#square root tricks

[edusquaremaths]

Square of numbers around 100 Part-1 | #squaretrick #vedicmaths #mathtricks #shortvideo #vedicmaths

Square Tricks | Maths Tricks | Vedic Maths| Square tricks for 101,102,103,104…Cool tricks by @EduSqaureMathsSquare Tricks | Multiplication Tricks | Square Tricks | Maths Tricks | Vedic Mathsshorts #short #shortvideo #mathsedusquaremaths #squareofanumber

[one-shitpost-a-day]

*square roots exist*

me: hey! that looks like division. division is easy. i know what to do here. wait...

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 25

"Groovy Little Summer Song" by James Otto

[sinceileftyoublog]

Superchunk Live Show Review: 7/8, Square Roots, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

From the Czar Bar to the middle of Lincoln Square: Such is the story of Superchunk’s three-decade history in Chicago. Looking on at the crowd Saturday night at Square Roots, it was clear to Mac McCaughan that not many people knew what he was talking about when he mentioned the long-defunct venue. You know what, though? That’s Superchunk’s fault for attracting a new generation of fans. Since 2010, the band has released three great and one very good post-hiatus records. Saturday night, the crowd was perhaps expecting to hear more of their latest, 2022′s Wild Loneliness (Merge); instead, the set was practically two-thirds old material, including a few deep cuts, geared towards perhaps the very people at the Czar Bar in the early 90′s.

Superchunk’s brand of indie rock never went out of style. Even when baroque instrumentation pervaded the sound of the who’s who of independent music, there were always fans of power pop-bordering on-pop punk to be found, somewhere in between Cheap Trick and the Warped Tour. McCaughan and company’s earnestness never wore off. During the Aughts, the band simply wasn’t releasing music, but as soon as they did again, they returned right where they left off. All of this is to say it makes sense that Superchunk could attract a wide variety of listeners, versatility they showed off better than ever on Saturday. The gentler-than-usual lilt of What A Time To Be Alive’s “Black Thread” found a kindred spirit in the sway of “Driveway to Driveway”, while burner like On the Mouth’s “Precision Auto” mirrored the urgency of Majestry Shredding’s “Learned To Surf” and I Hate Music's shout-along anthem “Me & You & Jackie Mittoo”.

Meanwhile, the festival offered an opportunity for established bands like Superchunk to reflect on themselves and the others playing, how far all of them have come. During their set, McCaughan shouted out the stage’s previous occupants, local alt rock legends Eleventh Dream Day, as well as the Mekons’ Jon Langford and Sally Timms, who both joined Eleventh Dream Day and played a set of their own across the grounds earlier in the day. As for those who weren’t there, Superchunk dedicated No Pocky for Kitty’s “Seed Toss” to the late Rick Froberg, the Pitchfork/Drive Like Jehu/Hot Snakes lead vocalist who passed away late last month. They unexpectedly ended their set not with a no-brainer like “Slack Motherfucker” but their version of Lou Barlow’s oft-covered “Brand New Love” from their 1992 Tossing Seeds singles compilation. On Monday, I looked at the band’s setlist at Thalia Hall the following night to find there was not much crossover. For the uninitiated and the familiar, every Superchunk show is an invitation to dive in or rediscover something great that just happens to have been there the whole time.

[numberonecodwomenfan]

i need more people to write soap as a math and science genius

like he is a human calculator. gaz shows it off as a party trick even though soap is the one actually doing something. like

“oy, look what my mate can do- soap, c’mere!”

and soap, who has done this a thousand times before, walks over.

“ok, ok- someone ask him a math problem. like- literally anything.”

someone gaz is talking to goes “uhh… seven radical three times the square root of nine,” and soap blinks a few times, stares at the ceiling for a moment, his fingers flick around a little, and about ten seconds later he says “36.37”

and someone pulls out a calculator and goes, “holy shit, he’s right!”

and soap is just like “are you done now?” so that he can finally go back to shamelessly hitting on his lieutenant.

[shortnsweetsposts]

Wonder!reader: She's gonna be one of the smartest girls there. Lizzie, what's the square root of 64?

Lizzie: 8!

Jon, Billy, Dick and a few other hero friends: *Clapped and Cheered*

Damian: Nice trick. Hey, Lizzie, what's the square root of this potato? *Holds up a half eaten potato*

Lizzie: 8!

Damian: Congratulations, you have a parrot.

Jon, Billy and Dick: 😬

Wonder!reader:

[heartdoomed]

heyyy I was wondering if you’d do a lil one shot with Mother Miranda where the reader is her maidservant and they’ve gotten pretty close and Miranda is working herself to death and the maid gently (and eventually a little more forcefully) encourages her to take a break. Lots of fluff ensues 😁 thank you for feeding the fandom you’re my hero 😂

First ask for our fav bird mom! Also thanks i’m a bit late for the party but I will try my best ✨

| Stubborn

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Maid! Reader

Genre: One-Shot, Fluff

Warnings: None

Masterlist

From a villager, to a follower, to a personal maid.

Your journey with Mother Miranda was something you never truly expected, something suddenly but that you held little resentment about nonetheless. Miranda was, and is, a figure you can’t fully grasp yourself into — like a seductive voice in the back of your mind that has no set tune, something that comes wickedly in a natural manner and you just can’t help but to accept as it is. When she first laid her eyes on you, something changed in your life and all of it’s aspects, that woman had cursed you, had you wrapped around her finger the moment she ordered you to serve under her. A high priestess — no, a goddess, and her little helpful subject.

It was a matter of mixed feelings between fear and respect. Sometimes you thought of her with fear, fear for your life and how you have been dragged into this snowscape of a village and into somehow managing to match the high hopes she held for someone so close to her. On the other hand, she emanated glory, a superiority everyone including yourself could see — you found yourself looking up to her, quite literally like she was your only savior, the effect she had on people, and on you, was unmatchable. Soon the duty to serve somehow turned into a feeling of honor, you’ve never felt this fulfilled to have this role.

//////

Your shoes quietly clicked as you made your way across yet another hallway, you always thought of Miranda’s manor as a labyrinth that you’ve grown fairly accustomed to. Dark walls that always seemed to close in with each curve and whispers that coincidentally also sounded like the blowing cold wind from the outer woods. It was cold, tainted by a heavy atmosphere, either your own mind playing tricks or something else rooted between those walls, at some point you felt embraced by the shadows somehow — sickly comforting.

Your hands held a square silver platter, carefully adorned with hand-made details and curls on its sides, so clean and shiny it almost seemed made of crystal glass. On top of it rested a a teapot with warm fresh tea you brewed yourself, herbs that were delivered weekly just as all the food you had access to cook — a tea cup and a plate with a generous piece of layered cake rested side by side. It was her usual snack for the afternoon, just another daily ritual you found somewhat soothing. You enjoyed cooking for her and unlike her past servants you gave her food a touch of familiarity she had missed — suddenly the food wasn’t just delicious but served with a touch of care that she managed to notice, it was rare the occasion she wouldn’t compliment your skills.

Your head became flooded with thoughts of past situations were she did took notice of your hard work; From carefully organizing mail into alphabetical order to amusingly adorning her freshly washed towels into the shape of flowers and bunnies, oh Miranda thought it was quite silly of you but nonetheless this only managed to make you two closer. You smiled to yourself, thinking of how you went from a scared new maid to someone you knew she started to trust, maybe to care? You weren’t sure but you surely knew you ended up caring.

But apparently not caring enough to pay attention to where you where going as you almost bumped straight up against her office doors. Your heart skipped a beat as you halted on your tracks, you held the silver platter closely to your chest and thanked your lucky stars to not have spilled anything out of place, how clumsy. Taking a big silent breath, you raised your hand towards her door to knock before stopping as the familiar voice of Miranda, muffled, but yet clear and sharp enough, came from inside.

“You should stop daydreaming while scattering around, you will end up hurting yourself. Come in.”

She pointed out. You cursed in your thoughts, rolling your eyes at being called out — she always managed to know of your shenanigans even when you tried to hide them, ridiculous. Shaking the embarrassing event away, you quietly opened the door to reveal a much less intimidating Miranda, one you had grown used to. Without her ceremonial robes and her imposing wings she felt much less like something to fear and more like something to respect — a woman with a commanding posture no matter the situation. You remember how strange it felt to see her this way for the first time, it was hard to change your half shocked expression though luckily she found it more amusing than anything else.

“I made cinnamon cake with whipped pumpkin cream and some honey tea… I thought it would be a good match for the entering of this fall season.” You announced before closing closing the door behind you, Miranda hummed at the description but her eyes were still set on the paperwork onto her desk — gosh, how you hated when she fell into her working streaks. Nights awake in her laboratory, continuous days locked into there office. “I… think it’s a good time for a break, no?” You gently offered, resting the platter in a less busy spot of her desk. Still, her eyes kept themselves focused on the countless words in each of the papers she held. It made you irritated how much of a workaholic this woman was sometimes.

“Hmmm, yes, yes, thank you honey—“ She finally murmured.

“Honey?” You asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Honey… tea— Oh, you made honey tea?” She asked, finally taking her eyes off her work to look at you. Her eyes were striking and you certainly would be flustered if you didn’t spluttered out a chuckle to which she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, look who is daydreaming into her work now!” You kept chuckling with a hand attempting to cease yourself. Miranda squinted her eyes at your audacity.

“It is not a simple day dream, it’s my work.” She retorted, her slender fingers precisely organized the papers into a growing pile. “I will eat after I’m done.”

“But!” You attempted to protest.

“I’m almost done.” She justified.

“You said it hours ago when I brought your lunch, to which you refused.” You pointed out, your tone growing more preoccupied, which she caught up to. “Please… You can’t keep working like this.”

Miranda stopped, her fingers resting against her temples as she shook her head with a sigh. That woman was incredibly stubborn, you knew that but so was you when it came to taking care of her well being. Your eyebrows furrowed as you gently took the pile of papers away, resting them into a nearby empty desk to which Miranda stared in disbelief. “I’m sorry, but respectfully — you need rest!” Seething the trail in front of her, your eyes pleaded for her to at least take some time to eat. She could see how worried you were and as much as she wished to keep on with her work, she gave in with a nod.

You almost chirped with happiness upon finally seeing her giving a go at not working herself to near starvation again, gosh this woman was a challenge to aid sometimes but you cared enough to try and you knew that she noticed the effort you put into it.

“Well, honey?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Excuse me?” She almost choked on her words, uncharacteristically enough to your amusement.

“Honey tea.” You smugly announced, pouring her some of the delicious golden liquid as she shook her head in disbelief — taking a satisfying bite off the soft cake you baked.

“I don’t know why I still keep you around, you will drive me crazy eventually.” She replied with a grumpy tone, to which waved off a hearted laugh. It was hard for her to hide a smile while also maintaining a decent eating etiquette but at the end of the day she was content to have someone cheer her up like you did.

//////

AN: This was so funny to make! I feel like Miranda is a great softie when you push her buttons in the right way. Anyhow, hope ya enjoy it!

[bucksanklescrews]

big, big news- e.b. x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, pregnant reader

The day outside was picture-perfect, one of those quintessential Los Angeles afternoons that seemed almost too beautiful to be real. The sky stretched endlessly above, a brilliant, cloudless blue that contrasted sharply with the lush greenery of the trees lining the streets. The sun shone brightly, its golden rays warming everything in their path, while a gentle breeze whispered through the air, offering a brief respite from the heat. It felt like summer's embrace, warm and comforting, but it did little to soothe the anxiety churning within you.

You huffed, wiping your brow with the back of your hand as you fanned your face, trying in vain to cool down your sweaty skin. But it wasn’t just the heat that had you flustered—it was the overwhelming mix of emotions surging through you. Your breath came in uneven gasps, and you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. You bit your lip, fighting back the sob that was lodged in your throat. It seemed so stupid to be crying now, after all the pleading and hoping you had done, asking the gods and any entity who might listen to grant you this. And yet, now that the moment was here, terror had taken root, winding its way around your heart and squeezing tight.

The timer rang, its shrill sound cutting through the air like a knife, pulling you back to the present. Your body moved on autopilot, shuffling toward the bathroom with heavy, hesitant steps. The room felt smaller than it had before, the air thick with anticipation. Your hand shook as you reached for the little square of toilet paper on the counter, where the pregnancy test lay waiting.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at it directly. The little hourglass that had spun endlessly on the screen was gone, replaced by a single, solid word that seemed to stare back at you, daring you to read it. But you were too scared to face it, too terrified of what that one word might mean—for your future, for your hopes, for everything you had wished for and feared all at once.

Pregnant

A sob escaped your lips. It was so simple, just one word, but it carried the weight of a thousand emotions—joy, fear, disbelief, hope, and everything in between. You had imagined this moment countless times, playing out every possible reaction, but nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of the emotions that now flooded your body.

It was raw and unfiltered, a release of all the tension, the anticipation, the overwhelming sense of reality crashing down on you. Tears followed, spilling over your cheeks as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. Your legs felt weak, and you leaned heavily against the cool surface, trying to steady yourself as the enormity of the moment settled in.

This was real. The word on the screen wasn’t a dream, or a fantasy, or a cruel trick of the mind. It was real, and it meant that everything was about to change. You were going to be a mother. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and as the sobs continued to wrack your body, you felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within you—relief, joy, fear, love.

You let yourself cry, allowing the tears to flow freely, knowing that this was the beginning of something completely new, something you had hoped for yet had never fully imagined. It was a moment of profound vulnerability, and as you cried, you felt the first stirrings of acceptance, of embracing the unknown, and of stepping into this new chapter of your life with all the courage you could muster.

Eventually, the sobs subsided, leaving you standing in the quiet of the bathroom, the pregnancy test still in your trembling hand. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, taking a deep, shaky breath as you stared at the word again. Pregnant. It was real, and so were you.

Evan came home that evening, the door creaking softly as he stepped inside. You were curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, staring out the window at the fading light of the day. He paused in the doorway, his eyes immediately searching your face for any sign of how you were feeling.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.

You looked up at him and smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that you hoped would ease his worry. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice steady, though your emotions were still swirling beneath the surface.

Evan seemed unconvinced, his brows knitting together as he took a cautious step toward you. He hesitated for a moment, then settled into the other couch, keeping a respectful distance as if he was unsure whether you needed space or comfort. The sadness in his eyes was evident, and it tugged at your heart, making you want to reach out to him and share everything that had happened earlier.

But instead, you stayed silent, watching him as he slowly drifted off to sleep, his head resting against the back of the couch. His breathing became slow and even, and you found yourself studying him, taking in every detail. His face, relaxed in sleep, looked so peaceful, almost boyish. You wondered if your baby would have that same sense of wonder in their eyes, the same curiosity that seemed to light up Evan’s face whenever he encountered something new. Would they inherit his birthmark, the small, distinct mark on his brow that you loved.

Your heart swelled with love and a deep, protective instinct. You could already feel the connection between the three of you growing, even if Evan didn’t know it yet. The thought of sharing this news with him, of seeing his reaction, both thrilled and terrified you. But for now, you wanted to savor this quiet moment, to hold onto the anticipation a little longer.

As the afternoon slipped into evening, you rose from the couch, careful not to disturb Evan. Moving through the kitchen, you began to gather ingredients for dinner, your mind still buzzing with the earlier revelation. Cooking had always been a soothing activity for you, a way to ground yourself when your thoughts were too chaotic. The familiar rhythm of chopping vegetables, seasoning, and stirring helped to calm your nerves.

The scent of your cooking eventually filled the air, and you heard the soft rustle of movement from the living room. Evan was awake. You smiled to yourself as you heard his footsteps approaching, knowing that he was drawn to the kitchen by the enticing aroma.

Just as you were finishing plating up his dinner, you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his warmth enveloping you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickling your skin. "Smells amazing," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You leaned into him, feeling a surge of affection. "I hope you’re hungry," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

Evan took both plates from you, carrying them to the dining room table with a practiced ease. He pulled out your chair, just as he always did, a small gesture that had become a cherished part of your routine whenever you cooked together. As you sat down, he quickly retrieved the silverware and returned with drinks for both of you, setting everything down with care.

He popped the cork to a new bottle of wine. Evan poured the wine into your glass, the rich red liquid swirling as it filled the bowl. With a playful smirk, he added a little extra splash, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just a bit more, for good measure," he teased, clearly in high spirits.

You couldn't help but smile up at him, warmth spreading through you. But as much as you appreciated the gesture, you knew it was time to tell him. The secret you’d been holding onto all evening felt too big to keep inside any longer.

You reached out and gently touched his hand, your voice soft but steady. "I can't drink it, Buck."

He paused, looking at the bottle in his hand, then back at you. "Oh, don’t worry, it’s not the extra fancy stuff or anything," he assured you.

You smiled wider, your heart swelling with affection for him. You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow, hoping he would catch on, but the realization still didn’t hit him. Instead, he slid the glass of wine over to his side of the table, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to understand.

"Do you want water or a soda instead?" he asked, completely missing the hint.

You laughed softly, shaking your head at his obliviousness. "Water is fine," you replied, amused by how adorably clueless he could be at times.

Evan nodded and quickly went to grab a glass of water and a can of soda from the fridge, setting them in front of you with a smile. He was so earnest, so sweet, and so completely unaware of the bombshell you were about to drop. Your heart raced as you prepared to tell him, excitement and nerves mingling together.

He began recounting the details of his last shift, his voice animated as he spoke about the callouts, the adrenaline rush of the job, and the small victories they’d celebrated together. You tried to listen, you really did, but as he spoke, you found yourself utterly enchanted by the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips curled into that charming smile.

Every laugh line and freckle seemed to tell a story, and as you watched him, your mind drifted to the little life you were carrying—his child. The realization sent warmth flooding through you, and you couldn’t help but smile wide, completely lost in thought.

Buck noticed your distraction and chuckled, breaking through your daydream. "Why are you smiling so wide? You’re not high, are you?" he teased, his brows raised in mock concern.

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "Why would a woman not be able to drink wine?" you replied, trying to keep the atmosphere light even as your heart raced at the thought of finally revealing your news.

Evan’s eyes widened slightly, and you could almost see the gears in his mind turning as he started to connect the dots. "Wait, are you…?" he began, but then stopped himself, uncertainty flickering across his face. “Do you need help or something?”

You quickly shook your head, a reassuring smile on your lips. "No, I’m okay, really."

But then his expression shifted, a sudden brightness sparking in his eyes. "Are you pregnant?" he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could catch himself.

With a nod, you whispered, "Yes, I am."

Evan’s face lit up, a mix of disbelief and joy spreading across his features. "Really?" he breathed, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

You smiled wider, feeling the weight of your news lift as you shared it with him. "I’m serious."

He pushed back his chair slightly, his excitement palpable. "This is incredible!" he exclaimed, his arms wrapping around you in an embrace that felt electric. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body, the sheer happiness radiating from him.

As he pulled back to look at you, his eyes shone with a mixture of awe and love. "We’re having a baby," he said, almost in disbelief. You nodded, feeling tears of joy prick at the corners of your eyes.

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

[marvelmaniac715]

My dissection of the Lords in Black from the excerpt of Miss Holloween:

Their Halloween costume forms are weirdly adorable and it’s interesting that they’re familiar with trick or treating.

Confirmation that Pokey loves music! Nibbly is such a mood with the soft-serve machine and Wiggly is demonstrating such older brother behaviour by just sitting and watching his brothers play.

This bit makes me laugh so much AND plays into my characterisation of Nibbly 😭.

Big brother Wiggly and more music lover Pokey. Though I do wonder… what are the other Lords’ karaoke song choices?

We all know who’s in charge here 😂.

Not Tinky being their accountant 😭. What could the square root of pumpkin pie be, I wonder? Does it have anything to do with when Miss Holloway made the deal or does our goat boy just have a craving?

For five evil Lords who often appear as child-friendly plushies, these guys sure do hate kids 😭. I’m convinced this hatred is motivated by Hannah Foster, their least favourite child in existence.

Imagine being generous, that’s the worst thing ever, right? Also I’m starting to rethink my age order for the brothers because based on the way Blinky’s acting in this script it just SCREAMS youngest child, thoughts?

[study-diaries]

Math Tips

(Pictures are not mine)

Well, let me tell you, we all have this love-hate relationship with this subject, right? The worst part is that when you don't know what the heck is going on, so, as a girl who studied maths (2 Volumes/textbooks) on her own during the year she was homeschooled, here are some tips and tricks that I did to get an A+ in my math finals!

Get your syllabus together

In the beginning I had no damn idea what was going on and it was just confusing. I had to do the first thing I did was taken my index/table of contents and mark the chapters which i knew very well and the ones I had no clue about. And then i arranged them with the marking scheme, like which one carries the most marks etc etc and study accordingly.

Complete lessons/chapters that you already know

When you finish off the things you already know then that's gonna give you the confidence you need even if you know only 1-2 chapters, learn it throughout and make sure that you'll get the answer no matter how twisted the sum is. If you're doubtful about the whole textbook like any normal person.... Start with the easy ones. (I know there are literally really no "easy" chapters, spare me)

Harder chapters need hard work

Most chapters like Trigonometry proofs, Geometry proofs, Algebra, Graphs, Mensuration and Calculus etc need more than minimum effort but here's a trick, what is the common thing in this? Yes, they're all formulae and theorem based which goes to my next point. These chapters are completely based on how much you've understood your basics.

Formulae and theorem cheatsheets

Make a list of all formulae and the theorem used in the book, write them chapter wise and no printouts or digital notes. Take a paper and write it down, no excuses. It helps you while you're practicing, revising and in the last minute review, it helped me damn much. Remember, maths is a sport. The basic formulae must come to you like reflexes.

YouTube is your best friend.

For every single chapter, go and watch the basics and how a sum is done step by step. A recommendation for this is Organic Chemistry Tutor who literally is one of the reasons i passed. He has videos from basic geometry, trigonometry, statistics to calculus. Search for your own YouTubers and be clear with concepts.

Math is fully memorization

Memorize formulae and theorems with the back of your hand, you should be able to recall them within seconds. Be thorough.

Memorize basic math values (if calculator isn't allowed)

Do this if you have a majority of chapters like Statistics, Mensuration, Profit/loss calculation etc, where large numbers are concerned. Memorize the first 10 square, cube, decimal and multiplication values. It may be dry but there are literally songs available for these things, I'm serious, i learnt the first 10 cube roots by listening to Senorita xD Search for rhymes and they'll definitely be many!!

Work it out!!!!!!

Can't stress this enough, atleast 30-40 mins is the minimum for maths. I'm serious, work out each sum, don't ever think it's a waste, you'll see the results. Practice makes perfect. Work out every single sum, from examples to exercise ones cause let's be honest, our examiners love to take problems from every nook and cranny of the book.

Whiteboard method

So, I made this up and it actually works, if you have a whiteboard or anything else, once you completed a chapter, take a random page and whatever sums you have on those two pages, you need to complete within a given time limit. It helps you to identify your weak points and where the hell you're losing both time and effort and not to mention that it gives you confidence boost up.

Hope this helps :))

[edusquaremaths]

Squaring a number ending in 5 | #squaretrick #vedicmaths #mathtricks #shortvideo #vedicmaths

Square Tricks | Maths Tricks | Vedic Maths| Square tricks for 15, 25, 35, 45…Cool tricks by @EduSqaureMathsSquare Tricks | Multiplication Tricks | Square Tricks | Maths Tricks | Vedic Mathsshorts #short #shortvideo #mathsedusquaremaths #squareofanumber

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐄 – GAVI

summary. fighting for the top spot of your class is hard when the boy next door is set on beating you at everything.

warnings. academic rival!gavi,f!oral, academic exhaustion, & various mentions of golf.

a/n. finally getting to my follower bash lol golf vocabulary

you sighed in frustration as you failed to solve the equation, again. the work on your notebook staring back at you as if to make fun of you. you stand up from your desk immediately wincing at the pain of having your foot asleep for hours. you’d think you’d be used to it by now due to how many hours you spent seated daily.

a faint knock is heard from outside your door. you limp as you walk towards the door to open it. your dad awaits you on the other side — the other side of the door separating you from society — with an awkward smile. he hated seeing you like this, overworked that is, he always offered to hire a tutor but you always refused. you were privileged, always having the money to advance your studies but you insisted on doing everything yourself after all you wouldn’t have tutors with you at your future job.

“you know i could always ask mr. páez?” he suggests hoping to finally have you rest.

your eyes go wide at his suggestion. your father had surely gone insane. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting having gavi help you. the one thing standing between you and the first rank of your class was the sevillian. the two of you being tied for the last two years, you couldn’t let him know you were struggling with such a simple problem.

“and lose my dignity? no. i probably did something wrong when solving i’ll figure it out.” you paced around the room.

“alright. don’t stress yourself out. you can always ask your professor for help.” he sighs as he heads to his room.

except you couldn’t. you had something to prove and you would do it yourself even if it cost you your friends and social life. most especially you couldn’t lose your number one spot to gavi of all people. growing up with him had been a nightmare to your dad and his parents. the two of you constantly tried to one up each other in every subject, including sports. his parents spending endless amounts of money making sure he’d get a spot on the spanish team like he wished all his life and your father despite being a single one always made sure you were up to lessons in golf.

gavi would score a hat trick one day and the next you’d score an eagle. the day he made the real betis academy he didn’t even celebrate knowing you’d somehow find a way to surpass his achievement. and you did scoring private lessons with annika sörenstam. it also didn’t help that your parents were close friends always spending time with each other — analyzing each others weaknesses and strengths — it was an exhausting predicament. you didn’t even understand why he wanted the number one spot he already had his dream as professional football player secured.

you spent the next two hours revising your notes trying to remember how to solve a simple equation. reviewing your own work you realized you had forgotten to square root a number and instead of feeling accomplished when you turned in your assignment all you felt was embarrassment. specifically when you noticed gavi had turned in the assignment hours earlier. you could’ve cried in that moment but instead you changed into your workout clothes and grabbed yours clubs immediately heading towards the neighborhood’s driving range.

it was usually closed during this time of day but you were one of the few allowed to use it whenever you wanted. the owner of the country club along with the rest of the neighborhood expected you to make your LPGA tour debut sometime this year and thus let you use the range at any time of the day. the driving range was the only time you found peace these days. your father had expected you to outgrow the sport that eventually the pressure would get to you but it was the opposite. the sport brought you peace.

the sound of your iron hitting the ball over and over again was music to your ears. you stared as the pathway of each ball was straighter than the previous one. the faint light that illuminated the end of the driving range allowing you to see how far the balls landed. you were about to switch to your driver when the sound of leaves rustling interrupts your nightly routine. you ignore it at first thinking it’s probably just squirrels but then the faint noise turns into footsteps.

you clutch your driver scared as to what is hiding amongst the darkness. a figure emerges from the other end of the driving range and you’re about to yell for help when you recognize the gray nike tech they’re wearing. of course he was awake as well and that’s when you remember the football field is on the other side of the range. you thought it was funny how the two of you would always find time for your sports.

“do you ever sleep?” he’s the first one to break the awkward silence between the two of you.

“if i did you’d be ranked first.” you reply curtly before swinging your driver aiming your ball even further than before.

“you know some of your balls end up on my field.” he changes the subject.

“how do you know they’re mine?” you place your driver into your bag and take off your glove. you could relax for a few minutes. at least while the brunette bothered you.

“you’re the only one capable of swinging them that far.” he shrugs.

it was true. your competitiveness had allowed you to find motivation every time you swung any of your clubs. it also didn’t help that your dad would take you to the PGA Tour Championship every year and you always wanted to swing the ball like tiger woods or rory mcilroy. you were truly a nightmare for your trainers and your father never wanting to leave the course before seven pm.

“why are you here gavi?” you turn around to face him. he looked like you, tired and stressed. his eye bags almost as dark as yours. his hair messy but it fit him in a way. you realized he was probably running drills since he had an away game with the academy this weekend.

“how do you do it?” he steps closer analyzing you. he takes his hoodie off in the practice allowing for the dimly lit street light to shine on his hair. “how do you deal with all the pressure?”

there had only been one previous conversation between the two of you where you forgot about your stupid rivalry and helped each other out. it had unfortunately led to a very awkward kiss between the two of you. a kiss that hadn’t been brought up sense and placed into the back of your mind.

“i don’t. it’s literally two in the morning and i’m practicing my swing.” you let out a deep breath. “you?”

“used to have been able to calm myself down with gummies but they don’t work for me anymore.” he places his hands into his pockets suddenly embarrassed at his oversharing. “been trying to find another way to ground myself but even football can’t do that for me right now.”

there’s a loud silence between the two of you. his suddenly burst of oversharing breaking boundaries that had been pre-established between you and him. you barely notice the way he gets closer to you almost as if you let him get near you.

“gavi no offense but why are you telling me all this?” you say with valid points as the brunette had never once tried to make an effort to talk to you before.

there’s a long pause between your question and his answer. he debates on whether he should he completely honest with you or to compress his feelings for even no longer.

“because i hate the way everyone just likes you and the way you sailed through school and can work for hours on end without getting tired and the fact that you just did work for two days straight and still look perfect, because you always do-“ his eyes go wide at how much he’s confessed already. “it’s not fair that you can just be relaxed after all th-”

“sailed? sailed?!” you simply stared at him with disbelief. “gavi i worked my ass off to get to where i am today. my dad didn’t pay for me to have advantages, i didn’t get everything handed to me on a silver platter, i did it on my own. do you realize how many hours i spend daily on my work? on making sure you don’t take away my spot?” your voice roars through the empty driving range.

“i didn’t-”

“no. let me finish gavi.” you continue your rant. “also it’s not fair that i can be relaxed? you think this is relaxing? swinging golf balls at two in the morning? you’re an unbelievable conceited prick. you don’t even need the number one spot anyways you have a guaranteed spot for club and country. you’re set for life?!” you stare at him with utter disgust.

“you’re set for life too? your dad literally owns the biggest food provider in sevilla you’re guaranteed a job at his company.” he fights back. “you’re nothing but a brat.”

he drives you against the hard cold wall of the concessions stand with each harsh word he says. his insults grow harsher but you hardly pay attention the veins in his neck gaining your attention with every hateful word he says. maybe it’s the lack of sleep or vitamins in your body but you suddenly forget he’s the guy separating you from achieving your lifelong dream of disassociating yourself from your dad’s company.

he notices your thoughtful glare as he continues on and on with his rant without any interruption from you. your eyes digging into his in a way they never have. his hand creeping too close to your face and not to harm you but rather to just feel your warm cheeks against his palm. the two of you get lost in each other’s stress and pain. his lips finding their way to yours in a dominant kiss.

it’s embarrassing for the two of you just how quickly you forget about your hatred for each other. maybe you’d go back to despising each other for pursuing each others dreams after the kiss but right now you could only find a stress reliever in each other. his lips are soft but harsh on yours. you’re not looking for a sweet moment but rather a quick and dominant one to forget about your current problems. many groans leave your lips as he makes his way from your lips to your neck.

he’s careful not to leave any marks but he attacks your neck in a pleasuring way. his hands digging into your hips as you adjust your neck to give him more access. he carefully unzips your jacket careful to not damage it. he’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in months but as soon as he sees your laced bra something shifts in his mind. his kisses trail down from your neck to the valley of your breasts. this time he sucks above your right breast intentionally leaving a mark.

he looks up to your pleading eyes. he knows your look. so he gets to the point, kneeling down, and with your leg on his shoulder. he drags his hand up teasingly until his fingers are practically teasing your core. your panties ruined from your wetness he quickly pulls them down immediately stuffing them into his pocket.

“can i?” he asks one more time to confirm.

“mhm.” is all you can afford to moan.

“i need words princess.”

“fuck. yes gavi.” you groan.

he starts slowly kissing your thighs up to your aching core. his fingers digging into your thighs to spread them apart more to give him full access. you audibly moan as his tongue makes contact with your folds. your hands digging into his hair pulling on it the more he licks. his tongue moving from your folds to your hole causing you to lose balance at the pleasure. but luckily he’s there to keep your balance. you can’t help yourself from grinding into his face his nose beginning to come in contact with your core.

he continues licking you for a little before bringing his finger to your core teasing you with it. he drags it up and down your thigh and above your core just to tease you.

“do you want my fingers?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“yes. fuck.” you lean your head backwards.

he slides his finger through your folds lubricating it with your wetness before bringing it to your hole slowly inserting it. he groans at sight of you clenching around his finger. he pumps his finger in and out before adding his tongue again. the two of them providing a mind blowing experience for you. he manages to hit the spot with his finger curling his finger to reach an unexplainable amount of pleasure.

“c’mon baby. let all that stress out.” he moans as he puts in a second finger. it’s almost embarrassing the way you melt into his touch.

you don’t realize that gavi finds this intimate moment just as pleasurable as you do. the way your leg wraps around his shoulder, the way your fingers grip his hair, and your high pitched moans all sent shockwaves down his body. he wasn’t going to admit but all his previous sexual experiences consisted of jerking himself off to some random chick on the internet. this didn’t even compare to the real thing. having you tremble under his touch was intoxicating.

he starts feeling you shake under him realizing you’re close to achieving your high. all you need is one final push. he adds a third finger and sucks at your folds like a mad man. the knot that had formed in your stomach breaking loose as you cum all over his face. your hand holding his tightly as you reach your orgasm. he licks you slowly as you come down from your high. eventually finding the willpower to step away from you.

you bring him towards you kissing him. his lips tender and full of your juices you can practically taste yourself. his hand wrapping around the back of your head to bring you closer to him to deepen the kiss. the two of you briefly forgetting that tomorrow you’ll be back at each others throat. his brown eyes bore into yours and somehow you think you’ve found a comfort zone where you can relieve your stress.

[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

Jegulus with baby Harry

James: Harry, sweetie, what’s the square root of 64?

Baby Harry: 8!

Regulus: Nice trick. Hey, Harry what’s the square root of this potato?

Baby Harry: 8!!

Regulus: Congratulations you have a parrot

[hachama]

Step kid worries that her confidence/ ability in math means that her career options are limited. I figure she's probably not unique in that view.

As your official internet nonbinary parent friend and Actual Professional Engineer, please believe me when I say this: you don't have to be good at remembering formulas. You don't have to be good at working polynomial factorial square roots or love writing proofs.

If I need to use advanced math, I use a computer.

My math education gets used for two things: Google search terms so I can find the formula that I vaguely remember existing, and having just enough of a clue what the answer should be that I can tell if I maybe possibly set up the equation wrong. (Volume isn't negative. If you ever try to find the volume of a real, solid object and come up with a negative number? You did something wrong.)

My father was an engineer, before everyone carried a calculator with access to the sum total of human knowledge around in their pocket. He actually really liked math and was very good at it.

He called calculating Square roots in his head a "party trick." He never used that level of math professionally.

From this, you could deduce a couple things:

1) my father was a real party animal.

2) for most of us mere mortals, that level of math capabilities is unnecessary

Now, before any angry mathematicians and/or math educators turns up, there's an important addendum.

Doing math is about more than just learning to do math, it's like bicep curls for your brain.

Regardless, please don't let the math scare you away from something you like doing

[incorrect-malfoys]

Lucius: Draco, what’s the square root of 64?

Baby Draco: 8!

Bellatrix: Nice trick. Hey Draco, what’s the square root of this potato?

Baby Draco: 8!

Bellatrix: Congratulations, you have a parrot