the cure for what ails ya

If you ask Dean, especially in public or around other hunters, he’ll tell you his favorite place in the world is behind the wheel of his Baby. Riding off to another hunt, gun tucked into his waistband, Sam by his side, and Cas in the back, ready to fight evil. 

And he does love it. It’s where he feels comfortable, like he’s making the biggest difference he can possibly make in a world that often seems beyond help. The reality, however, is something that Dean will admit to himself only occasionally. His favorite place in the world is actually right here, where he currently is. 

The room is a little warm, and he’s defintely a little sweaty after one hell of a workout. Dean’s body is heavy on his memory foam, and he’s maybe minutes from drifting off, but Dean wants more than anything to savor this moment a little longer. Cas is just as warm as he is, but it doesn’t bother Dean in the least that their naked skin is sticking together. He’s tucked into Cas’s arms, and Cas’s wonderful long fingers are tracing nonsensical patterns along the ridges of Dean’s spine. 

“Sleepy?” Cas asks softly. 

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean mumbles. With each inhale and exhale, he’s finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. 

“Go to sleep,” Cas tells him, pressing his lips to Dean’s forehead. “I’ll watch over you.”

Cas’s words bring him comfort like nothing else can, and Dean quits fighting, dropping off into peaceful sleep. 

Day 3 – Goblin

Folks from miles around flock to Gramma Hubbard’s squash garden every year at harvest.  Some say her pumpkin pies and squash soup are enchanted with magical properties and can mysteriously cure illnesses; others insist her home cookin’ is just good for what ails ya.  Though Gramma Hubbard has never revealed her secret recipes to anyone, she can be seen reading from a book of fairy tales to the pumpkins every morning, so maybe the plants just enjoy a good story.


Those bound to the aspect of Life are the universe’s healers. They are concerned with the betterment of themselves and those around them, as well as the onward march of positive progress. Deeply empathetic, they have an intuitive understanding of other’s suffering and the best way of righting those wrongs. If you’re poisoned, chances are the Life-bound have something for what ails ya. This applies to both physical and mental suffering, though it might not be a cure you’ll like. They also have the tendency to put other’s needs before their own, which never ends well for anyone, because the Life-bound can grow bitter if they feel their own self-care has had to be shunted aside. At their best, they are great listeners, caretakers, and nurturers. At their worst, the Life-bound are passive aggressive, and pushy-they’re certain they know best.

Music Series: Coconut by Harry Nilsson

Awhile back I saw a great documentary on AXS-tv about Harry Nilsson and was glued to the lengthy story. Such an interesting person. He was a great songwriter and had many big hits in his time. I’m a lover of all music, for the most part, and his song, Coconut, is one of my favorites of his. I still remember Eddie Murphy and Jeff Garlin singing it in the movie Daddy Daycare, and giggling the entire time.

I’ve always heard a large variety of explanations for what this song was supposed to mean, but I never agreed with them, honestly. My thought on this song is a nod to the term, “Hair of the Dog”. For those of you too young to have even heard that expression, (damn, sometimes I feel old), it’s short for ‘hair of the dog that bit you’, which means, “the best thing for a hangover, or whatever ails you, is to have more of it.” Now, while I personally tend to drink a bit of dill pickle juice for a hangover, many people do believe that a bit of ‘what bit ya’ will cure you. Take it for what it is, a really fun song, and I hope you like my little creative ditty! xo

Link to song on my Spotify playlist called You Are the Reason I Drink, as well as on my Harry Styles Imagines playlist.



Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime
His sister had another one she paid it for the lime
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank ‘em bot’ up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em bot’ up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank 'em bot’ up
She put the lime in the coconut, she call the doctor, woke 'I’m up

“Havin’ fun, babe?” Harry asked, laughing, as you sipped on what could have possibly been your 4th…maybe 5th…coconut rum daiquiri.

“Beautiful time!” you shouted back, a little louder than necessary, but still over the music from the steel drums playing around you. “Thank you for asking me to come with you!”

“‘Course, love,” he replied, kissing your cheek and sipping his own drink. “Think we were both ready for a bit of a holiday, don’t you?”

“Know I was, that’s for damn sure,” you replied, tipping your drink back to catch the end of the liquid floating in the bottom of the glass. “Ready for another!” you said in the direction of the bartender, who smiled and laughed at you enjoying yourself at the party.

“Sweetheart,” Harry giggled, “You’re probably going to be regretting these drinks tomorrow, you know.”

“Nonsense!” you chided. “Not everyday we both have time off work together to travel to a tropical island, enjoying delicious rum, and dancing with strangers! Come on!”

You grabbed Harry’s hand as he laughed at how drunk you were, and the two of you hurried to where the sandy dance floor had just enough space for you to squeeze in and dance along with the others.

Said “doctor, ain’t there nothing’ I can take?”
I said, “doctor, to relieve this belly ache”
I said “doctor, ain’t there nothin’ I can take?’
I said, "doctor, to relieve this belly ache”

You put the lime in the coconut, you drink 'em bot’ together
Put the lime in the coconut and you’ll feel better
Put the lime in the coconut, drink 'em bot’ up
Put the lime in the coconut and call me in the morning”

“Baby?” Harry said softly in your ear. “Hey, love?”

You groaned and placed your hand on your head as he giggled.

“Sweetheart? You doing okay?” he asked quietly with a smile. “Been asleep for quite a long time. Moaning a lot. You all right?”

“Why are you yelling at me?” you whispered.

“Silly woman,” he laughed. “I told you, you’d be regretting all those daiquiris today.”

“You didn’t,” you groaned softly, now both hands on your head.

“I did!” he reprimanded with another laugh.

“Why aren’t you hungover?” you mumbled as you curled up closer to him.

Harry leaned over you and kissed your thumping head. “Because I didn’t drink as much as you did, and you’re a light-weight when it comes to drinking.”

I say wow, to relieve this belly ache
I said “doctor, ain’t there nothing I can take?”
I said, “doctor, ain’t there nothing I can take?”
I said, “doctor, ain’t there nothing I can take?”
I said, “doctor you’re such a silly woman”

“Come on, now,” Harry told you as he pulled back the covers and raised your arms. You groaned as your head swayed. “Get up now, love. Last day here before we fly back. Let’s get some food in you, rehydrate, and enjoy the rest of our time here before it’s gone.” He kissed you sweetly and smiled. “Let’s get a quick shower.”

Harry helped you into the washroom and assisted you in taking a shower, then left you to get dressed. As you walked back into the kitchen of the little bungalow he had rented, he sat a drink and plate of food in front of you.

“Thanks,” you said, placing a peck on his cheek as he leaned over to you, caressing your hair. ‘You’re a sweetheart.”

“I know,” he giggled.

You looked at the plate of food, which as sweet as he was to make it for you, was not appealing to you with the nasty stomachache you harbored from the night before. You picked up the glass and began to take a sip, when you stopped and sniffed it.

“What is this?”

“Hair of the dog, babe…”

Harry laughed as you quickly ran back into the washroom, relieving yourself of your belly ache, and cursing him under your breath, even though your belly did feel a bit better.

Woo, ain’t there nothin’ you can take?
I say, woo, to relieve your belly ache
You say, well woo, ain’t there nothin’ I can take?
I say woo, woo, to relieve your belly ache
You say ya, ain’t there nothin’ I can take?

What’s amazing about “Hamilton,” the smash hit on Broadway, is that it tells all this in the most accessible of ways, through the words of hip-hop. In other words, Miranda is bringing a new language to the art of the mainstream musical. This 21st-century artist is a true disruptor. In fact, Miranda tells Hamilton’s story so well that he’s able, through the technique of a rap poetry slam competition between Hamilton and political rival Thomas Jefferson, to explain to a general audience why it was so important that Hamilton established the first national bank. (By assuming the debts of the new states, the bank bound the young country together.)

Entrepreneurs are a scrappy, misunderstood lot. They persevere even when no one believes in them. They’re also nakedly ambitious, as was Hamilton. (Uber CEO Travis Kalanick put the founding father’s face on his Twitter handle and called Hamilton “America’s first capitalist.”) Hamilton achieved so much and left his mark on history. Miranda’s accomplishment of a career is to bring this story to whole new audience. Come to think of it, he’s a pretty good entrepreneur himself.

See this play if you can. Who knows, it might just inspire your creative—and entrepreneurial—juices.

Left: Me before running. I could have laid the seat back and went right to sleep. Sluggish. Cranky. Super low. (Didn’t realize there was a filter on it when I took this. Wasn’t trying to be cute.)
Right: Me after running. Yup, basking in my BADASSETRY! I’m telling you. It’s the cure for what ails ya’! Exercise is my free antidepressant. This shit will save your life.

- Jess

glynnisi  asked:

ShieldShock (naturally) ;) - Darcy cheers Steve up by introducing him to the wonder of kitten pictures, memes, and assorted nonsense. :)

Because kittens. ;)

Originally posted by stupidteletubbie


It’s the loud clatter, like the sound of something being thrown very hard at a solid object and shattering, that draws Darcy’s attention as she walks by Steve’s office in the compound. It’s late enough that most of the compound has called it a night (she’s only just managed to leave the labs herself, with Jane’s latest experiment settling in to run and calculate during the evening hours), but the lights in Steve’s office are still blazing.  The door’s wide open, so she pokes her head in to see what’s going on.

Steve’s there on the couch, bent over with his head in his hands.  His garbage can is knocked over, the contents half spilled across the floor. “Everything okay?” Darcy asks, which pulls Steve’s head up to look over at her.  His brow is furrowed, the lines of tension across his forehead clear to see even from a distance away.

“Yeah,” Steve says, sitting back with a heavy sigh.

“Liar,” Darcy fires back, walking into the office and quietly closing the door behind her. While it may be late, she’s not taking any chances of anyone in the compound catching her in Steve’s office off hours because the gossip in this compound can be damn insidious at times.  Not that they’d be exactly wrong, but still.

She sits down on the couch next to him, runs some fingers through the hair right above his ear, and relishes the way he tips his head towards her hand, seeking out as much contact as possible. “How about getting outta here?” Darcy asks.  “Head back to my place, have some ice cream, watch some bad movies and make out on the couch?”

“I wish,” Steve says on a sigh, listing over so that he’s leaning against her, bringing them into even closer contact.  “I have a call in an hour that’s supposed to address this clusterfuck.  So I’m stuck.”

“I can distract you?” Darcy offers with a grin.  She’s never had office sex before, but there’s a first time for everything, and she thinks she’d be a very willing participant.

Steve looks like he’s giving the idea serious consideration, and Darcy imagines what sorts of images could possibly be running through his head given the sudden light flush across his cheeks.  But then there’s a noise outside the office, the sound of people passing through the hallway, and Steve just shuts his eyes, grimacing slightly.  “Another time, then,” Darcy says, running her hand through his hair again.  “However, there is always plan B.”

Darcy reaches into her satchel and pulls out her tablet.  She brings up the browser and heads to the bookmarks she’s saved specifically for those bad days when all she wants to do is either punch something or scream into the void until she’s hoarse.  But as neither of those are good options, she takes a third one instead.  “Here,” she says, propping the tablet up on her knees and hitting play on the video she’s pulled up.  

Instantly, images of fluffy grey and white kittens that are all fuzz and gangly limbs come to life in their cozy pen, yawning and rolling over and cuddling with each other and just being adorable.  “The cutest kittens in the world.  Cures what ails ya…at least temporarily.”

“They are…obscenely cute.” Steve twists on the couch so that he’s leaning deep into the corner of it, and tugs gently at Darcy until she follows his lead, curled up between his legs, back pressed against his chest. His arms go around her waist and he props his chin on her shoulder, looking down at the playing kittens on the screen.  “Got any more cuteness to share?” he asks.

Darcy throws him a look, eyebrows arched over the frame of her glasses.   “You may be sorry you asked that,” she says as she pulls up another browser window, beginning the search anew for the cutest and silliest things she can find, just so she can put that smile on Steve’s face once more.


(I will continue working on all the positivity prompts until they are done!  It’s not as easy for me to write on weeknights with this new, hellish commute I’ve got going on, but I’m making my way through them.  So stay tuned…)