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As the nights get longer (or shorter for you southerners), thereâs no better time to start planning those long vacations for next year. And what better way to do that than with your very own 2020 Vegebul calendar!!!
@ladyvegeets and @jadefyre have worked together with 13 artists to bring you a 12âłx12âł PG-13 pin-up inspired calendar with new original never-before-seen art of our favorite power couple!
See 13 full-color pieces of art from: @evartandadam, @frauleinpflaume, @lem0uro, @vegeebs, @okebtrash, @rutbisbe, @little-honeyeater, @greatrageshortlegs, Nala1588, FunSexyDragonBall, @itsmandymo, @vegetapsycho, & @duvete.
The calendar is $28 USD + shipping. (Yes, we do ship internationally, although postal fees are a bit spendy and it could take a few weeks to reach you. But it is an option.)
Weâll only be taking pre-orders for a couple of weeks, as weâll need to get this item printed and shipped out ASAP so it can reach you before the new year. So please order yours before theyâre gone!
Vegeta is always quiet in his corner, fiddling with his drawing tablet or reading a book. While being arrogant he caught the attention of Bulma and Goku.
Plot: Vegeta is a transfer student who seems to dislike anyone. He does not seem to have friends at the new school. For problems in adapting he will stop in the detention room where he meets Bulma and Goku, who, in the same way that he Vegeta, has problems adapting with the other students.
Bulma the rich and super intelligent girl.
Goku the martial arts champion obsessed by training.
Vegeta fighting champion, in military school, obsessed by training and reading (he draws)
Bonus: Yamcha - from the School Baseball Team (Bulma's womanizer and "boyfriend") -Â Chichi from the home economics club (Goku's "girlfriend" and student leader)
Chapter Summary: Bulma is easily besting Vegeta in all academic endeavors, and he is pissed. However, as much as he outwardly claims to despise her, a certain incident makes the rumor mill go wild, and both may find themselves being the unwilling centers of the high school student body's attention.
A Vegebul High School AU inspired by this fanart by @okebtrash. âş
-For all those asking for more Edible. Inspired by @okebtrashâs adorable picture of Bulla patching up her papa with bandages.-
Read Edible on AO3 or FFnet.Â
~xox~
Vegeta stared down at the beautiful woman he â by some stroke of luck â called his wife. Bulma lay sprawled beneath him. The soft glow of morning highlighted the rise and fall of her chest, flushed cheeks, and matted hair. âThoroughly fuckedâ was one of his favorite looks on her.
The column of her throat beckoned. He leaned in to kiss it while contemplating an encore.Â
âMmm,â she sighed sleepily.
Ah, he knew that tone. She was exhausted, even now her breathing was evening out. What time had she come to bed? He couldnât recall, having fallen asleep waiting up for her.Â
Damn. Perhaps waking her up so early for this wasnât the best of ideas.
He gently pushed off. She made a half-hearted sound of protest as he wiped her clean, but was half-way asleep by the time he tucked her in under the blankets. With a final kiss to her brow, Vegeta pried himself away, ignoring the instinct to stay and watch over his mate.
He headed for the spare bathroom by the kidsâ rooms so as not to disturb Bulmaâs sleep while he cleaned up. Along the way, hushed voices caught his attention. He slowed to a halt.
Trunks and Bra were coming down the opposite end of the corridor, the older boy bent to whisper in his little sisterâs ear. ââjust remember, donât tell Dad orââ
âDonât tell me what?â
Trunks froze, the color draining from his face.Â
âPapa!â His daughterâs face lit up and she came dashing towards him. âIâm BLEEDING!â
What?! For a sickening moment, Vegeta couldnât breathe.
âBra, you snitch.â Trunks slapped a hand over his face with a groan.Â
Bra came to a halt by his boots and raised her skirt to show off her bleeding knee. A tiny wound. But the impression it left was huge. Vegeta scooped her up before laying murderous eyes on his son, the same glare he had leveled enemies with. âBoy, you have five seconds to explain yourself before I send you to the afterlife.â
âDad, câmon. We were playing outside and she tripped. No big deal, I swear.â
âTunks says I might get a scar like you, Papa!â Bra announced excitedly.
âBra!â Trunks hissed with desperation, begging her to stop making the situation worse.
Vegeta tightened his fingers over his daughter. âOh, he better hope you donât. Trunks, go make breakfast. Your mother worked late last night, so youâd best be quiet. Iâll deal with your lack of common sense regarding the care of your sister later.â
Trunks made a sour face but dragged himself off to the kitchen without further protest. Vegeta shifted Braâs weight in his arms, brushing back her fly-away hair. âLetâs get you fixed up.â
âOkay.â
He carried her to the bathroom and set her on the sink. âIs this the only place youâre hurt?â he asked, looking at the graze on her knee. It was already scabbing over. Thank you Saiyan genes.Â
âUh-huh.â
Such a wound for a Saiyan was inconsequential, but he wasnât about to take any chances with his little girl. He cleaned the wound and dug around in the cabinet, pulling out a box of all-purpose band-aids.Â
âNuh-uh, not dose ones. I wannit the ones with the staw-bees!â
Vegeta sighed and kept searching.
âPapa?â
âHn?â
âYou have lotsa scars.â
Glancing down, he saw Bra scrutinizing his torso. It was the same look Bulma gave when puzzling out a malfunctioning invention.
âDid you fall down too?â his daughter inquired.
If anyone else accused him of tripping over, Vegeta would have ended them. Permanently. But Braâs world-view was small and innocent. She meant no insult, and she certainly couldnât comprehend the suffering or horror that he had endured and inflicted to earn his scars. Like hell he was going to ruin that innocence just yet.Â
ââŚSomething like that.â
âOh⌠Youâre really clumsy, Papa.â
His cheek twitched. Thankfully Bulma wasnât around to hear that one; he never would have lived it down.Â
âSo it would seem. But whatâs important is that I picked myself up again. Every time.â
Her little brow furrowed with contemplation. âYou didnât cry?â
A few unpleasant memories resurfaced. ââŚOnly when it really mattered.â
She fell silent, and he resumed his search for the bandaids.
Ah. Finally. A box of bandaids with cartoon strawberries smiling obscenely at him was tucked away in the far back corner. Someone really needed to organize this cabinet better. Vegeta dug it out and peeled open a plaster, smoothing it over his daughterâs knee.
âHowâs that?â
Bra lifted her leg to examine his handiwork. âItâs crooked.â
âThen fall more symmetrically next time.â
She laughed, her whole face lighting up. At least someone got his sense of humor. The sound was infectious, wriggling under his skin and easing the tension in his body he wasnât aware he carried.Â
Despite himself, he smiled back. âAlright, Princess. Letâs go check on your brother.â
âOkay.â She made grabby hands, and Vegeta picked her up. As they walked towards the kitchen, her chubby fingers traced a scar on his shoulder.
âPapa, did your Papa help fixit your hurts too?â
His mouth thinned. His father? Now that was an old wound. Time had mostly healed it over but it still stung when dug at. âNo, he didnât.â
Couldnât.
Or wouldnât.
A side-glance found Bra watching him with big blue eyes. He stopped his thoughts before they ruined the morning.Â
âWhat do you think Mommy would like for breakfast?â
Bra gasped and bounced in his arms, excited to know the answer. âStaw-bee pancakes!â
Vegeta smiled and carried her off to the kitchen as she chanted the words over and over.
~xox~
 Bra wasnât watching where she put her spoon. It missed her mouth, smearing mashed sweet potato over her cheek. She rubbed the mess away with the back of her hand, eyes fixed on her parents.Â
Papa sat on a kitchen stool, his face as grumpy as the troll in her Saturday morning cartoons, only the troll didnât usually bleed bright red from a cut on his brow. Mommy was sewing up Papaâs hurt. he didnât look happy about it, but still he allowed her to fix him. After all, Mommy was very good at fixing broken things; she had fixed her toys more than once.
âCanât you and Son ever go easy on each other?â Bulma asked.
âTch. That is not how true warriors train. Besides, I gave Kakarot as good as I got, and more.â
âYeah, yeah.âÂ
Bra adjusted her spoon and this time found her mouth. Blergh. Her nose scrunched at the taste of cold vegetables. With a careful glance to make sure her parents werenât watching, she spat the food back on her plate.
âThis is entirely unnecessary,â Vegeta grumbled. âYou know it will heal on its own.â
âNot before bleeding all over the damn place. Besides, itâs deep enough that it might scar, and I think you have enough of those.â Bulma finished her stitches and put a bandage over the wound. With a warm smile she leaned in, nudging her nose to Vegetaâs. âThere. As rugged as that might look, Iâve grown fond of your face the way it is.â
He huffed, his large hands grabbing Bulmaâs hips and pulling her closer. âWhy do I tolerate you?â
Bulma nuzzled his cheek. âLetâs go to bed and Iâll remind you.â
He started to smile, but then his eyes slid to the side where Bra was still pretending to eat. âEchalotte.â She snapped upright at his sharp tone. âDid you finish your dinner?â
Her plate was mostly untouched. âUh⌠not yet, Papa.â
âStop dawdling.â
Her head lowered at his reprimand. Papa rarely told her off; she didnât much care for the experience. Sullenly, Bra pushed her vegetables about on her plate, kicking her feet into the kitchen counter below.
âIâm going to wash off,â Vegeta said, and left Bulma to pack up the first aid kid.Â
Still sulking, Bra smooshed her peas into her plate. âMommy?â
âYes honey?â
âWhy do you helpit Papa? I donât think he likes getting fixed.â
Bulma laughed. âAh, your father just thinks heâs too tough for help. But truth is, heâs not used to getting any and doesnât know how to ask for it.â
âHe doesnât know how?â Bra asked, amazed there was something Papa couldnât do.
âNope. So I just help him.â
Bra reflected on that as she swirled her food into paste. Papa was always helping her and Tunks and Mommy and even the whooooole universe from evil bad guys. It didnât seem fair that he couldnât ask for help in return.Â
âMommy?â
âYes?â
âThanks for helping Papa.â
Bulma smiled and came to sit by her. âOf course.â She brushed Braâs bangs out of her face. âThatâs what families do: help each other. Because we love each other, right?â
Bra beamed. âRight!â
âNow finish your dinner.â
âUgh,â Bra whined, dropping her head forward in defeat.
~xox~
 Blood splattered the ground where Vegeta walked. His wife would be pissed. Bulma hated when he made a mess but in a roundabout way, this was her fault. Sure, he might have asked Bulma to increase the intensity of the training bots but she was the one who exceeded his expectations. If he didnât know any better, he would think his wife was trying to kill him.
Goddamn she was amazing.
Still, he had underestimated her upgrades and now suffered the consequences. With some luck, he hoped to make it to the bathroom before anyone noticed.
He limped passed the living room where Bulmaâs mother was keeping an eye on Bra.Â
âOh my!â Panchy exclaimed. âVegeta sweety, donât you look a fright.â
So much for not getting noticed.
At Panchyâs announcement, Braâs head jerked up from her coloring book, her eyes going wide seeing the state of her father. âPapa! Youâre hurt again?â
He paused. âItâs nothing. Keep drawing.â
Bra ignored him, hurrying over and grabbing his hand. It made his heart tighten to see how tiny her fingers were compared to his. Bra examined his wounds, her brow furrowing mightily. What had got her so worked up? She had seen him injured before. But before he could ask, Bra sprang off down the hall. âWait, Papa. Iâll helpit!â
Ah, goddamn it. Off to fetch her mother, no doubt. With a heavy sigh, Vegeta followed. May as well get this over with.Â
But he didnât get far. The patter of little feet heralded Braâs return, a box of bandaids held in her chubby hands. She looked at him with the same determination he had seen countless times on her motherâs face.
âOkay, Papa. Let Bra take good care of you!â
Well fuck. How could he say no to that?
With a sigh, he sunk into a sitting position before her, and allowed his daughter to play nurse.
Just like her mother.Â
âYou have so many hurts,â Bra tutted as she stuck plaster after plaster on him. At least it wasnât the goddamn strawberry ones. âDonât worry, Papa. Families helpit each other.â
He peeled open an eye to look at his daughterâs earnest face. Family⌠Did he ever imagine he could have such a precious family after everything that had happened to him?
Bra was opening another plaster when he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight.
âAren ilgnen kalor, Echalotte,â he whispered fiercely in her ear.
âPapa!â she squealed, and soon her laughter filled the corridor as he tickled her sides and nommed her tiny neck.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Ordering one our vegebul calendars means you get 13 original, beautiful full-color prints for approx $2 each, a deal youâd never be able to beat at any artist-alley. It also means supporting some of your favorite artists who have spent years practicing their skills and generously sharing their beautiful creations with us, brightening our days and our timelines. ^_^
Pre-orders will close before the end of October. Make sure to order yours and show your love before itâs too late! ~_^