On moving-in day, emotions are high, as is the radio, and
mostly everyone is sweating and/or in some kind of state of undress. Nursey,
who falls into both categories, as he is glistening and smelly as well as shirtless,
is busy carrying boxes up and down the Haus stairs. Having already transferred
all of Lardo’s stuff into the moving truck that is taking her, Holster’s, and
Ransom’s stuff to their newly leased apartment in Boston, Nursey is now
transferring his own things from the carts the that he and Dex borrowed from
Faber that are traditionally used for moving around large amounts of equipment
to his and Dex’s new room.
His and Dex’s. It’s stupid, but there’s a little
fluttering, not unlike the butterflies that Nursey finds to cliché to
reference, in the middle of his chest at the thought of theirs. Even if it’s a shared room. Even if it’s a forcibly shared
room. Nursey, who is now painfully familiar with the tango of unrequited love,
takes what he can get.
He sets down the newest box next to a couple of other ones
on the desk that Shitty left, Lardo kept, and is no handed down to Dex and
Nursey. They managed a pretty good set up, considering that the room really is
meant for only one person. One bed, which Shitty had pushed up against the
right-hand corner when you first enter the room, has been put back from where
Lardo had it up against the wall of windows. It’s a raised bed, the same one
Shitty used, and it had been salvaged from the basement and cleaned and checked
thoroughly for weaknesses prior to being installed by Dex. Where the closet
used to be, but now is just an alcove-type thing due to a mishap with a
sledgehammer in Johnson’s frog year, houses the other bed. That bed takes up
the entire space of the alcove and is a cozy place to study. Nursey got dibs on
that one, simply because he and Dex decided that a drunk, clumsy Nursey would
never be able to get up the ladder to the raised bed. A desk is shoved next to
Dex’s bed and a dresser and a clothes rack have been squeezed in to make room
for their clothes.
Dex says that he’ll put up some shelves for their stuff in
the fall, but he wants to wait until he can get back home to get the wood. One
of his uncles runs a lumber yard and will give him a discount on planks, and
his part-time job at a hardware store up in Maine has an employee discount on
the various hardware that he needs (Nursey stopped listening after Dex started
mumbling to himself about bolt sizes. It was easier just to watch his lips move
It’s a good set up and they won’t be on top of each other
if they’re both in here at once. They’ll probably survive. They might even be
able to manage a few good memories. Nursey’s eyes catch on the slit in the
flooring, where a quarter rolled itself not three months earlier, and his
subconscious starts spewing musings of fate. His lips quirk into an unbidden
smile, just like they had that day. No, he hadn’t been able to conceal his
excitement at the thought of sharing a room with Dex. He had been incredibly disappointed
to learn that Ollie and Wicks had gotten the attic, and not just because that
had meant, at the time, that he and Dex would have to fight over Lardo’s dibs.
“Nursey, honey, come downstairs!” Bitty calls. Nursey
shakes himself and follows the voice down to the kitchen, where most of the
SMH, plus a few more, are congregating over an apple pie alamode because it is
fucking hot. Caitlin came over to
help move them in, so she and Chowder are sharing a piece of pie- fine, Nursey thinks, but doesn’t say.
The season’s over; no more fines. Dex had gotten his dryer back in February and
everything Valentine’s Day entailed. Nursey had spent his birthday fining the
team right along with Dex, and then they watched Monty Python movies and ate
the birthday pie Bitty had made Nursey together on the couch. Nursey considered
it to be one of the best birthdays he’d ever had.
Aside from Chowder and Caitlin, most of the SMH couples
were present as well; Jack and Bitty, Lardo and Shitty, Ollie and Wicks, Ransom
and Holster (who weren’t dating, but everyone considered them a couple), and
Ford and her most recent drama girlfriend. Sadly, none of these girlfriends
stuck long. As well as the couples, Johnson had also come back to visit, and
Tango, Whiskey, and Whiskey’s lax bro friend, Baby Chad (who everyone had
agreed was kind of alright) were there to help move as well. It was a big job;
clearing out Lardo’s room and the attic and then moving all of the new tenants’
stuff in. Nursey’s stuff had taken the longest, boxes and boxes of books, so he’d
been left to finish up his own stuff alone as the rest of the guys set up the
stuff for a picnic.
Dex slides into place next to Nursey, offering him one of
the pink hard lemonades that Bitty had gotten everyone addicted to. Nursey
takes it with a small smile and marvels a bit at the similarities between the
color of the drink and Dex’s skin in the almost-summer heat.
“I have to set up some shelves and we’ll definitely need
more space for all your fancy hipster clothes, but I think it’ll be okay,” Dex
says, eyebrows pulling together seriously before smoothing out as he finishes the
sentence, offering Nursey a small smile.
“Hmm, yeah.” Nursey takes a sip of lemonade. He glances at
Dex and grins. “It might not suck.”
“Of course, you will have to keep your books from getting
underfoot,” Dex says, the tone he uses for their banter tinging his words
“And if I step on some kind of hardware thing, I’ll wake
you up with a bucket of water.” Nursey nods seriously. Dex nods back.
“Of course.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “And if you
try to talk to me while I’m tweaking over school work, I’ll put a live lobster
in your bed.”
Nursey can’t help but laugh at that one after all the
references to lobsters that he’s made Dex endure over the past two years. Dex
smiles back, arm paused halfway through the motion of bringing up the lip of
his bottle to his mouth, and it’s such a good look on him that Nursey can’t
help but sigh through his nose.
“Look!” Chowder cheers, smiling brightly and a little too
much- he’s probably hit the hard lemonade too. “ They’re getting along!”
The rest of the group laughs as Dex says, “Don’t get used
bet this’ll be the last time they get along until graduation,” Holster says,
grinning happily even though his cheeks are tear stained from earlier.
flips him off good-naturedly. Then he rolls his eyes, sharing it with Nursey,
as if to say, they’re ridiculous.
Then he grins, a bit of mischief in his eye, and Nursey takes this to mean, let’s prove them wrong.
I’m going to try and get two of these out today because due to me being in work twice this week, I haven’t had availability to write. I hope to post at least three today, so I hope you all enjoy!
Requested by Anon: Since Laura is already a handful, when the reader discovers she’s pregnant she panics and keeps it a secret from Logan. When she begins to show and has incredibly odd food cravings, Laura finds her pregnancy test and decides to tell her father instead.
I work security at a lumber yard gate, and majority of people don’t complain. But I get some complaints about the process we have here and it annoys the piss out of me.
So we don’t just let people back without first having a paid ticket. That pisses people off. “How do I know what I’m getting?” I don’t know? Walk through the inside of the store and look at it?
I have to scan people in and out. People will boohoo about it.
Yes, because it makes total sense we are just going to let you into the lumber yard and then not verify what you got when you leave. How do they not comprehend that? Why would you think we’re not going to check to make sure you got what you said you’re getting?
Just had a guy ask me what happened to the “neighborhood lumber yards,” what the fuck does that mean? Are there lumberyards that don’t check to make sure people aren’t stealing? Or getting everything they paid for?
And then when I ask them to sign! “What am I signing for?” You’re signing over your soul over to the company. What do you think? You came in to get stuff, now you’re leaving with that stuff and I’m having you sign a document.
“I already signed inside.” No, you signed for using your credit card. Not that you’re picking this stuff up.
And it wouldn’t be so maddening if it weren’t for the fact that the people asking me that always sound so pissed off.
And they all of course act like I make the fucking rules. I’m contract security. I work for a company that is hired to station people at this lumberyard.
So yeah, I totally established corproate policies for a company I’m not even an employee of!
I honestly don’t understand why there aren’t more people who, when given the platform to discuss minimum wage, don’t simply distill it to the simplest of facts:
A forty hour work week is considered full time.
It’s considered as such because it takes up the amount of time we as a society have agreed should be considered the maximum work schedule required of an employee. (this, of course, does not always bear out practically, but just follow me here)
A person working the maximum amount of time required should earn enough for that labor to be able to survive. Phrased this way, I doubt even most conservatives could effectively argue against it, and out of the mouth of someone verbally deft enough to dance around the pathos-based jabs conservative pundits like to use to avoid actually debating, it could actually get opps thinking.
Therefore, if an employee is being paid less than [number of dollars needed for the post-tax total to pay for the basic necessities in a given area divided by forty] per hour, they are being ripped off and essentially having their labor, productivity, and profit generation value stolen by their employer.
Wages are a business expense, and if a company cannot afford to pay for its labor, it is by definition a failing business. A company stealing labor to stay afloat (without even touching those that do so simply to increase profit margins and/or management/executive pay/bonuses) is no more ethical than a failing construction company breaking into a lumber yard and stealing wood.
Our goal as a society should be to protect each other, especially those that most need protection, not to subsidize failing businesses whose owners could quite well subsidize them on their own.
This’ll probably be ½ for the night, ya’ll are killing me with these prompts because I love writing them! If you are a Melissa McBride fan or a Carol Peletier (TWD) fan please check out the hashtag post below this and begin tweeting on Sunday!
Requested by Anon: You and Laura make a birthday cake for Logan while he’s asleep to surprise him. A very overdue birthday for him, one which makes the reader think about him dying and her getting old since she’s human.
here’s an unnecessarily long coworkers!Everlark drabble.
Katniss has just dropped her bag on her desk when Peeta appears, two coffee mugs in hand.
“Good morning,” he greets with an easy smile. “Two sugars, just like you like it.”
Even as she rolls her eyes, she can’t help the smile that slips into place as she takes the proffered mug. “If you suck up any harder, you’re going to collapse a lung, Mellark,” she teases, sipping the hot liquid before she sets it down beside her keyboard.
He scoffs in mock offense. “We’re peers, Everdeen. There are no nefarious ulterior motives here.” He sips his own coffee before continuing, bracing his shoulder against the edge of her cubicle wall. “You are Abernathy’s favorite, though, so…”
This time, she’s the one who snorts dismissively. “Hardly. You’ve only been here a month, and he already likes you better than everyone else,” she grumbles, flipping on her computer screen.
She’s not prepared for Peeta to lean in close, his mouth dangerously close to her ear in conspiracy. She tenses at the proximity, her eyes dropping to his lips as they shape his response. “The secret is that he takes his coffee with a shot of Jameson,” he whispers, his mouth curling up at the corners, and she laughs as he finally leans back, her face mildly flushed.
“Duly noted,” she replies, keeping her tone dry, and he just grins at her and takes a step back out of her cubicle.
“I’ll leave you to it then. Remember, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!” he chirps in perfect imitation of their office manager, Effie Trinket, and she just gives him a disapproving shake of her head, despite the grin on her face.
He heads back to his desk, and her gaze follows him until he disappears into his cubicle.
Tried to sleep but was hit with the sudden desire to build a tavern and knew I wouldn’t be able to shake it off until I actually did it so I did it
But instead of a tavern I built some shops in a bus :p
Ok so my bf works in a lumber yard (I sell cupcakes for a living lol) and I'm picking him up from work today for lunch and I'm so excited!!!!!! He's gonna smell like sawdust (I know I'm weird but I love it)!!!! I'm really gay for him! He's so good to me (I'm trans, he's cis, he offers to fight people for making me sad) and just wow am I lucky!!!!!!! We're house hunting btw and I can't wait to live with him!!!!! ☀️💜
cute!!! i love it!!!! i hope you guys find a nice house and have a lovely life living together aweeeee im !!!
When I was a kid Sensei Brown at the Koroshi school of Defense gave me my first bo staff. I brought it everywhere with me. The day it broke I also learned that I could go to the Lumber Yard and they had a whole aisle full of “bo staves” of different lengths, thicknesses and woods.
TLDR: Practice your damn katas until your staff breaks
I work at a lumber yard right next to the train tacks, they are literally about ten feet away from our walls. As you can imagine it can get pretty loud when the train passes by however, I have learned to tune it out after working there for a while. One of my co-works has not despite working there far longer than I have. One day he got feed up and flipped off the train as it passed and yelled obsenities at it. He took to doing this every time it passed by for about a week. Somehow one of the conductors noticed this.
Now you can tell if its that conductor because they will blow the whistle the entire time it passes by our yard and even as it goes way off into the distance down the tracks. Needless to say my coworker is not amused but it just makes the rest of us laugh.
Request - “Can you hook me up with a Sam x reader that takes place in the episode ‘Yellow Fever’ where the reader gets the ghost sickness and is scared a lot by everything instead of Dean. Reader is dating Sam and is a badass hunter but the sickness makes her hide behind him and holds onto him a lot and he thinks it’s adorable and he comforts her a lot”
A/N - There was a lot more I wanted to add to this but it’s sooo long already. Sorry it took all day to get this one up! I was super tired after work so I kinda ended up taking a long nap. Enjoy!
You tilt your head as you look over the files Sam hands you “I don’t get it, the vic was a 44 year old marathon runner. One day he’s healthy and the next he just goes out Elvis-style minus the can?“ you slap the file shut and toss it up on the dashboard of the Impala “that don’t make a lick of sense” You look over to see Sam biting back a smile and you flash him a confused smirk “What’s so funny?” him just does his “impressed” face and shrugs “Nothin’ babe, you just kinda sound like a mixture of Bobby and Dean more and more these days” You smile widely before scooting closer to him and resting your chin on his shoulder. You run your fingertip along his cheek and push a stray piece of hair behind his ear “I love you Sammy, ya damn idjit” He choked out an “I love you too” as he laughed openly. The two of you talked, laughed and sang on the top of your lungs on your way to Rock Ridge, Colorado.
“Agents, meet Frank O’Brien” the coroner exclaimed as he pulled back the sheet that covered a body on a slab. You and Sam look him over Frank but notice nothing out of the ordinary except the tan line on his left ring finger and some scratches on his arms. Sam requested an autopsy after looking over Frank and naturally, the coroner wanted you to help out. Overall it went just like it had any other time you picked at a dead man’s bones. The only thing that went different besides being handed the guys insides was “spleen juice” being sprayed into Sam’s face. After you were done, you thanked the coroner and made your way right to the Sheriff’s office “I don’t know, it’s still not…right” Sam ran a hand through his hair as the two of you walked across the parking lot with your feet hitting the ground in unison.
Al Britton’s office reeked of anti-bacterial chemicals with a small hint of booze. Not even a second after shaking your hands, he was basically bathing in hand sanitizer. You spoke to him about Frank, finding out that they were long time friends that were on a baseball team together. You also found out that Frank seemed to be afraid of something and hid away before he died.
Next stop was the home of Mark Hutchins, a reptile-loving neighbor of the vic’s. As you talked to him, Sam couldn’t help but to notice that you were shifting in your seat uncomfortably and looking around at all of the animals in the room with an alerted look on your face while itching your left arm slightly. “Y/N, are you ok? You seem a little…off” he asked as you were headed to your motel “Hmm?” you look over to him before glancing at the speedometer and taking a deep breath “I…I’m fine Sam, how bout you slow down a little huh?” Sam scoffed and looked down at the speedometer himself then flipped his hands in confusion “Babe, I’m only going five over the speed limit” The grip you had on your knee tightened as you started talking again “Well anything can happen Sammy, slow down please” Sam rested his hand on yours gently and rubbed circles on the back of it as he let up on the gas, bringing the Impala down to the speed limit.
Once you got to the motel, Sam was through with your strange behavior. You jumped every time he started talking and squeezed his hand whenever made a left turn. Even though he thought it was really kind of adorable, he knew this just wasn’t like you. He grabbed his EMF reader from his backpack and flipped it on. The lights and sound coming from it intensified when he made his way toward you which made his face grow more and more confused “Uh, Y/N?” You gasp at the blaring lights on the detector and proceed to fully freak out “Sam?! Sam am I haunted?” you started to breathe heavy and grip Sam’s shirt tightly “Am I haunted?!” he shook his head and pulled you into a hug, placing his chin on the top of your head. Secretly, Sam loved seeing your vulnerable side coming out because you always played it so tough and it was nice feeling like you needed him but at the same time he didn’t like you being so afraid “I’m gonna find out, don’t worry”
“Thanks Bobby” Sam said lowly into his cell before hanging up. He turned to you and shrugged “So get this, Bobby thinks it might be ghost sickness” your eyes widened and you froze “Ghost sickness? Sounds dangerous, sounds like chaos, sounds like death. What is it?” Sam chuckled before taking a seat next to you. He tried not to get too serious because he didn’t want to scare you but his tone was far from joking “Ghost sickness is when a ghost infects a human with a disease, it’s contagious so based on your personality…me and Bobby think you might have gotten it from Frank O’Brien”
“My personality? What do you mean?” the defensiveness in your tone made Sam laugh slightly “Well basically, you’re…a…let’s just say you’re a little aggressive” You open your mouth to argue back but just shrug and lay back on the bed instead “Tell me more about this ghost sickness” Sam slightly raises his eyebrows and his mouth hangs open for a moment before he speaks again “Well uh, the symptoms are that your get anxious, you get scared then you get really scared then your heart gives out on you” at this point you were ironically on the verge of a panic attack “Awesome” you say, your voice laced with sarcasm “how long do I have?” Sam looked at you with a pained face “About 24 hours”
The itchiness got worse as you listened to Sam rule out the ghost of Jessie O’Brien, Frank’s wife that committed suicide. She was cremated and left nothing behind. After doing some digging online, Sam left to do some footwork and see what he could find. When he came back, the clock was broken and so was the mirror, he walked over to the sink and saw a small puddle of blood with a wood chip in it. Sam scanned over the room then his eyes fell on you sitting on the end of the bed “Y/N” he walks over to you and crouches down “hey, I know this is freaking you out but I think I have an idea of what’s going on. We have to go to the lumber yard” His voice was soft and his touch was gentle but it didn’t help put you at ease, your heart was still racing.
Sam had to do all but throw you over his shoulder and carry you into the mill. You wouldn’t take your gun, you wouldn’t walk unless Sam was holding your hand or touching your shoulder which made it kind of hard to be prepared for the ghost he was searching for. Every sound made you scream or jump and grab Sam’s arm or hide behind him. He couldn’t help but to chuckle and kiss your forehead whenever you did. Finally, after looking for a while you found the ghost of Luther Garland. The second you saw that ghost, you were nowhere to be found.
Sam knew that he was gonna need help with this but you needed to stay in the motel room. He called Bobby and Dean to come out to Colorado. They helped him with the rest of the investigating, questioning Garland’s brother and coming up with a plan to gank Luther. Meanwhile, the sheriff was at your door. His sleeve was soaked in blood, that’s when you realized he had the sickness too. He babbled on about Frank O’Brien and how he helped Frank go free after brutally murdering Luther who, had a harmless crush on his wife and was assumed to be the reason she went missing. While you were busy wondering why he was telling you all this, Britton rushed you. After a long struggle and rough fight, he hit the floor hard. You watched as the heart attack drained the life out of him. You check the clock….damnit, only a half hour left.
You felt a tight constriction around your heart and a pain in your left arm as your worst fear popped up right beside you. Trying to stay strong against it was no easy feat and you could feel yourself losing the fight.
Five minutes and counting.
At thirty seconds, you close your eyes and accept your fate. You wait for death to come but it never did, all of the pain went away and you felt better than you had in days. Your phone rings after a minute “Sammy?” you call into the phone sounding happy but confused “How’s my little scardey cat?” you could almost hear the grin on his face “I’m okay…better” You take a deep breath and shake your head “If you tell anyone else about me running from that ghost, Sam I will kill you” Laughter comes from the other end of the line “Hey Y/N! Don’t worry, you can always bring your teddy bear with you on the next hunt” you scoff and yell into the phone “Shut up Dean!” you hang up the phone just as his laughter gets louder.
Please do not create any kind of garden box, garden bed, etc. out of chemically-treated pallets or treated (pressure-treated/wolmanized) wood. Many contain heavy metals like copper, arsenic, and insecticides. If nothing else, do some proper research first. I know the employees at Home Depot and other lumber yards are required to use gloves when handling treated wood. Something with that level of toxicity is not what I want in my garden or in my soil, or in daily contact with my skin.