let me complete the ship: top 5 Vegas kinks for the meme
actually got this one requested twice! now let's see here
sharps. I don't think it's the specific implement that matters here as much as the edge, pun intended. It can be knives, it can be claws, piercings probably...all good, all fun, the risk is part of the joy.
electroplay. I feel like this is almost too on the nose but also. I don't think it has to be a car battery. probably not going to fly with Pete specifically at least for a while but who knows. Vegas is holding it in reserve.
overstimulation. It's something about the warping of something pleasurable into pain, I think. About taking something that can and does feel good and amping it up to the point where it's too much, overwhelming.
predicament bondage. I mean, I think restraints in general are good for Vegas but there's something I think would be particularly fun about manufacturing a situation where someone is choosing between two painful options and it's just a question of which one they're going to go with, or, rather, end up in.
impact play. There's some ways in which this is. like. dicey at times because of trauma associations and especially when it comes to Pete it's something to be careful around, but I still think Vegas is into it. Again, less about the specific tools though I'm sure he has preferences.
this is an incomplete list by necessity. I could keep going. there's a lot of overlap with Pete's too, I think, and in general a pretty broad range of what he's into
beesarealiens: “can you just kiss me? one last time? that’s all i...
nooo you can’t just leave it like thIS
dw the next time he sees wwx, he decides he’s going to treat him with the proper respect a soulmate (who saved his life btw!) deserves; wwx is surprised and touched and the two of them finally start to get to know each other :):):):)
um. UM. how about everyone's favourite purveyor of magical items, a mister Shaun Gilmore? (mayyybe with Vax?? maybe???)
(I am completely blanking on tropes besides "snowed in" btw I would just like to see you write something)
Thank you for an excellent prompt, friend! There always needs to be more Gilmore! (and also Vax. Both, both is good) And I can work with that trope! ;) Here’s some canon divergence where Vax’s emotional confessions jumped the other way and everything is just very warm, set during the Chroma Conclave arc.
The streets of Whitestone are heavily weighed down with snow.
Gilmore lets his curtain fall back into place, the hushed white of the snow and soft glow of lanterns lingering past his glimpse.
“Well, it doesn’t look like you’re going much of anywhere tonight,” Gilmore drawls, glancing over his shoulder at Vax. “I think it might be a bit of rough terrain even for you.”
Vax laughs, crosslegged and cradling a fine porcelain cup in his fine, slender hands. It’s strange still to see him mostly out of armor, feathered cuirass and vambraces and greaves strapped over tall leather boots, snake-belt and daggers ever-present in these days.
“Does that mean you’ll let me stay?” Vax asks with a tilted smile, but there’s something a little hesitant, a little vulnerable hovering in his features alongside the teasing.
“But of course!” Gilmore says, waving a hand as he resumes his seat at the low table, reaching for his own cup of tea. It’s warm, fragrant and full-bodied, a delicately floral blend brewed strong. “You’re always welcome here, you know.”
Even, Gilmore means, when the days are long and they’re both exhausted and worn. And Gilmore is constantly exhausted and worn these days, the stress of maintaining the shielding spell draining so much of his energy. Abjuration was never his specialty, but Allura’s skills and influences are versatile enough that she needs to be freer, and if this is what Gilmore can do to protect this new, fragile home, then maintain a barrier he shall.
If it means that there’s a weight off Vox Machina’s mind and a place for them to return to, then Gilmore feels it even more necessary.
(It puts him in uncomfortable sympathy with J’mon sa Ord, whose grandeur even in worn memory makes Gilmore’s elegance feel like thin gilt, to even attempt to imagine protecting an entire metropolis for an age on the weight of only one being’s power.)
“You’re a generous man, Shaun,” Vax says softly. So, so softly. This man is so soft under all his steel and sharp edges, a dark, plush silk velvet that’s an unexpected and welcome luxury. His dark brown eyes are gentle, like Gilmore is something precious to behold.
Gilmore chuckles and winks at Vax, fond. He reaches over, lets his hand come to rest on Vax’s knee. “Nonsense, I’m clearly hoarding your time while I have it.”
That startles a laugh from Vax, who sets one hand, warm from his cup of tea, on top of Gilmore’s. “I’m happy to oblige, then.”
He’s quiet, still for a few moments, then abruptly sets down his cup, withdraws his hands to start working at the buckles of a vambrace. He slants a glance up at Gilmore, mouth quirked in a wry, playful smile. “If I’m staying, I think I can take all this fucking armor off for now.”
“Oh, well,” Gilmore replies, amused and teasingly lascivious, and laughs when he gets a wink in return. “Can I offer you something more comfortable, then?”
Vax agrees, and Gilmore rises, waves a hand to set water to boiling in his small kitchen as he retreats into his bedroom in search of a robe.
It’s too cold for silk, probably, but Gilmore keeps his fire going well into the night, and it’s no shame to indulge someone he cares for deeply. Someone who, given all the furor of the dragons and desperate fights, gets very little indulgence. Gilmore excels in extravagance, after all.
He returns to the main room, offers the robe out to Vax, who is nearly out of his half-armor and takes it with a swift, thankful smile, before passing back into the kitchen to make up another pot of tea.
The kitchen is warm and Gilmore is, quite suddenly, very worn out, the sort of bone deep exhaustion of knowing that he’ll have to spend the morning reinforcing the barrier, but he’s trying to let tonight stand on its own. Something precious, a reprieve.
These aren’t the circumstances he expected for a new, budding romance, only barely and tentatively affirmed with a sweet late-night kiss when Emon fell to Thordak. Still, and even so, Gilmore can’t regret it or wish to change it. It’s all the more dear for how close they came to losing it (how close they’ve come to dying).
He heaves a sigh and runs a hand through his own dark hair, sweeping it back from his face, and collects himself just enough to push back the weariness.
Vax looks up as Gilmore enters, his leathers folded neatly to the side, and watches him with painfully obvious fondness as Gilmore sits down again.
“Thank you,” Vax says, still quiet, the way he goes quiet when it’s just them, in the sincere and intimate moments where he lets himself be someone quiet and fond. Transparent.
Gilmore waves off the thanks, even if he’s warm with being adored and appreciated so deeply, and refills both of their cups. He brushes a touch to Vax’s shoulder as he settles back. “It’s the least I could do as your host, Vax’ildan.”
“Still,” Vax says, and shrugs, smile clinging to the edges of his expressive mouth. The midnight blue of the silk is a good color for him, warm against the soft brown of his skin, curved over his slender shoulders and sparking faintly with glimmers of silver embroidery.
He’s lovely, always lovely, but lovelier still relaxed like this. He’s let his hair down, freed from the braids and twists that keep it out of his way, and it spills like a midnight river down past the small of his back. Impractically, impossibly long.
Oh, does Gilmore love him.
Gilmore loves him with all the easily-bruised depths of his too large, too grand heart, loves him boisterous and hushed, in their easy banter and the fragile, earnest breathlessness of fear they’re both too shy of to speak easily. Gilmore loves him recklessly, would fight a dragon for this man, clings to the fluttering hope of a future past the end of all this, imagines offering up the secrets he tried to leave behind across the sea - all of them.
For so long, he’s held everyone and everything at arm’s length. Oh, Gilmore doesn’t dare discount his own unexpected bravery, or Sherri, or darling Vex’ahlia or really any of the rest of Vox Machina. The loss of his shop and a sovereign, the unexpected joy of a newly deepened friendship with Allura and Kima both, Whitestone with all its damages and fierce hope, even the strain and challenge of a barrier that keeps away dragon-sight.
But this is something he’s glad for, breathless and astounded, and Gilmore has no words to give him.
Vax, not privy to all his wild thoughts, sips his tea and scoots over, easily tactile, to lean against Gilmore’s side. He lifts his free hand, brushes the backs of his knuckles almost idly over the line of Gilmore’s jaw with an unguarded look.
Gilmore laughs, affectionate, and in the undoubtedly brief lull of conversation, slides an arm around Vax, who shifts instinctively to accommodate him.
It’s a still and silent night, the streets’ usual sounds dampened with snowfall, and only the faintly crackling fire in here, warm and dim.
It’s an unexpected reprieve and a welcome one.
Gilmore rests his jaw against the thick softness of Vax’s dark hair and closes his eyes to savor this.
Thanks to everyone who replied to my post from last night. :D I kinda crashed right after posting it, hence the late replies...
jaxoline replied to your post “Augh, my eyes!”
Yes, i have this too! It definitely makes it hard to drive at night... I just assumed it was some kind of mildish night blindness... :(
Yeah it sucks, doesn’t it. :-/
I’ve gone and done a little poking to see what causes photophobia, and found two unexpected causes which actually seem to make sense: poor binocular vision and accommodation. I know I have focusing problems owing the vast difference in nearsightedness in my right and left eye, and it’s been that way for almost as long as I can remember the light problems, so maybe that’s something to be looked into a little more...
beesarealiens replied to your post “Augh, my eyes!”
that sounds like photophobia, have you talked to a doc? cause you definitely need at least some kinda special sunglasses
My optometrist was the one who suggested the transition lenses actually, haha. I think I need to go back and tell him, no, they’re not cutting off enough light. [Maybe he should’ve prescribed Vantablack...]
asokatanos replied to your post “Augh, my eyes!”
This happens to me too! I tried sunglasses but it makes the dark stuff dangerously dark. Anti glare glasses were the best I could figure
allpowerfulspacewitch replied to your post “Augh, my eyes!”
Amber or yellow lenses may help. I have lenses with the blue protection coating, the lenses actually look purplish, & that's helped a lot for me at night.
esrescuer replied to your post “Augh, my eyes!”
You need amber colored lenses for night driving. I wear amber tinted glasses when I drive day or night, it cuts the harsh glare of light especially at night with on coming headlights.
I’ve heard of amber/yellow lenses, but didn’t personally know anyone who used it. That.... could work, maybe! I should ask my optometrist about them the next time I pay him a visit. Cheers!
superdividuus reblogged your post and added:
I have had a lot of issues with this. A few things I have noticed that help me: -Rather than transition lenses, get a pair of prescription sunglasses. Wrap around are the best for protection of sensitive eyes. Carry them ALL the time. I actually started using a purse/bag just for this reason. -Get a normal pair of glasses with anti glare coating for night driving. It is amazing the difference. -Keep glasses cleaner and microfiber cloth in your car. -Use the squeegee at the gas station as much as you can. Also, keep your wipers in good shape and wiper fluid full. That will help with the glare a lot. -Clean the windows on the inside of your car every couple months. -I also have learned to slightly look to the side when driving at night. Not a lot but just enough to lessen the direct light into my eyes. -As a FU to people who have their bright lights on behind me or trucks/taller vehicles tailgating me, I move my side mirror on the driver side out word and upward so the lights from their car hit them. People back off real quick or finally have the balls to pass. Hope this helps! Good luck and take care of your eyes!
Thanks! I do actually have prescription sunglasses - I’d been using them before switching to transitions, and the reason I went with the latter was because I hated having too many pairs of glasses. (That, and the prescription ones were nowhere near dark enough, even though they were the darkest lens the opto had). But wraparounds that go *over* my current pair... that might work. Also, I.... obviously don’t clean my windshield enough, LOL. Something that needs to be remedied. (I don’t think I’ve ever cleaned the insides of my windows....).
[Also - flashing high beam idiots back with side mirrors is BOSS and I definitely need to try that.]
@beesarealiens We do! There's at least a couple I know of. No creeps, no douchey bros, all the trainers are women, it's just easier to go and just do your best? Less intimidating, at least for me. I'm excited about the yoga, spinning and dance classes!
beesarealiens replied to your post “Last night’s D&D”
*_* BEAUTIFUL
IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL. It started off with our carefully-constructed ambush being ruined because the guys we were trying to ambush set the building we’d set it up in on fire and smoked us out, so we were caught in an alley with a burning building at our back, a fire elemental blocking the alley to either side of us, and cultists behind each of them backing them up.
And it then turned into three hours of my wizard misty-stepping out of reach of everyone who attempted to get close to her and raining hell down on everyone around her.
“Okay I am going to mistystep away from this guy and move up here and then I am going to pull out my WAND OF MOTHERFUCKING AQUAJET and hit them BOTH with it.” “...remind me what that does?” “IT IS A FIRE HOSE. IT’S A THIRTY FOOT SPRAY AND THEY TAKE BLUDGEONING DAMAGE AND THEY HAVE TO MAKE A DEX SAVE OR ELSE BE THROWN TWENTY FEET BACK AND KNOCKED PRONE.” “Oh yeah, okay. So that happens--” “DO THEY TAKE EXTRA DAMAGE BECAUSE IT’S A /FIRE HOSE/ AND THEY ARE /FIRE/?” “Yes, actually, they take twice that amount in cold damage as well.” “GOOD.” “Right, okay, Sariel, so now it’s your turn again--” “I’MMA DO IT AGAIN. AND THIS TIME I’M GOING TO USE THE TWO SIXES THAT I ROLLED FOR PORTENT THIS MORNING TO MAKE THEM BOTH FAIL THEIR DEX SAVES, MOTHERFUCKERS.” “O-- oh my god. So, they both die.” “DO THEY SLAM BACK INTO THAT CULTIST FIFTEEN FEET BEHIND THEM AND IGNITE HIM BEFORE THEY DIE? IF THEY FAIL THEIR DEX SAVE THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THROWN TWENTY FEET BACK.” “....technically yes that would happen. /Jesus christ./”
Vegas shook himself. There was no point feeling sorry for himself right now, not when he had bigger problems. “So I guess you don’t know what’s going on either.”
Kinn’s frown deepened. “No. They were wearing masks. It was well-executed, though. Professional.”
“That’s reassuring,” Vegas said. “At least we haven’t been kidnapped by amateurs.”
