for your consideration
david duchovny singing an acoustic cover of “trumpets” by jason derulo to gillian anderson.
Every time that you get undressed
I hear symphonies in my head
I wrote this song just looking at you ooh, oh…Is it weird that I hear
Angels every time that you moan?
The tweet Gillian Anderson will be tweeting soon (probably)
@davidduchovny hope the tour is going well. Don’t invite anyone else onstage to bang your tambourine. That’s my job ;)
icedteainthebag
Someone out there has had sex with both Tea Leoni and Gillian Anderson.
f*ck you, Duchovny
mulderswaterbed
perplexistan
Mulder and Scully may be experts at sleuthing out alien technologies — but staying healthy, not so much.
X-Files stars Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny showed off their respective injuries at Monday night’s Webby Awards in New York City. With his arm in a sling, Duchovny awarded the evening’s best actress trophy to Anderson, who needed crutches to walk to the podium.
“This is sad,” Duchovny joked as he and Anderson embraced onstage.
Before their Webbys date, the duo reunited earlier in the day at Fox’s upfronts event.
Anderson ditched her crutches to pose with Duchovny during Monday’s events, but used them for assistance on the red carpet at Sunday’s BAFTA Television Awards in London.
While Duchovny hasn’t offered an explanation for his sling, Anderson joked about her injury on Instagram, posting a shot of her boot. “My Stormtrooper look,” she wrote.
Hopefully, the two stars will be in better health by this summer, when the X-Files begins filming its new 10-episode season, slated for a 2018 premiere.
Another Song
Her phone buzzes. Meet me. The nights are better with you.
She laughs and considers her response for a moment. Are you writing another song about me, David Duchovny?
His response is lightning fast. I’m not, but maybe I should. If I sing to you, will you meet me?
Tempting. But what if I am already in my pajamas? Make me an offer.
So she doesn’t spend too much time obsessing over how long it is taking him to respond, she starts washing her face, brushing her teeth.
What do you want?
All that waiting, and that’s the best he came up with? Maybe he’s slipping. She decides to let him sweat for awhile. She checks her Twitter, considers mentioning him in a tweet and remembers she’s letting him squirm. She smiles at the image of him checking his phone every few seconds.
Chocolate.
Is that all?
That’s not all.
The hotel room is a little too warm, or is it her imagination? She turns the thermostat temperature down.
I forget. Where are you this weekend? he asks.
Her mind turns itself over several times. She knows he knows full well where she is staying. When she doesn’t respond right away, her phone buzzes again.
Room 211?
When she looks out the peephole he is there, guitar in hand.
“Let me in, or I’ll serenade you from the hallway.”
“What if that is what I want?” she laughs through her words.
She hears him play the opening of Wonderwall, sees his smile grow wider in the fish eye of the peephole, and opens the door.
We’re going to die soon so we might as well be friends,
Gillian Anderson on David Duchovny, Salt Lake Comic Con 2016 (x)
I don’t want them to die soon D:
(via synchronict)
-“The friend zone doesn’t exist after forty.”
-Caitlin in“A Vision of Fire”
(via somekindofseizure)
Gillian breathed heavily, her head resting on David’s chest.
“I should have jogged. Running after monsters is tough when you’re old and out of shape.”
“You’re not old,” he offered, pausing.
“But I’m out of shape,” she said, still panting.
“You still look amazing naked,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “More amazing, maybe. I’d have to look again, just to be sure.”