#Ethan POV

[4525yaoi]

lovely couple

[solazu1]

Ethan Winters Version of ‘Go my scarab’

There’s context behind this but nobody will ever know.

[spitsonyou1]

Lets go next prompt ‼️‼️ 🫶🫶

Ignore the scribbled out prompt thats for later :]

[bayetea]

I'm gonna froth at the mouth over this in the tags so bear with me but reason #1278038 why the way rick went about breaking up jiper was bad: rereading her povs in hoo where she gushes over jason feels like even more of an unreliable narrator queer girl comphet psychological horror story

[souenkun]

I'll train my Pokémon and... my own heart, too. I'll come back as the toughest challenge for you!

one or many // radwimps - iron feather // in my heart // the choices we make // hitsujibungaku - more than words // battle against evil // kana-boon - ai ni mamirete // endings and beginnings

[brucequeensteen]

dead poets society (1989), dir. peter weir

[shubblelive]

“this man is to me what jack manifold is to you guys”

[xx-completely-in-ur-car-xx-blog]

MBAV Villain Posters V: Blue Moon

Another week, another poster. This time, we've got 'part animal' werewolf Ethan, with a bonus 'party animal' Rory. Controversially, perhaps, I didn't go with David for this one... but let's be honest— he's just a nice guy & it's wolf Ethan that actually ends up being the threat.

[ethanharmonia]

I have a bit of an artblock rn so how about i share some homosese pepel

(TW : Gay Gay Homosexual Gay)

(all the pics were taken by me cuz i was playing that goofy ahh game for a year and i identify as an attack helicopter)

You cannot stop me from being homosexual, this is my hobby /j

Also 2 dads and 1 son no way (bro multiplied himself)

Imagine what Blue would do if he saw 2 copies of his own husband, and Ethan just being there, guarded by these two emos ong

Dad, Son, and a single French individual with a frog that can tear you apart (beware of french people /j)

[viioletgarden]

cassandra...? cassandra?

[ayelbee]

MORE THAN LOVE | K. MBAPPÉ | 7

previous chapter |

masterlist

Summary: Sometimes even love is not enough for relationships. But it's fine because you are over it. But getting again in a contact with his younger brother wasn't smart.

TW: bad english, bad writing

Notes: Hey, I'm so sorry that this took me so long, but last few months weren't really good to me. I'm really grateful for those who reached out to me (sorry, for no answering loves, but i do really love you and im thankful for you)

I will be back soon with a new chapter, love you very much guys

---

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions. You tried to focus on work, but thoughts of Kylian kept creeping into your mind. You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe Ethan was right, that maybe there was still a chance for you and Kylian. But your rational side reminded you of the reasons you two broke up in the first place.

One evening, as you were sitting on your couch, scrolling through your phone, you received a text from an unknown number. It simply read, "Can we talk?" You felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension. After a moment of contemplation, you replied with a hesitant, "Okay."

The response came quickly, "Meet me at our spot tomorrow, 7 PM."

"Our spot" was a small park near the Seine River where you and Kylian used to spend lazy afternoons. It held countless memories, both happy and bittersweet. The idea of meeting there again brought a flood of emotions, but you agreed nonetheless.

The next evening, you found yourself at the park, the air filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers. As you approached the familiar bench, you saw Kylian waiting. His expression was a mix of nervousness and determination.

"Hi," he greeted you, standing up as you approached.

"Hi," you replied, unsure of what to expect.

Kylian gestured to the bench, and you both sat down. The silence hung heavy in the air until Kylian spoke, "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Y/n."

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I know things between us didn't end well, and I've spent these days realizing my mistakes. I miss you, and I miss us," he confessed, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Kylian, we broke up for a reason. I can't forget the arguments, the misunderstandings, and the pain we caused each other."

He nodded, acknowledging your words. "I've been talking to my brother, and he made me see things from a different perspective. I know I messed up, but I'm willing to change, to make things work."

You looked at him skeptically, but a small part of you wanted to believe him. "Kylian, change takes time. It's not something that happens overnight. And I can't ignore the past."

He reached for your hand, his touch familiar and comforting. "I'm willing to put in the effort, Y/n. I love you, and I want to make things right."

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings. The inner battle between your emotions and logic continued. Could Kylian change? Could you trust him again?

But deep down, you knew that reopening old wounds might not be the best idea. With a heavy heart, you pulled your hand away and said, "Kylian, I appreciate your honesty, but I need time to think. We both do."

He nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Take all the time you need, Y/n. I just want a chance to show you that I can be the man you deserve."

You left the park that evening with a mix of emotions. The ball was now in your court, and the decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. The ride home was filled with the echoes of Kylian's words, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about the path ahead.

Could Kylian become the man you deserve? This wasn't the first time Kylian promised you that he would work on himself. Memories of that day came back to into your head.

The following week marked your return from the trip to visit your family in New York. The air in the apartment felt different as you unpacked your bags and settled back into your routine. The memories of the argument with Kylian still lingered, but there was an unspoken understanding that both of you needed time and space to heal.

As you entered the living room, you found Kylian sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The atmosphere was tense, but you were determined to address the underlying issues.

"Hey," you greeted him, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Kylian looked up, offering a small smile. "Hey. How was your trip?"

"It was good. Nice to spend time with my family," you replied, taking a seat opposite him.

A silence hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. You decided to break it, "Kylian, we need to talk about what happened before I left."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and longing. "I know. I messed up, Y/n. I shouldn't have said those things."

You sighed, "It's not just about what you said. It's about us, about our expectations and how we communicate. I don't want us to keep hurting each other."

Kylian ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "I don't want that either. I just… I got scared, and I didn't handle it well."

"I get that you're worried about us, about me. But we can't let fear dictate how we communicate," you emphasized.

He looked at you, his eyes searching for understanding. "I don't want to lose you, Y/n. I love you, and I don't want my insecurities to ruin what we have."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart. "Kylian, I love you too. But we need to find a way to support each other without stifling our individual dreams. I won't ask you to give up football, and I can't give up my career either."

He nodded, a silent agreement settling between you. "I know, and I'm willing to work on it. I want us to figure this out together."

A sense of relief washed over you. "Me too. But it means we need to be open and honest with each other, even if it's uncomfortable."

Kylian reached for your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Deal. I don't want to lose you, Y/n. You're too important to me."

You squeezed his hand, a shared understanding passing between you. "I don't want to lose us either, Kylian. Let's take it one step at a time."

As you sat there, hands intertwined, a renewed sense of hope filled the room. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but the commitment to understanding and supporting each other became the foundation on which you both hoped to rebuild. The scars of the past would take time to heal, but the willingness to grow together offered a glimmer of possibility for the future.

Possibility for the future that didn't work out in the end....

-----

Tag list: @nightlockcornucopia, @she-lives-in-her-dreams, @sorceresski @m4k444 @mrs-dasilvasantoss @starofavolonea @mrswhitethornbelikov @kyksgirl

[mxr1e]

Will wouldn’t say that, this never happened, he actually hates Luke for turning on the camp, and causing his brothers and friends to die.

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

𝕰𝖇𝖎𝖊'𝖘 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔰

Here are my playlists separated by fandoms! I hope you enjoy! You can always see what I'm up to on my Spotify!

ℌ𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔏𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯

𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕻𝖆𝖚𝖑 𝕵𝖔𝖍𝖓 𝕿𝖞𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖜 𝕶𝖎𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕹𝖔𝖆𝖍 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖓𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖜 𝕶𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖞 𝕵𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖆 𝕻𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝕵𝖊𝖇 𝕸𝖆𝖌𝖗𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖌𝖗𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖗) 𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊 𝕵𝖎𝖒 𝕰𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖘 𝕯𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖉 𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖔𝖒 𝕾𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖞𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖘 ℌ𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔶 𝕿𝖎𝖒

𝕺𝕮'𝖘 ℌ𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔶 𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱

𝔇𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔡 𝔇𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔫

𝕸𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖔𝖈 𝕵𝖔𝖍𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓 (WIP) 𝕬𝖇𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕶𝖗𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖐𝖆 𝕻𝖔𝖑𝖐𝖆-𝕯𝖔𝖙 𝕸𝖆𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕯𝖊𝖑𝖗𝖔𝖞

𝕺𝕮'𝖘 ℌ𝔞𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔊𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔡

𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔩 𝔅𝔯𝔲̈𝔥𝔩

Nothing here yet :D 𝕺𝕮'𝖘 𝔉𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔬 ℜ𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔬 𝔏𝔢𝔫𝔷 ℌ𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔫

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘

𝔓𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔭 𝔎. 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔈𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔍𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔞𝔶 (WIP) 𝔇𝔬𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔶 ℨ𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔨 (WIP) 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔍𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰 (WIP) 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙 (WIP) 𝔗𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔰 𝔞𝔨𝔞 ℜ𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔎𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔯 (WIP) 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔟𝔢𝔯 (WIP) 𝔄𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔯 ℌ𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 (WIP) 𝕬𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖘 𝕱𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖙 (WIP) 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖋𝖙𝖍 𝕯𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗 (WIP) 𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖌𝖔 (WIP) 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖚 (WIP) 𝕺𝕮'𝖘 𝔖𝔢𝔟𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 (𝔒𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯 ℑ𝔰𝔞𝔞𝔠) 𝕷𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 (𝔓𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯 ℭ𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔩𝔡𝔦) 𝔐𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔢 ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔪𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 (ℜ𝔢𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔠𝔞 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩) ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔅𝔢𝔠𝔨𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔡 (𝔉𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔪𝔞 𝔄𝔤𝔶𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔫) ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔞 ℌ𝔞𝔴𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔢 (𝔄𝔫𝔫𝔞 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔯) 𝔄𝔟𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯 (𝔏𝔞𝔯𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔶𝔫𝔫 𝔅𝔬𝔶𝔩𝔢)

𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖉

ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝕬𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝕲𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝕮𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘, 𝖆𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖍𝖔𝖑 & 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰, 𝔳𝔞𝔪𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔰, 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 “𝖎'𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖞𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉𝖘” 𝕷𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖉 — 𝖕𝖙.1 𝖜𝖆𝖑𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖉 — 𝖕𝖙.2 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖆 80𝖘 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖈 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖒𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖜𝖓 𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖆 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖔 𝖗𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙.𝖆.𝖗.𝖉.𝖎.𝖘. 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖔 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 1950𝖘 𝕻𝖔𝖛: 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊́ 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖚𝖑𝖆𝖗 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖟𝖎𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖈 𝕵𝖆𝖟𝖟 𝕹𝖔𝖎𝖗 𝕹𝖔𝖎𝖗 𝕾𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖘

[randomfoggytiger]

"Mr. Mulder, I Know Something About You"

(Dedicated to @baronessblixen for her fascinating idea: Bill Scully giving Tom Colton and Ethan Minette binders bulging with dirt on one Fox Mulder. This took a slightly different path, though.)

*****

The first time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder was the day after his sister and her partner were sucked almost dry and hospitalized in Washington State for nearly two weeks. One fuzzy, panicked call from Tara and one fuzzier, harried call from his mom sketched in the slim details: Dana was on the mend, she’d been investigating a missing loggers’ case with her partner--

“What 'partner'? She’s in the field?” 

She had been, for months. He’d forgotten to ask at their father’s funeral, convinced that her height and lack of experience had kept her teaching at Quantico. 

“Dana's mentioned him once before, I think. You know how tight-lipped she is about her life.”  

“Mom, do I need to come home? Is she….”

“No, Bill-- but I’ll call you if she takes a turn for the worse.” 

So, Bill stayed on board; and Dana got better, and Tara celebrated over the phone, and Maggie remembered the name: Fox Mulder. 

*****

The second time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder were the days following his sister’s abduction. 

His mother talked of little else-- with Dana’s captor dead, any possible leads had died with him. There was nothing now but faith and hope.  

“But I believe Fox will call as soon as he finds her.” 

Fox. His sister, Tara had told him, still called him Mulder. Then again, Tara’s attention was currently wrapped up in calendars and planners and endless negatives. For that matter, his was, too; and what little time he had to think of family he thought of her, alone, counting the rising costs of their countless tries, alone, while he worked as often as he could to forget to cover those costs and forget his own loneliness. And his sister, somewhere, alone; and his mother back in Maryland, alone.

Dana and her former partner’s professional relationship wasn’t a top priority, or even a distant concern.  

**** 

The third time Bill heard the name Fox Mulder was after promising his eldest sister that Tara would try her fertility herbs. His wife was curled up on one side, quiet, and Melissa stuck her toes in his other side, slyly smiling.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” she concluded, setting aside the herb pouch and pinning him with her eyes, “why haven’t you given Dana a call? She hasn’t said it, but she’s been expecting one.” 

“Don’t start, Missy.” He’d have disengaged, too, but Tara’s head was pressing into his shoulder, a sure sign she was falling asleep. And sleep was precious these days, what with the hormone shots and regular appointments and never-ending stress. He’d promised to shoulder her stresses for nine more weeks; and whether this was a test or not, Bill Scully had and would never back down from his word. 

Melissa, opportunistic woman that she was, had banked on it, waiting for her sister-in-law’s “dozing” tea to kick in before launching the subject. “Billy, you know you want to talk to her. What’s the problem? I mean, she almost… we almost lost her. Why can’t you let whatever you’re holding onto--” 

“Miss--” he stopped, his voice startling them temporarily.

“You owe it to her, Bill. You two haven’t talked in months; and you both say it’s because of your work but really it’s because of your pride. You’re both so like Dad; but at least Dad was blind to what it did to us."

“And what about Dana? She's back on her feet and running right back to her autopsies and late nights. You can’t point a finger at me without three pointing right back at her. At least I try to be there for my family.” 

“You weren’t there when she was gone.” 

He swallowed, stung and angry. “And who was, Melissa? You?”

Her toes gripped his hip, guilty. “Fox.” 

*****

The fourth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was during his sister’s not-so-secret battle with cancer. His mother called often to vent and cry, unable to share her worries and pain with her only living daughter and unwilling to burden Tara with more stress.  

Fox had become a footnote of late, so consumed was he and Dana in their work. 

“Mom, how can you let Dana run herself down like that? She should be resting or looking into treatments-- anything rather than chasing after rag magazine cases half across the country!” 

“Bill, you know perfectly well not everyone can run to sea to escape their problems. Not even you.” 

*****

The fifth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was after he’d met the man, watched him fill Dana’s head with insane theories about chips and government conspiracies, and backed off, awed, when Dana’s cancer miraculously went into remission. 

He was roaming the halls, searching for coffee to wash down the remainder of his rage at Fox Mulder’s red eyes and dazed expression when he noticed another government type walk stiffly towards the nurse’s desk, brusquely flash a badge, straighten his stiff spine and stiffer tie, and promptly demand to see “Fox Mulder.” 

“I know where he is,” Bill cut in, saving the nurse the hassle but still getting a glare for his trouble. “Bill Scully. How can I help you?”

“Yes-- I was sent to bring him back for questioning; and we’re expected in,” he looked significantly at his watch, “forty minutes. If you would take me to him--”

“Take Mulder where?” Bill snapped around to see Walter Skinner, A.D., striding over, eyebrows drawn and face grim.  

“Yes, Sir. Agent Mulder is being called in for--”

“The committee’s been disbanded until further notice, Agent Colton; and until I have those further orders, my agents are not to be bothered or contacted while they are in this hospital. Is that understood?” 

Bill watched the other man’s jaw lock, grind, and shift as it worked its stubborn way around, “Understood, Sir.” Then Agent Colton turned tail and fled, heels thudding down the tile on their thunderous path to the elevator. 

A.D. Skinner wasn’t done yet. “My apologies, Mr. Scully. That agent was out of line; and I'll see to it that your family isn't bothered again.” 

It was best to nod and let the A.D. think he was frustrated with the intrusion.

Mulder could have been mid-conversation or on his way out by now. Instead, he would still be on that bench long after the family had left for the night. 

He seemed the type. 

*****

The sixth time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was over another phone call, mere months before the birth of his child. 

“Bill Scully? You might not remember me, but my name’s Ethan, Ethan Minette, and Dana and I used to date back when, well rather, right after she was recruited by the FBI. She ever mention me? Yes? No? Anyway, not important. Calling about information you might possibly have on, lemme check… Fox? Mulder, yep, Fox Mulder. Dana’s partner? There was a case she was involved in recently, really gruesome, real Frankenstein abomination stuff; and Colton, Tom Colton? You know him? Dana’s friend? Anyway, we keep in touch, we’re related somewhat, you know? And he named you as a hot tip and I was wondering if you…. Yeah, yeah, I can wait.” 

He and Tara fought afterward: Tara, as big as a house, was ready to cave the roof in.

“Dana’s coming for the holidays, Bill! And you two will spend the week in stony silence avoiding each other and, and Maggie and I will have to try to keep the peace instead of celebrating our first Christmas as a growing family, and-- and how could you do that, Bill? After all Fox Mulder did for our family?” 

Bill was lacking even to his ears; and, after cooler heads prevailed, he dialed Ethan back up and insisted his name be kept out of the article. Ethan talked doubly fast, banging a pen up and down every other word for emphasis as he cajoled and steamed about losing necessary credibility; but, inevitably, gave in. 

“I’ll only do this because you’re Dana’s brother and she was a real sweetheart. But if I need to call you in future…?” 

“I don’t have any more information.”

Dana skipped most of Christmas, anyway. 

*****

The seventh time Bill heard Fox Mulder’s name was when he flew in for Emily Sim’s hearing. 

“I need him as a witness if I’m to have any chance getting custody of Emily,” Dana had stated carefully, meticulously avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Bill still caught her bewilderment and fear… and joy. 

“When’ll he get here?” 

“Tonight, tomorrow… he didn’t say when, just that he’d be here.” He caught her smile, too. 

“Dana…” Her head snapped up, and he paused. “We’ll be there.” 

“Bill, you don’t have to--”

“We’ll be there, Dana.” 

And they were. 

And so was Fox Mulder. 

Bill left with Tara, tired and emotional, and Maggie, displaced and confused, after exchanging silent, cursory greetings with his sister’s partner. While he slowly walked away, both women in tow, he heard a curt “Dana Scully and Fox Mulder” echo behind him. 

And, in spite of everything, he sent up a prayer for both.

*****

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic

[babycruisetiktok]

pov: You are Mrs. Cruise and your fans made this edit

[ryp3004]

Thomas Hunt prided himself on knowing how to handle anything life threw at him. He was a professional. He understood that sometimes things went wrong and you have to adapt. It's a part of life as much as a part of show business. It's one of the things he tries his best to instil in his students, though this particular crop is so hard headed he's surprised they learn anything from him at all.

That being said,

He was not expecting a toddler when he opened his office door. A young student, yes, but not this young.

He looked down at a girl that couldn't be older than five with a confused look. She had long, curly pink hair, bright blue eyes, and, from the looks of it, was missing most of her teeth. She was dressed in a Hollywood U sweatshirt that was far too large for her. They sold kids sizes in the student shop but certainly not toddlers. She was holding a well loved stuffed cow.

"Excuse me." She spoke softly, averting her eyes shyly. "I need help."

Hunt blinked at her.

"Oh?" He said, dumbly though he's loath to admit it. "With what?"

"I can't find my momma..." And, oh no, there are tears welling in her eyes. "Your door says you're a hunter..."

He looks from the plaque on the door that reads 'Prof. Hunt' and back to the little girl.

"Not quite, little one." He places an awkward hand on her head. "But I can help you find your mother."

Her eyes light up and she hugs the cow closer to her. From this angle her eyes take up most of her face.

"Thank you." She says in a practiced tone.

"What is her name?"

"Mom."

Hm.

"Where did you see her last?"

"In the building."

Hmm.

"Do you know which building?"

"Um, it was made of bricks."

Hmmmmmmm.

"Well, do you know your name?"

The little girl nods.

...

...

"May I know your name?"

She gets shy, kicking her feet nervously.

"Momma said I'm not supposed to tell my name to strange old men."

Well, Hunt would hardly consider late 30's old but he digresses. He kneels down in front of her and offers her his hand.

"I'm Tom. I teach at this school. Does your Mom teach here, too?"

The little girl eyes his hand for a moment before tentatively shaking it and then her head.

"No. Momma goes to school here. She lives here, too. I live with Gramma and Grampa." The girl hugs the cow tighter, lip wobbling. "I didn' mean to get lost... I was following the butterfly."

Hunt is scrambling. Internally, of course, he's not going to let this upset toddler see he's freaking out, but the feeling persists nonetheless.

"Well, why don't we look around together? I'm sure she's very worried about you. Here, would you like me to carry you?" He asks, trying to project all of the good will he can muster. It must work because the girl holds her arms up and Hunt scoops her up and places her on his hip.

"Alright, which way should we go first?" He asks, tickling her side softly. Thank God, the girl giggles and the tears leave her eyes. She looks both ways before pointing down the hallway, so Thomas goes that way.

"My name's Ryanne." She says softly into his ear, still clutching her cow.

"That's a very nice name. Tell me, are you here with your mother and father?"

"I don' have a dad."

Okay, not touching that with a ten foot pole.

"Momma brought me here for the weekend. I was with Aunt Addie and Uncle E."

Addie and E? Why does that sound so familiar? It's on the tip of his tongue when Ryanne gently smacks his cheek to get his attention.

"That place! I came from that place!" She points at the student production lot. Most of his students should be there at the moment if they want their assignments to be done on time. This is a good chance to check on their progress and help Ryanne find her mother. He walks into the large building and finds it bustling with activity, students and teaching assistants rushing about.

"There!" She points at the fantasy set at the far end of the lot. From here, he can see several people rushing around, sees that they're yelling but can't quite hear them. "Momma wanted to show me the princess castle."

As he steps closer he can hear the clipped, frantic tone of his most... Difficult student, Rebecca Prince. He doesn't quite see her but he already preemptively rolls his eyes, not eager to deal with whatever distraction she'll pose before he helps Ryanne.

"I hear Momma!" Ryanne wiggles out of his grasp and takes off, Hunt right behind her. They come upon Rebecca gesturing wildly to Ms. Sinclair and Mr. Blake, eyes frantic and panicking.

"I've looked all over the lot, nobody has seen a toddler running around. I just can't believe you guys! I asked you to watch her for two minutes! Two minutes!" Mr. Blake looks guilty and Ms. Sinclair averts her eyes. "We got... Distracted. Ethan got a call... I had to help fix a hem...* Sinclair says lamely. Rebecca goes red in the face, about to snap at her.

"Momma!" Ryanne calls out and Rebecca spins around. She looks like a puppet with its strings cut the way she melts in relief. She quickly drops to her knees and holds Ryanne tightly.

"Jesus Christ, Ry, oh my god, are you okay!?" She pulls back, checking her over with a critical eye. Ryanne giggles as Rebecca, her mother, pokes at her stomach.

"Mhm. Tommy helped me!" That's when Rebecca notices him standing awkwardly to the side. She looks at him for a moment, mouth parted as if to say something before shaking her head and standing, holding onto Ryanne's hand.

"Thank you," Rebecca's eyes are sparkling and Hunt is reminded of the fountains of Versailles as he looks in them. He's about to respond when her eyes and smile turn sharp. "Tommy." She turns to Ryanne and pats her back. "Go apologize to Aunt Addie and Uncle E for running off. They were about to die today." She adds the last part with a glare at her flustered friends and Ryanne happily scampers towards them, the flight and colors of a butterfly already spilling out of her.

Rebecca looks at him for a moment in a way that reminds him of a film critic.

"I didn't know you had a daughter." He says before Rebecca can speak. He sees her eyes widen, a gentle blush adorning her cheeks. "Yeah. She lives with my parents most of the time. Addison and Ethan wanted to meet her and I already finished your project, so I figured this would be a good weekend." She never quite looks away from Ryanne, drinking in the sight of her as the panic slowly dissipates.

"She's very... Polite." He mumbles. Rebecca snorts and Hunt very politely does not point it out, even as the sound replays in his head. "That's all my parents. Trying to make up for their mistakes with me." She rolls her eyes, finally looking at him again. "What a crock of shit, right? I mean, look at me. I'm awesome."

Hunt scoffs. "Hardly. In fact, I'd say you think far too highly of yourself. That's something you'd do well to mind, Ms. Prince. Or is it Mrs.?" What was intended as a playful jab has her bristling and her face becoming stony. "It's Rebecca. Come on, Ryanne, it's nap time." Ryanne nods and bounces over to them before beckoning Hunt closer to her.

He crouches down and is met with a handful of toddler as she hugs him as tightly as she can. "Thank you, Tommy!" She smiles brightly and Hunt feels himself hugging back despite himself. "You're very welcome, Ryanne."

Rebecca picks her up and Ryanne waves at him goodbye over her shoulder, Ms. Sinclair and Mr. Blake following close behind.

What a cute kid.

He'll have to remember to ask after her before class on Monday.

Ask after Rebecca, too.