life is a box of crayons.

P: WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE LOOK FOR IN A PARTNER? LOOKS / PERSONALITY?

Trust is the number one thing. Pascal isn’t someone that just gives their heart away. They’re quite suspicious of people, and have to see through actions overtime that they’re worthy of letting in. They have to be interesting — they don’t enjoy small talk in the least, and could never be in a relationship with someone that was too chatty or expected them to be. Dating Pascal would lead to a lot of silence, and they would need someone who could sit in that comfortably. As for looks, they have very little preference. (Though pretty eyes are certainly nice.) Their interest tends to lean more towards girls, because, well… have you seen girls? But they are pan and when they think of their future person, there is no gender attached to that image. It wouldn’t matter to them if their partner was affectionate, but they would have to be okay with them being super lovey dovey. Preferably artsy. And while they don’t relate to it, excitable is fine as long as they can have chill moments, too.

A: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE SHOW AFFECTION?

Think of the cuddliest teddy bear in the world, then multiply that by three. Even if it’s strictly platonic, they’re a forehead kissing, back rubbing, hair playing, head leaning, skin tracing, long hugging type of person.

S: DID YOUR MUSE HAVE A CHILDHOOD SWEETHEART?

A few long lost loves.

C: DOES YOUR MUSE LIKE CHOCOLATE? WHICH ONE IS THEIR FAVORITE?

They’re not a huge fan of sweets, but they’d rarely turn down a Dove candy bar.

L: WHO DOES YOUR MUSE LOVE?

K: IS YOUR MUSE A GOOD KISSER? WHY OR WHY NOT?

Stitch: its like one day we have answers to one thing then like twenty more questions pop up. its amazing

Stitch: Oh. okay. must have typed in the wrong number

Pascal: Exciting, unnerving. Two sides of the same coin.

“You know how I feel about being this sad –– I just feel like I don’t have to process things normally, like others could. I feel like I’m under a microscope,” she said, her heart lurching for something more than this life that she’s in. Yes, she’s content and happy, but she wonders what else could be waiting. A new adventure every day is something she yearns for but this existential break up shouldn’t mean as much as it does but she feels like her partner is just missing. Pascal though, pascal was more than her partner. They were the one person she depended on, they know her –– better than anyone and times she wondered the weight they bared with that as well. Looking up at them, she pushed some strands of hair from her face, taking the time to actually think but the answer was simple. “No, of course not. I… I’ll never be okay with it. I know he has to find himself but that’s something I thought I was helping, not making it worse. Apparently I put him so high, it wasn’t fair,” she scoffed, palming the sockets of her eyes, giving a petty laugh. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “This was supposed to be our night but again,” she leaned back on the couch, “I made it about me.” She didn’t know how to deal with these kind of emotions, this needed to stop happening, she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. “You still want to pop balloons filled with paint?”

It wasn’t fair. Pascal understood that much, though they didn’t have to live it. They flew under the radar. Even leaving the house dressed as a walking rainbow, they had no trouble getting by without being noticed. Rapunzel didn’t have that luxury. Everywhere she went, someone knew her name, saw a familiar face. Through no fault of her own. She was lucky, that was what they would say. And maybe that was true to an extent. But how lucky was it to be recognized for the worst thing that had ever happened to you? “You’re safe here,” they reminded her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Their little home was a judgement free zone. She could always come to them for a place to hide, to be completely herself without making headlines. It wasn’t much. It was all they could offer. “Sometimes people get scared,” they thought aloud, “and they push people away because they fear losing them.” It was backwards. It made no sense. Pascal had never understood the way other people thrived. But they seen it. “You could never make anything worse.” They were biased, yes. It didn’t matter. She was the epitome of love and loyalty, and that could never make anything worse. “No apologies,” they interjected. Their tone was strict, but their smile was warm. They refused to accept an apology for the way she felt. Emotion was something that couldn’t be controlled, and she was allowed to make it about her. To them, it was always about her. “Absolutely.” As an afterthought, they added: “We can throw knives if you have some secret anger to get out.”

“oh.” sil peeped, “well guess it’s a good thing for you then. you’re intentional with plans you make..” she wasn’t sure how respond when in such a mood as she was when she noticed the other’s doodle, “that’s pretty good. do you draw often?”

“Thank you. Some.” Pascal appreciated art, but they were more into abstract colorful pieces than realistic sketches. Their pencil decided to move on its own today. “My best friend is much better,” they added fondly.

[ text; ??? ]

to whom this text may concern,

i seem to’ve locjed myself out of my apartment and had one too many celebrTory beveroages ti find climbing to be a safe alternativef. i f uou wouzln’tn mind aacompanying me on a journey round town til i’m sober enoughe to solve this problem i woukd greatly appreciate it

😸🐾

[/sent]

“Thank you again for playing with me.” Boo said to them. “I really appreciate it.”

It made them a little sad she would thank them for their attention. “Anytime,” they said with a sincere smile.

His grin widened. “Gracias.” He thanked with a nod. It wasn’t difficult for him to come up with his own alebrije because he already had one in mind for a long time now. For as long as he’s known Dante even, but Miguel did appreciate that Pascal seemed to like it. Reaching for his pencil, he began to sketch. “It’s one that I found myself attached to for quite some time now” He admitted.

They nodded in return, a silent you’re welcome. “This is going to keep me up at night,” they joked. They would be up at night anyway. But it would give them something interesting to mull over as they sat on the roof, sipping their tea and staring at the city lights.

   jack found himself reaching to pull his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. he had the feeling that he was going to need a lot of coffee tomorrow. after all he knew he couldn’t try to get more sleep. that was why he was always envious on some level of those that could actually get some shut eye. he nodded as he glanced around the woods before looking back at them,“ it is relaxing,” he agreed,“ that’s probably why i come out here like i do.” it wasn’t a widely known fact that he liked to frequent the woods late at night.

“People are often afraid of the dark, alone,” they thought aloud, looking around them. There was such a peaceful sound --- the mixture of crickets chirping, distant traffic and a gentle breeze. Sounds that were art, beautiful enough to paint a picture even with closed eyes. “I find it to be the safest.” The city slept, and those that didn’t could not hurt a person they couldn’t see. Pascal didn't get it --- they had never been like most people.

Stitch: Pascal? .... hey sorry I'm coming up blank on the name.

Stitch: do I have you for a class?

Pascal: Indeed, it is. There will never be an answer to all questions. For every proven thing, we will find triple the amount to wonder about.