#there are many valid ways to stop watching txf

[rosenkranz-does-things]

saw a post that was like "I dropped the x files because I'm too gay to be into msr" and was so surprised but then remembered that not everyone has seen the light of the truth (they're a butch/femme couple)

the photo that inspired this is under the cut

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

literally almost every single episode of the walking dead, with the exception of like, bottle episodes, the exact same spoiler freakout narrative happens, and then the episode airs and it's fine. every time. every single time i've witnessed it, the freakout has always been blown way out of proportion in comparison to what is on the screen. and i'm genuinely not shitting on anyone here, bc ik ppl who have been here longer have been through the ringer re: s6-8, but like. if it happens every. single. time. at what point do you just like, stop listening to the spoiler freakout narrative? do you even enjoy the show anymore at this point?

i explicitly avoid the discourse and it still finds me, and what stresses me out aren't the spoilers themselves, but it's when i see one that ik can and will be taken out of context even a little bit, and i get overwhelmingly anxious for the sheer fact that i know that there is going to be a massive flood of like, real life anger and hatred and fighting that is ALWAYS FINE by the end. i can understand frustration, and i can understand annoyance, but the absolute fury some people have is just. incomprehensible to me. if it's making you that upset then don't watch it. if every week you're like "i'm so done with this show," then mb actually be done with it.

again, i'm not targeting anyone specifically, and i'm definitely not targeting the ppl who get frustrated but don't go out of their way to ruin it for everyone else. your feelings are valid etc. but i'm bummed that i have people on here i actually want to interact with bc it's fun and makes me happy, but there is no way to do that while being 100% free of the bonkers stuff. i could leave social media entirely, but i don't want to bc the ppl that are great are really great, and the good parts of the fandom are really good, but oof y'all. sometimes you make it hard. if things don't happen the way we want them to, we have so many talented artists and writers who can create content that we can immerse ourselves in. that's the thing that's so cool about fandom. it is entirely what you make it. and ik i have a weird bias bc my previous hardcore fandoms are pairings that were never going to be canon regardless (w/ the exception of txf, but that counts as its own hell), so i'm used to living off of the scraps from the source material and then taking it into the fandom where its weaved into gold, but i really don't understand what some of you get out of being here.

idk, there's no real point to this, or any agenda i'm pushing. it just makes me kind of sad

[greekowl87]

Fic: Shopping Expedation

Written for the @txf-prompt-box challenge for September 1st. Mulder shopping for tampons. Oh my. Set early season three.

Mulder could not help but feel overprotective of her. Ever since her abduction six months ago, he vowed to himself to do everything in his power to keep her safe. To the point of annoying her and Scully threatening to shoot him again.

"Mulder, I don't need help!"

He could feel her icy glare from across her apartment from where he sat on her couch. She hobbled awkwardly on the crutches, holding her injured right ankle a few inches about the floor. She hopped across the apartment to sit down next to him on the couch. She groaned in pain as she propped her ankle up on her coffee table under a pillow.

"Scully, you sprained your ankle, your right ankle, mind you, which is your driving ankle. How do you think you'll drive?"

"With my left foot."

"Okay? What about your groceries?"

"Slow and steady wins the race."

"You'll exhaust yourself, fall over, and injury something else."

"And whose fault is it again that I sprained my ankle?"

"I did not tell you to run in heels. Besides, what did the doctor say? You have a severe sprain and you need to stay off your feet."

"Need I remind you that I am a medical doctor?"

"Yeah, but most of your patients are dead."

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. It was not that she was not grateful for the help. She was. Scully was just too stubborn and prideful. She had declined to stay at her mother's during her recovery, stressing she was perfectly capable of staying in her own apartment. But it was difficult for her. She just would never admit it. As soon as she came home though, Mulder was there in the hour, insisting on taking care of her. It was an improvement over the three a.m. phone calls and she did enjoy his company. They had grown closer as partners and friends since her abduction. But what he was doing now was down right suffocating.

"Mulder, you're worse than my mother."

"I'm your partner and partners help each other out."

"It's a sprained ankle. I'm fine, Mulder."

"Come on, Scully, just swallow your pride and humor me. It just me doing your grocery shopping. How hard can it be? Please? Just let me help you, if not for you, but my own sake? I cannot go on knowing you lack adequate groceries."

She sighed as he jutted out his lower lip, giving her his best puppy dog look. She could not refuse him, especially when he looked at her like that. "Fine," she consented. "Let me get you my card."

. . . .

Grocery shopping is an easy task, Mulder mused. He pulled the shopping cart out and entered the Giant that was close to her apartment. He looked at the list in his hand, each item on its own line in her neat cursive. Milk, eggs, bread (Hawaiian kind), pasta, bananas, cereal, tampons. He winced slightly at the last item before shrugging. How hard could it be?

Turns out, not that hard at all. Milk was easy. He had seen the gallon of 2% milk in her fridge nearly empty earlier and remembered she often used half and half in her coffee at the office, so he grabbed both. Easy. Eggs and bread. A piece of cake. Pasta. He paused at the aisle, wondering if she had a preference. Penne was easy. Everyone like penne. Spaghetti too. Those were the default pastas of any pasta dish. Smiling to himself, he wandered down the aisle a little more and grabbed a box of tortellini, a bag of frozen vegetables, and one of those little packets to make alfredo sauce. She had not said anything about dinner and would probably shoot him in his other shoulder, but he was determined to make her dinner too tonight. Pasta was not that hard. He could make a simple salad as well.

He pushed the cart proudly into the produce aisle and picked up the required bananas on her shopping list and what he assumed the freshest ingredients to make a small salad with their pasta dinner. He wanted to take care of Scully, even if she did not let him. He still felt guilty for her abduction and doing small things like helping her out while she was hurt or just making her a simple dinner validated him and, in his mind, showed her that he cared deeply for her without actually saying it aloud.

Cereal was easy too as he ventured through the other aisles. He even grabbed a chocolate cream pie from the bakery for dessert. Despite all of the success of his shopping expedition, he still had one more stop to make as he came to the dreaded aisle of first aid, bathing products, and feminine hygiene products. He groaned inwardly seeing the many options. Mulder stopped the cart and crossed his arms in serious thought. How hard was it to get tampons? There were different sizes. Different brands making false promises. Others for different days of different flows. It made his head spin.

He was so lost in thought he jumped when he heard a deep voice call behind him in surprise. "Agent Mulder?"

Mulder spun to see no one other than his boss, Assistant Director Skinner, dressed in jeans and worn polo pushing a shopping cart of his own. "Um, sir, what a coincidence running into you here," he stammered, trying to look casual.

Skinner nodded to the shelves on tampons. "Tampax is a good brand to go with. I recommend the everyday flow." He nodded to Mulder. "Have a good weekend, Agent Mulder."

Mulder's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as he grabbed the suggested box and threw it in the cart and made a beeline to the check out aisle. He did his best to try and act casual as the cashier rung up the groceries. He drew out his own money and paid for Scully's groceries and left as quickly as he could.

. . . .

"I see some things that weren't on my list, Mulder." Scully watched him put away her groceries, directing him as needed. "Especially the makings for a salad and that pie. How did you know I liked cream pies anyway?"

He shrugged with a warm smile. "Lucky guess. I figured I could make us dinner tonight and watch a movie or something. That way, you won't burn down your apartment, you can rest and heal, and won't be bored out your mind."

She pursed her lips, debating to argue with him but just smiled instead. "I'd like that a lot, Mulder."

"Oh." He held up the box of tampons for her approval. "Before I forget, did I do good? I mean, I wasn't sure..."

"You got the right ones," she said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Thank you."

He put the offending box back in the paper bag, choosing not to tell Scully who he had encountered at the grocery store. She would have been mortified. "Well, the least I could do," he smiled. "Why don't you pick us out a movie and I'll start on dinner?"

She smiled and nodded in agreement.