it's okay.

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.

look at u GO

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.’        

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.

          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.

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

besties for life tho right

did mccoy throw up on him

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