novafirst1  asked:

🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like? 🎁 what never fails to make you happy? 🍀 if you could be any fictional character’s best friend/lover, which fictional character would you be? 🐧 describe yourself in 3 words 💫 who inspires you? 🍦 what is one treasured childhood memory? 🐼 if you could meet anyone, who would it be and why? // you don't have to do any/all of them but heres some and have fun jessica the maths hw is killing me :)

i’m gonna put the stuff under the cut since there’s lots of qs, also do u need help with the math it’s pretty easy?? unless page 16 is super hard or smth??

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Why Do So Many Bisexuals End Up In “Straight” Relationships?
When I started dating a woman for the first time after years of happily dating men, I had a go-to joke for when I was called upon to explain my sexual ...

Part of my thinking on pretty much anything is based on looking for a math based reason to explain it. This essay touches on a lot of other reasons, but the basic maths of “there are a lot more possible heterosexual partners” is pretty hard to argue against. Quantity has a quality of its own, to quote a random dictator.

Break up

Requested by: sammyxdeanxberry
Jude and Connor have broken up which leaves them devastated. Jude decides to move on and start dating while Connor remains single. The relationship doesn’t work but it manages to make Connor jealous, which eventually leads to a steamy moment.


So this is the first request I’ve written, if you feel like sending me some that’d be cool. Fair warning, there is a slight smutty scene, nothing serious, just making out.
The ending is very cliche but idgaf xD…

Hope you guys like it !

Break up

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Creepypasta #921: I’m Sorry I Cant Help You, Dear

Length: Super long

“Come on! We’re late” cried Isabella from outside my house. I looked out the window and held out my open hand to signal “wait.”

I grabbed my backpack and ran down the stairs and out through the door to meet one of my childhood friends. She was a fair-skinned, polite and easy-going girl who liked to keep her black hair with a pink bow. I smiled at her for a greet and she casually smiled back. This has been our routine every school day since our first year in high-school, when her parents realizing she was old enough to go to school by herself let her ride with me on our way. I unlocked the chain on my bike and we rode off.

School was pretty dull. Math is hard as ever, Social Science a badger, and Reading as boring.

I ran, as the last bell for the day rang, to get ahead for the cafeteria line. I bought three brownies and a bottle of orange juice. I was halfway through my second brownie when I got to the field where I would usually wait for Isabella and Ford. Ford, by the way, is a pretty stout guy, with a very fat brain for jokes.

It wasn’t long when Ford arrived. We sat down by the field to watch the soccer practice game. A few minutes in and Isabella came. She smiled and sat down with us. Goal! The red team just scored a ball. We clapped.

“Hey! Let’s go to the culture fair” Ford said, smiling eagerly.

“Yeah sure! I wanted to go there too” I answered enthusiastically. I’ve always loved trying new things.



“Alright then!” I said, satisfied. “How about we go in 5 minutes? I’ll just finish my drink.”


The culture fair was held in the university just two streets down our school. As it was open to anyone, we saw a couple of our teachers lined up for a burger stall and some schoolmates walking all around. It was a cheery atmosphere. We went and tried different booths. There was a marksmanship booth, a puzzle booth, a quiz table, and even a potato enthusiasts stall.

There was one booth with a tent set up. The tent had starry patterns and some sort of tribal inscriptions. “Fortune-telling” the sign outside read. 

“Let’s go check it” Ford said.

There were three people lined up in front of us. Just when the customer inside was done with her consultation, Ford’s phone rang.

“Aww man! Sorry, guys, looks like I have to go. My dad’s here waiting in the car. See ya!”

We said our goodbye’s and see ya’s.

It wasn’t a long wait until we were up. We peeked inside before entering. There in the far side of the fabric-built room was a middle-aged woman politely signalling for us to enter.

“Good afternoon, ma'am” I said.

“Good afternoon, dear. Please take seat and relax.” she kindly answered.

She promptly began her reading. She reached out a hand in my direction and asked for mine. Upon the first touch of my hand, her light-mood face seemed to shift to a wearier state. She carefully examined the lines on my palm. I remember comparing it in my mind to how a forensics investigator would examine a crime scene.

After examining it, she let go and reached for a small, obviously worn-out, brown book. She flipped through a couple of pages and whispered very faint phrases to herself. She put down the book and looked at me with those now weary eyes.

She gave a long sigh.

And another.

She began to clear her throat.

“Dear, have you seen supernatural things?”

“No” I politely answered.

“Have you seen anything you think is unnaturally mysterious?”

“No. Uhmm. No, I don’t think so.”

“Well- dear, I’m-” she stuttered. “I’m really sorry. You went here to get a reading on your future but I’m afraid I have disappointed you.”

She paused. I stared silently.

“There is something that clouds my vision of your life.” she reluctantly continued. “Now, dear, I give you the choice, the full option, of whether you would like to know or not what clouds my vision.”

Scared as I was, as I admittedly am very easy to scare, I was naturally intrigued on what she had to say.

“Please go ahead, ma'am.”

“Are you sure, boy?”




She looked at me questioningly and at the same time very wearily.

“Let me warn you. This is grave. What I see is very grave.”

“Please tell.”

As she opened her mouth to speak, she suddenly stopped and cleared her throat and wrinkled her forehead as if she was thinking of another thing to say.

“Someone-” she finally began. “Someone is following you” she said.

“What?” I cried. Chills ran through my back and a cold shiver passed my arms.

“Someone is following you. Every-e-everywhere you go."she said with an obvious stuttering of fear. "I’m sorry I cannot help you, dear. I strongly suggest you go ask a man of the church to help you. And pray harder if you pray. And stay close to people who you think can protect you.”

This ominous warning scared the shit out of me. I was too scared and too confused with what I felt that I stood up and bid the lady goodbye angrily. Just as I was exiting, Isabella, who I had actually forgotten was with me due to all the mysterious tension, stood up and walked towards the exit too. She went out first. As I exited I briefly looked back and saw the fear-stricken face of the woman.

I remembered something about what she said earlier and decided to ask.

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When came home from working on my paper yesterday, I found my daughter had made me an elaborate balloon board. She’d taken balloons, and stuck them to a cardboard in little niches along the side. She handed me a pin and says “Pop them! They have surprises!”

Inside all of them were little scraps of paper that said nice things about me. Things like “NICE!” “PRETTY” “LOVES ME" “KNOWS HARD MATH” “CAN SPELL STUFF WITHOUT THE GOOGLE”


I studied so hard for this math quiz last week and I got a 27%
And then I studied SO HARD for the math quiz today like so hard
And I’m pretty sure i bombed it I’m so done


SCIENCE: Women encouraged to “not worry their pretty little heads” about maths, science, technology and other hard stuff, because their brains “just aren’t made for it”, say scientists.

Well, we say scientists. Look, the bloke had a white coat on! What more do you people need?

In other news, it’s 2015. And they still ran this.