‘Sides, I know you love this song.”
Isabelle’s eyes softened. Once again, he was reminded of that warm night, years ago and the same energy crackling through them now. Maybe the song was right; maybe romance was in the air.
Then his words caught up to her. “Wait. My what party?”
But that was a story for another time.
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Violett Beane Gif Pack
By clicking the source link, you will find 112 gifs of Violett Beane from various interviews. All gifs were made by me for roleplay purposes only.
Please don’t add these gifs into gif hunts, repost, or claim them as your own. If you found this useful, a like or a reblog is always appreciated!
tw: flashing lights, dogs.
#violett beane#gifpacknetwork#gifpackshq#gmcentral#violett beane gif hunt#face: violett beane#*#ravenswoodofrp
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Dorito
who uses their words to fight people and who uses their fists
Neither one of them use their fists to fight people and they aren’t really good about using their words either. They’re both pretty non-confrontational and do their best not to make waves, but when it comes down to it, Mari is more likely to stand up to people. It just comes with the territory of having four siblings and too many first cousins to count.
who’s more likely to hog the blankets
Kiley. Mari has had to share beds on and off again with relatives for her whole life and is used to the idea of having to share a blanket. Kiley is an only child and the concept is entirely new to her. Mari often wakes up to find that Kiley has stolen all of the blankets and made herself a blanket cocoon.
who bakes and who cooks
Mari is definitely the cook in the relationship; if left to her own devices, Kiley tries to feed Mari frozen or freeze dried meals. Mari loves cooking and runs a food blog, so she is constantly trying new dishes.
Baking is more of an activity that they do together. They have to be in the mood for the precision that baking requires, but when they are in the mood, they’ll spend the whole day baking bread and pastries. They get especially crazy during the holidays, since Mari’s family goes all out, so they spend a lot of time in December baking for her many, many relatives.
who’s a sucker for matching couple things
Both of them. Not as an every day occurrence, but for special occasions they do have some couple-y clothes that they’ll break out. One of their favorites while they’re in California is wearing couple’s shirts to Disney. They have a set that says “Too Infinity” and “And Beyond,” as well as a set that features Mickey & Minnie leaning in for a kiss between the two shirts. The shirts are super corny, but they both love it.
who’s more likely to give the silent treatment when they’re upset
Kiley, but it’s not out of ill intention. Things tend to bother her more and her depression makes her doubt herself more, leading her to being quiet while she tries to sort her emotions out. Mari always gives her space to work through stuff on her own before they talk things out, which isn’t in her natural order, but she doesn’t want to put more pressure on Kiley.
who picks the obnoxious tracks (rainbow road) on mario kart
Mari allows Kiley to pick the tracks more often than not. Sometimes Kiley needs more relaxed courses and other times she’s okay with throwing the difficult tracks into the mix. Mari never wants to pick something that Kiley isn’t feeling up to that day and she’s fine letting Kiley take the wheel. That doesn’t mean she’s going to take it easy after the tracks are selected though; she’s playing to win.
who’s more likely to go on a health food kick
Both of them have their tendencies, depending on what’s going on in their lives. For Mari, it’s more an instance of discovering some type of healthy cuisine that she loves and eating nothing but that type of food for a month until she gets tired of it. For Kiley, it’s usually after she’s had a bout of depression and is trying to make up for all of the pre-packaged food that she had while she wasn’t feeling up to making anything else. She’s also vegetarian so, in general, her food tends to be healthier than what Mari eats on a regular basis.
who has better “puppy dog eyes”
Kiley does an excellent puppy dog eye. Mari’s is always way overdramatic and she winds up looking slightly ridiculous ( not that Kiley still doesn’t give in). Kiley has the move perfected though; just the right amount of pout, the perfect tilt to her head. Honestly, it reminds Mari of when Puss in Boots gives his patented kitty eyes in Shrek. It works every time.
who’s better at being a functional adult
They’re both good at being functioning adults. Both of them are prepared enough going to college and they both know how to work hard for what they want. That’s one of the things that drew them together, since they shared the dream of going to the same university and they know how hard it is to get into the school. They might not have everything figured out, but they’re good at working through their problems and they have each other to lean on when times get rough.
who’s more introverted and who’s more extroverted
Kiley is more introverted. She doesn’t like going to sporting events or parties or anything where there’s a really large gathering of people. Mari is pretty much the opposite; she’s always going out with her friends to places and was raised in a really loud family, so gatherings always feel like coming home to her. They are pretty good at compromising though; Kiley will go to smaller parties or events with Mari and Mari will choose nights to stay at home with Kiley so that they can cuddle and watch tv. They don’t have to do everything together, so there are also nights when they do their own things and then get to be happy when they reunite at the end of the evening.
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Sweetrox
who uses their words to fight people and who uses their fists
As a general rule, both of them are more likely to use their words to fight people. Clara probably throws the weakest punches you’ve ever seen, but she always has words that could cut people. Alex is usually a pacifist but he’s definitely more likely to throw a punch. Only if he gets seriously angry though, and always feels bad about it afterwards.
who’s more likely to hog the blankets
Alex. Clara’s favorite season is winter and she’s much more attuned to New York winters. Alex comes from a warmer state and has a tendency to snag the blankets in the middle of the night. Sometimes he even does it on purpose because Clara will snuggle in closer to him.
who bakes and who cooks
Alex is slightly better at cooking than Clara is, but that’s not saying a lot. Both of them are pretty useless in the kitchen. They may or may not rely on Tess for baked goods and their moms for actual food. Alex is probably trying to work on his cooking skills now they they have babies, but between vet school, two jobs, and trying to make sure that Clara isn’t stuck in bed, it’s not going so well.
who’s a sucker for matching couple things
Neither one of them will actively admit to being the couple that wears matching things, but you’d be wrong if they didn’t wear couples costumes for Halloween. And they may or may not have some matching Christmas jumpers.
who’s more likely to give the silent treatment when they’re upset
Clara. Alex will go let off steam somewhere, and be ready to come back and talk things out. Clara isn’t great about talking about her feelings though; she’s shown on more than one occasion that she allows issues to affect her personally, and she is far more likely to run away or ignore her problems.
who picks the obnoxious tracks (rainbow road) on mario kart
Clara, for sure. Her favorite is Bowser’s Castle and she rarely gets to pick the courses because she’s likely to put together a list of all the most obnoxious ones.
who’s more likely to go on a health food kick
Their response to this is “What’s a health food?”
who has better “puppy dog eyes”
Alex. How could he not with that stupid Huckleberry face he’s got going on? Besides, he’s around dogs all the time so he’s got a good frame of reference to really make it work.
who’s better at being a functional adult
Alex. He’s juggling school, work, babies, and a relationship, among the general ups and downs of life. Clara is currently not doing so hot at the most minimal of tasks. It’s definitely not her fault, but her lack of ability to be anything close to productive is taking its toll on her.
who’s more introverted and who’s more extroverted
Clara is more extroverted, Alex is more introverted. Neither one of them have issues talking to people or making friends, but Clara thrives in social situations, while Alex would rather just hang out with their small group of friends.
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[Text]: There's something more to you. (Vivlen)
[Text]: You would think, but what you see is what you get with me.
[Text]: I’m an open book. I mean, I literally use my entire life as “How to” fodder. People I’ve never met know how much I masturbate, down to the exact toys that I use and the time it takes me to orgasm.
[Text]: Nothing more to see here.
#cause of chaos#sweet as whole#//what if I changed all of my tags to things I could remember??#//wouldn't that be wild??#ravenswoodofrp#answered
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[Text]: I ain't wearing nothing. (Sweetrox)
[Text]: Really wish I was hearin’ those words because you found a new love of sexting and not because you spilled corrosive chemicals on you during vet school.
[Text]: Are we SURE that this school is accredited and ain’t just trying to “accidentally” murder you so they can use your body as a science experiment?
[Text]: I’m bringin’ you your chaps, boots, and spurs. Put on a lab coat so you can flash me when I get there. I need a little thrill in my day 🥼 🍆 👀
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[Text]: I don't like myself right now. (Dorito)
[Text]: I don’t like you much right now either! I can’t believe you had honest-to-god REAL ramen and you did it without me.
[Text]: You’ve wounded me, Lake! I was supposed to be there with you when you took that first bite so I could see the look on your face as you melted into a pile of mush at how good it is!
[Text]: It was good... right?
[Text]: You might never be able to go back to Timberlake ramen and Kraft singles, and I’m sorry I ruined that for you, but I’m also not? It’s okay that you wasted your entire youth eating a sham because now you can make up for lost time.
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4 (Cora)
4. Who did they look up to the most as a child? Who do they look up to as an adult?
Cora would love to say that as a child she looked up to her brother the most, but that’s simply not true. There’s an eight year difference between the two of them and Cora was adopted when she was two, so Myles was mostly just a brat to her as a kid.
Honestly, Cora probably looked up to Barbie the most as a kid. Her childhood was full of Barbie movie releases. By the time she was 13, there had been twenty-one Barbie movies and a handful of Barbie PC games. Cora thought that Barbie was her best friend and loved how many different adventures and jobs Barbie got to have. The various movies staring Barbie in dancing roles only helped to fuel her dreams to become a dancer.
As an adult, Cora isn’t sure that she necessarily looks up to anyone in particular. One person that has a lot of her respect is her therapist, who has always lets Cora move at her own pace with healing and has never tried to force her to act as though she’s okay. He’s always been open with her about his own past and just generally makes Cora have hope for herself for the future.
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[Text]: I broke a couple of hearts. (Vivlen)
[Text]: I pegged you as a heart breaker the first time I ever saw you. You are far too beautiful to not have a trail of people crushed in your wake.
[Text]: I know you’ll never break my heart though. We were meant to be together. We might have only met last week but we’re, like, soulmates.
[Text]: Lenny and Viv Jr are gonna need both of their moms to raise them, you know.
[Text]: And don’t forget about Figgy Fig, our love fern.
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[Text]: Have you been crying again? (Sweetrox)
[Text]: Does it matter if I have been? I can’t help it and…
[Text]: I feel so useless, Alex.
[Text]: What’s wrong with me?
[Text]: We just had two babies and I love them so much, but I feel like I don’t have that right. And it’s so hard to do anything.
[Text]: I’m going to see if Tess and Barnabas want to babysit, okay? I’m just… really tired.
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[Text]: You're not just a pretty face. (Handyswan)
[Text]: Excuse you? I am so just a pretty face and it’s offensive that you think there’s more to me.
[Text]: Sure, I’m charming and funny and smart and full of secrets of the universe. But do you think that would get me anywhere if I didn’t have this particular fleshbag? When I get my alien memories back, I gotta be sure to thank whoever designed this body because they KILLED IT.
[Text]: Also…
[Text]: YOU THINK I’M PRETTY?
[Manny De La took a screenshot of chat]
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[Text]: I made a few mistakes. (Sweetrox)
[Text]: You gave glitter, glue, and markers to our two year olds. I’d say mistake isn’t the right word. Lapse in judgement seems more accurate.
[Text]: I can’t say that I wanted my kitchen wall to be decorated with blue and orange glitter. Wasn’t really the design motif I was going for, Huckleberry.
[Text]: Though, to be fair, they are already better artists than you. Not that that’s saying a lot.
[Text]: What if I did a Mommy & Me gallery? Have them pick what I draw and then have them try to recreate it. Hang them all together, maybe hold some family art sessions for the public.
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