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dragonkink2014-10-01 08:14 pm
dragonmod) wrote in dragonkink2014-10-01 08:14 pm
Dragon Ball Kink Meme
Hello and welcome back to the Dragon Ball/Z/GT kink meme! ✌
Before we start, please read everything below!
Before we start, please read everything below!
RULES AND GUIDELINES:
- Please behave yourself. Try to get along with others and avoid unnecessary fights. Just because you're posting anonymously it doesn't mean you get a free pass at being an ass. Feel free to take things to the discussion post but keep it out of the actual meme.
- One prompt per comment.
- Use subject lines! They help keep things organize and people can filter out what they don't like. They should look like this:
- SUBJECT: Character A/Character B - Kink A, Kink B + a trigger warning if applicable
- EXAMPLE:
- Art is welcomed here as well!
- We're mainly a kink meme but SFW prompts are fine as well.
- Don't kink shame. If you're here, you probably have a few kinks yourself. Ignore the prompts you don't like and carry on. This is a judge-free zone!
- Feel free to repost unfilled prompts from the previous kink meme, but don't repost prompts from the current meme.
- In the same vein, you can fill prompts from the previous meme. Just be sure to link to said prompt before starting and you're good to go!
- Once you fill a prompt, please head to the fills post and share the link!
More Bulma/Vegeta/Yamcha
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 01:28 am (UTC)(link)For the story, please go with canon and have Vegeta be the dad.
Remember Part 1
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:12 am (UTC)(link)She heard him break something, and hoped it was expensive. “Did you not learn from the first time?”
Bulma stretched out in her lab, limbs seeking tables and a bent stool, glad that she had sent the ‘first time’ out to get ice cream with his best friend. She had given him an advance on his allowance, and it could be days before she saw him again. Thank Dende.
“How could you not use protection?! Oh my god, how are you so bad at that?”
No, honestly, seriously, nothing had changed. She wasn’t thirty-something and aware of those three years and feeling those three years and the last two desperate sweaty confused weeks and years and years of off-and-on again. Forget the stretch marks and fear of sagging, the deeper creases in that broad forehead (vegeta, how?) and sudden brief touch of goddamn grey in that black wild hair that had struck her heart (oh yamcha, no), no, they were still so young and stupid.
It had been for old-time’s sake.
“Are you even able to get pregnant?”
“I’m going to tell Vegeta!”
“Whose he going to be more mad at, you or me?”
“You.” She was adamant. “Probably you.”
Oh, but Vegeta hadn’t been pissed at either at them that night. He’d been smirky and confident. A man in his prime, still trim, all the more gifted with experience than the first time. He’d hardly protested when she’d leaned in close too Yamcha and smiled at her husband. Want to try something fun? Remember how good it was last time?
Never mind the freaking out, the stack of pregnancy tests, the humiliating one at the end when blood was taken and Vegeta cursed not murdering them all so many times before. They were adults and in the fullness of life could appreciate it this time as they hadn’t last time.
“Look.” Bulma Brief’s could only wish she had only said this once in her life. “I need you to come in and take a paternity test.”
Remember Part 2
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:19 am (UTC)(link)She needed only to punch in another number in her phone. Last time, she had dragged Goku in to act as a non-human shield and keep Vegeta from blowing up the planet or just pushing her down the stairs. This time, she would do it because she wanted to hear someone happy and just glad to be on this planet.
He answered his phone for once.
It was a sign. The universe was done pissing her off. She leaned into the phone’s warm clammy surface. “Goku. I have some news.”
Her friend stopped chattering about turnips, his sons and perfectly adorable grandchild and how Chi-Chi was, and some farming game score. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s big.” She blew air between her teeth. “I’m going to need your help with something here.”
Between the flying powers and his instant transportation, Bulma should have prepared herself better. Taken something or had a singular glass of red wine for her nerves. A bubble bath and manicure. She could have told her mother and reassured herself with the fact that Trunks was a strong, healthy perfect boy and this one would just as great a miracle as he was. If they had wide guileless brown eyes or beedy black ones or her lovely blue ones, it would be a marvel. So long as the baby had her brains, everything would be right in the world.
But Goku had some amazing time. He brought his whole Dende-damn family. He brought Krillin’s family. They sat eating finger food and making small talk as she hyperventilated in her own personal hell. At least she didn’t need to pee every five minutes. Not yet.
Then he had the nerve to tilt his head while she tried to strangle him in the kitchen. “You said—you said—you had big news and needed help!”
“You dumb monkey! I needed you to come here and restrain Vegeta. I have…I do have big news…”
She let him go and was disappointed when he bounded back up, hair all the more wild than normal. “What’s wrong with Vegeta?”
He’s crazy! He’s going to freak out when I say I’m pregnant and not sure who the dad is, again! He’s gone crazy and is going to say that we had a threesome with Yamcha but that’s nuts! Don’t listen to him. “I need your help.”
Then he was Goku, older, mature, able to withstand anything and with two kids on his own. He had a driver’s license. He, Chi-Chi had told her, exalted, over white wine spritzers, had once tried to do their taxes. The fact that the forms had somehow gotten set on fire didn’t matter. She had known him for over two decades now, and they had met when she had tried to commit a hit-and-run and he had thought her a witch. If she couldn’t rely on Son Goku, what hope could there be of facing all of this? “Whatever you need Bulma.”
What the hell; Goku would have forgotten the whole mess that had happened the first time. “I have to have another paternity test done. I’m pregnant and the Dad might be Vegeta. Or Yamcha.”
“Again!? Oh man, you’re not sure who the dad is for this one either! Wow, Bulma. Congrats on the baby though!” His smile was coming back. He barely had time to dodge the frying pan Bulma was suddenly wielding.
“Tell the entire world why don’t you! What, isn’t it bad enough I have to get another one of these tests done just to figure out who the dad is? You think it wasn’t humiliating enough the first time!” Oh, but it wasn’t Goku she really wanted to smack even as she chased him into the living room, it was herself three months ago who had calmly tossed aside the diaphragm and disregarded the option of condoms. It was going to be one last wild moment, and precautions were for the young and foolish who didn’t know about better.
The blue-haired scientist didn’t care about breaking a cooking instrument on Goku’s head in front of his family and friends, but she didn’t become horribly aware of how loud they had both been. And how thin these walls could be. She peered through her neatly trimmed blue fringe of hair at all these people she considered family.
Remember Part 3
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:24 am (UTC)(link)Bulma had gotten over her weariness and was (mostly) over her fascination, but all that made things worse. She and Eighteen were friends. They babysat. They discussed clothing and their spouses. Eighteen was interesting and oddly normal, and never competed and considering who she was married to, practically like a little sister to Bulma. She had cool blonde hair to go with that cool smile, and never seemed to age. Bulma…Bulma wanted the cyborg to respect her and take her advice on shoes. Not sit there, mouth open, understanding everything and find it disgusting.
Chi-Chi had ever reason to judge. She had a grandkid that was going to be older. Bulma could understand. But still hated that way she sniffed and smiled around her tea cup. She hated the snide congrats, but did cheer up when Chi-Chi offered to host the baby shower.
Goku glanced around from under the dented pan he wore over his face. “C’mon, Bulma. It’ll be okay.” He made a motion to hug her, and missed by a good foot.
“No. Yes. Maybe.”
Krillin clasped his hands and looked at his wife. “I would like to leave five minutes ago.”
“I thought she just wanted to plan a birthday party for Trunks,” Eighteen said, abashed.
So normal. Bulma envied their sane lives of living with disgusting perverts and talking pigs and turtles and being a cyborg created to kill Goku and not having a nose and dying three times. She wished on them another month of Eighteen’s twin brother coming to stay with them with his own family, and perhaps Bulma’s other future son to come back and point out again and again how messed up it was that Krillin had married a woman that had killed them all. Let Krillin fuck up with the birth control and let Eighteen maybe gain weight during that pregnancy.
Her mother came in, baring more cakes and more tea, “Oh, dear, again? Well. The important thing is that the baby is healthy.”
It was her mother, Bulma could reflect, not her brilliant, absent-minded father that had prepared her for all this craziness, to think that the dragon balls were more than a myth, believe that you could meet a good, normal man going on life-risking adventures and furthermore, you can pull off a perm.
When the door knocked, Bulma was not surprised.
When it was Yamcha, pale beneath his tan and scars, she was further unsurprised. The universe did love to try and pull Bulma Brief down. It wanted to humble her. But she would not have it. She would not. She could look at this man, her old boyfriend and good friend, and say it, “If it’s a boy, we are not naming it ‘Wolf.’”
Remember Part 4
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:26 am (UTC)(link)“Goku told them all about it.”
The orange-clad man managed to pull the pan away. He was a contrite dog shuffling with that tail tucked away. “I’m sorry, Bulma.” Yamcha and Goku shared a bro nod.
“I’m sorry I didn’t knock whatever brains you have out,” Bulma retorted, but without fire.
“Do…do you want us to stick around?” Eighteen asked. She looked like she’d gladly run out the building, but here she was.
Chi-Chi huffed. But not at Eighteen or at Bulma. “Vegeta will learn to live with this kid, no matter who the father is.”
“I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl? Oh, I hope you get a girl,” Mom twilled.
“Yeah.” Krillin was smiling that good ol’ reassuring smile, full of his everlasting humor with the raised eyebrows. “I mean, I’m sure he’s used to this by now.”
“Shut up, loser,” Bulma said, but didn’t really mean it.
Yamcha began to dry-heave. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again.”
Bulma could still sass. “That’s not what you said last time.”
Everyone shared a grossed-out laugh that turned to winces. But gradually. Krillin took another muffin and Chi-Chi refilled her cup and began discussing names that could be used. When should they throw the baby shower. Was Bulma feeling well? She should sit down and eat something. And Bulma could sit there at the front of the table, being offered and served cupcakes and fresh, decaffeinated coffee and babysitting offers. All this for their Queen.
Her family was pretty great. Take that, universe.
Together, okay, all together, they would tell her husband that he was going to be a father again. Maybe they could all shout it and then run away. Say it all together now, like they would for birthdays and karaoke.
They would crowd around the Saiyan Prince as he sat fresh from training and tried to drink water and not act disturbed by everyone standing around him, staring, taking in his every action. The man looked so innocent there at the table where they had shared a surprising amount of meals day after day. “Have you come for a rematch, Kakarrotte?” he tried.
“No.” Goku stared, unabashed.
“So, Vegeta…how do you feel about getting whole nights rests?” Krillin asked. “I hope you liked those. I hope you savored them.”
Remember Part 5
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:28 am (UTC)(link)“You wanted us here.”
“Not to take pictures,” she hissed.
“Does this mean I can leave?” Yamcha tried. “Maybe this should really be between you two.”
“Okay, guys. I just need a second.” Her posse would be right there, in the next room over. She could handle this. Chi-Chi was already planning on knitting booties. Her mother used highly unscientific means of guessing the gender. Krillin was already buckling under the requests for babysitting.
“Vegeta.” I love you. You know that, don’t you, you jackass. I love you so much. That, after all the other crap that had happened, was so little. “I’m pregnant.”
But Vegeta’s reaction was to look at her, mouth open. Eyes black glass, as pitiless and clear as the span between the stars. Then he threw back his head and began to laugh. “No, no, woman, I will not believe this.”
“You’re going to be a dad again,” Bulma told him.
“That’s not…” But he was moving passed denial. Passed rage and bargaining and even depression. Perhaps he would double-back, but not now. He was going to be the father of two children. He and Bulma would have a second child and if Mom was right, it was going to be a little girl. There would be more Saiyans. A shiver ran through him, and Bulma believed Vegeta would rise and maybe even hug her. Maybe even smile and say while sober and with no threat of a dramatic death hanging over them, that he loved her too. He would believe her. And he would like it too.
Goku came bounding back in, the puppy covered in mud and dog shit all over your new white furniture. “Yeah. I mean. Maybe it’s Yamcha’s too. But that would be neat too!”
You know, after the stress, all that red meat, and his age, maybe Bulma should have given her husband some beta blockers. Aspirin once a day and red wine in moderation. She vowed to cut back on smoking and aiming the second-hand fume purposely in his direction. Her husband did make a desperate grab for his heart, then let it go. He let a lot of things go, like all the muscles in his face. Only Vegeta’s blinking reassured her that he still lived.
She looked into those beedy black eyes, and hoped this baby would have them. “Yeah. It’s from that night. And yeah. Everyone knows.”
Vegeta bared teeth.
Goku took a step back. Then he hid behind Bulma.
Remember Part 6 (Finished)
(Anonymous) 2016-10-06 04:30 am (UTC)(link)His chin could literally crack cement. “It will not be a Saiyan.”
“Oh, Vegeta. Shut up.”
He blinked, rearranged, finding his muscles again.
“You said that about Trunks.”
“This child may be fully human,” he hissed.
“Well. You should have told me to wrap it up.”
Bulma watched her husband briefly struggle with the urge to cover his face with those gloved hands. “You told those fools?”
“I wanted backup.” She met his gaze. I should have just talked to you. Oh, Vegeta. I’m sorry. “I have to say, I’m glad you didn’t run away to space like last time.”
She really wished Goku wasn’t still here, cowering.
“We’re okay though. Aren’t we? Of course we are. It was your idea this time.”
Vegeta gave into the urge and covered his face. “Woman, you have put me through enough.”
“You love it.” Her smile was tight. She loved him, she even loved the sudden flicker in his eyes, because she was right. His fear, his every emotion, was to be understood and savored, shared. Bulma didn’t regret that night and could nearly picture the small child hidden away. “And you’re going to love this baby. You’re going to love them so much.”
Goku dug a finger into his ear. “Guys, I’m glad you’re not fighting, but I just wish you didn’t ask me to be here. This seems kind of personal, ya’ know.”
“Get the hell out.”
He left too, fled, but then returned with Yamcha in his maw. “I think everyone’s going well!”
Bulma pulled out the too-familiar needle. “Well, time to find out.”
Yamcha winced at the murderous stare, but still managed to sit and roll up his sleeves. Déjà vu was tragic. What had happened again probably wouldn’t happen again, at least not without birth control. Bulma took a personal vow on that, and promised literally on the life of their third child (barring no twins) that she would be more diligent. Goku finished off the rest of the cupcakes. After the advertised time posted on the little box passed, their big and growing family looked at the results, together.
“I think,” Bulma told Vegeta. “I have a name for the baby if it’s a girl.”
Re: More Bulma/Vegeta/Yamcha
(Anonymous) 2016-10-23 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)I just read through the old meme recently and found all the stories with this pairing kind of funny and interesting. It's something you don't see all the time. Now I think that Yamcha is some kind of fertility charm for the Saiyans.