theth0ughtdaughter
꧁How lucky am I to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard? ꧂18Just a gorwl
63 posts
Latest Posts by theth0ughtdaughter
Yandere Memes Compilation (HSR)
I decided to try something new! I was giggling the whole time😼 I hope y’all like it! Lemme know if you want more!
The cuties🥹
LOOK !! KITTIES!!
prepare for trouble & make it double!
This is hilarious, I love it😭😭
BEEP BEEP! YOUR RIDE IS HERE!
"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳."
Sypnosis: You ordered an Uber to get home— but something about your driver is… off. Not in a dangerous way, just weird. Genre: Fluff/Crack Characters: Blade, Boothill, Aventurine x gn!reader Warnings: NEVER let Boothill drive you around. Lots of reckless driving (keep your eyes on the road and follow traffic laws guys), Aventurine gambling addiction core, reader just gives up on Blade's part LMAO, a lot of cussing, this is pretty ooc😭 A/N: Heh...how long has it been since I last posted?! This has been rotting in my drafts for quite a while so take this as an apology [masterlist] [about me]
BOOTHILL
It’s well-known that Boothill has a reputation for stealing vehicles and disregarding traffic laws while he was in Penacony, so it’s safe to say he’s probably not the best Uber driver around.
But you were exhausted. Your feet were aching from walking around the city, and you were way too far from the train station. Besides, it was late, and at this point, calling an Uber seemed like your only option. You scroll through the app, frustration building as you realize there’s no one available to pick you up at this hour— except for one driver.
Boothill.
The name itself was odd, but you figured, why not give it a try?
That is, until you started reading the ratings and reviews. Now you’re regretting your decision and seriously considering texting your friends and family the car details, just in case.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 3 out of 5 stars. “A very odd fellow, and he almost got us both into a car crash!” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 2 out of 5 stars. “I was a drunk passenger, but honestly, I can’t tell if I was the one who was drunk or if it was him.” ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 0 out of 5 stars. “Does this guy even have a license? He’s seriously reckless! But I’ll admit, he managed to speed across the streets and get me to my destination on time, even though I was running late.” >Cyborg69 replied: "Oi, don't cha think I should get at least 3 stars for that?"
You barely have time to read another review when a sharp honk pulls you out of your thoughts.
Beep!
"Hey, you the one who ordered an Uber?" A rough, almost drawling voice calls out, and you look up to see a man with black-tipped bangs leaning out of his car window. In all honesty, he looks pretty decent— well, as decent as someone can look when you realize they’re not exactly human. Penacony really does attract the strangest people.
His fingers tap against the car door, a playful grin spreading across his face as he gestures toward the vehicle. "Hop in! Front or back, your choice." he says with a casual shrug. You pick the back seat, deciding it’s the safest bet.
As you settle into the car, you’re immediately hit by the sharp, almost overpowering scent of gasoline. It catches you off guard, and you can’t help but wince. He notices your expression in the rearview mirror and lets out a low chuckle, rolling down all the windows with a flick of his hand. "Heh, sorry ‘bout the smell. Kinda rushed to... ya know, grab some fuel."
If his ratings didn’t already make you second-guess this ride, the way he spoke just sealed the deal.
“Oh! Uh, that’s fine.” You force a smile, nervously buckling your seatbelt as he starts driving. At first, everything seems normal. You keep glancing at him through the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting his for a few seconds before he quickly looks away, whistling casually.
"Don’t hafta keep lookin' at me, sweetheart. I ain’t no danger." He flashes a smile, but it doesn’t do much to ease your nerves. "So, headin’ home?" he asks, and you nod slowly, giving him an address near your place for him to drop you off.
As the drive continues, your gaze shifts to the interior of the car, and you can’t help but feel a little weirded out by some of the decor. A heart-shaped pillow? Really? That didn’t exactly match the vibe you’d expect. And a bottle of perfume— one that definitely looked like it belonged to a woman. Maybe he just liked the scent, but still, it felt… odd. After all, men’s perfumes could be strange sometimes. Who wants to smell like wolf shit and pig ass anyway?
Then again, he did kind of fit that description.
Maybe he liked the scent of blood— because suddenly, he floors the accelerator, speeding down the highway, earning a chorus of honks from terrified drivers.
“woAH!” you shriek, the force slamming you back into your seat. Your hands instinctively grab the handle above the door, knuckles white as the car swerves dangerously.
“Oops, sorry.” His voice comes out nonchalantly, but there’s no trace of remorse on his face— just that stupid grin. “Hold on tight! These folks on the road are way too slow.” With a wild yell, he floors the gas again, pushing the car even faster.
At this point, you’re just praying that if the car flips, you’ll go down with it. You didn’t want to survive whatever mess would follow if he really did manage to send the car tumbling. Your heart’s pounding in your chest, and you scream again in pure horror, watching him laugh as he skillfully dodges every car in his path.
“What the actual FUCK are you doing?!” you scream, feeling your life flash before your eyes.
“I’m driving! What else am I doing? Taking a dookie?” he retorts with a scoff, eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. You glance back, and your stomach drops: blue and red lights. Are there cops behind you?
“Uh, ignore the cops, darlin’.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Pretend this is just some free clubbing lights for ya.”
You panic, a fresh wave of terror rushing over you. "I don't want to fucking club!"
"Woah there, panic at the disco, heheh."
You don’t find his joke funny at all when he suddenly misses the turn to your house, and for a brief moment, you actually consider choking him out from the backseat just to make him stop. But then, something heavy falling in the car catches your eye.
Wait. Was that a gun? Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
He must’ve noticed your body stiffen in horror, because his free hand quickly rummages through his pockets. With a groan, he mutters, “Oh my Aeons— sorry, that’s my gun.” He clears his throat, and you can only deadpan at him, your mind racing. The reviews on his profile had to be way too generous. He didn’t deserve 0 stars. Hell, he should be banned, his license revoked, and his profile deleted.
But of course, he tries to reassure you. “Don’t worry, that’s, uh… a toy gun. For unruly passengers, ya know? Get it?” His sharp teeth flash in a grin, and you swear, for a split second, you see a glint of something dangerous. Then he curses some censored version of a swear word under his breath. “Ah, crap…I missed your turn.”
Yeah, you’re never booking an Uber again.
The car screeches as he whips it into a sharp U-turn, sending a cloud of smoke from the tires. You glance over to the police officer in the next lane— his bright blue eyes reflecting dim streetlights, a black-haired guy with an unreadable expression. But it’s the person sitting in the backseat that catches your attention. Two glowing golden eyes peer out from the window, face pressed against the glass.
“What the heck do they want from you?!” you scream, your body drenched in sweat as you grip the seat, heart racing.
Boothill shrugs nonchalantly. “Ehh... I dunno.”
Oh, he definitely knows.
He suddenly slams the brakes, and you slam forward, your face colliding with the back of his seat. Before you even have a chance to recover, you scramble out of the car, your breath ragged. But something catches your eye— there’s a pair of black heels in the backseat.
Wait. What?
“Think of this ride as, uh— on the house, ‘kay?” Boothill calls out from the window, giving you a thumbs-up with his metal fingers. You can barely catch your breath as you clutch your chest, your heart still racing.
“I’m kinda in a sticky situation— er…” His voice trails off as the sirens grow louder. He grunts, pulling the handbrake, but not before shouting at you as he slams the gas and speeds off.
“Remember to give me 5 stars on the Uber app!”
You stand frozen, staring in disbelief as his car disappears into the distance. Your mind is still reeling, trying to process what just happened, when the police car whips past you in a blur of lights and sirens. And then, you hear it— a panicked scream.
“HE’S DRIVING AWAY WITH HIMEKO’S CAR—"
AVENTURINE
After a long night of clubbing, you called an Uber, eager to escape the blinding lights and noise and head home. But what you didn’t expect was stepping into what felt more like another club than a car ride.
This didn’t feel like an Uber at all. The backseat was spacious, plush even, with a basket full of snacks— gum, chips, candy, just about anything you could imagine.
“Feel free to take whatever you want, yeah? It’s an accommodation,” a smooth voice drawls, and damn, you did not expect your Uber driver to be someone so... dazzling. A pretty blonde guy with striking purple and blue eyes, his gaze cool and calm. His cologne was strong but intoxicating, a heady mix of something sweet yet fresh.
"Are you sure I can take the snacks? No extra charge?" You raise an eyebrow, hesitating as you reach for a packet of chips.
"No extra charge," he repeats with a smirk, his hands casually gripping the wheel. He taps his fingers on the leather-covered steering wheel as he waits patiently for the car in front of him to move.
You mumble a quiet thanks before grabbing a few packets of chips and stuffing them into your bag, quickly buckling up your seatbelt. As you settle in, you start taking in your surroundings. One look at this guy, and it’s pretty obvious he’s loaded. The seats are unbelievably comfortable, and the extra touches in the snack basket are a little surprising. Alongside the chips, there are bottles of mineral water and other beverages, perfect if you’re parched. And judging by the brand of the snacks and drinks, it’s clear— this is first-class treatment. Something you’d expect to find on a luxury flight.
Suddenly, a tiny dice clatters against your leg. You freeze, slowly picking it up, unsure of what to make of it. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation, his grin widening as he speaks.
“Roll the dice,” he says, his tone playful. “The number you land on will decide where you’re going.”
You blink, completely caught off guard. “I’m sorry— what?” you stare at him in disbelief. “I just wanna go home, dude.” You hand the dice back to him awkwardly, hoping he’ll drop it.
He tuts, the sound almost childlike. “Ah, no, no, no. I offered you some wonderful snack choices, the least you could do is play along with my game.” He whines, like a petulant child, and you’re starting to feel uneasy. But there’s something about him that doesn’t scream dangerous— just weird. Definitely weird, like the one Uber driver you met last month.
“…And what is this about?” You furrow your brow, a little frustrated. “You’re an Uber driver, shouldn’t you listen to your customer on where they want to go?” You toss the dice back toward him.
“Please,” he suddenly pleads, slumping in his seat dramatically. “I have a gambling addiction.”
You raise an eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. “What does that have to do with me?” You glance down at the dice now sitting in your palms.
He lets out a dramatic sigh, his eyes glazed over with a mix of frustration and longing. “My job banned me from going to casinos for a week,” he mutters. “So, I took this Uber job to kill time. The only way to salvage my boredom is to have my customers gamble for me.”
This Uber driver is definitely fucking weird.
“And what is your job, besides being an Uber driver...?” you ask, gulping slightly as you glance around his car, trying to pick up on any clues. His outfit, the decor, anything that might give you an idea of what’s going on.
“Well… I work for the IPC—”
“Okay, I get it now,” you quickly cut him off, your face twisting into an expression of judgment and unease. Those three letters were all you needed to hear. Of course, he worked for the IPC. All the people you've met affiliated with the IPC were just off. Like that strange Uber driver from last month? He was a huge IPC hater— and, oh yeah, he robbed a car. Then there was that girl you ran into last week, the one who casually introduced herself as an IPC worker. And trailing behind her? This bizarre creature that looked like an anteater... or a dolphin— you’re not even sure. You overheard it was her pet, but you’ve never seen anything like that in your life.
"Hey," he sighs, sitting up straighter in the seat. You’re desperately hoping he’ll drop the dice nonsense and just start driving already, but he stays put, even though the car in front of you has been long gone.
"I know the IPC has a bad reputation," he says, "but I promise you I’m not that bad."
"Yeah... not that bad for a guy who has a price on the IPC’s head," you mutter under your breath, and you catch the flash of recognition in his eyes.
“Oh! Boothill?”
You instantly regret even saying anything.
“I bumped into that guy last week— well, more like he crashed into my car,” he continues, seemingly unphased by your discomfort. “At first, he apologized. Then, out of nowhere, he pulled a gun on me and—”
Without thinking, you hurl the dice somewhere in the car, scramble to get out, and bolt for the door, heart racing.
"No tip???"
BLADE
It hadn’t even been five minutes in the car, and your driver was already chastising you.
"You're breathing too loudly in my car."
You freeze, immediately holding your breath, your hands clutched tightly in your lap. "I apologize—"
"Don’t talk."
You bite your lip, feeling your patience slip. Let me just fucking die then, I guess, you think, staring blankly out the window.
You glance over at the drawer in the car and notice a piece of paper peeking out. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tug it out, only to find the words written in... lipstick?
“𝒲𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓴𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓅, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒸𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝑒. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒!~"
What the hell? Why are all the drivers like this? You can't even begin to describe it anymore.
"If you're feeling afraid right now, I suggest you get off," his deep voice cuts through the silence, and without missing a beat, you nod— pushing open the door while he’s still driving and rolling out onto the pavement.
reader rn:
Literally me in calc rn, wtf is csc sec and cot stop speaking Gaelic to me I don't understand this😭😭
Dr Ratio x Reader
Dr Ratio tries to teach y/n basic algebra (and cries doing so, they are just that stupid)
"You do what's in the parenthesis first,"
This was too hard.
With great regret, you had asked Dr. Ratio to help you with understanding algebra. You didn't even really care for the subject that much, but apparently you had to understand it in order to learn the cooler math. Which sucked - why couldn't you just do the interesting stuff first? This doesn't really seem related to anything, honestly.
But according to him, this was a basic foundation of mathematics.
Which sucked. It was so stupid. Why were there letters in this? You were pretty sure math is about numbers.
How does x even equal a number? You wouldn't know, because you were stuck on this problem for over twenty minutes now.
This was question 3 on the quiz he gave you. A simple one. He just wanted to go over the basics he had lectured you about. Which left you stuck in the same seat you had watched him lecture from, your ass already sore from sitting for so long. Unfortunately, freedom was far away as you got completely lost on how to solve any of these problems.
5(x+1)=2(x-5)-6
You tried to subtract the 1 out of the parenthesis, to bring it to the other side. This was how it's done, right?
Looking up, you saw his mask covering his face. So you didn't know if you were doing what you should be. So you just kept going.
Somehow you got 1/5.
That probably wasn't the right answer. But whatever.
Dr. Ratio was making weird noises at this point. He loomed over you, his abs almost hitting the top of your head as he watched - once in a while his thigh would hit the back of your chair, reminding you of whatever thought process he had. However he saw what you were doing from underneath that mask, you just knew he was judging you.
Carefully, you focused on the next problem.
The seething professor behind you hadn't allowed you to use a calculator - according to him, it was far too easy. Something one can easily do in their head.
It felt a little more embarassing to have to do the subtraction on the side. You don't remember 54-12 off of the top of your head, and you weren't a math god. So you had to do this each time. The side of your paper was riddled with lines that broke down or added numbers.
"That's not right."
He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning down even further as he took his other hand and scrutinized the paper in front of him. The mask on his face brushed against your head, and it was unexpected - it didn't feel cold nor warm, simply just room temperature. It wasn't as hard as stone either.
"I thought the point of a quiz was for me to figure it out, not the teacher."
There was no point in arguing with him though. You were tired and your hand hurt.
"You can't even figure it out. At this point, this is a form of torture," The way he said that made it sound as if he was in more pain than you.
"Did you listen to anything that I had said?"
"Yeah." No the fuck you did not.
"None of your answers should be fractions. You also can't even follow the order of operations."
"I did the parenthesis like you said-"
"You just keep doing addition and subtraction. Not even well, since you make very simple mistakes."
You looked to where he was pointing; 39+42=71. That looked pretty correct to you.
"That's right though?"
"No. No, it's not. You missed an entire ten. It's 81," he sighed as he said this as if talking to a stupid child, curt but not able to truly express how he felt. Maybe he was justified in that response.
"Oh." You didn't know how he got that answer, but he was certainly right. Oops.
"You can't do algebra since you can't even do the basics. Do you even know how to multiply?"
"Yeah, I can-"
"Without a calculator. With double digits,"
He had taken off his mask, placing it to the side as he really started to scrutinize you; the hair on his forehead stuck to his skin slightly, having one bang that stubbornly clung to his nose and batting close to his eyelashes. The man even took a seat next to you, his eyes looking at yours and then back to the paper. As if he was in disbelief.
You could only shake your head. This was hard, and you could feel the frustration build up in your eyes as he only looked and scrutinized your paper further.
"You need to learn the basics again."
"This is the basics, right?"
"No. You can't even multiply or divide. That is elementary."
In shame, you put down your pencil and tried to hide your face behind your hands. You were never going to be able to do the cool math, were you? Like how to calculate the burger number. That's the cool math.
You heard the pencil be picked up by another hand, one that is a little too close to you - Dr. Ratio's shoulder brushed against yours, his bare and slutty arm taking up more than enough of your personal space.
"Let's go over this next problem. I'll explain it as you go along."
He was already giving you tips while you did the quiz, but that's fine. You have already dug yourself into a pit of shame and despair as you failed to do, apparently, basic math. So what would be one more embarrassing failure?
Taking the pen from his rather warm hand, you went back too it.
"So, how would you start this problem?"
At this point, his finger was just pointing at hieroglyphs. The letters with the numbers made it rather hard to comprehend what you were looking at.
"The parenthesis."
"There is no parenthesis in this," he frowned at you, continuing his streak of major disappointment. "Order of operations, PEMDAS, so what is your next step?"
"...multiply?"
"0 points. You do the exponents."
"So, the x with the little two."
You were sure that he blanked out on that one. His face had fallen into a strange expression, as if he had seen shadows move in his peripheral vision, as if he were followed by shadow people; a sort of pre-horror look.
"You do know what x squared means, correct?"
"How does x become a square? I still don't get that."
His face morphed into something else. Frustration, shock, agony. It could mean a lot of things, but his reaction was so strong you could taste it.
"You don't know what exponents are, do you?"
"...no."
You would think he would have understood this given how you were apparently bad at everything else. But it looked like you had slapped him and kicked his dog, from the look he gave you.
"By aeons what do you know!?"
"...1+1?"
He slammed his hands against the table. Your pencil rolled away from you from the shockwave, hitting the floor with a clatter as Ratio made loud facial expressions from underneath his hands. It looked as if he were a Shakespearian character who had been stabbed in the heart.
His breaths were heavy, his chest heaving with every attempt. One of his amber eyes peaked at you from underneath his slender fingers, staring at you as if you were a stubborn puzzle that did not wish to be solved.
There was something he wanted to say, but instead there was only a small noise that came from his throat. The stare he gave you could shatter glass.
"Are you okay, professor?"
He shook his head. The man turned to look at nothing, his face cradled in the palm of his hand.
"I have never met anyone like you."
That wasn't a compliment. But you were going to take it as one. That's the best you could do in this situation, honestly.
The man put his head down onto the table, one of his hands threading through his hair. You reached your hand out to his shoulder, patting him lightly in order to comfort.
You didn't see it, but there were tears pooling around his eyes, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down.
Authors note: I don't know what this is, I'm just trying to grasp ratios character. If it's OOC then that's cause i haven't even gotten to penachony yet.
Also the burger number is real it's called whopper and was literally named after the burger King sandwich. The more you know.
Reblog daily for health and prosperity
official elon musk hate post reblog to hate like to hate reply to hate
ᥫ᭡
adding to my collection, need more
Strangling him with our red string of fate
What an idiot (lovingly)
sylus dancing off beat because he canonically has a hard time (cannot recognize) recognizing melodies and patterns
like what do you MEAN, how do i recover from this 😭 my precious dragon baby
makima is listening
Everyone is after that chainsaw heart!
the way this is one of the least weird requests he's had for denji
A devil who makes people remember their worst traumas/a devil who makes its beloved remember their best memories
🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨
Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.
The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.
64.media.tumblr.com
64.media.tumblr.com
64.media.tumblr.com
64.media.tumblr.com
64.media.tumblr.com
We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.
Our Current Situation:
💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.
How You Can Help:
I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.
Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.
What This Means to Us:
Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.
Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.
With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️
✅️ Vetted by ✅️
@gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #309 )✅️
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fanfiction is so awesome. some of the most brilliant writers youve ever met are writing the most crazy porn youve ever seen. does that not move you
luigi mangionie whimper audio
the walter white experience™
Walter junior my goat
ONE MORE THING Walter jr is the literal highlight of the series and Marie can kick rocks all the way back to loserville
Lowkey just finished Breaking Bad... I cried like 7 times, the ending was kinda underwhelming wasn't it? I mean, how it all ended ig. I feel sad because I really liked Todd and I feel so bad for Jesse🥹🥹 I'll watch El Camino next it's a continuation of Jesse after Walt. Also is it just me? I didn't actually hate Walt until Season 5 ep 13, I remember talking to my mom about breaking bad, she said I would start hating Walt soon, after the whole kid thing in season 3 but I didn't start hating Walt until that episode. I think there's a lot to be dissected from this series, philosophically wise.... maybe I'll expand sometime if anyone will listen. Anyways watch Breaking Bad!!
2021 is the year I finally get my shit together
i forgot to upload this here