you now know my coworker

When all your friends are posting pics with their significant other for Valentine’s Day but you’re still single

My Coworker Tumblr Joe

So most of you probably know about my coworker, who I’ll now call Tumblr Joe, who hates white, straight men, and thinks capitalism is the worst thing to happen to the world.  Well we’re used to him shit talking white men, and he yells at people when they say words he doesn’t like (i.e. he complained when our sup said cracker, why I still don’t know). 

Today it’s -7 degrees Fahrenheit here so a bit before the end of our shift my boyfriend grabbed my keys and went to start up the car.  When he comes back inside he says, “I think my external man bits have become internal lady bits.”

When he gets back to his desk though he sees a little message from Joe saying, “That comment was transphobic. :(”

Fucking what?  How?  Either someone needs to explain the transphobia to me or someone needs to explain what testicles, ovaries, and shrinkage is to Joe, because one of us is missing something. 

the feel of solid ground

(according to microsoft word i haven’t touched this since december 2. or: sometimes i write things and get super critical and perfectionist-y and they never see the light of day. but, given the finale, i felt like this was worth bringing out. no spoilers, not canon - but not quite an au - i dunno. it would maybe fit somewhere in 4a, if frozen hadn’t happened - i took liberties, basically. 

but have some emma leaves storybrooke - and killian - angst. inspired by the song ‘so anyway’ from the musical next to normal, which you should most definitely go listen to here.) 

so anyway,

i’m leaving.           

i thought you’d like to know.

-

The words hang in the air after she says them and she almost wants to take them back but she can’t. Doesn’t want to. She meant it, she—

            “So you’ve made up your mind then,” he says finally. She bites her lip, unsure of how to respond. He meets her eyes, then, and the look on his face makes her want to close the distance between them, soothe him, take it back, it’s okay, it’s okay. But she stays where she is. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”

            She shakes her head in agreement. He sighs, nodding, looking away again. She blinks back the tears.

            “It’s not forever,” she tells him. “I just—”

            “You don’t need to justify it, love.”

            But she does, doesn’t she? To him, if no one else.

            And she needs him to know—she needs to make sure he understands.

            “It’s not you, okay?” And God, it’s such a cliché, but it’s true. “I’m—it’s me, and I just—”

            He doesn’t interrupt her, doesn’t take her into his arms. Just remains where he is, eyes trained on the floor, seated on the edge of the bed. (Their bed.)

(Not anymore.)

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