MOJAVC

Reblog this post and add in the tags

your URL

if you’re a single muse or a multimuse

if they’re canon or an OC

your muse’s name, and from where they come from

EXAMPLE: scrunklyrpblog, single muse, canon, Scrunkly the Mighty ( pokemon mystery dungeon )

to be added in the list!

NOTE: if you have a multimuse blog, feel free to write as many muses as you have; if you have a fandomless OC, specificy that you just have a specific verse or their “title” – and remember to reblog the fandomless masterlist too!

feel free to specify if your muse is canon divergent too!

“ that’s a good point,” sheila offers, now craning her head to the side as if to get a better view of their eyebrows. deacon has a point; she’d never noticed the faint ginger hairs hiding behind the frame of his sunglasses.

to sheila’s surprise they take her up on the offer. a wide grin appears upon her face, all goofy and crooked. “ i mean, i’ll try, ” she teases as she carefully takes the rasor from their hand. “ can’t make any promises though. ”

taking a moment to peer around the room for something for him to sit on, she eventually spots an old wooden crate. he’s a touch taller than her, enough so that either sheila’s arms would become very sore from reaching up, or deacon’s neck would kink from ducking down for her. it is quickly pulled over from the corner it had been abandoned in, and with a quick pat atop the frame to signal him to sit, she gets to work.

     he nearly rests his hands on the crate, then realizes that’s a good way to get a splinter & folds them in his lap instead.   ‘ it’d be a fun scar to make up stories for, though, ’  they muse as she gets to work.  ‘ could say a bullet grazed my head. or a deathclaw nearly got me in its grip. a surgery scar from them removing my synth programming chip. ’  not worth the way it would make him stand out, though. deacon has carefully crafted their appearance to be as unmemorable as possible.  like the glasses, to hide his uncommonly bright blue eyes.

      it’s only when they think about the glasses that they realize the predicament they’ve gotten themselves into: sheila’s going to need them to take the damn things off so she can shave their head properly. terror pokes pins into his lungs. fuck.

after a moment she gets started. it's an awkward first pass, unsure exactly how to go about it, before she eventually settles on planting her artificial hand squarely atop deacon's head while starting to shave downwards from his crown. sheila's hand movements are slow at first, seemingly hesitant, but with each pass she gains more confidence. it's almost peaceful for a while, the faint scrape of the razor the only sound in the dilapidated room as the fine red and white stubble is shaved away.

a pause.

" i know, i know! but he's so cute, look at his little face- " another sneeze, this one followed by three or four more in quick succession. finally, mercifully, sheila relinquishes the cat and places it gently on the ground. the cat, seemingly now satisfied with the chaos, brushed against sheila's leg once, then arcade's, before disappearing into the rubble of a nearby building.

A hand pressed into the back of her neck, cradling her close as his cheek turned to her temple. "Jesus Christ, Sheila..."

the hand against the back of her neck was firm. warm. secure. though if he looked beyond the feeling of holding her close, he would notice something... off. a lack of cushioning where her shoulder length hair would normally be, even if it had been tied back.