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@tightenshold
Hello!! My name is Peyton and this is a multimuse primarily consisting of Pjm characters and more depending on if I get the motivation to add them. This is a sideblog to middlenurses so I'll follow you back from there if you follow me here!!
RULES POST
GRAPHICS MADE BY MEOWDISTRACT
Muses featured
SITTING IN SOMEONE'S LAP PROMPTS.
listen. i want to tell ye that i have infinite reasons for making this. that i've been designing this for weeks, months even. but i can't. this happened because i saw one (1) meme and aligned that with two (2) cups of coffee. either way besties, you're all getting a strangely detailed list of reasons to drop your muse into another muse's lap. you wanna switch the roles? add a [ REVERSE ] if you want your muse to be the lap that's being sat in! don't add to this list, don't claim it as your own, i'll curse all your potatoes to be soapy and sad to consume.
[ SHAVE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can carefully shave the last of the receiver's stubble from their face.
[ MAKE-UP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to get a better vantage point to apply makeup to their face.
[ SNIP-SNIP ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap whilst giving them a haircut.
[ HAIR ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so that the receiver can style or just play with their hair in peace.
[ CAR ]: sender ends up sitting in the receiver's lap whilst in a very crowded car together.
[ STUMBLE ]: sender loses their balance and trips backwards, falling into the receiver's lap in the process.
[ INTIMIDATION ]: sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.
[ LOOK ]: sender, wanting to see something that can only really be seen from where the receiver is sitting, sits in their lap in order to see it as well.
[ HEAL ]: sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities.
[ FEAR ]: a frightened sender sits in the receiver's lap in an effort to feel some measure of safety and protection.
[ COMFORT ]: sender, after a challenging and emotionally draining experience, settles into the receiver's lap in search of a feeling of comfort.
[ ADJUST ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap in order to fix their collar or tie or other item of clothing.
[ STRADDLE ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap with one leg on either side of their legs, straddling them effectively.
[ EMBRACE ]: sender settles in the receiver's lap to give them a long, well-deserved hug in comfort.
[ CARRY ]: sender, having been carried by the receiver for other reasons, winds up sitting in their lap once they sit down.
[ THROW ]: sender flings themselves at the receiver, so eager for a hug that they end up in their lap.
[ DROP ]: exasperated (or maybe just exhausted) the sender drops down into the receiver's lap to rest.
[ CUDDLE ]: eager for some well-earned cuddling, the sender finds it much easier for everyone involved to sit in the receiver's lap during the cuddle session.
[ MOVIE ]: while watching a movie together (and possibly being so distracted by the film that they don't realize what they're doing) the sender settles back into the receiver's lap.
[ CHAIR ]: the distinct lack of available chairs in a room results in the sender having no choice but to sit in the receiver's lap.
[ CLOSENESS ]: after having been apart for a considerable length of time, the sender sits into the receiver's lap just to be close to them.
[ PRETEND ]: in a bid to persuade others that they're in a relationship (even though they're probably not) the sender climbs into the receiver's lap to convince the on-lookers of their legitimacy.
[ LEARN ]: sender sits in the receiver's lap so they can teach them a particular practical skill (e.g. pottery, knot-tying etc.)
[ ACCIDENT ]: the sender, unaware that the seat they're trying to claim is occupied, drops into the receiver's lap without realizing it.
[ EXHAUSTION ]: the sender, surrounded by nothing but uncomfortable places to rest in, finds a solution by sitting in the receiver's lap in order to rest and possibly sleep.
[ CHILLED ]: the sender and receiver find themselves in a particularly cold room, leading the sender to sit in the receiver's lap in order to share body heat.
[ KISS ]: the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.
[ FLIRT ]: the sender, only just beginning to explore the romantic side of a relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap in order to express their feelings clearly.
[ ROMANCE ]: the sender, in a well-established romantic relationship with the receiver, sits in their lap just because they can.
[ THRONE ]: having found the receiver sitting in their throne, the sender sits in their lap in order to symbolically and physically share the seat.
Fateful encounter 🤔
❛ no is a sufficient answer. ❜ ((throws at curtis))
KNIGHT & MOTH || ACCEPTING
Cigarette rests between his lips as he stares back at Franco, an eyebrow raise at his inquiry. An interesting thing to request him of all people, especially considering they weren't working together today. Not that he'd listen to the man anyway, Franco was nowhere near his level to be making any kind of demands. Even with the smile on his features a keen eye would notice the corners of his mouth twitch, but it wasn't from laughter.
"Why should I?"
❛ which is more intricate? the designs of men, trying to reach gods, or that of gods, trying to reach men? ❜ ((chucks at arias—))
KNIGHT & MOTH || ACCEPTING
"What's more intricate?"
Voice is quiet, one hand resting atop his waist whilst the other intertwined. The room is silent save for shoes against the tile flooring of his home and their breathing, no music playing but an internal melody both men followed. Despite Wesker's expressionless mask Arias continued to make eye contact with him, hard locked into the bright red eyes he'd come to know and appreciate.
"A fascinating inquiry, Albert... Though, I'd have to say men are more intricate." Arm raises and his waist is briefly released, twirling the man and pulling him close, "Men are capable of quite a bit, both good and bad..." They return to their initial poses and the dance continues, small smile gracing his lips. "In all my years of living, I've seen very few men attempt to reach gods with my own two eyes; as for the ones I have seen," Arias would soon abruptly dip the man.
"They're the most fascinating."
He's ignoring Wesker's attempt to change the topic; annoying, but he can play this game a little longer. In truth, some part of him was enjoying the attention, creepy as it was. His silver face is void of all emotion save for the eyes that, though cast in shadow, still glow a bright red and sparkle with delight.
"You agree then that this world is in desperate need of a clean and better slate?" Even if Arias agreed and desired to cooperate, Wesker knew he had to hold him at arm's length, lest he be blindsided by an inevitable betrayal — people in his line of work never kept their partnerships for long if they ever had any at all. It would have only been a matter of time before Albert betrayed William for his research; how long would it take him for Arias?
"Randomly," He parrots, turning his attention to the walls of the room mimicking a lovely and quiet day. "I feel like that's a fib, Arias. One doesn't randomly meet me of all people, especially after I was declared dead. It's okay to admit you were searching for me." He waves a hand, motioning to the room. "What is all of this, then? Seems rather peculiar for a man to have a room like this."
Eyes still shine brightly even with all the various bright lights surrounding them, catching his attention and making the small smile on his lips twitch. A truly fascinating man even with his face concealed behind a blank mask.
"I do. This world is plagued by war, death, famine; such things don't belong in the world I plan to create." A perfect utopia would be created with the help of Wesker, someone who nearly came close to perfecting his goal. Ideally, he'd like to keep Wesker for as long as possible but even he knows it's wishful thinking. Perhaps the other man is already preparing the betrayal or even planning for a swift escape.
"Ha, I can't keep anything from you, can I?" Slowly does he rise from his chair and walk away from Wesker, moving to the front of the table and extending his arms. "This was my wedding day, a day I had been looking forward to ever since I was a child. Unfortunately, it was cut short; the government bombed it, taking the lives of almost everyone there...including my wife. For years now I've been trying to perfect my products in order to enact my revenge, but now that I have you..." Smile grows wider as he locks eyes with the man, "I can rewrite the past, and with you."
' somehow , i feel like that's different from the rest . ' or at least the majority : those who found pleasure in strength and likewise satisfaction in every kill , red like wine to the senses ; to sensuality . there's a moment of silence as the abnormality withholds a second thought of remark : that the members of limbus company preferred it to remain a mimicry of one of its less violent sinners so as to keep friction to a minimum . in a group restraint was necessary , but in the position of someone like this --- a legitimate color , of all things ... ' were you allowed to kill less as you grew stronger ? but it must have started to feel lonelier too , then . '
Killing was less about enjoying the activity and more about survival. The act of taking a life gave him no satisfaction even if they were a part of a finger, something that came to him as easily as breathing did. Initially he was dealing with those who broke taboos but now fighting for the LCD...a strange turn of events Vespa hadn't anticipated. "Becoming stronger meant contracts went easier, but I killed however many people that was required. I don't feel lonely but becoming a color fixer hardly changed anything, I'm sure I'll be required to kill when Director Moses tells me to." He's briefly reminded of Matthias, finger moving to push up his glasses as he steals a snack from their plate.
@nursefather-oftheindex || CONT FROM
"I'm sure you're pleased as fuckin' punch knowing you still have something to work for, huh!? Have you grown tired of tearing Yoru down that you've come to torment me?" Hand burns with pain as the glass digs further into her skin, teeth digging into the end of her cigar. Though she made no attempt at removing the various shards, other hand now moving to grab hold of Rien's collar with an intense rage in her gaze.
"The fuck do you really want, Rien? Why the hell are you here if not to just get your kicks at trying to tear me down?"
@ofhope || CONT FROM
Saying it felt forbidden, sucking the air out of his chest once it uttered from his lips.
It was difficult for Mine to articulate his desires without feeling guilty afterwards, ultimately keeping quiet unless the two of them were lying in bed together. Mine never thought he deserved such gentle attention from anyone let alone Daigo; after living so long constantly on the edge of death or violence, even something like a gentle smile from the man was enough to get his heart racing.
He can feel Daigo's gaze on his tie and his body tightens up, fingers digging into his coat and gaze moving to look behind him. He must've said something wrong, voicing his urge to kiss him only wound up making things awkward, didn't it? They were still fairly new in their relationship so maybe Daigo wasn't comfortable doing such a thing; Mine begins cursing himself out until the other man speaks up.
"F-Forgive me... I didn't want to catch you off guard with a kiss, Daigo-san." Daigo's fingers on his suit fills his body with warmth, heart skipping a beat as he's now forced to look his lover in the eyes. A gentle gaze to accompany Daigo's beauty, soft black hair and facial hair compliment his face perfectly. A flush spread across his cheeks, and he wants nothing more than to stay this way.
Unfortunately, they needed to lock the door.
Mine practically trips over himself moving toward the door, following alongside Daigo and locking the door for his chairman. A gentle click and he was looking back toward Daigo, hand shakily moving up toward Daigo's face and cupping his cheek. The facial hair gently brushed against his hand, finger moving to rub against his lower lip.
Slowly does he move in, mouth only mere inches away from the other man's.
"May I...?"
Is he TRYING to push her away . . ? This isn't how it's supposed to WORK. Usually, the spell she casts gets her immediately into a man's good graces. And if she's lucky? Well, their bedsheets become FAMILIAR to her in the same span of a day. Yet here she is: having to CONVINCE this man that SHE is the better option than whatever 'wife' of his managed to get to him first. Elaine is trying not to doubt the Goddess, but why is she allowing her love life to become more and more DIFFICULT?
Maybe this is a TEST? The witch stops with her slight pout at that thought. Perhaps Mother above desires to see if the black-haired woman REALLY wants love oh so badly like she claims. Well . . . if that's the case, then Elaine will do her best to make the most of it. She's hoping by staying true to the path, she'll FINALLY get her happily ever after.
She reaches forward for the blond's hand, her finger running over that STUPID wedding ring. Whoever this girl is that he's concerned about . . . Elaine will get RID of that little problem. Confidence returns to the witch as she offers a grin to assure him that his martial status is NO concern of hers.
❝NOT happily married, I hope? It would be a shame if you BROKE my heart first meeting.❞
The woman's fingers idly run across his ring, glowing in the corner of his eye and once again does his mind wander. It guides him back to when he'd first met Catherine whilst they were young, when she'd sprained her ankle and had to spend a few days at his home. Linton recalled how she made him feel, how he'd desired to wed her even before he became an adult; and now...the two were married. However, as opposed to the rose-tinted glasses he chose to wear, the truth of the matter was they weren't happy.
Too attached to that wretch Heathcliff to acknowledge him, locked in her room and only speaking to him unless requested. He tried and tried to gain her absolute approval but to no avail, an emptiness forming in his own chest as he spent more time within the walls of his manor.
Elaine's attention...interested him, piqued his interest in a similar way to how Catherine first did all those years ago. Warmth enters his hand alongside a faint blush, ocean-colored hues moving to look at her.
"While I'm not flat out agreeing to your proposal, perhaps...we can have tea together? I would like to be acquainted with you before I make any decisions."
There it is - a compliment that feels hallow and empty, something to appease the baby and keep him from crying. It'll do what it's supposed to; stroke the ego of the shorter man who puffs his chest out with pride. Yes, he did do a good job and he liked to hear it, even if the words meant nothing when they were said. With Curtis' brains, Lloyd's brawn, and Franco's firepower, they managed to down three of the four reagents released into the trail. They each died a horrible death, courtesy of Franco. They begged him not to, but he's a violent man, and after the shit Easterman put him through just minutes before the entire thing, he needed something to hit.
"Hey, we all have our off days." Lloyd was useful enough that Franco didn't mind the poor performance, wherever Curtis saw it; he was too busy focusing on his own work to notice. "Your fella did fine." Not great, but not bad either. "Glad y' did come out, though. Did ya' see th' look on that whore's face when y' stepped out of the elevator? Ha!" He wished he could've gotten a picture of that. "Poor sucker never saw you comin'." But there he goes again, complimenting the little man, who becomes rather bashful about it and drags his foot across the concrete, avoiding any eye contact.
"Others would disagree with you." Coyle being one, Franco being another. He knows he's a nightmare to deal with, he's not stupid. He's violent and insecure and easy to anger — it's only by some miracle Curtis hasn't yet been on the receiving end of such a wild temper. "But hey, I suppose that's what sets you apart from them all, hunh? You seem to get on everyone's good side." A good way to survive in this loony bin, that's for sure.
"Why do you 'rarely participate' in these things? How come the boss lets you have someone else do this for ya?" Not that Barbi wished to have a servant of his own; he was quite pleased to be allowed and even encouraged to be the violent little rat he was, but it was a little unfair. Why was this guy even here if Lloyd was doing all the heavy lifting?
Better to get on his good side than end up in a late grave due to his pride getting in the way, though that didn't stop the disgust growing in his mouth upon praising Franco's efforts. Years having been spent honing his skills at conversation, working the room in order to appease even those he despised for the sake of keeping appearances; even in such a disgusting place like Sinyala he'd appear cordial. Curtis can easily appear as the kind old man he had been, plotting each and every one of the other assets' downfalls. He would always reign superior, reign supreme over the other fools he'd been forced to cooperate with.
"I thank you for your kindness, Mr. Barbi." Despite how many "talks" Curtis had with Lloyd, he couldn't prevent him from fucking up, an irritating factor that plagued him whenever they failed a trial. Although they were lucky and succeeded today, what's to say Lloyd won't mess up tomorrow? Or the day after that? A soft chuckle escapes him, the memory of the reagents face flashing in his mind. "Hm, I do recall that. It was quite a humorous experience, though I'm sure not for that idiot who thought they'd gotten out of the trial."
Head cocks to the side alongside grey locks, "Most of the time there's no need for me to participate; Lloyd handles it all before I have to participate... Though, instances like today required my attention." Another intake of his cigarette and smoke soon follows, "Lloyd wouldn't be able to function on his own if I'm not around. We've been together for so long that we can't be apart, Mr. Barbi." Besides, he could avoid the experiments with Lloyd around. "Though it does make me wonder...why did they allow you to keep your gun, hm? Lupara, was it?"
As Kabu sat down, he thought about the dish Larry enjoyed. The mixture of the spicy flavor and the crispy texture sounded very appealing to him, due to his love of spicy food. He assumed it was spicy to the style being called Fire Blast.
Maybe when he visited Paldea again, more specifically Medali he would visit the restaurant Larry enjoyed and try the food for himself to see how tasty it was.
"That sounds very good…I think I would enjoy it," Kabu comments with a smile. As he orders the ingredients he wants to add in his hot pot, he asks "What fuel keeps your fire ablaze? I mean, what motivates you to keep on going? I know that your job is tough, and because of that I want you to have a good time here and enjoy yourself."
He was feeling reflective today after doing so much training, and due to that was interested to see what Larry thought about himself.
What motivated him?
Not a difficult question by any means, but it had him contemplating. After practically ordering everything off the menu to put in his hot pot, he'd lean back in his chair. At his age barely anything motivated him outside of food and getting his paycheck; he certainly wasn't like Rika or Hassel who had a drive and wants...well, that weren't just simple things like food.
"..No clue, honestly." Eyes initially looking at the ceiling now turn down back to Kabu, "Food is a big motivator I guess, but nothing outside of that. I never really had any crazy aspirations when I was a kid; I just wanted a normal life of going to work and coming home. I'm sure your life is a lot more exciting than mine, though."
“Just give me a second–this is a lot to process.” (waylon @ your choice!)
"I..I understand. It was a miracle you managed to make it out of there..."
Lloyd had done an effective job at scaring this man to the point of hyperventilating, leaving Curtis to try and calm him down. It's normal for one to feel fear in such a scenario; after all, who knew such a large and imposing man would be chasing him. Waylon had practically collapsed once Curtis found him, offering a sense of relief within the walls of his mansion and away from prying eyes. How cruel he would've been had he left the man outside, especially considering how helpless he looked.
What kind of father would abandon their son to the hounds?
"You gave me quite a scare, young man. I was about to head to bed before you knocked on my door, but...I'm grateful I hadn't."
A sip of tea whilst he leans back in his chair, leg folded over the other with a gentle smile on his lips. "Take as much time as you need to relax, Mr...?"
TOMOLIFE || ACCEPTING
[ STARES. ] SENDER stares silently at RECEIVER.
He felt disgusted.
Even through the newspaper he could feel Franco's gaze upon him, not uttering a word upon being allowed inside by Lloyd. Not many people were given permission to enter his private office; hell, prime assets or anyone affiliated with Easterman were the last people the elder man allowed...but Franco was an exception. He wasn't foolish enough to completely follow the man's orders, but that didn't mean he would help the other man in his time of need. Leading him on proved effective; perhaps he could convince him to join his side in order to take over the facility.
Well, unfortunately that meant being "friends" with him.
"Did you need something, Mr. Barbi?"
OUR MUSES wait out the storm in a cramped, unsafe space. ((for krauser!!))
HIGH STAKES || ACCEPTING
The rain had gotten worse with each step they took.
Wesker had been shot in the abdomen, thankfully non-fatal but enough to where it made walking difficult. It didn't help that the other man started leaving a trail of blood; Krauser had eventually made the decision to lift the man bridal style, but not before wrapping a piece of his shirt around the injury as a makeshift bandage. Thankfully it'd been enough to halt their trail...but not enough to stop the bleeding completely. Given the severity he'd likely have to stitch it up, an unfortunate setback but a requirement in order to keep Wesker alive.
After ensuring the enemy had lost them, Krauser broke into a sprint; a potentially fatal mistake, but the other man had already lost so much blood. The taller man occasionally had to shake Wesker awake, complexion even paler than normal and breathing growing quiet.
At last, they'd managed to find an abandoned warehouse; it was dirty, cramped, and filled with openings for others to potentially see. It didn't matter now- he needed to tend to Wesker. A brief search of the warehouse revealed a first aid kit among various other medical supplies, quickly pulling out a needle and thread before returning to Wesker.
"Take your shirt off and bite on it."
The only words spoken as he pulls out his lighter, flicking the flame on and holding the needle over it.
I managed to queue a bunch of stuff for tomorrow on here!! Tomorrow I will attempt to tackle Matt stuff....goodnight....
