#a shippers mind works in peculiar ways

[sizzy-ling]

do I watch obx??

No.

have I followed its progress through tublr despite not watching/not liking the genre?

Yes.

do I ship ships despite not watching?

John b./ Sarah -- Jj/Pope ill defend you to death (also K/Sarah but shhhh)

Am I exceptionally upset about Jay's death despite NOT watching obx??

YES.

will I be reading fix it fics from now till I feel better??

big yes

[transgendercastiel]

it’s so hard out here as an abedison disliker

[gaydexvocaloid]

i see you ship aurum and wil and i raise you: the zolas are a polycule and they decide to integrate aurum. they have 3 weed smoking boyfriends now

ooooh :0 i see zola project as like brothers tho so AHGDBGDJ.. they’re just very family vibes 2 me personally 🙏 /lh

[nocandnc]

Since you're a hardcore shipper for both Yuriloe and Fionky... what if the two couples bumped into each other and had themselves a double date~?

Hi there~ Am I hardcore?! I suppose I do love my shipping outbursts...! Hmm, a double date huh... although I love their potential, I don't see Fionky becoming a couple until much later in the story - not for years even. Yuriloe on the other hand (Yurichlo? Chluri? SSSx2!? The fanbase needs to come to a consensuses!!) I can see happening much sooner.

With that in mind, here is my proposed scenario:

Yuri and Chloe start dating for real, abet tentatively. Eager to meet her brother's girlfriend, Yor gets Loid to arrange a group date between the four of them. However! Something comes up that prevents the Forgers from going. Yor is dismayed at losing a chance to learn about her potential sister-in-law and ruining the double date Yuri was surely looking forward to! (He wasn't.)

In an attempt to cheer Yor up For The Mission Twilight calls on Franky and Fiona to pose as a couple and join Yuri and Chloe instead. He insists it's a good opportunity to probe two SSS officers for info while sussing out the status of their relationship for Operation Strix.

So the group go on their double date. Fiona is less than enthused but it was a direct request from Twilight and she'll do her job damn it. Franky is mildly terrified but hey, it's a date with a pretty lady! Two ladies in fact, and the second one is unexpectedly cute for an SSS officer...? Franky gets distracted by Chloe's (polite, obligatory) friendliness all too soon into the evening. Now Fiona is mad all over again because here she is putting on her very best Girlfriend act and this scouring pad of a man is ignoring her for the enemy? Really? Right in front of her salad??

Yuri meanwhile is still a little unsure about this whole romance thing, but Yor sounded so happy when he accidentally mentioned going on a late night stakeout coffee date the other week, so maybe Chloe was on to something? But Yor wasn't even here, so what was the point? Not even that damn Loidy came! He'd sent a "family friend" over instead, who was currently making eyes at his girlfriend of all things. His girlfriend! Suddenly Yuri is very sure indeed, taking every opportunity to make physical contact with Chloe for rest of the evening while glaring daggers at Franky Franklin.

Chloe hides her disappointment at not getting to meet Yuri's sister and infamous brother-in-law, exchanging pleasantries with the peculiar couple across from her through a well-crafted smile. The other woman at the table has quite the poker face herself, but with all of Fiona's questions rounding back to the topic of work Chloe figures she must be the nervous type. Fiona's... husband? Franky, is much more talkative. So much so that Chloe is troubled to keep up. She glances at her date now and again for assistance, but the young man is still stuck sulking over his sister's absence - or so Chloe thinks before Yuri abruptly takes her hand in his, squeezing tightly.

The two couples claw their way through dinner and part ways with no lives lost, somehow. Yuri's aggression fades exponentially as he drives Chloe home. By the time they reach her doorstep he's clear headed and embarrassingly aware of how touchy he'd been with her out of the blue. He sputters a quick farewell while turning to leave, but a gentle grip on his coat sleeve stops him dead. The goodnight kiss Chloe gives him is even gentler. Fiona's at peak aggression when she slows her car to a crawl along Franky's street. She contemplates telling him to tuck and roll before coming to a complete stop instead. Franky is mentally in shambles - he's convinced Yuri Briar has some kind of ESP with the amount of psychic damage his glares dealt. And even worse, the relationship between the two SSS agents seemed totally lovey-dovey!! Franky heaves a sigh and mumbles to his frosty accomplice about writing a report for Twilight before moving to exit the vehicle. He gets one foot out the door before he's suddenly yanked back towards the driver's seat by his lapel. Franky locks eyes with Fiona as she tells him in the iciest tone possible that he'll be looking at no one but her on their next date - she'll make sure of it.

Mission failed successfully?

...

I think this turned into a shoddy fanfic halfway through sorry 'bout that.

[thenewfuture]

What are your thoughts on the most recent Despair Time episode? Especially when compared to Mod Bubbles?

Yeah sorry about that, I’ve been pretty busy this week and also tired from work so I didn’t get the time to do this properly. And I was also waiting for the thumbnail to come out like for this episode, but it’s just the generic deadly life picture like in the previous episode; possibly indicating that there’s no new CG in the up coming episode. Alright so let’s get this started!

Also, real quick…

HA!

Anyways, we start off by confirming that yes, Levi’s secret is that he is a killer. And a pretty ruthless one at that too. As well as the fact that he seems to have AntiSocial Personality Disorder. Which would explain some scenes with him earlier on in the episodes last week; constantly wondering and worrying if he’s acting the right way around others. And as for his killings….he seems to not care…

The cast reacted accordingly, finding it peculiar that Levi not only killed multiple people, but one of which was his father. And he just seems to not….care. But that’s what it is to him. He couldn’t care less. Not because he doesn’t care about the consequences, he quite literally cannot comprehend the empathy about it. As well as him listing down his other various crimes like blowing up a car seems to suggest this is just…an average day for him. Which brings us to Ace…

Oh my goodness, the AceVi shippers are in shambles. Someone check on them.

Despite Ace feeling rightfully hurt that Levi has threatened to take his life at the last class trial, and once more here, he still thought as Levi as a friend. Levi constantly checked on him to make sure he was okay, and even helped in treating Ace when his neck was bleeding. And in the end, Levi admitted he wouldn’t care if Ace died. Ouch.

On top of that, it seems like Ace has his own share of grief and heartache from a past friendship. The trauma thickens…

Anyway, after that we finally get all the secrets!

Yaaaaaaaay! Finally, after so long and theorizing! It’s finally revealed for the world to see!

OH YOU MOTHERFUCK-

Anyway, one more thing of more here is Arei and David. David reveals what happened that night with the two of them, to no one but the audience mind you, and it’s….kinda sweet.

Arei has been trying to change and trying to be this idea of a “good person” is. And now that she’s knows David’s secret, she doesn’t feel the need to beat herself over it because she can still change…just not a the quickest pace she thinks it is. And that’s okay.

No one is entirely good or bad. The black and white morality system that society has placed into others is outdated. It’s a matter of perspective. Every person is hiding some skeletons in their closet, some huge black tar of a stain on their life that they try their best to cover up and avoid. Many of you will recall earlier this year, I dealt learning something similar. And while I’m not going to dwell on that dark part of my life anymore. This idea of shape you have of others and sometimes reflect on yourself…it doesn’t exist, it never did. And trying to convince yourself that it does is only going to hurt more.

Here…Arei is coming to terms with the things she’s done and not regretting it because she can still change in the end. It’s not too late for anybody. She’s no longer going to beat herself over it or condemn herself for it…and that’s fine.

“You can still be good, and be the person you want to be”

Hoo boy…anyways, after those tangents are finally over and dealt with we finally move onto…

OH MY GOD!!! FINALLY!!! A NON-STOP DEBATE! What is this, the second one we’ve had so far here. It took us 4 episodes and a year and a half, Rico ally progress with the murder. It’s so over, this cast is cooked!

So it seems the murder method has something to do with the spinny thingy-

“Carousel”

Carousel to take some long rope to it and tie up Arei’s neck with it so it breaks when they want it to. I’m a little confused on the logistics of these things but like I said, I’m dumb as fuck. And it also just is quite scary how some fangan writers can be what their murder methods…Yeesh.

But all this speculation puts someone in the hot seat.

DUN-DUN-DUUUUUUN!

What really happened with Nico’s previous murder attempt? Who is the true Blackened of this case? Will this cast have a scrub debate before episode 20? Find out the answer to all these questions and more, tonight! On DanganRonpa: Despair Time! Fridays at 7pm!

On Channel Zetsubou!~

-Mod

[esther-dot]

why do ppl keep saying sandor was sansa’s sexual awakening? it’s so weirrrrrd

This is something I'm aware of, but I hadn't read the theories, so I found a couple, and I'm gonna share some quotes and links so you can read the full metas if you want, but with the understanding that y'all are gonna come and bitch in my inbox, and not try to argue with any shippers about this, ok? ok!

Decide if this is something you actually want to expose yourself to or not, anon. 🙃

So, here's one of the earliest places I see that statement (2014) in a reblog to a post:

My point is, Sandor is intricately tied with her sexual awakening (for lack of a better word) in a way that Petyr is not. Petyr is actively trying to be a part of that, which can qualify as sexual abuse, whereas Sansa herself is associating, at least on a subconscious level, Sandor with these various instances I mentioned above. (link)

And I'm guessing it's an evolution of this post/others like it from 2013:

That said, Milady has to declare that, speaking as a clinician with knowledge of real life mismemory cases, GRRM’s depiction is messy and makes bloody little sense! Sansa’s mismemory doesn’t resemble a mismemory as much as it resembles a sexual fantasy. And Milady would go even further and contend that GRRM has taken an utterly typical and comprehensible teenage first sexual fantasising and passed it off as mismemory for narrative purposes. [...] There are dozens of distinct variations of this experiment, and all of them show the extent of human memory’s fallibility and unreliability, nothing else. But bear in mind that for a mismemory to be considered as such, it has to come out of the mental realm into the realm of reality, otherwise it’s fantasising, pure and simple. Thus, as far as Sansa’s imaginary kiss remains in her thoughts, it’s only her imagination at work. We cannot say yet if GRRM will decide that it will develop into a permanent mismemory or will be dispelled either by herself or Clegane, but we do know that the developing of her sexuality that started with it hasn’t finished yet, and her fantasy has already started to disconnect from the Blackwater, moving on to another stage where sexual dreams take place, dreams that have the purpose of rehearsing attachment-related scenarios during sleep, to process affective and mental content from daytime life, and that, were this not fictional, should be already explicit at this point. (This post is simply too long and technical for me to relay it all so I will share the link if you are morbidly curious--but again, I'm trusting y'all. Let's keep our feelings in-house!)

Here is another long meta from 2016:

I do not in any way negate Sansa being attracted to men and boys in aGoT before this erotic fantasy of aSoS. Infatuations, puppy love, a crush, admiration, limerence and love can befall elementary school aged children. Children can experience chemistry and attraction. I do not deny that Sansa is subconsciously sexually drawn to a man, such as Sandor, before this Loras daydream. What I do point out is that there is a marked alteration from the (prepubescent) romantic fantasies of Sansa in aGoT to those of an explicit erotic nature in aSoS. Her menarche at the end of aCoK was the physical evidence of adolescence, while the Loras fantasy is the mental evidence of it. And it is very peculiar that it happens for the first time, right in the middle of that particular song, on which GRRM puts that much emphasis by writing it in capital letters. It suggests a link between Sansa hearing the song to the sexual maturation of Sansa to a new level, literary or effectively. Definitely most interesting though is that lo and behold, in Sansa II, just one chapter later, we first learn of Sansa’s invented unkiss about Sandor, exactly like we learn a chapter after Dany being kissed by a bear to have re-awakened sexual desires. [...] Fundamentally, both Loras’ kiss and Sandor’s Unkiss are fantastical in nature here. The maiden Sansa is not exposed to an actual kiss from either a knight or a bear yet (unlike Dany). It is one of song only. The immense difference is that with Loras she is conscious of it being imagined, while Sandor’s kiss is a false memory she believes has actually occurred. [...] The bear-maiden song’s appearance heralds Sansa’s sexual maturation into that of the erotic fantasy, which is set not long after her menarche, most likely around her ovulation time, and therefore is reminiscint of the masculine maturation where the first ejaculation archetypically coincides with an erotic wet dream. (link)

I'm not sure the year for this, but it's from the "Pawn to Player" (fandom famous) essays:

Sex: Sandor is in between a menstrual pain and her first period. I have a hard time thinking this is a coincidence. With the events and dreams that come later, this is symbolic of Sandor’s part in Sansa’s sexual awakening. In this case, he is literally in the middle of it. [...] Sex: Where do I even begin? Well, let’s start by location. It takes place not only in Sansa’s room, but on her bed. The bloody cloak is another obvious symbol. A bloody sheet is often a sign of girl losing her virginity. A cloak works just as well. In a slightly disturbing example, after the song, Sandor’s tears are described as wetness that was not blood. I’ll just walk away from that double entendre. [...] But more importantly, she doesn’t seem to feel like a victim. She adds in the unkiss and later has erotic dreams about him. (link)

So, you get the idea. I believe it was sansxn shippers who originated/popularized a more sympathetic reading of Sansa and the idea that she would learn from LF and become a political player—something people still won’t accept—hence that “pawn to player” thing, so I appreciate that, although the direction they went with that is just, not one I can agree with. They also have very sympathetic readings of the Hound which means we get a twisted version of “the unkiss” and that made some reinterpret the assault? And then all of Sansa memories of it? I find it an easier thing to conclude that Sansa can’t quite accept that the man who at point saved her intended to rape her, so she remembers something far more manageable, (the unkiss), but they, sometimes in an effort to give her agency, say imagining she was kissed is a sign that Sansa wanted the Hound to kiss her. The problem with that is that this quickly becomes victim blaming, and I’ve had Sansxns in my inbox in the past arguing the Hound didn’t intend to rape Sansa and didn’t assault her—so apparently, it also leads to full fledged denial of what was happening in that scene.

If you imagine the Hound as a misunderstood hero, rather than a violent man who brags about killing women and children, their interpretation is easier to understand. But that ignores that there is a reason Sansa is frightened by him, and it isn’t merely his appearance, it’s because he is dangerous. Back in AGOT he rode down a little boy and murdered him, remorselessly. I actually argue that the Sansa under the Hound's cloak is a callback to that, it is a damning indictment of him, not romantic, so again, we just interpret the ideas behind their interactions very differently (link). In that post, I also point out, she thinks positively of Tyrion and LF too, not because she's in love with them, because this poor girl has been surrounded by enemies for so long that their moments of intervening on her behalf are all she has to cling to. Anyway, what seemed to be the refrain was the significance of “the unkiss” and that it means actually, Sansa is attracted to the Hound instead of him just being a perv who traumatized her/threatened her life repeatedly. So, apparently, that’s what they mean by calling him her “sexual awakening.”

[greywayfarer]

As a nearly 30 year old woman, I have to say that my past as a shipper in fandom always creeps up in the most peculiar ways…just watched the social network for the first time at a friends house and left with a feeling that Eduardo and Mark should just make out 😂 and I can’t let anyone in my real life know cause they will think I’m nuts lol

Excellent, Anon! As another woman in her early thirties, shipping is my jam. I also happen to ship the oddest characters together. One that springs to mind is my love of Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade from BBC's modern Sherlock Homes.

They were literally together in one or two scenes out of all the series and yet my brain was like 'Huh. A sassy working class Inspector and a posh buttoned up spymaster of the British government? Yes please'.

It puts a spring in my step.

[akachankami]

Do you like Hayffie?

Do you like them as a individual too? Or what factor made you think they are suit each other as a ship.

(Please tag other hayffie shippers if you don't mind, thank you so much😊)

@curiousnonny

I love hayffie!!

I like them as a ship and I love them individually too. It's been a while since I read the books but I remember thinking their bickering was hiding that sort of fondness for someone you did not like at first but grew into mutual understanding and eventually settled into that... that farce that they had to keep up for the 'big brother' that is the capitol, cause there was no real bite to it, no real offense, it felt rehearsed.

I remember thinking they understood each other without words, which you can achieve with co-workers sometimes if you know their minds... And I thought it was peculiar that a capitol person like effie would take the time and commit to the effort of really getting to know a drunk loner like haymitch... (And viceversa.) So there must be something more to her character, right?

That's what intrigues me about effie, honestly, that extra attitude she adopts to mask the grim reality, to keep up pretenses... And the little slips she let's past it. It must be exhausting to live like that, walking on eggshells all the time, she's just trying to survive in her own way, and I appreciate that, makes her very real, more than any hero.

Haymitch is easy to love (at least on paper): he's snarky and broken and gross but only because he wants to, it's a coping mechanism and a way to keep grief at bay, making himself externally unappealing, effie would have been disgusted to be near him if she didn't actually know what was underneath that layer of uglyness, another thing that makes me want to read between the lines thinking there's so much more, there has to be more than contempt between them!

Still, it must have been pretty toxic at the beginning, and it will never be perfect, but actually perfect relationships don't exist so I'll take it xD they are one of my fav ships because of the implied work they must have been putting into their relationship and the personal growth (mostly on effie's part i presume) that it entails.

So yeah, I really do love hayffie and haymitch and effie and the partnership they built

It only adds to that that they were so perfectly cast in the movies xD

@curiousnonny @elizabethbaenks @ellanainthetardis @clumsycapitolunicorn

[filmmakerdreamst]

How Xena: Warrior Princess Allowed Me To Accept Myself

I was living in a city all alone and these two characters showed me that it was ok for two women to love each other.

In order to understand the following story, there’s something you need to know about me. I have always loved fiction. From the age of about 5 to 11, I loved books more than I loved people. I was a shy child who found it easier to emotionally engage with fictional worlds than the real one around me.

See, fictional worlds are created for your brain’s enjoyment. Their rules make sense. Events happen for a reason. The narrator tells you why characters behave the way they do, allowing you to empathize with them on a deep emotional level. Easy to understand, easy to identify with, easy to love.

But real people are complicated. The real world is complicated. And things are seldom laid out nicely in a coherent narrative format for you. Real things are much harder to love.

This emotional disengagement continued from the age of 11 onwards, although it was no longer as pronounced. My habit of retreating into fiction would fade during good times and come back in force during difficult or stressful periods. During the stressful periods of college, the rise of Netflix allowed me to become certifiably obsessed with my favorite TV shows. And naturally, I joined Tumblr in order to more easily fangirl with people who shared my interests.

Only for some peculiar reason that I didn’t care to examine, my interests were slowly gravitating towards girl-girl couples. Soon I was shipping, reblogging, and reading fanfiction almost exclusively about female couples. But I, who had always considered myself straight despite lacking interest in the boys around me, didn’t think this meant that I was gay. I probably just found female couples more emotionally satisfying. I was friends with mostly women, I was a woman myself, so it was natural that I just understood them better. Yeah, that was probably it.

Fast-forward to nine months ago. I was living in Boston and incredibly depressed about it. My job and my boss were making my life miserable and I had very few people to socialize with. I was making the rough transition from the constant socialization of college to the isolating pressure of a city where I had few connections. My days and nights were some of the loneliest I had ever experienced. I looked for something, anything, to lift the heart-crushing emotional silence.

My solution was the same one I always chose when I was dissatisfied with the real world; obsession with a new TV show. And thanks to my femslash-focused tumblr community, I knew just what my next feel-good show was going to be.

My tumblr friends had told me this: Xena: Warrior Princess is an action-fantasy show that enjoys a cult status, much like Buffy: The Vampire Slayer (which I watched and loved). The two shows were made in the same mid-to-late 90's era, with similar bad special effects and endearing campiness. But XWP is much… MUCH… more gay.

That was about all I knew about the show going in. And amazingly, that was all I needed to know to be excited about watching it. You’d think that fact would have told me something about myself, but no. The mental walls of denial were years in the building and needed more force than that to be shattered.

For anyone unfamiliar with the show’s premise, Xena: Warrior Princess is about the title character and her quest for redemption. You see, Xena did some bad things in her previous life on another show (Hercules: The Legendary Journeys). In her storied career as a warlord, she committed such petty crimes as genocide, the slaughter of innocents, that kind of thing. But now she has seen the light and wants to atone for her crimes. Except she can never undo the terrible things she did. All Xena can do now is help people on a day-to-day basis and hope that it’s enough for someone to show her mercy.

Which is already fantastic from a character standpoint. But there is a secret mirror to Xena’s journey that is not reflected in the show’s title, and that is Gabrielle and her character arc.

Oh! Gabrielle! When I met her in the very first episode, I loved her straightaway. She is a feisty, naive, talkative small-town girl who accompanies Xena on all her adventures. Her character quickly assumes paramount importance in the narrative. Gabrielle is Xena’s only friend. She comes to know her better than anyone else and love her for who she is, all the while believing Xena can reach redemption. Yet Gabrielle is not just a support system for Xena; she goes on her own heroic journey. The two character arcs intertwine and co-develop in a way I have never seen in any show before or since.

As each episode rolled by and their relationship grew in complexity, I found myself more and more engrossed. And I came to realize: this was something I wanted. The day I accepted my own desire was the day I accepted myself. What could be more strangling than denying the existence of your own feelings? Yet I had been doing this to myself for years — cutting off the possibility of being attracted to other women — without even realizing.

Before beginning the show, I thought the fandom had read in between the lines to construct a romantic relationship between the two characters, the same way as femslash shippers do in all other TV shows. Except not this time. This one is mind-blowingly different.

Not only does the narrative place utmost importance on the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, but the actresses bring such multi-dimensional love to their parts. When I saw Lucy Lawless (Xena) and Renee O’Connor (Gabrielle) interact, I could so easily believe that these two women loved each other beyond friendship. Xena and Gabrielle display every kind of love you can think of. They protect and sacrifice for each other. They tease and flirt. They cuddle and console. They have inside jokes with each other. They dance sexily. They play pranks and drive each other crazy. They sweetly kiss. They come back from the dead together. They bathe together. They raise each other’s children. They meet in alternate timelines and fall in love all over again.

I could have left my mental walls of denial in place. I could have said to myself “oh yes, I want this. But with a guy.” But no. Lawless and O’Connor’s incredibly attractive faces and bodies broke down the door of my mental closet. Precisely because they were fictional, I felt safe to admit my attraction to them. One of the key mental blocks I had always had towards accepting any attraction towards other women was the thought that I was being creepy. That since they could not possibly feel the same way about me, it was wrong to feel the way I did. But in my mind, that barrier didn’t exist with fictional characters. They couldn’t feel anything for me. Therefore, it was fine to feel whatever I want about them.

The walls cracked. The water came rushing in. Oh my god. I am attracted to other women. Like, every day of my life. Those flickers in my stomach when I talk to an attractive female coworker suddenly make a whole lot of sense now. I now saw my historical awkwardness when talking to beautiful girls, which I always dismissed as “me being weird”, for what it was. All those short-term girl crushes on older girls throughout high school. How was I so sure they were platonic? That heart-aching infatuation I had with my best friend that lasted for years? Yeah, add that to the ‘definitely gay’ list.

Since then I’ve realized that my feelings are valid regardless of what others feel for me. Just because feelings are unrequited doesn’t mean they aren’t real. That’s what Xena and Gabrielle taught me. Their fictional example was the final blow to my rapidly-crumbling resistance to the idea of homosexuality.

In our culture today, so many forms of media reinforce heteronormativity. How many commercials have you seen that assume attraction between a man and a woman? How many billboards tell women that they need to look sexy for the men in their lives? How many times has a movie ended with the guy getting the girl? It’s the combined action of a thousand small rocks shifting to make a cultural avalanche. You can’t move against it. All you can do is stand still and try to maintain your footing against the current, to maintain your identity in the face of a world where you and people like you are often swept away by the mainstream.

Xena: Warrior Princess is one of those rare stories that dares to go against the grain. It celebrates a romantic relationship between two women as the most natural thing in the world. And in doing so, it provides a mirror for me and people like me to recognize themselves in. There we are. Look at us fly.

This story isn’t over yet. I still have a lot of work to do to accept myself, but thanks to Xena and Gabrielle I’ve taken one huge step towards living the open life I want to live. I moved on from that horrible job and lonely city, but in the end I’m grateful. Grateful that circumstances pushed me to the depths of loneliness necessary to bring down the prison I had built in my own mind.

- How Xena: Warrior Princess Allowed Me To Accept Myself by Lyra Hall

[ariwritessometimes]

Ao3 Stats Game

Thanks so much to @amixedwitch for tagging me! ^_^

How many works do you have on AO3?

37! But one is technically a multi-fandom collection with multiple works. It’s just a temporary thing until I can properly separate everything out, though!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

362,128 at the time of typing this, and most of that is thanks TFPoaBE lol

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay, rolling all of the MCU into one but keeping X-Men, Netflix Marvel shows, and Venom separate, 14 fandoms.

These include:

Aquaman, Marvel, The Chronicles of Narnia, Community, Criminal Minds, Harry Potter, Netflix The Punisher, Netflix Daredevil, Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, Sherlock, Venom, The Witcher, and X-Men.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Song of the Sea: Sunsets and Black Sails (Jack Sparrow x OC)

Doodles (Peter Parker x Reader, Soulmate AU)

A Peculiar Fellowship (Legolas x Reader)

The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era (Caspian x Reader)

Sparrows and Iron (Tony Stark x Reader)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I try to respond to all comments, at the very least to say thank you.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I’ve done several angsty one-shots haha. Most people seem to react the strongest to Fading (Tony Stark x Reader, Soulmate AU), and also To Outrun Fate (Peter Maximoff x Reader, Soulmate AU).

...

I’m noticing a theme in my angst. Hm. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed to write Marvel Soulmate fics.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet, but I daydream crossovers a lot haha.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah lol. I called them out for it and the commenter then backtracked, deleted the comments, and said it was their sister. I still don’t fully believe that to this day, but whatever. Second chances and all.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nope, not my thing. I will very very vaguely imply it on occasion, if I think it’s important to the plot, but it’ll only ever be a fade to black kind of thing.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Luckily no. I think it’s because I mostly write series, and one shots are the thing that people steal the most. Also smut, which I don’t write, so nothing much to steal from me.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, though I had someone ask once. I turned it down at the time, because I like to keep all of my works on my own page. But in the future I might be open to making one of those collaborative works on Ao3 so that both names are attached to it.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Every time someone asks this, I immediately forget everything I ever shipped lol. Off the top of my head, Dramione, WinterWidow (Bucky x Natasha), Sifki (Loki x Sif), TaserTricks (Loki x Darcy), and Yennskier (or is it Jaskefer? Jaskier x Yennefer anyways). Then I ship one of my OCs with Peter Parker, and in an AU I ship her with Peter Maximoff.

As you can see, I’m a multi shipper lol.

And of course I ship myself with many many characters 😏 Basically, if I’ve written for them, it’s probably because I ship myself with them 😂

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

There’s a couple Marvel fics that I don’t think I’m ever going to finish, one being a Loki x OC fic that I’m planning on scrapping entirely to give the two of them an entirely new story.

What are your writing strengths?

I’d like to think that my writing superpower is being able to emulate the tone of each author I’m writing. I think I especially excel at Tolkien and Lewis’ stuff, and I have a lot of fun trying to structure my syntax in a way that sounds authentic to them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I have a hard time with plot pacing. When I’m not doing a rewrite type of fic like TFPoaBE or APF, I often notice myself speeding from one event to the next without a catalyst or natural flow of events. Also, I notice myself getting too dialogy heavy sometimes, detracting from the descriptive portion of the work.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It honestly depends on the work for me. Most often, if it’s a language the reader character or OC is supposed to know and understand, then I will write it in English in italics, to notate that yes, it is a different language, but the flow is still the same because the main character understands what is being said. When the OC or RC doesn’t know the language, then I do my best with google and I put the language in the work to disrupt the flow in the same way an MC who doesn’t speak the language would have their own flow of understanding interrupted.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Marvel :)

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I have a lot, so it’s hard to choose. I’m super super proud of TFPoaBE, though, for sure. Finishing that series felt like removing a part of my soul lol.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this, say that I tagged you!

[smile-files]

okay so. lately for me it’s only been animal crossing and dumb british people

and if you don’t know what i mean by dumb british people, let me tell you:

- learning about the pre-revolutionary war stuff. i find it kind of funny that the british didn’t expect the colonies to fight back after the dumb stupid taxes? like what else were you expecting?? you know they can fight, they literally just helped you win a war lol you idiots

- enola holmes!! what’s better than a 14-year-old madlass who uses a corset as armor and hides daggers in her bust enhancer?? and who stabbed a boy in the arm? and who hides from her dingus brother sherlock on three occasions by hiding in his literal house??? it’s pretty wild so far B) the books are quite different than the netflix movie, give em a read if you have the time!! also watson’s here and i love watson so that’s good enough for me

- bryant and may: two old geezers who are partners in detective work at london’s peculiar crimes unit. bryant is a cane-toting madman who believes in witches and other nonsense like that while screaming at half the people who try to talk to him. may is the only person who can tolerate him and tries way too hard to take him out to dinner. and, ever-so-conveniently for us gay shippers, both of their respective wives just so happen to be long dead! whoopee

- sherlock holmes, of course. it’s been a hot minute since i’ve read any of the stories but boy is it gay. super gay. i’ve always shipped him with watson and no don’t go screaming about bbc sherlock i’m so sorry all of you poor souls got dreadfully queerbaited but seriously just read the books they’re gay enough for all of you. but yeah that’s basically all i’ve been thinking about in terms of sherlock lmao

- those bertie & jeeves stories!! you know the ones, written by p. g. wodehouse. the epitome of dumb british people, you don’t go a minute without people breaking off engagements or dating people out of spite or sending passive-aggressive telegrams or rambling about newts or spiking orange juice or throwing police hats out of windows or hiding in potting-sheds or burning down cottages or saying ‘right ho’ or stealing your bed sheets to climb out your window to take your car and escape to london because they’ve been an idiot for one time too many and whoops now somebody wants to kill them and goodbye bertie i’m going to tie a brick to my foot and jump into the lake if you don’t mind

- professor layton; particularly miracle mask because that’s the only one i’ve played (i need to play all of them eventually). my favorite video game ever (animal crossing is a close second), so i don’t want to spoil too much; you should really play it, it’s on the 3ds. all i’m going to say is that layton dreadfully needs a therapist. like this man, this dude, our homeboy hershel layton needs a therapist. also henry has very pretty eyelashes?? henry ledore more like henry ledorable amirite hahahaha this game is so depressing now i need a therapist (cue me screaming internally about randall)

[verannaca]

3am realisations: Elsa has no faith in Anna.

i’m not expecting this post to get any attention BUT: If you're a major Elsa-stan, or are strongly anti-Anna, do not read this. Chances are you're unable to respect other people's opinions, and I don't wanna hear your whining. Also, Els*nna shippers don't interact.

(quick edit cuz this is getting more than 3 notes for some reason??? i love sweet lil snow baby elsa from frozen2013 and 10000% blame the writers for what happened in frozen2019, so please bear in mind that i am mostly critisicing the writers and not the character, even though it was the poor character that got betrayed. all opinions welcome if you’re respectful and mature! any hate on anna will not be tolerated, idgaf who you are)

I wanna say for starters that this is not a hate post. Up until the "shoving you down a hill" scene, I loved Elsa. I felt for her, and was intetested in her motives and thoughts, because she's a bit of a peculiar character. However, I lost all love and understanding after she manipulated and betrayed Anna.

It kinda pisses me off seeing people defend this scene.

"Anna would've drowned if she went with." (read further.) "Anna's an ordinary human; she couldn't have helped." (Elsa is an "ordinary" human, too. They're both "the bridge." Anna's magic is her love. Elsa is not more than Anna. They're the same.) "Anna was too clingy and co-dependent." (Anna was petrified of once again losing her sister, and rightly so. Elsa was careless, and Anna was terrified throughout the entire movie because of Elsa's behaviour.) "Elsa did nothing wrong." (read further.)

Let's theorize what would've happened if Anna went with.

 Anna wouldn't have gone into the ocean. She would've stayed on the beach and waited for Elsa to return, because Anna has faith in Elsa.

They would have made it to the dark sea and Anna would've been able to see for herself that it was too dangerous. She could then decide on her own to stay behind.

They both somehow battle the Nokk, realise that they're both "the bridge" because they both survive, and they travel to Ahtohallan together. Not likely, but if the writers gave a shit about Anna (which we know they don't), they would've found a way to make it work.

"But Anna would've froze in Ahtohallan."

I don't think Anna would've been interested by that point. If they'd communicated clearly, Anna would've learned quickly that she was needed elsewhere. She would've travelled back to Northuldra to wait for Elsa's delivery of information. She could’ve tracked down her fkin BOYFRIEND that the writers also hate for some reason. Then, Anna could act from there. Anna would be able to stay and wait ALONGSIDE KRISTOFF because Anna has faith in Elsa.

  Why was this particular scene so problematic?

It teaches kids that being stubborn, manipulating those that love you, and shoving them down a hill is okay behaviour that will have absolutely zero consequences.

It shows that communication is irrelevant, no matter how badly at least one person wants to talk.

It makes Elsa look terrible.

It makes Anna look weak.

 Instead of throwing a fit and having it her way, Elsa could've:

 Offered to take Anna a little further.

Assured her that everything would be okay and that they'd meet up later.

Given her another task to distract her and give her a purpose.

 Instead, she:  

Manipulated Anna by using her love against her. All Anna ever wanted/needed was real attention, and the ONLY time Elsa initiated a hug [on screen] was when she was manipulating. That is so beyond okay.

Betrayed Anna by once again forcing her away against her will without so much as a goodbye.

Never apologised for the fear and pain she inflicted upon Anna.

By refusing to listen; by refusing to give Anna (you know, the woman who saved the kingdom, saved herself, saved Elsa, DIED for everyone, proved on multiple occassions how capable she is) a chance, Elsa proved that she has absolutely no faith in her sister. Elsa proved that she has no thought or consideration for her sister's feelings. She never asked if Anna was okay as the redhead sobbed. She never apologised for her actions. She never offered any kind of solution. She was emotionless during their reunion, and then left without a second thought. Elsa doesn't care about Anna. Elsa simply doesn't want to be followed around, and will obviously do anything to ensure her own independence.

Before you jump into defense mode: Elsa didn't make any grand sacrifices in Frozen. Her parents locked her away, and brainwashed her. She was a victim of abuse, not some great protector of her sister. This does not make her a villain! This was one part of her that I personally related too, because of my own upbringing. To me, her selfishness is understandable. She has to put herself first to survive. But by Frozen 2, there is no room for excuses. She made poor, selfish decisions, for poor, selfish motives.

I wholeheartedly blame the writers. I can understand why people loved and related to her in the first movie, but after her actions in Frozen 2... it says a lot more about you than you think if this is the kind of person you look up to.

The facts: Frozen is Anna's story. It's a story about a spunky young woman who longs for a taste of freedom. Elsa is the mystery. She builds plot and mystery; she adds depth and meaning to the tale. But Frozen follows Anna because it's a story about Anna and her sister. It was never about "Anna and Elsa." The story was never about Elsa. I don't say this to shadow Elsa; she's a mysterious, mythical character, and that is beautiful. By throwing her into the spotlight and making her “badass” (that’s a reach), they made her unlike herself. They had to rewrite the character to the point where she isn’t even recognisable. This wasn’t growth. She didn’t grow, or learn.

Ending this here cuz I’m getting sad. I'm disappointed that they took such a soft lil snow baby and turned her into a cold-hearted ice witch. I miss who Elsa used to be, but unfortunately, this is canon now. I'll forever cherish 2013 Elsa, and severely pity the assassination that occurred in 2019.

And... I think they lost their footing with Anna, too. I'm not being biased, but this post is long enough already. Maybe a part 2 will come when I need to dump more thoughts.

[redslilstories]

Little Pieces of You

Author: lilyme (aka. redslilstories aka. me ;)) Summary: Set in New York. Was it wise to be clinging to the past, to memories of an old them? Or should it all have been abandoned long ago? Pairing: Callie/Arizona Rating: PG Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Grey's Anatomy". They were created by Shonda Rhimes and belong to her and the ABC network. No copyright infringement intended!All mistakes are mine.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day to all Calzona shippers!

There were things that she wasn't very good at.

And didn't like doing very much.

Organizing her closets and dressers was surprisingly such a thing.

She found that she sucked at keeping everything in its intended place, with shirts and pants roaming out to find themselves new spots to live in.

This happened whenever she had too much space to go around. Not because her closets were so huge they could fit an entire apartment block. But because she was using the room that was meant for two with the clothes of only one person.

Too much empty space that made clothes wander in desperate need for companionship, trying to compensate a loss.

But her clothes didn't have to suffer much longer. And today Callie had some much loathed reorganizing to do. For a very good reason.

"Sorry it's such a mess in here," she said to the approaching footsteps behind her, as she stood on the tips of her toes, rearranging her sweaters on the topmost shelf of her closet. "I didn't find the time to get everything ready".

"Come on, it's okay," the other woman said with an audible chuckle in her voice, as she carried a box into the bedroom. She found it endearing how anxious Callie could become over something like this. On any given day, the brunette's home probably looked way tidier than your average person's.

And even though she currently spent way more time than usual in her research lab at Heartmond Hospital in New York to get the finishing touches on her exoskeleton project, which was bound to revolutionize the world of medicine, her home in no way resembled a place of angst-inducing disorder and chaos.

And that could also be said about her wardrobe.

"So, um, I've got socks and underwear in this one. At least the box says so," the woman laughed as she placed said item on the ground. She was not always a hundred per cent certain which items had made their way into which box in the last steps of packing.

After Callie had asked her after four months of dating if she wanted to move in with her, she had not hesitated for one second.

There were so many advantages. Callie's apartment had more space than the one she herself had been able to find upon moving to New York a year ago. It was much closer to both their work places. And moving in together meant saving a lot of money.

But these were only the cold, economic facts.

What was even better was the prospect of them living together.

Again.

After all these years.

There certainly were jitters to be had about this step, considering their past.

But this was a new them. And this new them definitely deserved a new start into a home life together.

"Mm, sounds enticing," Callie laughed in return, referring to parts of the presumed content of the box.

She was so excited to be sharing her home with Arizona again. As was Sofia, who had been very open their rekindling relationship from the start and couldn't wait for them all to be living together again.

For now this apartment was perfect for the three of them. Barring the fact that they could hardly fit any of Arizona's furniture, so several things had to go into storage for the time being.

At some point they would probably start looking for a bigger place to accommodate them all, but that was not a priority right now.

"So, you said second drawer from top, right?" the blonde tried to recall as to where Callie had told her to stow her undergarments and went ahead to open said drawer.

Callie, temporarily distracted by her own task, only noticed with delay that Arizona did not remember all that correctly. And was about to open...

"Oh, no, wait, not that one," Callie hurried over with a movement of her hand that was to say Arizona should stop what she was doing.

But it was already too late.

And Arizona came face to face with... nothing much suspicious, really.

It was Callie's sock drawer.

"Hmm, nothing I haven't seen before," the blonde smirked, confused by the adorably abashed redness suddenly grazing Callie's features.

She turned her attention back the drawer, and on second glance noticed a black velvety box, about eight by ten inches sitting next to the assortment of socks on the right side of the drawer.

"It is about this?" she questioned. "If it's toys, you really don't have to worry," she shrugged seductively at her lover. "We're all humans. And it's not like we didn't use some before. Don't see why we shouldn't again sometime."

Callie was temporarily baffled by Arizona's alluring suggestion, and guffawed in amusement. "No, that... they're actually over there," she roughly pointed towards the nightstand, which was also equipped with several drawers.

"Valuable information," Arizona nodded in delight, while her hand subconsciously traced the smooth the surface of the mysterious box.

She had to admit... she was pretty curious to get to know more about the content. Solely due to Callie's peculiar reaction. But she wasn't going to push it. They each deserved their secrets – even living together, of course.

She was about to shut the drawer when Callie suddenly spoke. "Okay, you know what? Go ahead. Open it," she smiled cautiously, not having missed the woman's interest in this.

It was not something she was ashamed of or tried to hide. It just was something... she wasn't sure how Arizona would react to.

Chances were she would eventually see it anyway, and it was something... really, really not bad.

So why not do it now? Couldn't be weirder now than it would be at a later point, right?

"You sure?" Arizona wondered, wanting to reinforce Callie's permission.

"Yeah!" Callie nodded and sat on the bed to wait.

Arizona lifted the box from its hiding spot with tender hands, her curiosity piqued as she sat next to the brunette.

After a few moments of deliberation she removed the lid... and found herself perplex.

Because she caught sight of memorabilia of a time long years ago. And personal items she had almost forgotten even existed.

She found concert tickets from a Taylor Swift concert in 2010. The first concert she and Callie had went to together. It was their guilty pleasure. One they would certainly not admit to everyone.

She found one of the several scrap books she had made when she was a teen. This one being from the period she referred to as her punk rock era. It had little drawings, magazine clippings from singers and other celebrities she had fancied back then and even some poems the blonde had written. But most important of all it held pictures of her with unusually heavy eyeliner, dark t-shirts and ripped jeans. Once Callie had found this book, she had been unable to put it down. Mesmerized by Arizona's cuteness seeping through despite the appearance. And beyond fascinated by this unique insight into the mind of young Arizona. So fascinated that the blonde had not thought long about giving this book to Callie.

She found this really thick pair of knitted socks, which sported the most hideous green, gray, blue and red striped pattern ever. She had given it to Callie a few months into their relationship as a well-meant joke. Callie was the one with the ice cold feet in their relationship, and Arizona had often found herself fighting the urge to complain about icy toes against her calves whenever her lover held her as they slept. A part of her had feared that Callie would be insulted by this, but quite the contrary. She had worn them with joy, and even after the fabric had been ragged out from being worn God knows how many times, still had most obviously kept them.

She found a little jewelry box, which she didn't need to open to know that among other things it probably contained a heart necklace. A lot of people had laughed at them for wearing this matching items, but for them it had been their mutual show of love, belonging and care, and everyone laughing about it was just a fool who had never experienced this feeling.

And she found – to her utmost astonishment – tucked away at the bottom of the box – one of her old scrub caps. One in pastel tones that actually had butterflies on it. She had stopped wearing it shortly after coming to Seattle Grace, switching to a light pink one with little flowers instead. She thought she had thrown this old cap out. Actually remembered having put it on a pile Callie had prepared for the charity bin. But as it seemed now, the brunette had deemed it too valuable to be thrown out.

She sat with this box of 'her' in her lap. Of items that were not really the core of her being. Far from. But of pieces of her that apparently once had meant the world to someone. To Callie.

And maybe they still did.

"You kept all this," she stated as her fingers followed the patterns of her scrub cap.

And Callie sat beside her, worrying. Arizona didn't show any emotions that indicated how she thought about this... this... nostalgia? This desperate living in the past?

"I... I know... most of this didn't mean anything to you. The cap certainly didn't. Not like other surgeons who have their lucky caps. But I wanted to keep it. Because I saw you in it the day after the bathroom kiss. You were coming out of surgery. And you looked so proud and happy. I'll never forget that day. I think I fell in love with you right then."

This had actually been the first day she had seen her around the hospital at all. And while the cap itself was plain and unspectacular, it would forever remind her of the days she had met and gotten to know the blonde. Especially of the fact that she was not just an extraordinary human being, who went out of her way to dispel a total stranger's sorrow with a kiss – but also one of the most amazing doctors she had ever met.

Over the years items had been added, and they all meant no less to Callie.

But maybe more than they should have. Especially after they had broken up – for seemingly the final time.

And they probably meant more to her than Arizona was comfortable with.

"It's pathetic, I know," she cringed, and almost wished she had let Arizona assume the box contained adult toys for the time being.

"What? No!" Arizona was brought out of her own musings by Callie's evaluation and immediately calmed her with a vehement shake of her head. "No," she turned her body towards Callie, "it's really not. I find it sweet that you still have this. After all this time".

"So, you're not freaking out?" Callie questioned, somewhat relieved. She knew that to other people it probably seemed strange. And looked like a sign of being unable to let go.

Penny had certainly thought so when she had stumbled across the box while putting their clean underwear away.

Callie had to admit that it was a stupid place to stow something you didn't want your lover to find.

But maybe her subconsciousness didn't plan on it not being found by Penny. And maybe her reasoning about keeping it so that Sofia could have all this later – just like a pair of Arizona's wheely sneaks that sat in the back of her shoe drawer, somehow having made its way into her possession after the divorce – was really little more than easy to see through fib.

It had made Penny realize that Arizona still was much more to Callie than just the mother of her child.

It certainly had been a factor in their mutual decision to split up. And gave Callie the opportunity to try a new start with the woman still holding her heart.

The woman in question looked at her with a smirk that was tucked halfway between her teeth. Just like Callie remembered it when the blonde had something on her mind she wanted to share but also knew could mean trouble.

"What...?" Callie lured in amusement and tickled her fingers along the side of Arizona's thigh.

"I... uh, I might have kept a thing or two as well," she blushed.

"You did?" Callie queried surprised. Surprised that Arizona was just as much a nostalgic fool as she was.

"I still have the necklace too... And," the blonde began, her eyes coyly looking at the ceiling, "a couple of CDs we once made back then when people still had CD players," she laughed. They contained songs they had loved dancing to throughout the early years of their relationship. A wild mix of oldies and songs that had been brand new back then. They had used to dance for hours, only to end up in a heap of exhaustion and happiness.

"I think I still have a player somewhere," Callie wiggled her eyebrows, certainly not unhappy about the prospect of a little dance party. "What else?"

"Your kiddie Spanish book," she smiled lovingly. It was a book Callie – growing up bilingual – had learned to read with when she was little. At one point Callie had started teaching Arizona some Spanish, using this book among other things. And while it probably wasn't the best material to teach a foreign language to an adult, Arizona loved this book. It reminded her of lots of cozy hours snuggled together on the couch and studying. And it contained some doodles young Callie had made here and there of animals, flowers, people and whatever came to mind. "And, um, I have something else, and I hope you won't hate me for it," said the blonde and got up to leave the room, presumably to fetch the item.

Callie waited, wondering what it could possibly be.

She could hear rumbling... followed after a while by a bit of grumbling as apparently Arizona had trouble finding what she was looking for.

Then she heard a box or two crashing to the floor and became worried. "You okay?"

"Yup," Arizona announced and a few moments later emerged with a box that read...

"'Towels'?" Callie wondered.

"Hm? Uh, no," Arizona negated. "This is just the last box I packed, and it has some stuff in it I used till the last day like...," she opened the box and soon brought forth...

"Is that my sweater?!" The brunette exclaimed incredulously.

It was a garment so plain and simple. A normal woolen gray sweater. But it held so many memories for Arizona. She had loved cuddling with Callie wearing it and had during their time together sometimes worn it herself. And even during the difficult time of their divorce, Arizona's heart had wanted it. So she had snuck it out. And had frequently worn it herself since then. The sweater now being even more withered and having lost some amount of its original color. It was strange and nonsensical, but even after years of Callie wearing it last, Arizona found it still somehow smelled of her. And it always comforted her when she was having a bad day.

Arizona bit her lip, almost feeling she had to apologize. For taking this from Callie without asking.

At least the brunette didn't seem happy.

Long Moments later Callie's face twitched. "I knew I had seen it on you during that one video chat."

"Sorry?" Arizona said, hoping she could make amends somehow.

"Don't be," Callie returned and pulled Arizona into her lap. "It looks good on you".

"I know," the blonde returned cheekily as she put her arms around Callie. "So, um," she giggled as her lover used the opportune opportunity to kiss a long her neck. "Does it go on my pile or yours?"

"Sooner or later, it'll end up where it wants to anyway."

"True".

END

[scarletraven1001]

Worth

Bulma is drowning in self-doubt following her break-up with Yamcha, but comfort comes from the strangest of places as her seemingly insensitive Saiyan house guest reminds her that she is worth much more than she believed herself to be.

A three-year gap fic. One-shot.

My entry for @tpthvegebulsmutfest

Day 3: Just This Once

Also on Ao3.

Hi there! Mind if I join the DB fandom? :)

This is my first fan work for this fandom, in spite of being a fan of the series and an avid Vegebul shipper for literally decades. Why did I decide to do this now? Nearly all in-universe fics I have read so far have painted Bulma as a sexually-experienced woman. I wanted to explore the possibility of her being the innocent one in her relationship with Vegeta. I thought that perhaps this TPTH prompt would be the perfect chance to explore that idea.

This is also my first fanfic after being dormant since 2005, so please be gentle with criticisms.

And yes, this is most definitely smut. Enjoy!

8-8-8-8-8 

Worth

8-8-8-8-8

She looked absolutely miserable.

Granted, Vegeta would never consider himself particularly perceptive regarding emotions, never mind human emotions. One glance at the woman though, and even one as emotionally-stunted as himself could see that the woman was unwell.

He had been too busy training for the androids to notice anything that went on outside of the gravity chamber. All he knew was that after the explosion that damn near destroyed him along with the ship, the woman had been even more… friendly towards him. Perhaps she felt a peculiar kinship with him after having watched over his bed-ridden form for several days. Or maybe she believed that he had gained a modicum of humanity from his humbling experience and wanted to help him ease into their world.

Or maybe, she had always been like that, and he had just never realized it until then.

He had always treated her as just another pawn thrown into his life to help him attain a goal. A tool, if you may, to aide him with his mission to attain the legendary. A tool wrapped in a sinfully beautiful face and a body that could make lesser men weep, but a tool, nonetheless.

Regardless of his opinions of her though, even he could not deny that things had changed. He was more tolerant of her, more open to spending time with her, for reasons not even he himself could fathom. Somehow, whether he liked it or not, the little witch had grown on him.

The woman had the audacity to sit with him during his post-workout meals. She fuzzed over his minor injuries as if they were life-threatening, despite all the data she had regarding Saiyan physiology that showed that nothing short of a hole through his entire torso would have any lasting damage on him. Some of the said data came from samples he had allowed the silly woman to take from his own body, just to placate her into allowing him to train in peace.

He recognized her intellectual capacity as being far superior to those of the other beings living around her. She had inventions so advanced that they had to be kept in top secret facilities as the concepts were so far beyond their time that they had to wait for specialized parts to be invented or custom-made.

She was fiery, with a quick wit and temper matched only by his own. She would allow him to vent but would only take so much abuse until she decided to fire back at him. Their arguments were always epic, a volley of insult after insult, but he derived a perverted sense of satisfaction in watching her cheeks turn red with her indignation, her chest rising and falling aggressively with her deep, angry breaths.

It did not take a huge leap for him to imagine her in other situations that would make her flush and pant so powerfully.

But she had a mate, the weakling that often stayed with her, and Vegeta accepted that he had no business fantasizing about her.

That right there was another problem: he had been celibate for far too long, and the woman was too physically appealing. Especially when she was worked up, glaring at him fiercely, a harsh insult on the tip of her tongue.

Which was why her melancholy mood from the past few days struck him as strangely disconcerting.

He started to walk past the female’s forlorn form, seated on a barstool in the kitchen. Her hair, currently a straight cut that fell past her shoulders, shielded her eyes. She had not noticed him there yet, he could still make a run for it.

‘I shouldn’t interfere,’ he told himself. ‘This is none of my business. It is absolutely not my concern if the woman drives herself mad with whatever benign issue she has in mind.’

But damn, if he didn’t miss their quarrels… Her resistance to fix the bots he ruined. Her anger had become one of the highlights of his days, but she had been so out of touch recently that she had simply sighed and walked quietly to the gravity chamber the last time he demanded she repair his bots.

He refused to believe that what he felt was concern.

She heaved a dejected sigh that was so out of character for her that he had to pause and reassess.

‘I will approach her,’ he thought, wondering where this sudden streak of compassion had come from. Whether he would regret this lapse in judgment later…

‘I will approach her,’ he asserted to himself as he began to walk towards her. ‘I will get to the bottom of this nonsense and have the vitriolic harpy back into proper form. I will indulge her human propensity for talking about her problems, but… never again. It will be just this once.’

8-8-8-8-8

“Woman.”

The rough voice startled Bulma out of her self-imposed isolation. She was so focused on her misery, on blaming herself for how things had unfolded, that she didn’t realize that her ridiculously powerful Saiyan house guest was only a few feet away and seemingly intending to sit on a stool across from her.

She watched as he sat down gracefully, then his vivid eyes settled directly on her.

She looked around and noticed that he did not set out any food for himself, which was strange. He normally only ever went to the kitchen to eat, but here he was, seated almost primly before her, not a scrap of food in sight.

‘Maybe he wants me to make some for him,’ she mused. After all, she had done that for him for quite a few times. God forbid he tried to use an oven on his own.

She started to get up to find him something to eat, when his voice, and the unexpected words said in that voice, nearly made her fall off the chair completely.

“What has been bothering you?”

She gawked at him, completely unprepared for the question. ‘So he had noticed?’ she wondered as she righted herself again, still looking at him in surprise.

“Umm… I beg your p-pardon?” she stammered.

He sneered at her before he bit out, “You have been acting like a fool for several days, and I want to know why. Your morose mood may affect your ability to enhance my training room and I want you back in form. I will ask again, and you will answer me properly this instance: What. Has. Been. Bothering you?”

Bulma didn’t know if she should be offended or be touched by his question.

She mulled over it for a bit. What brought this on? Why did he want to know? Was he actually concerned about her?

She considered him her friend, after all. Perhaps he was finally beginning to accept her as his, as well.

Her thoughts had probably started to reflect themselves on her face, as he quickly barked out, “Don’t look at me like that! I just demand to know why my brilliant scientist is suddenly behaving like such a dejected fool.”

She bit back a smile at his words. ‘My scientist?’ she thought with a chuckle, knowing that he was probably too flustered to realize what he had said.

She tried to school her features into a blank mask as she looked back at him, mulling it over. ‘He’s gonna call me an idiot if I tell him. But he did ask.’

Taking a deep breath, she whispered one word, “Yamcha.”

A raised eyebrow was all she got from the Saiyan. “What about him?”

“We broke up.”

“What exactly did you break on him and why has that made you act the way you have been acting?”

She burst out laughing, the first time in days, a kind of cathartic release from the pain that her break-up had caused her.

Vegeta snarled in confusion, and just as he was about to yell at her, she started speaking.

“Vegeta, breaking up means that he is no longer my boyfriend. We are no longer together romantically,” she smiled at him, some of her earlier grief evaporating as she watched him scrunch his face up in confusion.

“Is that the reason why I have not seen his pathetic hide for several days now? I was under the impression that he was your mate,” Vegeta asked, genuinely confused.

“Mate?”

“A lover, a life partner. Like your father and your mother.”

“Oh no, Vegeta! Not like that!” she laughed sadly. “My parents are husband and wife. Yamcha was my boyfriend. It is not the same as being a married couple, but…” Bulma looked down at her hands before continuing. “It entails a certain level of commitment. One that we no longer have, now.”

“Well,” he began slowly, seeming to weigh her words. “If this is what your problem is, why don’t you just ask the weakling to come back?”

She sighed. “It’s not that simple, Vegeta. You see, Yamcha, he… He left me.”

“He was the one who chose to abandon you?” he sounded incredulous.

She nodded. “Yes. He cheated on me. He found someone else,” she laughed bitterly before she snarled out, “Someone who fulfilled his needs.”

A low growl from her alien house guest had her looking back up, and Bulma was startled to find an enraged look on Vegeta’s face. He looked nearly insulted, indignant, and she realized that he was angry on her behalf.

“The ungrateful weasel,” he hissed. “How dare he. Have you not given him everything?”

She was surprised by the level of hatred in his voice as he kept talking, “No self-respecting man, Saiyan or not, should ever be unfaithful to his chosen woman.”

Bulma stared in astonishment as apparently, her words touched on something that was a sensitive topic for the prince.

“I am staying in your home, in your debt, I recognize this fact,” he started again, surprising Bulma further, “But I intend to recompense you by defeating the androids. That fool, on the other hand, has taken from you, and he repays you by betraying you with another female?!”

Bulma felt tears spring to her eyes, touched by his words. Vegeta seemed genuinely enraged at the concept of Yamcha leaving her for another woman.

“You are a highly desirable female on this planet. You have given him your food, your time, shelter. You have given him pleasure, your body, and he dares-”

Her thoughts screeched to a halt at those words, and without thinking, her face redder than a ripe tomato, Bulma sputtered out, “No!”

Vegeta stopped ranting, looking at her in confusion. “No?” he asked, pausing to let her clarify.

She blushed even deeper, before she looked him dead in the eyes, “Vegeta… I never slept with Yamcha.”

“Tch,” he sneered. “Don’t lie to me woman. As loathe as I am to admit it, I can hear the sounds of your copulation through your bedchamber walls. He, specifically, can be disgustingly loud.”

“But you don’t hear me, right?” she asked, the flush refusing to leave her cheeks as she forced herself to keep her gaze on Vegeta.

The look he gave her then was so absolutely mystified that she had to choke back a laugh in spite of her debilitating embarrassment.

“Vegeta, we have… Umm… fooled around. But I have never had actual penetrative sex. Not with Yamcha, not with anyone. Ever. So yes, he may have gotten some pleasure out of me, but I never…” she stammered, before covering her face with her hands and whining, “Why am I even telling you this?”

The Saiyan sat back in his chair, silently mulling over her words. He was looking at his crossed arms, and appeared to be blushing a little as well, but Bulma was far too embarrassed to even think about needling him about it.

When he finally looked back up, he had a confused look on his face again.

“Why?” he whispered, almost too low for her to hear.

“Why what?”

“You were together for over a decade. You told me this. Why then did you never fornicate?”

Her humiliation vanished, replaced by guilt and sadness once again. “I… I don’t know. I honestly don’t understand it either. I mean, I loved him. I guess I was just never ready yet. I wanted to be ready, but I just couldn’t.”

 A sob broke out of her then, and she watched Vegeta tense in front of her, obviously uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken.

“I knew what he wanted. I wanted it too, at some point, but I just can’t. I always froze up and stopped him before we started,” a sardonic laugh escaped her as she shook her head, looking away from his piercing dark gaze. “I was always such a flirt too, you know, back when we were younger. I’ll bet he never expected me to give him a decade-long case of blue balls.”

A hint of bitterness entered her voice as she kept talking, “I tried to fix it. I agreed to touch him, to get the edge off, as he put it. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

She couldn’t stop her next words, as she had been thinking them repeatedly over the past week. “I should have just let him do it… This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have made him wait so long. It was just sex after all, and I could have just -”

“Woman, shut up,” her eyes widened as she snapped her eyes back to Vegeta, and was surprised by the anger that had sprung back into his eyes.

“Shut up. Stop thinking this way. This is not your fault.”

A gasp escaped her as what he said sunk in. She was about to refute him, but instead, he raised a hand to stop her self-pity party, his eyes still hard, but the softest she had ever seen them, and trained directly into her own.

“Listen woman, and listen well, for I will only ever say this once, and if you repeat this to anyone, I will deny having said every single word. The most valuable conquests are always those that you have waited for and worked hard to attain. The measure of a man can be counted only with victories that were hard-fought. You are a woman of worth. The wait and the effort he would have put into courting you should have challenged him to prove himself worthy of your surrender. If the weakling was foolish enough to indulge in inferior liaisons with other females as he grew impatient waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him, then you were right to have never given in because he was clearly never man enough for you. You are not to blame for his infidelity. Never think that his indiscretion was due to your misgivings. You cannot, and must not, force yourself to lay with anyone if you do not want to. It is your body. Your mind, your life. For such things, you must never, ever compromise.”

His eyes grew even more intent on hers, “Now pull yourself back together, Bulma. He is not worth your misery. No man should be worth your tears.”

Bulma was stunned into silence. Vegeta, the alien prince who had spent his life exterminating countless civilizations, had just told her that she was not to blame for her break up. The biggest alpha male she had ever met was now sitting across from her, telling her to never compromise her body, and a cloud of happiness surged into her chest at being told that she did the right thing, to have stood up to Yamcha and not slept with him until she was sure and ready. Tears began to fill her eyes again, but this time with relief that someone else believed that what she did was right. And he had said her name.

Vegeta looked away from her dampening eyes, then slowly stood up and began to walk out of the kitchen.

“Vegeta,” she called, her voice hoarse with her unshed tears. “Vegeta, thank you.”

He nodded at her once, then walked away, his silent steps letting Bulma know that he was headed once again to his training room.

Her heart beat faster, hope blossoming in her chest as her eyes trailed after Vegeta long after he had left her line of sight, and in the back of her heart, a part she was yet unaware of, the name of the proud prince quietly started taking root.

8-8-8-8-8

Weeks passed quickly within the walls of Capsule Corp, and before she knew it, Bulma was buried in so much work that she had no time to eat, and even less time to dwell on her break up with Yamcha.

Vegeta certainly kept her busy: between all the broken bots and demands for more improvements to the gravity room, he always managed to find something for the blue-haired scientist to do. His latest demand: a set of armor to replace the last set that he owned, the one baring the holes that reminded him of his death on Namek-sei.

He was even bossier than before, but Bulma noticed that the man was also a lot more visible. Prior to their fateful conversation in the kitchen, she would sometimes go days without seeing him, but nowadays, like clockwork, he would be in the kitchen at midnight, impatiently tapping his feet while he waited for her to prepare (mostly just reheating what her mother had made) his dinner.

He routinely engaged her in petty little arguments that ended with them screaming at each other, but she could see a peculiar glint in his eyes that she at first could not understand. All she knew was that a side of her, the headstrong little she-devil as he liked to call her, enjoyed the verbal sparring, and she began to see that he did, too. After a few more days, she finally understood… He was doing it to distract her.

He was distracting her from her misery, and it was working. It was working very well. She would never acknowledge it since she just knew he would deny it, but she was unendingly thankful to him for what he was doing. She felt her heart softening more and more towards him, and though she could feel a change coming, she still, stubbornly, refused to name it.

And if his ultimate goal was distraction, well… Those glimpses of his perfect physique while he went about his business without a damn shirt on was definitely an even better strategy.

Physically pure she may be, but her thoughts, turning more and more lascivious at a frightening pace, were another matter entirely.

She had always acknowledged that Vegeta was very attractive. If she was being completely honest, that attractiveness was one of the reasons why she invited him to live with her in the first place.

However, it concerned her how easily she could daydream about touching those delicious Saiyan muscles nowadays, when she had previously been regarded as a prude by her ex-boyfriend. Her ex, whom she had loved for nearly 15 years. And whom she knew had also loved her.

Vegeta, on the other hand… She would be reaching if she even claimed that he may care. Or was she?

Tossing away her improper thoughts, she huffed, blowing her bangs away from her face, to concentrate on fixing the latest casualty of Vegeta’s ridiculous training regimen.

8-8-8-8-8

He knew what he was doing. He didn’t dare dwell on the why’s, but he damn well knew what he had been doing. Didn’t mean he was doing it willingly, and he cursed himself poignantly for his ridiculous actions.

Bulma was now a single woman. And he had unconsciously started moving in on her now that she was unattached.

He was furious with himself. The woman should be allowed time to heal, not to have a monster like himself suddenly trying to siddle in.

It had begun as him trying to, for once in his life, make things more pleasant for another. He wanted the spitfire woman to be back to normal, and he had an idea: He knew that he, personally, always managed to stave off any feelings when he had something to focus on, and he had begun piling work onto her, hoping it would have the same effect… And it did.

The woman worked with a single-minded intensity that amazed even him, barely stopping for breaks even when he could tell that her fragile human body was close to giving out.

He didn’t wish to go as far as bringing her fucking food to her, so he found a way to get her to eat. He started finishing his training at a fixed time, demanding that she make him some food, then giving her some of the said food so she had some sustenance. A couple of weeks later, a routine had been established: they would both stop what they were doing at midnight, head to the kitchen, and she would cook while he waited, then they both ate in increasingly comfortable silence.

He wanted to blast his own face apart with his Galick Gun, livid at his perceived hypocrisy. The Prince of all Saiyans, trying to cozy up to a human woman, whom he knew was probably still nursing a broken heart. He felt like a fiend.

And worse of all, he did not understand why he was doing it, and being the coward that he currently thought himself to be, he adamantly refused to analyze his own motivations. At first he thought he was doing it to get into her pants, but he realized he was wrong when he started thinking less about what she would look like naked, and more of what else he could do to erase the haunted look lingering in the edges of her eyes.

“Fuck!” he screamed in irritation, hurtling a tremendous ki blast at a bot, only for it to dodge, with his blast ending up frying the gravity room’s control panel. The emergency lock down that Bulma had installed after the old ship blew up engaged, and he flew up and crashed harshly into the domed ceiling as the 450g gravity stopped weighing him down.

The woman’s face, smudged with what appeared to be axel grease, was immediately on the communication screen, the lockdown sequence also alerting her that something had gone wrong.

“Vegeta, what-”

“Woman, I am fine,” he flew to levitate in front of her image, quickly cutting off her rising panic. “I missed a fucking bot and blew up the controls. Now you need to fix it.”

“Dammit Vegeta, I told you to be more careful with the room! No amount of reinforcements can protect the sensitive control panel from you!” She rubbed her forehead in agitation.

“I can’t fix it today. I used some of the special spare parts on a machine that locked up in the main engine room, and I need to wait a couple of days for the parts to be delivered. You’re gonna have to find another way to occupy yourself, in the meantime.”

“Woman,” he growled threateningly. “That is unacceptable. Another day I waste not training is another day I do not get strong enough to destroy the androids. We only have less than two years to go and I have not ascended yet!”

“And I still can’t fix that thing today! I don’t have the components!” she shot back, before an idea seemingly came to her and a smile lit up her face.

Vegeta just stared at her brilliant eyes, then angrily shook himself out of whatever-the-hell-that-was when she started speaking again.

“I know! Come down into my lab and we can test out your armor!” she enthused, and he immediately perked up at the mention of his Saiyan attire. She had been working on it for weeks, saying she needed to figure out some compounds to toughen up the material while keeping it malleable enough to wear comfortably.

“Have you finished it?” he asked, barely managing to hide his own enthusiasm at seeing Bulma so animated.

“I think so. I have been testing out my prototype and it has managed to stand up to the strength tests. Your ki blasts are stronger than any artificial energy I could produce though, so I would like to see if it could withstand your ki. It is also soft enough to wear now, unlike my first failed attempt,” she laughed, and Vegeta smirked as he too recalled the unfortunate first suit that could indeed stand up to ki blasts, but was also so tough that he could not put it on.

“You will fix this infernal machine once the parts arrive?” he asked again, just to clarify.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I will fix my beautiful creation that you destroy again and again, once the parts arrive.”

Nodding once, he shut off the communication link before exiting the gravity room, heading for the woman’s personal laboratory.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma was practically vibrating in excitement as Vegeta entered her lab. He was sweaty and a bit haggard, but like his gravity-defying hair, he stood proud and straight, looking around her lab expectantly.

Bulma inwardly groaned as she realized that her mind was currently squealing about how handsome he was, standing there in his tiny lycra shorts and those droplets of sweat clinging to his amazing body, honed and toned by years of hard work.

“It’s in here!” she called out, pointing to a box on the table beside her.

He approached her silently, peering into the box that she had opened, pulling out the blue battle suit and the white breastplate. She handed him the breastplate first, and she watched as he pulled it onto his torso, testing the elasticity.

She noted how the armor hugged him perfectly, nodding in satisfaction as it became apparent that the breastplate was now wearable.

Next, they had to test the strength. Vegeta took the armor off and held it in his left hand, then pulled back his right hand and gave it a solid punch. His punch was strong enough to start tremors within her lab, and she grinned proudly when the armor didn’t even budge.

Vegeta looked up and caught her eye, an impressed smirk on his lips. He then opened up his fist, clearly intending to try a ki blast, before he stopped and regarded her again.

“Woman, you may want to stand back,” he said softly, and Bulma nodded, going behind him to shield herself with his strong body.

He released a small ki blast, and Bulma shrieked in excitement when the armor simply absorbed the energy. Vegeta then used more energy on another blast, and another, slowly increasing intensity until he stopped, turned to face her, and to Bulma’s eternal shock, he grinned, a genuinely happy light entering his obsidian eyes.

“Great work, woman,” he remarked, and Bulma was so ridiculously happy about her success that without thinking, she laughed giddily and grabbed Vegeta around his neck in a big hug.

She felt him stiffen, dropping the armor in his hands to the floor. Realizing what she had done, she moved to release him…

Or at least, she tried to, but his arms, far stronger than her own, suddenly wound around her waist. She looked down at his arms in surprise, not quite believing the sensation of his embrace until she saw it with her own eyes.

A choked sound escaped his throat, and she looked up at his face, her own flushing at the intensity of his gaze.

He was staring at her, piercing her soul with this eyes, and before Bulma knew what was happening, she felt his lips against her own, and her heart burst in elation as his lips moved firmly, demandingly, coaxing a strangled moan from her as she heatedly kissed him back.

His hands roamed her back, caressing her arms, clutching at her sides, as his kiss dominated her, her mouth desperately keeping up with his urgent but gentle movements. She heard him groan against her lips when she moved one hand to clutch at the hair on the back of his neck, the other moving down to greedily grasp the hard planes of his chest.

He wrenched his lips away from her mouth, only to turn his attentions to her throat. She moaned deeply as her hands moved to grasp his forearms, finally feeling the ridges that she had previously memorized with her eyes.

Her sounds seemed to spur him on, as he suddenly grabbed her by the waist with his two large hands, lifting her onto her desk as she impulsively wrapped her legs around his hips. He kept kissing her, becoming more forceful, even as her nails began to rake almost painfully across his muscled back.

A near animalistic growl reached her ears and she found her blouse pulled roughly down her shoulders, trapping her upper arms against her as he continued to ravage her neck, quickly going lower, and she felt his rough tongue lapping nearly at the tops of her breasts. She cried out in delight, clutching his head with her hands, egging him on.

However, as suddenly as he started, Vegeta suddenly reared back, panic in his eyes as he held her back at arm’s length.

“B-Bulma…” he stammered, eyes wide, and she tried to reach for him, to pull him back to her, but he was suddenly gone, the only sign that he was ever there was the breeze left behind by his speed, in his haste to leave.

Numb with shock as what just transpired finally registered in her brain, Bulma slowly adjusted her top, noting that the seams had been torn by his forceful pulling. She stared down at the armor on the floor, reeling from the chaotic thoughts crowding her mind.

But the foremost thought screaming at her from inside her head, was asking just one thing…

‘What the hell just happened?’

8-8-8-8-8

It has been three days since Vegeta fled Capsule Corp, seeking the calming refuge of a quiet wilderness. He had proceeded to systematically decimate the said wilderness, and when no structure or living thing remained standing, he had morosely sat down in the center of the wide span of land, his mind in chaos, his hands itching to either do more damage or cling to the woman that he had run away from.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself, lifting his hand and sending a ki blast onto something that moved in his peripheral vision. He was a mess, he knew, but he had no idea what to do to fix this debacle that he just foolishly thrust himself into.

What had he been thinking?! He was a horrible person and should not dare to touch a woman whose hands were unsoiled by death

But she was so soft, and she smelled so good, and he had been thinking about her so much in the last few days that when she touched him, he lost his damn mind and let himself ravage her.

He thought many times about just leaving Earth altogether, so he could gather his wits about him, but something held him back. He still couldn’t identify it, this damned feeling in the back of his head, that made him impulsively touch her.

She was broken, lonely, and most likely still hurting. And he, a career assassin who never felt anything more than irritation over killing off entire races of beings, felt like an absolute ass about taking advantage of her this way.

But then he realized, he was lonely, too. He always had been. And in Bulma’s loneliness, he started seeing her as a kindred spirit who could complement his own solitude.

He needed to go back.

He blanched at the idea of going back to Capsule Corp, but he steeled himself, mentally protesting that he was no fucking coward and he can go and face the heiress whenever he pleased.

8-8-8-8-8

It was past midnight, but Bulma lay awake, unable to sleep. He was back. She knew he was back, the moment he stepped into her home. She didn’t know how, she had no ki control or detection skills to speak of, but she just knew. She felt it when he went in to take his shower. Knew his routine, that he always washed himself right after coming back from any venture, or right after his nightly meal.

And she was going to speak to him tonight, whether he liked it or not.

When he left three days ago, she realized that all the misery, loneliness and self-blame that she thought she had gotten over had all suddenly come back. Vegeta, brash and uncouth as he was, was the one keeping her sadness at bay, in ways he didn’t even seem to realize.

She didn’t know what it was about him, but she wanted to reach out to him, touch the loneliness she can feel in his heart and heal it with her own. She wanted to hold him in her arms and give him the same comfort and reassurance that he had given her when he told her all those weeks ago that her break up was not her fault.

But mostly, she wanted him here, to help her figure out why, why, she felt this way about him now, and just what this feeling was.

She had been in love before, and she knew what love was. But being around Vegeta was something different, and she couldn’t tell if it was just an intense longing or an even stronger emotion that she absolutely wished to not put a name to just yet.

He was confusing her, and she was sure she was confusing him.

But mostly, she was appalled at what she discovered as she picked up the pieces of herself after he ran off right after kissing her.

She knew, that if he had tried to have sex with her then, she would have let him have his way with her.

It made no sense, how she was so, so ready for him now, in a way she had never been ready in a previous relationship that lasted 15 years.

She was terrified, but in her mind, she knew that this awakened need would not go away until she found a way to make him touch her. She knew that her virgin sensibilities had flown out the window the moment he clutched her close to his body, and she knew that, her inexperience notwithstanding, she truly, undeniably, wanted him.

She started walking towards his room, the one he had selected when he first came to earth to live with her and her family. And as she came closer and closer to the door, she also came to the realization that she didn’t really have any plans regarding what to do or what to say to him. All she knew was that she needed to see him.

She stood outside his door, nerves frazzled as she quickly tried to come up with a way to start a conversation, to have an idea even, of what she was actually doing there.

She ran out of time when he suddenly opened the door, looking at her through narrowed eyes, his body language taut and seemingly ready for flight.

And just like that, she knew what she had to do.

8-8-8-8-8

Vegeta stared at Bulma with trepidation, stepping aside to make way for her, in a silent ascent to let her into his sanctuary. She walked in with a tiny smile, letting herself sit at the corner of his bed, gazing at him through her bright blue eyes.

He felt exposed, standing before her in only his wet hair and loose sweatpants, berating himself for feeling exposed when he knew for a fact that she had seen him wearing much less.

The woman was wearing a thin blue sleeping gown, a thin robe covering her further to protect her from the chilly night air. She appeared unsure of herself, looking everywhere but at him. She then seemed to steel herself, and she looked straight at him, finding her words before he could even think of what to say.

“I fixed the gravity chamber,” she began, her smile widening slightly. “I made some adjustments to the control panel, too. I placed a specially crafted fiberglass material over the controls. It is made from a polymer that I derived from the components I used to make your armor, as that seemed to withstand your ki blasts well enough. I’m not sure it can withstand a direct hit from you, but it can easily stand up to stray blasts. I hope it works well enough.”

“Hnn,” he nodded, uneasy at her cheerful tone and news. He was anxiously waiting for her to begin screaming at him, either for kissing her, or for disappearing without a word.

She surprised him, yet again, when her lips curved into a full blown smile, and she whispered conspiratorially, loud enough for him to hear, “Also, I enjoyed that thing we did in my lab, and I really wouldn’t mind if we tried that again.”

His jaw dropped in shock, reminded that he had initially thought her a “vulgar woman”.

“What?”

“Oh come on, Vegeta. You heard me,” she blushed deeply even as she grinned widely. “I liked it. I wish you hadn’t stopped.”

“W-woman, are you insane?” Vegeta raged, but Bulma stayed seated, seemingly nonplused in the face of his ire. “I took advantage of you there. Why aren’t you angry?”

She just smiled at him, and a blush stole across his own cheeks as he snarled, “Stop smiling! Are you messing with me?”

Her smile dimmed slightly into a more placating stretch of her lips, rather than the earlier almost tauntingly wide, full toothed grin.

“Vegeta, I am not kidding. I really did enjoy it. And I want you to continue where you left off.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded, his guilt at what he had done gnawing at him as he bit out, “Woman you are mad. You ask me to continue? Do you know how much farther I would have continued if I hadn’t caught myself?”

Bulma stood then, walking towards him with her eyes locked onto his, hips swaying tantalizingly, reminding him of how those thighs felt as he clutched them against his waist on that day in her lab. Oh, how he remembered, and now his body remembered it as well. He could feel heat rising within his chest, his mind growing fuzzy as he smelled her delicious scent more strongly as she came closer, and closer…

“Yes, I know. And I want you to,” she whispered as she closed the distance between them, and he could hear her heart beating a frantic rhythm against her chest. She was nervous, he could tell, but she was also determined. “You told me not to compromise my mind and my body. I am not compromising it now. I want you, Vegeta. And I think, you really want me, too.”

He almost reared back, but her small hand, pressed softly against his abdomen, almost felt like a balm on his soul and could not move away. “Bulma,” he started, realizing his mistake when her mouth opened for a soft, pleased gasp, obvious delight filling her eyes at the sound of her name on his lips.

“I will not insult your intelligence by lying to you and denying that I do. I would very much like to have you in my bed, woman. But tell me,” he paused, searching her eyes, “You have not allowed any human male to taint you for as long as you have lived. Why would you decide to give in to a being like me?” he asked, desperately needing her to understand that her body, her beautiful, precious body, should not be squandered on a man like him.

He felt unworthy as he thought back to all the atrocities he committed, all the cheap fucks he had indulged in, and as he wallowed in self-disgust, a voice in the back of his head kept asking him why he even cared enough about this human woman’s welfare to attempt to turn her down on such a delectable offer.

She simply smiled beguilingly at him, her hand on his abs moving up to take purchase on his chest, as the dainty fingers of her other limb moved softly across his cheek.

“I don’t know why, my prince,” she all but cooed as her face started moving closer to his own, her lips barely a hair’s breadth away. “All I know is I want this with you, and I don’t care if you never wish to come near me again, but I need you… I need to know what it’s like… I am ready. And I want to do this with you.”

Something about the way she said that she needed him, wanted him, made something snap inside Vegeta, and he growled, wrapping one arm around her waist as his other hand quickly fisted into her thick hair, pulling her impossibly close. His eyes narrowed, his desire manifesting in his gaze.

“I am no good for you woman. But I will fuck you,” he rasped out, a gasp escaping her as he smelled her arousal like a thick perfume, clinging to each particle of air in the room. “And I need you to really feel, Bulma, because it will only be just this once.”

She sighed, sagging against him as her knees buckled, before she responded, “Yes, just this once.”

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma nearly fainted as the full intensity of Vegeta’s masculinity hit her, a seemingly tactile wave of pleasure that reached her even before his lips descended hungrily onto hers. He was so warm, inhumanly so, but in spite of his heat, goosebumps sprang up all over her body as his hands began to roam, his powerful legs quickly backing her up until her knees hit the edge of his bed.

It felt as if he was everywhere at once, his body wrapping her in its force as he hastily pulled her robe off of her so he could touch more of her flesh. Her thin, sleeveless night gown might as well have been gone for all the cloth did to keep her from feeling his hands as they skimmed across her stomach, winding around her back as he kissed her with even more fervor than the last time.

His lips crushed against hers, taking no prisoners as she gasped, and his tongue swept into the recesses of her mouth like he was starved and desperate for her taste. Bulma arched up, pushing her breasts against his hard chest and he growled against her as he pushed down and made them both fall onto his bed.

She could only hold on to his arms as he assaulted her senses, and she felt a peculiar wetness between her legs, something that she had not experienced with Yamcha. She still could not understand why she hadn’t felt this way for a man she had spent so many years with, and yet she felt so much desire for Vegeta, a man whose sanity and capacity to care for her and Earth were probably tenuous at best.

The Saiyan finally abandoned her lips, moving southward, lavishing her neck with wet licks and strong nips that she just knew would leave large bruises on her skin. His hands, previously holding onto her hips and waist, moved upwards, meeting his lips that had begun to taste the skin at the tops of her breasts.

She felt too hot, but she wanted more, and she found herself uselessly pulling at her night dress in an effort to pull it out of the way so she can have Vegeta touch her more. He seemed to understand, and he reared up, grabbing a hold of her dress, before he savagely ripped it apart, exposing her body in a quick second.

He stayed above her, kneeling as he looked down at her body, his eyes feasting on her nakedness. Bulma flushed deeply as he stared hungrily at her, and she almost moved her hands to cover herself, but a low, warning rumble sounded from deep inside Vegeta’s chest and she obediently kept her hands at her sides.

When he leaned back down again, Bulma was surprised when he gave her a gentle, probing kiss instead of the hot, urgent kisses from earlier. She sighed deeply, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders as his hands continued exploring her form, until his questing hands reached down and cupped her right breast.

She gasped into his kiss, her eyes flying open as he began to squeeze her breast. Vegeta broke their liplock, leaving her to pucker her lips in desperation for more. He merely chuckled, before he began to lick and ravish her throat once again, going lower and lower until his sinfully soft lips finally reached her chest and searchingly wrapped around one of her nipples.

She arched her back, pushing her chest closer to Vegeta’s mouth as a sharp cry of pleasure flew from her startled lips. He sucked on her breast, moving to pleasure the other as he had done to its twin.

Bulma was shaking, the pleasure already too much, and he was only at her chest! She curled her fingers into his thick hair, unthinkingly calling out broken fragments of her lover’s name.

Vegeta’s questing hands felt like they were everywhere at once, and she suddenly found that he had already reached down and was caressing the inside of her thighs.

When had she even spread her legs?! When did she lose her underwear?

She was utterly lost in sensation, and she cried out when his large, calloused hand started edging closer to her center. When he finally cupped her there, she swore that she literally saw stars.

He started kissing her lower abdomen, and Bulma’s heart skipped a beat when she realized that he was about to look… down there. She had seen that place, and it was not very pretty. She didn’t know if she wanted to buck him off or egg him on, as every touch he had bestowed her with so far had been delightful, but she was nervous about letting him see her there.

He must have felt her trepidation because he stopped, his dark eyes looking up at her questioningly.

And suddenly, Bulma, strong, outspoken and sometimes vulgar Bulma, felt her tongue turn to cotton as she tried to speak.

“Ve-Ve-Vegeta,” she rasped out, a deep flush covering her face to her upper chest. “Down there, I…”

He simply smirked at her, “Woman, just take it, alright? I told you to just feel,” he said to her, his devastatingly handsome face distracting her just enough that she didn’t realize that his hand had again travelled down to her core, rubbing her nether lips lightly, making her quake with desire.

She watched as he moved down, eyes searching for her center, and she saw a pleased smile stretch his face as he murmured, “I have never seen a human female’s sex organ before. This,” he crooned, inserting one finger inside her, making her gasp, “is most definitely much more attractive than any other that I have seen.”

Bulma couldn’t even summon enough brain power to quip back at him, as his middle finger slowly began to inch deeper and deeper inside her. She let out a keening noise as another pleasurable shudder racked her body, but Vegeta, apparently as merciless in bed as he was on the battlefield, simply smirked lasciviously, and began pumping his finger in and out of her.

“You are soaking, Bulma,” he remarked, at once embarrassing and arousing her further.

She wanted to lurch forward, thrashing around wildly, but one strong arm placed across her stomach stopped her aggressive movements. She could only watch, helpless but frighteningly aroused, as Vegeta continued to fuck her with his finger, and she could feel a strong pressure start to build up from deep inside her gut.

He increased the speed of his pumping finger and suddenly added a second one, and Bulma felt a spasm begin from deep inside her core, washing over her body until she could do nothing but scream, shocked at the feeling rushing through her body as she shook, realizing quickly that the incredible feeling washing over her was an orgasm.

She was still reeling from her release when Vegeta suddenly pulled his fingers out of her body, and just as she thought he was going to give her a chance to catch her breath, he suddenly grasped her hips with two powerful hands, pulled her towards him, and gave her center a long, languid lick.

Bulma screamed in shock, both at the action and at the pleasure he caused her. She called out his name, not really sure why, but he proceeded to ignore her as he dove down and crushed his mouth against her core. She could feel him kissing her, licking her, his tongue entering her there the way he had pillaged her mouth, and Bulma thrashed about, her arms desperately searching for something to hold onto. Her hands found purchase in his spiked hair, and she curled her fingers into the thick strands as he continued to pleasure her with his mouth.

The now familiar pressure started to build in her again, and Bulma cried out, closing her eyes as she tried to fight off the near hysteria she felt as her climax started taking over her body again.

Vegeta licked her again and again, before suddenly giving a sharp nip to the hard nub above her opening, and the pleasure that washed over her then was so intense that the scream she had been about to release got stuck in her throat, leaving Bulma a gasping mess, barely able to breathe.

She had tears standing in her eyes and she couldn’t quite believe that Vegeta, of all people, was this amazingly good in bed.

He started to crawl up her body, and for the first time, Bulma noticed that he was already naked. She had to wonder when he took his pants off, before her eyes traveled down to fully take in the glorious sight of a fully naked Vegeta.

He was, in a word, magnificent.

His body was absolute perfection, well-muscled and without an ounce of extra fat. Each muscle was well defined, covered in delicious caramel skin.

And when she looked down between his powerful thighs, oh! He was as thick, hard and perfect down there as the rest of his body was.

She reached down, wanting to touch him too, as he had given her so much pleasure and she wanted to give some back. She knew how to do this, as she had reluctantly done this for Yamcha before. But Vegeta’s hand on her wrist gave her pause, and she saw his dark eyes narrow at her before he wordlessly pushed her back to lie down onto the bed.

She didn’t resist when he moved to cover her with his body, his powerful hips cradled between her thighs, his erection pressed snug against her lower abdomen. She thought he was about to enter her, but instead, he planted his arms on either side of her, then he hunched down and kissed her soundly once again, his lips even gentler now, and as he coaxed sighs out of her with his lips, she felt him align himself against her entrance and start to push in.

She stiffened, nervous about the intrusion. He looked impossibly big to her, and despite all of her knowledge on human anatomy, she suddenly had the irrational fear that he might not fit.

His right hand started running up and down her left arm in a soothing caress, seemingly trying to wordlessly reassure her that he was going to take care of her. His tender manner in bed, so unlike his usual gruff self, made tears spring to Bulma’s eyes, and she kissed him passionately as she felt him finally enter her.

A short, sharp pain shot through her, and then…

That was it. She wasn’t a virgin anymore.

She found that she had no regrets, and as Vegeta gasped above her, she looked up into his face and was astounded at how beautiful he was right in that moment.

She was having sex with Vegeta. And it was glorious.

She felt as he pulled back slightly, then pushed back in slowly, and she looked into his eyes as he stared into her own, both gauging what the other was feeling. Bulma then smiled and reached up, stroking his cheek tenderly, before she arched up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Vegeta took that as his cue, and he started pumping in and out of her body, at first slow and gentle, and gaining speed as they went. She tried to keep up, raising herself to meet his thrusts, and soon, they were writing against each other, mindless in their pleasure.

Soon enough, Bulma was lost again, gasping incoherently as Vegeta took her breath away with each movement, each delicious pull and push into her wanting core. Her hands reached around him to clutch his back, his buttocks, clinging to him desperately as he drove them closer and closer to completion.

Vegeta was groaning now, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against her own, his hips growing more and more desperate as he too started chasing his own completion.

Right as Bulma felt the climax creeping onto her again, Vegeta opened his eyes, his  gaze unwavering, refusing to let her look away as he continued to pleasure her. His hands had started getting restless, and he stroked, caressed, and squeezed each part of her he could reach as his steady rhythm started to falter, as her cries kept growing louder, and both knew that the other was oh, so close.

And suddenly, Bulma’s peak came, crashing over like a tidal wave, and in her moment of ecstasy, she felt Vegeta lose himself within her as well, her name spilling from his lips in a mix of a groan and a sigh, the sound of which, Bulma will remember for the rest of her life.

He collapsed then, half on and half off of her, his breathing hard and labored, and Bulma tangled her hands again into his hair.

She sighed, content, amazed at what sex was like, or at least, at what sex with Vegeta was like.

Tomorrow, her doubts would surface again. She would again analyze and over analyze everything that took place tonight until her head ached, but for tonight…

Tonight, she would rest and be careless. Just this once.

8-8-8-8-8

END

[caffeineivore]

On Review Etiquette

So, lately, I have been participating in @sailormoonreviewevent and it brings back some of my best and worst memories of fandoms, not just SM but fandoms in general, and the people who populate them. 

Background information: I’ve been around since dinosaurs still roamed the Earth and geocities sites with animated word-art headers and the like were still the norm. In the case of Sailor Moon as well as other fandoms in which I have participated, I seem to always end up in a peculiar sort of capacity-- on the one hand, I’d pretty much stick to a very small corner of the fandom wherein my ship and/or character preferences kept me mostly away from the vast majority of the riff-raff and the fandom politics, but maybe because I have an inherently bossy and super type-A personality, I’d still end up in some sort of organizational capacity. The whip-cracker, as it were, amidst a bunch of creative types. For instance, in Sailor Moon, I pretty much stuck exclusively with senshi/shitennou. I paid very little attention to fanfics not about senshi/shitennou, and don’t really know people outside of that group. However, for all that, I ended up organizing ficathon for a few years, as well as moderating a writing community and planning meet-ups between members. In this role, I get to see a lot of the nuts and bolts which go on behind the scenes, and, unfortunately, also have to play the bad guy in certain sticky situations, which brings me to the point of this post.

Now, as a fanfic writer myself, I can say definitively that reviews make the world go round. Much as we write for fun, and we write to please ourselves, there is nothing quite so uplifting and encouraging as a genuine, sincere, detailed positive review. You know the type-- the ones that tell you exactly what they liked the most about your fic, in such a way that shows that not only did they read it, but it truly had an impact on them-- maybe it made them reconsider a facet of a character they’d never considered before, or maybe it mentions their favourite lines, or maybe it subconsciously reassures the writer on some point or another which they were uncertain about. Obviously, these are like the gold standard of reviews, and somewhat rare and far between. However, you’ll also get a bunch of “omg i <3 this fic MOAR PLZ”, which is okay too. You’ll probably even get a few with constructive criticism, which may sting at the time, but if the reviewer 1. means well and 2. has a point, it’s definitely worth your time to take their words into account. 

However, then you get one of these other types of reviews:

1. “Why did you write about [character] and/or [ship] they suxxxx [other character/ship] IS SO MUCH BETTER!!!!!”

2. this fucking fic is dumb. you suck. die in a fire. flame flame flame flame flame. trollololol I have no life I live in my parents’ basement and wank over how hard I am even though I need to put people down behind a meaningless screen name to feel better about myself. Not in a million years would I have the balls to say this sort of thing to someone’s face, but on the internet I am a Grade A Certified Prime Asshole and proud of it. [guest review anonymous]

3. So yeah this fic is great and I know it’s marked complete but could you add another chapter? Perhaps with [very specific plot and character requirements to cater into my personal whims] plzkthxbai!

4. Ummm... so why are you writing [characters] in [AU setting] or [different version of canon-- manga/anime/pgsm/etc.]?? MY PREFERRED CANON IS BETTER. WHY CAN’T YOU DO WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO??

5. Update faster plz!!! I need the next chapter NOW!! Actually I needed it YESTERDAY!! WTF ARE YOU DOING WHY ARE YOU NOT WRITING?!?!!?!!

Annnnnnnnd... you count to ten, resisting the impulse to chuck the phone or computer out the window. Take a deep breath, count to ten again, backward this time, and remind yourself that this is just fanfic. Just fanfic. Fandom’s bound to have a few idiots. You want to reply to the reviewer: “Look can u not” but that would be validating them, making them more important than they should be. You tell yourself it’s just a troll, but nonetheless, it hurts. And when you pick up that fic again, you’ll probably remember that one review in the back of your mind, taunting, more vivid than a dozen “gr8 job hope to see more soon!”’s. 

And it’s sad. So I’m about to give everyone who has experienced this (which, in all likelihood, is everyone who has posted a fanfic in any fandom ever) a voice. A loud, stridently snarky one. 

Reviewers: CAN U NOT?? with the trolling????

Look, I’m so glad that you have the time and the means to sit around and chill and read fanfic. It’s a luxury that requires a lot of first world amenities that not everyone has, so kudos to you. But that means, also, that you have a lot of freedoms not afforded to everyone, such as, y’know, the ability to pick and choose what you decide to read and comment on. There will be fics about every possible permutation of character ships in a fandom. There will be fics in every genre, which run the gamut of writing skill from novice to expert. And pretty much every single fic site, be it something privately owned or some behemoth like ff.n or AO3, will separate their fics into categories by character, genre, length, rating, etc. etc. The internetz is a wonderful thing. You can pretty much find anything with a few clicks. Like you can literally probably search for “I want a fic featuring [character A] and [character B] in a high school AU with angsty undertones and make it a one-shot less than 5000 words because I am on lunch break”, and it will take only the minimal amount of effort to get exactly what you look for to fall into your lap.

We all have our fic preferences. We also all know what we do not like. So, let me ask, why the hell do people insist on not only reading but flaming stuff that they KNOW they’re not going to like?? I am a diehard senshi/shitennou shipper and manga is my preferred canon. I KNOW that I do not ship Rei/Yuuichirou for example, so I won’t go out of my way to read fics featuring them. I’m not crazy about fics which feature tons of violence or porn, or lots of OCs, and I tend to dislike fics which make light of serious issues such as self harm or drug abuse, and I draw a very hard line at rape and sexual assault, especially if it features characters below the age of consent. Like, serious, trigger warning, PTSD, nope nope nope nope at Planet Nope. Now, what do I do if I come across a fic featuring any of these things? 

I DON’T FUCKING READ IT. Really. That’s all there is to it. I scroll down onto the next thing. And in the event that, say, I accidentally clicked on something that I figure out isn’t my cup of tea, it does not take any sort of effort to click right back out. Why give yourself grief? But even more, why give the writer grief? Even if it’s totally not your thing, they put effort into it-- far more effort than you did, clicking on their work. THEY are into what they wrote. 

Now, once upon a time, when I was organizing one of the senshi/shitennou ficathons, one of the submissions happened to feature something that NOPED with me very hard. And as ficathon mistress, I had to read it. So I did. And then replied to the author that it was very well written but I could not review it for personal reasons. Then I sent it off to another moderator to read it and give them an actual review. And that is an extenuating circumstance. Most people would not ever be in the position to have to read a fic that they would otherwise not read, or say anything to the writer of said fic. Even in that circumstance, it is not hard to deal with it in a respectful manner. So, why the fuck would someone willingly and knowingly inflict something they know they’re not going to like on themselves and then punish someone else for it? That makes NO sense.

As far as harassing authors to follow your own niche or write more on a topic or story that they feel as though they’re done with? Dude, write your own fic. You have total control over only one person in this world: yourself. Sure, validating what a fanfic writer does is very nice and gratifying, but they are not trained monkeys there to do your bidding and perform for your personal amusement. Unless you’re paying them good cashy money (which, since it’s fanfic, you’re not), you don’t get to have a say in what they write, when they write it, where they post it (if anywhere), any of that. They are under no contractual obligation to cater in to you in any way. And furthermore, when you try to dictate to them what to write and how to write it, the message is this: I Know Better Than You. Do As I Say. You Don’t Know Shit. What You Do Is Not Good Enough For Me. What You Do Doesn’t Matter. The Only Thing That Matters Is What I Want. 

That’s nothing but a goddamn put-down. And when you put down someone who probably put in a whole lot of thought and effort into something which brings them no possible reward but personal satisfaction and maybe others’ enjoyment, it’s really kind of a sucker-punch. If, say, this was the type of interaction between a boyfriend and girlfriend-- the put-downs, the belittling, the dictating, the insults-- we’d all recoil and call it a toxic, abusive relationship. We’d tell the person receiving those comments to get out of there, to get help, to leave.

So, when you make those types of comments, that’s the message you’re sending that writer. Leave. Get out of here. Go away, for your own good, for your own sanity and health and happiness. 

Now think about it, as you’re scrolling through ff.n or ao3 or wherever, looking for that next undiscovered gem. Think about it, when someone shyly asks you to review their fic, or signs up for the first time for a fandom event such as a ficathon or a big bang or a secret santa exchange. Is that the message you want to give them? That they should leave and never look back?

Now think about it again, and remember when you first discovered fanfic, or your preferred fandom, and wrote your first fic. Maybe it was campy and featured every trope on the TV tropes page. Maybe it was a shameless Mary Sue. Maybe it was ridiculously OOC and featured eye-gougingly purple prose. Maybe it was riddled with typos. Maybe you, yourself, looking back at it now, shake your head at how you could’ve written such a monstrosity. But would you have stayed, I wonder, if nobody at all encouraged you? Countless writers fade into oblivion after one fic, or disappear forever, deleting their fics off the internet. Countless people get fed up with fandom and throw their hands up and dismiss it as a lost cause. These things are going to happen regardless, sure.

But why the hell would you encourage that?

[fandomspower]

Destiel fanfics...

Hello guys, how are you doing? Here it is, some recommandations of destiel fanfictions because I read really great stuff on fanfiction.net or AO3 that deserve recognition. So I’ll put the titles, the summaries and some thoughts and opinions about them. Enjoy!

WARNING: all stories will probably contain smut so if you don’t like it... Don’t say I didn’t warned you ;)

-Title: “Destiel Falling” (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7570824/1/Destiel-Falling), by gaaps: Castiel went into the pits of Hell to save Dean. Now it's Dean's turn to save Castiel. Contains smut, fluff and some angst. Single chapter. Beautiful piece of art, touches you right in the feels with lots of emotional moments and a beautiful hand-writing. YOU MUST READ IT

-Title: Didn’t they teach you stranger danger in school? (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8308060/1/Didn-t-they-teach-you-Stranger-Danger-in-school) by It.Is.Real: The pointless, plot-less rom-com AU where Dean accidently sends a text to the wrong number and finds himself interested in Castiel. Contains (kind of) smut and fluff. This one is quite particular in its narration but you get used to it, with a cute little relationship and great characters.

-Title: Missing Pictures (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9615154/1/Missing-Pictures), by pelagia911: AU, A car accident leaves Dean and Castiel in bad shape, but when Castiel wakes up three months later with no memory of his life, Dean has to adjust and decide how much to tell Castiel and how much to leave him to learn again. Contains smut, fluff. A great little fanfic, with a really original story and a good writing!

-Title: Orpheus (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227) by sysrae: AU, The club is Dante's, the room is the Cage, and Dean is only there because he hates himself. He's buzzdrunk from the shots he had at the upstairs bar, and dizzy from the heat. Ugly music thumps his bones, the juddering bassline overlaid with exactly the sort of discordant techno-trash he otherwise wouldn't stomach in a fit. The Cage smells of sweat, sex and spilled beer, the tight space full of half- and near-naked bodies gyrating against each other and – shit, is that guy actually naked? He is, and the two men sandwiching him on the dancefloor look pretty pleased about it. Dean, in his jeans and tee, is practically overdressed, and as he stands there, equal parts aroused and ashamed, he has a brief moment of clarity. Get out. Go home. Stop punishing yourself.Almost, he does. But through the din and crush, he suddenly feels eyes on him, and when he finds their owner, he remembers why he came. Contains smut, angst, looooots of feels and fluff. OKAY THEN GUYS READ THIS ONE RIGHT NOW YOU WON’T REGRET IT. No seriously, this one is on my top 5, just mind-blowing! 

-Title: Every Inch (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8985630/1/Every-Inch), by everycoinhastwosides: 'I know you Dean. I pieced you back together. I know what you like, what you want, what you need.'. Contains (kind of smut). Again, a peculiar one concerning the narration, but with lots of feelings and a absolutely amazing writing.

-Title: Closer (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10550612/1/Closer) by intotheruins: Castiel helps Dean get through a cold, and Dean helps Castiel understand his urge to be closer to the hunter. Single chapter. Contains smut and fluff. UGHGHH this one if one of my favourite destiel fanfic! It’s quite long (maybe a little to much at the begginning?) but totally worth it when we see the result at the end. Gorgeous writing and beautiful story! 

-Title: Say Something (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4509762/chapters/10256823?view_adult=true) , by JhanaMay: AU, No matter how difficult he can be, Dean loves his son. Raising him alone after his mother died hasn't been easy, but with the support of his family and friends, Dean has made it work. Now that Ben is starting kindergarten, Dean hopes that he can finally relax a little, but the challenges Ben faces at school make Dean realize that their struggles are just beginning. When Ben is assigned a new support teacher, Dean finds that Ben isn't the only Winchester who has a problem dealing with change. Contains smut and fluff and a little bit of angst. Guys, YOU MUST read this fanfiction. Another master-piece. The author invented a brillant story, realistic and beautiful like we love them, with a gorgeous writing.

-Title: Shorten the distance (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1035468/chapters/2064625) by GhostGarrison: AU, "Nerdytr3nchcoat" and "Impala67" weren't looking for romance on the dating website called 'dateangels.com'. Castiel was looking for friends and Dean was just looking to get his nagging brother off his back. What they didn't expect to find was each other. I loooove this one, although there are only three chapters, they are really long but allow us to really connect and love the characters as the author portrays them, and it creates something beautiful.

-Title: Bloodied feathers and broken wings (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9276626), by evilwriter37: Castiel is captured and tortured by Mr. Ketch. Sam and Dean have to deal with the aftermath and try to put him back together. Single chapter. Contains torture and lots and lots and lots of angst. Well... this one... is really very painful to read actually, because as it is said in the summary, our Castiel is been tortured and it is really awful to witness (if you don’t like that kind of story, then don’t click really). But since I love angst and see my favorite characters suffer (i’m not even joking), I absolutely love this fanfic!

-Title: The Turmoil (http://archiveofourown.org/works/9843638), by my_soul_is_fire: (Castiel thought Dean understood that these three words were meant for him only. He thought he was about to be free, for he wouldn't have to face Dean's reaction once he'd be dead. But it's not like anything ever goes the way he wants.)Torn between the desire to admit his feelings and the one to keep Dean's friendship, certain he came close to making a mistake, Cas promises himself he will not try to open his heart again.But sometimes, feelings are too heavy to be carried and suddenly, he's a world tumbling down and Dean is left alone with his thoughts and too many words left unsaid, as well with two broken hearts to heal... Contains angst. Single chapter. this fanfiction is a coda from 12x12 (Stuck in the Middle with you), because I’m sorry but the “I love you” scene was totally destiel and I couldn’t help myself at went looking on AO3 and finally found this beauty! 

-Title: A Turn of the Earth (http://archiveofourown.org/works/5138552/chapters/11825306) by mishcollin: Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.Frigging fantastic.(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.). Contains smut and angst. OH MY CHUCK PEOPLE I can’t even begin to describe my love for this one! It is simply a beautiful work of art that made my cry and laughed and cry again because of all the feelings and it is a story you have to read absolutely!

-Title: Ignore the Butterflies: Best friend advise from Dean Winchester (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6564142/chapters/15018709) by impatient14: AU, What do you get when you add Firefighter!Dean to standoffish-Doctor!Castiel? A thousand other fics, you say? Aaaand what’s your point exactly??!?! Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him.Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends.But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.Dean ignores his feelings.That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend.Just ignore the butterflies. Contains smut and fluff. And here is the last one for now, another amazing fanfiction, full of feels and with a great writing. The author just tortures us because of the ust but it is so worth it, the creativity and amazingness of the story is mind-blowing.

Here we go, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did! I’ll probably post other stuff like this if you’d like. Bye dear destiel shippers, love you all!