whiskey cures

anonymous asked:

Bones hiding away somewhere to cry alone after losing a patient he thought he should have been able to save. Kirk or Spock of chekov finding him and giving him a hug. Ok bye (Sorry if this sent a few times Tumblr was being weird

  • Bones has been quite close to cadet Francis for a few months now. Jim jokes it’s because the cadet fancies him, but it’s mostly because Francis suffers Xenopolycythemia. It’s horrible, Bones feels terrible for him, and it puts extra pressure on the doctor, for he’s the only one in the Alpha Quadrant who managed to cure the stupid disease thus far. And only once; on himself. It takes up a lot of his time, researching and testing different methods he used on himself before, but they don’t seem to change Francis’ condition. Jim visits him a lot, distracting him with reports, whiskey, and kisses (not necessarily in that order), because Jim needs attention, too. Often medical attention, at that, for getting himself hurt in an away mission.
  • One of those away missions goes awry, and the crew gets hit by a nasty flu. Bones is quick to catch on, placing cadet Francis in quarantine before he gets too close to those infected, but it’s too late. His already weakened immune system is not strong enough to fight off the virus, and two days later, cadet Francis is dead.
  • Bones is okay. He’s not fine, but he’s dealing. Dealing being; drinking himself into a stupor while trying to remind himself that deaths happen all the time. And so long he doesn’t think about it and keeps himself busy, Bones is okay. But then Jim waits for him at his quarters, medical report of Francis still open on his PADD. “You okay?” Jim asks, and just that question makes Bones think that no, he’s not okay, and he narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he says, “I just need to be alone.” Jim reaches out, a hand on Bones’ cheek, with the kind of affection Bones often yearns for, but now it just makes him more upset. “I need some time to deal,” he says, pulling away from Jim’s grasp, and he walks off.
  • The Enterprise has many corners and rooms that hardly see any visitors. And Bones finds a quiet corner down in the engine room, sitting down while continuously going through his PADD to look for ways he could have. Maybe. Could have had a different solution.
  • “Doctor,” Scotty says when he finds him, “what are you doing here?” “I need some time alone, Scotty,” Bones replies, though the hands in his hair must have indicated otherwise, because Scotty sits down next to him instead. “I heard about Francis,” Scotty says. “How did you-” “He was in engineering, I know everyone in engineering,” Scotty explains, “good lad. Terrible with the lassies, but a good lad. Idiot worked in a tank top one day instead of his uniform to get grease over his arms to impress the ladies. Didn’t work, and I had to send him to medbay with burns over his arms.” “Sounds like him,” Bones huffs, and Scotty chuckles. “Aye, so it does,” he says.
  • “Mr. Scott!” Chekov’s voice rings, and seconds later, he’s found the two of them, “I was just working on the engine and I noticed - Doctor? Are you okay?” “Yes, Chekov,” Bones says. “He’s upset because he lost someone on the operating table today,” Scotty says bluntly, and Bones sighs. “Yes, thank you for your tactful explanation,” Bones says, and so Chekov puts away his tools and instead squeezes himself right inbetween Chekov and McCoy. “You can’t save everyone, doctor.” “It’s my job to,” Bones says, “what good is an engineer if he can’t keep the engine running?” “Aye, well, way to get personal,” Scotty says, “but I can’t always keep the engine running. You know the Enterprise, it gets beat up a lot.”
  • “I’m here,” Sulu announces himself, and Bones frowns. “What are you doing here?” “Chekov texted me you were upset,” Sulu says, and Bones runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Of course he did.” “I brought some whiskey.” “Oh,” Bones says, gesturing him over, and Sulu sits down next to him. He opens the bottle, taking a sip himself before passing it on to Bones. “Did you know Francis well?” Sulu asks, and Bones huffs as he gives the bottle to Chekov. “Can we not? I came here to feel bad, I don’t need to feel worse.”
  • “Leonard,” Uhura calls out to him when she finds them, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a hug. “Are you alright, doctor?” “Did Chekov message you, too?” Bones asks, and Uhura frowns. “No, Sulu did.” “Oh, of course,” Bones says, though he cracks up a small smile when Uhura sits down next to Sulu and she takes a sip of the bottle when it’s passed on to her.
  • “Uhura texted you?” Bones asks when Spock joins in, too. “Naturally,” Spock replies, “I heard about Francis.” “Everyone heard about Francis,” Bones says. “His survival was improbable, Leonard,” Spock says reaching out just briefly to gently squeeze Bones’ arm, but he sits next to Uhura, and even takes a sip of whiskey. “If I can cure myself, I should’ve been able to cure him.” “You know better than anyone else that it doesn’t always  work that way,” Spock says, “even if you had cured him, his immune system was so weakened that the virus still might have gotten him.” “You don’t know that,” Bones says. “I calculated the chances of his survival based on previous cases of Xeno-” “I don’t want to hear it,” Bones says, “I couldn’t save him.” “You would have if you had a little more time,” Uhura promises him. “You’ve cured more diseases than most Starfleet doctors combined,” Chekov promises him, “there’s no one we trust more to treat us than you.”  
  • “I can’t believe all of you are having a making-Bones-feel-better gathering and none of you thought of texting me,” Jim announces when he arrives, “I had to hear from the beta crew!”. “I thought Spock would,” Uhura says. “Why would I? This isn’t about Jim,” Spock replies. “Oh my God, I feel so left out,” Jim says, sinking down on the floor in front of Bones. “Are you okay? I knew you were upset, but not that you were this upset.” “I’m okay now, Jim,” Bones says, half annoyed, and half incredibly grateful when Jim cups his cheeks and kisses him softly. “If I knew, I would’ve come a lot sooner! Babe, it’s not your fault, okay? You’re the best doctor we could hope for.” “I know,” Bones says, “I already heard all the peptalks.” Jim huffs, taking the bottle from Scotty’s hands, and he takes a big sip. “I can’t believe this. My own boyfriend’s down and no one tells me. This family’s the worst.” Bones laughs, surrounded by his friends, all huddled together with a bottle of liquor. “No, this family’s just fine.”
Ozark Encyclopedia – C – Cats

Cat’s blood used in curing a sty – “In treating what is known as a sty, it is necessary to cut the end of the cat’s tail a bit and apply a few drops of the blood to the sty itself, repeating this performance daily until relief is obtained.” ~Randolph OMF 138

Cat’s blood used to cure malaria – “Three drops of cat’s blood, in a jigger of whiskey, is said to cure malarial fever quite as well as any of this complicated tree magic, but the patient mustn’t know that there’s anything unusual in the whiskey, or it won’t work.” ~Randolph OMF 134

Cat hairs to divine a future husband – “When a man has asked a girl to marry him, and she cannot decide whether to have the fellow or not, the old women sometimes advise her to ‘leave it to the cat.’ In this procedure she takes three hairs from a cat’s tail, wraps them in white paper, and puts the package under her doorstep. Next morning she unfolds the paper very carefully, so as not to shake up the three hairs. If they have arranged themselves in the approximate form of the letter Y, the answer is yes; if they fall into the shape of an N, she will do well not to marry the young man.” ~Randolph OMF 181

Cat bone for earache – “If you have the earache, go out where an old cat died, pick up a bone, and rub it behind your ear 9 times, and lay it back down just like it was and it will cure your earache.” ~Parler FBA II 2128


Parler, Mary Celestia Folk Beliefs from Arkansas (FBA)

Randolph, Vance Ozark Magic and Folklore (OMF)

When I was a child, I’d come home after school to an empty house. My father had flown the coop. My mother worked as a maid in a hotel. It was lonely… so I brought in a baby squirrel I’d found and kept him in a shoe box. And then one day when I came home, he looked sickly. He was dead already, but I didn’t know that. I’d forgotten to feed him for a couple days. So I took him out of the box, and I laid him on the table, and I praid my heart out for several hours. And when my mother came home and found us, she screamed bloody murder, and she picked him up and threw him in the garbage. She worked hard, my mother. She was exhausted, and she couldn’t have known how cruel that was. But I cried and cried, saying, “God didn’t answer my prayers.” I remember, my mother was pouring herself a whiskey - the Martin family cure for everything. She looked at me and laughed. “God always answers our prayers, Judy. It’s just rarely the answer we’re looking for.”

You know, when I was a child,

I’d come home after school to an empty house. My father had flown the coop, my mother worked as a maid in a hotel. It was lonely. So I brought in a baby squirrel I’d found and kept him in a shoebox. And then one day, when I came home, he looked sickly. He was dead already but I didn’t know that. I’d forgotten to feed him for a couple days. So I took him out of the box and I laid him on the table and I prayed my heart out for several hours. And when my mother came home and found her, she screamed bloody murder; she picked him up and threw him in the garbage. She worked hard, my mother. She was exhausted and she couldn’t have known how cruel that was. But I cried and cried, saying, “God didn’t answer my prayers!” I remember my mother was pouring herself a whiskey, the Martin family cure for everything. She looked at me and laughed. “God always answers our prayers Judy, it’s just rarely the answer we’re looking for.” It’s over for me, Frank, My goose is cooked.

Judy, American Horror Story: Asylum

anonymous asked:

How do Junior and Smokey act when there sick?

Junior 

  • lots of naps, it’s a good excuse to be lazy
  • definitely makes it out to be worse than it is
  • goes to Sweet Tea for remedies (she tends to make him the best honey brewed tea)

Smokey 

  • seems like the kind of guy that views whiskey as a cure-all agent
  • doesn’t like to go to the doctor, will sit at home with the sniffles for a week and just suffer
  • really likes it when the others come to check on him

 Natasha, someone is never sick, often thinks dayquil, orange juice, and a shot whiskey will cure anything, had a time understanding she had the flu.  After a week of arguing Natasha made the appointment receiving a diagnosis she despised. Their weekend consisted of naps, soup a Bruce keeping  Natasha off of WebMD. Natasha had enjoyed the naps and Bruce enjoyed rarity of Natasha letting him help her.  

8

Female awesome meme:  [4/5] female antagonists: Sister Jude Martin
When I was a child, I’d come home after school to an empty house. My father had flown the coop. My mother worked as a maid in a hotel. It was lonely, so I brought in a baby squirrel I’d found and kept him in a shoe box. And then one day when I came home, he looked sickly. He was dead already, but I didn’t know that. I’d forgotten to… feed him for a couple days. So I took him out of the box, and I laid him on the table, and I prayed my heart out for several hours. And when my mother came home and found us, she screamed bloody murder, and she picked him up and threw him in the garbage. She worked hard, my mother. She was exhausted, and she couldn’t have known how cruel that was. But I cried and cried, saying, “God didn’t answer my prayers.” I remember, my mother was pouring herself a whiskey- the Martin family cure for everything. She looked at me and laughed. “God always answers our prayers, Judy. It’s just rarely the answer we’re looking for.”

I don’t know when I decided
that “happy”
wasn’t worth my time.

Maybe it was when I saw
that no amount of whiskey
can cure nausea

and that “throwback thursday”
can’t touch the past.

Maybe it was when I realized
that no matter how pretty I look
I’ll be a wreck in the morning,

and that nothing I say is funny
minus the friday night fever,

It might have been when I learned that
the fun is in the fall,
not the landing,

that clichés are ex-revolutions,

and that happiness
is too quick
for my water-logged heart.

—  eudaimonia

It’s a flimsy excuse at best, the book clasped tightly in his fingers that he could’ve easily left in the desk drawer. Alongside the small flask he hadn’t touched, beyond identifying it as whiskey, a bible stowed there, as if the place wasn’t already littered with them. Pictures scattered across the man’s desk that swore whoever he used to be, he’d had friends and family would miss him. Only they’re probably dead too, and Daniel doesn’t let his gaze linger on them long.

There’s nothing else worth noting or taking, and a few quick swallows of whiskey won’t cure anything right now. He can’t swear that anything will, and if it has little to do with the oddly oppressive images of angels haloed in light etched on abandoned programs. 

They get abandoned and so does the room, shut behind him as if there’s anything worse than dust hanging on the shelves. It’s better than finding bodies. But there’s a moment of hesitation when he sees Ezra, the thought that he’ll see through him. He’ll recognize it as the pitiful attempt it is just to break that awkward tension, even if Daniel doesn’t expect it to bridge any of the distance. There’s still that sensation of shame and guilt sitting heavy in his gut, but his own thoughts are nothing he can resolve. 

He holds out the book of crosswords, pencil still shoved between the pages. “Looks like the father had his hobbies too.”

@ezra-b-a

10

American Horror Story: Asylum

I Am Anne Frank Part 2

I cried and cried, saying, “God didn’t answer my prayers.” I remember, my mother was pouring herself a whiskey- the Martin family cure for everything. She looked at me and laughed. “God always answers our prayers, Judy. It’s just rarely the answer we’re looking for.”