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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years

Text

nobody likes a claggy bit of cheese

this idea came to me in mid november while i was watching an episode of the great british bakeoff and crocheting a scarf for my sister while eating a very very healthy college lunch of apple sauce and caramel corn. someone (maybe it was paul) said the word “claggy” and i was like Wow That’s British. and then someone else (probably paul again) said “stodgy” and i was like WoW ThAts BriTisH. and then i was like you know who would appreciate these Very British Words?? my dumb friend who likes to pretend he's british. and thEn i was like Oh Shit what if he hosted great british bakeoff that would be energy oh my god. and i was About to text him that when i was like No Wait! instead of a baking competition it would be a Mac And Cheese competition because that's like,,,his wholes pride and joy. and then i was about to text him that but then i was like wAIT! this has fic written all over it oh my god i can see it now. and now here we are.

also mikey in case you didn't realize, you are my dumb fake british friend and this is your present but i mean its more of your persona slapped on race and i called it a day. its not a mothman shirt but it'll have to do eye guess

anywaymst

enjoy this trash pile

_________

ship: eye guess its platonic ralbert

genre: pure ass crack

warnings: uhmmm, race is an idiot, poorly written british accents, paul hollywood stare, uhhh, albert is Annoyed, jack is an idiot who makes bad mac, spot get Angryyy, idk im writing there before the fic is finished, katherine definitely knows the mafia

editing: lol that's funny

words: enough to fill a few pages but not enough to bore you to death like the metamorphosis

_________

“CHEESE!”

Blankets tornadoed around the room as Race jumped off the bed in a half awake sleepy haze, barely landing on his feet in a fight stance, wielding his phone like a weapon in front of him. He glared into the dark corners (not that he could even tell where the corners were considering that it was pitch dark) of the room before stumbling out into the hallway, muttering madly about cheese.

“Cheese...blue cheese…..string cheese…...mozzarella cheese….” Race barely heard his own half-mad whispers as he opened all the cabinets, rummaging around in the same matter a hurricane floods a basement, in a mad search for pasta. When he came up empty handed he scowled, sat himself up on the counter and yelled for the next best thing:

“ALLLLLLLBBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRT!”

CRASH! That would be Albert falling out of bed. Race kicked his feet against the cabinet impatiently.

WHOOSH! SLAM! And there was Albert’s door opening and closing at an alarming speed.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The pictures in the living room began to shake, announcing his arrival.

“Race?! What’s going on? Are you okay??” And there was Albert, sliding into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of socks and boxers (despite the fact that it was probably 3 degrees out), weilding a single black converse high top. Race wasn’t quite sure how the shoe was supposed to help him, but he decided to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Albert’s weird antics when there was a legitimate crisis at hand.

“Race…?” Albert asked again, slowly lowering his shoe. “Is everything-” “We’re out of pasta.”

“We’re- what?” The shoe Albert had been holding banged to the floor. “You’re telling me that you woke me up at” he peered at the oven clock over Race’s shoulder, “three fifteen am to tell me that we’re out of pasta?”

“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Race slammed his head into the cabinet behind him. “Now I can’t make mac and cheese!” “W h y do you want to make mac and fucking cheese at three fifteen in the goddamn morning?!”

“BECAUSE ALBERT-” Race jumped down off the counter, “-I had a dream. A dream where I was competing on The Great British Bakeoff and I made my Famous mac and cheese. And Paul Hollywood, the man, the legend h i m s e l f, tasted my humble mac and said ‘Race. That is amazing.’ And gave me a handshake! And I was so honored that I awoke hungry for the wonderful, delicious, creamy taste of mac and cheese. So I wander into the kitchen and what do I find? A fridge full of cheese, but no pasta to be found!” He stepped closer to Albert, planting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “This is an emergency!”

Albert swatted away Race’s hand and rubbed his eyes, already turning back toward his room. “If Paul Hollywood deemed your mac and cheese so amazing then just hold a competition of your own and make other people make mac and cheese for you. That way I don’t have to go to Walgreens at three thirty.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t make us lose our security deposit.”

Race stood in stunned silence as Albert disappeared down the hall and his door closed.

“That sleep deprived idiot might actually be onto something,” he muttered, launching himself onto one of the bar stools and opening his laptop. He had work to do.

•••

“You know, when I told you to host your own mac and cheese competition I thought I dreamt that entire encounter, and, now that I realize that I definitely didn’t, I especially didn't expect you to make me host it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to make me wear this dumb costume.” He tugged uncomfortably at the dark blazer and black wig.

“Oi mate, if you’re gonna be Sue yew gotta start actin like ‘er!” Race glared.

“But Race-”

“Thas Paul Hollywood to you. I don want none uh this ‘Race’ business,” he crossed his arms and gave Al his best Steely Eyed, Paul Hollywood Glare.

Albert just rolled his eyes and stomped off.

Race sighed happily as he turned to survey the tent in front of him. He had called Katherine last night after his missing pasta crisis and asked if he could use her Dad’s Hampton’s estate to host a mock version of the Great British Bakeoff but for mac and cheese. Katherine, like any good rebellious daughter, had loved the idea and called several of her “contacts” that apparently “owed her favors.” (Race didn’t understand the life of rich people, it seemed very extravagant and two-faced) And that was how Race had come to be standing in a tent with what could very well be the set up of the Great British Bakeoff laid out in front of him with he himself dressed in his very best blue button down and jeans, a spitting image of Paul Hollywood. Well, maybe Paul Hollywood 30 years ago.

His friends that he had invited on to be the contestants of the show were setting up at their stations. There was Jack, Davey, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Finch, Buttons, Specs, JoJo, Spot, Crutchie, and Smalls. Katherine had opted not to participate and instead film everyone to make it seem more like the actual show.

Someone (probably Katherine) had forced Albert to stand next to him to announce the signature challenge that they had prepared.

“Alright bakers-”

Race shot him a side glance.

“-er, mac and cheese cookers?” he tried to amend. “Today Ra-uh, Paul would like you to make a nice, hefty batch of mac and cheese. You may use whatever ingredients you would like, but he would like it to be cheesy, delicious, and contain pasta. You have 45 minutes.” Race could practically hear the sigh in his voice. “On your marks, get set, ba-cOOK!”

Finally, Race thought as his friends scrambled around their respective stations, I’m going to get some good mac.

•••

It was becoming very clear very quickly that Race may not actually be getting any good mac.

He wandered from station to station, Albert following begrudgingly behind him, progressively becoming more and more disappointed in each and every one of his friends. Didn’t any of them know how to cook?

“Roight Jack.” He leaned on the one empty scrap of counter in front of him. “What are yew makin?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jack - well he assumed it was Jack, he couldn’t really be sure with all the flour flying everywhere - ran around his workspace, which was crowded with every ingredient imaginable, from shredded cheese to, was that maple syrup?

“Jack for the sake of the show yew gotta tell us what yew’re makin.” Jack must not have the braincell today.

From somewhere in the flour cloud a timer went off. Jack yelped and dropped what sounded like several pots with an amazingly loud clatter.

“If you really must know - ouch!! - I’m making - god fUCK! - baked mac and cheese with a - SHIT! - crispy top.”

“Alright well,” Albert dodged a flying blob of flaming cheese, “we’ll leave you to it. Hopefully we get to actually eat something edible.”

“Good luck,” Race turned away from Jack’s workstation and leaned towards Albert as they made their way to Mush’s station. “Do we ave a foire extinguishah here?”

“I think so?”

“Good cause we moight need it.” Albert looked at him knowingly for a long minute before the two of them snapped out of it and approached Mush.

“So Mush,” Race said, taking in the polar opposite of the mess of a station that had been Jack’s, “what ave yew got for us?”

Mush smiled, looking up from the block of cheese that he had been grating. “Today I’m going to be making my signature mac and cheese with three kinds of cheese.”

Race let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally something that sounded edible!

“Is that pleasing enough for you, Your Highness?” Mush winked mischievously and Albert giggled.

Race straightened up, checking his mouth for drool (there was none). “Yes, oim looking forward tew it.” He watched as the cheese mush was grating flaked satisfyingly into the bowl, his mouth watering at the very sight and thought of cheese. Oh cheese. Beautiful, rich, delicious cheese. “Oi would like tew sample some cheese if yew don't mind.”

Mush straightened up, putting his hands around his cheese protectively. “And I want someone to slap me so hard my eyes fall out. We can’t all get what we want, Susan B. Anthony.”

“Hollywood, moi name is Paul Hollywood.” Race glared at Mush, horrified that he would decline him the judge a cheese sample! Paul Hollywood always got ingredient samples when he asked for them! Maybe he should have put more effort into his hair today…

“I know very well who you are,” Mush went back to grating his cheese. It was as if he were mocking Race with every bit of shredded goodness that fell onto the glorious cheese mountain.

“I do believe you’ve upset Mr. Hollywood.” Albert smirked. Of course he had to join in on the make-Race-feel-like-hes-being-mocked party.

“I don’t particularly care about Mr. Hollywood’s feelings,” Mush put down the grater and reached under his counter for a pan. “What I do care about is the fate of my mac and cheese so,” he stared at the two of them, deadpan , “be gone Thots.”

“But-”

“I SAID BE GONE THOTS!” Mush pointed a wooden spoon at the two of them menacingly and Race half expected sparks to shoot out of the end like some kind of sorcery bullshit, but all he got was a cloud of flour to the face and twelve sets of confused eyes looking at him.

“Uhh,” he mustered every ounce of Paul Hollywood that he could, “thank yew Mush.” Quickly he turned away, brushing the flour out of his sharpied on beard and mustache while Albert stifled laughter next to him. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“But that was-”

“Oi said shut- oh hoi Smalls!” He tried desperately to regain his composure as they approached the final station.

“Gucci Prada my fuckin clown wig I- oh, uh, hi!” Smalls quickly put the spatula that she had been holding behind her back.

“What are yew makin for uh today?” Race took in Smalls’s station. There was a wide array of cheese on the counter, we well as spices and breadcrumbs and pasta. But something seemed...different.

Smalls looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the carpet.. “I’m making gluten free baked mac and cheese.”

“Why gluten free?”

“Because,” Smalls glanced behind her briefly before hissing, “because that was the only kind of pasta I could find in my cabinet that's why you feet fucker.”

Race’s toes tingled with happiness. He do it! He could say the trademark Paul Hollywood meme thing!

“Now, when yew make mac and cheese gluten free it tends to get stickey and lose some of its taiste. Ave yew tested this to make sure that wont appen?”

“Y e s,” Smalls rolled her eyes. “I put extra oil in it so the pasta wont get sticky a n d there’s lots of spices for added flavor.” She brought her spatula out from behind her back in a soldiers salute. “I won’t disappoint you, your Highness Mr. Paul Hollywwod Sir.”

“Yew bettah not,” Race laughed as he walked back to his very official looking director’s chair (he didn’t want to know how many people Katherine had had to kill to get this).

“Sue, how much toime is left?”

“TEN MINUTES COOKERS, TEN MINUTES!”

There were varying screams of frustration from around the room as his friends scrambled to get done. The smell of cooking cheese wafted from several ovens and stoves and Race smiled contentedly. Twas almost Mac Time.

•••

Ten minutes later, as promised, Race was standing behind a Very Official looking wooden table with a fork and a glass of water, ready to taste (or spit out, depending on whose it was), his friends’ mac and cheese.

“Oilright, Davey, why don’t yew bring up yewr mac.”

Davey strode up to the table confidently, somehow without a spec of food on his apron, and placed down a plate of gooey looking pasta. Man oh man he was excited! But no, today he was Paul Hollywood. No excitement. Only glares.

He picked up his fork and took a scoop of pasta, glaring at Davey for good measure as he tasted.

He chewed for far longer than actually necessary to give Davey just enough time to get nervous before giving his verdict. “Whot yew’ve actually done is quite noice, Oi rather loike the blend of the cheddar and the goat cheese, but what yew’ve done is create something that’s so soft that its lacking textah. It’s loike Oi need somethin crunchy to offset it.”

Davey nodded. “Okay.”

“But overall noice job.” He nodded, the silent cue for Davey to take his dish and return to his station.

Race surveyed the contestants and grimaced. “Jack bring yew’re flamin bomb up here.”

He thought he heard Jack mutter some half-decent curses under his breath, but not decent enough for him to repeat.

A few seconds later a lump of orange stuff with green (???) blobs on top on a plate was placed in front of him. “Roight,” he sighed. “What ave yew got there?”

“Well this is my baked mac and cheese with green goldfish topping!” Jack said proudly.

Race looked at the plate as if it were a flesh eating disease that could kill him at any second. And, knowing Jack’s track record with food, it just might. “Any reason why you chose green goldfish?”

“Adds a pop of color!” Jack bounced on his toes.

Good gosh. Race took the tiniest bite possible on his fork and lifted it to his mouth-

“Make sure you get a goldfish!” Jack insisted. “Really adds a burst of flavor!”

“Oh sure, sure.” Race picked one up before shoving the whole abomination into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing down as best as he could.

“Wow that is pitiful,” Race coughed. “The pasta is overcooked, and the cheese, yew’ve cooked it too much so that it’s become gummy, and all the moistah has gone into the goldfish and made them soggy.”

“Oh,” Jack sounded deflated.

“Overall the textah is a bit claggy, and no one loikes a claggy bit of cheese.”

“Right, right.” Jack stroked his invisible beard.

“Overall its dreadful and Oi’d loike it if you removed it from my sights, preferably to the bin. Next!”

•••

Almost a half hour later Race was practically done testing all of the mac and cheese, save for Mush’s and Smalls’s. Along with Jack’s trashpile, Spot’s had also been notably horrible, it was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time? Race didn’t even want to know. Crutchie’s and JoJo’s though had been surprisingly decent, and both were in the running to win.

“Oilroight Smalls, bring up yewr mac why don’t yew.”

A few moments later a plate of mac and cheese was dumped in front of Race with no class whatsoever. “Here you go Mr. Paul Sir.”

Race stabbed his fork into the pile of noodles. “This was the gluten free baked mac and cheese, roight?” “Yes your highness.”

Race rolled the noodles around on his tongue for a few long moments while his taste buds analyzed the flavor combinations.

“Roight so, I warned yew about this bein tasteless roight?” Smalls quirked up her eyebrow. “It’s tasteless isn’t it.”

“Yes. Get it away from me at once.”

“Of course, your lordship.” Smalls snatched the plate from the table, even curtsying to Race before making her way back to her station, picking up a fork, and digging into her own mac and cheese.

“I don't know what you’re talking about Mister Colonel Hollywood Sir, this tastes great!”

Race bushed imaginary crumbs off of his table. “And Oi’m goin tew pretend Oi didn’t hear that.” He pointed to Mush. “Mush, bring up yewr creation, if yew pleathe.”

“But of course!” Mush placed down his plate of mac and cheese in front of Race, who dug in immediately. “What you have there is parmesan, cheddar, and american cheese with elbow pasta. Enjoy.”

Race let the glorious noodles glide over his tongue as his palate was enveloped in a wonderful cheese flavor. He was amazed. He was astounded. Hell he was even speechless! What did Paul Hollywood do when he was speechless? Oh right!

“Well done Mush,” he stuck out his hand for the famous Paul Hollywood Handshake. “That’s a really great plate you’ve made.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Mush smiled joyfully as Albert tried to sneak a bite of the mac and cheese. Race swatted his hand away with his other hand.

“In fact, it’s the best that Oi’ve had today, and Oi announce yew as Star Cooker!”

The room erupted into cheers and everyone ran to hug Mush while Race quickly finished his mac and cheese. His plan had worked perfectly. The next time he was out of pasta at three am he knew exactly who to call.

•••

“Hello? Do you need help burying the body?” A tired voice answered the phone.

“Mush, it’s Race. I’m craving mac and cheese and I don't have any pasta. Can you-”

“NO!”

_________

so how bout that huh

anyway sappy boi hours heh i love mikey and im real happy that were friends cause he's the absolute best and i cant wait to meet him next week eeee

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

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#saphie scribbles #newsies #newsies fic #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #this is not a christmas fit its just a christmas present #*fic #heh #luv you my milky tot #;)#grandpapi #papi #suburban papi #oatmeal aesthetic dad #daddy #cricket feet #u make my feet tingle with happiness #SIX DAYS MAN

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warfear · 4 years

Note

✩ puli

* groans loudly *

DISAGREEMENTS

WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO RAISE THEIR VOICE? obviously miss poop. juli hasn’t raised his voice in his life… that’s no joke. can really only recall ONE fight he’s ever had with somebody. like, emotionally. he’s always fighting for the laffs. WHO THREATENS TO LEAVE BUT NEVER ACTUALLY DOES? pippa again. she’d be way too obsessed with the last word, and you know him… never shuts the fuck up. they’d be going back and forth all night. WHO ACTUALLY KEEPS THEIR WORD AND LEAVES? julian. he’s not really a towel thrower but like, when a man has had enough... WHO TRASHES THE HOUSE? pippa would throw a hissy fit and break multiple vases. those were expensive bitch. you better venmo his mommy right now. DO EITHER OF THEM GET PHYSICAL? she might slap him. maybe. does she have the balls? somebody’s got to. HOW OFTEN DO THEY ARGUE/DISAGREE? every god damn day. over everything. agreeing is for SUCKERS. WHO IS THE FIRST TO APOLOGISE? julian. obviously. he’s doing it right now in our thread that you refuse to reply to.

SEX

WHO IS ON TOP? i don’t think pippa likes to get down and dirty in missionary soooo… ya make a wild guess. WHO IS ON THE BOTTOM? * ladybird vc * who’s on top their first time?! WHO HAS THE STRANGEST DESIRES? pippa. she fucked her babysitter slash principal. that was mad weird. funny how juli knows about that and STILL choose to knock boots. he must be confident in her weekly planned parenthood check - ups. ANY KINKS? enthusiastic consent on his part. duh. pippa seems to be VERY into pegging. sounds like she fetishizes homosexual men to me. larry much? big yikes. WHO’S MORE DOMINANT IN BED? we like a girl who knows what she wants. no, genuinely… he does. it’s hot. IS HEAD EVER IN THE EQUATION? juli be eating that wap like its a five course meal followed up by a midnight snack. she slobbers on that dick like its a popsicle stick.If so, who is better at performing it? her, definitely. he’s only really fucked a handful of people, and that includes her. let a boy practice, damn. EVER HAD SEX IN PUBLIC? do parties count as public? if no, then they better get to it. Who moans the most? for juli’s sake, i hope pippa. or else we might be dealing with a case of deflation. WHO LEAVES THE MOST MARKS? pippa seems like she gets into it, so i’ll go with her. Who screams the loudest? i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again... WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SCREAMING AND MOANING? WHO IS THE MORE EXPERIENCED OF THE TWO? as established, it’s pipperoo. DO THEY ‘FUCK’ OR ‘MAKE LOVE’? they fuck. plain and simple. maybe when he’s popped that bun in the oven we can get to talking about slowing our roll (no pun intended. just kidding, it was intentional) ROUGH OR SOFT? well, it’s not rough but it’s not soft, either. ya dig? a neat little mixture of both. he’s not a bdsm god, okay. we can’t ALL be randy. but i do wish we could. HOW LONG DO THEY USUALLY LAST? now, i won’t act as if he can go all night in terms of dicking her down… HOWEVER, he don’t give up and if we gotta put our other limbs to use (just fingers, dudes, don’t get any ideas), then so be it. is the tongue a limb? hm. IS PROTECTION USED? with his sperm count? naw. DOES IT EVER GET BORING? probably, they’re depressed.Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? this universe.

FAMILY

DO YOUR MUSES PLAN ON HAVING CHILDREN/OR HAVE CHILDREN? they do not plan on that shit, alright. but if shit hits the fan and a little gremlin starts growing inside the gremlin (let her have some water, did we?), then i guess. just know it wasn’t premeditated. IF SO, HOW MANY CHILDREN DO YOUR MUSES WANT/HAVE? just the one, thanks. WHO IS THE FAVORITE PARENT? say it’s NOT the apocalypse, then pippa. she would spoil that little brat until it turned into a mini - her. but other than that, juli’s good with kids. THEY LIKE HIM. let me have this. WHO IS THE MORE AUTHORIATIVE PARENT? i feel like juli would be able to handle the everyday stuff of like, “don’t eat glue”. but pippa would be the one snapping, for sure. WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THE CHILDREN TO HAVE A DAY OFF SCHOOL? pippa. juli values education, okay? he’s a little steven crain, why yes he is. WHO LETS THE CHILDREN INDULGE IN SWEETS AND JUNK FOOD WHEN THE OTHER ISN’T AROUND? juli. pippa might be a druggie trainwreck but i don’t see her eating hot cheetos for lunch, nah… that’s juli! WHO TURNS UP TO EXTRA CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES TO SUPPORT THEIR CHILDREN? juli shows up for the everyday. pippa the games / performances. you think she’s gonna miss her chance at being regina george’s mom? no. WHO GOES TO THE PARENT TEACHER INTERVIEWS? pippa forgets them and that leaves daddy julian apolskis with the hot teachers. thank you, poop. WHO CHANGES THE DIAPERS? julian. no further commentary. WHO GETS UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT TO FEED THE BABY? see above. somebody’s a LAZY bitch… WHO SPENDS THE MOST TIME WITH THE CHILDREN? i mean, i don’t wanna repeat myself but. WHO PACKS THEIR LUNCHES? naw, that’s a lunch money kid right there. WHO GIVES THEIR CHILDREN ‘THE TALK’? neither, they’d call juli’s mommy or kitty for that shit. WHO CLEANS UP AFTER THE KIDS? think pippa would hire a maid, honestly. juli’s not very organised and pippa’s, well… pippa. WHO WORRIES THE MOST? julian, for cheesy. WHO ARE THE CHILDREN MORE LIKELY TO LEARN THEIR FIRST SWEAR WORD FROM? oh, that’s a tie. they’d argue about who done did it… you know, like the potty mouths they are. but it’d end up being kitty.

AFFECTION

WHO LIKES TO CUDDLE? julian loves himself a little cuddle sesh. why, is she not down? boo. WHO IS THE LITTLE SPOON? both, what the fuck. * ariana grande vc * IT’S EQUALITY. WHO GETS NAUGHTY IN THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE PLACES? pippa. like you really wanna be getting down and dirty in the diaper aisle of wholefood? get ya damn hand off his non - existent buttocks. WHO STRUGGLES TO KEEP THEIR HANDS TO THEMSELF? yeah, see above. HOW LONG CAN THEY CUDDLE UNTIL ONE BECOMES UNCOMFORTABLE? like 3 minutes for her. he can go all night, baby. WHO GIVES THE MOST KISSES? probably juli. HE’S AFFECTIONATE. WHAT IS THEIR FAVOURITE NON-SEXUAL ACTIVITY? bitching with blunts. WHERE IS THEIR FAVOURITE PLACE TO CUDDLE? uh, a BED? WHO IS MORE LIKELY TO PLAYFULLY GROPE THE OTHER? did you not read ANYTHING i said? HOW OFTEN DO THEY GET TIME TO THEMSELVES? i feel like they both demand a lot of me - time, and honestly i don’t see them simply existing in quietude next to each other, so… often.

SLEEPING

WHO SNORES? pippa like the wee pug she is. IF BOTH DO, WHO SNORES THE LOUDEST? she do, bitch. DO THEY SHARE A BED OR SLEEP SEPARATELY? who are they, bandy? they don’t live together but i’d ASSUME if they fucked and it went past midnight neither would just dip, that’s dumb. IF THEY SLEEP TOGETHER, DO THEY COZY UP TOGETHER OR LAY FAR APART? we start far, far away and we end up a wee bit cozy. WHO TALKS IN THEIR SLEEP? neither. that’s some tom behaviour. WHAT DO THEY WEAR TO BED? juli’s just a boxers type guy, add a t - shirt for winter. and i’m guessing she has some cutesy pajamas that are like pink… and silk. ARE EITHER OF YOUR MUSES INSOMNIACS? juli could sleep a year. but he could also stay up a year. it’s a toss - up. i think pippa has a noise machine and a sleep mask, so. CAN SLEEPING PILLS BE FOUND BY THE BEDSIDE? yes. and we pop those for fun. DO THEY WRAP THEIR LIMBS AROUND EACH OTHER OR JUST LAY SIDE BY SIDE? both. although the former is ACCIDENTAL. Who wakes up with bed hair? juli, for sure. have you seen his hair? he ain’t brush that. Who wakes up first? fucking neither. they sleep until noon and THEN SOME. Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? juli can’t cook but if she wants a poptart… baby, he’s your man. What is their favourite sleeping position? probably like… him on his back, arm stretched out for her to use as a pillow and then she sleeps with her back towards him. what, is he not CUTE enough to face? Who hogs the sheets? pippa. greedy as hell. Do they set an alarm each night? neither, lols. Can a television be found in their bedroom? juli has one in his bedroom, but pippa might be too poor to afford that, so. Who has nightmares? i don’t think either do. then again, i don’t edward cullen pippa every night. Who has ridiculous dreams? probably juli. they’d be incoherent and she’d be like “shut up it’s 7 am i do not wanna hear about your homoerotic dreams about harrison ford.” Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? i feel like they are both sprawlers. Who makes the bed? neither, it just be looking like a HOT HOT mess at all times. What time is bed time? sunrise. Any routines/rituals before bed? more bitching with blunts. Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? my guess would be pippa. he’s not in a great mood but he’s also not in a bitchy mood. and she always is.

WORK

Who is the busiest? juli, seeing as he’s the only one with a job. freeloader much @ poopy. Who rakes in the highest income? somehow, despite not being unemployed, not juli. Are any of your muses unemployed? pippa and she’ll stay that way until the day she dies. ain’t got no skills, lady luv, what are you gonna do? onlyfans? yeah, you wish. Who takes the most sick days? pippa. from like, existing. Who is more likely to turn up late to work? juli because he doesn’t have a fucking car. who skates to work? losers, that’s who. Who sucks up to their boss? fucking NEITHER. when have these dumbos ever sucked up to anybody? What are their jobs? juli’s a clerk at the comic book store and pippa’s a professional slut. Who stresses the most? tew many blunts to be stressing, my dude. Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? julian actually likes his job. because comics are his PASSION. one and only aside from punk and being a little meanie. and who cares about pippa’s stance on unemployment? not me. Are your muses financially stable? juli, no. although he lives at home so it’s fine. pippa, yes.

HOME

Who does the washing? juli, reluctantly, after a lot of bitching from a miss espina. Who takes out the trash? he takes her out every friday night. haha, just kidding.jokes, jokes… but he does take out the trash. Who does the ironing? i think pippa hates wrinkly clothing HOWEVER she would burn holes in that shit and he’d have to do it anyway. Who does the cooking? it’s called take - out, baby. look it up and order me some red curry chicken from your nearest thai food place. Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? pippa, hence… them not doing that. the oven is purely decorative. Who is messier? pippa. somehow. Who leaves the toilet roll empty? also pippa because she does not respect her fellow man (julian) Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? that’s juli, alright. pippa would at least fill the hamper until it overflows. good for her. Who forgets to flush the toilet? NEITHER. get some help. Who is the prankster around the house? juli would probably do something very lighthearted and then she’d take it like eleven notches too far. Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? pippa be throwing those bitches halfway the antarctic, lemme tell you. then again he doesn’t even know how to drive, so… you win some, you lose some. Who mows the lawn? * TRIGGERED * Who answers the telephone? pippa would yell at juli to do it while she’s standing RIGHT THERE and then he’d be like yo, wtf and she’d be like omg my pedicure, though… yup. Who does the vacuuming? juli’s mommy. Who does the groceries? THEY DON’T COOK. Who takes the longest to shower? pippa. juli’s an in - and - out kinda guy. and i respect that more than i respect her for taking 45 minutes every time. Who spends the most time in the bathroom? see above.

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? no, but maybe it should be. then she wouldn’t be such a horrid little cunt, you know? too much? yeah, well… like queen lizzo once said, the truth hurts. How many cars do they own? i wanna say… one. Do they own their home or do they rent? um, owning a home is a huge commitment (and a baby simply isn’t, just leave it on the curb outside and you’ll be gucci within 30 minutes top) and they’re not committed to the cause. Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? bitch, city. but a city near the coast? ahah, seattle? Do they live in the city or in the country? fucking see above, damn. Do they enjoy their surroundings? sure, why not. sounds cute. What’s their song? wap, obviously. but also everybody talks by neon trees. don’t ask me for 80’s songs, i am brain dead. What do they do when they’re away from each other? rejoice. Where did they first meet? at a party, probably. How did they first meet? let’s just make it less awk and say through a mutual friend... Who spends the most money when out shopping? how is this even a question… obviously juli spends big bucks on nightwing comics that heavily feature dick’s thick behind. Who’s more likely to flash their assets? pippa should be robbed. Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? both. pippa would just more vocal about it. Any mental issues? * takes long drag of a cigarette * so anyway... Who’s terrified of bugs? pippa cries at the sight of butterflies. did i steal that from some toddler in the chat? yeah. Who kills the spiders around the house? jjuli would let it outside. like idiots who want the spider to come back in do. Their favourite place? probably some shitty make - out spot in the woods where you can smoke weed and bitch. Who pays the bills? juli would insist on paying half even if she could buy him. Do they have any fears for their future? ahah.... hunny… for that you’d have to expect a future. Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? juli. he’s a big softie, alright. Who uses up all of the hot water? well only one of them spends the whole day in the shower, so. Who’s the tallest? JULI, FOR ONCE. Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? that’s a pippa move if i’ve ever heard one. Who wanders around in their underwear? well, he’s not gonna be putting on any pants unless there’s company. Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? see, juli would jam out to some sick punk rock and she’d turn it off for madonna and then have HER moment but man, did you know he’ll just join? that’s kinda cute * barf * What do they tease each other about? their respective failures. Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? he looks like he got dressed in the dark. Do they have mutual friends? HAAAAAAAAA... Who crushed first? IF that were to ever be a thing, then juli for sure. Any alcohol or substance related problems? * loud breathing for 16 consecutive minutes * Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? both of them. maybe together.

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