#wil blushing is my fave thing ever

[gaydexvocaloid]

the color coding of mio's zolas... god dammit im thinking of the powerpuff girl's again

OMG POWERPUFF ZOLA ANON YOU HAVE RETURNED TO ME!!!???! BUT UR SO RIGHTTTT AHGGGG. powerpuff zola project will never NOT be adorable. mio’s designs solidify this…

[baronessblixen]

You wrote something set after paper clip which was one of my fave ever msr cuddle fics. Could you please write them cuddling in another scenario? I love them platonically sleeping together and you tap into the emotions so well ❤️

Sorry it took me so long to answer this one. Here’s a cuddle fic set in season 2. Hope you enjoy.

Her first thought is that she’s crazy, paranoid like herpartner. Lack of sleep Dana, she assures herself nipping at the glass of watershe just poured herself. Cars park in front of your building all the time, shecontinues her internal monologue. This only bothers you because it’s 2 am andyou can’t sleep. She nods to herself, but the feeling gnaws at her steadily. 

Her lights are off so she moves to the window, peeks outside. The car acrossthe street is still there, unmoving but slightly askew as if ready to flee atany given moment. There’s a shadow inside, moving slowly, and Scully’s heartbeatpicks up. This is not real, she tells herself taking a deep breath. That’s whather therapist keeps telling her: breathe in deeply, breathe out, repeat. Scullyreiterates these words, mouths them silently, breathes in between. 

She willsherself to relax and thinks of Mulder. Her partner, who’s been nothing butforthcoming since she’s come back from… from whatever she’s come back from. Hermother refers to it as the time Dana went missing. As if it were a cute storyyou tell your children and grandchildren. Mulder calls it an abduction, hisvoice harsh when he says it, breaking guiltily on the last syllable. Unless heis looking at her. Scully doesn’t want him to see her like that, like avulnerable bird out in the cold that needs to be taken inside, needs to betaken care of. But right now, she wants to call him anyway, tell him all aboutthe car outside. Most of all she wants him to reassure her that she’s safe,that this is a figment of her overactive imagination. Not real. 

Her handreaches out to grab the phone. But she can’t call him. He’ll come over and thenhe’ll glance at her, maybe not even say a word, and he’ll feel like he needs toprotect her. No. She takes the phone with her, her gun too, and puts them onthe nightstand. Just in case, she tells herself, before she tries, and fails,to fall asleep.

The next night, after she’s rubbed off the make-up she usedto hide her exhaustion, Scully switches off all the lights and checks that thedoor is locked. Twice. Only then does she allow herself to peek outside. Nocar. She sighs in relief, laughs. She shuffles off to bed, praying she’ll getsome decent sleep tonight.

As so often these days, luck is not on her side. Two hourslater, she can no longer stay in bed, feels the desperate need to move. Withoutturning on the lights, Scully walks into the kitchen to boil tea water. A whileago her mother brought her this herbal tea claiming it would relax her.Tonight, she is willing to try. Everyone keeps telling her to relax, to enjoylife. As if her disappearance is nothing to worry herself with now that she’sback. 

The water gurgles softly in its kettle and Scully is too restless, toocurious to stay there. She tiptoes to the window in her living room. She rollsher eyes at herself; there’s no reason to be quiet. But as soon as she looksoutside, she sees it. The car. It is the same one, the shadow clearly visibleinside. Her heart beats faster as sweat breaks out on her forehead. When isthis going to end? In the kitchen, the kettle whistles angrily, startling her. 

Scully’s hand trembles as she pours the boiling water over the prepared teabag, but the soft lavender scent is unable to calm her nerves. Safe for leavingher apartment, there is only thing she can do. Her hands curled around the hotmug, her eyes flicker to the cell phone on her kitchen table. She may not seeit in the darkness, but she knows it’s there. She takes a sip from the scaldinghot beverage before she puts it down, knowing it won’t help. There’s only onething that will.

“Mulder, it’s me. I hope I didn’t wake you.” Hervoice sounds robotic in her own ears. How often have they done this? Nighttimecalls hoping the other one wouldn’t be angry. Usually it’s Mulder who calls herand she has to assure him that she doesn’t mind.  

“Scully, are you all right?” Unlike her, Muldersounds alert. And, just like she suspected, terrified.

“I’m fine, Mulder. I just- I’m probably overreactingbut…,” she takes a deep breath and hears Mulder hold his, “there’s acar in front of my building. It’s the second time I see it and I’m sure I’moverreacting, but…”

“I’ll be right there, Scully.”

“You don’t have to come over, Mulder. I just needed to…talk to someone, I guess.”

“Scully? I’ll be rightthere. I’m um, in the neighborhood anyway. See you soon. Just stay put.”He hangs up without a goodbye or explanation. That’s nothing out of theordinary. In her neighborhood at this time of the night? That certainly is.

Not ten minutes later there is a knock at herdoor. She knows it’s Mulder, but she stares through the peephole, asks anyway.Just in case. These days she can’t be careful enough. Her furiously beatingheart agrees.

“Hi.” It’s pure relief when Scullyushers Mulder inside. He lets himself be dragged to the window, trusting her tonavigate through her pitch-dark apartment. “Look.” She tells him.He’s standing behind her, his chest gently pressing against her back. His headis over her shoulder, staring outside. Puffs of gentle breath brush her cheekand this, she realizes, is so much better than any herbal tea. She hasn’t feltthis relaxed in days, weeks maybe. Thank you Mulder, she thinks, wishing thewords were easier to say.

“Tonight is the second time I saw it,but who knows how long it’s been there and why.”

“A week.”

“What?”

“That car has been there a week.”Mulder, still close to her, tells her evenly. Her blood runs cold with asudden, inexplicable sense of betrayal. Goosebumps cover her arms as thefeeling disappears and makes room for something else, something new.  

“How do you know that, Mulder? Whydidn’t you tell me?” Scully barely registers the squeaky quality of hervoice. She turns around, pushes Mulder away. She misses his warmth immediatelyand it makes her angry; with him, the situation and worst of all herself.

“Because it’s me, Scully. It’s me.”

“You…” She tears at the drapes,stares at the car. It’s a black Sedan. Mulder likes to rent a Ford or a Taurus.In her mind his words don’t add up, don’t make sense. Where did he get thatcar? Her mind screams, unable to look at the bigger picture. Why is he watchingher from a car in the middle of the night? The question, though, never comes.

“I um, I didn’t tell you because well,you keep telling me you’re fine. But Scully, I’m not.” Slowly, she turnsto him. “I’m not fine. Most of the time when I’m not with you I stare atmy phone. Waiting for it to ring and someone to tell me that… one night lastweek, I couldn’t sleep. So I drove here. I just wanted to make sure everythingwas in order. I didn’t want to wake you so I stayed in my car. I figured ifanything were to happen, I’d be here. This time I’d be here.”

“Oh Mulder.” Scully doesn’t fighther tears, no longer fights the need to hold him close. His arms open and shefalls into them. The anger she felt moments ago dissipates into nothingness.

“I’m sorry, Scully. I wasn’t thinking, Iwas just…”

“I’m not angry, Mulder,” shemumbles against his shirt. It’s warm, it smells fresh, and so much like him;she feels safe. When he huffs against her hair, she smiles. “Fine, I mightbe a bit angry. I wish you’d just said something but… I didn’t tell youeither.” Communication 101, and they both flunked it. She wants to promisehim, and have him promise her, that next time they’ll talk. Say what is real,speak their feelings. She knows it would be a lie. An empty promise made in thecomfort of the darkness and each other’s arms. So she stays quiet, just holdhim tighter.

“I should probably leave. Go home.”

“Did you sleep in your car, Mulder? Thatlast week.”

“I… you know I don’t sleep much.”

“You need sleep, Mulder. It’s nothealthy.”

“Thank you, Dr. Scully. It’s 2 am andlook who else is awake.”

“You’re not leaving,” Scully decides,glancing up at him. Her eyes have gotten used to the darkness and she sees theexhaustion on his face, unmasked. “I want to make sure you sleep.”

“That sounds like a proposition.”His grin is so much more beautiful than the deep sorrow, the fearful lines allaround his eyes and lips.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,”Scully admits, ignoring his remark, “and you haven’t been sleeping at all.So, come on.” She takes his hand and drags him towards her bedroom. Hestops, glances at her.

“Scully?”

“Just to sleep, Mulder,” shewhispers, glad that he can’t see her blush, “Just to sleep.” Mulderundresses slowly once they’re in the bedroom. Scully considers switching on alight, but she needs the darkness; pretend this is a dream, she tells herself.Dana Scully doesn’t indulge in moments like this. Just for one night, she repeatsmentally, just tonight. She hears the rustle of Mulder’s jeans then footsteps.He stands there, a big, large shadow, but she is not afraid.

They don’t speak once he’s settled. There areno questions, no fears. Mulder is on his back, warm next to her. Scully movescloser, needs to be as close as possible. This is what is real, she thinks. I’mDana Scully, I’m his partner and he is mine. She takes his hand in hers,touches each finger as if examining them one by one. She laces them with hersbefore she carefully turns on her side. Mulder has no choice but to follow heruntil he is behind her again, the big spoon to her little one. She holds hishand, puts it under her chin. Mulder buries his face in her hair, her neck,breathing softly. This is the first, the only thing, that feels right.

“Thank you, Mulder.” This time thewords come easily, fill the room. Her eyelids begin to droop as her heartbeatslows down. She doesn’t know if there will be nightmares. Mulder is not amiracle worker. Though he would do everything in his power to convince herotherwise, she is certain of that. The thought puts a smile on her face and itremains there as sleep captures her, catches her as she falls.

“All you have to do is ask,Scully,” dream Mulder tells her, or maybe he is the real one holding her;it does not matter, “and I’ll hold you every night for the rest of ourlives.” What a wonderful dream, she marvels, before all other thoughtsleave her be.