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hello. this will surprise no-one but jim is now on an indefinite hiatus. i wanted to make some big, emotional statement but the truth is- i’m tired. i’m so very tired. and stressed. school is a constant concern. i only have so much time to roleplay, and i choose to use that time with a small, very closed circle in another fandom.

i want to thank everyone for making my last two-ish years here a great time. i learnt a lot from everyone here, and i look back on my time in this community largely with fondness.

if you wish to contact me, my personal is @jimouthy.

i won’t say this is goodbye. a large part of me will always belong to jim. i’m not sure i could ever convey how much he ( and bones, and spock ) have helped me personally during this time. i may come back in the future, i’m definitely not closing the door forever. but right now, jim is quiet. i think the guy deserves a rest after all his hard work.

so...for now-- love rhys. llap. kirk out.

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Мне приперло в голову нарисовать его побитым…не спрашивайте почему)

I just wanted to draw him a bit beaten up…and yeah, not only capitan’s uniform can get ripped.

Sorry for my english

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astromed replied to your post: i have written 2 short asks and 2 short replies...

look at u GO

look at me STOP ‘cause that’s all i kept on this blog.

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i have written 2 short asks and 2 short replies and that’s the most i’ve written in months.

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astromed:

he’s lucky enough to get a free pass at ignoring the instructor — sonny, you’re gonna need to buck up.   space won’t wait for your nerves to settle — thanks to the timely emptying of his stomach onto jim’s surprisingly polished cadet boots.      fuck that.      ‘yeah,’      he mutters, voice hoarse and weak.      ‘couldn’t’a gone any   worse.   sorry .. ‘bout your shoes.’        

          “nothin’ a hose can’t fix.” his hand clapped good naturedly to his friend’s shoulder, pausing a moment to read the bookings board. getting bones back in there any time soon wasn’t gonna happen, no matter the poking or prodding. he could see it now. “well. guess we’ll have to figure out how to get you over that academic bump.”

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fasciinating:

spock picks up and spreads the cards between the vice of his fingers like a row of perfect teeth. each placement of the heavy specialized paper, painstakingly precise, even, despite its function to disorganization. he would need to adjust them in nearly every turn most likely. but it is a habit, he REALIZES, he cannot seem to prevent, nor does he want to.  at the REQUEST, spock surveys his hand. a quick pass over white, black, and red before revealing nothing with the straight shot of his reply.                                    ❝ go fish. ❞   he says it dryly. the tiny phrase, clear. and what might have been a jab if not for the soft crunch of his brow. inner points, drawn together. thinking about the deeper meaning to the words. spock disregards it as a function of poetry. no metaphor or double meaning worth comparison to socrates but he finds it FASCINATING, nonetheless.       ❝  sixes, captain? ❞

          loose, haphazard, but somehow still ordered, jim’s cards shifted in his grip as he considered them. even if he didn’t win the game- a real possibility, considering how little skill really mattered in the game- he still considered it a victory over all. after all, he had spock playing a game commonly considered ‘for children’ and that knowledge alone was enough to give him the warm glow of victory.

          that or the fever was getting worse. it could be either.

          a sigh and he plucked the card free, sliding it across to his first officer, and eyed the rest of his cards.

          “you get to ask again,” he explained, covering a sniffle with the crook of his arm. “since you got one.” for a moment his fingers drummed, curiosity rising like it always did. “spock, do vulcans have card games of their own?”

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a - choo ! there it is. the cold of the century. doctor down !

          at this point of their friendship, being covered in mccoy’s mucus didn’t even really phase him. which was a weird metric for measuring friendship when you stopped to think about it, but it seemed only- well- logical when your best friend was the best doctor in the ‘fleet. instead he just made a mental note to change his shirt and volunteer for the next booster shot.

          “that was a biggun. go sit down, bones. i’ll grab the tissues.”

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scratches his head.

          “--if you think you can win me over with a bit of head scritching dr mccoy, you are-” one-hundred percent right, but he doesn’t say the words out loud; instead he shifted on his seat to press into the touch more, eyes slit with pleasure. “damn. magic, i say. if we were in a different time, you’d be burned at the stake. i meant that as a compliment.”

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i’m going to go shopping then i’m gonna come home, make some goddamn tea, and then coerce jim into doing stuff.

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Love In A Cold World Beastmilk Climax (2013)

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I wanted to tell you everything. And that hurt because some things were too scary. Some things even I didn’t understand.

Jay Asher, Thirteen Reasons Why (via wordsnquotes)

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astromed replied to your post: astromed replied to your post: ...

payback for the time jim sneezed a snot rocket all over mccoy

which was payback for being drenched in bones’ mucus. such a sneezy boy.

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astromed replied to your post: astromed replied to your post: ...

besties for life tho right

amazingly, despite the sheer amount of bodily fluids they’ve sprayed onto each other over the years.

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astromed replied to your post: am i here? am i not? who knows! but i’m going to...

did mccoy throw up on him

winner winner chicken dinner

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kirkcut:

am i here? am i not? who knows! but i’m going to sort through stuff.

anyway, i’ve ditched all the old memes in my drafts and threads i know i don’t have muse for. all that’s left are a couple of random asks, one draft for @astromed​ who totally owes jim some boot cleaner, and one spock, two spock.

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am i here? am i not? who knows! but i’m going to sort through stuff.