Rentherainbringer - ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

I was raised atheist, but I had random exposure to a bunch of insane baptists (grandparents), I still do not understand Christianity in the slightest.

Also, I got banned from Sunday School.

I was raised protestant, and I have actually never met a catholic person in real life. Probably seen them on the street while travelling, but never had an actual conversation with one. Most of what I know about them is that they got custody of all the cool art in the divorce.

what I think will happen if I message my mutuals

I like to think that during Buck’s first year at the 118, he was enthusiastically taking any shift he could because he loves being a firefighter and his real life is lonely.

Then one day, he comes into work and Bobby is just like, come with me. They get in Bobby’s car and he drops Buck off at his house, “If you keep going like this, you’re going to burn out. Take the time.”

And then a few hours later, the 118 comes back from a call and Buck is in the loft. Making a grilled cheese.

Bobby gives him a look like, what the hell. Buck’s eyes go wide and he asks genuinely, “You meant all day?”

"kindness is punk <3" ok that's great but do you mean giving money to homeless people and listening to people of color and calling out racism when you see it and having compassion for drug addicts or do you mean like. holding the door open for people sometimes

This applies to plots that take course over a year, like "what if these people were experiencing the worst year of their entire life and you got to see the highlight reel??"

I love movies where the plot takes place in less than a day. It’s like. What if these people were experiencing the worst 8 hours of the entire lives and you got to see the highlight reel?

This is my discomfort character I want to see them in unimaginable pain

My brain works like this

Highschool

—random Drabble with you, Larry and Sal at school.

Tw: mentions of underage drinking and drug use.

Putting your books away with a sigh, you let your head drop roughly against the desk. A loud enough noise that even Travis shot you a glare.

Class was boring. Like really boring. Like so boring you even watched Sal draw weird little triangle head people beef with square heads then die in a big scribble hole.

You didn’t study for the test— of course you didn’t. You never did, always preferred to spend your evenings at Larry’s place or Sal’s if he wasn’t already at Larry’s. You were a good test taker, didn’t need to study, just semi listened and managed to make good grades. An average A, B student.

Larry would always look over with that stupid ‘I don’t know what the fuck just happened’ and you’d just shrug with a smile. Just to have your test handed back to you with a 86. And oh he’d glare you and poke your rib with his middle finger.

You were the type of student to slack off, smoke pot and drink shitty beer on the weekends with your friends.

Your future was empty except for your knack at piercing. You’d given Larry a piercing on his left ear— he’d gone on some long ass rant about how the right ear is the gay ear and he needed to at least kiss a girl before college— seeing as this would be your senior year.

You pierced Ashley’s nose piercing, as well as her naval but you’d made her cough up a $20 for that.

“Use both eyes, freak.” Travis sneered, that ugly look on his face directed at you.

You’d zoned out but his comment was enough to get you to lock back into life. “You kiss your daddy with that mouth?” You’d stolen it from Sal, who only rolled his eyes behind his prosthetic as he stood up.

“You little bitch!” Travis stood up, about to charge up to you but Larry stood in front of you.

He’d gotten taller and started working out more, which was a bonus in so many ways because now Travis was backing up like a little bitch and grumbling as he walked out.

“Never stop working out.” You patted Larry’s shoulder, before slinging your bag over your shoulders.

“It’s cuz I’m so hot right?” Larry wiggled his brows but just sighed when you pinched his nose, before promptly pushing you away by your forehead. “You are such a pain in the ass.”

“I’m gonna crawl into your skin.”

“Just kill me now.”

“We’re missing lunch. Come on,” Sal groaned, almost as loud as his stomach.

“It’s bologna day.” Larry rose a brow at Sal.

“Let’s just eat outside.” Sal was quick to pull a 180 and walk out the doors of the school. Leaving the two of you in two.

“Hey so good news, I’m getting a car.” You dropped out of no where as the three of you sat down on the half empty school parking lot.

“What? What kind? And can you drive us?” Sal was immediately asking, eyeing you down like the solution to all his problems.

“Let me rephrase, I got the car, and drove myself here today. It’s right there.” Pointing to the shitty, beat down Chevy truck. The red paint scuffed and scratched— bumper hardly hanging on.

“Wow. What a shit box.” Larry deadpanned, just to sigh, stand up and walk to said shitbox, opening the door, immediately the inside of the door smacked against the ground, and he just side eyed you.

“What? We can fix it up. You two are men. Do your man stuff.” You waved them off before standing as well and stretching, “sooo let’s skip?”

“This is why we’re friends.” Sal walked to the backseat and slid in, situating himself so he was sat in the middle of the two front seats so he could see.

“Your not even gonna try to get front seat?” Larry eyed him from the side.

“No. If she wrecks I’m gonna be the safest.” He shrugged and leaned back against the seat.

“Wait, shit, let’s swit-“

“Sit your ass down.” You huffed and forced him into the car before getting into the drivers side. You had to wait a while before actually cranking it all the way, the whole process was sad.

“It’s totally gonna break down on the highway.” Sal sighed.

“He’s not an it. He’s a David.” You corrected before pulling out of the parking lot.

“David? You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Sal reached forward and changed the radio station.

“I’ll shit on you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late.”

“Children.” Larry buckled up immediately when you slammed on the breaks just to smash the gas peddle to gap some mom van. His hand on the oh shit bar.

“I’m so powerful. I could like pit maneuver whoever I wanted.” You drive with your knee, and rolled down the window with the window crank.

“Let me out. Wait. No. Please.” Sal’s voice was sarcastic as he pawed at the window.

“Your putting marks on my window, stop it you rat.” You reached back blindly and tried to slap his hand away but he just held you by the hand.

“Marks are the least you should worry about with this vehicle.” Sal and Larry snickered.

“Assholes.” You sighed.

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transgender snacks