You're superficial I'm a misfit

TWO TESTS WERE CANCELLED!

NO HOMEWORK!!

WE HAD A BREAK OF 30 MINUTES (we normally have a break of 5-10 min)

AND MY CRUSH ASKED ME TO WORK ON A PROJECT WITH HIM!!!

plot: our muses used to date and broke up for some reason. dee is working as a stunt double for a shoot your muse is on and keeps getting distracted for once by them - it ends up in a disaster.

It had been like this all day. Dee just couldn’t focus. For once his work hadn’t become the all consuming force it always did on set because… because he was there. In the past even when he’d see his ex on a set he was able to ignore him, not in a cold way but in a way to keep the unspoken thoughts shared between them to being mostly about work, but today? It felt like his whole heart was going to explode any time he so much as glanced at the other. It was a sickening and distracting feeling. One that had resulting in Dee seeming cold, and unable to focus on his stunts. He’d done this same stunt a hundred times for other shoots - falling backwards off a high ledge wasn’t the hardest thing to do for him despite the fear it might have caused most people - yet every time he’d done it today it hadn’t been right. He’d landed wrong. He’d stepped wrong. He’d done *something* wrong that had resulted in being yelled at by the director and his coordinator.

How he wished it had stayed at just yelling.

He was laying there, staring up at the sky, his ears ringing strangely and the yelling from before simply muffled sound. Why was everything spinning? What was going on? Dee slowly blinks, once, twice, a third time, before bringing his hand - unknown to him one which was covered in blood from the tumble he’d taken - to cover his mouth. What was going on?

The whole shoot so far had been tense in a way he couldn’t explain to anyone that asked why he wasn’t quite his usual smiling self. He had to just shrug it all off, telling them he was fine, just a bit tired. And then he saw the accident, and his heart sank.

Dee.

His feet were moving long before anyone else even realised quite what had happened, grabbing the medic kit on the way despite his panic. “Dee? Dee, don’t you dare close your eyes, you hear me?” he rushed out as he dropped to his knees next to him, trying to get a look at the situation before he dared move him, just in case he’d broken anything, “Come on, look at me... I need you to tell me where it hurts, or where it doesn’t. Please.”

Marathon: For reasons best left up to the cosmos, the muse has the uncontrollable urge to indulge in some ‘me time’ every half hour no matter where they are or what they’re doing for (anon decides). (Try not to get arrested!)

Sensitivity: All of the muse is their new erogenous zone, and clothing does not. help this. for the next (anon decides)

A sudden um…: For the next (anon decides) muse will suffer an impromptu orgasm every time (anon decides-breathing does not count) happens. It may be multiple things and it may utilize any sense, including time (IE every half hour)

The urge: Whether or not they were aware of it before, the muse now has a mating season and it’s open. For the next (anon decides) the muse will be driven crazy with the need to go forth and make babies or shag themselves exhausted trying.

A gift: Muse is tied up in a chair or a compromising position with a list of instructions detailing others to do (anon decides) sexual act(s) to them. Anyone who comes across them will be compelled to act out these instructions for (anon decides)

Irresistible: There’s just something about the muse today, and for (anon decides)…but no one they come across will be able to control themselves. No matter who they are or how they feel, they’ll be compelled to try to get some personal time with the muse. And it’s not for an interview.

It’s not the Midas touch: If the muse touches someone for the next (anon decides) that person will have a sudden (terribly timed) orgasm. Oops?

Owned: Either the muse owns another, or is owned by someone else for (anon decides) but they’ll both be compelled to take certain sexy advantage of that for as long as it lasts.

Absolute Obedience: Anything anyone asks the muse must do for (anon decides) but one catch - it must be sexual in nature. Oh…wait, no there’s two catches. Every time they issue a command they lose more control of themselves and can’t help asking more next time. Absolute power corrupts.

Four minutes: The world will end immediately if the muse doesn’t shag whoever they see for the next (anon decides). And that would just be terrible, wouldn’t it?

Impaired judgment: Booze, drugs, sex, they all blend together. The muse has had a bit too much of something and thinks everyone around them is prime sex estate for the next (anon decides). They’re not compelled to or any good at picking people up, they just think everyone’s really hot, you guys.

Sleeping Beauty: There’s only one way to wake the muse from their slumber (other than waiting for anon decides) and it’s not a kiss.

Frustration: The muse has a desperate need for relief for (anon decides) but no matter what they do it just won’t come without a little help from a friend. A person friend, not a plastic friend.

getting slightly too drunk in the middle of the afternoon and slow dancing to dumb cheesy old music and kissing in a way that’s more laughter than actual kissing, mouths clumsy and hands gripping tight and sunlight slanting over them as they move lazily together 

curling up on the sofa together, feet tucked under thighs and arms around shoulders, watch the kind of crap tv that only airs at 3am because they don’t want to go to untangle themselves to go to bed

hectic mornings when they each need to be somewhere and they’re rushing around each other, ducking into bathrooms and bedrooms and kitchen cupboards, pausing to straighten tops and press kisses to cheeks

going through old photos together and collapsing into laughter every three pictures, and zooming in on ones where they’re pulling awful faces or ones that were taken at just the wrong moment

getting ready for nights out together, standing shoulder to shoulder as they brush their teeth or get their faces ready or style their hair, knocking elbows and hips as they try and hog more space