Calcium carbonate is well known as calcite or aragonite, but forms what is called a solid solution series in which iron and manganese can substitute for calcium in the crystal structure forming mineral end members known as dolomite (magnesium), ankerite (iron) and kutnahorite (manganese). The type locality is the town of Kutna Hora just outside Prague in the Czech Republic.
I was just watching tv with my parents and the first ace couple I've ever seen came on the show and I was so excited, but my parents made fun of them the whole time, saying they were lying to themselves, and idk I'm just feeling really shitty right now and wondering if any of you decided not to come out to your parents or someone else? and if I can be ok doing that, or if keeping that part of myself a secret will inevitably make me more miserable?
That really sucks. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. I’d hope that if your parents knew, they’d feel remorseful and learn from their behavior.
Being closeted can lead to problems like this. But thing is, these problems don’t completely go away even if everyone knew you were ace. Some people keep doing things like this, and then try to argue with you that it’s ‘okay’. Some clearly only hold it in when you’re a witness. Coming out isn’t a solid solution for anything.
“Assertive and outspoken - they are driven to lead. Excellent ability to understand difficult organizational problems and create solid solutions. Intelligent and well-informed, they usually excel at public speaking. They value knowledge and competence, and usually have little patience with inefficiency or disorganization.”
A little blurb to share with y’all while I work away at HALF. Sorry it’s taking me so long to write this update, I wanna get it perfect! In the meantime I hope you like the little blurbs I set out! Xo.
* * *
You weren’t always the best at staying calm.
You were usually pretty good at it. You had a level head and
could keep your stress under control ninety-nine percent of the time.
But every once in a while, things would pile up and spin out
of control. Every once in a while things would become too much to bear even for
you, and that’s when the one percent came out.
You were making yourself a cup of tea to try to calm your
anxiety. You weren’t a frequent tea drinker, Harry was usually the one to drink
it and often remind you of all the health benefits, but tonight you needed
something to bring you back down and ground yourself. Harry had been at the
studio all evening and you didn’t want to bother him with your problems if
there wasn’t a solid solution to them.
You grabbed ahold of the handle of the mug and were about to
walk over to the couch when your hand betrayed you, trembling suddenly and
causing a significant amount of tea to fall onto your wrist. Hissing quietly at
the sting, your first instinct was to release, which sent the glass mug to the
floor with a loud shatter.
The rest of the hot beverage was now spilled across the
floor and sprinkled with shards of the broken mug, and that was the tipping
You felt your tears well up in your eyes as kneeled onto the
ground to try to clean, but you were suddenly overcome by a wave of stress and
settled for sitting down in the kitchen tile and hugging your knees to your chest,
curling up as small as you possibly could.
You had a laundry list of things that had to be done in your
head, not to mention everything that had gone wrong or unlike you’d planned. Work
had been hell this week and you’d been trying to fix everything but the
universe really just seemed to be against you. You’d overworked yourself so
much that you hadn’t had time to unwind, especially with Harry recording so
much lately and spending less time at home. He was often the one to remind you
to eat or to take a few minutes to yourself, so without that reminder you’d often
forget to eat breakfast or work until you fell asleep at your computer. It all
added up to this moment: you, sitting on the kitchen floor, eyes puffy and red
as your cried quietly, sitting beside the broken glass.
“Baby, I’m home!”
The sound of his voice breathed air into you for the first
time in what seemed like forever. You couldn’t see him from where you were in the
house and it took you a few moments to build up your voice enough to reply, but
you finally replied, voice trembling.
“I’m in the k-kitchen,” you called out softly, your arms and
legs beginning to shake. You suddenly got cold, and you weren’t even sure that
Harry had heard your reply. But you then heard him enter the room, and it took
a minute until he found you, huddled up within yourself behind the island.
“(Y/N)!” He called out your name, his eyes widening with
unabashed concern as he rushed to you and got down on the ground beside you. He
was on his knees, his hands on your shoulders as you began to shake more
violently, your teeth chattering at this point. You didn’t remember it being
this cold in the room fifteen minutes ago.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He tried to reach you again, his large
palms caressing the length of your arms in an attempt to warm you up as he
caught sight of the goosebumps on your skin.
“It’s so c-c-cold and I can’t stop c-crying and I don’t know
why, I’m so sorry this is so stupid, I dropped and broke the mug, oh God, I’m
so stupid I broke it I broke it I broke it,” you rambled quickly and almost
incoherently, your voice coming out between short breaths and the tears still
streaming steadily down your face.
You’d only ever had one panic attack before, and it was such
a long time ago that you couldn’t even remember, but if you had to guess you’d
say that this was another one. Your breathing was short and shallow and your
frame didn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried. Everything in your mind
was piled up like a garbage dump, all the things that loomed above your head
finally collapsing onto your shoulders.
“Oh, baby. Shhh, com’ere,” Harry cooed softly, and he
situated himself behind you. He stretched his legs out on either side of your
frame so you could lean against his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly
around you; one slipped firmly around your waist to hold you against him, and
the instance your body was met with the warmth that radiated from his own, you immediately
felt a bit more at peace. His other arm was wrapped around you across your
chest, in a way that he could lay his palm flat over your chest where your
“Breathe with me, love. You can do it, c’mon. Take all the
time y’need,” he murmured against the shell of your ear in a tone so loving
that you almost broke. Your own hands immediately grasped onto his that was
resting atop of your heartbeat and you squeezed softly, your lids falling shut
as you tilted your head back against his shoulder.
“Breathe in…breathe out…stay with me, my beautiful girl,” he
guided you patiently, his voice never faltering in strength nor tenderness as
he sat with you. You followed his instructions, matching your breathing to his
words as best you could. His voice filled the room as he repeated himself over and over, and there was never a hint of impatience in his tone. There was only ever love and perhaps a little bit of worry here and there.
Harry grounded you. He was the anchor that pulled you back together when everything fell apart. In every other aspect of your life you felt like you always had to be put together, because others depended on you. You didn’t often get anxious to this degree, and since you always looked like you had it together people just expected you to always be put together. But never Harry. He accepted you as you were, and he didn’t have any of those expectations. He was happy to just let you be and be there with you along the way.
About ten minutes later you were laying calmly in
his arms with your eyes shut. You had finally stopped shivering, and you felt exhausted
from all that crying. When the room was filled with nothing except for your
quiet sniffles here and there, you heard his voice again.
“How’re we doin’, princess?”
You exhaled a shaky sigh and gave his hand a squeeze,
lifting it from your chest to your lips so that you could press soft kisses to
each and every knuckle, including the ones that had been decorated with his
“Better…thank you, my love,” you whispered, your voice raspy
from it all. You felt his lips pressing against the top of your head and
staying there. You counted seven seconds until he pulled away and gave your
frame a little squeeze.
“Mm, I’m glad…but you weren’t jus’ crying because of a
broken dish, beautiful,” he prodded gently, settling his fingers beneath your
chin to lift your features up so that he could get a good look at them. “Wha’s
You looked at his face for a long moment. You didn’t know
what you would do without this man. This man, who despite being hard at work
the entire day, dropped to his knees and held you for who knows how long. He
had a knack for being there right when you needed him, and some days you could
swear he was an actual angel.
“I’m…I’m just overwhelmed. I have so many things to do at
work, and I’m so TIRED, I can’t remember when I got a good night’s rest…” you
admitted, a bit shamefully. You didn’t want Harry to think that you couldn’t
function without him, and you knew it was possible he’d feel a little but
guilty that he wasn’t around as much this week.
He was silent for a few seconds, and you were about to speak
again when you heard his voice.
“Why don’ we make a list, hm? You like lists, right? I see
you writin’ them down all the time,” he offered as he began pressing soft
kisses along the side of your neck and down your shoulder. You exhaled a happy
little sigh. He was right—the first thing you always did when you were
overwhelmed like this was to write down everything that was on your mind and
tackle each thing one by one. It touched you that he’d payed attention enough
“That sounds like a good plan,” you said with a soft smile,
the first one since you’d gotten home that day.
“Perfect. But you’re gettin’ a good couple hours o’ sleep
first. No fightin’ me on it, either,” he threatened, his voice stern yet loving
at the same time.
“No buts, (Y/N). You need your rest—I jus’ found you in
pieces on the floor, for God’s sake. Not tha’ I mind holding you, but I’d
rather do it without the tears,” he declared, nuzzling his nose softly against
the smooth skin of your cheek. “Y’know it breaks m’heart to see you in pain…”
You closed your eyes again and nodded, his words striking a
chord with you. You knew it hurt Harry to see you in pain, maybe even more than
it had hurt you.
“Alright,” you agreed.
He seemed content with your response, and gave you a final
tight squeeze before unwinding himself from your frame.
“Off t’bed you go, then. I’ll get this all cleaned up,” he
offered. You stood up off of the ground and turned to look at him. He had
already picked himself up as well, and he looked down at you with such love and
unshaken admiration that it was hard to not throw yourself at him and live in
his arms the rest of your life.
“Are you coming, too?”
“Of course,” he reassured. Satisfied with his answer, you
turned and headed towards the bedroom.
About ten minutes later, when you had gotten yourself
settled into bed in your (Harry’s) sweater and a pair of sweatpants, you heard
him enter the room. You slowly opened your eyes and watched him as he peeled
his shirt off of his torso and wiggled himself out of his jeans. You knew you
were supposed to be sleeping, but you couldn’t without Harry’s warmth. So when
you finally felt his body shift the mattress and his arms wind around you, you
exhaled a soft sigh of relief. You heard him chuckle softly in response, his
legs playfully intertwining with yours.
“Better?” He mumbled, pressing you tight against his chest.
“Much,” you whispered, already half asleep. “I’m sorry I’m
such a crying, panicky mess.”
He stayed quiet for a long time, and for a second you
thought you’d said something wrong, until you felt his lips linger against the
back of your shoulder, followed by a low whisper.
“If you’re gonna be a cryin’, panicky mess…well, I’ll be
here t’hold you every time.”
I’m just gonna go ahead and do a Naboo color symbolism post.
Okay, so all of my headcanons on this start with Padme’s fashion choices, which are always symbolic, especially when she’s in her official role as Queen / Senator. So on that basis, here are some basics of color symbolism in Naboo culture:
White: peace, joy, celebration, renewal (Padme wears white to celebrate at the end of TPM, and to her wedding. She also wears white for Shmi’s funeral, but I think she may be aware of the connotations of mourning that white carries on Tatooine. And she’s still wearing white on Geonosis, possibly because she didn’t have time to change but Padme always has time to change or possibly because she’s there to look for a peaceful solution.)
Black: solidity, unwavering principles, taking a stand (Padme wears black in several of her key Senate speeches, as well as when she makes her decision to fight for her people by going to Coruscant in TPM)
Red: a royal color, representing life, vitality, the passion of idealism (Padme wears red in her two most idealistic moments in TPM, and she wears a darker red for the battle to retake Naboo)
Purple: grief, mourning, sometimes nostalgia (Padme wears purple for the first time after making the difficult decision to leave her people behind to seek justice in the Senate. She also wears purple at Qui-Gon’s funeral, and several times in ROTS. And Queen Apailana wears silver accented with purple at Padme’s funeral.)
Blue: a color with strong spiritual connotations, can represent new life and hope, and is therefore often used in funeral customs (Padme wears blue in the scene when she tells Anakin she’s pregnant, and again at her funeral.)
Yellow: joy, laughter, hope, often a celebratory color, and also a color associated with youth (Think Padme’s meadow dress.)
Pink: has a lot of similar associations with yellow, tinged with a sense of newness and innocence.
Green: growth, life, newness, hope (This isn’t a color Padme really wears often, and when she does in ROTS, it’s a dim green for a dim hope.)
Silver: tradition, remembrance, building on the past (Padme wears this on Coruscant in TPM, and Apailana wears it at Padme’s funeral.)
Brown: an earthy color, representing simplicity, groundedness, strength (Padme wears brown on Mustafar.)
the parallels have been super super obvious for a reason, i think, and it’s probably just to point out the similarities between isak and sana as characters, as people who internalize everything, who have a hard time letting themselves feel things and open up but with isak he was fighting something completely different than sana, he was fighting himself/who he was. the google searches weren’t.. all that similar if you think about it? “how to get turned on by girls if you are gay” is a different situation than “how to get over a guy.” isak’s search result didn’t really end on a solid, concrete solution but sana’s kind of did. so i think that the parallels are either going to stop now or stop very soon to maybe emphasize sana’s story branching off and shifting into a different lesson/new territory
“A muse project? So what you’ll be Rose and he’ll play Jack?
Wait even better-… He’ll draw you like one of his French girls?”
With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you had saw this coming.
As soon as you mentioned becoming Junior’s muse for one of his projects to
Jackson, you knew he wouldn’t understand. The blonde was in no way the artistic
type. Instead of painting and sculpting like the other, Jackson was into more
physical activities such as basketball, swimming, rugby; things in that matter.
Whatever sport thrown in his face, he could play every position possible and
flawlessly. It was a natural born gift as he liked to call it.
For my lack of activity here’re some wip shots of Ages of Arda Anthology project…had to recompose this thing so many times till I found, hopefully, a more solid solution than earlier versions. Reasons for my absence you can read here …that stuff :/
Seven year-old Prince Niall Horan was extremely over his position as prince of Northern Ireland. Even at his young age, Niall couldn’t stand the pompous and pretentious ways that he was forced to live by, no matter how much his servants told him how “blessed” he was. He knows how hard it must be to be a peasant, but there was no way, in Niall’s mind, that it was worse than living in the castle that was now above him as he trekked along the beach.
He hated his clothes and his lack of friends. He hated how he never saw his parents and he hated his etiquette lessons and he hated being a prince.
Just the thought of going back to that terrible, lonely castle made him fall to the soft, sandy ground of the beach and curl up on himself, letting out small hiccups as his tears began to flow.
He stayed like that for a moment in his own self-pity, wallowing for a moment until- “Are you alright?”
The voice is young, unlike any other he had heard in several months. It was deeper than his own but high-pitched nonetheless; quite obviously emitting from another young boy, specifically the one sitting near him on a rock.
He was naked from what Niall could see, but that didn’t really phase the young prince as he wasn’t at all sure what peasants wore these days.
“I’m okay.” He mumbles softly, still measuring up the boy across him. He had been taught before to never trust strangers… but this was a boy his age.. a potential friend.
The boy gives him a dubious look but shrugs, and ends up smiling in a way that completely disarms the blonde, making him relax a bit. “What’s your name, then?” The boy asks and Niall withholds his surprise barely. He was under the impression that everyone knew who he was.
Niall hesitates. His servants were always sure to refer to him as “master” or “sir” or the occasional “Prince Niall,” but the blonde wasn’t too fond of the fancy titles. “I’m Niall.” He states simply and the boy on the rock smiles.
“Ni-all?” The boy sounds out, tilting his head as if the letters themselves are completely new to him. “That’s a funny name.”
The blonde’s eyebrows furrow in worry. His name isn’t weird… is it? His ma had always said that his name meant “Champion” and that it was the name of his great great great great grandfather, who had begun their dynasty in the first place.
“I mean that in a good way, of course.” The brunet child adds, seeing his new friend’s concerned look. “I think it’s a beautiful name.”
At that Niall’s cheeks go pink and he tries to hide his toothy smile. His ma also said that he shouldn’t show his teeth- not until he was old enough to have them fixed. “What’s your name?” He asks curiously.
The opposing boy grins, “I’m Harry.” He says just as simply as Niall had.
They sit, staring at each other with stupid smiles on their faces for a bit longer before voices begin to sound off in the distance. “Oh no…” Niall whispers, recognizing the voices of some of his closest servants.
“What is it? Who are they?” Harry asks hurriedly and Niall makes a whining noise.
“They’re my… parent’s friends. They’re gonna take me away.” He sniffles a bit, tears already gathering as he remembers what he’ll have to return to.
Harry lets out a low whining noise as well, obviously feeling Niall’s distress. “It’s okay…” He tries to sooth from his place on the rock. “Come back here when you can and I’ll be here. We can be friends, right?” Harry asks and Niall brightens a bit at the thought.
“Yeah. We can be friends–” Niall’s cut off as he’s abruptly turned around as larger, rough hands begin to scan his body for injury.
“Prince Niall, are you hurt? Where have you been, young man?” Liam, Niall’s caretaker asks worriedly, concern evident in his eyes.
Niall shrugs, gesturing back to where Harry was, “I was just talking to…” He trails off as he makes eye contact with the now vacant rock. His eyebrows furrow. “Myself.” He finishes awkwardly and Liam gives him a confused look.
“Niall why in the world would you run off like that?” Louis, one of Niall’s other servants asks, huffing a bit from the run he had just taken down the beach.
The blonde sniffs lightly, “I just wanted to play on the beach…” He offers lamely.
Fortunately for Niall, Liam’s always had a soft spot for his puppy-dog eyes. “Oh, mister Niall, you’re so lucky that I love you or you’d be in so much trouble.” He mutters, picking the young prince up into his arms and whisking him away, back to the dark, horrible castle as Niall stared off into the sea, wondering where his friend had gone.
* * * *
Harry and Niall continue to meet.
It starts as two best friends, meeting every now and again to talk about stupid things like the stars in the sky and how the ocean feels.
“The ocean is scary.” Eleven year-old Niall states one day and Harry frowns so deeply, Niall’s afraid he’s actually offended him.
“Nuh-uh.” Harry protests unhappily. “Why do you say that?”
Nial flushes a bit, not liking having a differing opinion to Harry. They almost alway agree on things. “I just.. my pa always says that the ocean is too dangerous for me. I can’t swim and… there’s sharks and other scary things that are always swimming around.”
“That’s not true!” Harry says loudly and Niall flinches. He and Harry had never fought before and he didn’t want to start now. “Sorry, sorry.” The brunet says softly. “It’s just… Niall, I have to show you something.”
Niall looks confused and a bit scared as he sees Harry climb down from the rock. There’s a shocking splash and Niall rushes forward, uncaring as he hits the cold water. He wades for a little but soon reaches where he can’t stand and begins flailing desperately. Oh right, he can’t swim.
He lets out a high-pitched squeal, no sign of Harry anywhere, when he feels something grab him. He screams even louder until he realizes that the arms around him are acutely human. “H-Harry?!” He shouts out, hair fallen into his eyes, obstructing his view. In a hurry, Niall’s set into the shallow water near the shore, where he falls back onto the safety of the sand. Niall hurriedly brushes the hair away from his face and finds himself much closer to Harry than he had ever been before. Seeing as the blonde couldn’t swim, and Harry’s rock was always aways from the shore, he had never been closer than 7 or so feet, but now he could see every line and dimple that dotted his cheeks.
Niall lets out a confused noise the moment his eyes connect with Harry’s lower body. As a young prince, Niall had met all sorts of people, but he had never before come into contact with a real-life mermaid before.
“Mermaid…” Niall whispers, remembering the fantasy stories Liam used to read him when he was younger.
“Merman” Harry corrects lowly, a bit of a scoff stuck in his voice, but he seems pleased that Niall hasn’t run away yet.
Niall is quiet for a bit, allowing the new information to sink in as he stares at his friend, until he stands shakily, walking closer to the now nervous looking Harry.
“You came to save me.” Niall murmurs, gesturing out where he had nearly drowned before and Harry nods calmly.
The young merman looks as if it was obvious all along as he smiles gently, “Of course, I’ll always come to save you Niall.”
The blonde prince doesn’t say anymore, simply jumping forward to embrace Harry fiercely.
* * * *
“One day…” A thirteen year-old Harry muses, “I’m going to save you.”
Niall props his head up, looking at his best friend more closely, confused look clear on his smiling face. “What do you mean, silly? You save me all the time.” He states truthfully. Harry was his best friend.
Harry rolls his eyes and splashes the blonde prince. “No, I’m gonna save you and take you away from that stupid castle that you hate so much. And while I’m at it, you can save me from the stupid castle I hate so much. Win-win, right?”
The two young teens had this conversation years ago, when the both simultaneously spilled the truth about their heritage, both guilty and scared of the others reactions until they realized their stupidity and laughed for hours.
Niall sighs, somewhat dreamily (something he did often when talking to Harry, or just being around Harry, or just thinking of Harry), as he responds. “Yeah. You save me, I’ll save you.” He says assuredly, reaching his pinky out across the water and giggling as Harry links a damp finger with his own.
* * * *
“Remember the day you first showed me these?” Sixteen year-old Niall Horan asks Harry.
The brunet, who’s sunbathing leisurely on his rock next to the shirtless blonde who had gotten there earlier (with quite a bit of help). “Of course. I was so nervous. How old were we? Ten?”
“Eleven, I think.” Niall corrects. “To think, even back then I thought you were cute.” The blonde teases, flicking Harry’s now sharp and angular jaw playfully.
Harry nips at the fingers, winking at the blue-eyed prince flirtatiously. “I’ve always thought you were cute. From the day that I met you, even now.” He says, joking tone dissipated from his voice.
Niall grins at the burnet lovingly. They had yet to truly “consummate” their relationship but there was an unspoken bond between the two, a silent understanding, that they were meant to be. There was constant jibber jabber among the boys, of seaweed rings and a dual-life between Harry’s underwater castle and Niall’s. They had yet to find a solid solution to the whole merman/human thing… but they were working on it.
“Harry, you know I don’t know how to swim.” Niall complains, as Harry begins tugging him into the water, all the way up until Niall’s on his tippy-toes, unattractively yelling at Harry to help him back to shore. Harry simply chuckles at the blonde and tugs him even closer until Niall grabs onto his shoulders and pulls his legs around the brunet, relying fully on the other. “Y-you dick.” Niall stutters, a bit winded by their sudden close proximity.
Harry laughs, not even making much of an effort to keep himself completely afloat. There’s a couple beats of silence, and there’s something going on- something about the way the green of the ocean and the blue of the sky is reflecting in their eyes- that makes the air change. The water is too hot all of a sudden and Harry brings his hand to grasp around the blonde’s neck, his other hand winding around to fix Niall’s shaking legs to wrap comfortably around his waist.
“Is this…?” He whispers huskily and Niall simply nods, not trusting his voice.
“Good.” Harry returns cockily, moving in swiftly to kiss the blonde prince. It’s salty and messy and completely uncoordinated as both the boys are new to this whole kissing thing, but the world around them is still fading as the invisible crowns that should be on their heads slowly sink away and they become much less than two princes sneaking off to see each other. They’re less, yet so much more. They’re just two people, two people who fell in love way too young and can’t find a better way to express their feelings than to battle it out in a wet, passionate kiss.
And they don’t stop, they only progress as their time runs short. Harry begins to rely less heavily on his fins by pushing Niall against a rock– the same one he sat on the day they met– and beginning to incorporate his tongue as the sun begins to burn the blonde’s fair skin.
The familiar voices force them to break away from each other with low groans.
Niall looks away with blown-out, lustful eyes as he blinks rapidly. “Liam,” He groans, rolling his eyes as the voice becomes closer and closer. “I have to go.” He says sadly, but Harry just shakes his head uncaringly, moving in for another peck before helping Niall back to shore.
“I love you.” The merprince states simply and that’s that.
* * * *
Then, Harry disappears.
It starts with just a couple of missed meetings. Niall brushes it off because Harry’s missed their meet-ups before. Sometimes he gets caught up in his princely life underwater, and other times he gets grounded for spending too much time away, so Niall tries to let it not get to him.
But two days turns into two weeks which turns into two months and Niall finally has to face facts. Harry may not be returning. Maybe he got bored of the blonde or realized that it wasn’t worth the effort to swim up to the surface all day just to see a measly, lonely prince above water. Maybe Harry died in some freak accident.
It’s not like anyone “down under” would think to tell the human that Harry’s been secretly seeing every other day.
But Niall doesn’t allow himself to give up on his best friend. Some call it loyal, others call it denial. Either way, Niall still goes every day, down to the beach, to wait for his merprince to return.
* * * *
* * * *
Two years pass and suddenly Niall’s 18.
His brother, Greg is due to take over the crown in exactly one more year when his 30th birthday takes place. The celebrations of his brother’s birthday just made Niall angrier.
Celebrations made time real; made the fact that time was moving on without Harry and by extension- Niall- real. It was painful and harsh and it was the reason why no one saw the young prince any longer.
He knew of the rumors that flew around his name, words like “loner,” “recluse, “freak,” and “retard” were common. The more creative ones involved love stories of lost girlfriends that loved the ocean- why else would the prince spend all of his time at the sandy shores?
But he didn’t care. The beach kept him calm- kept him alive. The nostalgic feeling that was accompanied by the salty air and the windy in his short hair kept him breathing as the residue of happiness and actual companionship lingered behind. He was lonely, but now completely at the beach. Sometimes, he could even pretend that Harry was just away for a bit, due to be back home any day.
But the day seems like it’ll never come and its on the very day of Greg’s 29th birthday celebration that Niall begins to lose hope.
He hears Liam’s yells and the same nostalgia of deriding those low-octaves returns and he rolls his eyes.
But then he hears another voice. Just as low as Liam’s, if not lower– certainly not Louis.
It’s so surprising to the prince that he forces himself to look up, which is when he stands up abruptly, confused at exactly what he was looking at.
The intensity of Liam’s shouts (telling him to “Run!”) scare him a bit as he sees a dark figure making their way quickly towards him. To any other, it looks threatening. An unknown, scarily large and shadowy figure rushing towards the young, innocent blonde prince may look a bit horrifying.
But Niall knows that stature, he knows those arms and he certainly, without fail knows those green eyes.
“Harry” Niall breathes, no ounce of doubt in his mind as the green eyes get closer and closer. The two collide at a surprising speed, and Niall finds himself being literally whisked off his feet as Harry spins him around, using his actually coordinated feet very well.
“What are you- How- Feet?!” Niall exclaims and Harry throws his head back in laughter.
“I’ve got so much to tell you.” He says and Niall nods in agreement.
That’s when Liam catches up to them, huffing and breathing out loudly as he growls, “What in the hell is going on here?!”
* * * *
An hour and a half later, Niall and Harry are sitting on Niall’s ginormous bed, much too close to one another to be deemed appropriate, but Niall couldn’t help but cuddle close to his oldest and dearest companion. His head is tucked safely in the crook of Harry’s neck as his legs are draped over Harry’s lap. The brunet is massaging little circles into the blonde’s calf, whispering bits and pieces of his story for the past two years.
There’s a lot Niall doesn’t really understand, and he knows he’s going to have to get Harry to re-explain later, but he tries to catch what he can.
There’s a lot of mentions of “father” and “angry” and “octopus-witch” as well as “clumsy” and “lost” but Niall finds it extremely hard to keep up.
“I missed you so much.” Niall voices quietly when there’s a lull in Harry’s story. “I was so, so lonely without you.” He says, unable to keep the quake out of his voice. He doesn’t want to make Harry feel guilty, not now that he knows at least some of how difficult it was for the ex-merman himself, but he felt the need to at least say what he felt.
Harry holds him tighter, digging his nose deep into Niall’s skin and inhaling. “I love you more than I did then. Missing you intensified everything I already felt for you. I hope you know that I would’ve never hurt you like that on purpose. You have to know that all I ever wanted to do was protect you. Always, I’ve always wanted to save you.” Harry says earnestly and Niall knows. He knows from the countless times Harry promised to save him, both from Niall’s fears and the life that the young prince hated.
“I know.” Niall says, moving so that he can look directly into Harry’s own watery eyes. “I know that.”
And they kiss like nothings changed. Love like theirs- it’s not one that;s bound by time or distance. It wasn’t ever going to fade, not this kind of love.
And no, Niall’s parents were not, “pleased” per say, to see that Niall’s “imaginary” boyfriend was in all actuality real.They were even less so pleased when Harry had gotten down on his knees, explaining his own position as technical prince of Atlantis (despite his sudden… enhancement) and his absolute adoration for their son.
However, when they really looked at their own son, who had spent the past two years depressed, silent, and lonely, who was actually smiling and happy– it wasn’t at all difficult to make their decision.
Hahahahah i’m back-ish??? I honestly have no promises about updates. I will say that I’m gonna try and updated 3 musketeers next b/c I don’t wanna leave my chaptered fics hanging. Thanks so much to everyone who’s still sticking w/ me :)
For the science purposes: What could Gabe be trying to conclude? And what would the results benefit to? I had an idea that he could possibly be trying out different methods and seeing what physiological responses occur with different stimuli (chemicals released would be a factor too). The data he could be collecting could be for a very mischevious or very "helpful" solution. A solid formation(powder) made to tickle? A sensitivity boosted liquid 5 times that of baby oil? Who knows?
Ooooo interesting! I’m so boring I was literally just gonna make it him testing out the best techniques to get the best reactions lol, but I like the idea that he’s using the data in order to produce something that makes tickling a /lot/ worse… That’s definitely something fun to play around with ;)
INFJs have uncanny insight into people and situations. They get “feelings” about things and intuitively understand them. As an extreme example, some INFJs report experiences of a psychic nature, such as getting strong feelings about there being a problem with a loved one, and discovering later that they were in a car accident. This is the sort of thing that other types may scorn and scoff at, and the INFJ themselves does not really understand their intuition at a level which can be verbalized. Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.
Javert ISTJ [THE INSPECTOR]
ISTJs tend to believe in laws and traditions, and expect the same from others. They’re not comfortable with breaking laws or going against the rules. If they are able to see a good reason for stepping outside of the established mode of doing things, the ISTJ will support that effort. However, ISTJs more often tend to believe that things should be done according to procedures and plans. If an ISTJ has not developed their Intuitive side sufficiently, they may become overly obsessed with structure, and insist on doing everything “by the book”.
Fantine ISFP [THE ARTIST]
ISFPs are warm and sympathetic. They genuinely care about people, and are strongly service-oriented in their desire to please. They have an unusually deep well of caring for those who are close to them, and are likely to show their love through actions, rather than words. ISFPs have no desire to lead or control others, just as they have no desire to be led or controlled by others. They need space and time alone to evaluate the circumstances of their life against their value system, and are likely to respect other people’s needs for the same. The ISFP is likely to not give themselves enough credit for the things which they do extremely well. Their strong value systems can lead them to be intensely perfectionist, and cause them to judge themselves with unnecessary harshness.
Cosette ISFJ [THE DEFENDER]
ISFJs live in a world that is concrete and kind. They are truly warm and kind-hearted, and want to believe the best of people. People value the ISFJ for their consideration and awareness, and their ability to bring out the best in others by their firm desire to believe the best. ISFJs have a rich inner world that is not usually obvious to observers. They constantly take in information about people and situations that is personally important to them, and store it away. This tremendous store of information is usually startlingly accurate, because the ISFJ has an exceptional memory about things that are important to their value systems.
Marius INFP [THE DREAMER]
INFPs are highly intuitive about people. They rely heavily on their intuitions to guide them, and use their discoveries to constantly search for value in life. They are on a continuous mission to find the truth and meaning underlying things. Every encounter and every piece of knowledge gained gets sifted through the INFP’s value system, and is evaluated to see if it has any potential to help the INFP define or refine their own path in life. The goal at the end of the path is always the same - the INFP is driven to help people and make the world a better place.
Enjolras ENTJ [THE COMMANDER]
ENTJs are natural born leaders. They live in a world of possibilities where they see all sorts challenges to be surmounted, and they want to be the ones responsible for surmounting them. They have a drive for leadership, which is well-served by their quickness to grasp complexities, their ability to absorb a large amount of impersonal information, and their quick and decisive judgments. They are “take charge” people. Assertive and outspoken - they are driven to lead. Excellent ability to understand difficult organizational problems and create solid solutions. Intelligent and well-informed, they usually excel at public speaking. They value knowledge and competence, and usually have little patience with inefficiency or disorganization.
Eponine ESFP [THE ENTERTAINER]
ESFPs love people, and everybody loves an ESFP. One of their greatest gifts is their general acceptance of everyone. They are upbeat and enthusiastic, and genuinely like almost everybody. An ESFP is unfailingly warm and generous with their friends, and they generally treat everyone as a friend. However, once coerced, an ESFP is likely to make a very strong and stubborn judgment against the person who crossed them. They are capable of deep dislike in such a situation. The ESFP under a great deal of stress gets overwhelmed with negatives thoughts and possibilities. As an optimistic individual who lives in the world of possibilities, negative possibilities do not sit well with them.
ROMs. The opposite of RAMs. Where RAM (Random Access Memory) can be read from and rewritten to excessively at high speeds, but lose all that data upon losing power, ROM (Read Only Memory) can’t be frivolously written to, but instead retains its data for as long as it is in tact.
But there are many kinds of ROM in the world. Let’s go explore them!
Precipitation is the creation of a solid in a solution or inside another solid during a chemical reaction or by diffusion in a solid. When the reaction occurs in a liquid solution, the solid formed is called the ‘precipitate’.The chemical that causes the solid to form is called the 'precipitant’. Without sufficient force of gravity (settling) to bring the solid particles together, the precipitate remains in suspension. For that reason, centrifuges are commonly used.
Precipitation may occur if the concentration of a compound exceeds its solubility (such as when mixing solvents or changing their temperature). Precipitation may occur rapidly from a supersaturated solution.
In solids, precipitation occurs if the concentration of one solid is above the solubility limit in the host solid, due to e.g. rapid quenching or ion implantation, and the temperature is high enough that diffusion can lead to segregation into precipitates. Precipitation in solids is routinely used to make nano clusters.
An important stage of the precipitation process is the onset of nucleation. The creation of a hypothetical solid particle includes the formation of an interface, which requires some energy based on the relative surface energy of the solid and the solution. If this energy is not available, and no suitable nucleation surface is available, supersaturation occurs.
Basically, I've been having some trouble finding some current masterlists of labels you could use for whenever applying for a roleplay or making your own character so I've taken it upon myself to make one and I really hope it helps. Some of them are going to be with some detail and others are just simply going to be listed. Please either like this or reblog if you helped you and whatnot.
REQUEST (by anon): Can I request an imagine where reader has acne and she’s super insecure about it and her best friend Peter reassures her and just a lot of fluff (maybe a kiss) ? I’m sorry if it’s too specific but you’re such an awesome writer and it’ll be really comforting for me to read (not trying to pressure you into doing it though, talented people like you should do whatever they want✨)
NOTE: Thank you for requesting! I’m sorry this took so long, I received this a while ago before I left for vacation, so I hope you don’t mind! This was an awesome request and I hope you realize that you are amazing and beautiful no matter what! <3 PS. This is inspired by true experiences!
C/N = classmate’s name
The blaring sound of your alarm abruptly woke you from your sleep. Groaning, you rolled over and slammed the off button, staring angrily at the glowing numbers that read 6:00 AM. Standing up, you staggered to the washroom and blinked at your reflection. Marks dotted your face, some angry and inflamed, and some faded into scars. Your heart sank as you stared into your own eyes in the mirror. Why does this have to happen to me? Why can’t I have beautiful skin like everyone else? You thought, frustratedly.
This happened every morning, so often, in fact, that it might as well be a part of your morning routine. Every day, you’d wake up and go to look in the mirror, hoping that overnight, some type of miracle happened and all of your acne would be gone. But no matter how many remedies you tried, whether it be toothpaste or prescription pills, nothing worked.
Sighing, you washed your face and applied makeup, attempting to cover up the spots that you so despised. Even though the classmates in school weren’t particularly mean, as in, they never really said anything to your face, you knew that they would sometimes stare a bit too long or make pitying comments behind your back. You hated when they tried to give you advice, as if they knew what it was like to struggle with acne. Just seeing your reflection in the mirror was enough to make you feel embarrassed, and you often found yourself blushing whenever someone paid any attention to you.
Transformation of a supersaturated solution into solid crystals
It just takes one small nudge to spark the transformation of a seemingly stable liquid into a solid. The liquid – a supersaturated solution of sodium acetate – consists of water with more dissolved sodium acetate salt than can be stably sustained. Drop in a salt crystal and provide the kick needed to start the transformation into the more thermodynamically favourable solid state.
But if the solid state is more thermodynamically stable, why does it exist as a liquid at all? It’s to do with scale: the solution is only better off as a solid at the macroscopic scale – the scale of the whole solution. On a microscopic scale, the individual crystals are not thermodynamically favourable, so until you start it off with a salt crystal (which is, relatively, a huge disturbance), the transformation won’t begin.
Summary: Just as Steve and Tony experience their first kiss, the rest of the Avengers walk in on them. Of course.
A/N: Kinda based on this prompt even though I wasn’t entirely sure what they meant and never got an explanation. Oh well, I hope you enjoy this very short Stony fic.
It was Friday; rainy, early, and gloomy. Steve found Tony in the kitchen, all but falling asleep at the table.
“Long night?” he asked, grabbing Tony’s coffee cup to refill it.
Tony rubbed at his eyes. “You have no idea. Whoever it was who suggested having a morning meeting on a Friday will get fired.” He grumbled a thank you when Steve returned his cup. “Or at least have to deal with me being grumpy.”
So for a while I’ve been thinking about doing a series of “Agony Aunt” videos…sort of. I don’t want to give advice as such or answer your questions with solid, cure-all answers because…let’s be honest, I don’t do that! I’m not qualified to do that, like I’ve always said. But I get a lot of tumblr messages sent to me asking for advice on certain situations and I feel like my own experiences and stories on such matters may be interesting to more people than my tumblr can reach and more fun to tell on camera, “in person”, as it were.
Firstly, what do you think of this idea? Is it something you’d be interested in watching?
Secondly, if so, I set up a special email a while back for projects like this so if you’d like to ask if I’ve had experiences with something you’re currently experiencing and you’re happy to share it and for me to use it in a video, send an email firstname.lastname@example.org and summarise your topic/scenario in the subject of the email so I have a vague idea what your email will entail!
I’m looking for anything really. Good and bad experiences. Weird and wonderful. Anything you’d like to get someone else’s take on and find out if other people have been through what you’re going through too and how they, personally, dealt with it!
Like I said, these won’t be advice videos so please don’t email looking for a solid solution to your problem or experience because chances are, I don’t have it! But what I’m more likely to have is a plethora of memories from when I was in a similar situation and experience from said scenario!
I think it could open up some really good discussions but let me know what you think!