Ernst Florens Friedrich Chladni was a German physicist and musician. His most important work, for which he is sometimes labeled the father of acoustics, included research on vibrating plates and the calculation of the speed of sound for different gases.He also undertook pioneering work in the study of meteorites and is regarded by some as the father of meteoritics.
la mode sapphique is a historical fashion blog dedicated to the fine art of “seeing lesbianism everywhere”. each image posted on la mode sapphique will be a vintage or antique womens’ fashion illustration, from a plate, pattern, or magazine. they will be captioned with creative writing and/or translations, when deemed necessary.
this blog began back in 2010 as sapphicfashion, but was abandoned due to lack of interest.
for more info, please check out the about page or shoot us an ask!
a/n: I’m honestly so nervous because it’s been literally millennia since I last posted something like this…. I hope you guys like it ;) this is heavily based off snapchat…. and…. I’m sorry if it’s too messy jfc I had to stop multiple times
Could you pretty please do some smut? Maybe in which harry sees on snapchat that Y/N basically ate an entire bag of frozen pineapple in one sitting and decided he needed to take advantage of how sweet she'd taste after
I legit squeal when I see a request, thank you so much for this.
And honestly, you guys come up with such diverse and distinct idea, and Im all here like: Could I have ever thought of that? haha
Here you go, dearie. Hope you like it!
#14: Tastes Like Mine**
It’s inevitable to stop Harry once he’s made up his mind. No
matter how much you argue, how much you cry or whine, he stands numb to all the
air like an iron pole.
So when today he had decided that he’s having a ‘boys’ day
out’ with his friends, Y/N’s utter pleas and frowns could not at all change his
They stand side by side at the dresser; Harry looking at
himself in the mirror, Y/N looking at him. The intensity of her piercing eyes
finally had Harry turning to her with a questioning look.
“What?” He belts his watch on his wrist.
“You seriously aren’t doing this to me, are you?”
“What?” He drawls, offended. “I’m just gonna go chillin’ and
killin’ the summer. What’s troubling you?”
“I wanted us today!” Y/N whines, slapping her hands against
Harry grins. “You get enough, let the others taste some.”
Winking, he leans to her face.
“What?!” Y/N yells, baffled. “You-“ She’s slapped the side
of his arm a multiple times before he grabs her wrist, pulling her towards him
and spinning on his feet to bring her against the dresser. Holding her wrists
down against the wood, he leans to her lips, puckering to give her a sweet
“What if I tell you I want you?” Y/N says in a low tone.
“What if I’m feeling extremely needy today, I allow you to tie me up,
and..you’re liking that ass slapping thing lately, aren’t you? C’mon do it.”
She wraps her fingers around his wrists from under his hold, and tries to shift
them over her.
Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “What’s gotten into you,
huh?” He grabs her behind as she urges, tugging her to his chest. “C’mon, let
me give it to you quick.”
“No.” Y/N pauses, pushing at his chest as he locates her to
the bed. “I want you all day, and then at night again.”
Harry sighs, kissing her lips. “Y/N, don’t do this. I have
to go..” He says, sounding low.
Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she kisses him to her
greed, lapping lips over one another, digging her nose on the inside of his
cheeks, brushing his jaw with the pad of her thumb while her other hand pulls
his hip to her. Harry pauses into the kiss, opening his eyes as he feels her
hand hover above the front of his jeans. He hurriedly tugs her away, wrapping
them behind her, and finally planting another peck, he pulls away from her.
“I’m comin’ for you tonight, baby. Love ya.” And, he’s out
of the door.
Harry’s sitting in Michael’s office, and the rest of the
boys and Michael sit at the same table in a circle. After going about seeing
places and visiting his friend’s latest plot where he’s constructing, all the
guys relaxed under the air conditioner of the office after the sunny day with
beer bottles before them.
They’re mingling together with playful talks, cussing about
freely and loud. Harry joins in at times, adding words here and there, and all
have a good time. It’s four, and their lunch arrives. They sitting in the same
pattern, poking at their plates and continuing their left conversation.
Harry pulls out his phone, amidst, scrolling through his
Insta feed before clicking on the Snapchat icon. He scrolls through any texts
if there is, then switches to looking at the stories, Y/N’s icon bubbling at
Looking around, he bites his lower lip in anticipation,
clicking on the icon, and there she’s posted a picture of her in bed, hair all
messy atop and expressions somber. It’s a modest pic, but of course her face
has something bothering Harry. He bites down on his lips harder.
He waits till the story automatically is switched to the
other, staring at her face for long enough to feel a thickening pressure build
in his gut. The second story of hers comes up, and it’s of her sitting on the
couch with a bowl full of pineapple slices on her lap, captioning: I’m a freak when it comes to eating.
The last one shows up: Anywayy..pineapple
Harry’s cheeks hollow; he’s suppressing a smirk build up on
his face as he returns back to her stories, clicking on the one with the
pineapples and sending it to her saying : I’d
like some taste too.
He rests his phone back on the table, slowly biting down on
his meal, when his phone dings.
Come and get it.
“Guys, are we wrapping it up then?”
Harry twists the key into the lock, swinging the door open.
He does a quick search in the house, finding Y/N seated at the entertainment
room, tuning into some television, her back to him. Quirking his lips up, he
takes his boots off at the door, taking slow steps to her.
“Been a good girl, I see.” He says, reaching and hitting his
legs on the back rest of the long couch, slowly bending down to her ear and
kissing the shell. His hands place on her shoulders, sliding down slowly to her
chest. “Had your pineapples right, huh?”
“Not for you.” Y/N flats out, hiding the quivering tone she
gets from his touch.
“Ah, I see.” His hands slide further, hovering above her
supple breasts for a moment before stopping mid air, and he stands to his
height. He walks round to sit on the couch, pulling at her feet sprawled, onto
He pulls her some more; she slides to him till her legs
dangle off his lap and her body is pressed close to his side. His lips pull her
close, kissing at hers. They slowly glaze down her face, onto her neck.
“Harry, we can’t”
He groans in reply, biting down on her sweet spot.
“Y/N! Where do you keep the butter?” Comes a feminine voice
from outside, and Harry’s heads shots up to give Y/N a confused look.
“I’m coming, Alexa!” She smirks, victoriously, untangling
herself from his hold and walks away, leaving behind a stunned Harry on the
Y/N and Alexa walk back to the room few moments later, Alexa
smiling at Harry, who’s found his place in the single chair. Dropping the
popcorn bowl on the table, Alexa shares a quick hug with Harry, then settles on
the long couch with Y/N.
“When’d you come here?” Harry asks, tone monotonous.
“Been quite hours, I guess. It’s our second bowl of
popcorn.” Alexa smiles back at Y/N. Harry nods, shifting his eyes on the
The girls sit watching the movie Harry despises and he’s
forced to leave the room, but of course he has a death glare pointed in Y/N’s
direction as he passes by.
Alexa leaves after quite a long time; she’s extremely
talkative, and even after the movie got over two hours before, she stayed back
to give her points on the movie and go about gossiping for a good hour.
Y/N creeps into the room, peeping in to see Harry sprawled
on his side of the bed, eyes closed, breathing calm.
“Baby’s asleep?” She murmurs, climbing onto their bed and
nearing his back. She runs a hand through the length of his spine, leaning down
to kiss the base of his neck and behind his shoulders.
A vicious laugh goes by, and suddenly Harry turns around,
jumping over her and pinning her down on the mattress with his body atop.
“Fuck you!” He says to her face, pressing himself down on
“What? I was just having a good time.” She says in a casual
tone, and that has Harry doubling over his frustration.
“I know you did it on purpose!” He rasps, tugging her wrists
over her head. His face and attempt at being all dominant has Y/N laughing
“Harry, let me go.” She chuckles, shaking her head at him.
His eyes narrow. “You wanted to be tied up, didn’t you?
Let’s do it.”
Her eyes widen. Harry lets go of her held arms, sits down on
her hips as he extends to the side table to bring in a hand a tie.
Y/N hides her hands, pulling them behind her as she squeals.
“No, you bugger! Don’t!”
“Ah, I’ve had enough of it. Show me your hands!” He demands.
When she doesn’t comply, he holds the tie in between his teeth, and tugs at her
forearms, bringing her wrists before him and hastily tying them up. Through
with this, he gives her a grin.
“Hm, now, now.” He muses. “Look at you.”
“Harry.” She whimpers. “C’mon, open this up. I shouldn’t be
the one getting punished, you should be!”
“This’s not a punishment. You wanted it, so I’m giving it to
you.” He shrugs his shoulders. He presses on her between her thighs, earning a
“I need more, give me that.” Y/N speaks through her
“Like what?” Harry trails down from her hip, slowing bucking
away and sitting between her spread legs, on the bed. “Hm? Tell me?” He trails
his both hands on her each leg, staring from her ankle to her knee. With a
push, he urges her knees up in the air, legs folded.
“You wanted a taste? Touch it, taste it.” Y/N urges, now in
Harry snickers, taking his lower lip between his fingers as
he eyes her cloth covered center. “D’ya want it?”
Y/N pinches her eyes. He’s totally testing her patience.
“Fuck, yes, yes, I want it. I want you
in between my legs, baby. Do it.” She moans.
“Fuck, that’s it.”
Harry leans forward, clutching the back of her calves with
his hands as his lips kiss on her inner thighs. He trails close to her center,
sucking on her supple, smooth skin, bumping his nose on her covered clit.
Hearing her gasp, and then shoot her hands down into his hair, Harry loses
control, hurriedly pulling down her panties and throwing them off behind him.
He ducks low, pressing his lips flat on her skin, bringing
his fingers to separate her folds. His tongue reaches out to her wetness; Y/N
legs shivering from the contact. Harry winds his arms around her thighs,
holding them in place as starts his tongue to move over her sweet juices.
She’s dripping, and he, gratified, takes them all, sucking
on her core for more.
“So sweet, my baby.” He moans, her fingers clutching harder
on his hair. “Gimme some more, c’mon.”
Harry sucks over the sensitive skin, puckering his lips and
making sounds of his lips smacking against her, that has her lolling and head
spinning, gut tightening and pressure building inside her.
“Harry.” She groans through her hoarse voice, and Harry
knows she’s close. So he goes faster, torturous, relentless on her, not sparing
another moment for her feel.
With a last tight tug at his roots, she’s coming undone,
slipping all for him. He brings his finger against her, collecting her wetness
in one. Climbing on top of her, he brings it to her lips. Y/N opens up, sucking
his middle finger in her mouth, and having an unintentional moan slip from her
throat. He pulls out of her mouth, replacing his lips on top as he rolls his
tongue in her mouth, letting her suck at the muscle.
“Taste so good, my sweet baby.” Harry coos, kissing her on
the mouth again.
Y/N smiles, timid, biting on her lip as their eyes meet.
“Describe in three words how I taste.” She counters him,
tied hands moving down between them, palming him through his boxer briefs.
Harry lets out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering at her
touch. He gulps, looking back at her. “You taste- taste like revival,
essential.” He kisses her mouth, eyes glassy. “Tastes like mine.”
Some headcannons about Beatrice Baudelaire Jr (Kit Snicket’s daughter):
She is just barely ten years old. (Only just young enough to order from the children’s menu, only just old enough to pass in the streets unobserved.)
Her specialist subject is oceanography. (Her commonplace book is full of facts about marine life and ecosystems, ocean circulation patterns, plate tectonics, the geology of the seafloor, the chemical properties of seawater.)
She lost the three Baudelaire siblings at sea. (A rough voyage, a storm, a monster of the deep, a wreckage in the shape of a question mark.)
She believes they are still alive, knows they are alive. (Any other option is unthinkable.)
But she has searched the waves of the sea and the hills of the land and the underground tunnels in the city and still she cannot find them. (She is running out of places to look.)
She tries not to ask herself the question – if they are still alive, why aren’t they looking for me too? (It’s a dangerous question and the world is dangerous enough already.)
Speaking of dangerous, her father was a dangerous Count and a very bad actor. (But she doesn’t know it yet, may never know it. And there may only be one person left alive who does know it.)
She is on her own but she is not entirely alone. (It’s the feeling she gets that she’s being watched.)
There are rumors of an old and shady organisation with secrets and schisms and fire scattered throughout its past. (And, unknowingly, she is already as helplessly entangled within it as a dolphin trapped in a fisherman’s net.)
There is a man with connections to this organisation, who may or may not be dead, and she has learned through coded messages sent via sea turtle that this man could help lead her to the Baudelaires, who may or may not be dead. (Her future may hinge on the acceptance of an invitation to a root beer float.)
Her life so far has been a lesson in loss; learning to love people she never met, learning to let go of the people she loves, and learning to live with the ache they always leave behind. (Her family tree is made up of gravestones.)
And she is still learning to live in the silence that follows. (’The world is quiet here’ - she found that written on a scrap of paper hidden in between some faded theatre programs in an abandoned office and she thinks it would make a good slogan for a noble organisation dedicated to keeping the world quiet and safe. She thinks perhaps someone should set up such an organisation.)
Warsmith Damakairon, the Iron Castellan, Tyrant of the Aitnaîan Keep. A true-blooded Olympian son of Perturabo, Damakairon has fought for his father’s cause for ten thousand years, incorrigible and unwavering. Clad in tactical dreadnought warplate wrought by long-dead Olympian armour-smiths, Damakairon is no idle pessimist or paranoid warlord, a veteran of the Great Crusade and thus privy to Perturabo’s true vision for the Imperium. The Corpse-Emperor’s domain is one of decay and oppression, and the Tyrant of Aitnaîos seeks to cast down their works to rebuild them in his father’s image - practicality, functionality, and aesthetic beauty intertwined, equal parts magnificent and impregnable. He will build a new Imperium of wonders - he just has to kill the old one first…
Warsmith Damakairon may not be a ‘true’ Iron Warrior in his beliefs, but his armaments and tactics are kin to any on Medrengard.
- Siegebreaker Maul: An uncomplicated name for an uncomplicated weapon, the Siegebreaker Maul is designed to sunder man and machine in equal measure. Wreathed in sigils of beleaguering and castigation, neither bastion nor bunker is safe from its crushing blows.
- Combi-melta: .M30 Arethusa pattern, fitted directly to the user’s armour. Mounted on a rotating jig, the weapon is designed to follow the gaze of its wielder, and frees up the user’s hands for other weapons - say, for example, a two-handed siege maul…
- Terminator Armour: .M30 Indomitus-Olympia pattern tactical dreadnought plate. Aitnaîos sits in realspace, outside of the corrupting influence of the Empyrean - thus, this armour has changed little since its forging.
Prompt: After being brutally murdered at the young age of twenty- one and stuck on Earth, Harry has been searching to find a way to heaven for almost a hundred years. One day, a family and their autistic, seventeen year old, daughter, Heaven, moves into his home. Maybe this was the Heaven he was searching for all along.
DO NOT STEAL MY IDEAS! Enjoy! x
Heaven sighs heavily, biting her nails lightly, as she enters the musty smelling, older, abandoned home that her parents had suddenly decided one day to move into on a whim. The larger scale home still held beauty after so many years and was somehow still in almost pristine condition, sitting in the middle of the woods on the far side of their little town.
One morning, Heaven’s parents went for a jog and stumbled upon the old mansion, immediately falling in love with it. Becoming practically obsessed, they found a realtor and bought the house in just a few days, not even speaking a word to Heaven until they burst into her room and told her to pack.
Heaven panicked, of course, as she hated change. When she was young, she was diagnosed with autism and her parents made sure she was always happy and comfortable. They lived in the same house, used the same tutors, drove the same car, and ate the same foods to insure that she didn’t have a tantrum. So this was a major change, but eventually, with much coaxing, they got her to pack and get in the car.
When they drove up the tree lined driveway and the Victorian era house came into view, Heaven immediately understood why her parents were so in love. It was absolutely breathtaking and something about it made her want to never leave. Maybe this change will be good.
“Heaven, don’t bite your nails, darling. Go choose your room!” Her mother calls as she places a box down in the kitchen, snapping Heaven out of her thoughts.
“Okay, mama! Okay… Okay, mama,” She clutches her small teddy bear that she’s had since she was a kid to her chest as she takes a step up the rickety stairs. The steps groan under the forgotten weight of someone walking up them as she makes her way up them slowly.
As she steps foot onto the second floor, she freezes as she hears quiet whispering coming from down the dark hallway. “Mama?” She calls quietly, clutching her teddy tighter as she takes a step towards the voices. The hairs on the back of her neck involuntarily stand up as she suddenly feels the intense feeling of being watched after she speaks.
As soon as she takes another step, the voice and the feelings halt and everything seems normal again. Hearing foot steps, Heaven looks down and sees her mother and father walking back outside to the moving truck. Turning towards the dark hallway again, Heaven’s eyebrows furrow.
“Not mama. That’s not mama,” she mumbles as she makes her way down the hall, not caring about it too much. She peers into each room, shaking her head each time she didn’t like them.
Coming to the end of the hall, Heaven begins to frown as she doesn’t find a bedroom she likes. Her eyes tear up in frustration as she lets out a tiny whimper.
As she gives up and begins to walk down the hall, the whispers begin again, louder than before. Heaven gasps, turning towards the voices and before her eyes, a door she hadn’t seen creaks open slowly.
Curiously growing in her, she wipes her tears and slowly walks towards the open door. Peeking into the room, she lets out a happy squeal as she sees the dark red walls, her favorite color. The bed was large, the bed spread a muted red from all the dust accumulated on it. In the corner, a small nook was made by the window so someone could sit and read. The ceilings were high and in the middle hung a giant chandelier that glittered and sparkled in the sunlight.
“Mine,” she states to herself mesmerized and in a trance as the whispers slowly die down.
“Yes,” a deep, raspy voice behind her croons as she feels a hand on the bottom of her spine. The touch was calming and warm, sending slight sparks up her spine as she didn’t flinch away like she normally did to touch.
“Yes,” she mimics as she walks in and the door slowly creaks shut behind her.
“So, I was doing some research,” Heaven’s mother starts as they quietly eat dinner in their new dining room. Heaven’s father hums in response as he gives the love of his life all his attention after he helps Heaven cut up some of her chicken and places her a small kiss on her forehead.
“It’s quite spooky actually. Apparently, the original owners were murdered here almost a hundred years ago,” she states fascinated as she takes a bite of her carrots and peas.
“Wow! That’s interesting. How sad. What happened? Do they know?” Her father speaks as Heaven pokes her chicken with her fork, in a daze as she stares fixated at the pattern on the plate.
“They say the killer snuck in in the middle
of the night and stabbed them in their beds. The son tried to find help after he had been stabbed but he only made it to the hallway where he, sadly, passed. That’s why you can see blood stains on the floorboards upstairs. They are buried in the somewhere in the woods out back, I think. There was Anne, the mom, Desmond, the dad, Gemma, the daughter, and the son was named-”
“Harry,” Heaven suddenly states, making her parents turn to her in shock.
“H-How’d you know that, sweetheart?” Her mom asks softly, her mind reeling in the scary possibilities on how her daughter, who has no way to get on the Internet, knew the name of the dead boy who once lived here.
“He wrote it. Wrote it on my bed,” Heaven states what she had found earlier. Carved on the dark wood on the bed’s headboard was a name. A little worn from the years but still visible, Harry was written in neat handwriting and, captivated, Heaven spent hours tracing the name with her fingertips.
“Oh,” her mom laughs it off lightly, relieved that their new house wasn’t haunted by its past residents. “We will get your bed up there soon, sweetheart. Sorry you have to sleep in that old thing,” she says, making Heaven frown.
“I like it, mama. I like Harry’s bed,” Heaven protests, wanting the old, soft bed that made her feel safe and calm to stay in her room.
“Heaven, a boy was killed there. I don’t want you sleeping in it,” her father says, making her eyes water.
“I want it!” She slams her fork down and just as she feels a full blown tantrum coming on, she hears the whispers.
She freezes as it feels like arms wrap around her from behind and a warm chest against her back, calming her instantly. “Don’t cry, sweet Heaven. It’s okay,” she hears the raspy, deep voice, that sounded like smooth honey, coo in her ear.
“Okay, Harry. Okay… Okay, Harry,” she mumbles as she picks up her fork and takes a bite of her chicken, completely relaxed as her parents stare at her wide eyed.
“Good girl,” she hears just as the feeling of the arms disappear and the whispers cease, but leave behind the feeling of warmth and calm.
“Heaven, w-who are you talking to?” Her mother asks, fear gripping at her heart once again. She had never seen Heaven calm down that quickly before.
“Harry say don’t cry so Heaven no cry,” Heaven mumbles as she finishes her food. “Bed time,” she states, standing and placing a kiss on her stunned parents cheeks. They were so in shock that they didn’t even protest as she make her way up the stairs to her new bedroom.
Harry smiles as he watches the beautiful, innocent girl twirl around in her bedroom as she dances with her teddy bear. He stands propped against the wall, transparent so she can’t see him just yet. He didn’t want to scare her, but with her reactions to him earlier he didn’t think she’d be too petrified.
When Harry first watched the family move in, he was livid. This was his house, his family’s house. He left and died here. How dare they just move in and take over his home of over a hundred years.
But, when he heard it, all his anger dissipated. “Heaven! Come inside!” He heard as a gorgeous girl walked though the door, lightly biting her fingernails with a dazed look in her eyes.
Heaven. Something he had been searching for for decades was right in front of him. On his tombstone, the words Find your way to Heaven were written, but Heaven found its way to him. This wasn’t what he expected but, to him, this was even better. His own personal Heaven.
He had studied her so much since she arrived he could now remember where each of her freckles were with his eyes closed. They dotted her rosy cheeks and nose like the stars in the night sky. Her hair was like spun gold with a slight reddish tint, shining in the light from the window, captivating him and making him feel like he was now one of the richest men. Her lips were like two, perfect, pink rose petals and he fought the urge to kiss them relentlessly. Her ocean green-blue eyes sparkled with innocence and were normally stuck in a daze as she focuses on something sparkly. Earlier, she had spent almost an hour just staring at the chandelier in the middle of the ceiling as he stared at her.
That’s when he figured something was…special about his Heaven. Listening in to her parents conversation, he quickly found out she had autism. He didn’t care. He actually fell more in adoration of the small, special girl with the gleam in her eyes.
Hearing a small shriek and a crash, Harry is knocked out of his thoughts. He panics as he sees Heaven on the floor with tears in her eyes as she clutches her ankle. Not caring any longer about transparency, he rushes over to her and appears right next to her.
His hand reaches out, laying on top of hers that clutched her ankle. She gasps lightly and the whole world seems to slow down as she turns her head and their eyes connect.
“Harry,” she whispers as he smiles gently, reaching out for her hair and tucking a strand behind her ear.
“Careful, sweetheart. Can’t have my Heaven getting hurt right after I find her.”
Hope you enjoyed! Please tell me if you want the part two!!! x -E