Original fic here!
If Murphy had his way, he’d never actually leave grad school.
It’s not so much that grad school is so great and more that once he leaves grad school, he needs something else to do, and that’s a terrifying prospect. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have a future in academia, not with how much better everyone else in academia is at the whole thing than he is, and he can’t just coast on Jaha thinking he’s brilliant forever. And if he’s not in academia, he doesn’t know what else to do. Somehow, horrifyingly, that’s all he knows.
“Maybe a self-help book,” says Emori. “Isn’t that how people with philosophy degrees and no other skills make money?”
“I think we just starve to death,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to have an existential crisis, but it might be unavoidable.
“I still don’t know why you’re so convinced you can’t get a job here,” Emori says. “Jaha isn’t the only one in the department who likes you.”
“Yeah, but can you imagine me as a teacher? Fuck, I don’t want to have the read the bullshit I write, fuck student papers. TAing was a nightmare, and I don’t want to publish research.”
“If only they had an open position for a visionary.”
“I think that’s Jaha too.” He huffs. “You got an idea for that self-help book? I think it only works if I’m actually successful.”
“You have a PhD and minimal student debt. That’s success to many.”
“Probably better to just skip it and be a bartender,” he grumbles, and she kisses his forehead.
“We might be hiring.”
“Awesome, keep me posted.”
THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE FICS EVER AHSJFKAJDKAKNS
Question of Smoke 