#Square Root solution

[squarerootsolutions]

Tips for Choosing the Right Web Development Company

To choose the best web development company, consider your needs, credibility, past client references, and the ability to offer tailored services. Clearly state your requirements, assess the company's credibility, and engage professionals in tailored web development. Consider areas like app development, CRM integration, and e-commerce website development. Read here for more tips on choosing the right web development company.

[sloppypears-ash-sg]

The Last of the PaS characters!

PaS! Pi, PaS! Euler's Number, PaS! Clover, Square Root, PaS! Asterisk, and Caret belong to Verastophilis and Funkchen-Sparky.

[squarerootsolutionsuk]

Explore how custom mobile apps are revolutionizing the UK eCommerce landscape. This article delves into the benefits of personalized user experiences, streamlined checkouts, and data-driven marketing strategies that custom apps offer to businesses aiming to stay competitive in a mobile-first market.

Key Highlights:

Enhanced User Experience & Personalization: Tailor content and recommendations to individual user preferences.

Streamlined Checkout Process: Simplify transactions with stored payment details and one-click purchases.

Data-Driven Insights: Utilize user behavior analytics to refine marketing strategies.

Competitive Differentiation: Stand out in a crowded market with unique app features.

Future Trends: Embrace mobile-first strategies, technological advancements, and omnichannel integration.

[raspberryjamnnn]

(dw about specific number systems too hard)

F: x -> x²

G: x -> √(x)

G ≠ F¯¹ (F¯¹ DNE fully)

G{ x : x ≥ 0 } = F{ x : x ≥ 0 }¯¹

G{ -x : x ≤ 0 } = -F{ x : x ≤ 0 }¯¹

F(G(x)) = x

G(F(x)) = |x|

[sciencesolutions]

[diwatopia]

★ amethyst ; poly!marauders.

info: fluff, poly!marauders x gn!reader, under 1k.

there's a slight burn to your scalp as you apply more bleach to the small chunks of your hair, all sectioned into four neat squares to make the process easier.

your gloved hands squeak as you continuously clamp and unclamp your fingers over your locks, rubbing in the solution to get your hair to the light blonde you desire but it becomes increasingly difficult as you reach the back of your head.

"whatcha' doing, dolly?" sirius chirps, head popping past the door frame to get a good look at your odd stature: one foot on the lid of the toilet, the other planted firmly on the tiled floor as you attempt to get the last strand towards the base of your skull.

"can you see if i got the roots towards the back?" voice huffing in frustration as you scratch your burning scalp.

sirius coos teasingly, kissing at your clean temple when you pout. "you missed a couple spots. got any extra gloves?" his voice softer than before with a sickly sweet expression that makes your brain all gooey and melty.

you nod dumbly, handing him a pair of black latex gloves and practically purr as he gently scratches at your scalp, ceasing all itching and burning with his magic touch.

"are the boys back too?" you ask, already hearing the two pairs of socked footsteps thud against the hardwood floors. you've got your answer.

"hi, sweetness!" james pipes up, head peeking round the corner alongside remus'.

you smile, lazily reaching for them but not enough to disturb sirius who's hard at work. "what color are we going for today, dovey?" remus asks with curiosity, grin matching yours as he rushes to grasp at your hand.

"not sure... i have two different colors but i need your help deciding," your lips tucked into an adorable pucker as you mull over which color to go with.

two boxes lay on the countertop, pink and purple hair dye that are basically close in color but completely different vibes. you glance over to the boys, more so at sirius due to the fact that he's the best styled out of the bunch.

"i think i'm leaning more towards purple but i asked marls and she said pink so now my brain's all in a twist..." you pout slightly.

silence falls, the only thing being heard is your phone playing music. sirius is the first to speak, "i think you should stick to purple, doll."

then a flurry of agreements can be heard from both remus and james as if they were waiting for sirius' opinion before speaking upon their own.

"agreed, purple suits your skin tone!" james speaks as if he's just happy to be here, starry-eyed with a dopey grin to match.

remus nods along with james, "and it doesn't seem like it's a royal purple, it's more of an amethyst. i think you'll look extra pretty, dove."

you flush pink, "purple's the way to go then," soft giggle bubbling past your throat.

★ diwa's notes: i'm actually not sure how i feel abt this one but ty for 300 (?) notes on "lovely"!!!

© hobietopia 2024.

[karaaeilish]

౨ৎ the last leaf; b. eilish

౨ৎ angst & fluff ` ౨ৎ artist!billie x ill!reader ⋆˙⟡ when the last leaf falls from the old ivy — your life will end. you’ve clearly decided this, until a miracle happens before your eyes

in a little district west of washington square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called “places.” these “places” make strange angles and curves. one street crosses itself a time or two. an artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

so, to quaint old greenwich village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and dutch attics and low rents. then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from sixth avenue, and became a “colony.”

the small studio you shared with your friend ava was located on the third floor of a five-story brick building. the view from the window, alas, wasnt a masterpiece of nature, pleasing the eye every day when the first rays of the sun illuminate the streets soaked by the night's rain.

all you saw was a dull, dim courtyard and a blank brick wall twenty steps away. old, old ivy with a gnarled trunk rotten at the roots had twined halfway up the brick wall. the cold breath of autumn had torn the leaves from the vines, and the bare skeletons of the branches clung to the crumbling bricks.

your languid, almost forcibly lifeless gaze had been directed at the window for the last twenty minutes, while ava was quietly but persistently discussing something with the doctor who had come to you for the third time this week. perhaps she thought that you would want to somehow eavesdrop on their conversation, but you, in fact, frankly did not care. you've decided everything for yourself. and maybe your pessimistic view of this situation was stupid and desperate, but it's the only thing that gave you hope. hope to calm down and finally go to a better world. where there is no fear, bitterness and illness.

quiet muttering under her breath becomes clearer, louder, and ava's gaze becomes more worried when she comes into your bedroom, saying something to you, most likely asking about your well-being for the hundredth time that day, as if at one moment something will click in your head, and a thin thread of light will frame your upset mind.

“twelve,” you said, and a little later “eleven”; and then “ten,” and “nine”; and then “eight” and “seven,” almost together.

ava looked out the window, puzzled. what was there to count?

"sweetheart.." she asks softly, quietly, almost maternally. her light hand falls on your shoulder, but at first you don't react, looking at the exhausted old ivy through a veil of approaching tears.

"six" you whisper, barely pausing between the quiet words. "five", then "four", and then you finally look at her. "when the last leaf falls, i must go, too"

for a brief moment, a suffocating silence hangs in the room, while ava tries to process your words, which are nothing more than the feverish delirium of a sick person. even if it was so, you sincerely wanted to believe in it. the disease will soon win and you’ll finally be able to rest from all this.

"you mustn’t, stupid" she abruptly jumps away from you, walking from one corner of the room to the other, then again approaching your bed, on which you lie motionless, only watching her every movement with your eyes. "your chances of recovery will increase if you finally understand that you’ll survive"

her eyes are mixed with anger and irritation, but also with a huge concern that pours out in every gesture of her hands. and you can't be angry with her. she clearly wants to see you alive more than you do yourself. and sometimes it’s worth using radical solutions to achieve this.

"and you know what? i'm going for billie. maybe at least she can set your brains straight" your eyes widen, your body finally shows noticeable signs of life when billie's voice appears in your head. a grumpy girl, unbearable to the point of foaming at the mouth and eternally angry at the whole world. but something about her fascinates you. you fidget awkwardly, carefully sitting up and leaning your back against the soft pillows. "you can't call her. ava, she can't see me like this!"

you raise your voice, but regret it a few seconds later when you start coughing and ava holds your shoulders, helping you stay in a sitting position. you know how hard and painful it is for her to see you like this.

“if she’s the only chance you have to believe in your recovery, i swear i’ll send her to hell after you.” ava pokes your shoulder lightly, not causing any pain but clearly driving home her point.

maybe you weren’t able to argue with her, maybe you just wanted to see that grumpy face you’re in love with too much.

billie appears in your room like a storm, barging in with a worried and at the same time terribly displeased face. her hands and clothes are heavily stained with oil paint, her hair is tied up in a high bun, but she managed to get even that dirty with light paint, causing a few stray strands of her bangs to stand on end. she still smells the same — sweet peach, oil, some kind of mix of different types of professional paint, and a hint of the bitter black coffee she drank in the morning. honestly, it's only now that you've realized that you have no idea what time it is.

"you're delirious," her voice shakes. you always know what that means. and it always makes you sad.

"and you’re trying to write your 'masterpiece' again?" her face goes from angry to more upset, and you realize you've hit the nail on the head.

for months now billie's been saying she's about to paint a masterpiece that will change the world, but every time she has nothing to show for it other than a torn canvas in the trash and some wasted materials. "i'll paint that picture, you'll see"

her face softens slightly when she sees the small smile on your face, unaware that it's her own.

"i'd like to see it" you whisper as she finally moves to sit carefully on the edge of your bed, trying not to get the un-dried paint on her pants all over the place.

the first minute passes in quiet, as you both watch the three swaying leaves on the green ivy. your thoughts are unconsciously intertwined, hers, about your kisses on her plump lips, yours, about her hands caressing your face in the morning. and billie made you believe without a word that you could beat the disease.

in the second minute her hand goes down to yours, fastening your fingers in a strong, but such a gentle lock, giving bright hope in the impenetrable darkness. billie could rarely be seen like this — calm and affectionate, not shouting at anyone, not trying to annoy everyone, just because she had a bad character. no, with you she was different. completely different. a girl in love.

"the last leaf won’t fall. never" she says quietly, but confidently, that her whisper cuts the cool air of your room. pure thoughtfulness is written on her face, as if she is drawing her self-portrait in her head, knowing exactly how much her eyebrows are frowning, or her lips are pursed. although, it was more like the brush was in your hand. you painted every bit of joy on her face, and she let you take over her mind, capturing portraits of you.

"you're talking nonsense. strong winds and rain are forecast for the night." you protest, but your words don't seem to impress billie at all, because not a single muscle twitches on her face. as if she was absolutely certain of what she was saying. the last leaf won’t fall.

and she was… right?

the first thought that runs through your head the next morning is that you are alive. but what about the ivy? feeling a sudden surge of strength, you kneel on the bed, resting your palms on the wide windowsill, decorated with some silly pictures that billie drew during one of her visits to your apartment.

your eyebrows rise in surprise as you look at the brick wall and notice that the very last leaf, which was not promised life, remains on. still dark green at the stem, but touched along the jagged edges with the yellow of decay and disintegration, it hung bravely on the branch twenty feet above the ground. you cannot believe your eyes, but it’s there, it’s there! that last leaf was the one that meant your life.

but how? everything around you had suffered from the relentless wind, the endless rain, but not the ivy. a smile comes to your face, and hope comes into your heart.

the first day passed, and even in the twilight she could see the single ivy leaf hanging on its stem against the brick wall. and then, as darkness fell, the north wind rose again, and the rain pounded the windows incessantly, rolling down from the low-hanging dutch roof.

and still the ivy leaf remained.

after the first day passed the next few, which have more effect on your life than the last few months and heaps of medicines. your body blossoms like a lily of the valley, and a sincere smile plays on your face every day. ava's eyes sometimes tear up, seeing a spark of hope in every look you give her.

the doctor came again, examining you and proudly telling you that you can get better. and you could ask for nothing more. only to see billie's face again, to thank her. to finally dare and feel the sweet taste of her lips with a hint of cigarette smoke.

but that same day, in the evening, ava came to the bed where you lay, happily finishing knitting a bright blue, completely useless scarf, and hugged her with one arm - along with the pillow.

"i need to tell you something, dear," she began, hesitating slightly before continuing. "billie died today in the hospital from pneumonia. she was only sick for two days"

your body shrinks, your chest becomes heavy, and your breathing is difficult.

"on the morning of the first day the porter found the poor girl on the floor of her room. she was unconscious. her shoes and all her clothes were soaked through and cold as ice" pause. long, silent. "nobody could figure out where she had gone out on such a terrible night, but then they found a lantern that was still burning, a ladder that had been moved from its place, some abandoned brushes and a palette with yellow and green paints"

a clear picture is beginning to form in your head, but you are still in a state of denial and numbness. ava gently touches your chin, forcing you to look out the window.

"look at the last leaf of the ivy. haven't you ever wondered how it doesn't tremble or move in the wind? yes, my dear, thats billie's masterpiece — she painted it the night the last leaf fell"

based on "the last leaf" o. henry

౨ৎ tags; @billiesbabygirll, @amara-eilish, @st0nerlesb0, @bxllxebxtch mystiquemm, @bilswifee, @dragoneyelashart, @bilssturns, @chrissv4mp, @allyeilishh, @bitchesbrokenpromises

[luna-rainbow]

On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

[mcflymemes]

PORTAL 2 PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 2011 video game, adjust as necessary

when life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade! make life take the lemons back! get mad! i don't want your damn lemons!

best case scenario, you might get some superpowers. worst case, some tumors.

science isn't about why. it's about why not.

the next test is very dangerous.

before the wright brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly everywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.

to help you remain tranquil in the face of almost certain death, smooth jazz will be deployed in three... two... one.

please disregard any undeserved compliments.

all right, i've been thinking.

what am i supposed to do with these?

do you know who i am?

oh, i like this guy.

he says what we're all thinking.

you can head on back to your desk.

well, this is the part where he kills us.

hello. this is the part where i kill you.

i know you.

no! i'm not listening! i'm not listening!

you're lying!

you're not just a regular moron. you were designed to be a moron.

i am not! a moron!

now who's a moron?

could a moron do that?

i can't see it though. maybe it fell off.

do you want to go and have a quick look?

are you alive? that's important. should have asked that first.

i'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive.

i'm just going to wait for you up ahead.

i'll wait one hour.

brilliant! go team!

i think we can put our differences behind us.

hi. so. how are you holding up?

good, that's still working.

here are the test results.

you are a horrible person.

i'm serious. that's what it says.

we weren't even testing for that.

don't be alarmed, all right?

good work getting this far.

i wish i could take it all back. i honestly do.

i'm in space.

if i were ever to see her again, do you know what i'd say? i'd say "i'm sorry." sincerely.

i am sorry. i was bossy and monstrous... and i'm genuinely sorry.

you made it through! well done!

okay, follow me. we've still got work to do.

what's happening?

okay... don't move.

so i've got an idea, but it is bloody dangerous. here we go.

they told me that if i ever turned this flashlight on, i would die.

they told me that about everything.

i don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they didn't want me to use it.

look at you, soaring through the air like an eagle.

i'm different!

prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man. he was cast to the bowels of the earth and pecked by birds.

it won't be enough. the answer lies beneath us.

oh, it's dark down here, isn't it?

i'm proud of you.

now we are a family again.

that last test was seriously disappointing.

just work with me.

some of my best friends are actually orphans.

you look ugly in that jumpsuit.

that's not my opinion.

i'll be honest. we're throwing science at the wall here to see what sticks.

no idea what it'll do.

i knew someone was alive in here!

you'll know when the test starts.

oh thank god you're all right.

i thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend.

the best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one.

i'll be honest. killing you? is hard.

i had a pretty good life. and then you showed up.

you know what? you win. just go.

it's been fun. don't come back.

this sentence is false.

to be honest, i might have heard that one before.

you know, i'm not stupid.

i realize you don't want to put me back in charge.

i'm being serious. i think there's something really wrong with me.

we should get our stories straight.

no, we're not stopping!

don't make eye contact, whatever you do.

i feel awful about that surprise.

oh, that's sad. but impressive.

we're running out of time.

you've probably figured it out by now, but i don't need you anymore.

i'm afraid you're about to become the immediate past president of the being alive club.

the square root of rope is string.

okay, what you're doing there is jumping.

you know what? that's close enough.

you saved my bacon.

is this a jailbreak?

the next test is very dangerous.

it's been a long time. how have you been?

i've been really busy being dead. you know, after you murdered me.

you out having yourself a little adventure?

no, don't get up. i'll be right back.

you're unqualified!

what if this hurts? what if it really hurts? oh, i didn't think about that.

get your hands off me!

i can't see a thing! what just happened?

i don't have any bullets.

did you feel that?

you were busy back there.

that's funny. i don't feel corrupt.

i've got an idea! do what it says!

look how small you are down there!

do you have any idea how good this feels?

sorry, fellas. she's married. to science.

let me answer those questions with a question. who wants to make sixty dollars?

yes, all right, okay, this is getting tiresome.

well done. good. aren't you little miss clever. little miss smashy smash.

does it actually make you feel good when you do that?

it's not impressive.

what is this, like a hobby for you now?

i'm beginning to actually take it personally.

it's like an insult to me.

oh, there goes another one.

it's vandalism! it's pure vandalism!

it's just us talking like regular people.

are you going to open this door?

where'd you go? come back!

[squarerootsolutions]

How to Choose the Best Between Native and Cross-Platform App Development for Your Mobile App?

The development of an app can be a complex process, involving both cross platform and native approaches. Native app development is tailored to specific platforms like Android or iOS, offering optimal performance, better user experience, and more. Cross-platform app development, involves creating apps for both platforms using frameworks like ReactNative, Flutter, and Xamarin. For more info about cross-platform vs. native app development, read here.

[squarerootsolutionsuk]

Struggling to keep your UK local business relevant online? Discover key web development strategies to enhance visibility, attract more customers, and stay competitive in the digital age.

Why strong web presence is vital for UK-based local businesses

Top web design and UX trends for 2025 and beyond

Essential SEO tips to rank higher in local search results

How mobile-first design boosts engagement

Leveraging fast, secure, and scalable websites to grow

Case examples and expert insights

[corroded-hellfire]

Scout's Honor - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my dearest @munson-blurbs

An As You Wish story

Summary: The annual Father-Daughter Girl Scout Square Dance comes around but Eddie and Steve are saddled with some car trouble.

Note: Everyone needs to go thank Bug for this incredibly adorable idea!

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Men. 

Can’t live with them, can’t…convince them not to go fishing on the day of their daughters’ Girl Scouts events. 

Eddie and Steve had promised you and Nancy that they would be home in time to take Eliza and Mia to the annual square dance. 

“We’ll get an early start,” they’d said, ignoring Eliza’s insistence that she won’t go with her father if he reeks of fish. He’d just laughed, kissed her cheek, and reiterated that he would shower before the dance. 

Maybe you’re naive for believing him. And yet, when the phone rang and Eddie’s sheepish voice explains that Steve’s car broke down—codeword for ‘we ran out of gas’—you’re wholly unsurprised. 

“I always made fun of Wayne for fishing.” Eddie muses, the payphone crackling as he exhales. “Called it an old man activity. This is what I get.”

You grit your teeth, hand clenched in a fist. “Just…get home,” you hiss, hanging up the receiver and massaging your temples. 

Who could have ever foreseen such an outcome?

While you’re stewing over the men’s incompetence, Mia remains levelheaded—just like her mother—and proposes a solution. “What if Luke and Ryan take us?”

Her suggestion is almost certainly rooted in her crush on your younger son, but it proves to be a worthwhile idea, nonetheless. Eliza’s face lights up, and before you know it, your five-year-old is dragging her brothers from their room. 

“Please?” She pouts sweetly, batting her doe eyes up at them. “Daddy and Uncle Steve can’t make it, and we can’t go all alone.” She lays it on thick, knowing full well she doesn’t have to—the boys would do just about anything for her. 

Ryan and Luke raid Eddie’s dresser drawers for flannels, finding the ones that he had nabbed from Wayne’s trailer. The girls don cowgirl hats, excitedly giggling as they climb into the back of the minivan. It’s still strange for you to see Ryan behind the wheel, but your heart swells with pride as you watch him double-check Eliza’s booster seat before pulling out of the driveway. 

At seventeen years old, Eddie Munson spent his Saturday nights selling cheap weed at high school parties—many of them, ironically, thrown by “King” Steve Harrington. 

At seventeen years old, Ryan Munson is spending his Saturday night taking his little sister and her best friend to the Girl Scouts square dance. 

“Everyone buckled?” He calls back, already knowing that they are. Still, he waits until he receives a chorus of yeses before he drives off. 

Luke turns around from the passenger seat. “Now, do we have to make a perfect square?” He keeps a serious expression, much to Ryan’s amusement. “Like, what if it’s a bit oval-y? Do we get kicked out? Do you two get banished from the Girl Scouts?”

Eliza and Mia are both used to his nonsense, and they burst into a fit of giggles. Ryan cracks a smile of his own, eyes trained on the road. 

Precious cargo and all that. 

When they arrive at the old VFW hall, the girls immediately pull them over to their group of friends. It’s a sea of young girls and their dads—and some moms—but nary a big brother in sight except for the two Munson boys. 

Ryan barely has time to feel out of place. The emcee, a middle-aged woman with bright pink lipstick and a too-wide smile, grabs the mic. 

“Welcome to our Father-Daughter Square Dance!” The room erupts into applause, quieting down only to hear about how this fundraiser supports the Girl Scouts of Indiana. The scouts repeat their pledge, which is met with more cheers, and then a western tune bleats over the old sound system. 

Eliza grabs Ryan’s hand as the emcee calls out instructions. Mia is a bit shyer with Luke, but they still manage all of the steps without stomping on the other’s toes. 

“Liza, I’m sorry Dad couldn’t make it,” Ryan says between songs. 

Eliza gives him a small smile. “That’s okay. It’s kinda cooler to bring my big brother.”

He grins. Just wait until his dad hears that. 

As everyone is getting into position for the next dance, a new song comes on that has more banjo than Luke has ever heard in his life. 

“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely in Indiana,” he says.

Mia chuckles as she peeks up at Luke from beneath the brim of her straw cowgirl hat. A blue ribbon on one of her red pigtail braids is loose so Luke reaches down to fix it for the little girl. Mia’s freckled face blooms as red as her hair. Luke pretends not to notice, not wanting to embarrass her. The big crush on Luke became obvious when she was three, and now at ten, it’s still hanging around. The fifteen-year-old Munson boy thinks it’s flattering and only ever teases her if she starts it first. 

“Ready?” Luke asks, offering Mia his hand.

“Ready!”

“But I didn't realize any of this until I was standing alone. In a barn... wife-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the woman I love is about to be kicked out of the country. So, Margaret. Marry me. Because I'd like to date you.”

Both you and Nancy hold your wine glasses, neither moving a muscle as you watch Ryan Reynolds catch up to Sandra Bullock in a New York City office building. An empty pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream sits between you on the couch, two green-smudged silver spoons resting inside. 

With the men out fishing, Ryan and Luke out with the two girls, and Natalie watching the rest of the kids over at the Harrington house, your place became the ultimate Mom’s Night In for you and Nancy. A chance to drink a little, gossip a little, have some snacks and watch some romcoms. 

Your peace has finally come to an end, however, when the front door bursts open and two men who reek of murky water, bug spray, and gasoline come barging in. 

“Jesus, Steve,” Nancy says, face pinching up at the foul odor wafting from your husbands. 

You wave a hand in front of your face as if that will make the smell dissipate any faster. 

“How were the fish?” you ask, turning your head away to give your nostrils a fighting chance.

“We caught a grand total of zero,” Steve says with a sigh, his black fishing boots looking comically misplaced on him. Neither of the men look natural in fishing gear. But when a guy from work offered Eddie the use of his boat for the day, he found he couldn’t turn it down. 

“Did you bring the fishing poles?” Nancy asks, sarcasm lining the amusement on her face.

Both men give her an annoyed side eye before Eddie looks around and takes a step towards you.

“Where are the girls?” he asks. 

“Ryan and Luke took them to the dance,” you tell him. “They should be back soon.”

Steve grimaces and claps a heavy hand down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eliza’s gonna kill you.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and spins to meet his friend’s eye.

“And Mia won’t kill you?”

Steve grins. “Not if she got to dance with Luke.” This is the only time the man has ever been thankful for Mia’s crush on the Munson teen. 

Front door still open from when the men barged in, Ryan, Luke, Eliza, and Mia walk inside, laughing and talking over one another. Ryan is giving Eliza a piggyback ride and Luke has Mia’s too-small cowgirl hat perched on top of his head. The moment Eliza’s wide brown eyes spot her father, she demands answers. 

“Daddy, where were you?”

Ryan gently lets her down and she stomps over in her beige cowgirl boots, stopping right in front of Eddie. 

“Liza, I’m so sorry,” Eddie pleads. “Our car broke down. We tried everything we could to get back in time—”

Tears build up in Eliza’s eyes and Eddie feels his heart constrict in his chest. It might as well be Eliza’s little fist squeezing it.

“You were s’post to go with me!”

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed, smelly hand over his face. “I know. And I promise I’ll go next time. But I’m glad you got to bring your brothers. 

“Did you have fun at least?” Steve asks from behind him. 

Mia nods emphatically and both you and Nancy have to bite your lips to keep from smiling. 

Eliza nods in agreement, although not as enthusiastically as her friend. “Yeah. And Ryan is a good dancer.”

Luke smirks, and if Eddie were looking at him, he’d see the devious glint in his eye. “Not as good as Dad, I’m sure.”

Loud snickers come from you, Nancy, and Steve. Eddie’s jaw drops open as he looks around the room. 

“I can dance!”

“Yeah, Dad?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah!”

“Lucky for you, we’re all right here to witness it,” Luke says with a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s no music. And I don’t really think my Metallica is easy to groove to.”

“We’ve got my Billy Joel—” you start.

“Or my *NSYNC!” Mia adds. 

“No,” Eddie says. “Thank you girls, but no.”

Smirk only growing larger, Luke pats his father on the shoulder. “Lucky for you, we’ve got just what you need.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow as he watches his son take a CD out of a Target bag he was conveniently hiding behind his back. 

“How was fishing, by the way?” Luke asks as he wrestles with the plastic engulfing the case.

“Pointless,” Steve says.

“Your uncle didn’t bring enough bait,” Eddie added. Steve is about to refute but Luke speaks before he gets the chance.

“But you would have, Dad? Does that make you a master baiter?” 

Ryan is the only one who is unable to contain his laughter. The joke goes over the girls’ heads, but you give your son a soft glare anyway. Never mind that you found it hilarious, just as you know the other adults did as well, but sometimes you’ve got to be the parent. 

Luke shrugs it off and pops the finally-freed CD into the stereo and the sound of a bow sawing over fiddle strings fills the room. Your second-oldest nods his head to Eliza.

“Go ahead, Lize. Show the old man how it’s done.”

“There’s not enough room to square dance in here,” Eddie says.

Without even so much as glancing at one another, you and Nancy get off of the couch and push it back, making plenty more space in the living room. The two of you smirk at one another and Nancy crosses her arms over her chest.

“Y’know, I don’t think it’s fair that you guys get to reap the benefits of your daughters being Girl Scouts without putting in the work.”

A grin grows on your face as you see where Nancy is going with this. 

“Yeah,” you agree, ��maybe you don’t need more Samoas this year.”

Eddie’s face falls, and he looks at Steve, who shrugs in defeat. Gotta hit the guys where it hurts: food. 

“All right, show us the moves,” Steve says.

Mia grins, a bounce in her step as she takes Eliza’s smaller hand and walks to the middle of the floor. “Okay, me and Liza will be partners. Just watch us.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two girls, one with now-messy twin red braids, and the other with a light brown cowgirl hat atop two curly pigtails. 

“Wait, if you two are dancing together, who are Eddie and I dancing with?” he asks. 

Eliza giggles. “Each other.”

“Nope,” Eddie replies. “No way.”

With an over dramatic sigh, you shrug your shoulders at your husband. “No dancing, no Samoas.”

“Damn those little coconut fuckers,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. “All right, big boy. But I get to be the guy.”

“Sure, we’ll play pretend,” Steve quips back. It’ll be a miracle if they both make it through the first dance alive.

Eliza and Mia begin to go through the motions, showing their fathers what to do. Everyone is laughing as they do-si-do and hook arms to swing each other around. 

“Did I earn my cookies yet?” Eddie asks once the next song ends.

“That’s up to your daughter,” you tell him with a shrug. 

Eddie looks at Eliza expectantly, the big puppy dog eyes that he passed down to her working their magic. 

“Almost, Daddy. You gotta dance with me first.”

“Now that, I can do.”

[sciencesolutions]

[adviceformefromme]

💖PROTECTING YOURSELF FROM LIFES CURVE BALLS AS YOU GLOW UP - PRE-2025 RE-INVENTION SERIES [WEEK 14] - 💖

So you’re trying to glow-up, change your life? Life, being life naturally start’s throwing those damn curve balls and before you know it you’re back on the floor fighting for dear life to get it together and get back on your feet. During this time, weeks if not months have passed, and so you feel behind, you feel like every time you get it together life pulls the rug from under your feet and you’re right back in square one.… So what’s the solution? If you’re absolutely serious about changing your life before 2025 you need STRONG FOUNDATIONS. Where are your roots currently? What practises do you have in place to help you stay grounded when you get hit with one of life’s inevitable problems? What and who is your support system?  In order to thrive you need need your STRONG FOUNDATIONS in place.  The basics:  Sleep, Eating, Diet, Exercise  As obvious as these seem, you really have to dive deep into each area to make sure you are covered by each subject. Are you sleeping properly? Is your diet nourishing you and supporting you? Are you hydrated? Are you moving your body daily and doing exercise? I say these are the foundations because when life starts trying to take you down, if any of the above are not strong enough you will easily start falling. No daily exercise? The anxiety will build up in your body and have no where to go, depression will host itself within your body and slump you further. The lack of orientation from not having enough sleep will only amplify the moment problems start arising. IBS, gut issues, rashes, disease will prey on your body when you are already lacking a healthy gut and immune system. However, if your diet is on point your gut is thriving, you’re on those pre-and-pro-biotics, you’re hydrated, you’re energised you are not a weak target for disease. You have strong foundations. 

Support system:  God /Spirituality,  Therapist / Mentor / Coach, Friends / Family/ Pets

First and foremost God. The moment this relationship starts to weaken, you start forgetting to pray, or spend time with God in meditation you become an easy target for mental and emotional suffering, things that were not in God’s plan can easily take hold of your life, and thats why following God and walking in faith and his purpose for your life will protect you in all seasons. Having a therapist, mentor, or coach in your corner is how you win. If you don’t have any of these, start seeking a mentor, invest in therapy, seek coaching. This is how you continue to grow and have empowering support as you do, the moment you are in difficulty you have reliable and insightful support on hand to guide you. Finally family and friends and pets offer that loving support needed to survive and thrive in the good and bad times. Toolbox:  Meditation, Affirmations, Healing Books, Youtube / Podcasts, Journalling,  Online courses 

Your toolbox is your handy kit that you strengthen before the storm. You are already meditating daily, you are already in your affirmations, speaking life into yourself each day, so when you get triggered because the guy rejects you or dumbs you, you are not so wounded. You know if it's not him it will be someone else, you are in detached energy, you are on your healing journey, you are already reading the books that keep you grounded in self development and wisdom. You’re journaling daily and taking courses online to strengthen your inner wisdom. You are not an easy target for life's problems and stresses. You are rooted in God, in loving support, in your own self love and care practises...and if you aren't there yet. This is the blueprint. Let this week be one of resilience, of remembering who you are and standing firm on your practises and staying close to your toolbox so you are prepared for what's next. Remember it's not about avoiding the problems, they are part of live, it's learning how to ride the wave and not drown that is the key.

Beautiful sounds by Jhene Aiko to end the week...

[justforbooks]

Why Gen Z cares about the next pope — and what it says about the Church

For the first time, Conclave is cool. But what does this surge in interest reveal about the relationship between the young and one of the world’s oldest institutions?

The upcoming papal election isn’t just a pivotal moment for the Catholic Church, it’s a full-blown Gen Z obsession. The Conclave is now trending, and what was once a solemn closed-door ritual has become a pop culture moment, complete with memes, fan cams and online debates.

On X, users are dissecting the ���papabiles” like they’re fantasy football picks. And while last year’s hit film “Conclave” lit the spark of interest, TikTok poured gasoline on it, with videos of cardinals striding through St. Peter’s Square like they’re headlining Coachella, robes billowing, holy swagger intact.

In a wild twist of digital fate, Gen Z is transforming the most sacred of elections into the Vatican’s viral era.

But it also goes beyond that. Users are sharing their opinions on potential candidates, weighing the pros and cons of each cardinal. Their memes and anecdotes are assigning personalities to faces that were previously unknown to the public — and rightfully so.

In the history of an institution as old as the Catholic Church, few moments are as important as this upcoming Conclave. And Gen Z’s engagement marks a significant shift in how young people view religion: Long seen as an institution for the devout, for many Gen Zers, the Church and the papacy have become political and cultural issues.

Francis understood this shift and positioned himself at the crossroads of Gen Z’s most urgent concerns. With his 2015 encyclical “Laudato Si’,” he issued a forceful call to action on climate change, denouncing political leaders for their inaction and moral complacency. For a generation facing an uncertain future, his moral clarity filled the void left by governments that fail all too often to deliver credible solutions.

The same was true of Israel’s war on Gaza: While world leaders were busy debating military support and escalation, Francis was already appealing for a ceasefire.

All of this played a role in Gen Z’s heightened interest in the pope’s passing, as well as the upcoming Conclave. However, their interest is also driven by a lingering unease stemming from their generational anxieties. Francis never spoke with hostility, but his support for LGBTQ+ rights and women’s issues were whispered. And though his rhetoric signaled a shift in the Vatican’s tone, for many outside the Church, it was insufficient, leaving the Church seen as a relic of an older, exclusionary era.

So, with Francis’ progressive legacy in the balance, Gen Z is paying close attention to who succeeds him.

Nearly 70 percent of the cardinals eligible to vote were appointed by Francis himself — a striking number, but not enough to guarantee a future aligned with his vision. Moreover, several front-runners, including U.S. Cardinal Raymond Burke, are firmly rooted in the Church’s conservative wing, worlds apart from Francis, and even further from the values and preoccupations of younger generations.

Looking at the online discourse, though, three candidates have emerged as Gen Z favorites: The current standout is Cardinal Matteo Maria Zuppi — the Archbishop of Bologna, known for his progressive stance and alignment with Francis. Zuppi has taken bold steps to make the Church more inclusive, openly welcoming LGBTQ+ individuals, supporting blessings for same-sex couples, and hinting at broader recognition of same-sex unions within a Christian framework. While drawing sharp criticism from conservative factions, his positions have resonated with a younger and more progressive audience.

Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem appointed by Francis in 2020, is another emerging progressive favorite. Demonstrating a nuanced understanding of the Palestinian cause, he has expressed solidarity with Palestinian Christians facing marginalization in the Holy Land. He has also advocated for welcoming refugees and assuming responsibility for their care, and he’s pushed for women to be in leadership roles.

A third favorite is Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle from Manila in the Philippines. Speaking out against the marginalization of LGBTQ+ people and the exclusion of divorced and remarried individuals from receiving Communion, he’s considered the progressive standard-bearer of the Asian Church.

But Gen Z’s newfound interest isn’t just about religious identity — it’s also about power dynamics. As institutions like the Church are increasingly called to account for their role in shaping our society, the stakes of the Conclave go far beyond who occupies the papal throne. It speaks to the Church’s relationship with the next generation.

And young people are making their voices heard, expressing their preferences with unexpected, and unprecedented, energy. The question is, will the Conclave choose a pope who will move the Church closer to the issues that matter to Gen Z?

Reinforcing outdated doctrines and further alienating a generation already feeling disconnected from traditional religious institutions might not be the wisest move. This isn’t just about theology or liturgy — it’s about the very future of the pope as a leader.

Gen Z is demanding more from its institutions, and the Church’s response will determine whether it can remain relevant in the decades to come.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[merpmonde]

Sangaku Saturday #14 - the grand finale!

We are only a few steps of algebra away from solving the "three circles in a triangle" problem we set in episode 7. This method will also yield general formulas for the solutions (first with height 1 and base b; for any height h and half-base k, set b=k/h and multiply the results by h).

Before we do that, it's worth noting what the sangaku tablet says. Now I don't read classical Japanese (the tablet dates back to 1854 according to wasan.jp), but I can read numbers, and fishing for these in the text at least allows me to understand the result. The authors of the sangaku consider an equilateral triangle whose sides measure 60: boxed text on the right: 三角面六尺, sankaku-men roku shaku (probably rosshaku), in which 尺, shaku, is the ten marker. In their writing of numbers, each level has its own marker: 尺 shaku for ten, 寸 sun for units, 分 fun for tenths and 厘 rin for hundredths (毛 mô for thousandths also appear, which I will ignore for brevity). Their results are as follows:

甲径三尺八寸八分六厘: diameter of the top (甲 kou) circle 38.86

乙径一尺六寸四分二厘: diameter of the side (乙 otsu) circle 16.42

反径一尺二寸四分二厘: diameter of the bottom (反 han) circle 12.42

I repeat that I don't know classical Japanese (or much modern Japanese for that matter), so my readings may be off, not to mention that these are the only parts of the tablet that I understand, but the results seem clear enough. Let's see how they hold up to our final proof.

1: to prove the equality

simply expand the expression on the right, taking into account that

(s+b)(s-b) = s²-b² = 1+b²-b² = 1.

2: the equation 2x²-(s-b)x-1 = 0 can be solved via the discriminant

As this is positive (which isn't obvious as s>b, but it can be proved), the solutions of the equation are

x+ is clearly positive, while it can be proved the x- is negative. Given that x is defined as the square root of 2p in the set-up of the equation, x- is discarded. This yields the formulas for the solution of the geometry problem we've been looking for:

3: in the equilateral triangle, s=2b. Moreover, the height is fixed at 1, so b can be determined exactly: by Pythagoras's theorem in SON,

Replacing b with this value in the formulas for p, q and r, we get

Now we can compare our results with the tablet, all we need to do is multiply these by the height of the equilateral triangle whose sides measure 60. The height is obtained with the same Pythagoras's theorem as above, this time knowing SN = 60 and ON = 30, and we get h = SO = 30*sqrt(3). Bearing in mind that p, q and r are radii, while the tablet gives the diameters, here are our results:

diameter of the top circle: 2hp = 45*sqrt(3)/2 = 38.97 approx.

diameter of the side circle: 2hr = 10*sqrt(3) = 17.32 approx.

diameter of the bottom circle: 2hq = 15*sqrt(3)/2 = 12.99 approx.

We notice that the sangaku is off by up to nearly a whole unit. Whether they used the same geometric reasoning as us isn't clear (I can't read the rest of the tablet and I don't know if the method is even described), but if they did, the difference could be explained by some approximations they may have used, such as the square root of 3. Bear in mind they didn't have calculators in Edo period Japan.

With that, thank you very much for following the Sangaku Weekends series, hoping that you found at least some of it interesting.