#because who the fuck can't just finish a stupid masters degree

[tardis--dreams]

I should finish my masters. I know it would be better. A bachelor is virtually worthless here. But god it's tempting to just quit :(

[fastcardotmp3]

Thinking about Eddie and how it probably takes him some time to figure out what he wants from life after having his whole worldview sent toppling and very nearly dying in an alternate dimension.

Like after he gets his GED it's odd jobs and moving town to town looking for a place that isn't put off when they do a background check and find out what he'd been accused of (no matter that he was cleared of all charges) and it's changing his last name and just surviving for a while rather than chasing down any sort of passion projects.

Maybe he tries the music thing out a few years in, figuring people probably care less about who's playing a gig so long as they know their way around a guitar, but he's still young and stupid and traumatized and it becomes very clear to everyone putting in the effort to stay in touch with him that he's about to be taken majorly advantage of by the industry so that's kind of a bust. He gets out as fast as he can, can't face the reality of his name ending up in the press anymore than it already has for Wayne's sake as much as his own.

And it's hard. It's messy and it's survival and it's just a lot for a guy who never really planned to still be alive this many years after that guitar solo in the Upside Down but he has to stop running around the country at some point and hey, Chicago's as good a place as any right?

Robin's working on her Master's out there and Nancy's at the Herald kind of kicking all kinds of journalistic ass. Steve just finished up his degree after floundering a bit like Eddie for a few years there when all the head trauma caught up to him and chronic tinnitus finally started turning into hearing loss and he's working at a school for HOH and Deaf kids now, genuinely actually thriving.

And Eddie feels a little bit like he's still the third-try senior at Hawkins High because what has he done? Lots of false starts and changed minds and spontaneous moves cross-country because he got too restless being in one place for too long, what has he really done?

He moves to Chicago, though, gets a job at a bookstore which is really far from the worst gig he's had in the past five or six years and it also just so happens to only be a handful of blocks away from the Art Institute where he happens to know one of the top undergrads.

The first time Will Byers comes in it might as well be because Steve is dragging him by the ear, because Eddie's only lived here three weeks but Steve has spent every day of that time making sure Eddie is getting settled and acclimated and has people. Almost like he's worried about Eddie leaving again.

Almost like he wants Eddie to stay.

And he drags Will Byers into the bookstore, eggs them into catching up outside of the Monster Hunter Reunions Joyce tries to make happen around major holidays. And then he does it again. And again.

It's Steve and Will bringing him lunch or bringing him coffee when it starts getting cold in the windy city and Eddie is loathe to admit it, but it's nice. It's not some big revelation, it's not Eddie's chance to change the world or anything, but he's got people around who keep making him aware that they're around and he's more settled than he's maybe ever been.

And then one day it's--

"Hey, Byers, you tell Ed about that thing you've been working on?"

If Eddie's hands weren't busy designing a killer fantasy display (if he does say so himself) he would be noticing the sly smugness in Steve's shoulders. He would know this was a set-up. He would just know.

The thing Will is working on is a graphic novel.

The thing Will is working on is a fucking metal ass premise of a graphic novel, taking no shortage of inspiration from the kid's quite frankly too insane for fiction experiences while still somehow putting so much of his own voice into it and Eddie is obsessed, Eddie is enthralled, Eddie is--

"Would you mind giving me feedback sometime? It's just-- I've got all these ideas, but I never know how to streamline them. You were always so good at that as a DM-- making everything make sense, you know?"

On that day, Eddie is mostly just honored that Will sees him for more than a guy without any formal creative writing education and trusts him enough to look at his work.

A matter of weeks later, Eddie is somehow not just giving feedback, he's basically a co-author. They use the big empty wall above Eddie's couch in his tiny studio apartment for storyboards and beat notes and it's on accident, the way Eddie finds this thing he loves.

Except for the fact that it's only an accident for him.

"You're such a fucking meddler, you know that?" he says to Steve over beers at Steve's apartment one Friday afternoon after gushing over Will's new art drafts for the book for approximately 45 minutes straight.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steve smirks, not even trying to hide it.

"Oh, come on. Will told me he came to you asking if you thought I'd be interested in helping out and you came up with this elaborate slow-burn plan. The gig is up, Harrington, I'm in your head."

Steve just telegraphs his movement as he reaches up and shuts off his hearing aid, "Sorry, I can't hear you, man. Maybe if you wrote it in a book for me, drew some pictures--"

Who would really blame Eddie for kissing him on the mouth?

Someone needs to shut that guy up every once in a while.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Here’s a real challenge (at least it’d be for me): Hambone x Crosby

(cw: Vomit [because the bag of fail is important to the narrative])

Hambone bites his lip as he watches Crosby walk into the officer's club, then make his way across the room to Bubbles.

"You gotta do something about this crush," Douglass says. "You just whimpered."

"Fuck you, I did not," Hambone replies.

"Okay, you didn't, but it was implied."

Hambone turns back to Douglass and shrugs. "I don't know. I'm just some guy from Kansas. What's that mean to a guy like Crosby?"

"Ham, he popped a bag of vomit on you. If anything, you outclass him."

"He was getting a master's degree before the war," Ham says. "In Literature."

"So?"

"I got through high school," Hambone says.

Douglass waves away his tone. "He's got four years on you, Ham. Shit. If you had four years on him you'd probably have been getting a master's degree in...whatever they get in Kansas."

"Pig-fucking," Hambone says without thinking because he knows it'll make Douglass laugh. It does. Hambone grins.

"Go over and tell him that joke," Douglass says, giving Ham's shoulder a shove. "If he doesn't laugh, I'll kick his ass."

"You would not. You're soft as butter on a summer counter."

"Nah, I'm tough when I need to be." Douglass throws an arm around Ham's shoulders. "That's why you and me drop those big beauties on the Krauts."

Ham leans into Douglass's one-armed hug. "Yeah, suppose it is."

*

"Is he looking at me again?" Crosby asks. He feels like he can feel every bead of sweat on his hairline.

"Sure is," Bubbles says, not trying to hide his grin. "I don't get it, Croz. What's so scary about Ham you can't just tell him you're sweet on him?"

"Which part of 'I slammed my hand on a bag of my own vomit and got it all over him' don't you understand?"

"The part where he's never brought it up and still always makes an effort to say hi and ask how you're doing. My mama would call that courting behavior." Bubbles laughs at the way Crosby stares at him, big disbelieving eyes. "He's sweet on you," he says.

"He is not," Crosby says.

Bubbles shakes his head. "He looks at you like all he wants is to hold your hand and tell you how much he likes you."

"Shut. Up." Crosby's blush is spectacularly pink, even in the dim lights of the officer's club.

"He does," Bubbles says. "Lordy loo, Croz, you know how loud your own head gets at you. Go against it for once. Trust that someone who knows you knows what they see."

Crosby grimaces. "It's not that I don't trust--"

"Gonna get a fresh drink," Bubbles interrupts.

Crosby stares at him, shocked at the rudeness. Bubbles doesn't cut off conversations like this.

"Hey, Harry," Hambone says.

Crosby jumps and is silently grateful his drink is resting on the ledge next to him. Then he bounces against the wall, and his glass starts to wobble. He waits in terrified anticipation for it to hit the ground.

"Ope," Hambone says, and he grabs the glass in one hand before it can topple. He lifts it from the ledge and offers it to Crosby. "Here," he says.

Crosby can feel the heat of his blush and wants to sink into the shadows. "Thanks," he manages, taking the glass from Hambone. "Nice save."

"Bombardier reflexes," Hambone says, and his grin shifts into something a little sharper. Something Crosby might call flirty if he was a little braver.

"How are you?" Crosby asks, then winces. "Oh, shit, that was a stupid question."

Hambone chuckles. "Nah, it's nice," he says. "I like that about you, that you're nice."

Crosby stares at Hambone for a long moment, heart fluttery and hopeful in his chest. "Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," Ham says. "In fact, I was hoping to ask you a question because you're nice."

Crosby nods. "Sure."

"Well, I know you were getting a master's degree before you joined up, but I'd only just finished high school, so I was wondering if I would go to college for any of the Kansas majors, what would you recommend?"

"Kansas majors?"

"Yeah. We've got three. Corn. Wheat. Pig-fucking."

Crosby blinks, then laughs. He nearly drops his drink, but then Hambone's hand is coming under his to offer a little extra support. "Well, being from Iowa, I know a lot about the first two, but we really go for Cow-fucking as our third option, so I can't say much to the Pig-fucking options in Kansas."

Hambone grins wide, and Crosby knows without question that Bubbles was--as usual--right, and his own brain was--as usual--too fucking loud.

"We should go into town one night to discuss it," Hambone says, leaning in closer. "Someplace a little quieter so we can hear each other."

Crosby beams and nods. "Yeah," he says. "I like that idea."

*

(if you don't know, 'ope' is a common verbalization amongst midwesterners; enough so that I clearly picked it up from my midwestern parents while growing up in the south.)

[sachermorte]

not to be emo on main or anything but every time my grandmother sends me her obligatory annual facebook message telling me she "doesn't have long left" and accusing me of "abandoning my responsibility" so I can go be a tranny in Europe I just get irrationally angry. what responsibility? what responsibility do I have to go back and detransition and let them kick me around and have four children and god knows what else? that's not my fucking job.

every time I see life updates from people I went to high school with in kentucky I get cold sweats and have to go lay down. out of my father's three (that we know of lmao) children, one of my brothers copes through substance abuse and unprotected sex, one of them copes through holding down a dead-end job and watching sports and playing video games all day, and I threw myself into my bachelor's and leaving the country screaming the second I got my degree. all three of us drink more than is strictly healthy. I've spent all my adult life HERE. and she's like "you need to stop running away to germany* and come back to the family"

* I do not live in germany. I have never lived in germany. you could not pay me to live in germany

I was so desperate to get away from the tar pit I grew up in that I launched myself across an ocean with no monetary and very little moral support (although the people who mattered came around within like a month when they saw how happy I was)

Every stupid turn of events in the past few years I've handled entirely on my own so I would never, ever have to go back. my mother told me to never come back home because she doesn't want anything to happen to me. because she loves me. because this is where my life is and this is where I'm happy, and I would be here even if it weren't dangerous for me to go back to where I grew up. a great amount of stress is dedicated to exactly how I'm going to stay here after I finish my master's because I'm not going back even if they stop giving me visas. the only way I'm leaving vienna is in a body bag.

anyway she ended it with "I can't believe how selfish you're being" and I replied with "I do it for the love of the craft" and blocked her

[muchblogmuchwow]

04:24 AM - Can't sleep again -

I've only had nightmares the past month and I'm so fucking done with everything. The slightest misunderstanding or anything that hurts me drives me into having nightmares. I remember every single one and i can't get them out of my head. I feel so fucking lost and alone. I really can't remember the last time I genuinely felt happy about something. I can't even form normal sentences without breaking my head at this point. I feel stupid just talking because I think there's only incoherent sentences coming out of my mouth. I wish I had someone to talk to who genuinely cares. My communication skills are...gone. i don't know why...some have noticed it, some are pulling away from me and some are gaslighting me why I'm not writing them back or just tell them anything at this point. I doubt anyone will get me...i don't even know myself at this point.

I've been going to the gym and i really enjoyed it but the last month has been hell for me. I've got no motivation and feel so powerless. My mom's health has gotten worse. I spent some time with her today but she was in a lot of pain. It's heart breaking seeing her like that. I'll go to the clinic with her tomorrow and hope for the best. Other then that I've realized how fucked the next couple of month will be. I've got one month to basically finish my Bachelor thesis. I've got 20 pages and I'll need 65 at the end. I need to learn for 4 more exams while writing my thesis. I don't know how to handle all that stress.

I'm searching for a new university for my master's degree... but I just can't find the time nor mental power to actually find one. I've only got 2 places that I'll apply to so far. At this point I'm not even sure that the path I took is the right one in life. Sure, I'll have a six figure job at the end but I doubt that I'll be happy. I need to find a new apartment too. I'm happy that a close friend has offered me his help instantly. I just can't ask people for help because I don't want to burden anyone with my problems. I want to go to Australia and do my master degree there but I don't have the money nor do I want to leave the people I care about here in germany. It's like when I'm gone I'll just lose the connection with them and i won't be able to reconnect it. I'm already losing the connection with some people I was hella close with and that is breaking my heart.

Not sure if I'll go to bed at this point and stay up for two-three days again. I just want to lean on a shoulder or chest and hear that everythings gonna be alright. I always wear my heart on my sleeve but i don't want to do that anymore. It just hurts.

I think I'll go outside and drive around. That's the only thing that makes me somewhat happy at this point because it's like she's speaking to me without any words.

I doubt anyone will read that this post from an anxious hopeless romantic idiot who can't think straight. To anyone else who's made it this far..thanks for listening to me. It really means something to me.

[lesmiserablables]

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