just a little ficlet that I found myself writing

Submitted by @laurenwitt83

She could hear the aimless strum of his guitar as she entered the living room. She stood there just taking in the sight of him sitting on the couch, his eyes seemed to be out on the horizon overlooking the Vancouver skyline and though his hands were firmly cluthchjng the guitar, she could tell his mind was a thousand miles away. His rythmuc strumming was the equivalent of her fidgety hands, attempting to overcome an uncomfortable situation. His fingers produced the same three cords repetitively as if wishing them to hold the key that would orchestrate the answers that would lift the weight off of his present psyche.

The passing of time and quite a bit of self exploration had turned his short fuse disposition, which was quite extroverted back in the 90’s into a more serene accepting man who now humbly chose his artistry as a form of emotional outlet. Having set a goal to become the man that his mother would be proud of, he steadily walked that path throughout the years, peeling off layers of bitterness, arrogance, anger and self entitlement, whilst learning the most important things in life come in the form of the heart, and so he focused on the ppl he loved and nourished himself through generosity, trust and forgiveness. Unfortunately public lashing was a built in component within the profession he had chosen, and at times he was left exposed and raw to the point he wished he could lash out and vent the frustrations out of him in a way that would leave some destruction as evidence behind him.

In the past three years or so being on stage singing his own songs served as a therapeutic tool, being able to express himself through his vocals, mediocre as they were, stilled his mind and connected him to his physical body, he enjoyed the adrenaline rush, the flow of fear turned excitement surging through his body. He loved the feel of his damp shirt, not completely soaked through after a concert, almost equivalent to the feeling of completing a challenging workout session at the gym. And the love the fans bestowed on him wherever he went was so touching, strengthened his belief that it was all worth it at the end.
And yet at that given moment the turmoil within his body surged, any outlet was apparently trapped.

The tabloid headlines were yelling out a may December romance and the fans had become flippant and turned on him bestowing him with titles truly unbecoming of his true self. He wished he could just wait it out untethered, but a form of sexual deviancy was where he drew the line, especially since Hollywood seemed to be awakening and showing, rightfully so, no tolerance for power plays of that nature.
He wasn’t sure why he agreed to play along with the suggestion that seemed faltered right from the get go, but Gillian’s determination managed as always to sway his better judgment into a haze of agreement.
She used words like “steer people off our tracks” and promised a sense of release of those reigns that seemed to be forever controlling them as to not reveal the secret of their relationship. Being the hopeful man that he was he found himself pitching an enticing idea that would combine money and the opportunity of an upgrade in the life to a 24 year old. She would have to just hang around him once in a while, long enough for the paparazzi to catch them in close proximity, do some odd jobs here and there, make some extra cash, have her expenses taken care of for that duration of the Xfiles shooting and continue to have fun and carefree with her friends and the people in her life. What 24 year old in their right mind would say no to an appealing offer as that?

“With people already subscribing to the notion Peter is my boyfriend now, you being seen with Monique will seal the deal, it will allow us some freedom.” She seduced him with that last word, “freedom”, she knew how taxing being in the public eye was. the media’s constant need to decipher his relationship with Gillian felt like a never ending picking at a scab leaving it open and exposed to potential further damage. He wanted to ensure this wouldn’t happen again. And so he shrugged his shoulders and said ok. And now he was filled with remorse.

He would never blame her for anything, his heart was too pure when it came to her, she knew she was his soft spot equally as much as she was his trigger. coming out of her latest meditation she was aware of the fact that she had done wrong by him, even though he would never admit to it if she were to ask him. And since he wasn’t a punishing man by nature, she was left with the task of beating herself up for sth that she could not undo now.

She wished she could go back in time to the days when it was a bit simpler, when they were together in one of her favorite cities, New York, his home base, before she put her head in his lap on national TV and he had to sit on his hands to refrain from touching her further.

That whole Kimmel interview was just one long mess of constant touching which was provoked by that skit they had shot earlier that day. The friction of her pelvis against his groin each time he had to pull her upon him on that table left them both hot and bothered and infested their bodies with primal needs which didn’t get an outlet until later that evening.

Acting out of pure desperation to better a situation backfired, it had stained her reputation and creating an uproar against her, but now she has brought David before that same firing squad and the rifles weren’t loaded with blanks. She recalled the Mark Mann shoot with David in TriBeCa, she just couldn’t resist inscribing her photo to him with a joking comment referring to Mann as her other lover. Whilst in a safe setting that day she had paraded David proudly as her lover, in between shots she would sneak a kiss, a fleeting touch, a whiff of his scent. She was an addict and he was her drug of choice. Even in her premenopausal state where she was barely recognizing her own body due to the changes it was undergoing he had the ability to bring that youthful potency and innocence she once possessed, accompanied by a roaring libido lubricated and in need of satisfaction.

With short strides she is at his side, he promptly stops strumming, catching her liquid blue gaze, using it to center him as he had done numerous times in the past.

His lips curl up slightly and he exhales a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding in. Putting the guitar on the couch beside him he makes room for her within his personal space and she invades it willingly. climbing onto his lap she rests her cheek at the crook of his neck, brushing her lips against him. Her hand caresses his cheek, the damp coldness of her palm warmed by the radiating heat of his cheek. Slightly gripping at his jawline she tugs him towards her parted lips, their eyes lock for a split second, a silent conversation of blue and hazel. His lips latch on to her lower lip softly suckling on it as his hands pull her in closer to him, needing to lose himself within the solace her tiny frame was offering him. She thrusts her tongue deep into his mouth seeking out a corner where she can deposit all of her apologies. In response he runs his tongue along the roof of her mouth reassuring her that no apologies needed, they were in this together, they will ride the wave until until the end.
A surge of emotion cuts deep in her core and she pulls away, silently sobbing against his chest. He strokes her hair, kisses the top of her head and whispers, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Thank you so much for sharing! Hope you write more !

Gillovny prompt for you jhh: I remember you said you have a denial theory that Gillovny is doing all that with PM and MP so they can come out later as a new couple and the press won’t ask about their past. Could you maybe turn this theory into a fanfic? Thank you! <3

justholdinghandsok:

It’s been a year since they agreed on this. The decision was made quickly, he feels like he didn’t even have his word to say. They expressed their desire to come out, they explained their worries, some guy in a five fingers black suit found a solution in three steps. “Easy,” he said. Gillian said “yes,” his lawyer signed a paper, her lawyer signed it too, they shook hands and it was done. “Easy,” he repeated to himself.

It was “easy,” at least in the beginning. They found the perfect guy, British but not really, divorced but not really, the type of guy she could be attracted to. But not really. He felt odd when he had to let her go with him the first time, but he got used to it. It was the first step, his own first step, actually. He had to learn to share. Ceremony after ceremony, he had to watch the love of his life show herself with another man.

Jealous would be an understatement to define him. He’s possessive, territorial even. But her sweet words and soft touches never failed to reassure him. He was the one and the only one for her. He convinced himself that he could live like that a little more. It was for the best. Even after a certain day of June, when she called him in tears to apologize for what she called “an unfortunate accident”, he still thought it was the right thing to do. It was his turn to reassure her, to tell her it was okay and to renew his trust in her.

But if he was being honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t okay. Something has changed between them, and he feared it was forever. He made it to a new step. He had to learn to live without watching, reading, listening, caring. He had to rely on trust and only on trust, even though when he closed his eyes at night, this picture haunted his dreams turning them into terrible nightmares. Even today, when he finds himself on his knees in a moment of pure intimacy, with his hands on her hips, he has to take a deep breath and chase the ghost of Italy away before he strips her down. She knows, he can see it. He can tell that her lips say “I love you,” but her eyes say “I’m sorry.” They usually take twenty-five years to resolve their issues and he isn’t sure they have twenty-five more years to resolve this one. It was supposed to make them happier, to allow them to live their life normally, as a couple and as individuals too. But it’s consuming them slowly from the inside. Day after day, the sparkle in her eyes faded. Her smile became sad. Her demeanor more severe. She was happy to work with him, he could tell. But every time she had a new appearance scheduled with “him”, he could feel her apprehension and reluctancy weeks before the D-day.

He tried to negotiate with the guy in a fancy suit. Maybe what she did was enough already. Maybe it could stop now. They could skip the second step and launch the final one. The happy one. But he “knew his job”, and he had to “trust him.” So David threw himself in the second step. He picked a girl. Young but not really, smart but not really, sweet but not really. The kind of girl everyone expected him to be with, according to fancy-suit.
Oddly, it made Gillian laugh to see whom they had chosen for him. She seemed to have found a second breath. Maybe it’s because they shared the attention now. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she used to tease him. She bought him Viagra once, and they laughed heartedly for an hour.

But soon, it’ll be his turn to play his part more seriously. It’ll be her turn to rely on trust. To live without watching, reading, listening. Soon, they won’t live in their own bubble anymore. There won’t be no apartment where they can hold each other at night, no trailer where they can have a few minutes break just the two of them, no private places where they can talk through all of this. He hopes with all his heart they can make it to the final step but he’s afraid of what will be left of them and how long it’ll take to rebuild the new shape of their relationship.
“It’s gonna be easy,” he lies in her ear as she falls asleep in his arms.

alienbaby-babymama:

youokay-mulder:

Rayford Hollywood Goes Secret Birthday

August 10, 2015

*** “There was also Gillian Anderson with the oldest of her children and … also celebrating her birthday! Anyone would say that instead of shooting a new season this trio met simply to sing happy birthday.”

Anyone want to properly translate this column for me??

La verdad está ahí fuera, que dirían algunos. Y Raimundo Hollywood estuvo allí celebrándola. Hablo del cumpleaños de David Duchovny, amigo ya desde hace años después de tanto ‘Expediente X’ y junto al que hemos envejecido todo este tiempo. 55 años como 55 soles que me cumplió.Una edad que se tomó con buen humor, pastel de zanahoria y mi compañía.

Eso sí, siguiendo la norma habitual, le vimos rodeado de todo el secreto del mundo porque le pillamos en el rodaje de la nueva temporada de ‘Expediente X’, la serie hecha película hecha ahora serie limitada de 6 episodios. Ni el propio David Lynch lo haría tan retorcido. ¡Ah! ¡Sí! Que nuestro amigo Lynch está haciendo lo mismo con su Laura Palmer…. ¡Es que ya no hay ideas originales en Hollywood!

Lo dicho, que no puedo es contar mucho, mejor dicho nada o me cortan las piernas. Que nos volvimos a ver todos en Vancouver, Canadá. Y cuando digo todos, digo todos porque allí estaba Chris Carter, el hombre que parió esta serie de culto y que de tanto pensar hasta le ha cambiado hasta la cara, con esa aletita de tiburón que se me ha dejado por flequillo en lugar del peinado a lo Ted Dawson que me llevaba en los 90. Pero eran otros años.

También estaba Gillian Anderson con el mayor de sus hijos y… ¡celebrando también su cumpleaños!Cualquiera diría que en lugar de rodar una nueva temporada este trío se reunió simplemente para cantarse el cumpleaños feliz. Peores razones hay en el mundo del reboot, reimagining, renacimiento o como lo quieras llamar.

Pero a este cumple no nos quedamos que no había gambas y teníamos que asistir en Los Angeles al cumpleaños del mismísimo Snoopy que se celebraba ese mismo día.

I’m loving Gs hand in the top pic taking a pic of D blowing out his candle. 😆😍

Gillovny prompt for you jhh: I remember you said you have a denial theory that Gillovny is doing all that with PM and MP so they can come out later as a new couple and the press won’t ask about their past. Could you maybe turn this theory into a fanfic? Thank you! <3

justholdinghandsok:

It’s been a year since they agreed on this. The decision was made quickly, he feels like he didn’t even have his word to say. They expressed their desire to come out, they explained their worries, some guy in a five fingers black suit found a solution in three steps. “Easy,” he said. Gillian said “yes,” his lawyer signed a paper, her lawyer signed it too, they shook hands and it was done. “Easy,” he repeated to himself.

It was “easy,” at least in the beginning. They found the perfect guy, British but not really, divorced but not really, the type of guy she could be attracted to. But not really. He felt odd when he had to let her go with him the first time, but he got used to it. It was the first step, his own first step, actually. He had to learn to share. Ceremony after ceremony, he had to watch the love of his life show herself with another man.

Jealous would be an understatement to define him. He’s possessive, territorial even. But her sweet words and soft touches never failed to reassure him. He was the one and the only one for her. He convinced himself that he could live like that a little more. It was for the best. Even after a certain day of June, when she called him in tears to apologize for what she called “an unfortunate accident”, he still thought it was the right thing to do. It was his turn to reassure her, to tell her it was okay and to renew his trust in her.

But if he was being honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t okay. Something has changed between them, and he feared it was forever. He made it to a new step. He had to learn to live without watching, reading, listening, caring. He had to rely on trust and only on trust, even though when he closed his eyes at night, this picture haunted his dreams turning them into terrible nightmares. Even today, when he finds himself on his knees in a moment of pure intimacy, with his hands on her hips, he has to take a deep breath and chase the ghost of Italy away before he strips her down. She knows, he can see it. He can tell that her lips say “I love you,” but her eyes say “I’m sorry.” They usually take twenty-five years to resolve their issues and he isn’t sure they have twenty-five more years to resolve this one. It was supposed to make them happier, to allow them to live their life normally, as a couple and as individuals too. But it’s consuming them slowly from the inside. Day after day, the sparkle in her eyes faded. Her smile became sad. Her demeanor more severe. She was happy to work with him, he could tell. But every time she had a new appearance scheduled with “him”, he could feel her apprehension and reluctancy weeks before the D-day.

He tried to negotiate with the guy in a fancy suit. Maybe what she did was enough already. Maybe it could stop now. They could skip the second step and launch the final one. The happy one. But he “knew his job”, and he had to “trust him.” So David threw himself in the second step. He picked a girl. Young but not really, smart but not really, sweet but not really. The kind of girl everyone expected him to be with, according to fancy-suit.
Oddly, it made Gillian laugh to see whom they had chosen for him. She seemed to have found a second breath. Maybe it’s because they shared the attention now. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she used to tease him. She bought him Viagra once, and they laughed heartedly for an hour.

But soon, it’ll be his turn to play his part more seriously. It’ll be her turn to rely on trust. To live without watching, reading, listening. Soon, they won’t live in their own bubble anymore. There won’t be no apartment where they can hold each other at night, no trailer where they can have a few minutes break just the two of them, no private places where they can talk through all of this. He hopes with all his heart they can make it to the final step but he’s afraid of what will be left of them and how long it’ll take to rebuild the new shape of their relationship.
“It’s gonna be easy,” he lies in her ear as she falls asleep in his arms.

abbycorasmom:

Seriously, what is with The Gillovnys and being accident prone?! 😂😂😂😂

Gillovny prompt for you jhh: I remember you said you have a denial theory that Gillovny is doing all that with PM and MP so they can come out later as a new couple and the press won’t ask about their past. Could you maybe turn this theory into a fanfic? Thank you! <3

It’s been a year since they agreed on this. The decision was made quickly, he feels like he didn’t even have his word to say. They expressed their desire to come out, they explained their worries, some guy in a five fingers black suit found a solution in three steps. “Easy,” he said. Gillian said “yes,” his lawyer signed a paper, her lawyer signed it too, they shook hands and it was done. “Easy,” he repeated to himself.

It was “easy,” at least in the beginning. They found the perfect guy, British but not really, divorced but not really, the type of guy she could be attracted to. But not really. He felt odd when he had to let her go with him the first time, but he got used to it. It was the first step, his own first step, actually. He had to learn to share. Ceremony after ceremony, he had to watch the love of his life show herself with another man.

Jealous would be an understatement to define him. He’s possessive, territorial even. But her sweet words and soft touches never failed to reassure him. He was the one and the only one for her. He convinced himself that he could live like that a little more. It was for the best. Even after a certain day of June, when she called him in tears to apologize for what she called “an unfortunate accident”, he still thought it was the right thing to do. It was his turn to reassure her, to tell her it was okay and to renew his trust in her.

But if he was being honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t okay. Something has changed between them, and he feared it was forever. He made it to a new step. He had to learn to live without watching, reading, listening, caring. He had to rely on trust and only on trust, even though when he closed his eyes at night, this picture haunted his dreams turning them into terrible nightmares. Even today, when he finds himself on his knees in a moment of pure intimacy, with his hands on her hips, he has to take a deep breath and chase the ghost of Italy away before he strips her down. She knows, he can see it. He can tell that her lips say “I love you,” but her eyes say “I’m sorry.” They usually take twenty-five years to resolve their issues and he isn’t sure they have twenty-five more years to resolve this one. It was supposed to make them happier, to allow them to live their life normally, as a couple and as individuals too. But it’s consuming them slowly from the inside. Day after day, the sparkle in her eyes faded. Her smile became sad. Her demeanor more severe. She was happy to work with him, he could tell. But every time she had a new appearance scheduled with “him”, he could feel her apprehension and reluctancy weeks before the D-day.

He tried to negotiate with the guy in a fancy suit. Maybe what she did was enough already. Maybe it could stop now. They could skip the second step and launch the final one. The happy one. But he “knew his job”, and he had to “trust him.” So David threw himself in the second step. He picked a girl. Young but not really, smart but not really, sweet but not really. The kind of girl everyone expected him to be with, according to fancy-suit.
Oddly, it made Gillian laugh to see whom they had chosen for him. She seemed to have found a second breath. Maybe it’s because they shared the attention now. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she used to tease him. She bought him Viagra once, and they laughed heartedly for an hour.

But soon, it’ll be his turn to play his part more seriously. It’ll be her turn to rely on trust. To live without watching, reading, listening. Soon, they won’t live in their own bubble anymore. There won’t be no apartment where they can hold each other at night, no trailer where they can have a few minutes break just the two of them, no private places where they can talk through all of this. He hopes with all his heart they can make it to the final step but he’s afraid of what will be left of them and how long it’ll take to rebuild the new shape of their relationship.
“It’s gonna be easy,” he lies in her ear as she falls asleep in his arms.

I know, he thought, in less than one month it will be over again. She goes back to her world, her city, her things, her life. And all the will remains will be the memory of those times, these beautiful – and secret -hours we’ve spent together between a take and another. A linger touch on my bare back, her nails on me, caressing, scratching and caressing again. And her perfume. Her scent will haunt me and I don’t know what to do with myself 1

No. I know what I’ll do. Probably write a couple of lyrics about her in a cryptic way so no one is going to know that they are about her, but I will know and so will she. She always knows. She knows me so well. I’ll put her in my books, in my songs because she lives in me, she’s underneath my skin so deeply that I doubt that even death can tear us apart. I don’t know what to do with myself. So I put my deadpan face again. I smile and make jokes and everybody laughs but the truth is that her absence pains me in so many levels. And I have no choice but hold on and keep going with my life. A few weeks and it will be over again. And I’ll be back to my music and my books and my projects. And she flies aways. Away from me. Away from us. Would she come back? Ow it’s time for another scenes. I let the character take over me one more time hoping that it won’t be our last time together.

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