spine boarding

Dean Ambrose - “I won’t say I told you so”

Prompt: a thing i saw on tumblr but i can’t find it to tag
Requested: lol no because my brain doesn’t want to come up with ideas for stories you guys have requested and i’m sorry
Warnings: None
Words: 1300+

“y/n!” You heard Dean’s growl yell down the hall. You had tried to get past him and back to the women’s locker room without him seeing him. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy and you could tell by his voice that he had found out about the match. 

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          ~::{ Decided to do a Left vs. Right hand experiment w/ my boy The Spine cause nobody can stop me and

          I am…. really surprised with my left hand like wtf no. I refuse to believe. }::~

For @satellite-jeon who requested kookmin and vampires! (i couldn’t think of anything for fairies, i’m sorry D: )

Also, this ended up being more of a shortfic rather than a drabble… oops…

Jimin has been roommates with Jungkook for over three weeks now. 

Actually, “roommate” is probably an overstatement since Jungkook is hardly ever in the dorm except to sleep anyway. Jimin doesn’t even remember what the guy looks like half the time. The longest conversation they have ever had was when Jimin drunkenly stumbled back to the dorm at four in the morning and Jungkook was somehow miraculously awake.

“Oh, Jungkook,” he had hiccuped. “Hi.”

Jungkook grunted a hello, hearing him even through his headphones.

“Whatcha doin’ up?” he slurred back, plopping on the ground to take off his shoes. Who the hell thought shoelaces were a good idea? Velcro worked just fine and was both children and drunk people-friendly.

“Listening to music.”

“Nice, nice, what kind?” One shoe down.

“All kinds.” 

“Okay, yeesh, talkative,” Jimin grumbled.

Jungkook turned to look at him then and Jimin’s chest lurched a little because shit, he never realized how stupidly attractive his roommate was. He had this tortured poet look, with the pale skin and the soft dark hair, and Jungkook’s eyes were so dark Jimin feels like he’s falling into them.

Jungkook’s piercing gaze made his blood race, and Jimin didn’t know if he was imagining it or not but it looked like Jungkook’s pupils were dilating all of a sudden, blowing up until his irises were almost gone.

“You… smell weird.”

It’s the stupidest insult Jimin had ever heard, but it still made him flinch. He pulled his shirt up to his nose to sniff it.

“Prob’ly the alcohol.”

Jungkook just grunted again and turned back to his screen and after managing to pull off the other shoe, Jimin crawled into bed.

After about a month of living with him, Jimin’s noticed several things about Jungkook that strikes him as a little bit odd. 

For one, the guy has the weirdest sleeping schedule Jimin’s ever seen, even for a college student. He’s practically nocturnal, and since Jimin’s dance class takes place at ass o’clock, that means Jungkook is usually getting in bed when Jimin’s getting out of it. 

Secondly, Jungkook’s about as allergic to the light as Jimin’s grandma is. He abuses the dimmer switch like no other, claiming that his skin’s “sensitive to UV rays,” so Jimin has had to invest in some personal lamps just so he can find his way around the room. The only reason Jimin hasn’t complained is because he can’t get over the image of Jungkook dressing up like his grandma, driving a car with rubber gloves up to his arms, face completely covered with a shawl and hidden behind huge bug-eyed sunglasses. It still makes him bust out laughing in class sometimes.

But the weirdest thing by far is the amount of fruit punch Jungkook drinks. God, it makes Jimin worried for his blood sugar levels. Jungkook always has an endless stock of them in his mini fridge, and when Jimin wakes up in the middle of the night, he usually catches Jungkook poking a straw through another silver pouch, slurping it while he leans back in his chair. It’s like he lives on that stuff.

One day, Jimin makes the terrible, terrible mistake of giving Taehyung some of Jungkook’s fruit punch. 

Taehyung had come knocking on his door after dinner, begging Jimin for some mixers for a rager he was throwing that night.

“Please hyung, we have so much alcohol and no chaser and you don’t want people to die of alcohol poisoning right?”

Taehyung’s stupid puppy eyes makes Jimin give in, and Jimin reluctantly hands over the fruit punch in the fridge. Jungkook will understand, right? Jimin just needs to pay him back for it.

Jimin’s woken up by the slam of a fridge door and a loud swear.

His bed dips suddenly, and when Jimin blearily opens his eyes, his entire body jerks back in shock.

“Holy shit, Jungkook- what the fuck?!” he gasps, startled at the sight of Jungkook perched over him. 

Jungkook is livid. His eyes are almost glowing, looking otherworldly in the dim of the room, and his nostrils are flared, teeth clenched like he’s trying to keep his temper in check.

“Jimin. Where the fuck are my drinks.”

Jimin’s stomach turns.

“Oh- oh shoot, I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “Taehyung was just really desperate because he needed some juice and stuff so I just gave him some of your fruit punch. I was gonna tell you right when you came back but I forgot and… I’m gonna pay you back! Sorry, I should’ve asked, I know.”

Jimin’s muscles tighten under Jungkook’s furious glare, and the panic starts settling in. The way Jungkook’s broad torso cages him in makes him feel like some trapped prey, ready for Jungkook to devour.

“So you’re telling me, Taehyung has my… fruit punch?” he grits.

Jimin nods and says weakly, “I’m sorry.”

“Do you know what you’ve fucking done?” Jungkook snarls. “I haven’t had anything to eat in the past two days.”

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll- I’ll buy you dinner?”

The sound that comes out of Jungkook’s throat is almost a growl, and Jimin’s heart races from fear.

“Stop that,” Jungkook hisses. “Why’s your heart beating so fast? You’re driving me nuts.”

Jimin confesses, “I can’t help it! You look like you want to kill me. Or eat me.“ 

"Try both." 

 The breath is knocked right out of his lungs.

“What?” Jimin gasps. 

Jungkook’s face morphs then, forehead relaxing, the glare in his eyes replaced by a teasing glint. His lip curls and he says, “I’m fucking starving and I need to eat.”

"We… can order pizza?” At Jungkook’s unchanging expression, Jimin says in one quick breath, “I’ll pay. It’s on me.”

“That’s not part of my diet.” (Which is ridiculous by the way, because pizza’s a part of everyone’s diets.) 

“Okay, then, uh, a salad?”


And then Jungkook parts his lips, opens his mouth wide. Jimin’s confused, doesn’t get why Jungkook’s showing off his dental work until he takes a closer look and sees extremely long, extremely sharp canines protruding from Jungkook’s mouth. 

 No, not canines. Fangs. 

“Holy- fuck, fuck,” Jimin tries to scramble back but is held in place by Jungkook’s strong grip. “Are those- are those fucking real?! Vampires are real?!?

“Yep,” Jungkook drawls, drawing his tongue over the point of his teeth. He gives Jimin a dangerous-looking grin and Jimin pales. 

“Oh my god. That- that wasn’t fruit punch, was it.”

“Nope,” he says with a pop of his lips, “and you just gave away my meal.”

“Oh… shit. I am so, so sorry. Please please please don’t kill me,” Jimin pleads, limbs quivering.

 “I’m not gonna kill you,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. “But I need to eat.”

“So you’re gonna eat me?” he squeaks.

“Think of it as a blood donation. And feeding the hungry.”

Jimin can’t tear himself away from Jungkook’s steady, consuming gaze. He understands the erotic fascination everybody seems to have with vampires now, his classmates’ obsession with Edward Cullen. There’s a heat in Jungkook’s stare that makes Jimin tremble in both excitement and fear.

“You’re not going to drain me dry, are you?”

“I just said I wasn’t going to kill you,” Jungkook says with a huff. “But if you keep on asking stupid questions, I’ll make it more painful than it has to be.”

With that, Jimin clamps his mouth shut. He bares his neck and it must be the right thing to do because Jungkook’s eyes flash and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Jimin’s breath quickens when Jungkook rearranges himself on the bed.

On the fifth breath, Jungkook’s head dips lower and lower to the junction between Jimin’s neck and shoulder, and Jimin squeezes his eyes tight in anticipation, muscles tensing and pulled taut like a bow as he waits for the fangs to pierce his skin. The hair on Jimin’s arms raises when Jungkook settles at the base of his neck. There’s an annoying smirk pressed against Jimin’s skin when Jimin’s body involuntarily shudders at the cold, sharp touch of teeth right at his vein. Jungkook drags out the event longer than it needs to be, taking his sweet fucking time, raking his fangs slowly, leisurely, from Jimin’s neck down to his collarbones, and then even slower back up, until Jimin shivers to the tip of his toes and his blood pulses red-hot underneath the surface of his skin.

He doesn’t even feel the prick of the fangs when Jungkook finally bites into him and drinks him up. He just gasps, pulls and grasps at Jungkook’s hair with a hand. Jimin’s body relaxes and loosens with every drop of blood that Jungkook drinks, but for some reason, his legs refuse to listen. Jimin’s thighs flex and twitch and quiver on either side of Jungkook’s body and his feet arch, toes pointed and curled so tight they almost cramp up. His mind’s a haze, he just hears the low pounding of his blood, feels the heat crawling and traveling up his body and leaving his neck.

And then it stops and Jungkook’s in front of him again, lips puffy and swollen. His tongue cleans the traces of blood from the bottom of his lips and Jimin stares at it, dazed. Jungkook’s eyes still look dark, so fucking dark, and Jimin gets so lost in it, doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s pulling Jungkook down until he tastes his own metallic blood on Jungkook’s tongue. The kiss is soft and slow and then fast and consuming, and Jimin doesn’t know if he’s lightheaded from the blood loss or from the kiss. 

They break apart when Jimin jumps up, spine straight as a board.

“Oh my god, shit, I forgot to call Tae.”

send me a (jimin) pairing and an au and i’ll write you a drabble

anonymous asked:

Hey Scripty, happy October - loving the blog you are doing many wonderful things. My Nano project is going to revolve around the recovery of a character who breaks his back and right femur in an aircraft crash (incomplete t-11, paraplegia and wheelchair dependency). Crash happens at an airshow so medics would be on hand; my question is what would the extraction from the wreckage of the aircraft look like, the period between the crash and getting the chara in the chopper?

Ooooooooooooooooffff. Recovering people from an airplane crash is not my forte; my people would only go to work after @scriptfirefighter ‘s kin put out the flaming wreckage and manage scene safety. 

The first piece is making it safe – making sure nothing is going to go boom or set the crew on fire. 

The second challenge is cutting them out of the wreckage. 

The third challenge is caring for them medically, which means a) stabilizing the C-spine with manual stabilization (hands on the side of the head) and a collar, then immobilizing them with a spine board, b) cutting their flight suit off, c) doing a full trauma assessment, d) fixing anything life threatening, e) getting IVs in place and possibly putting an airway in place if they’re not breathing or not breathing well.) 

Then medevac, then surgery, then long, protracted recovery period. 

Good luck with your story and I hope Doc can help you, his is an excellent blog! 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty


Special Disclaimer: Please Do Not Crash Your Airplane Into Crowds, It Is Rude. 

Finn Balor - Prompt #87

Prompt: “Stay awake.”
Requested: by Anon
Warnings: None
Words: 600+

It was an exciting day for you. You were going to be involved in the first ever women’s hell in a cell match against Sasha Banks. Although you weren’t going to win the title tonight, you were just excited to be in the match, to be making history. 

Your boyfriend Finn had been injured at SummerSlam a couple of months earlier which required him to have surgery on his shoulder. But it didn’t stop him from giving you every piece of information he could on the match. He helped you train for the biggest match of your career so far even though he wasn’t a fan when it was revealed that it was going to be a cell match. 

“Do you understand how dangerous that match can be?” Finn said as you got dressed for bed. 

“Every match is dangerous Finn. You should know you were in a normal match when you hurt your shoulder” 

“Exactly y/n. In a cell match there’s no rules. No count out, No DQ. Sasha can do whatever she wants to you” 

“And I can do whatever to her” you say sitting on the bed helping Finn take his sling off “I promise I’ll be fine Hun” 

“I just don’t want to get hurt” he and pulling you close to his chest.

“Now remember to keep moving don’t let her find a weakness” Finn said as Sandra put the finishing touches on your ring attire. 

“I’ll be okay Finn” you reassure him

“and don’t bring any weapons into the match only use them if Sasha brings them in. Make sure you remember where the weapons are. Just try to keep her in the ring and-” 

“Finn” You said grabbing his face “Shut up, your rambling. Just remember no matter what happens you stay backstage.  I’m going to be just fine.

Those words would come back to bite you. You gave the match all you could. The crowd was behind both you and Sasha. It didn’t take long for the cell and the no DQ to come into play. You were thrown into the steel steps and cell head first. Kendo sticks, steel chairs and tables were thrown around. But it wasn’t any weapon that caused the most pain. It was a powerbomb. 

Throughout the match you had worked on Sasha’s knee, knowing she had a previous knee injury. However, when she went to lift you up for a power bomb her knee gave way and it made you fall onto the back of your head. Your neck snapped back and your head throbbed. For a moment you couldn’t see properly. You were meant to get back up so Sasha could hit a back breaker in the bank statement but you just could. You felt Sasha hook you for a pin as you tired to get your eyes to focus. 

“Are you okay?” Sasha whispered as the pin started. You mumbled as the bell rang and Sasha’s music played out. The cell was lifted and medics and refs were quickly at your side. The crowd cheered and then next thing you knew that familiar Irish voice was next to you. 

“How’d-How’d I do?” you mumbled as a light was shone in your eyes 

“You did amazing sweetheart” Finn said stroking your hair with his hand that wasn’t in his sling. “I’m so proud of you”

You smiled at him. Your eyes became heavy as a neckbrace was placed around your neck and you were placed on a spine board. 

“Hey hey hey sweets, stay awake for me, you gotta stay awake” Finn said standing next to as the medics placed you on the stretcher. The crowd cheered for you. 

“But I’m so tired” you mumble

“I know I know sweets just stay awake a little while longer okay?”

Prompt from this list

Three Similar Treatments, Three Different Approaches

My time at the Conservation Department of NYU Libraries is drawing to an end, with only two months left.  Since my chief interest is in rare book collections, I will focus on rare book treatments for my final block under the supervision of Anne Hillam and Dawn Mankowski. So far, I have worked on three leather books, whose treatments I approached from different angles. The goal of these treatments was to restore the original function of the books. The condition concerns presented either a front board detachment and/or a reback. Before beginning treatment, we discussed what options we had and which were best suited for the books in question, as well as the challenges they posed.

Book one is a full tree-calf leather binding with a tight joint, tight back construction. The board to text block attachment is facilitated by two cords. The tight back construction and its shoulder, while small, still allowed for a pleated paper hinge board reattachment. The pleated hinge preserves the pivoting action of its boards, especially since it was a tight back. This treatment was appropriate for this book because it also allowed us to avoid lifting the spine leather, which could lead to more damage.

Book two is bound in sprinkled dark brown full calf-skin, blind tooled with double fillet roll border, frame, and panel decoration. Its spine piece is missing, revealing five false cord bands, which suggest a tight back construction. We thought that this book was a great candidate for a full reback with a cast composite. Using the cast composite on a tight back with false cords proved to be challenging. The composite material does not stretch like leather, which made it difficult to mold over the false cords. The turn-ins were difficult to complete at the head and tail since the new material wrinkled easily, making it difficult to control. In the future, this treatment could be adjusted by using different adhesives with a longer drying time, as well as careful consideration on the type of binding it is used.

Book three is bound in half brown sheep-skin and purple Moiré cloth. The spine piece is a hollow back made with printer’s waste and false bands. The leather corners and the leather spine edges of the boards are blind stamped with a double fillet roll. The goal of this treatment was to keep as much of the original material as possible and the treatment method used was more traditional. I re-backed the book using dyed leather to match the original and re-used the original printed waste spine liner in the new hollow, retaining the original spine lining.

From these treatments, I learned that the construction of the binding greatly informed the type of treatment it receives. The structural elements that influenced my treatments include the condition of the covering material, tight back versus hollow construction, depth of the shoulder, and construction of the spine as smooth or on raised cords. Lastly, the materials used in treatments will not only have to match the original material aesthetically, but also complement the structural and mechanical nature of the book. This includes flexibility of the material and its durability.

What challenges in rare book conservation will come up next?

-Post by Lyudmyla Bua, Andrew W. Mellon Fellow for Master of Arts and Certificate of Advanced Study in Libraries and Archives Conservation at Buffalo State, SUNY.


So my bff wants to read my Campwolfe fanfiction. Only problem is he’s not in the fandom and only has vague idea of who those british lesbian fake surgeons you keep banging on about every time we run Serena Campbell and Bernie Wolfe actually are.  In order to bring him up to speed before he reads I decided to create a simple guide.  Sharing here for fun and also to make sure my sleep deprived brain hasn’t left out anything crucial. Please feel free to reblog with mistakes or omissions.

Bernie and Serena for Dummies: The Coles Notes Version

SERENA CAMPBELL (has been referred to by Bernie as The Fräulein)

She’s the brunette (51 and gorgeous) that prefers flowing blouses and looks like a cinnamon roll but make no mistake she could actually kill you.

Consultant, surgeon, MBA, former hospital Deputy CEO.  Used to getting what she wants. Notorious flirt.  Can charm F1’s out of the trees. Co-lead on ward called AAU at Holby City Hospital. Good at paperwork.

Penchant for shiraz and occasionally whiskey.  Mostly shiraz - in fact just throw her into the vat fully clothed. Bonus she knows where to find the key to Albie’s (Holby’s local watering hole)

Was married to Edward, alcoholic (he’s a shit), has a grown up daughter Elinor and an autistic nephew Jason who lives with her who takes up quite a bit of her time and is fairly puzzled by relationships but when he’s not sticking his foot in it his mission is to move her love life along.

Has a penchant for holding life-long take it to the grave grudges.

Mom™ and spends a lot of time on the ward listening to other people whinge on about difficulties, consoles them and generally takes care of the people in her life personally and professionally.  Hurt someone she is close to and YOU ARE DEAD TO HER. Does not suffer fools gladly. Has no room for fuck ups. Unless said fuck up is committed by  a certain blonde ex-army medic with puppy dog eyes. In that case she will forgive almost anything.

Deadpan sass queen of the century.  Has a snappy comeback for everything. Her smile could thaw Antarctica. Is good at back massages.

Has been in favour of firing anyone who is involved in inter-office romances. Her own hypocrisy not lost on her now that she has fallen for ex-Army Major.

Died-in-the-wool-heterosexual who has fallen in love with a woman and is concerned that she may now be a washed-up midlife lesbian (if that’s actually a thing)

Wears her heart on her sleeve.  Flings herself headlong into love. A hedonist at heart. Takes emotional risks. Deals well with heartbreak by pulling herself together. Gets shit done.

MAJOR BERENICE WOLFE (Bernie - also known as The Big Macho Army Medic or BMAM)

She’s the blonde (51 and gorgeous with unicorn hair) that prefers trench coats and skinny jeans. Looks like she could kill you. Could actually kill you.

Consultant, trauma surgeon, ex British army Major and incredibly brilliant surgeon who takes calculated risks that mostly work out.  Considered the most fantastic fearless doctor on AAU (according to Serena - the entire hospital) and emotionally is an actual bona fide human disaster. Crap at paperwork.

Penchant for cigarettes, especially one lone hold out she’s been carrying around for years as a symbol of her freedom and independent self.  Tries to smoke it and doesn’t. Has so much self restraint sometimes it’s possible to wonder if she has a pulse.

Was married to Marcus (also a bit of a shit) and has two grown up children Cameron (who is training to be a doctor) and Charlotte, who she is trying to get to know again as she was often stationed away from them as they were growing up. Had an affair with a woman, Alex Dawson, while in Afghanistan. Was blown up there and wheeled into Holby hospital on a spine board in one of the most iconic entrance scenes a character has been given.

In the 99th percentile in caring deeply for those she loves. In the 5th percentile in execution of demonstration of caring for said individuals.  When it comes to expressing emotion often loses the ability to speak in full sentences.  Has mastered the art of Long Lingering Looks™. Is complete crap at returning texts or emails. Runs at the first sign of emotional trouble. Likes to brood on the roof.

Her hair gets messier as her involvement in the series progresses. Looks really fabulous in scrubs of any colour. Has puppy dog eyes.  Appears hot even while expressing unwarranted jealousy.

Fiercely loyal and will have your back in a crisis.  Giver of excellent gifts but will leave your office like a complete trash pit if she takes up residence for more than a week.  Housekeeping not her strong suit but she’s excellent at boots-on-the-ground-triage. Card carrying member of Club Screw Up.

Is possibly a Lesbian™ but could be seen as bisexual. Fails to notice she has fallen in love with straight female colleague and this needs to be pointed out to her by her grownup son.  Once pointed out, ever the action woman, kisses dyed-in-the-wool-heterosexual female surgical co-lead right on the mouth while sitting on the floor in theatre because she ‘wants to’. Has not properly thought out next steps. Back-pedals.

Co-creator (with Serena) of AAU’s new trauma unit. Throws arm wrestling contest in favour of allowing straight co-lead (who she really ‘likes’) to dominate. Excellent at removing tap sets out of patients nether regions without falling into fits of laughter. Is pants at freehand drawing.

Professional life: Nerves of steel. Calm as shit. Personal life: Panics.

Bernie and Serena: The Relationship

They meet.  They banter.  They operate. They bond. They wrangle. They arm wrestle. They drink shiraz. They smile. They exchange cute nicknames. They Kiss™. They have a sapphic angst-fest. They Kiss 2.0™-The Office Edition. They have a sapphic angst-fest separation. They reunite. They Kiss 2.1.0™ -The Locked Office Remix Edition

Some hospital property might be destroyed in the process.

Their love can be seen from space. 

NurseyDex Week: Hurt/Comfort

Dex isn’t on the ice when it happens.

Which is stupid. He should have been on the ice. They’re d-partners and boyfriends and he wasn’t on the ice and now Nursey isn’t moving. Dex is having a hard time breathing.

Fights are breaking out all over, as someone from Samwell goes after the guy who hit Nursey and the guys on the ice are jumping to protect their teammates. Dex can’t be bothered to look to see who is fighting who, since Nursey is still not moving.

Harvard’s athletic trainer is on the ice now, making his way to where Nursey is lying, his body pressed up against the boards. After a few seconds of talking to Nursey, Dex hears him call for a spine board and he panics.

Dex feels a few hands grab at his jersey to keep him on the bench, but now nothing will be able to keep him from getting onto the ice and getting to Nursey. He thinks maybe his jersey rips in a few places as he breaks their hold. He doesn’t care.

The athletic trainer warns him to keep back, but Dex can’t. He just can’t, okay? Once Nursey is strapped to the board and lifted onto a rolling stretcher, Dex finally sees him move. His hand reaches out towards Dex, and Dex takes it quickly.

Nursey’s hands are cold. Probably since his gloves came off when he hit the boards, but Dex still doesn’t like it one bit. They don’t speak to each other. Nursey because the athletic trainer told him not to strain himself, and Dex because he’s not sure if he can speak without losing it right now. But their hands are twisted with each other’s.

Dex stays by Nursey’s side until he’s being loaded into the ambulance. The athletic trainer tells Dex he can’t come with, and Dex is aware of someone from Samwell’s bench standing behind him. One of the coaches, maybe? Dex tries to protest. Nursey is on a fucking spine board and going to the hospital, he couldn’t care less about the rest of the game.

“Dex please,” Nursey whispers as Dex presses his face into Nursey’s shoulder. “You have to finish the game. Win for me.”

Dex obey’s Nursey’s wish, but he doesn’t remember any second of the rest of the game. He keeps getting flashes of Nursey’s body crumpling to the ice and all he can think about is getting this over with and getting to the hospital.

The Harvard guy who boarded him is lucky he got ejected from the game.

As soon as the final seconds are up, Dex heads straight for the locker room. No one even attempts to get in his way. He’s out of his gear and in his street clothes in a flash and is pocketing both his and Nursey’s phones and grabbing Nursey’s clothes when one of the coaches offers to drive him to the hospital.

The ride is silent, and possibly the only part of the night since Nursey got hit that doesn’t pass in a blur. Dex’s leg won’t stop shaking.

When they finally get to the hospital, he almost isn’t allowed to visit Nursey. He technically isn’t family, and they tell him Nursey isn’t allowed to have visitors. But one of the nurses takes one look at Dex’s disheveled shirt, haphazard hair, and Nursey’s clothing in his clenched fists and escorts him back anyway.

His hands are trembling by the time she shows him to Nursey’s room. He’s silent as he walks through the door. Nursey’s head turns as soon as he hears Dex’s footsteps.

“Babe?” he says in almost a whisper.

“Hey,” Dex whispers back.

“You came.”

Dex crosses the room and takes in the sight. Nursey is not a little guy, but somehow the hospital bed seems to dwarf him. He looks almost fragile under the sheets. There’s a bruise starting to form around his eye and he’s got a collar around his neck. His eyes are sunken in like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“Of course I did,” Dex chokes out. Tears are starting to form in his eyes, despite the fact that Dex doesn’t cry. He just doesn’t.

“Oh, babe,” Nursey says softly, reaching out for Dex’s hand. “I’m okay.”

There are definitely tears falling from Dex’s eyes now, as Nursey brings his hand up to his lips.

“I’m okay, Dexy. I promise. They took x-rays and nothing is broken. I’m just really sore. They’re keeping me over night just to make sure I don’t have a concussion, but I promise they think I’m fine. Here—”

Nursey slides his body over to the edge of the bed despite Dex’s immediate protest. He winces a bit as he moves, but goes quickly. He gently pulls Dex down to the bed and Dex goes easily, wrapping his arm around Nursey’s middle and tucking his face in the crook of Nursey’s neck.

Dex’s tears are definitely flowing now, sobs finding their way out every few seconds. Nursey starts to run his hand through Dex’s hair, shushing him and murmuring “I’m fine” over and over again.

It takes him a while to get all his tears out. He isn’t keeping track of time, but if he had to guess, he probably spends a good fifteen or twenty minutes with his head tucked against Nursey, letting all the emotions flow over him.

Fear that Nursey got hurt. Anger that he wasn’t on the ice to protect him. Sadness that Nursey is in pain and stuck in this hospital bed. Worry that Nursey might not be as okay as the doctors think.

Pure relief that the doctors are probably right and Nursey will be completely fine.

His sobs start to fall silent until he’s hardy even crying anymore—just breathing heavily into Nursey’s hospital gown.

It’s then that he feels a prick of embarrassment. Nursey is the one who got boarded in the middle of a game, taken off the ice on a spine board, transported in an ambulance to a hospital, put through what was probably a long list of tests, and finally deposited in an uncomfortable hospital bed in just a flimsy gown. And yet here Dex is, the one who needs consoling from him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I tried to keep calm. For you.”

“Don’t be, babe,” Nursey says sweetly. “I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long if it was you instead of me.”

Nursey kisses the top of Dex’s forehead, reminding Dex that he hasn’t even kissed his boyfriend since he got here. Dex picks his head up and meets Nursey for a sweet and gentle kiss. Dex lets all his love and emotions transfer through to Nursey through their lips. At least, he hopes he does.

“I love you so much,” Dex says as they pull apart.

“I love you too, babe,” Nursey says with a smile.

Shane McMahon - Hell in a Cell

Prompt: my brain thought this up after HIAC could be part 3 of my other shane stories - I’m okay and I’m proud of you found on my masterlist
Requested: no
Warnings: None
Words: 1700+

Originally posted by machomanwrestlinghistory

“You know there is still time to call the match off” you hummed as Shane moved around your bedroom.

“And why would I do that?” Shane raised his eyebrows

“Because you were just in a helicopter crash and you shouldn’t be in a hell in a cell match” you said

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If Walls Could Talk

Part 1: Crystal Hefner is 30.

Summary: Nicole starts the night crying herself to sleep, and ends it with a new friend. 
Word Count: 2195
Pairing: Jensen x Nicole
Warnings: None. 

A/N: This is my entry for my own YouAU Challenge! It will be five parts total, and I’m having way too much fun writing this. Yet, here we are. Enjoy! 

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This place is weird. You get ordered to go out into the wastelands and try and find something to refine your craft. Since I’m a bookbinder this kind of mission is usually hell for me. You simply don’t find much in the way of bookbinding materials in the wasteland.
But when you do, you feel like the sun is finally shining on you again. So want to know what happens when you find an old, abandoned block of book guts in a house? Read on.

So this is what I found. a simple text block with the covers already glued on. I wonder how long this has been sitting here?

I noticed how far away from the spine the covers were glued. I began to suspect that this was why it had been abandoned. Did they cut the boards not wide enough? Was it exactly as as planned? Who know?

Anyway, I decided that this book needed less distance between spine and boards so I went about fixing that. I first found some cardboard offcuts and bevelled and cut some filler strips.

I then found some more cardboard and gave it a very steep bevel on both sides.

I also got some MORE cardboard and attached it to the bevelled area. I then glued everything together. Now I had a cover padding and some embellishments.

Glued in place, everything looked secure.

I must admit that this stack of book guts didn’t really look old. No one would believe me if i said i found it. They would say i made it! So on went some coffee grounds!

I may, uh, have been lacking in headband materials so I kinda wrenched some wires out of the wall. I’m sure nobody will notice.

I still need to refine the sewing of metal headbands a bit. It is not as easy as sewing thread headbands. Also the choice of square leather laces was not the ideal choice. Definitely chose a round core next time. But eh, beggars can’t be choosers.

Poop! I need a ribbon!

I have nothing to use as ribbon… Nothing except some short scraps of leather. With nothing to lose I pared them really thin and glued them into a ribbon (I trimmed it neat of course).

I found some old brass chainmaille hidden in a box. Ugh. It hasn’t been well taken care of…
(Persian 4-1 chain and European 4-1 in case anyone was curious) 

I freed a ring and gave it a flat spot on the join.

I then attached it to my leather ribbon! My bookmark ribbon is now nicely weighted.

It then got buffed with the blood of my enemies and I was done with the ribbon. It then got glued onto the spine

I sacrificed my own jeans to use as padding on the areas between the tapes.

See what I’m doing here? I’m being patient. Now don’t go freaking out thinking that the glue will dry and wont work very well. You are wrong. You’ll find a lot of PVA glues work best if they’re left to lose their initial wetness and become a little tacky. Trust me. That stuff will bond together like contact adhesive.

This is one way to make a curved spine off the book. You glue a specially sized piece of cardboard to a piece of PVC pipe (easily scavenged from pretty much anywhere) with some wheat paste. You then glue a piece of cardboard (grain running long ways down the pipe) onto the guide piece with some hard setting glue (woodworking glue works well).
Apply more glue and fold the cardboard back on itself a whole bunch of times until desired thickness is obtained. You must then let it dry fully.

Now that would be great if that worked for me, but I accidentally made my guide piece waaaay too wide and the curve of this spine made it hit the cover boards. No. That wasn’t going to work so I reverted back to my usual method of making the spine back on the book.

Not only did this place have the book guts it also had some veg tanned leather. It was 1mm thick though. bit of a troublesome thickness. I had to pare the edges and down the middle of the sheet.

Plain veg tanned leather is to clean and bright. COFFEE to the rescue! I managed to brew up some delicious coffee and then use the coffee grounds to make a truly epic dye.

Hey I found some more twisted wire. I Think I’ll need to use this somewhere on the book…

Okay so here is my spine design. I used offcuts of the leather from the cover to do this.

Okay I may have accidentally put the covering leather on a little too far over to one side. This resulted in one corner (the only dodgy corner I cut) being left without enough leather to do a proper turn in.

I could do a dodgy corner if I wanted. There is enough there for that. Or I could fix the problem.

So a way to fix it is that you trim your other corners and collect one of the offcuts. If you’ve pared it fine enough you can stick it between the leather and the dodgy area.

You can then trim accordingly and you wont even be able to notice in most cases.
All that is left is to complete the turn-ins and glue on the end pages. Oh, and add some little embellishments to the spine.

This was a wonderful test book to make. I got to try a whole bunch of new techniques from dying leather to adding some more extreme cover and spine patterns. I got to work with veg tanned leather which was a pleasure to work with over chrome tanned in terms of moldability.

Okay so you can see there is a difference with the two headband pics provided. The top one I tried using two strands on the one needle and on the bottom one I used just one strand. The double stranded one gave it the braided pattern but the pearling at the bottom was messy. With the single strand the pearling was a lot neater but the actual wraps were missing the braid pattern because I didn’t chose alternating twists.

I’m not actually selling ones like this yet but I’d like to refine my skills enough to be happy to put them on the market. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed.


Sometimes the unfortunate deterioration of a book’s binding reveals details of its construction that were meant to remain hidden.

Pictured above are a few examples of volumes from the I. Edward Kiev Collection offering glimpses of waste paper padding or supporting their spines and cover boards:

- part of an advertisement page from a New York Italian-language newspaper found in Di lehren fun di foṭers, a Yiddish edition of Pirke Avot translated by Solomon Blumgarten (New York: Ferlag Yehoash, 1912);

- an advertisement for industrial machines published in a German-language newspaper, perhaps in St. Petersburg, found in the first volume of a German-Arabic dictionary, Adolf Wahrmund’s Handwörterbuch der neu-arabischen und deutschen Sprache (Giessen: J. Ricker, 1898);

- a fragment of an illustration featuring boys, a dog, and hot air balloons found in Moïse Schwab‘s Répertoire des articles relatifs à l'histoire et à la littérature juives parus dans les périodiques de 1783 à 1898 (Paris: Durlacher, 1899-1900).


This is the Book of Book Spines and also works as an instant shelf of books, with just one book. I made this using the Disappearing Spine Bradel Binding and moulded each individual spine with boards, watercolour paper and lots of sanding. Each spine is covered in leather and different spine decoration techniques are explored. This book was a great feat but I was definitely very satisfied after completing it. This took me almost a month and half to complete, with a little break during Christmas and New Year’s while I was in London.


I was taught that when you restore a book, it is not just simply taking off its old covers and tossing it in the bin and giving it a spanking new one. Sometimes restoration means keeping the old, celebrating the history of the book, but yet know what to replace with new materials to give the book structural integrity and longevity. 

The Small Roman Missal had so much history and sentimental value that it needed to be restored with care and sympathy, knowing that every bit of the book means a lot to the owner. I gave this small prayer book a new spine lining using Fray-not, new boards and a new spine piece, as the old boards and spine has been damaged and disintegrated quite badly. The new boards are edge-lined with Harmatan Fine navy blue goat leather, to match the original covers of the prayer book. I managed to lift the original covers and on-laid them onto the boards. 

I met up with my customer who was also on the way to the hospital to visit her 90 year old nanny to return the prayer book to her, so that she can have the book that has given her so much comfort for the past 60 years with her while she recuperate from an infection. Get well soon, sweet nanny.