#fashion glossary

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last night i had a dream i was watching a nintendo direct and they announced 1) a unity asset store looking house of leaves video game adaptation and 2) another slightly underbaked style savvy spiritual successor

[ace-the-fashion-dreamer]

Black Friday Fashion Dreamer photo dump

[celebratingwomen]

Nicole Scherzinger for The Glossary Magazine, Winter 2023

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: The usually reserved and responsible Camille DeWaterson celebrates her sister's final moments as a free woman in the streets of New Orleans . After stumbling into a club that promised temptation and decadence, she’s drawn into the clutches of a true predator who wants more than a simple dance. Terry Richmond, a vampire with unimaginable power and connections, has used his club to draw in unsuspecting victims for decades. But when he gazes upon Camille DeWaterson, an obsession immediately begins. And he doesn’t want to just feed and fuck. He desires something much more sacred and permanent.

warnings: 18+, dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, intoxication, mentions of sexual acts, graphic violence, AAVE, light smut? (dry humping)

word count: 7,258

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Ambrosia: an aphrodisiac and euphoric substance that makes humans more open to the propositions of supernaturals

Camille's song: Drugs-UPSAHL | Terry's song: She-Tyler, The Creator

Pt. One

Camille

Camille DeWaterson was beginning to have doubts about letting loose for her sister’s bachelorette party. As she looked at the lacy outfit her sister demanded she wear, Camille inwardly groaned, thinking that nothing good would come from tonight. Just as Camille was about to step away from the full length mirror, her sister came behind her and looked at her through the mirror with big, drunken puppy dog eyes.

“Pleaseeee, CamCam,” Chloe DeWaterson slurred, snaking her arms around her sister’s waist. “Remember, you promised me.” Camille sighed. She did promise her sister that she would leave her responsible, goodie-two-shoes nature in Houston so she could fully enjoy the revelry of their seven days in New Orleans. For the first two days, she had been able to unwind during the spa trip, the wine tasting, and the afternoon tea. But as the girls’ night approached, her relaxed attitude began to fade.

As the eldest daughter of the DeWaterson family, Camille was raised with one clear expectation: perfection. Her father drilled into her the importance of a flawless social image, and to earn his approval, she shaped her life around his vision of what was best for her. As a top student at her prestigious boarding school in Virginia, Camille had secretly longed to attend the charter school back in her Georgia hometown. She enrolled at the University of Texas to be closer to the boy her father had chosen as her future husband, despite begging him for permission to attend Spelman. Camille dutifully attended social events alongside other women, all of them under pressure to climb the social ladder—though those gatherings often left her with little time for the friends who truly understood her. Since she could remember, Camille had been striving to uphold her Black American Princess image, a role she knew all too well but one that often left her feeling unfulfilled.

In contrast, her sister Chloe was constantly rebelling. She dropped out of Dartmouth to pursue fashion school in New York City, ran off to Los Angeles to live with her ex-boyfriend, and once stripped naked and leapt into a fountain at a charity event their mother had organized. Chloe embodied the essence of a free spirit, her laissez-faire attitude both something Camille admired and envied. Yet, despite her rebelliousness, Chloe still allowed their father to shape the most important aspects of her life—including her marriage. In an effort to refine her image, Colin DeWaterson Sr. orchestrated his daughter’s marriage to Simon Chazal, a longtime family friend. He argued it would offer Chloe the stability she needed, while also providing him the coveted connection to a wealthy Creole family—something he’d been angling for since moving the family to New Orleans when Camille was a sophomore in high school.

Although Chloe fussed for months about the arrangement, she eventually agreed once Simon voiced his true feelings for her. Chloe didn’t feel the same romantically, but she deeply cared for the man who was one of her closest childhood friends. She knew he would never hurt her, and he always supported her creative outlets. Besides, denying the union would put Chloe’s inheritance in jeopardy. And even though she was doing more than fine financially with her clothing line and YouTube channel, she had grown accustomed to a lifestyle that only a DeWaterson fortune could support.

So, she was getting married in two days to a man she didn’t love in the middle of her 20s. Although she had accepted her fate, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Chloe was determined to have a bachelorette party that she would never forget.

Full of decadence, empty of decorum.

And to make that happen, she made her good girl older sister promise to do everything she said. Which is why Camille was wearing a racy black catsuit that could double as a mosquito net.

“You look sooooo sexy, CamCam,” her sister continued, rubbing her cheek on Camille’s shoulder. Camille’s face grew hot as she stared at her reflection. She couldn’t deny that she looked like she had stepped out of a man’s fantasy. But how could she focus on the group’s wellbeing and make sure no one wandered off if she was constantly getting approached, which her outfit would no doubt cause. She looked around the room at the group of women who ranged in age from 24 to 27, carelessly pouring dark liquors down their throats and passing a perfectly rolled blunt between each other. As the 29 year-old, Camille felt compelled to be the protective, sober one for the night. The mom.

As if reading her mind, Chloe spun Camille around to face her. “Cam, I’m serious. You never get the chance to let go. Please just be tonight. We’re all grown. We’re not your responsibility.” Before Camille could protest, the rest of the bridal party chimed in with a variety of agreements, the loudest of which came from Camille’s best friend, Kali.

“Cammie baby, pleaseeeee throw that good girl shit out of the window. We love you for it, but it’s time for a break, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, passing her a shot of Don Julio. Camille took the small glass, feeling the weight of the expectant eyes watching her. Fuck it. When was the last time she was able to get drunk with her girls? In her picture perfect life, these opportunities didn’t come around often. So Camille took a deep breath and downed the shot, leading to an echo of cheers from the rest of the women in the room. Kali proceeded to pour chaser in her mouth as Chloe giggled in her ear. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a big, strong man you can ride. All. Night. Long.” Camille chuckled, playfully nudging her sister. She held up her left hand and shoved the heavy engagement ring in her sister’s face. “I’m pretty sure this’ll keep all the big, strong men away from me,” she fired back.

Chloe grinned, showing off an equally impressive engagement ring. “Well I guess I have to take this off because there’s no way I’m not getting any dick tonight.” Camille gasped while her sister just laughed, pulling her out of the room, the group making their way to their Uber Black.

Three hours later, Camille drunkenly stumbled through the streets with her friends, carefree and lost in the thrill of the night. After three daiquiris and four shots, she couldn't have cared less about anything beyond the present moment. Bouncing in and out of bars and clubs, she felt like she was on cloud nine, and there was no part of her that wanted to come down anytime soon.

“Oooooo, let’s go there next!” Chloe exclaimed, pointing to a building with traditional New Orleans architecture draped in Spanish moss. At first glance, the building itself looked unassuming. But the red lights pouring through the windows and entrances hinted that it was a club. And the line of people that snaked around the block hinted that it was a really popular club. One that they couldn’t possibly pass up. Chloe and her entourage headed towards the building. But the closer Camille got, the more something felt… off. An undeniable pull, a magnetic force drawing her toward the building. She didn’t mind it, not really; she was all for making a great night even better. But the strange sensation sent a shiver down her spine, heightening her senses and making her more alert than she’d been all evening. She tried to slow her steps, to pause for a moment to gather her thoughts, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward like she was being guided by some invisible hand, trailing behind her sister.

Three bouncers casually stood at the entrance, ignoring the pleas and bribes of the people at the front of the line. But their heads snapped towards them when Chloe approached.

“Excuse me,” Chloe started, turning on her signature innocent and coy act. “We don’t want to be unfair to everyone who’s been waiting, but do we have to stand in such a long line?” Chloe batted her lashes up at them, smoothing her hand over her white ‘Bride’ sash. The one closest to her leaned forward with a smirk, causing a soft gasp to ripple through the entire group.

He was beyond gorgeous. Deep dark skin, sparkling white teeth, a full beard, and expensive gold jewelry. Camille knew that her sister probably experienced love at first sight.

“A lady as pretty you should never have to wait for anything, and neither should your friends,” his Southern drawl rang through the air as he stared into Chloe’s soul. “But we got rules here, baby girl.”

Chloe visibly shuddered, stepping closer to the Adonis. “What do I– I-I mean, what do we have to do to get around these rules?” Chloe panted. The bouncer exchanged a look with the two others, who watched the group intensely… almost hungrily. His eyes shifted back to Chloe’s, glinting with something mischievous. “Tariq, you got any more of them special wristbands?” The bouncer on the far left pulled a set of wristbands from his pocket. They were such a bright red, they seemed to glow in the dark. He pulled a small bundle from his pocket and handed over seven. The lead bouncer looked back at all of them, his lips turning up to show off his perfect teeth. “Now I can get y’all in here right now with these wristbands, but y’all gotta understand that they come with a lot of responsibility. These are only for the ladies that can be the life of the party. Can y’all promise that?” The women nodded eagerly, but Camille’s nod carried some hesitation. The bouncer noticed, making a mental note that he would relay to his friends who were waiting inside.

“Anything for you, daddy,” Kali said, earning a sharp glare from Chloe. All three of the bouncers laughed at Kali's bold comment. “Well since that was such a convincing yes, all I need to see is some ID and y’all can go ahead. Be sure to put them wristbands on though… wouldn’t want to miss out on free drinks and plenty of company.”

The group squealed, practically throwing their driver’s licenses at the three men. They ignored the groans of protest from the people still waiting in line as they put on the red bands. Chloe excitedly moved towards the front door, but was stopped by a strong hand softly grabbing her arm. “One more thing,” the fine ass bouncer stated coolly.

“Yea, sure. Anything…” Chloe let out in a breathy tone. The man gave her a wicked smile. “Save me a dance, baby girl.” Chloe practically turned into a puddle. A shy, smiley puddle. “Yes, sir.” Chloe giggled softly, her gaze lingering on his. That was Camille’s cue to separate the two. She could see it in her sister’s eyes. She was five seconds away from letting that man bend her over in front of everyone. And she just couldn’t let something that scandalous happen on her watch.

The group descended down a wide, dimly lit staircase, its shadowy corners tightening around Camille’s nerves. But as they stepped into the heart of the club, her breath caught in her throat. The scene that unfolded before her was nothing short of electrifying. Red lights bathed the room in a seductive glow, casting sharp contrasts against the sleek black couches and the sea of gyrating bodies that seemed to go on for forever. Couples grinded against each other, lost in the pulse of the music, while women danced on every available surface, adding to the wild, carefree atmosphere. Bottle girls weaved through the crowd, effortlessly balancing trays of shots, bottles, and sparklers, contributing to the chaotic glamour of it all. The music throbbed through the air and vibrated through the walls and floor. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Camille knew she'd have to shout just to make herself heard. “Damn, we should’ve started here first,” Kali yelled, doing a 360 to get a full view of the place. Camille nodded, awe slowly replacing her unease.

Suddenly, a stunning bottle girl, who seemed to appear out of thin air, stood in front of the group with a tray full of shots. “Ladies, welcome to Crimson, and thank you for being our very special guests,” she spoke, momentarily glancing at their wristbands. “Can I interest you all in free ambrosia shots?” Something was off about her smile. It seemed too… eager. The alarm bells returned for Camille. Just as she was about to politely decline and guide the group to a more tame section of the club, Kali reached out and grabbed one. She downed it before Camille could object.

“Damn, this is good as fuck! You can’t even taste anything, it’s like juice!” She gave the rest of the bridal party an encouraging smile, before turning her attention back to the smirking bottle girl. “Can I get, like, two more of those?” She asked, already reaching for the tray again. The bottle girl smiled brightly. “Absolutely! And feel free to put any empty glasses back on the tray.”

Camille noticed the way she emphasized empty as the rest of the women reached for their own shot. Chloe threw her head back in a swift motion, a shocked look passing across her face. “There’s no way there’s alcohol in these,” she giggled, placing the empty shot glass on the tray and picking up another one. “Here, Camille, try one!”

Camille almost protested, her instincts screaming to back away. The vibe of the place had her on edge, and she didn’t trust the girl handing out free shots, her smile too wide, too mischievous. But then she remembered her promise to Chloe—and she couldn’t let her down. Camille took the shot from Chloe’s hand and threw it back, hoping the act would be enough to satisfy the bottle girl and move them along. But as the liquid burned its way down, something unexpected happened. The sweet strawberry and honey taste lingered and an insatiable craving for more swept over her. Without a second thought, she grabbed the last shot on the tray and sipped it greedily, the flavors dancing on her tongue. Within moments, a wave of euphoria crashed over her, sweeping away any remaining caution. Like a freight train, the carefree attitude she'd left behind the moment she stepped into Crimson hit her again—but this time, it wasn’t just cloud nine. Instead, she soared to cloud one hundred. Whatever she just drank was far beyond ordinary alcohol. But in that instant, Camille couldn’t have cared less. The rush, the high, it was too intoxicating to question. She was going to chase it, as far and as fast as it would take her.

The cackling of her friends began to fade as a new song caught her attention. It was sultry and fast-paced, and it beckoned her to the dance floor. Her legs carried her to the center of the club, directly under its beaming red lights, giving the crowds in the balcony levels a perfect view of her. And she let herself get carried away by the music. She didn’t know how long she danced for. She just knew that her waist, her ass, and her legs moved to everything that poured out of the speakers. She felt like a butterfly flying freely, untethered. Until two large hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into a broad, warm chest and a thick, long, twitching bulge.

Terry

Terry spotted her as soon as she entered his establishment, his dick immediately standing at attention. A lace-clad goddess who decided to grace the venue with her presence. Although she was leading a group of gorgeous women, her beauty outshone them all—no contest. Not even the shorter one who shared her skin tone and some of her features that she pulled along with her. Sisters, Terry concluded. Although the smaller one, clearly a bride-to-be, was meant to be the star—draped in a form-fitting white dress, crowned with a glittering tiara and veil, Terry’s eyes could only focus on the woman guiding her through the sea of people. He leaned forward in his seat on the fourth-level balcony, subtly tapping the two women on his lap to signal for them to move. They pouted and muttered as they reluctantly stood, but Terry’s attention remained fixed, unaware of their protests. His focus was entirely on the woman below, and he couldn’t look away.

“Boss, we got a few more Indulgences coming in right now. The best group of the night. But the one in the lace might be a problem. I think she can kinda see through The Veil.”

Terry didn’t bother to respond. There was always one human who felt a little more wary when they approached Crimson, the city’s most exclusive club and a hedonistic sanctuary for the wealthiest vampires in the country. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to be drawn to the club’s magnetic pull, an irresistible force that lured them in without them even knowing why. Most would fall victim to the allure, standing in outrageously long lines for the mere chance to step inside. But then there were the others—those with a natural wariness, a sharp intuition that hinted at the dark magic just beneath the surface. They could sense something off, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on, but it was enough to make them hesitate.

In those rare cases, Terry knew exactly what to do. If they were enticing enough for his clients, he made sure they got through the door and stayed for as long as he needed them to. After getting the heads-up from Jabari, Terry had already made his move. Amber, one of his most trusted bottle girls who frequently quenched his thirsts, was dispatched with a tray of ambrosia shots, ready to meet the group of women and pull them deeper into the club’s intoxicating web. A simple push, a little encouragement.

Terry observed as the group warily watched Amber. The first one to accept her offer was a thick, lighter woman with a bob who seemed to be full of personality. One by one, they consumed the golden liquid and he watched them all fall victim to the euphoric feeling that ambrosia brings about. The beauty who caught his eye was the last one to drink after some convincing from the soon-to-be bride. She gave her a weak smile and tossed it back, momentarily exposing her slender neck. Time seemed to slow as she gulped down the liquid, her tongue absentmindedly licking the remainder from her perfectly glossed lips. Terry groaned, imagining those same glossed lips wrapped around his length, leaving stains around his dick as she gagged around him. Fat tears spilling from her big, pretty eyes as he used a fistful of her hair to keep her in place and fuck her throat.

As his latest fixation reached for another shot, this time with enthusiasm, he mentally expressed satisfaction in Jabari’s picks for the night. The whole group exceeded the standards of what an Indulgence should be. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few of his clients watching the group, their bright red wristbands giving them the greenlight to approach them. As the best supernatural sanctuary in the country, Terry had a reputation he had to maintain. And that included keeping a steady stream of the best Indulgences walking through the doors of Crimson.

The practice of supplying Indulgences had evolved quite a bit since Terry turned hundreds of years ago. In the old days, Indulgences, the breathtaking humans that were deemed desirable enough to feed from and fuck, were a rarity. The lack of modern technology and medical care led to most humans being sickly and in a constant state of survival. Therefore, Indulgences were limited, and most were often fought over or accidentally killed. But as the standard of living increased, they became more plentiful. Vampires noticed and began to invest heavily in the wellbeing of humans. Better farming techniques, improved access to education, innovations in science and technology. All of these things were investments vampires were willing to make so their precious humans would become better off. Now, it’s gotten to the point that Indulgences could be found anywhere. But they couldn’t be approached anywhere. Humans, especially women, were particularly cautious. They often denied the company of vampires in ordinary settings, and their denials were respected under supernatural law. So vampires like Terry had to create spaces that connected Indulgences with vampires, lowered their inhibitions, and motivated them to freely offer their veins, their bodies, and their hearts.

Crimson had been known for the best Indulgences since the 1940s and tonight, Jabari ensured that the reputation continued. Terry made a mental note to reward Jabari for his good judgment. His eyes continued to follow the pretty little thing as she made her way to the dance floor, her barriers lowering with every step she took. Once she got to the center of the club, Terry knew that all supernatural eyes were on her, so he spoke telepathically.

Mine.

One word was all it took, and instantly, everyone knew she was off-limits. Terry was more than just a club co-owner. He was a king in his own right, ruling an empire of power, wealth, and influence that stretched far beyond Crimson’s doors. Decades older than any vampire in the room, his presence commanded a respect that no one dared to question. He was one of the first to utilize The Veil, the arcane system of magic that allowed supernaturals to bend the mortal world to their will. Over the course of his long life, he had slaughtered countless creatures—vampires, goblins, lycans—all without a flicker of hesitation. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and only a fool would dare to challenge him.

So, as his clients swarmed the other women eagerly, Terry’s word hung in the air like an impenetrable shield. She remained untouched and unbothered, and no one would dare lay a finger on her.

As the mystery woman swayed seductively to the beat, Terry began his descent to the ground level of Crimson. Humans and supernaturals alike scurried out of his way as he stalked his unsuspecting prey. Growing closer to her, he watched as she threw her arms above her head, flaunting her red wristband. He smirked, knowing she had no idea what was in store for her. He stopped behind her, taking the time to appreciate her body and inhale her scent. Her Coke bottle shape was barely covered by the black lace outfit that showed off her black thong. Intoxicating notes of vanilla, jasmine, and lavender fluttered around her, making his mouth water.

Terry gripped her waist firmly, tugging her back into his chest and her ass into his hard on, causing her to gasp softly. She paused her sexy little whining to look at Terry, craning her neck to get a good view of his 6’3 frame. He smirked as her jaw dropped as she examined his face. Still in a euphoric haze, her eyes began to swirl with lust, awe, and need. Terry grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her even tighter. She whimpered lightly, rubbing her ass against his print, causing a deep rumbling in his chest. He leaned down, placing his mouth next to her ear. “What’d you stop for, princess? You were giving me such a nice show,” he purred, licking the shell of her ear. A moan passed her pretty ass lips and her head lolled to the side, giving Terry full access to her neck. He chuckled, watching the light thump of her jugular under her skin.

“Come on, baby girl,” he groaned, tracing the major vein with his tongue. “I came all the way downstairs to dance with you, don’t stop now.” She giggled sweetly, looking back at him with a naughty glint in her eye. Then, she began to work her magic. Bending over and placing her hands on her thighs, she expertly rolled her hips to the music, grinding her plump ass further into his dick. Terry bit his lip at the sight, matching her sensual movements, the world disappearing around them. To Terry, it was only him and her left in existence. Twisting, grinding, and rolling against each other. As the song came to an end, she rose to lean back against him, peering at him over her shoulder. Terry decided that he let her have enough fun taking the lead. He had to show her he was a man of control. He spun her around to face him, pulling her dangerously close to him.

She gulped as he pressed the entirety of his covered length against her torso. Gripping her ass, he captured her mouth in a dominating kiss.

Camille

Camille’s breath hitched as the unreal stranger placed a heated kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. If she were sober, she wouldn’t believe that she was making out with a random man whose name she didn’t even know. Especially a random man that looked like him. His broad, muscular frame loomed over her effortlessly, even with the four-inch heels adding height to her 5'7" stature. Dressed in sleek black slacks and a casual sweater, his ensemble was effortlessly cool, paired with two gold chains that gave him a smooth, 90s vibe. The combination of his honey-brown skin and understated wealth gave him an undeniable magnetism. The sweet, woody scent of his cologne washed over her senses, an intoxicating blend that mirrored the raw masculinity oozing from him. His dark hair was pulled back into neat cornrows, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the meticulously groomed facial hair that framed it. His full, luscious lips curled into a smile—slow, deliberate, and full of promise. And then there were his eyes. Those eyes. They were the kind that could pull you deeper under his spell with every glance. They promised nothing but a night fulfilling her most carnal desires.

A man this handsome could only be the devil.

His hands moved from her ass to her thighs as he effortlessly picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss never breaking. His tongue mercilessly sucked on hers, making her breathless and delirious. Camille tried her best to keep up with the man but he was insatiable. His lips skillfully moved over hers, making her eyes droop and heat pool in her most intimate areas. There was nothing she could do but submit to him and his passion. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lead the head-spinning exchange, which pulled the most lewd sounds from the back of her throat. He shifted her slightly in his arms, making his dick rub directly against her throbbing clit. “Fuck,” she yelped, throwing her head back at the burst of pleasure the movement gave her. The stranger didn’t stop his onslaught of kisses, his mouth nipping and sucking at her jaw, her neck, and her collarbone, continuing to grind his pelvis into hers. Camille sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a delicious tension build in her pussy. The man’s hands gripped further into her flesh and he chuckled in her ear. “If you keep making those pretty little sounds, I’m gonna make you nut on this dick all fucking night,” he growled before he shoved his tongue back into her mouth. His raunchy promise and dominating tongue sent Camille toppling over the edge. With a pathetic, needy moan into his mouth, she shuddered in his arms, a blinding orgasm rippling through her body.

He pulled away from her, watching as she convulsed in his arms. His eyes, which seemed to shift between steel blue and hazel green, stared directly into her soul, making another pitiful moan pass through her lips. As she slowly descended from her high, their gazes locked, their breath heavy and unsteady. In that moment, something passed between them. Something unspoken, something more profound than lust or two horny bodies grinding on a dancefloor. It was an electric undercurrent, too elusive to define, but too powerful to ignore. Was it tenderness? Devotion? Whatever it was, Camille felt it course through her like wildfire, a quiet intensity that seemed to vibrate in the air around them. And from the heat in his eyes, she knew he felt it too. That look, their connection—intense, undeniable—was all it took to jolt her back to reality.

This has gone way too far, Camille thought. She shook her head lightly, trying to break herself out of the trance she was under. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the gorgeous man she was clinging to. His eyebrows furrowed, his grip tightening as she attempted to get out of his hold.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” His deep, rich voice asked her sincerely and she blinked slowly as her pussy throbbed, begging to be stuffed by the hard on that was still pressed into her crotch. Fuck, this was so wrong. She was a taken woman. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled down at him shyly. “It’s just that… I-I shouldn’t have done this and I don’t want it to go too far.” He laughed.

“We’re grown, baby girl. What happens beyond this stays between us.” He stated, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her jaw, making her squirm against his bulge.

“That’s the thing,” she sighed, raising her left hand to display her ring. “An engaged woman shouldn’t have even let it get to this point.” The stranger’s hypnotizing eyes moved from hers to the band around her left ring finger, which he stared at for a second. Disappointment, and another feeling that she couldn’t place, flickered across his expression. Then his eyes shifted back to hers and he nodded in understanding, gingerly placing her back on her feet. He kept a hand on her waist, his confident smile returning. “Thanks for the dance, Ms…” his voice trailed off expectantly. Camille opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly interrupted by her best friend’s yelling.

“Cam! Cam! Come on, we gotta go! Some weirdo tried to like, I don't know, eat Chloe!” Kali yelled frantically, tugging Camille. “What!? What are you talking about? Where is she?!” Camille ran behind Kali, completely abandoning her momentary lover. She and Kali ripped through the crowded dance floor and rushed to a set of stairs that led to the second story of the club. Chloe sat slumped against the banister, sobbing into her hands as the rest of the group and the bouncer from earlier tried to console her. “Chloe, baby are you okay?” Camille’s little sister shot up at the sound of her voice, throwing herself into her arms.

“Oh Cammie, it was awful,” she sobbed as Camille held her. “Some guy and I were dancing but he wanted me to do coke with him so I tried to get away from him. But then he started trying to fucking bite me and-and–” Chloe sobbed harder. Camille turned to the bouncer. “Where is he? Did he get away?” There’s no way the club would let him get away with something like that, right?

“No ma’am, we’ve got him in custody upstairs. He won’t be able to hurt anybody else.” He reassured Camille, but his eyes remained on Chloe.

“Cammie, I don’t want to stay here if he’s still here,” Chloe hiccuped, holding onto her sister tighter. Camille stroked her cheek, guilt consuming her. She should’ve stayed with her sister. She never should’ve wandered off! She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she wasn’t getting tongued down by a man she just met.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to stay here any longer,” she sighed, kissing her sister's forehead. The fun, tipsy, and carefree Camille was gone. The rigid and responsible Camille returned as she ordered the rest of the bridal party to make their way to the entrance.

“Is everything alright over here?” The smooth, deep voice made Camille shiver. She knew who it belonged to immediately, but she refused to face him, embarrassed of how she behaved a few moments ago. He must've followed her when she ran with Kali. She could feel the heat rolling off of him, letting her know that he stood dangerously close to her. But she couldn’t focus on the Casanova that made her cum from simply grinding and kissing. She needed to focus on her sister.

“A patron tried to fee– bite one of the ladies in this group, boss. I rushed to help her once I heard screams. We got him upstairs,” the bouncer replied hurriedly, his eyes trained on the man behind Camille. He grunted in response.

“Ladies, I apologize for this encounter. Crimson takes great pride in vetting its patrons and it's unacceptable that a character like this slipped past us. He will be taken care of,” her mystery man spoke with authority. Camille glanced at him in shock as she rocked her sister, who was now only sniffling. Did he own this place? Who really was the man she dry fucked danced with tonight?

He gazed back at her for a moment, but turned his attention back to Chloe’s knight in shining armor. “Jabari, please escort these ladies out and ensure that we get them the best transportation back to their accommodations.” Jabari nodded, helping them get their bearings. As Camille prepared to turn on her heel, soft, thick lips quickly pressed against her cheek. “Get home safe.” The mystery man gave her one final glance before swiftly climbing the stairs. She stared after him, her heart, and her pussy, aching from the fact that she would never see him again.

Camille felt so disappointed in herself as Jabari ushered them into a sleek, black Cadillac Escalade. Her sister’s night was ruined because she slipped up and left her alone. She should’ve never let her guard down. She should’ve never taken those shots. And she definitely shouldn’t have given that man a dance. Because that’s all she could think about.

How her body molded into his. How she responded to his touch. How he gazed into her eyes. How wet she got for him. And that orgasm… she couldn’t even remember having one that good before… especially not with her fiancé. It felt as if she had found her soulmate, only to be torn away from him, her chest aching with every passing second.

Camille shook her head, a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not with her sister’s head in her lap as their driver pulled off towards their hotel. Kali and the rest of the girls chattered quietly as Camille stroked her sister’s hair. Hopefully the one hour at Crimson didn’t overshadow the entire night for her.

Camille sighed and leaned her head against her seat’s window. I just need to get back to Houston, she thought. And then I’ll be able to forget about him and put this night behind me.

Terry

Terry’s jaw clenched as he peered out of the window, watching Jabari get the group of women into the luxury SUV. Jabari closed the front passenger door as the last one put on her seatbelt. He then jogged to the driver’s side and briefly spoke to the chauffeur. After a tap on the hood, the driver sped off in the direction of Bourbon Street. Terry stepped away from the window and turned to look at the center of the room. A man dangled from a meat hook attached to the tall ceiling, thrashing in the chains used to restrain him. Terry’s blood boiled as he watched him struggle, muffled pleas trying to pass the gag in his mouth. His face was barely recognizable, but Terry knew it was Justin Grey. The 20-something year-old son of some Hollywood executive who was turned six months ago. Terry knew he was too young and immature to behave himself around Indulgences. But his business partners thought otherwise. Justin’s $5,000,000 donation was just too enticing to pass up.

Both of Justin’s eyes were nearly swollen shut. Bruises bloomed across his face and neck. His nose was obviously broken. A gash on his cheek leaked blood onto the floor. Although the man’s vampire status would’ve dulled the pain of a human’s attempt to hurt him, the ass whooping he got from his fellow supernaturals had him writhing in agony.

Terry shook his head as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. If it wasn’t for this motherfucker, he would be in one of the private rooms upstairs with his recent dance partner, letting her ride his face and his dick until the sun rose. But no. He had to deal with this bullshit. Bullshit that ran seven perfect Indulgences out of his club. It wasn’t the end of the world, his clients would still be satisfied. There were about fifty men and women walking around Crimson with the red wristbands. Only fifteen clients were present today, so they had plenty to choose from. But he could tell that the bachelorette party was a fan favorite, since most of his clients eagerly joined to beat the man who ran them off. They circled Justin’s upside down form, waiting for Terry to give them the greenlight to finish him off.

Terry sipped the dark liquor slowly, savoring the burn in the back of his throat. He walked over to Justin and crouched down near his face. Justin took labored breaths, flinching as Terry’s hand reached for the gag in his mouth. In one fluid motion, Terry yanked the rag out of mouth, sending blood and teeth scattering across the floor. Justin cried out. Terry just stared, giving him a sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Friends, guests…,” Terry started as he slowly rose to his feet. “What is the single most important rule when handling Indulg–”

“Terry, man come on. I-I didn’t… I j-just got a little carried awa–” Justin began to beg.

“Shut. The Fuck. Up,” Terry gritted. No one moved, no one dared to reply, so Terry began again. “Indulgences should never… ever… be forced to do anything. No matter what. It is our responsibility to convince. To seduce. Our interactions with humans, especially Indulgences, are meant to be mutualistic. We give as much as we take. If we go around abusing them and acting entitled, we’ll eventually lose access to them. And if we lose access to them, our chances of survival get real fucking slim.”

Terry took another slow sip of whiskey, his expression calm, but his words laced with venom. Contrary to popular folklore, vampires didn’t loathe humans, they thrived on them. Humans were their life force, their source of entertainment, their companions in an otherwise meaningless existence. They brought color to the gray monotony of their extended lifetimes. Disruptions to this delicate, symbiotic bond were rare, but when they happened, they were never taken lightly. Terry and other vampires had spent centuries cultivating these relationships, and this small transgression was a threat to that hard-won balance. What made it worse was that the woman who had captured his heart was entangled in this mess. But despite the simmering rage beneath his calm exterior, he refused to let this minor setback derail his evening. He was still going to put someone through a mattress tonight, so he was going to make this quick.

Jabari walked into the room, nodding towards Terry to confirm that the women were heading back towards their hotel. He nodded back, taking a final sip of whiskey before placing the glass on a nearby surface.

“Everyone, please don’t let the foolish actions of one ruin your night. When you’re ready, return to the main area and have your fun,” Terry spoke diplomatically. Then he turned his attention to Jabari, who glared menacingly at Justin.

“Jabari,” Terry called calmly. Jabari’s eyes snapped in his direction.

“You were interested in the girl that Justin attacked, yes?” Jabari simply nodded. Terry hummed in response. “Will you do the honors and kill him? Try not to be too loud, we don’t want to disturb the rest of the club.”

Jabari grinned, shifting into his supernatural form as he stalked toward Justin.

“No, NO! Terry please, I-I-I learned my lesson! It won’t happen again!” Justin cried out as Jabari’s eyes shifted to a deep red, his canines elongating and his nails sharpening.

Terry drowned out Justin’s screams as Jabari's claws pierced his flesh, ripping him apart. He knew Jabari would finish the job right, so he made his way towards the door without looking back, pulling his business phone out of his pocket. Now that the situation was handled, his mind could return to more pressing matters. The lovely little vixen who put him under her spell in less than twenty minutes. He swiped through the electronic records that another bouncer, Tariq, sent him. They displayed copies of all of the driver’s licenses that were scanned that night. He searched through dozens of photos before he landed on one that made his heart skip a beat.

Camille DeWaterson.

04/26/1995.

Houston, Texas.

Each passing second that Terry’s eyes lingered on the photo solidified his decision. The decision he made when she had rushed off to tend to her sister now felt inevitable—he was going to pursue her with everything he had. The moment they shared on the dancefloor wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it was raw, too real to dismiss. When she had looked at him, there had been something in her gaze, something that bordered on reverence. As if he had become her anchor in a world full of uncertainty. He couldn’t shake the intensity of it, the desire to see that look again, to make her feel that way once more. And the way she came undone in his arms? It was so fucking erotic. If she writhed against him like that just from some kissing and touching, how would she act underneath him as he stretched her out. Would she scream his name? Would she beg him to let her cum? Would she wet up his sheets? He was determined to find out. And once he did, he would never let her go.

Besides, she obviously needed to be saved from her engagement. No properly satisfied woman would have acted how she did. It was practically a cry for help. A bat signal that said she needed someone to take care of her body, mind, and soul. And Terry knew he would be the best person to do so. Not the lame ass nigga she was with now.

He took a screenshot of the driver’s license and tucked the phone back into his pocket. Tomorrow, he would dig through the internet for everything linked to his new obsession. But right now, he needed to find some relief and bury himself in some pussy. He was still hard from the dance he got and Camille’s ID picture only made the tightening in his groin worse. He waved over Amber as she headed in his direction. Once she stood in front of him, he wordlessly threw her over his shoulder, hauling her upstairs towards the private rooms.

-----------------

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @kaylaahisthebestest @notapradagurl7 @23jammy so sorry if I missed anyone, please comment so I can add you for next week!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Editorial Vocabulary

definitions of terms during the writing, editing and publishing process

Acknowledgements: Text in which the author thanks those who’ve supported them.

Action beat: Short description that comes before, between or just after dialogue.

Adjective: A word that describes a noun.

Adverb: A word that describes a verb.

Adverbial phrase: A group of words that describe a verb.

Afterword: A concluding section, often reflecting on the book’s creation or providing additional context.

Anaphora: The deliberate repetition of words or phrases at the beginning of successive clauses for artistic effect.

Antagonist: An adversary. The character who creates obstacles and challenges for the protagonist, or behaves in a hostile fashion towards the protagonist.

Anti-protagonist: A protagonist whose own actions create opposition and conflict, often within themselves or against their own goals.

Apostrophe: A punctuation mark used to indicate possession, omission and, occasionally, a plural.

Appendix: Space in a book for material that doesn’t fit comfortably in the main text.

Asyndeton: Literary device through which a sentence’s structure follows the following pattern: A, B, C.

B-C

Back matter: Also end matter. Elements reserved for the back of a book, including appendix, glossary, endnotes, bibliography and index.

Beta reader: Test-reader who provides feedback on book.

Bibliography: List of all works cited in book, and any other work of interest to the reader.

Chapter drop: The space above and below the chapter title.

Character arc: Narrative that shows how a character changes and develops.

Characterization: The process of revealing a character's personality, traits and motives through actions and dialogue.

Colon: Punctuation mark that introduces additional/qualifying information about the clause it follows.

Comma splice: Two independent clauses joined by a comma rather than a conjunction or an alternative punctuation mark.

Conjunction: A word that connects clauses or sentences (e.g. ‘and’, ‘but’, ‘if’, ‘then’)

Copyediting: A review of grammar, punctuation, and spelling, ensuring consistency and accuracy in the manuscript's language.

Critique: Also manuscript evaluation. Report analysing a book’s strengths and weaknesses.

D

Denouement: The final part of the book in which all the plot strands are brought together and resolved.

Deuteragonist: A sidekick or confidante character who has the most influence on the protagonist, often helping them solve problems and overcome obstacles. Can be critical to driving the plot.

Developmental editing: Also structural editing. The improvement of a manuscript's structure, content, and overall narrative, focusing on big-picture elements. Attends to plot, characterisation, narration and pacing.

Dialogue tag: Also speech tag. Words that indicate which character is speaking (e.g. John said).

Dialogue: The lines characters speak in a book.

Diversity reader: Also sensitivity reader. Test-reader who checks for misrepresentation in books.

Double-page spread: Also DPS. The view of a printed book or PDF when opened so that the left- and right-hand pages are both visible.

Drama: The conflicts, emotional intensity, and impactful events that drive the plot and engage readers emotionally. The focus is on character relationships, motivations, and the consequences of their actions.

Dropped capital: Decorative first letter of the first word on the first line in a chapter. Larger than the rest of the text and drops down two lines or more.

E-F

Ellipsis: Punctuation mark that indicates a trailing-off or a pause.

End matter: Also back matter. Elements reserved for the back of a book, including appendix, glossary, endnotes, bibliography and index.

Endnote: Additional useful information at the end of a chapter or book.

Filter word: Verb that tells rather than shows (e.g. ‘noticed’, ‘seemed’, ‘spotted’, ‘saw’).

Folio: Somewhat old-fashioned term for page number. Also used to refer to a page.

Footnote: Additional useful information at the bottom of a page.

Foreword: A recommendation of the work written by someone other than the author.

Fourth wall: In books, the conceptual space between the characters and the readers.

Free indirect speech: Also free indirect style and free indirect discourse. Third-person narrative that holds the essence of first person thought or dialogue.

Front matter: Also prelims. Includes part title and title pages, foreword, preface and acknowledgements.

Full point: Period or full stop.

Full stop: Period or full point.

G-L

Glossary: Alphabetical list of important terms with explanations or definitions.

Habitual past tense: Uses ‘would’ or ‘used to’ with a verb to indicate events that happened routinely in a time past.

Half-title page: The first page of a book with any text on it; in a printed book, always a right-hand page. Contains only the main title of the book.

Head-hopping: Jumping from one character’s thoughts and internal experiences to another’s. Indicates viewpoint has been dropped.

Imprint: Publisher’s name.

Independent clause: A group of words that contains a subject and a predicate.

Index: Alphabetical list of all topics, themes, key terms and cited author names covered in the book, and the corresponding page numbers.

Information dump: Also word dump. Information that’s necessary to the story but isn’t artfully delivered, or weaved creatively into the narrative and dialogue.

Line editing: Also stylistic editing. The refining of a manuscript's language, focusing on consistency, clarity, flow and style at sentence level.

M-O

Maid-and-butler dialogue: Dialogue in which one character tells another something they already know so the reader can access backstory.

Manuscript evaluation: Also critique. Report analysing a book’s strengths and weaknesses.

Narrative arc: Also story arc. The structure and shape of a story.

Narrative authenticity: The believability and truthfulness of a story so that the characters and events feel real within the framework of the novel’s world.

Narrative distance: Also psychic distance. How close the reader feels to a character’s thoughts, emotions and experiences within a story.

Narrative: Story. The part of the book that’s narrated, excluding the dialogue.

Narrative style: The author's unique manner of storytelling, encompassing language, tone, viewpoint and other structural choices.

Narrative voice: The style, tone, and personality through which a narrator or character tells a story to readers.

Numerals, Arabic: 1, 2, 3 etc.

Numerals, Roman: i, ii, iii etc.

Omniscient: All-knowing. Refers to a viewpoint style in fiction writing.

Overwriting: Using too many words on the page. Often characterized by repetition and redundancy.

P

Page proofs: A file that’s reached a stage in the publishing process where the text and images of a manuscript have been laid out in their final format.

Pantser: A writer who doesn’t outline or plan story structure, but flies by the seat of their pants.

Period: Full stop or full point.

Perspective character: Also viewpoint character. The character through whose eyes the story is primarily told. The narrative lens through which readers experience events, thoughts, and emotions within the story.

Plot: The sequence of events in a novel.

Point of view: Also viewpoint and POV. Describes whose head we’re in when we read a book, or whose perspective we experience the story from.

Polysyndeton: Literary device through which a sentence’s structure follows the following pattern: A and B and C.

Predicate: The part of a sentence that contains a verb and that tells us something about what the subject’s doing or what they are.

Preface: An explanation of the purpose, scope and content of a book, and written by the author.

Prelims: Also front matter. Includes part title and title pages, foreword, preface and acknowledgements.

Pronoun: A word that replaces a noun (e.g. I, you, he, she, we, me, it, this, that, them those, myself, who, whom). Pronouns can act and be acted upon like any noun.

Proofreading: The final pre-publication quality-control stage of editing where any final literal errors and layout problems are flagged up. Comes after developmental editing, stylistic line editing and copyediting.

Proper noun: A named person, place or organization. Always takes an initial capital letter.

Protagonist: The leading character in a novel, often facing central conflicts and driving action.

Psychic distance: Also narrative distance. How close the reader feels to a character’s thoughts, emotions and experiences within a story.

Purple prose: Overblown, poorly structured writing with strings of extraneous and often multisyllabic adjectives and adverbs.

Q-R

Quotation mark: Also speech mark. Punctuation that indicates the spoken word. Singles or doubles are acceptable.

Recto: The right-hand page of a book.

References: List of all the works cited in your book.

Roman typeface: Not italic.

Running head: Text that runs across the top of a page (e.g. title of the book, chapter title, author’s name).

S

Scene: a distinct segment or building block where specific actions and events unfold in a setting.

Scene technique: The use of dialogue, action, setting, and tension to craft compelling moments in the story.

Semi-colon: A punctuation mark that indicates a stronger pause than a comma between two main clauses.

Sensitivity reader: Also diversity reader. Test-reader who checks for misrepresentation in books.

Speech mark: Also quotation mark. Punctuation that indicates the spoken word. Singles or doubles are acceptable.

Speech tag: Also dialogue tag. Words that indicate which character is speaking (e.g. John said).

Story arc: Also narrative arc. The structure and shape of a story.

Structural editing: Also developmental editing. The improvement of a manuscript's structure, content, and overall narrative, focusing on big-picture elements. Attends to plot, characterisation, narration and pacing.

Style sheet: In which an author or editor records stylistic and language preferences, and tracks who’s who, what’s where, and when X, Y and Z happens.

Stylistic editing: Also line editing. The refining of a manuscript's language, focusing on consistency, clarity, flow and style at sentence level.

Subject: The thing in a sentence that’s doing or being something.

Subplot: A secondary storyline that supports and enhances the main plot of a narrative.

Suspense: The tension, uncertainty and anticipation created by withholding information, raising stakes or placing characters in imminent danger. Readers are kept guessing or forced to ask questions.

Syndeton: Literary device through which a sentence’s structure follows the following pattern: A, B and C (or A, B, and C).

T

Talking-heads syndrome: Dialogue that isn’t grounded in the environment or the characters’ responses to that environment.

Tense: The form a verb takes to indicate when an action happened in relation to the telling of it.

Tension: The emotional strain or suspense created by unresolved conflicts, stakes or uncertainties that keep readers engaged.

Tertiary character: A functional character who gives the story realism and depth, but doesn’t significantly impact on or influence the plot or the development of the other characters.

Theme: The novel’s central idea or message about life, society, or human nature.

Title page: Includes full title (and subtitle if there is one), author’s name, publisher’s name, logo, volume number, and edition.

Transgressor: A character who commits morally, socially, or legally questionable acts.

Tritagonist: Third most important character, who often provide regular emotional or physical support, but don’t determine how the story develops.

U-W

Unreliable dialogue: Dialogue that doesn’t match a character’s true voice, mood or intent.

Unreliable narrator: A character whose telling of the story cannot be taken at face value. They may be naïve, confused, or deliberately manipulative.

Verb, intransitive: A verb that doesn’t have a direct object (e.g. ‘I giggled’).

Verb, transitive: A verb that has a direct object (e.g. ‘wrote’ in ‘I wrote a book’).

Verb: A word that describes doing. Can refer to a physical action (e.g. to dig), a mental action (e.g. to wonder) or a state of being (e.g. to be).

Verso: The left-hand page of a book.

Viewpoint: Also point of view or POV. Describes whose head we’re in when we read a book.

Viewpoint character: Also perspective character. The character through whose eyes the story is primarily told, and the narrative lens through which readers experience events, thoughts, and emotions within the story.

Vocative: The form of address for a character directly referred to in dialogue.

Word dump: Also information dump. Information that’s necessary to the story but isn’t artfully delivered, or weaved creatively into the narrative and dialogue.

Source More: On Editing ⚜ Word Lists

[lunastrophe]

🕷️ Drow Lore

Hello! Here is the list of my posts about D&D drow lore, organized thematically - it will be regularly updated. Feel free to take a look if you are interested in a particular character or topic, or if you are looking for inspirations for your fanfiction or artwork 🙂 I also have Ask Box open.

☕ Ko-fi - link for those who feel like leaving a tip. It is totally not obligatory, though - all my posts are free to read and everybody is equally welcome to send a question!

🕸️ BG3 Drow Lore:

🕷️ Character: Minthara

• Minthara's Social Station in Drow Society

• About Minthara's Past

• Minthara's Past: Age and Name Meaning

• Minthara's Past: Minthara's Mother

• Minthara's Past: Childhood

• Minthara's Past: Minthara's Lover from House Vandree (theories) new

• Minthara And Orin: Before and After Indoctrination

• Minthara's Time in the Cult new

• Minthara About Slayer

• Minthara's alurlssrin

• Minthara's ust-nor

• Minthara's Tattoo

• Nightwarden Title

• House Baenre Family Tree(s) new

🕷️ Character: Nere

• Nere's Social Station in Drow Society

🕷️ Character: Araj

• Araj's Past and Ambitions

• Araj and Her Army

🕷️ Character: Dhourn

• Dhourn's Social Station and Past

🕷️ Character: Kar'niss

• Kar'niss' Past: Szarkai Theory

• Kar'niss' Past: Eilistraean Theory

• How to Feed Your Drider

🕷️ Cult of Lolth:

• Prayer to Lolth

• Sacrifices and Adjuration to Lolth

• Order of Soul Spiders

🕷️ Cult of Eilistraee:

• Prayer to Eilistraee

🕷️ Other:

• Eliette / Phase Spider Matriarch

🕸️ Drow Culture - Part 1:

(Part 2 - about Drow Social Relationships and Drow Nature - can be found here)

🕷️ Language:

• Glossary from Drow of the Underdark (2e)

• Official and Unofficial D&D Drow Scripts

• Drow Names (sources)

• Common Drow Phrases / Sayings (and their translations)

• More Drow Phrases and their translations

• Drow Phrases from Icewind Dale 2 drow sound sets (and their translations)

• Drow Pronunciation

• Prayer to Lolth (translation)

• Prayer to Eilistraee (translation)

🕷️ Sign language and gestures:

• Sign of Dead Spider (quote)

🕷️ Drow spirituality:

• Lolthite and Eilistraean Clergy and Dogmas

• How Eilistraee Feels About Lolth

• Eilistraee and Corellon (and Seldarine in general)

• Followers of Other Gods in Lolth-sworn Drow Cities

• Eilistraeans in the Underdark

🕷️ Drow cultural values and worldview:

• Eilistraean vs. Lolth-sworn Drow Worldview

• Drow Culture And Menstruation

🕷️ Drow and surfacers / other races:

• Drow And Sunlight

• Drow as "Beautiful" People

• You worship what? (quote)

• Dangerous Drow Merchants - History of Nym

• Drow And Slavery

• Half-drow in Drow Communities

• Valas the Black Raven, half-drow from Rilauven

🕷️ Drow free time:

• About Menzoberranzan Festivals and nedeirra

• Drow Games: Sava And Charhylniss

🕷️ Drow appearance and fashion:

• Drow Fashion and Hairstyles - various information

• Drow Textile Markets

• Drow And Spider Silk: Part 1 , Part 2

• Drow Haute Couture - Matron's Robe

🕷️ Food and drink:

• Poisoned or Not?

🕸️ Driders & Co:

🕷️ Driders in drow culture:

• Driders of the House Melarn

• Sorn and Nadal, Drider Brothers: Part 1 , Part 2

🕷️ Habitat:

• Cavern of Driders (quote)

🕷️ Feeding habits:

• How to Feed Your Drider

🕷️Other spider-like creatures / transformed drow:

• Aracholoth

🕸️ Drow Lore in D&D History:

• Drow First Mentioned (D&D 1e)

• Drow and Concept of Evil Matriarchal Society - about possible inspirations

• Drow Lore Sources

[streets-in-paradise]

Field of Practice - Maximus Decimus Meridius x (Fem)Reader

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Warnings: captive man x kind captor lady ( reader is the daughter of Proximo, backstory explanation for this would be provided if i ever write a continuation). Charge me for use of the " good kidnapper, bad kidnapper" trope here, in correlation with a grumpy dad-sunshine daughter dynamic.

Summary: Intrigued by the most mysterious among the freshly arrived gladiators, you appeal to unconventional measures to endorse his worth to your father. Your every attempt to get closer to him fails, untill his protectiveness emerges with a grim reminder of his past.

Tags: @wildsaltair

Notes: At this point I don't give a fuck If this makes sense because this took me three days to write, so if it's cringe so be it. Those about to clown salute you 🤡

Glossary: Pa - Informal contraction I made up from the latin word pater, meaning father.

Testings for the newcoming gladiators were their oportunity to prove their worth, but Maximus had no one to impress. He couldn't care less about the situation and acted precisely as such when his time came, amusing the trainer of the school in charge of leading the excercise. His attitude had certainly annoyed the master, but he proceeded with cautious patience, perhaps suspecting something greater could be hidding underneath.

Proximo wasn't the onlyone getting that impression, and a small part of the audience echoed it. As soon as he was released from the evaluative instance, Maximus found the sight of your bright smile observing the situation from afar. Reaching only once his attention exposed your presence, it was curious for him to see the sweetness in your face contrasting with the harshness of the enviroment. The general turned slave had also noticed you dressed in roman fashion: blue tunic and a modest palla.

Like a glimpse of the world he left behind, you didn't belong there. He observed you, radiant of cheer, saluting the teacher before the next fight would take place, and in that precise moment the master put his small cosmos in order.

" GET BACK INSIDE! This is no place for you to strut."

Far from being disencouraged, you protested the command with playfull mischievouness.

" Gladiatorial fights may be manly territory, but some of the most intense fanatics are often women. Being ignored only makes us scream louder in the crowd: everytime you bring new men I can tell who will become the most popular. Call it feminine intuition, but it's never wrong. "

Giving a few temptative steps closer with the same playfull attitude, you delivered a conclussion before your interlocutor could get angrier.

" Was i wrong about Haken? When I meet him, I said he looked like the Hercules of the germanians and that is precisely what he brings to the arena. When he fights, I see Thor wearing his magical belt of strenght just like in those stories he tells. "

Praise made the teacher smile very differently from the dry amusement Maximus obtained for his challenging attitude. That was the pridefull smirk of a man sweet talked by a beautifull girl. One calling him by his name, acknowledging him as a man.

The mocking comeback of Proximo cutted you off before he could express any kind of grattitude, or you could deepen the compliment.

" You were wrong about gettting a leopard cub, now I'll have to raise the little bastard AND IT MAY TAKE A YEAR TO MAKE A PROFIT !!! TWO, IF I MAKE HIM MATE! "

" Surely faster than it will take for those giraffes you got." You mocked him in return. " You won't have to worry, I will take care of the baby."

From that point, it was clear the argument was going to pause the activities.

" I CAN'T LET YOU DO IT!! I know you are going to approach it as a ' raise him with love' activity and then RUIN THE BLOODY THING FOR FIGHTING!! "

Despite he made fun of you with the same irony and cynism he directed towards the gladiators, it was clear you were close because no master of that sort and in that situation would have been found arguing or reasoning with a slave.

However, your entusiasm proved you had no fear for ignoring the scolding.

" Love seeker and useless for fighting ... WE SHOULD NAME HIM PARIS!! After all, Paris wears a leaopard fur when Menelaus spots him for their fight. "

Suddenly remembering that giving him a hug in front of the new slaves wasn't a good idea, you lovefully adressed him instead.

" Pa, you are the best!! "

Amused of the altercate yet somewhat shocked by the reveal, Maximus ended up doing the unthinkable because your irruption had distracted him. He wasn't thinking right when the words came up from his mouth, voice slightly dry from the prolonged silence.

" Have you read The Iliad?"

That wasn't precisely what he wanted to ask, but it was wiser than wondering out loud if you were trully the daughter of his short tempered owner.

You giggled for him before the response, unaware of the feat you had just accomplished.

" Of course! Not all of us are savages ... and trojan war epics are the only reading material you find in every corner of the empire because the emperors justify themselves on it to the foreign people they submit. "

Sweet, but not foolish or naive, you were proving yourself to him and Maximus refused to fall for it. Regardless of his initial dissaprobal, your father didn't miss the oportunity you left served for him.

" Spaniard is a deserter of the legions and that is all we know about him ... What can you tell me? "

The mere idea that you could do any kind of correct guess on him caused a cocky smirk on the gladiator, as if he challenged you knowing you would never make it.

You raised your eyebrows with amusement, shrug one shoulder, and observed him in silence for an instant before pronouncing a verdict.

" He didn't desert out of cowardice, he has the glance of a man that has seen enough, that wanders lost and has abandoned life way before stumbling with captivity ... But there is a timid light in his eyes. A sparkle, not strong enough yet. When the flame will shine once more, he will burn down everything in his way."

For the first time since he spotted you, he found himself trully impressed. Your accustom to hopeless men must had given you a talent to read them, distunguishing them apart from the desperation of those who still craved life.

" ... I need him to stand up before me if you want me to get more specific."

Proximo gave the order and he had to raise up again to present himself for one more examination he didn't want to pass.

" imponent physique, but not threatening. He doesn't look sculped by the gods, this is the hard work of a man. A mysterious man, and empty void that could be anyone. Whoever his fanatics want him to be a replacement of, whatever hole in their lives they need to fill following his fights. Others may think of unveiling the mystery, many women would love the challenge. He could be a soldier, he could be a farmer, the protective escort of a merchant ... Who knows? But he feels approachable and he is handsome. Of softer facial features than your typical gladiator, but manly without question. "

You were pacing in circles arround him, slowly and attentively as your observations were. Despite you didn't do it with any lustfull implications, Maximus despised to be examinated as a luxury item. That was exactly what you were trying to achieve: convincing your father that he wasn't worthless waste fitting for sacrifice.

" I am not your champion, save your flattery for him. It means nothing to me. "

" Not my fault if you are blind to your worth for the crowd. " You simply stated, sweetly behind his back before reaching the full turn back to his front. " When it comes to the female side of it, our northen god over here is popular among married women but maidens find him frightening. He resembles the big-sized barbarian up to ravage them in roman cautionary tales … You, Spaniard? What I have in front is a mysterious rebel of raw virile beauty irresistibly dangerous, but never menacing."

Tension in the environment kept increasing as your speech became slightly more daring.

" Strong arms that would hold you without crushing you, soft looking lips and a manly beard … Young women will adore you, parents will accuse you of corrupting the virgins. "

" And I will be the first If you don't stop praising his virtues. " Proximo interrumpted you, warning both with his choleric expression but you in particular on speech. " ... That is exactly why people form wrong assumptions of you! In every village we step, they whisper you are an easy girl. "

You turned back to face him, evidently angered by the reproach.

" I AM A SINGLE WOMAN SURROUNDED BY SWEATY GLADIATORS ... What do you think they would expect? What i do matters very little, I am guilty by association. I learned to live with that because I am very much proud of my father despite of being the useless daughter he discovered in old age, that he can't even directly inherit his business to. "

Maximus looked at the side in search for his numidian savior, verifying if he was amused as he was with that attempt of manipulation tactic. They shared silent smirks under the impossibility of laughing.

Used as he probably was, the father didn't fall for it.

" DON'T COME AT ME WITH THAT! "

" My behavior is irreproachable: If I give your men my honest encouragement, it's never of the physical kind. If the corrupt minded women commenting I am a whore knew me for real, they will think I am a fool instead. "

Eyes back on the gladiator, you approached him friendly as matter of proving your point.

" You are safe with me, Spaniard. My admiration begins and ends in words, ask Haken if you don't trust me yet ... Only one more thing I may ask from you, and that would be knowing your name. At least in the limits of my father's home, I like to adress our gladiators by their names. "

He smiled for you, but no more words came out from him. You understood the message implicit on his silence.

" I guess I haven't earned it yet. Very well, so I will, eventually ... with some hard work and perseverance. I'm sure we will have enough time for it. "

It didn't take much longer for him to discover just how much perseverant you could be. In that place of pain and death, you would come to the men like light filtering through a crack. Asking them about their past lives, their stories, easing their fears, or bringing a last moment of peace for the less skilled ones that knew themselves about to die. He could tell you weren't raised in that cruel environment and approached it with the lessons of your different experience.

Why, despite complaining about it, your father didn't establish a harsher control stopping you from sneaking among the gladiators? He understood watching your effect in them. Doomed men would adquire a last glimpse from their lost sense of worth, resembling that strange mix between a powerless slave and a pridefull hero a gladiator was supposed to be. Broken by the life on the school, by the lead of your father, you would pick the pieces of those men and get them on their feet so they would give a spectacle worth to watch. From your part, the intention felt genuine. If you realized that was the one use your father found for you, that wasn't the motivation of your approach.

Maximus, or Spaniard, like you knew him as, observed every interaction in silence. When you questioned him about the fresh damage on his shoulder, he ignored the concern. Never seeking for your attention, he wanted to make you understand he would rather be ignored. Lost in his own tragedy, he accomplished it untill from the less expected of places something evoked it to him.

The scribe had begged for salvation at your feet. Careless for staining your nice tunic without the palla, you sat next to him and in desperate attempts of comforting him, you plotted a way of helping his case.

" We can make you my teacher!! Pa allways says that someday we will go to Rome. The new emperor is known for being a fanatic of gladiators, so we may have a chance soon if he lifts the prohibition. My problem is that the rudimentary bits of culture I have adquired are not enough for the capital … but you can change that. "

The frightened man smiled as he followed you in silence.

" With your help, when the time will come, I'll resemble a refined lady and maybe I will find a wealthy husband. If I present it to my father like an investment, not a matter of sparing your life, maybe he won't even get mad about it! The nature of his business makes it hard for me to find prospects, … I need all the help i can get."

You chuckled to your own self deprecating joke before deepening it.

" As you can see, I am a disaster. All I do well here is to make a sad man smile, but that is not enough if I want to really impress my father."

As if his will had been taken over by some vengefull entithy, Spaniard abandoned his letharge with loud, dark sounding laughter.

" See? He is laughing! Although I would like to know why. "

The casual mention of the man that ruined his life, a possible chance to get revenge presented to him and the irony that you represented in that context. Word by word, all the aspects of yourself you were mannifesting to the scribe would have been a delight for that bastard. He didn't know you for real, but it made him fear for you in advance.

With a sinister semblance, he informed you.

" If you ever step in Rome, Commodus will never let you go. "

Misunderstanding his words, heat raised on your face to the thought of finding your previous praise on him retributed.

" Ohh, Spaniard … That is adorable!! Very unrealistic, but I deeply appreciate your comfort. Specially because it comes from you. "

You gave a peck in the air on his direction, playfully blowing a kiss. He didn't reacted to it, not at least like you expected.

" That was not comfort, it was a warning. Stay away from that bastard. You analized me in order to discover which kind of unwanted attention from female admirors would follow me, I returned the favor. "

For the first time since your meeting, he was trully responding to you and you could only encourage him with entusiastical curiosity.

" And what can you tell of me? This is exciting, nobody tried it before. Certainly I can't understand what made you look at the daughter of the owner of a gladiator school in some distant provincial hell and conclude ' Sure, she would charm the emperor' "

The scared man of words shared a few nervous chuckles with you and only then you were reminded of his presence.

" ... I will plead your case later and come back with the answer … Would you let me have a moment with Spaniard? He is kind of shy and I am afraid he may stop talking to me if there are witnesses. "

He obbeyed your ask, not before thanking you one last time then reaching enough distance to abandon the conversation.

Still sitting carelessly with his back against a wall, the spaniard awaited for whatever would be the next step of your plan.

Taking off the leather ligaments keeping your hair in a tail, you moved your head so it would fall nicely and wildly. Then, you stood up and walked on his direction trying to feel as pretty as you could, as if he would be the buyer you needed to impress.

" Go ahead, be my measure of worth, … what do you have for me? Which one is the crowd were I should seek for a husband? "

You gave a slow twirl, allowing him to observe you from every angle and the reverse parody made him laugh.

" I can tell you have became your father's cheer to compensate the fear that you can't be his pride. I am almost sure he must be proud of you anyways, but you don't feel it in yourself. Since you can't find a husband, you have made of the slaves he trades with your field of practice. In your rehearsals, you turn worthless flesh into pridefull fighters. He knows it, so he ultimately allows it because it's good for business. He breaks the men untill they face they have became slaves, and you make them feel like men again in time for them to die when they are told to, but giving honorable performances. "

You smile had faded and you looked down, comfronted with an unconfortable truth. You could have given up, if it wouldn't be for the follow up of his grim commentary.

" And last, but definitely not least: you are beautifull. "

Your sparkle was back, surprised as you were with his statement.

" You think? "

He didn't intend to encourage you, what he had for you was more like brutal honesty coming from his frustrating position than actual praise.

" That scribe didn't have a girl as pretty as you worrying for him in his whole life and you must know it … And the germanian? Wrapped arround your finger, he smiled like a fool when you called him a god. On the outside world you have it hard, but here you are Helen of Troy watching the slaughter from the high tower. We are a cursed parody for the Age of Heroes and you are the missing piece in the recreated act. Any roman fanatic of gladiator fights would find that fascinating."

You colapsed next to him, sharing the surface of the same wall as support for your back.

" Very insightfull, even poetic ... but that is not enough. You pointed at the emperor, you spoke as if you knew him. There has to be something else you aren't telling me."

He realized of his emotionally driven mistake and quickly corrected it.

" I've heard rumours, that happens often in the army. They say his father was deeply ashamed of him. He failed at making him proud because he is cruel and whimsical, but desperately craves for validation. He wants to feel loved, among all things, and you are someone capable of finding beauty in the ugliest of places. You would charm him so fast, you wouldn't realize of your mistake in time. He would keep you captive, making you do for him what you do for those men ... A sword in your father's throat, and if you refuse he will make the head roll at your feet."

At that point you sensed he couldn't be talking of you: it felt too specific and personal. Whatever your talk with the scribe had awakened in him was taken as facade to deal with something he carried inside, a wound from his past.

" ... They made you hold the sword against the throat of an innocent and you refused to give the lethal blow .... That's why you deserted!! "

He let you have the partially wrong guess with a brief smile of comfirmation, because in that way he could at least satisfy your curiosity for him without revealing anything relevant.

Of course, he didn't consider that would only increase the already growing admiration you had for him.

" You are an honorable man ... YOU ARE A HERO!! I knew it!! I knew it from the first moment I saw you!! "

Despite he saw it coming, he didn't stop you from curling against him. It was the very first act of warm human contact he received since his friend of the road had healed his wounds, so he closed his eyes and pretended to not be enjoying of it until a lovely sigh from you got him staring back at you.

" ... What was that? "

He asked more playfully than angryly, trying to understand what he could have possibly done to cause it.

" Forget Rome and those boring rich men. Do you want to know what I think now, Spaniard? If I ever marry, I want my husband to be just like you."

You followed the confession with a chaste peck on his right cheek, but unfortunately got caught in the action by the arrival of his closest acquaintance there.

" Juba! " You sweetly saluted him, releasing the man beside you without leaving him before excusing yourself. " Your performance was excellent, ... did I forgot to mention it? You will do great in the arena, we are expectant about you. "

The terrible acting you pulled convinced no one.

" You are here for him, we all know that. "

" I can't play favorites, but he looked like he needed a hug. Have you seen the mess in his shoulder? And he wouldn't let me call a healer! " You complained with him once you were back on your feet. " Stubborn man is your fellow. "

You shared a few chuckles of agreement on an observation that was mutual, untill another irruption coming from behind him changed the course of the situation.

" There she is, ... the backstabber! Already seeking to try the softer arms of the spaniard? "

Haken was looking at you in mockfully played offense, as if he resented you would be siding with his competence. Despite it was certain that your interest in the spaniard was quite different from the playfull compliment exchanges you had with your friend, you didn't want to make him feel bad about it.

" What I said doesn't apply to me. I am not scared of you, that was for the girls in the crowd who have no idea that your huge chest is the casket for the big jewel that is your heart. "

The occurence was so intricate that he simply bursted into laughter looking at you smiling with innocence at the end of the phrase.

" Then I suppose you won't get frightened if I do this ... "

Without any more warnings, he easily picked you up from the ground in parodic representation of the insidious roman misconception you mentioned before. Your cheerfull screaming caught the attention of more bystander gladiators, circunstantial audience for the comedy.

Maximus abstained himself from entering the game in the role of your savior, the closeness you had briefly shared was enough for one day.

[aego-weaver]

Asexual characters getting laid

So, the recent discussion around a certain demon has brought a certain subject to the forefront of my circles. So, in this essay, let's talk about asexual characters getting laid, usually in fanfiction, but my advice applies to original work as well.

Glossary

As I discuss this, I will be using the relevant terms. For your convenience, I will define them here. Those in the community, you can skip this section.

Asexual: Often shortened to Ace, an asexual is a person who experiences little to no sexual attraction.

Gray Ace: Notice how I said "little to no" in the previous definition? gray Aces are why. Still falling under the field of asexuality, gray aces experience sexual attraction only on rare occasions or in specific situations.

Demisexual: A person who only experiences sexual attraction after a close emotional (not necessarily romantic) connection exists. It is a form of gray ace.

Aromantic: Often shortened to Aro, an aromantic is a person who experiences little to no romantic attraction.

Alloromantic: Alloromantic is opposite of Aromantic, being a person who regularly experiences romantic attraction. For this essay, I will use the abbreviated form Allo for this meaning exclusively. In more general parlance, Allo can also be short for allosexual, the opposite of asexual.

Sex Repulsed: A person who is sex repulsed has a strong negative reaction to sexual situations. This can manifest as fear, disgust, anxiety, etc.

Sex Favorable: A person who is sex favorable has a positive reaction to sexual situations. This shouldn't be confused with being sex positive, which is about your opinion regarding sex in society and sits outside the scope of this essay.

Opening Principles

The main question is this: Is it okay to write a story in which an asexual character has a sexual encounter or long-term sexual relationship?

The answer, in my opinion, is yes, if you do it right.

The question you need to ask is why are they doing this? You should really ask that question for any character getting laid, but it's really important when you want an asexual character to do the dance.

Asexuals and their relationship to sex

Now, as I start this section, I feel the need to drop my credentials... I am a sex-favorable aroace with an axe to grind. That's it really.

As far as a stereotype exists for asexuals, it's a sex-repulsed aroace who is usually so extremely repulsed they just about faint at the sight of a bare breast or is so naive they wouldn't know what a dildo is.

Now, both of these people exist, I'm sure. But, they aren't the only options. You can have sex-neutral or favorable aces, you can have allo aces, you can have gray aces and demisexuals. Asexuals can like kinky stuff or keep it vanilla. The options are limitless.

Libido is different from attraction. I'm sure you've heard of people who just need it more or less often. Guess what? Asexuals can get aroused just like everyone else; we just have less of an outlet for it.

A good but honestly overused analogy is food: libido is getting hungry while attraction is thinking something looks delicious. Some of us aces (like myself) are just sitting in the kitchen, hungry as all hell, but nothing catches the eye. We still might eat something and enjoy it, but it's a different process.

The only unifying factor for asexuals is experiencing little to no sexual attraction. That's it!

Reasons your asexual character might want to get laid

I'm going to run through a bunch of reasons why an asexual person might find themselves getting laid. I'll go over story ideas they make me think of (which you are free to steal; please steal them, I beg you) and potential pitfalls you need to avoid.

Do note the phrase "want to" in the title of this section. I'm only covering story reasons that are at least mostly consensual.

These aren't in any particular order; I'm just writing them as I think of them.

Personal Gain

Perhaps they benefit in some fashion from the arrangement. For example:

An asexual prostitute is an easy example.

A con artist, using sex to influence their victims, but not feeling anything real towards them.

This one is a great choice for dark character exploration. It's also one of the few options that works well if the character is sex-repulsed; put the reader in the shoes of a sex-repulsed character who needs to have sex for some reason and you've got something I've never seen before and really want to see done well. Tread lightly though, that idea is very easy to get wrong.

For a loved one

This one's for the allo aces out there. An asexual character could have sex for their partner's sake. Just like you, for example, might see a movie you don't care about because your SO wants to see it.

That's a fine reason... with a major caveat: it shouldn't be a transactional thing. Nothing in relationships should be, but I'm calling it out. Your ace character doesn't owe their loved one sex, but if they want to make their love happy, it's an option.

That said, if you want the audience to hate the loved one, get as transactional as you want. You don't have to write healthy relationships, just be aware of what you are doing.

For pleasure and fun

If your asexual character isn't sex-repulsed, they could just... want sex for its own sake. The only caveat here is treating the issue with respect. The characters approach to sex is different from attraction, being more something they want rather than a need.

Exceptions

You could explore an ace character drifting into gray ace territory, struggling with new emotions... or even just a character who already identifies as gray asexual.

My main concern here is avoiding invalidating the character's identity: they are still asexual, just with some shades of gray.

A common refrain from those opposed to asexuality is "you just haven't found the right person yet". Two things about that:

Don't unwittingly write a story where those idiots are right.

If a person experiences no sexual attraction, and then finds themselves doing so for a specific person, usually one they are close to, we have a word for that. It's in the glossary, starting with a D.

One-offs

Rapid fire time. These are all reasons an asexual character might have sex on a short term basis. If you're writing a short story, that might be all you need.

Peer pressure to stop being a virgin. Not a fun reason, but I'm sure it happens.

Curiosity about sex.

Manipulation by their partner. Be careful with this one, it borders on non-con... unless that's what you're writing.

They are trying to have a baby.

Some weird magic thing in your setting.

Fuck, they could lose a bet if you feel like it.

Conclusion

Just because you're writing about people doing the horizontal hula doesn't mean the few ace characters we have need to be stripped of their identity just to be stripped of their clothes. Keeping that identity in mind can help open new story paths, paths that are currently unexplored.

Side note: if you can find any well written smut featuring an asexual lead, please tell me about it. I want to read it.

[puppietooth]

hi these are some of my sydcarmy headcanons:

* i love reading fics where they both realize they like each other and then start furiously making out but. also. what if carmy asks syd out and she’s a little skeptical about it at first? but she agrees to go on the date anyway — and carmy takes her out to a little fancy joint by the river and is so nervous about messing up that his hands are so so so shaky and he can’t even pour the wine into their glasses right. so he fumbles through some half apology half speech about how he’s just really happy she’s here and how he really really really likes her and how he’s honestly glad that she was willing to give him a chance and how he’s very anxious because she looks so pretty in that dress she’s wearing. and syd realizes that, holy shit, he really does like her — and she thinks she really likes him too. so they wine and they dine and when the night is over he takes her home, walks her up to her door, and doesn’t kiss her because he says that’s something he’d like to do on the third date, if she’ll have him. and of course, she says yes, she would like to go on more dates with him — she says yes like he just proposed to her, because they’re so intense about everything they do.

* i think that syd and carmy, carmy especially, are the type of people to be vaguely private about their relationship. like, it’s very obvious that they are together, they won’t hide it — if you see them in person, if you see the way they look at each other, move with each other, the way they talk to each other, you will know that they’re together. they will casually mention each other in interviews and articles, refer to the other as their partner. but they will not post a million pictures of each other on social media, they are not that couple. there will be the occasional, slightly vague post — a picture of carmy in his chef whites, back turned to the camera, posted to syd’s instagram account to congratulate him on The Bear’s fifth year of service. A congratulations to chef sydney adamu on her james beard nomination tweeted to carmy’s twitter account. and if they ever do attain that level of fame, there will be the occasional pap shot of them walking back from a deli, or a farmer’s market (in true JAW fashion). but unless you’re close to them you’ll only see that surface level to their relationship

* i know that they’re roughly the same height but in my head sydney is just slightly taller than carmy, just by a few inches, nothing too big. carmy is not the type of person that cares about height, it’s not a big insecurity of his, and deep down, he finds the similarity in height between him and syd to be quite grounding and comforting. he likes being able to hug her and comfortably put his chin on her shoulder. he likes how it doesn’t feel awkward when they put their arms around each other, and how neither of them have to bend down or get on their toes to kiss each other.

* another thing i absolutely love in fics — when syd just gets the opportunity to talk about her hair. i don’t think carmy is ignorant, but realistically, he does not know about, for instance, the difference between 2b and 4c hair (as in, the labels) and how to care for 4c hair, which (i’m pretty sure) syd has. like, i think hair care would be such an important aspect of their relationship — syd teaches him about protective styles, tells him why she sleeps with a satin scarf wrapped around her braids, what silk presses are and why she has to spend a good twenty minutes wrapping it up each night before she goes to bed. and carmy helps her take her braids out, because four hands are faster than two, he helps her put twists in, helps her blow dry and comb it out the night before her next appointment. and sixth months into their relationship, he becomes a walking glossary — he will tell you what leave-in conditioner is, what edge control is for, why you shouldn’t buy cantu products, the textural difference between synthetic and human hair. and secretly, he thinks to himself, this will also be useful information for him to know if he and syd ever have kids one day because yes — carmy doesn’t do things halfway and he is already thinking that far ahead.

[uispeccoll]

#MiniatureMonday

A guide to the ball room : being a complete compendium of the etiquette of dancing : with the figures of all the quadrilles, gallopades, mazourkas, polonaises, etc., etc., beautifully embellished / by a man of fashion.

A guide to the ball room is a stunning little book dated all the way back to 1884. Detailing many etiquette and dancing rules, along with instructions, this book is a perfect guide to learning the ins and outs of the ball room.

The back of the book also features a glossary of French terms often used in the ball room. So grab a partner, read this book, and get to dancing--just like those from the 1800s!

--Adair J.

[sturionic]

In the course of spiralling down an internet rabbit hole today, I found a truly excellent essay about the trials and tribulations of fandom: How To BNF Without Tears, by Walter A. Willis

If you are familiar with the term BNF (Big-Name Fan), you may have heard it in the context of early-aughts fandoms, or some configuration of superwholock. But this article is from 1954!

Please enjoy these excerpts:

Very well, let's consider a day in the life of this wretched Neofan. Brighteyed, the little fellow wakes early, listening for the tread of the postman. His ears are so sensitive to this faint sound that he will leap out of bed, every nerve quivering, when the man is a hundred yards away ….. whereas before he became a fan a whole battery of alarm clocks barely fluttered an eyelid.

It's me, I'm the wretched little fellow refreshing my AO3 inbox, nerves a-quivering

Consider now a day in the life of the BNF. He too is driven from pillow to post, but since he was up to two o'clock in the morning finishing an article he had promised for ten days ago, the postman has to knock twice to waken him. He staggers down the stairs, observing with a sinking feeling that the porch is covered with a layer of various sized envelopes[....]Some of the letters are from his friends, and he puts those in his pocket to be enjoyed later. Some are from self-appointed enemies, and he puts those aside until he feels stronger. The rest are from Neofen. Some of them want subscriptions to his fanzine. Some want information. Some want material for their fanzine. Nearly all of them are rude.

1954 equivalent of "RIP your inbox"

Now, on the way the BNF handles this mail depends whether he shall stay in fandom or retire suffering from chronic disenchantment like so many others[...]So I am going to suggest some rules which you might consider following when you become a BNF. (All that is necessary to become a BNF is to maintain a reasonably energetic standard of fanactivity for approximately two years.)

And then our friend Walter goes on to advise BNFs to "comment on as many first issues [of fanzines] as you can, and always find something to praise," "Always be polite and kind to Neofans," and to take the piss out of yourself: "Humourous attacks on you should be encouraged -- they add to the interest of fandom, rank as egoboo, and might give you something to write about." (Walter also warns on the dangers of attending conventions, and advises that you wear a false beard to maintain anonymity.)

Of course, I had to know: what fandom were these guys in?

So I did a little digging. Walter mentions a "Ken Potter" in his letter. Turns out Ken Potter ran multiple science fiction fanzines through the 1950's and 60's, including Brennschluss, Triumph and Scientifiction.

A scan of Brenschluss, containing such gems as "tho I did once kiss a girl" and "Isn't Fandom romantic!"

Additional glossary for some terms used in Walter's essay:

"Egoboo": A colloquial expression for the pleasure received from public recognition of voluntary work. Originated in science fiction fandom as early as 1947

"Hectoed" fanzine: A method of copying text and illustrations that fell out of fashion after the 1940's. It involves involves making a bed of gelatin, transferring a special carbon ink to the gelatin and then laying on and picking up pieces of paper.

"Faned": Slang for "fan editor," aka the editor of a fandom publication, usually a zine.

[yinyuedijun]

TOKYO VICE | glossary and notes

hi this is my extended author's note for my unserious yandere suo fic (which will be posted very shortly after this). deeply sorry if you read all that. see below for vocab and world-building delusions!

Disclaimer: I am not fluent in Japanese, have only spent very limited time in Japan’s red light districts, and definitely have no association with Japanese criminal organisations. Thus, I cannot promise 100% accuracy of the below lol. However, I have tried to understand and briefly describe these terms to the best of my abilities. Take it all with a grain of salt!

YAKUZA TERMS/NOTES

yakuza organisations have familial hierarchies in place, so familial terms are often used between members:

aniki – term to address an older brother (or an older male in the organisation, in suo’s case)

anesan –  term to address an older sister; this is used for wives of yakuza members, especially high-ranking members. yakuza do maintain certain principles/ethics, and apparently one is that the wife of another member can’t be touched. this is partly why suo likes to call you his wife (for protection purposes), but he’s also just wants to marry you lol

oyassan – term to address one’s father (or the head of the organisation, in suo’s case)

oyabun –  literally “parent figure” (head of the organisation)

chinpira – rookie yakuza; also used for petty criminals. I got the impression that these guys would be the ones doing street-level grunt work

irezumi – a particular style of tattoos that yakuza members get. they are strongly associated with yakuza membership in Japan (unlike in western countries where people may get them for aesthetic reasons). examples:

han-gure – non-yakuza criminal organisation, which may include delinquents, colour gangs, etc. interestingly, it came up in some of the documentaries that I watched that some people perceive yakuza as necessary evils because they suppress and/or minimise activity by han-gure, which are seen as causing more trouble for civilians.

relating to the ethical code followed (in theory) by yakuza – although yakuza are violent criminals, there are also ideals of chivalrous behaviour and protecting the weak among yakuza. (this is, for example, why yakuza organisations will donate aid/resources during major disasters.) this reminded me quite a bit of bofurin, and I came across some real-life cases where members of the yakuza were previously delinquents, so I thought it was fitting that the yakuza might try to recruit from bofurin in the fic. 

I saw some opinions from older ex-yakuza members that current organisations do not really strive toward these honourable values, and that yakuza are too money-driven these days. I think it made a lot of sense for suo (due to his general disposition and time in bofurin) to adhere very strongly to these ethical codes and endear himself to older gang leaders this way.

one of the reasons that yakuza are nowadays considered less relevant is apparently because japanese policing of petty crime is so strong nowadays. in previous decades, when law enforcement was much weaker, yakuza actually did (or at least, were described to) play a major part in suppressing petty crime or criminal violence toward civilians. this, again, reminded me of bofurin – the police are essentially implied to have given up on makochi, and bofurin formed in order to suppress petty and/or violent crime instead. I assume that this applies to the nearby red light district as well, since roppo-ichiza formed in response to crime on keisei street. it stood to reason to me that this would create a situation where a yakuza family could become extremely socially dominant, and where these old-fashioned ethical codes would actually be quite relevant. this is why suo is so well-known within the red light district and well-respected by his peers.

some yakuza organisations, also as part of an ethical code, do not involve themselves in businesses such as drug trafficking. I didn’t personally come across anything implying that sex trafficking was banned by any ethical codes, but narratively I think it made a lot of sense that suo wants no business with it after what the reader went through. 

on the note of sex trafficking – apparently a lot of sex trafficking and sex work-adjacent professions in japan affect runaway teenage girls specifically, which this reader does qualify as. this is why her backstory got so dark as I was developing the storyline for this yakuza au (I did not initially put her into mizu shobai work for such a narratively significant reason though lol – I just thought the mental image of smuggling three delinquents into the washroom of a girls’ bar was very funny when I was writing Sincerity)

MIZU SHOBAI TERMS/NOTES

Mizu shobai or “water business” – euphemism for certain types of jobs in the entertainment industry, especially those pertaining to nightlife (including girls’ bars and hostess clubs). yakuza are known for their involvement with mizu shobai establishments. 

Girls’ bar – bars where the bartenders are all women, who will make conversation with (male) customers as they serve drinks. 

Hostess bars – bars or clubs where women will accompany individual or groups of (male) customers as they drink, making conversation, singing karaoke, etc. they are not sex workers and are not allowed to have sex with customers (nor is touching generally allowed). in the interest of not misrepresenting this line of work, I want to be very clear that the reader is having sex with her customers not as an industry standard practice, but because something is extremely wrong with her situation (financially, socially, and mentally). 

Douhan – dinner dates that hostesses may go on with customers.

Kyabakura – a portmanteau of “carabaret” and “club”, these are a type of hostess clubs. kyabakura establishments tend to employ younger girls in comparison to high end clubs.

High end clubs – much pricier than kyabakura, with much greater earnings for the hostesses themselves; I got the sense during researching that these tend to be extremely competitive environments for the hostesses.

Mamasan – a “head hostess” who will typically manage girls, and or even manage the club itself. since the reader is working at clubs run by criminal organisations, the mamasans are not the actual owners.

[mostlyghostly42]

worldbuilding websites list

guides/prompts

Fantasy Worldbuilding Questions - SFWA 

Dr. Zahir's Ethnographical Questionnaire - FrathWiki 

University of Auntimoany Ethnographical Questionnaire 

Creature-Race creation sheet by Sethian-Motzart on DeviantArt 

Worldbuilding Bible Template – Ellen Brock 

Guide to World Building - Pantheons — Dump Stat Adventures 

Building a Pantheon: How to Choose Your Gods - Tribality 

Making Gods & Pantheons: Worldbuilding Abstract | Red Ragged Fiend 

I invented this world building system for myself, and it's helped me a lot. Posting it here in case it helps somebody else too! (and because mnemonics are rad) : r/worldbuilding 

Simple Ideas for Your Solarpunk Worlds : r/worldbuilding 

50 Worldbuilding Prompts : r/worldbuilding 

A few months ago I posted a not-so-elegant expansion of the 4-elements system, and got tons of truly excellent feedback. Inspired by the exciting discussions from back then, here is version 2.0! CC appreciated :) : r/worldbuilding 

TheCosmicForces-WoWChronicleSample.png (PNG Image, 1350 × 1800 pixels) — Scaled (37%) 

GitHub - honno/classical-elements-expansion: Because the alchemical elements are so last millennia. 

brownlisthumanuniversals.pdf - Google Drive 

Worldbuilding: Fantasy Religion Design Guide – Inkwell Ideas 

Worldbuilding: Clothing and Fashion | HumanVariant 

A Guide to Conworld Architecture : r/worldbuilding 

Medieval Bestiary : Contents/SiteMap 

kosemen-2017-updated-edition-of-book-all-your-yesterdays.pdf 

Political Simulator 

A World Building Checklist | Articles | cru’s D&D Reading Room 

Split City 

Fantasy name generators. Names for all your fantasy characters. 

word processors/graph makers/visualizers

TiddlyWiki — a non-linear personal web notebook 

bibisco: Best Novel Writing Software for Writers 

Preceden Timeline Maker: Create a Timeline in Minutes 

Timetoast timeline maker | Timetoast timelines 

Free online timeline maker 

draw.io 

Parliament Diagrams 

TreeGraph 2 - A phylogenetic tree editor 

Fantasy Calendar - Level up your narrative 

Family Echo - Free Online Family Tree Maker 

Hero Forge Custom Miniatures 

Tennessine 

Courtney’s Picrew Zone 

Ellipsus | Collaborative writing software 

real world inspiration

The Meaning and History of First Names - Behind the Name 

Geologic Time Scale - Major Divisions of Geologic Time Chart 

Geologic Time Scale v. 6.0 - The Geological Society of America - timescl.pdf 

Travel Through Deep Time With This Interactive Earth | Smithsonian 

ChronostratChart2023-09 - ChronostratChart2023-09.pdf 

ics-chart 

International Commission on Stratigraphy 

Home - Nationalclothing.org 

Folk Fashion Tumblr - Traditional Clothing from the world 

Glossary for Medieval Art and Architecture 

Heraldry Links-A Free Learning Resource 

Flags of the World 

Food Timeline: food history research service 

History of invention: A science and technology timeline 

Medieval Bestiary : Animals in the Middle Ages 

Medieval Life 

Medievalists.net - Where the Middle Ages Begin 

Historical World Maps - World History Atlas 

[ranahan]

Canon Mando’a analysis: project outline

Idk, if anyone is curious about what I’m cooking?

I’ll probably re-title and split and merge and move chapters around several times before I’m happy, but the idea is it might look something like this:

Mando’a Phonology

Appendices

Phonetic transcription of Jesse Harlin’s Republic Commando Soundtrack lyrics

Phonology of Jesse Harlin’s Mando’a: vocabulary, phonemic inventory, phonotactics

Phonetic transcriptions of Karen Traviss’s audio recordings

Comparison of Traviss’ glossary ortography, glossary pronunciation, and recorded pronunciation

Phoneme inventory

Phonotactic analysis

Stress analysis

Not necessarily organised in exactly this fashion, but approximately this content.

Mando’a Morphology

Appendices

Tables (so many tables: roots, affixes, compound noun types & couple of specific issues will be covered, but idk yet how these are going to be organised most logically)

Interlinear gloss of Republic Commando Soundtrack lyrics

Mando’a Derivational Dictionary

Now split apart from Mando’a Morphology

Mando’a Syntax

?

Appendices

Interlinear gloss of Republic Commando Soundtrack lyrics (same as above in Morphology)

Interlinear gloss of Traviss’s published Mando’a sentences

Whoops, my hand slipped? That’s about all I can say for myself. 😂

[fashionbooksmilano]

Jewellery from Art Nouveau to 3D Printing

Alba Cappellieri, editor Valerio Terraroli, design Marcello Falcone

Skira, Milano 2018, 264 pages, 25x29cm, ISBN 978-88-572-373-4

euro 45,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

A chronological compendium of the masterpieces of 20th-century jewelry

Jewellery: From Art Nouveau to 3D Printing presents an extraordinary collection of jewels and jewelers from the start of the 20th century to the present day. The book is a global journey through taste and fashion, taking the reader from France to Russia, from the United States to Italy, from Britain to Germany and from the Netherlands to Scandinavia. Conceived of as an ideal gallery of the masterpieces of 20th-century jewelry, this volume proceeds chronologically. It begins with the Art Nouveau masterpieces of Lalique, Vever and Fouquet, followed by the Art Deco elegance of Cartier, Boucheron, Tiffany, Mario Buccellati and Fabergé. After World War II, Van Cleef & Arpels and Bulgari's whimsical inventions of the 1950s share space with the designs of the Dutch avant-garde and the artist's jewels of the 1960s. The book closes with the new millennium, with the intermingling of art and design and the introduction of new technologies like 3D printing, wearable technology and new modes of distribution and communication. A brilliant historical-critical essay by designer and academic Alba Cappellieri introduces the magnificent selection of pictures, and the objects are accompanied by thorough technical explanations and an exhaustive glossary. Beautifully produced and comprehensively researched, Jewellery: From Art Nouveau to 3D Printing promises to be an indispensable tool for the specialist, the collector and the jewelry-lover alike.

02/11/24

[disenchantedif]

How active are the Ro’s on Owler? (Just typing that word made me so giddy, it’s such a fun one)

Glossary: Owler - Twitter, Hoot - Tweet, Rehoot - Retweet

Viktor: Mostly rehoots pottery stuff, sometimes makes sarcastic remarks to Theo’s dumb hoots.

Theo: Loves posting shade at certain people and dumb stories that don’t sound believable but are 100% true.

Charlie: Rehoots Theo’s shade posts just to stir the pot. Also posts about what they’re currently reading and what’s on their TBR.

Amri: Rehoots news to do with corruption in general. Drags their family on the regular, especially their dad. Also rehoots any and every tweet that calls MC hot once you meet.

Cameron: Usually just rehoots obscure sorcery documents and pictures of cute animals. Will occasionally fall for Theo’s bait and end up in an argument.

Luci: They’re barely active and mostly use their account to lurk. They rehoot Cameron’s animal posts occasionally.

Penny: New to Owler and posts the weirdest hoots about what gosh she prefers eating. No, Theo, she’s not talking about sushi. Also rehoots random fashion posts she likes.

Harlow: Private account that barely follows anyone and hardly ever posts.

Avery: Has an account under their Canadian alias that Charlie follows. Mostly hoots pictures of the local scenery and the cute pasties the cafe they work at sells.

???: They’re non-corporeal to start off so they can’t exactly hold a phone, but they would love to help you write your hoots.