#while there are some similarities at the outermost layer of plot

[alianoralacanta]

For those of you who are boycotting F1: The Movie, please consider instead watching "Rapide" (French) or "Faster" (English). It was released in mid-April, and I suspect in many places it is no longer at the cinema. (According to its website, my local cinema never screened it). However, if film schedules work like they usually do, it will be on DVD and/or streaming services in the next month or so. Please do look out for it, as it has the following strengths that F1: The Movie apparently lacks: - A Black female protagonist (played by Paola Locatelli)… - …who is portrayed as reasonably good at her job… - …and has realistic strengths and weaknesses. - A more realistic plot (it's another "return to motorsport" plot, but she doesn't wait 30 years and also goes to a racing academy - There is a romance, in which both parties have agency. - There is no pretence of equal opportunity existing in this movie, and this is factored into the plot. - Portrays junior single-seaters prominently and seriously. - According to a review by Guilliame Creis (in French), there is no dead time and the film lasts less time than many Grands Prix.

[erbiumspectrum]

The atomic radius, shielding, and the lanthanide contraction

As you hopefully already know, there are several trends of the elements' properties that you can squeeze out of the periodic table. The one I want to focus on in this post is the atomic radius.

The shorter and simpler explanation is as follows: if you move from the top to the bottom, the radius increases, which is simply the result of more electron shells (“layers”) being added to the atom. Moving left to right, the radius decreases and that is caused by the growing positive charge of the nucleus attracting the valence electrons more strongly like the swole doge and therefore shrinking the atom.

But chemistry is a science, and the sciences are beautifully complex, so let me tell you about this one intricacy affecting the radius. We’re going to need some knowledge of the electronic structure of an atom, but I'll try to fit all that you really need to know inside a single paragraph.

The compact version is this: inside the atom, there are little pockets of space where electrons can be, so to say. Those pockets are called orbitals and they have all sorts of funky shapes. The s orbitals, for example, are ball-shaped, while the p orbitals look roughly like balloons attached to the nucleus. (They're sometimes described as dumbbell-shaped. What sort of dumbbell looks like that. They're balloons.)

[source]

Back to the radii! I'm going to use the second period as an example here, but there's nothing special about it. It just happens to be quite a simple case. Lithium and beryllium only have s orbitals, so that's not very interesting, but the rest of the period has both s and p orbitals.

As we move from lithium, across the whole period, and to fluorine (there's no need to engage the noble freaks), three important things happen: the radius decreases, each next element has one more proton in the nucleus than the previous one, and also each next element has one extra valence electron. Duh. The number of electrons "inside" doesn't change, it's only the outermost shell that gains electrons.

But remember, an electron is not a marble sitting in one point at all times. When it comes to electrons in atoms, it's better to imagine them as lil clouds of negative charge in the shape of their respective orbitals. As a result, the core electrons obscure the nucleus from the valence electrons. Not entirely! But the attractive force felt by the valence electrons isn't just equal to whatever Coulomb's law would give us - it's a bit smaller. This is called the shielding effect and the charge that valence electrons actually "feel" from the protons in the nucleus is called effective nuclear charge. The atomic radius is therefore a tad bigger than we could assume without acknowledging shielding (but the trend of a decreasing atomic radius across the periodic table still stands, of course).

So, what about the lanthanides, those poor, misunderstood outcasts thrown under the periodic table?

God I love pubchem's periodic table it's so pretty!

There's no plot twist here, they don't break the trend. Cerium is the biggest one, lutetium the smallest. So what gives? See, lanthanides begin filling up their f orbitals, whose shapes are so absurd even I am afraid of them.

[source]

Because they're so ridiculous, they are supremely bad at shielding the positive charge of the nucleus, which in turn makes the lanthanides significantly smaller than they would be if this effect didn't take place - so much so that we call this phenomenon the lanthanide contraction. Actually, the f orbitals suck at shielding so bad that the radii of the (d-block) metals of the sixth period are very similar to the radii of the elements in the period above them - even though they should be much larger!

[source]

Really. Chemistry is like psychology for electrons. Everything that happens here is caused by these guys' weird behavior.

[maximsdeadwife]

I am your Watson, and you, my Holmes

Sherlock Holmes x Dr John Watson — 1.3k words

On AO3 here

∘₊✧ Summary: The end of another case denotes the end of Holmes being the (almost) sole focus of Watsons attention, but Watson knows just how to reassure him.

∘₊✧ A/N: This was written with Granada/ACD Holmes and Watson in mind but works for any victorian iteration of the pair. I wrote this off the back of finishing Sherlock Holmes & The Christmas Demon, which took them away from London, and I just kept having thoughts every time one of them said something like 'I take it you're not coming to bed?'

∘₊✧ Content/warnings: nsfw, kissing, handjob/frotting, fluff, jealousy, end of investigation tiredness, Watson is married in this but Mary knows, written from Watson's POV in the style of canon and as such incorporates some Victorian words, themes and values.

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Holmes followed me to my room, and I wondered whether it had all been an act; whether the investigation hadn’t yet ended entirely, his reveal had been a ruse, and I was in for yet another wakeful night. I admit I wasn’t sure I would be fit for any more action, but as always I was prepared to do whatever necessary to aid Holmes in his endeavours.

We had only stepped through the threshold when I found myself lodged between him and the cold stone wall. Holmes pressed his soft, thin lips to mine and I sighed, relaxing into the comfort and passion of it immediately.

‘We will depart for London at first light in the morning,’ Holmes said, laced on a husky breath. ‘Let us enjoy some much deserved time to ourselves first, hm?’

He had that mischievous, plotting sparkle in his eye, and I, suddenly rendered incapable of speech, nodded dutifully. He chuckled darkly, as ever finding my ease in these encounters both endearing and amusing.

Closing in on me so that his lips were close to my ear and I couldn’t see his face, he continued, ‘You’ll be home with Mary tomorrow and no doubt she will require your whole affections. Allow me to be the object of them for just one more evening?’

Holmes would never admit to feelings of jealousy, while I could sense them a mile off. One area, perhaps, that I was quicker and more knowledgeable than he, having spent time with my fair share of jealous women. As such, I also knew precisely how to ease those feelings in my lovers, and employed that tactic easily, as what I was about to say to him was a whole truth.

My fingers grasped at his ulster to pull him before me. I then looked Holmes directly in the eye and whispered, earnestly, ‘Always, Holmes, not just tonight.’

His thin lips crashed back onto mine and he hummed delightedly. I could sense his euphoria in the way he moved against me, similar to when he leaped into action at the height of a breakthrough. Simply put, he needed me to be entirely his, and, for all intents and purposes, when we were together, I was. Mary knew this as much as I.

The kiss broke abruptly as Holmes began to shed his outermost layers, and following suit, I removed my own, although we didn’t manage to strip ourselves entirely before we were brought back together by sheer need, collapsing in a dishevelled heap together on the bed. I admit, I’d longed for one full night’s sound sleep here before waking for the journey back to London, to recover from hours of exertion and excitement, but this ending to our time away was too delicious to pass up.

‘I must say,’ Holmes interjected breathlessly against my lips as I caressed his sinewy frame, ‘this was a particularly thrilling investigation. Your willingness to play along, to undertake unethical practices in the name of my work… it was- ah!’

My hand wandered and I began to palm his manhood, soft and slow, the way I knew he liked it. I often wondered if he required such tenderness to counterbalance the rather more rough and fast pace of his mind.

‘You must know by now’ I spoke resolutely, ‘I’d walk over hot coals for you, Holmes; it’s you. It’s always you.’

He sighed so prettily at the sentiment I found myself rather lightheaded, my own root twitching in the confines of my breeches.

‘All those pretty young women you’ve relished in the company of the past few days,’ he panted as I unfastened his trousers and my own, ‘yet, you find yourself here with me again.’

‘Every time,’ I confirmed, unwavering. ‘You’re not just a brush. In your own words, I am your Watson, and you, my Holmes.’ Flirtations and frivolity with pretty girls who thought me handsome or interesting was one thing, but being the focus of Sherlock Holmes’s far-and-few-between affections was another feeling entirely, one which I was incredibly privileged to be the sole recipient of.

My fingers had made their way inside his inexpressibles by now, and Holmes lost his breath when I took his length and my own in hand and stroked us both simultaneously, keeping the steady pace I’d set previously.

‘Similarly,’ I added, unable to hold back a groan at the sensation of our combined seed lubricating my efforts, ‘I was rather taken with your enthusiasm pertaining to the perfect murder weapon. Hearing you talk like that… it stirred something in me-’

‘Your mind is as dark as mine can be,’ said Holmes, one corner of his mouth curling upward.

At that moment I kissed him again, losing myself completely in the intense emotion I harboured for him. It was one thing to know he found me useful, that he appreciated my company even in those times I was simply present while he fell into a deep, depressive silence. It was quite another to know the darkest annals of my mind were not just a burden to me, but a means of interest and excitement for him.

At this revelation, butterflies burst into life deep in my belly. Impassioned, I slipped my tongue along Holme’s bottom lip and he granted me entry instantaneously, allowing me to lead the languid dance of our tongues.

Holmes’ grip on my upper arms had become painful in the most pleasurable way, and while I was nearing my own release, I knew he was closer; another area in which I was well versed and he lacked was pleasure, and he was always pleased to allow me to take the lead here.

On pulling back for breath, I flustered at the sight of him; hair in disarray, falling in long strands over his forehead, cheeks flushed the most perfect shade of crimson, sharp eyes clouding with overwhelming bliss. He was always pleasing to the eye, those aquiline features, perfectly coiffed widows peak, all cheekbones and piercing gaze. But like this, mind switched off ever so briefly, he was soft. A side to him which only I would see. That knowledge alone was enough to bring me to my climax.

The bed rocked and groaned beneath us as Holme’s hips began to writhe in time with my rhythm. I could feel him throbbing, ready to come, and just then, as I predicted, his head snapped back against the pillows.

‘Watson!’ he cried, chest heaving, ‘Watson-’ quieter now, and he came, splattering a thick helping of blow up over his belly and onto his undershirt. A portion trickled down over my hand and through the gaps in addition, hot and sticky against my own pulsating shaft. As I considered how beautiful he looked in the afterglow of his release, my own came crashing relentlessly through my body, and with a shout I followed him into ecstasy, unable to tear my gaze away from his gratified features.

When I came to a moment later, Holmes had recovered somewhat and was smiling up at me. I smiled back and he began to laugh, giddily and heartily with the aftereffects of his intense pleasure. I followed, collapsing on the bed beside him to catch my breath as I chuckled.

We laid together in blissful silence and a tender embrace for the remainder of the evening – only after I cleaned myself and then him up, of course. Safe and warm in one another’s arms, our eyes, although heavy, were content to simply gaze at the other, fingertips gently tracing features and pushing through mussed hair, fingers interlocking, everything calm and quiet until sleep finally caught up with me. I’m not sure if Holmes slept at all, but he stayed by my side all night, holding me close as though he might float away without me to ground him.  =Somewhere along the way, the embers in the fireplace died and the eventual morning brought about our return to London.