#some old man yaoi for your monday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

addytheheartbreaker · 5 years ago

Text

"Meet Bezai the Egg"

Name: Bezai Lebedev Cawthorn

Age: 26

Height: 5'9 ft

Weight: 60 kg

Mask singer belong to: Johnny Weir

Friends with: Doll, Dog, Rabbit, Ice Cream, Leopard, Poodle, Lion, Penguin, Bee, Eagle, Alien, Skeleton, Peacock, Ladybug, Purple Peacock.

Appearance: pale white slick side hair, white with gold rings eyes, gold eye-shadow, cheek bones, small beard, white painted nails with gray crack design and a slim but athletic body (figure skating body type).

Clothing style: his fashion design clothing, coats (mainly Russian, Japanese 30's - 50's coat style), fur coats, his egg sunhat, LOTS of bling and jewelly, eccentric or formal suits (Main clothing). Dresses (to his fashion design or Johnny's fashion design), figure skating suits and Johnny's fashion clothing (for formal, party and broadcast occasions).

Fun facts about Bezai:

•the eccentric, narcissistic, flamboyant, stylish and "all eyes on me" Egg man.

•Egg is born a American, Russian and French (his father is American-Russian while his grandfather is French) and he is Japanese ancestry from his mother's side.

•Bezai can speak Russian and French when he was just a child, he taught himself to learn russian then started understanding Japanese when he was 14. He also learned Japanese too when he was 16.

•He is an ally and one of the iconic people of LGBTQ with Leon and Victoria. His sexuality is gay. He is still single.

•Egg is a anime lover since in his early teens. He is a fan of Yuri on Ice and old anime style times. Him and Johnny talk about it on different times.

•Bezai had been keeping his sexuality a secret from public and from Johnny. Johnny has suspected from his behavior after he had found out he had suffered on keeping his sexuality a secret as Johnny was the first person to convinced him to come out and supported him since and today.

•the reason why kept his sexuality a secret is because he had been bullied since childhood.

•as a child, Egg is isolated and trying to fit in to many children and at school. He is an excellent and a honoured student which envied by many students as most boys bullied him. He is also been verbally harassed by boys by calling him homophonic names which is the reason on keeping his sexuality.

•hr started skating in age 15, he is a huge fan of Johnny Weir's skating performance leading him into interesting in skating and fashion.

•he is an egg lover who always eats and cooks egg related dishes. He is an excellent cook and Bezai eats and diet on a healthy lifestyle because of his skating career.

•He is not a fan of fast food because he prefer to eat healthier food. According to Bezai, he considered fast food "a place of wasting your health".

•he owned 4 pets at his mansion and had taking cared properly either himself or his servants. He owned a white stallion, a white snow fox, a Chihuahua and a swan.

•He is a iconic figure skater from Olympic culture, a fashion designer, a model and a interviewer of the Olympian Winter along side Johnny Weir.

•Egg has retired since 2016 due to his injuries gotten worse. But he can still skating properly and begin designing clothing and interview with several Olympian skaters to socialize and teaching/encouraging skaters.

•He had an accident during his skating performance since 2015. He got injured himself both his knee and hips when he is about to do the trick. That accident horrified Johnny concerning his safety.

•He has been pressured so much due to suffered anxiety issues and intense fear of disappointment/failure.

•when he pressured too much, he will 'crack' mentally. He is lucky that he hadn't harmed himself or commit recklessness.

•Bezai's mentor, Johnny is always worried of Bezai's health and his anxiety issues. Fearing the thought of Bezai doing something harmful to himself.

•He had bodyguards and servants to protect, escort and serving him because of his insecurity and needed emergency.

•Egg lived in his own mansion in the middle of a beautiful field, his mansion is a Victorian like castle, a farm for his vegetable harvesting (because of his healthy lifestyle) and his pet horse, a huge gym and a room filled with stuffed animals.

•he is actually a stuffed animal collector, he mainly collect panda, polar bears, snow fox, swans and fluffy and furry stuffed animals.

•Bezai has a soft spot for soft furry fur and he always sleep with a huge egg like bed inside a very soft cushions, pillows and a soft furry blanket. The reason why he is likes anything soft is because he is an Egg. (If you know what I mean)

•the reason why he is sleeping with an egg like bed is because he is afraid of getting caught by dust, germs and caught himself a cold. (If you remember the clues where Egg is inside a big egg container)

•He is a huge fan of Lady Gaga. He had an autograph from his favorite celebrity and he wanted the signature to his most favorite ice skating costume. He even listened to her songs and brought all albums.

•Egg is rocking with heels! He can wear them and dance with it like a real god he is. (Bezai: of course I can rock it, I'm fabulous!)

•He can wear both dresses and suits what ever he likes. If anyone dare to insult or gave him a homophobic insult at him, his bodyguards would murder/assassinated them. He will ignore it and do what ever he wants.

•Egg has a collection of champagne, he only drink it every weekends.

•Bezai and Nicol often compete to each other teasingly as frenemies. Because of the "their chemistry don't mix well" due to Dog's Gothic puck bad boy persona/style and Egg's flamboyant, narcissistic and stylish style didn't mix so well. Bezai often to teasing Nicol by smacking his butt, teasing him into something that makes him embarrassed and bragging for his closeness to Addy while Nicol often to do scare pranks at him (not too much or too far, but didn't do often because of Addy), fake threats, always pulled his egg hat and teased him about his favorite yaoi ships.

•Egg and Ice Cream are partners together before and after the Masked Singer. Because they both food related.

•Egg is really adored to Doll. Addy admired his flamboyance and stylishness (because I have a soft spot to guys with flamboyance and sassy attitude) and all his bling. While Bezai is being impress of Addy's talent, potential on fashion designing, her elegance and Egg literally saw Doll like a model.

•Egg really wanted Doll to become his model because of her beautiful features and body type. However, Doll doesn't wanted to due to my shyness and I had been told that I look like a super model. Bezai convinced me that I am until Nicol caught that attention.

•Bezai becomes Addy's fashionista/fashion designer, her modelling teacher and a good figure to influence her. Nicol proposed him to become Addy's influential to give her better confidence and helping her picking up clothes for her.

•His room when staying at the Masked Singer season 2 mansion, his room is of course Victorian like, pure white with a hint of jewels, ice, crystals and yellow. With his egg bed, fluffy carpet floor, his stuffed animals and mannequins clothing hanging beside his desk of his several designing clothes.

•Egg work out 4 hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to keep his body shape in the same body type.

•he owns two weapons: fork like trident and blades heels/shoes. He knows how to use it and he can fight himself for self defense. Despite he has bodyguards to protect him because of the concerning pressure, he can managed to fight alone or competing someone who challenged him or Egg challenging him.

•Bezai's powers is ice and his fighting style are swan technique style (it is actually flight, he prefer it to be called "Grace style"), agility and balancing (a fox style "skater's style") and some kicking attacks (using his blade heels/shoes)

•Egg is actually a friend to Eagle because they known each other in New York both are interviewers, Peacock since he is a fan to Peacock's performance in Las Vegas, Penguin, Poodle, Alien and Lion together meet each other at the gala every year then Leopard, Bee and Ladybug also met at the gala but the three both commonly have a royal like clothing together.

•Bezai met one of Addy's member from her gang. Narcis the Purple Peacock. Since 4 years ago before the accisent, they first met when Bezai is skating himself at the private skating ring until he notice Narcis's skating first and showing off his skills then the Purple Peacock is offering him a special free drink and complement his professional skating skills.

•the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock even gave him a nickname "ваши милости" ("your Graces" in English).

•Narcis is the one who helped the injured Bezai carrying him out if the ice. Bezai wanted to know who is the mysterious charming man and he also remembered he is actually a Russian man.

•Addy knew it because Narcis told her that he had met the iconic Egg man. He told her not to tell him just yet.

•Egg might have a crush on the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock.

•He CAN'T go out without wearing bling. (Bezai: trust me, I won't go outside the place without wearing my jewelry)

#the masked singer human au #the masked singer #the masked au #mask au #bezai lebedev cawthorn the egg #bezai lebedev cawthorn #bezai #masked singer

10 notes · View notes

argentgames · 7 years ago

Text

Tutorial: RegEx

Happy Monday folks!

Today’s post will talk about a life-saving tool of the trade: Regular Expression (regex for short).

What’s regex?

Regex is "special text string for describing a search pattern“ (regular-expressions.info). It’s basically a way to search through a text document and find patterns instead of exact matches. For example, you could use it to find all the prices on a page (listed in a specific format).

The regex is $[0-9]*.[0-9][0-9], and the highlighted lines in the Text box are the prices that are found. This pattern requires a dollar sign and cents in the price.

If you want to learn more about regex and what all the special syntax is, there are plenty of resources online. regular-expressions.info is great and no-nonsense. If you can’t figure out how to do a specific pattern match, chances are someone has already asked on StackOverflow. There are also many regex tools where you can paste in some text and test out your regex. The above image was created in RegExr.

How do we use Regex?

There are many times in the programming process where we need to do find/replace operations, such as with converting hyphens into proper em-dashes, or adding in voiceover.

Adding voice files to Ren’py is as simple as adding a single line.

voice "audio/VA/Arden/Arden_3.mp3" ar '"Can't you look a little happier to see your old friend? You have the expression of a man at a funeral, not at a dance!"'

Since Chess of Blades was fully voiced, we could automatically add in voice lines by searching for the character name speaking the line (ar, or Arden, in this case), and requiring that the pattern [ ar ‘] starts at the beginning of the line. (There are 4 spaces in the beginning because of some Python indentation rules.) We wouldn't want to be randomly adding in voice lines into the middle of sentences.

Regex is a real life saver since it means we can avoid spending hours copy pasting things.

Hopefully this was useful and will save you lots of time!

Support our future and current projects on Patreon for extra goodies, follow our Twitter for shenanigans, and join our Discord to chat with the devs (and other yaoi/visual novel fans!)

#renpy #visualnovel #gamedev #visual novel #tutorial #regex

12 notes · View notes

thisweekingundamwing · 7 years ago

Text

TWIGW Feb 18 - 24, 2018

Happy Roundup Day!! Once again, a special thanks to everyone who submitted works; it makes our job so much easier, and helps us catch things we may miss in the shuffle. You only need to dive into the Gundam Wing tag to see just how much love still exists in our fandom.

Also, as this is my first week as a mod, please be gentle if you don’t see your work here. It’s difficult to fill in the blanks beyond the submissions we receive.

Thanks so much and have a lovely week!

--Mod Rem

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

Amberly, yourbloodlikewine

In This Light

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.

Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him

Pairings: 2xOC, 3xOC, SoloxOC

Warnings: Original Characters - Freeform, Alternate Universe, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder, gratuitous author indulgence

Ammiehawk

If He’s Anything Like Me

What if not one, or even two, of the Gundam pilots had a son together, but all five? Some genetic experiment gone awry, or is something else at work here? Yaoi

Pairings: 2xSeverus Snape, 4x1, 3x5

Warnings: Crossover - Harry Potter

@claraxbarton

The Green Door

Duo visits an adult novelty store for the first time.

Pairings: 5x2, 3x5, HxM, 1xR, 2x3x5

@duointherain

To Be Human is to Love

Duo and Heero are working a damaged part of their new colony, things go wrong.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Spaced

@kangofu-cb

If You Let Me

If Trowa could give the new residents one rule for surviving the ICU, it would be ‘Don’t Touch Anything. (Especially The Patients.)’. In reality, he’d actually give them a lot of rules, possibly with diagrams for clarity. But his main rule essentially covered the bases. When you worked in one of the largest ICUs, in the biggest medical center in the country, at a hospital known for taking on unstable patients for the most complex and risky surgeries that were performed no-where else, new residents were a menace. Until he meets Dr. Maxwell, the newest anesthesia resident.

Pairings: 2x3, background HxD

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Medical, Doctor/Patient, Nurses & Nursing, Fluff and Smut, this is literally my feel good thing guys ok, I mean I’m not saying there won’t be any angst, but basically this is all WAFF

Of Infinity

The morning after "On The Edge."

Pairings: 2x3x4

Warnings: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, just a big orgy honestly, tithes for 2x3x4, also a sequel, sort of cocktail friday

Lsama_no_miko

Posted multiple fics, too many to list here

Check out their page here

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings: alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn’t just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

@remsyk-blog

Distracting Dissertations

All Wufei wants to do is finish his dissertation and enjoy the rest of the weekend. He just needs to take care of a few distractions.

Pairings: 2x5

Warnings: Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Just an excuse to do it, How else can I put this?

SmallSound

Two Truths and a Lie

A few years after they join Preventer, Duo and Heero are sent on a space mine clean-up mission. Alone in space together for several weeks, the two ex-Gundam pilots find they have time to find out who they are and who they want to be.

Warnings: Some fluff, Some angst, Sex, New love, Polyamory Negotiations, this is gonna be a long one

Thai_Tea_Addict

Wolves and Lambs

On the cusp of war, Remus Lupin discovers he has a son. Facing a prejudiced wizarding world unwilling to believe Voldemort has returned, Remus must now navigate his duties as both a member of the Order and as a father to one Duo Maxwell. Duo doesn’t know a lot about families, but he knows war. HP Fifth Year, Post-GW main series

Pairings: 1x2, 2xHP, 3x4, Romione

Warnings: Harry Potter crossover, Family Reconstruction Act, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Politics, Wizarding Politics, War, Disturbing Themes

@yesacia

Mission: Christmas

Duo gets tired of spending Christmas alone, and realizing he's the only one who celebrates inspires him to bring the others in on the festivities.

Warnings: Duo and Quatre are bffs, Quatre is guilty, Duo just wants y'all to have a merry christmas ok

��Late Night Reading

Duo reflects a little bit about his love for reading and makes an interesting discovery about a parallel between one of his favorite fictional characters and his long time friend he never noticed before.

T for language. This is just sort of an idea, pretty short, it's based when the guys are in their 20s and still adjusting. Comes out of the On Again, Off Again universe.// an older fic from my FF.net account

Pairings: 1x2

Random Duo Thoughts

Random drabbles about Duo's Life Post-War

Pairings: 1x2, 2x3

Warnings: On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Blurbs from a bigger project

Random Quatre Thoughts

Thoughts of Quatre Post-War

Warnings: Recreational Drug Use, Drug Use, Lonely Quatre

Snippets:

@cosmostar

One of the Road - WIP Featuring Heero Yuy and Cathy Bloom

@gw-ficrecfriday

Just Because - Snippet of Quatre Winner, Dorothy Catalonia

@lemontrash

Thursday (300) - WIP 2x5

@lbro009

Insider Snippet: Midii Une - WIP Wednesday

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse snippet - Heero en Route

@noirangetrois

Dancing with the Duke - WIP for Rewrite the Romance

@relenaforpresident

The Agreement - 1xR

@terrablaze514

Touched by an Angel - WIP Wednesday 1x2

Thirsty for a Change - Snippet Sunday 1+4. Quatre POV

Photo Edits/Manipulations

@goldenfirefox

Keep Your Word You Fool!

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

Multiple Contributors

Possible HCs Discussion

@lifeaftermeteor

Dr J and Professor G

@gundamwing-ellesmith

Heero’s Birthday

@robo-rad

Office Workers HCs

Fanart:

@arubees

Zechs and Duo

@drkstars-art

Bizarre Circus - Trowa Barton and Quatre Winner

@enukoblr

Duo Maxwell

@noelleian

Duo Maxwell

Lady Une

@vegalume

Color of old sketch - 1x2

@zibelinbelt

Meet-up in Town

Cosplays:

@kirkettecosplay

Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell

@simulacraryn

Treize and Une - Featuring @renmaxwell and @shinigami-of-excellence

@shinigami-of-excellence

Treize Khushrenada

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

This week’s interviewee is @vegalume found here

#thisweekingundamwing #gundam wing #february 18th - 24th

36 notes · View notes

consumingromance · 6 years ago

Text

Pred and Prejudice: 3 In which the reader asks ‘wait is this weird furry vore yaoi or weird political satire?’

Where had he gone wrong? Between their first encounter at breakfast and the time that Roque left, Alex hadn't been able to think of anything to say... or if he should say anything at all. He wanted to say something. It had been hard to even play his game, he was so distracted.

He got that asking Roque out wasn’t exactly uncomplicated. Maybe his eagerness had made him move too soon. Asking a guy out right after meeting him when he knew he’d be seeing him again was a bad move. It was just, he knew he'd have to ask Roque if he wanted to hang out when he wasn't working while they were alone in the house. He knew he'd have to do it before either of his parents got home. What if they decided to come home early? They did that sometimes, working from home for the afternoon.

His parents...that was another problem.

Alex suspected their unexpected telecommuting afternoons were because they didn’t trust him to be alone in the house. Like they thought he was gonna throw a party on a Monday or something. Or maybe they just wanted another chance to lecture him about the more productive things he could be doing with his summer.

‘I work for your parents.’ Yeah, Alex knew that. He also knew his parents might not want him dating a prey kid from the cleaning service.

They were all right with him dating guys. It was just he had to date the right sort of guys. They’d loved Slaine, his best friend since forever. Slaine had been his first boyfriend and his first ex. Slaine was the “right sort.”

They were different species, but they were both canines and he came from a good family with plenty of good connections. For his parents, everything came down to a sort of power-play game, and advancing your social or economic position was the only way to win. For them, it was a matter of practicality: There wasn’t any advantage in dating prey, especially not a penniless prey guy who scrubbed toilets for a living.

Alex hated that bullshit. He wanted to date people because he liked them, not because of what they could do for him. He just wanted to have fun, and his parents would never understand that.

Then again, his parents didn’t have to know about them dating. Alex was an adult, nineteen, old enough to do what he wanted without permission and Roque was at least sixteen and not their concern.

He paused, thinking that over. Just how old was Roque ? Did he really want to date a high school kid? Well, maybe just for the summer. Three years max wasn’t that big of an age gap. Roque might have been older, anyway. It was hard to tell since Roque so pretty he'd probably always look young. He was pretty short too, and not just because Alex was taller than average. So really, he might be even closer to Alex's age, and that wouldn't be a bad thing. They were both old enough to make their own choices and Alex’s parents shouldn’t matter.

But they did matter, Roque had made it matter. " Keep things professional ." Right. That was the logical thing to do.

Alex knew where Roque ' worries were coming from. Who knew what his parents would do if they found out about a relationship-- if there even was a relationship? Fire Roque on the spot? Kick Alex out?

Then again, even if they didn't care or overreact, it would be easy enough to make sure they didn't find out. As long as Alex didn't do anything while Roque was working, or say anything in front of his parents, they'd have no reason to suspect anything. He and Roque could figure something out around Roque ' work schedule.

He'd already managed to keep it professional this morning, trying to be considerate and remember that Roque was, in fact, working. He’d secretly kept an eye on Roque , glancing out the theater room’s open door every so often to see what he was up to, waiting for the right moment to make his move. He wasn’t going to bother him, just wait until he was taking a break or finished up. Alex had hoped that if Roque wasn't focused on his job, he'd be more receptive to his offer.

Alex had also put a lot of thought into what he would ask and how he would ask. He figured that Roque had to be saving up for something, given that he'd mentioned working all summer, so a nice, free dinner would be tempting enough, right?

Wrong, apparently.

Was it the way he’d ask? He thought he'd been very careful and considerate by only saying ' take you out ' and not mentioning 'dinner' at all. If he'd accidentally said " take you out for dinner " for example, instead of " take you out TO dinner ," well, Roque might've taken that the wrong way. ‘ I want to take you out for dinner' could easily become 'I’d love to have you for dinner, as dinner' if Roque was being particularly sensitive. Maybe he should've mentioned the free dinner if it was, like over dinner. I’d like to get to know you, maybe over dinner. Somewhere nice? Your pick?

Then again, maybe somewhere nice would have been too much-- especially if the problem was that he moved too fast. But he wanted to give Roque a reason to go, to give him a chance. Agreeing to dinner so Alex could prove that he was nice and just thought that Roque was cool.

Alex headed to the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate fudge ice cream. He opened the cabinet to grab a bowl but thought better of it, instead just reaching for a spoon and taking the whole tub back to the tv room.

He sighed heavily as he sat down. He’d spent so much time planning their date it'd never occurred to him that Roque would say no.

And maybe that was the reason it was so hard to just accept the ‘no’ and move on. He'd spent the morning planning where they'd go (out of town, so that no one they knew would cause a problem over the pred/prey thing), and trying to think of things they could talk about (school for Alex, maybe find out more about why Roque was working).

But all his planning had come to nothing. He’d asked and Roque said no. Then repeated it just to be clear. No number. Roque didn’t want anything to do with him….or did he?

The way Roque had responded at first seemed so excited. “You would?” Like he was shocked Alex liked him, but it was the best surprise he’d had in a while. Alex could have sworn he’d seen him smile then. A dopy half smile that gave Roque a sort of dreamy expression, before he’d quickly replaced it with his bland, professional expression. Alex ate another scoop of ice cream, thinking about that switch.

So, maybe Roque actually was interested, but he wasn't willing to cross the line into 'probably not the best idea' dating habits. Maybe ' I work for your parents ' wasn't a convenient excuse, but a regretful explanation. Because even when he'd said no, he'd given Alex another smile, bigger and surer and most certainly genuine.

Alex sighed, remembering that smile. It could light up a room. Despite the sting of rejection, Alex had found himself grinning back like idiot. That smile made him feel like he could do anything, although he'd had enough self-control not to push his luck one more time as Roque left. Roque had, in no uncertain terms, turned him down. Alex didn’t want to turn into some stereotype pred lecher, stalking prey into the streets because they seemed like easy targets.

A sudden headache drove his thoughts to a crashing halt. Ugh, brain freeze. He looked down at the carton. There was enough for one, maybe two more spoonfuls, but he’d done a number on it. Shit, he hadn’t meant to eat that much. When his mom saw he was going to get a lecture on ruining his dinner and cavities. God, he hated when she acted like he was a pup. He was a grown man!

...A grown man sitting in his boxers while he played video games, eating ice cream out of the carton and feeling sorry for himself.

He had to let this go, or maybe make other plans for Friday morning. Except that would mean being up, dressed, and sometime before 8 am. He didn’t even do that during the school year, and he did not want to do it during summer. Maybe other plans could just mean sleeping in really, really late so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness.

He scooped out the last of the ice cream before setting the carton down and getting back to his games. Time to let it go and stop thinking about Roque so life could get back to normal.

Hours later, Roque was STILL on his mind.

He’d never considered before how hard it could be not to think about someone. Because if you made a conscious effort not to think about something, you ended up thinking about it as that thing you didn’t want to think about. Like, should he avoid Roque for the rest of the summer? Not look at him not speak to him? Was that polite, or was thinking about NOT thinking about him and planning his day around trying not to bother him obsessive in and of itself?

One thing was for certain: it was more than a bit creepy to schedule his life around some guy he just met. Better just to act natural, and if natural for him was friendly and maybe a little flirty...well could anyone really fault him for being himself?

Ugh, why was life so complicated?

He was actually relieved when he heard the garage door open signalling his mother was home. They could talk about her day and he could help her with dinner, and that would take his mind off not having his mind on Roque . A day full of video games certainly hadn’t distracted him.

“Alex!” she called, “a little help please?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he called as he turned off the system. He looked at the empty carton of ice cream...better put it in the waste basket for now and take that out to the garbage bin later, hopefully before she noticed it.

Alex found his mother in the doorway of the garage, holding the door open with her hip as she juggled groceries. He darted forward to take some the bags. “Here, let me get those,” he said.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she said, giving him a smile. “Did you have a good day? Well, plenty of time to talk about that later. There’s more groceries in the car, plus some yard signs I need to put up.”

Alex nodded, letting her pass through to the kitchen so she could start putting groceries away. He headed into the garage to see what else there was to bring in. He hoped she’d picked up more avocados, or at least bananas. He’d seen an industrial-sized thing of protein powder in the pantry, but he needed more than that to make a decent smoothie.

He popped the trunk and saw a pile of yard signs. They were dark blue with thin red lines framing campaign slogans in bold white letters: “Carnivores First!” and “Great Again! As Nature Intended”. He rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it a little early for yard signs?” asked Alex. He picked up the groceries. Obnoxious slogans could wait, better get anything that needed to be in fridge put away. Once he was sure he’d gotten all the food, he tucked the signs under one arm and carried them inside. He hoped his mom didn’t expect him to help put these up.

“It’s never too early, not once our party has a nominee,” she said. “Especially after such a divisive primary.”

Alex did not like politics. Alex did not want to really talk about politics. Why had he opened his mouth to say anything? “Well, at least you and dad won’t be fighting anymore,” he said. “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you’re supporting this guy now. Didn’t you tell dad voting for him was an embarrassment last Christmas?”

“No, I said some of his remarks were embarrassing to the party, which could hurt us in the general election. Hopefully, now that he’s the candidate he’ll be more...presidential.”

“Right, yeah, somehow I doubt a reality TV star can manage presidential. Besides, no matter what he says, there’s no way he’ll win. He wants to legalize eating prey,” said Alex, “I don’t feel like anything he says will get him their vote.”

“Alex, don’t exaggerate,” scolded his mother.

Alex didn’t think he was exaggerating. His father had kept the TV on a constant stream of conservative news last summer and during Christmas break. Alex tried to think back... the speech seemed bit rambling (even just the snippet the news kept airing on repeat) but he was pretty sure it had included something along the lines of ‘ people are saying-- good people and I can see where they’re coming from-- they’re saying we should just go back to eating prey. Why not eat them, at least that way they’d contribute something. ’ Then something about crime and prey being responsible, but that some prey were good people.

“What Dognal meant was that prey have a lot of children, which means they have a lot of mouths to feed, which means that many of them turn to crime to support their families," she said. "And it's mostly preds' tax dollars that pay for all of it. I’m sure he wasn’t serious about actually eating prey, just that preds bear most of the burden and don’t get enough in return. That’s why your father likes him so much, he tells it like it is and our taxes are ridiculous.”

“So we should eat them,” Alex deadpanned.

“So they shouldn’t take advantage,” she corrected. “A lot of people can see the point he’s trying to make. That if we could eat them, at least our tax dollars would come back to us. But he’s not serious, it’s just political hyperbole. He’s just going to make sure preds are treated fairly. Besides, I don’t have to support everything he says to support him over that chinchilla woman. And it’s not about one issue, Alex. You’re not even old enough to really worry about taxes yet, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right,” he said. He really didn’t want to talk politics. As much as he didn’t want to be seen with the things, at this point he’d do anything to get away from this conversation. “So should I go put these out in the yard for you, then?”

“Thank you,” she said brightly. “I’ll start dinner. Ostrich or chicken? I got ground ostrich so we could do burgers or tacos? Or I could roast the chicken, do up some sides if you’d rather have that?”

“Burgers,” he called as he headed out to the yard. He moved quickly, stabbing the metal stands into the lawn and leaving without worrying too much about where he put the signs or if they were straight. Let his parents fix them if they cared that much.

When he returned to the kitchen his mother was shaping the meat into patties. “Can I have a fried egg on top and avocados?” he asked.

“Since when did you get so fancy?”

“Come on, I’ve been living on dorm food,” he said. “And I’ll help cook.”

“Do I want to risk a kitchen fire?” she asked, then laughed. “Kidding, kidding. Why don’t you start cutting the avocados while I finish forming the patties.”

“On it,” said Alex.

“And you can tell me about your day,” she said. “So, what were you doing?”

“Oh, you know, relaxing. I need to unwind a bit after finals, right?” he asked. “I met the cleaning guy, I didn’t know we had one. Where was that when I was still here?”

“ You were the maid service when you were still here and it was called chores. Now that you’re away, your father and I get a little help. He’s a nice boy.” Her voice was warm and approving, like Roque was some sort of feel-good story on the news. “A real credit to his sort, you know? So hard working.”

“Yes, wouldn’t want him to lose his position just because I’m back for the summer,” said Alex. “So he can keep the chores.”

“He does a better job than you did anyway,” said his mom. “But you really should do something productive this summer, you know?”

Alex groaned. How did he keep falling into conversations he didn't want to be having? Well, at least they weren’t talking about Roque at length.

“You haven’t told me about your day, yet,” said Alex. “I’ve been away for so long, and I miss hearing my darling mother tell me about her day.”

“Anything to avoid talking jobs, Alex?” she laughed, but then went on to vent about things at the office.

They continued to talk as they prepared the food, and when his dad got home and they sat down to dinner, he got an earful about his dad’s office and commute and the latest sports stuff. His dad asked him if he’d thought about getting a job but didn’t push it, and the rest of the evening went pretty well. Roque’s name never came up and Alex didn’t want to make it a big deal anyway. He was going to concentrate on not thinking about Roque, right? So probably best not to mention him again. That way, it’d be easier for everyone, Roque included.

#pred and prejudice

1 note · View note

jinjikook · 8 years ago

Text

she’s so nice (M)

word count: 2.7k

genre: mild smut + angst ; asshole!hyungwon

pairing: reader/hyungwon (side reader/namjoon for a hot second)

summary: hyungwon’s in a local band and he gets all the girls, including yourself. the thing is, you know he’s shit but you’re just too nice to stop fooling around with him.

warning(s)/kink(s): oral sex, dirty talk, mild degradation, semi-abusive relationship, no strings attached relationship, basically hyungwon is an ass and he’s not afraid to show it don’t say i didn’t warn you

a/n: this is my entry/participation for mxwriter’s songfic project. the song i semi-quoted and used for inspiration is Pink Guy’s She’s So Nice. let me warn you, it is a very explicit song and i don’t agree with everything he says in it but i like it as a parody/joke song but it truly is really filthy-dirty-terrible and i no way condone the treatment he’s expressing in it but this is all fiction and i mean no harm in listening to it and writing this fic. i’ve sufficiently warned you so don’t come to me bitching about how this triggered you. thank you.

music: pink guy - she’s so nice

masterlist

gif credit

Being nice has its faults.

For starters, it’s how you got where you were right now:

On your knees sucking off the lead bassist and backup singer of the local hit band of your miniscule town.

They were well known in the area, halfway due to the fact that your grand little town’s population is a whopping number of 1,212, allowed just about everyone to see one of their performances at least once in their boring ass lives. It was one of the few highlights in this barren wasteland, you unfortunately had to say.

No one ever really stays here, it’s boring and most kids grow out of its minimal charms well past the time they hit puberty. So it’s no surprise that you only find entertainment in a few things; one of which was music so you always attended every show the group, No Mercy, performed. You were a known “groupie” of the band, along with the lead rapper’s girlfriend and the lead singer’s little brother.

The other?

Well, it was exactly what you were doing.

No better way to kill time than to fool around, right?

Hyungwon tugged at your hair, making you pull off him completely. He forced you to look up at him, lips slick and shiny in the low lights from being backstage. He smirked, loving how debauched you looked and he made quick remedy of his lapse in action by reattaching your mouth to his length. As your lips slid lower he groaned, letting his head roll back and fingers card into your hair deeper, keeping you at his base for a couple of seconds. While it burned your lungs due to the lack of airflow getting to you, it was Hyungwon’s favorite so you braced yourself to put up with it.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Hyungwon drawled, easily aroused from just the sight of you on your knees, let alone with his entire dick inside your velvet-hot mouth. “Mmm, never met such a nice girl before…”

You see, Hyungwon wasn’t from this town originally.

He’d grown up in the big city, somewhere far away where movie stars and Broadway singers were born; nothing like the sad sack that was your own hometown. He came here his freshman year of high school because of his parents, something about his father getting the unfortunate transfer to this town. So he made due with what cards he was dealt, having been born with the blessing of a pretty face and a sharp enough tongue to keep himself afloat among the bullies and predators alike.

Luckily for his (current) bandmates, he had a knack for music so he was quickly welcomed by the young and hormonal teens that were the origins of No Mercy. Gunhee had thought Hyungwon was only a pretty face but Kihyun was sure they could make use of him, even if that was all he could bring to the table. Turns out they lucked out when Hyungwon got his hands on his uncle’s old bass and revealed what his nimble hands, elephant memory and innate ability to catch on quickly could manage.

He was secured a spot in the “exclusive” band that was guaranteed to get him some serious pussy. Their words, not yours.

They weren’t wrong though.

Being in the band, like you said, was a highlight. It meant you were special; different. Girls wanted that small sense of importance of going out or fucking a celebrity, albeit a local one. Anything to get a spark of adventure from an otherwise drab lifestyle.

These guys were the ones dads warned their daughters about, the ones that other guys fantasized being. In this town, they were the guys that trashed hotel rooms and had their faces on the news more times than you could count.

In this town, that counted for something.

“So fuckin’ nice, let me use you all I want,” Hyungwon continued, hips pumping forward in their own rhythm, slightly erratic and off-tempo which wasn’t usual for the otherwise musical male. He was probably close and you thought about pulling off and finishing him with your hand. But he had a thing for facials and you knew that’d be too damning since there was no way you’d get it all off before needed to head to a restroom to properly clean it off.

So you just sucked hard, brought your other hand up to rub his balls until you felt them tighten up and his fingers followed suit, keeping an iron grip in your hair as he emptied himself into your throat. It was slick and you nearly choked on it but you breathed through your nose and waited for the burn to die down before swallowing. Hyungwon groaned once more, a little too loud for your tastes, before finally letting go of you and you nearly fell back on your haunches from the recoil as his grip loosened.

He barely gave you enough time to swallow and wipe the excess spit and come around your mouth with the back of your hand by the time he was already zipped back up in his pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best stress reliever, you know that? Gotta head on stage now though, don’t wait up.” He was already up and out the door and you meekly waved goodbye, a gesture he’d probably never return.

You were just too nice to do anything or say anything about it. So that’s how it worked between you two. He’d want you to suck his dick or a quick fuck in the closest janitor’s closet you could find before a gig. And you’d let him. Every damn time.

○ ◐ ●

“Wasn’t that just incredible?” Eunwoo began, her eyes lit up like Christmas lights that were strung up too soon in the excitement of the now-tainted holiday. “It has to be one of their best shows! I can’t believe Kihyun and Wonho kissed onstage! We knew they had to be dating, they can’t deny it now!” Not like they were hiding it in the first place, they were practically giving people mono just from staring at their blatant PDA.

You nodded and let Eunwoo have her fun, knowing she was one of those girls that glamorized everything No Mercy did, whether it was good or bad or illegal or just downright wrong. She still can’t believe you’ve had Hyungwon inside you on multiple occasions, though she always seems to phrase it as if you two were some thing. As if it was more than just quick fucks on Monday mornings or him needing to taste you after fucking some brainless chick at an after party.

She had been so sure that Hyungwon looked at you during one of their more sensual songs, the slow lick of his bass making tingles rise up your spine as you watched what his deft fingers were capable of; more than just playing a bass, that’s for sure. But Hyungwon was definitely not looking at you, his eyes were on the girl who just turned 18 and was celebrating her birthday at this club, barely there tits popping out of her three-sizes-too-tight dress and making Hyungwon feel like he was a freshman all over again.

You knew you’d never get anything real out of Hyungwon, not like it’s something to be desired anyways. He’s a nobody when you get down to it, a one-hit-wonder in the industry of music. He’d probably never get out of this wormhole now, while you at least had a semblance of a chance to escape. He’d stay here and age terribly and watch as some new youngsters come in and steal his legacy and probably his bass too because no doubt they’ll be little criminals like themselves.

That’s the only way you can get through all this torture, you just had to convince yourself that you’ll get out eventually and he’ll just be a stamp in your passport; long forgotten and worn down by the time you actually do remember to look back at it.

Sighing, you let her believe whatever the fuck she wants as you downed the rest of your lukewarm beer, ignoring the disgusting taste that resembles the bitterness of your own apathy and the dewy condensation that clung to your fingertips.

○ ◐ ●

You were backstage, as usual, and the two main singers were already up to bat with their excessive displays of affection.

“Ki, could you at least wait until the rest of us leave before you shove your tongue down Hoseok’s throat?” You groaned as you literally watched their mouths break with a line of saliva between their lips, something straight out of a B-list porno or some shitty yaoi anime.

“Y/N, you need to get some dick man. Hyungwon might be available after he finishes giving that birthday girl her gift,” Kihyun joked, trying to give you a sly smile but getting intercepted by a sharp jab of Hoseok’s elbow against his ribcage.

“Don’t listen to him. I heard the bartender here is actually a pretty cool guy, if you wanna go see him?” Hoseok sweetly pieced his words together carefully, knowing he was already treading on a sensitive topic that his boyfriend so barbarically threw himself into. Hoseok hated what you got up to with Hyungwon, because he knew it was pointless; a hollow relationship at best.

Give it to Hoseok to always look out for you, like an older brother you never asked for but are happy to have been graced with anyways. You thanked him and allowed them to get back to their dirty antics while you scouted out this so-called cool bartender.

Seeing him still stationed at the bar, you perched upon the stool furthest from the stage, where a little light made you less washed out and the sounds of Kihyun and Hoseok making out were less audible.

Up strolled the bartender, right on cue, with a soft smile and warm brown eyes. When he grinned, little dimples toyed on his cheeks and you fought the urge to dip your digits into them just to see if they were as deep as they looked.

“Hey there gorgeous, what’re you craving?” His name tag read ‘Namjoon’ and you met his smile with your own, the feeling of the edges of your mouth tipping up feeling foreign and unfamiliar to you. It’d been so long since you’d smiled so grand, so genuinely.

This was what nice felt like.

“Well, I’m feeling particularly thirsty, so… maybe you?” You giggled—you never giggle, what was happening?—and Namjoon mirrored it with his own small laugh, something that was a lot higher-pitched and cuter than you would’ve pegged for such a strapping man like himself. It was fitting though, how warm his laugh sprouted from him, like he laughs every day, like clockwork; the sun coming up and descending with his chuckles. You wished you could be that happy.

“That was smooth, I’ll give you that. A round on me?” Namjoon offered, already holding up the bottle of brown liquor that you’re sure is either cinnamon or vanilla laced, the smell already so strong from where he held the bottle upright. You nodded and let the amber liquid fill the small glass he had in his other hand, momentarily letting your fingers graze his own when he handed it over.

“I’m not actually supposed to drink on the job, but I wouldn’t want a pretty lady like yourself to be drinking all by herself so,” He poured himself a glass and raised it to signal a toast, the sound of your glasses clinking resounding in your ears. It felt like New Year’s Eve, the impending countdown making you itch to reach over and kiss the closest person next to you. Which happened to be Namjoon, what a coincidence.

A few more drinks in, and you two were bantering like nothing. It turns out Namjoon is not only a great conversationalist, but he also an aspiring musician himself. He likes to listen in on the local talent, thinking about becoming a producer and maybe making songs for them to perform. It was a great dream to pursue, certainly more tasteful than Hyungwon’s own ‘I want to fuck a girl in every venue I ever perform in’ fantasy.

You looked down at your phone and realized that you’d been talking for nearly an hour, the time whirring past so fast because of how easy conversation between the two of you came. You were ready to ask Namjoon the golden question, the whole reason why you approached him in the first place. You leaned forward, letting your biggest puppy dog eyes come into play and you made sure to use your signature move of gently stroking Namjoon’s arm as you spoke.

“So, I was thinking if maybe you and I could—”

“Really Y/N? Already trying to find someone else all because I was busy?” Hyungwon came up from behind you, reaching for the remainder of your drink and downing the rest of it. He slammed the glass down harshly, making you worry that the glass might’ve cracked from the force. You flinched at the sound, Namjoon’s expression molding to one of confusion as his eyes skipped back and forth between Hyungwon and yourself.

“Listen, now you could stick with this chump and he might reward you with whatever shitty tips he made tonight or you could score with a real rock star and actually get to come tonight.” He pursed his lips and tapped his talented but most likely dirty fingers on the countertop of the bar. With one eyebrow cocked, he eyed you up and down before realizing you weren’t making a move to leave with him.

Fuck Hyungwon, you were having a perfectly nice time here with Namjoon. He knew how to respect you and treat you right and make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and—

“I see how it is. Well, in that case,” Hyungwon was clearly unhappy, and it’s because he’s grown up as a spoiled brat. He always got what he wanted, including you. Partly because you were too damn nice to say no and partly because Hyungwon, as much as it pained you to admit, was a pretty good lay. He turned to Namjoon and gave him a sneer. “When you go down on her, tell me how my motherfucking dick tastes.” He chuckled and left without another word, leaving Namjoon gaping from his statement and you flushed out of embarrassment and maybe slight arousal.

It was because your body was nice too, that’s all.

“Man, am I sorry you have to deal with that prick. Just like the rest of them, gets discovered on a minor scale and they still get the biggest heads.” Namjoon reached for your hand and stroked the top with his thumb as he spoke in soft syllables. “Listen, I’d love to take you out sometime. I have to finish my shift and I’m working late tonight but,” He handed you a napkin with his number scrawled on it, just barely legible. “Call me sometime, okay? Don’t let guys like that,” He points his chin in Hyungwon’s direction as he’s seen chasing another skirt. “Get to you.”

You nodded and politely smiled before excusing yourself, heading to the back of the stage where you’d no doubt meet with any of the members that still remained before heading to whatever after party they’ve delegated they’ll appear at.

You’re met with an empty area, the boys already cleared out and having long forgotten you. It had been an hour and you were clearly getting along well with Namjoon, they probably assumed you’d be going home with him or he’d at least give you a ride to your own apartment. The only reason one member remained was because he was too busy fucking some girl in the less-than-hygienic bathroom here at the club.

“Well, well, well. It looks like someone struck out,” Hyungwon drawled from behind you, already snaking his arm around your waist. You tensed for a moment, feeling like prey trapped in the corner as the predator watches hungrily at their dinner helpless and at their disposal. “Guess you’ll have to come with me then.” He murmured into your ear, the feeling of his liquor laced breath warm against the shell of your ear. It wasn’t the warmth you felt with Namjoon, but you slowly began to realize something as Hyungwon led you away.

That kind of warmth doesn’t happen for people like yourself. Because you’re just too nice to give into that selfish feeling.

Looks like Hyungwon gets what he wants, like always.

#mxwriters #mxwriterslyricalwritings #mxnetwork #kreativewritersnet #monsta x #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #monsta x fic #hyungwon fic #monsta x imagines #hyungwon imagines #monsta x scenarios #hyungwon scenarios #kpop #kpop fic #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

272 notes · View notes

chickpow · 8 years ago

Text

Romeo and Juliet

Chickpow here: I found an old disc/floppy disc in my attic containing a lot of very old fanfiction from authors and websites that are either gone or taken down. I am not the author but I would like to share what I’ve found. if you find the author please let me know so I can credit them properly. Thank you and enjoy

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

Romeo and Juliet

Okay, lets get started. First and foremost, I don’t own anything and I am completely broke. But thanks to DBZ there is a story, and thanks to dear old Shakespeare, it is almost original. Now this story is rated NC-17. Get some lemonade, it’s hot. Yaoi, Goten/Trunks, and lots of fluff. Be warned.

Romeo and Juliet

By: Melly-chan

Junior Hopkins High School for boys. The dubbed, Hell on Earth. It is a nice campus, if one cared what a prison looked like. To the students, it is ultimately a joke. All the classes are ride through and even a jock can pass.

Why the school is announced as pristine is beyond me. It sucks. The teachers suck, the classes suck, hell even the students sucked. But who am I to say that, I am one of the students.

One good side that the school possesses, is that Gohan had not attended. It is all I need to spend another year in his shadow. Constantly being sold as the ‘let down’ of the family.

"Chichi is such a nice woman and Gohan is so intelligent. I wonder what went wrong with that youngest though. He is a strange one."

Okay so I never exactly heard anyone say that, but I know they thought it. How could they not? In all truth, I am the strange one. My mother, the kind loving soul who hit people with frying pans. My brother, the nerd who loved

books more than freedom. Goten, myself, the strange one.

I admit, I have done some things in my life that do not constitute my family. Scaling the side of skyscraper being one. Braking into people houses being another. But I didn’t steal anything, I only rearranged the furniture.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if they had actually liked it better that way. . .

Mother had heard about the ‘great’ school and had signed me up.

"The curriculum will be hard. Maybe that will get you to study more. For one thing, it will keep you out of trouble."

Yeah right.

The only other good part about the lame ass school, is that Trunks shares in my boredom. Bulma had taken mom’s advice and had enrolled him. It they thought that would solve the problem, they forgot one thing, the only reason

we got in trouble in the first place was because we were together.

Solve it, right. Like enrolling us in some lame school is going to beat us into being their little puppets. Some children that they can shape to there will. Mom had been lucky with Gohan, but she would get no such satisfaction out of me. I am my own man.

So here I am, at school. Again. The sky is blue. The grass is green. What more description do you need?

Trig; snoozer. History; tu forte? French; Bonjour un sucer. Who cares.

Theater Arts. Now there’s a class. You could literally fall asleep and maintain that perfect A. The teacher didn’t care, so long as you participate when needed. That is why the class is last period. All the snoozers, like

me, would join just to goof off for the last period of the day before we goofed off at home, or wherever our fancy leads us.

The best part is that Trunks is in my class. We are the clowns you see, we upset the class, speak ‘shocking’ and always get away with it. Who didn’t love us. Plus, out teacher was about the only female on campus. And we are

the hottest guys. Get my connection?

It wasn’t like that really, but she did have some interesting thoughts in her head.

That’s for damn sure.

Today is like all other days. She talks we pretend to listen. And then she hits us, with the killer, the ultimate ki blast, the mother of all shockers.

"We," she meant this class, "are putting on a play. It will be Romeo and Juliet."

"Alright!" Some one yelled. "Your gonna bring in some babes for us to kiss!"

"Wrong. This is an all male school and so this will be an all male production."

"What?!"

I couldn’t have heard her right. She wanted us, a bunch of teenage boys, to perform in the most romantic, tear jerking, dramatic love story of all time, and she wasn’t going to grant us the knowledge of a female role? No! This

was not happening. Men do not kiss men. Men only kiss girls. Is she demented or something?

Why ask, she is.

The classes response ranges like my own.

"Why that one?"

"The school insists on Shakespeare."

"But why that one? Why not Hamlet?"

"They are not going to accept violence in the school. So no wars."

"But Ms. Keene, that is just sick!"

"I don’t want to hear another word. I have already decided. And knowing you, I have already selected the roles. They are posted in the back you can read them on the way out."

With that, the bell rings. I have no intention of checking that list. I do not what to be a part of this play. As far as I am concerned, I would prefer being a stagehand, or even a light person. There was no way they were going

to get me on stage, and in tights no less.

Several boys leer at me on their way out the door. Their expressions ones of amusement and humor. What crawled up their butts?

Trunks enters my line of sight, and I glance over to him. He is relaxed, waiting for the crowd to diminish before he attempts to read his part. He is calm and laid back. I don’t know whether that is because he is confident he

knows what part he is getting, or if it is just the way he feels today.

Only a few scragglier are left behind, and Trunks and I move forward. The list is long, given the size of the class and the number of parts. Near the bottom, I find Trunks’ name. Romeo. No surprise. Then I find my name.

"JULIET??????? You have got to be kidding me!!!!!! I am not going to play some girl! There is now way, you can’t make me!!!"

"Goten, calm down." Ms. Keene says. I pant furiously. How dare she cast ME as the girl. The one that has to kiss. . . . Gulp.

I’m going to to have to kiss Trunks.

The room suddenly starts spinning.

"Goten!" Trunks calls as he grabs my arm, attempting to steady me. I’m going to have to kiss him. . . .

"Goten, It’s not that bad. Your best friends right? Your friendship should be able to pull you through this. Come on, this is nothing."

Nothing she says. I am going to have to kiss my best friend. Several times. On stage. In front of everyone!

Hell no everything is not okay.

How do they expect me to take this? They are going to put me in a dress, stick me on stage and demand that I kiss Trunks. The world is ending. It must be. Since when did the schools come up with such perverted ideas. Making two boys kiss in public like that. What do they expect, a Grammy?

Hello no. Even Steven Spielberg wouldn’t go this far.

My life is hell.

Have I already said that? No? Well then here, I will say it again, my life is hell.

I look at Trunks’s unemotional face. One of his many features that he had inherited from his father. He revealed nothing. Even his eyes showed nothing but a dank emptiness. His reaction was a mystery. Well, he is on the

receiving end. He has to be feeling something. At least he doesn’t have to wear a dress.

"I suggest you boys sleep on it. You will be more comfortable with it in the morning."

Bloody hell, no.

The next day, I feel worse.

"And how is Juliet feeling today? Getting ready for that big smacker?"

"You say one more word to me, punk, and you wont have a smacker, or a life force for that matter."

"Oh, my sweet little kissy pooh." He obviously had heard the recent conversation. "Why not share a kiss? I’m sure ol’ Mr. Hefty would love to let you do a little number on his science desk."

This time, I do hit him. But not hard. Well, not by Saiyan standards.

He doesn’t speak again for a few more weeks.

Theater class is even harder. Ms. Keene hands out our scripts. "Now, I want you to be fully dedicated to these parts." She says. "I know it will be difficult for you, but the play is not that hard. You will get it. Trust me."

Trust her. Ya right, she cast me as the girl.

"Goten, I know this will be exceptionally hard for you, but just know that it is all acting. It is fake. And you have no way out of it."

Kissing noises come from behind me. Satisfaction would be to throw a large ki blast at them and see them wallow in their misery. The bastards.

"Rehearsals will start on Monday. Have a nice weekend."

Bitch. Nice weekend in deed. What weekend do I have to look forward to? Life is hell, this is my hell.

There is no way I am telling my family. Then they would want to come to the play and I’ll be damned if I let them see me in a dress. I was better off saying nothing. If I am lucky, they won’t say anything.

The weekends are always too short, and the week too long. But this time, it feels like it will never end, and for once, I am not happy about that.

Trunks decides to show up early Saturday morning. He’s dressed to spar, and I don’t need to ask. We know.

Mom on the other hand, does not.

"Oh, Trunks. It’s nice to see you. What will you be needing today?"

"I came over to spar with Goten."

"Is that all everyone ever does. Spar? You know, I am getting very tired of hearing that. All you men ever want to do is spar. Can’t you think of any better way to pass your time, like studying."

"I’m sorry Chichi, but we can’t help it. It’s in our blood."

"Oh, just get out of here, the both of you. And you better not come home all bloody again."

"Yes mom."

After living with a Saiyan, and two half Saiyans in her house for so many years, is she still yet to realize that it is our nature to fight. There is nothing we can do about it. It is an impulse.

We land in a clearing, deep inside the forest. We don’t come often to this particular spot, but is has been used several times. All one needs to tell that is to look around. The clearing is wider then it should be, trees that

were pulled up and tossed aside. A memory comes to me, one where Trunks had used a tree as a baseball bat, and my head as the ball.

Sure we could get vicious, but it was all in good fun. Nothing more.

Trunks lands in the center of the clearing, and removes his CC jacket. The coat is mindlessly tossed aside, and Trunks crouches into a fighting stance. I follow his example, and the battle is on.

We fight for hours, neither getting the best of the other. We are equally matched. Trunks lands a blow in my cheek, I feel the skin tear slightly, but I shake it off. He is rewarded with a jab in the stomach. You know, basic,

fun fighting. Nothing too bad.

Afterward, we are bruised and bloodied. So much for mom. I lay on my back and stare up at the trees. The day is slowly fading into night. The blue sky turns red and orange. The stars begin to sparkle.

"What are we going to do?" Trunks asks.

"I don’t know. Prissy Ms. Keene decided we would be perfect for the roles, and it looks like she has her fat heart stuck on it."

"It’s going to be so weird."

"Tell me about it."

"Promise me one thing."

"Ya?"

"It won’t. . . It won’t damage our friendship. You know, we’ll be cool with it."

"No prob."

On Monday, there was a problem.

"We will not be learning the play straight through, we will be learning it sections at a time, and I have already mapped out the schedule. Since we have four weeks to do this play, we will be practicing for an hour every day

after school. That will give us over an hour and a half every day. Now, there are five scenes in Romeo and Juliet. For your benefit, I shall label them. First, there is the party. And yes, this is the kissing scene. We will

be doing this scene the last week before production. Second, the balcony scene. Now I have checked, and it never mentions them kissing, so you get out of it. Unless you annoy me and I change that. Third, the battle and the

honeymoon. No comments there. Fourth, the fake death, and Five, the dramatic end. This week, we will start with the death and end. They are the shortest scenes and I want to get you in the mood. Then the balcony scene, the battle and then, yes, the kissing scene. We will meet on Saturday before opening night for a dress rehearsal. The play will run for a week. Got that cleared up? Good, now I’m tired of talking, start."

God, that woman could talk. She spent most of class period belting out that little monologue.

I am not thrilled about this at all. How the Hell am I suppose to act like a woman? I don’t want to! If things had turned out to my liking, I would be one of the lucky few who were placed in charge of the set. They didn’t have to memorize lines, they didn’t have to wear a dress, they didn’t have to kiss their best friend.

My life is hell.

For a week, I get to play dead. For a week, I get to memorize stupid lines for a role I don’t want. Not to mention that this friggin’ Juliet has about a million lines in these scenes. God, who cares. Do we really need to listen

to this chick talk to herself? Give me a break!

Unfortunately, life did one of its twists. They say that times goes by when you’re having fun. Ya right. Whoever said that needs to be drug into a dark alley and shot. I was most definitely not having fun, but time flew by. It

was like time had decided to get the easy stuff over with, and bring on the parts I could live without.

All too soon, it is week four.

The dreaded week.

The poisoned week.

Monday, was cool, we spent most of our time setting up the props on the stage. No prob. Tuesday, we memorized lines. Wednesday, walk through. Thursday, day off to get fitted. Oh, the agony, I look like a girl in that dress. They even bought a wig! Sure the wig was nice, it looked real, but it was going to be on me! And I was going to be in a dress! With makeup! My life is hell.

Friday, the last day. Tomorrow will be the dress rehearsal, and then, the play. Can I just curl up and die right now?

Today, she decides to act through the scene. Straight through, she says, no breaks.

The kissing is at the end of the scene.

I do well in spite of myself. Maybe acting is my thing, but then, that doesn’t mean I have to like the role.

Trunks is good. He maintains his unemotional façade, untouched by events. Some times, I wish I had that ability. To remain so cool, so calm, so calculated. To not have anything effect me, to be indifferent. You have to

admire that about Trunks. He could look like an emotionless bastard on the outside, but you just know that inside, he is screaming.

"Alright, here we go. The last section. Boys, and Goten, get prepared for the kissing scene."

She really is sick.

I stand in my spot, waiting. I do not want to do this. With everyone around, everyone watching. I do not want to kiss him in front of them. Not in private. . .

Whoa, Hello! Where did that thought come from? God, this stress is getting to me. I just implied kissing my best friend in private. What is wrong with me? Okay, shake it off, here we go.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand,

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." Trunks acted.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,

And palm to palm I holy palmers’ kiss."

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.

They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake."

"Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take."

Trunks move in closer. His lips right above mine, close.

I laugh. The mood is broken, I know, but I laugh. The boys with the sets had stopped to watch, the extras in the seats, they all laugh. I can not help myself. My face turns red. I bend over, holding my stomach. I laugh.

"ENOUGH!" Ms. Keene bellows. The laughing dies down. "I will not put up with this. You have one day, one day to get this right, and if you laugh again," she points to me, "You will get a drop F."

Talk about initiative, my mom would flip if I failed the class. I had to talk her into it in the first place, now I might lose my freedom of choice, forever. I can not fail the class.

I look over to Trunks, as always, a mask of indifference. He had not laughed.

The theater empties, soon only Trunks and I are left.

"I don’t want to fail." I say.

"I know, I don’t either." He looks at me, "We are going to have to get this right."

"What should we do?"

He sighs, "Practice, I guess."

Practice? He wants to practice kissing me? You have got to be kidding me! Wait, what about that thought I had had earlier, in private. What did that mean? Do I want to kiss him? Do I want him to kiss me? I furrow my eyebrows, thinking.

"Goten."

"Ya?"

"Let’s get out of here. It’s depressing."

I shrug.

We fly above the town. I follow Trunks. When we land we are at the edge of a cliff. The desert is spread out before us, we are alone. Trunks walks to the edge of the cliff and sits, dangling his feet over the edge. I follow.

We sit, silent. Nothing, but the sound of the air, the day.

"We are going to have to do this."

"I know." I say.

Neither of us move, and time stands still. I don’t want to make the first

move.

Trunks looks at me with his emotionless eyes. His jaw is set. He looks into my eyes, and I wander. I have never realized how very blue his eyes are. Dull, yes, emotionless, yes, but strikingly blue. Blue like the sky, when

the rain has cleared and the sun pours through. Blue like a waterfall, that cascades over a cliff and into the murky river. Blue.

How could I not have noticed? His eyes were always there. As far back as my memories go, he was there. I eyes, his hair, his lips.

His lips.

He moves closer, and I am silent. My breath is in my throat, and I wait. His lips touch mine, so slightly. Feather soft, hesitant. I close my eyes.

He kisses me. His lips pressed to mine, almost forcefully. His hand at my neck, pulling me closer.

My blood is rushing. My head is soaring. Electricity is shooting through my veins. I grab his shirt, my knuckles white.

The kiss goes on. His hand on my back, on my neck. His lips on mine.

His mouth opens, his tongue rubs my lips, pleading.

I open.

His tongue enters my mouth, hot and dominating. I melt. Our tongues dance, rubbing, tasting, demanding. So good.

Trunks.

Trunks!

My eyes shoot open and I pull back. I am breathing hard, and so is he. He looks at me, questioning.

His eyes, God, his eyes. The emotionless veil had been lifted, and in his eyes, I see everything. At the forefront, love.

I feel faint. He loves me? When did that happen?!?

"Trunks?"

"Goten. . . I, I wanted to tell you. I did. I know that you are not that way, but please, listen. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I never dated because no girl ever compared to you. You are everything to me. Please, I know you don’t feel the same, but remember, you did kiss me back."

"We. . . we were practicing. . ."

He looks at me. I feel small. What am I to say? He is holding his heart out

in his hands and I, the blubbering idiot, can not think of what to say!

"Trunks. . ."

"This got weird didn’t it?"

I look up, "Huh?"

"We promised it wouldn’t get weird, it did. I’m sorry." His eyes were emotionless again. Trunks stands up, gives me one last look, and flies off. I can not make a sound.

I sit for long hours. Thinking. About the play, our promise, and Trunks. It had felt so good to kiss him. I could melt into a puddle of eternal bliss. I have never felt this way before. I have kissed girls, many. But this was

new. This was like a romance novel. You never think I could possibly be as good as they describe, but this, it is. In so many ways, if not better.

I can still taste him in my mouth. Still feel the aftermath of his kiss. If I try, I can feel his tongue touching mine. Savoring me.

When did I get these feeling? Just days ago, hell just hours ago, I refused to kiss him. I protested, loudly, but now, all I want is his lips on mine.

Romeo. Trunks.

The play. I open my eyes. I will show him tomorrow at rehearsal. A smile spreads across my face. Life is good.

I get there early. The early bird gets the worm, well the early Goten gets his man.

Trunks is late. Fifteen minutes, he is late.

I have already been stuffed and prodded into my dress and wig. Thankfully no makeup today. Where is that boy? If I must suffer through wearing a dress, the least he can do is show up to kiss me.

Half an hour.

"Where is Trunks?" Ms. Keene asks redundantly. Right, like I hadn’t noticed.

"He better get his scrawny ass here soon. . ."

Scrawny? No way Ms. Bitch, his ass is not scrawny.

Where is he?

The back doors fly open, and Trunks enters. Fashionably late.

I nearly faint. He is wearing form fitting black pants, a tight black tank,

and his favorite CC jacket. He looks hot, as usual.

"Well, Romeo finally decides to show up. An excuse maybe?"

Trunks flashes her a grin. "Nope."

His eyes scan the stage, they go right over me. A frown is on his beautiful face.

"Well lets get started." Ms. Keene says. Trunks disappears into the back to get dressed.

Rehearsal starts. It goes smoothly. No mistakes.

Then I enter. Trunks looks at me. Does a double take, and his eyes widen. I guess he didn’t recognize me.

I say my lines.

He speaks, like in a trance. His eyes never leave me. Everyone thinks he is

acting. Pretending to be love struck. But I see his eyes. He is.

He loves me.

I lean forward, and he kisses me. Line, kiss, line kiss. Three kisses. Each

as soul shattering as the last.

The boys chuckle off stage. The play continues.

I die and he holds me in his arms, sorrow in his voice. He cries over me and

for a moment, I fancy the truth. Would he cry over me, if I really died?

Yes.

The play ends, my head is on his chest, in death. He can not fake death, his breathing is fast and obvious.

The curtain closes and I stand up. Trunks follows. I look at his eyes and for a moment, I see a flash. Pain?

"Trunks. . ."

The curtain opens and the rest of the boys climb onto the stage.

"Good, that was actually good. Do it like that next week, and you will all get A’s. Dismissed."

I glance at Trunks before I head into the changing room. It feels good to get out of this ridiculous dress.

Trunks is waiting at the door when I exit. He turns, silent, and walks. I follow. We walk across the city, the long way to his house.

"Trunks."

He turns.

"I need to talk to you. About yesterday."

He flinches and turns away from me.

"I. . . I know I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, really. I didn’t know. I had no

clue. But now. . . now I can see it. I know you love me and. . . I love you

too."

"As a friend right?"

"No."

He turns back to me, his face full of hope.

"I love you Trunks. It took your kiss for me to figure it out. But I do love you, as a boyfriend, a lover, a husband. Whatever you want."

Trunks stairs at me. His breaths are slightly labored, and his lips are parted. I see doubt cross his eyes. I grab his hand and take off for a more secluded area. We end up in the park. Trees surround us. I pull him into my

arms, and kiss him with all my might.

His hands wrap around me and he takes over. His tongue delves into my mouth like it had before. The kiss is deep and intimate. The kiss of lovers. Two star-crossed lovers.

I smirk, maybe the play wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

*****

Now, on opening night, I am dead nervous.

I feel like vomiting. My dress feels too tight, my head is dizzy, I am miserable. Trunks comes up behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders.

"Breath, just breath. Everything will be okay. Calm down."

I take his advice and breath. It does help. Trunks wouldn’t lie to me, everything will be okay.

"Hey guys!" Some kid says. "Everyone is here! The play is packed! Hey, Goten, I can even see your family."

WHAT!!!!!!!

I hadn’t told them anything about the play. They couldn’t have known. I stick my head slightly out the curtain and look into the audience. Sure enough, there they are. Mom, Gohan, Videl, Pan, and little Goku, the newest

addition to the family, sitting next to Trunks’s family in the middle of the auditorium.

I start to hyperventilate. I can’t breath. My family is here. They will see me in a dress, as a girl, on stage. Kissing Trunks. Okay, so I had planned to tell them some time, but not so soon! Even Vegita was out there!

"Whoa, Goten, are you okay?" Trunks says.

"Do, I look, okay?" I gasp.

"Well, no. You look like you are hyperventilating. What’s wrong?"

"My family is here!"

"You didn’t want them here?"

"NO!"

Trunks’s face turns red. "Um, well, I, um, well, that is. . ."

"What?"

"I kinda told them."

"YOU WHAT???"

"Shhhhhh." Numerous people call, finger to mouth.

"You invited my family to see me in a dress???"

"It wasn’t like that! The subject kinda came up one time and I mentioned that you had a lead role. They said they wanted to come."

"Did you tell them what the play was?"

"Well, no, I-"

I almost faint. My head swoons and I am on my way to the floor. Trunks catches me, of course, but how could he? He told my family to come, but didn’t mention I was playing the girl?

"Goten! Goten! Come on, come on, wake up. Your okay, everything is okay. Wake up."

I groan. "I’m gonna kill you Trunks." I slur.

"Okay, okay, you can kill me later, but right now you have to wake up. They

play is about to start."

I groan. I don’t want to do this anymore. My life is hell.

I sit in a chair, my head between my knees, trying to compose myself. I didn’t go on until the end of Act 1, but that was the important scene. The scene where I kiss Trunks.

I by time I get myself composed, it is time to go on. I pull my head up, and enter the stage.

I murmur goes up among the crowed. I hear some people commenting on what a pretty girl Juliet is. I hear my family gasp. I hear Vegita laughing.

I hear myself dying.

I deliver my lines perfectly, the way I am suppose to. Get your mind off the crowd and do your job, I tell myself. Easier said then done.

Trunks enters, wearing his tights and tunic. His legs are shown off perfectly and for a moment I feel jealous that all of these people get to see him like this, and not just me.

I hear Vegita laugh again.

The moment has come. The kiss. I can almost hear my mother holding her breath. She knows what is suppose to happen.

We kiss. Once, twice, three times. The kissing scene is over. We lived.

After that, I lost myself in the play. The words envelop me and I can see nothing but Trunks, and me, and the stage. Nothing else matters.

We lay dead at the end, the curtain falls.

Cheers rise up from the audience and I pull myself up off Trunks’ chest. We line up for our bows, and the curtain rises. Everyone is on their feet, cheering. Even my family, Trunks’ family, and Vegita. It was exhilarating,

to be up in front of so many people. To be cheered and loved for the performance. The experience is deafening. I feel alive and excited. All to soon, it is over.

I remove my costume quickly, making sure to get every dab of makeup off.

I exit the auditorium, and mine and Trunks’ family are waiting for us on the corner. Trunks is leaning against the wall, waiting. I give everyone a nervous smile.

"Goten, you did great." Gohan says.

"Ya, uncle Goten, you did real good as a girl, he he he."

"Pan, stop that." Gohan said to his young daughter.

A smirk is on Vegita’s face. But he remains silent.

I feel incredibly nervous. "I hadn’t meant for you to come."

"Why not honey?" Mom says.

"Um, well, I, didn’t really want you to see that."

"Oh, it’s okay honey, you were only acting."

That’s what she thinks. I meant every word.

Talk about your acquired situation. What are you suppose to say when your family has seen you perform as the opposite gender? Have a nice day? See you later? Austa Lavista?

I can not wait to get out of here.

*****

By the end of the week, I finally felt better. With each performance, I felt more comfortable, and the pre-performance jitters disappear by closing night. The crowd response became even more exhilarating. It quickens my heart and swells my head. I did good, and they were open to show it. I didn’t mind so much that they though me a girl, but their response, wow. I feel alive with their praise. It would almost be as good to get the praise

from Trunks.

Or perhaps better.

As it is, the play is over. No more after school practices. No more stolen kisses in front of an audience, no more Ms. Keene getting kinky ideas.

I am going to miss it.

I roll onto my side, a Saturday morning. The sun creeps in through my window, pertaining to the wondrous day. I pull my arm up over my head, not wanting to wake up. My bed is warm, comforting. I can spend the day there.

My door bangs, loud enough to make the wood split and take my ears with it. I roll onto my stomach, not wanting to acknowledge it.

"Goten!" Mom calls. I put my pillow on my head.

"Goten! Get up, it’s a beautiful day, don’t spend it in bed!"

"Goten! Trunks is here to see you."

That got me. I leap out of bed and race to my dresser. Cloths fly, I search for clothes, good clothes, sexy clothes, anything! The banging has stopped. I hear a click behind me, the door opens.

"Mom, I’m-" I blush. It’s Trunks.

His eyes examine me, take me in. I am only wearing boxers. He licks his lips; my blush deepens. He shuts the door behind him, and walks toward me. His eyes flash.

He wraps his arms around me, muscular, strong. His lips reach mine and our eyes close.

I breathe him in. Musk and life. Our tongues touch, a mating dance of their own.

My door bangs again. We pull away from each other quickly, and face the door.

"Goten, get outside. The day is too beautiful to waste." Mom again. Do you think she suspects? Does she know?

Most definitely not, she would faint.

I turn back to my dresser. I still need clothes. I open the drawer and search through the neatly folded stacks. Trunks reaches around me and pulls out his own selection.

He presses himself against my back.

"Wear this." He whispers in my ear. Tingling. His hand is on my bare chest, his mouth at my ear. My pulse quickens, my breath harder.

His tongue is at my ear, kissing, caressing. I shudder and lean my head back. His tongue traces my ear, his mouth nibbles the lobe. My eyes are closed.

He pulls away. My eyes shoot open and I look at him.

"Get dressed."

I get dressed, I hop into my clothes as fast as possible, Trunks stands there, watching. A blush is on my cheeks.

I pull my shoes on and Trunks opens the door.

We fly. We fly out into the forest away from everything. Are we going to spar?

We land in the woods, not our typical fighting grounds. There is no clearing, just trees. Trees all around us, towering above us.

Trunks leaps. He catches me off guard and knocks me over. Only he falls with me. My eyes widen. He is on top of me, pinning me down. His legs are straddling my hips, his hands on my chest.

His eyes are clear, full of love. They burn with intense emotion.

He kisses me. Urgent, needy.

His warmth surrounds me, hot and pulsing. His hands move on me, tracing and touching. I moan into his mouth. He un-tucks my shirt from my pants and slips his hands inside, against my skin.

"Maybe you shouldn’t have dressed at all." His voice is thick and hot. Passionate.

He pulls my shirt up and off. His mouth is on me again, on my chin, my neck, my chest. I loose myself in his touch.

My hands are on his neck, encouraging. His mouth kisses me, his tongue leaves wet trails against my skin. His mouth covers my nipple and I scream out with pleasure, jutting my hips. He smirks, nips, hardening and

caressing. He moves to the other. My pleasure is intense, consuming.

His mouth moves lower, tracing my stomach, circling my navel. I shudder.

His hands are at my hips, at my waistband. My pants are opened and removed, my boxers follow.

I am left naked, and loving it. I am breathing hard, and so is he.

He licks me, I moan. His tongue surrounds me, lapping and consuming. My hands dig into his hair, my hips jerk. He takes me into his mouth and sucks. I cry out and thrust my hips.

His hands go to my hips, holding me down, his pulls back and his tongue is on me, creative and hot. The fire inside of me is building and it consumes me, growing, engulfing. I reef against the ground, consumed by the intensity of the presser growing in my groin. The fire grows, scorching my soul and spreading.

I lose myself.

I spill my seed into his mouth. I cry out.

He swallows as much of my seed as he can, then licks my skin.

I start to descend from my high, my sexual ecstasy. I look into his eyes. Love.

I pull myself up onto my elbows.

"Your still dressed." I smirk.

I pull him into me, kissing him. I can taste myself in his mouth. My hands travel along his back, and down to his tight ass. I squeeze. I break the kiss and move along his skin, his neck, his ear. I undo the top button of his shirt and my mouth moves to the revealed skin. Down, down.

He is on his back, breathing hard. His shirt is open and I pull it off. I kiss him once again. His hips press against mine and I feel his throbbing need. Time to take care of that.

I slip my hand inside his pants and caress his ass.

He moans, his eyes close and he tilts his head back. I open his pants and shove them down his hips. He wiggles, moving his pants lower down his legs. His manhood is pressed against his boxers, aching.

I press my lips against his stomach, just above the waistband, teasing. He groans, clutching my hair, encouraging me to continue. I play with the waistband, just to torture him, before I remove the remainder of his clothes.

He is laying naked before me, glowing in his sweat and need. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Perfect in every way.

I lower my mouth to his hardness, taking him deep into my throat. Trunks shakes under me, jerking his hips.

I suck for a few minutes before pulling away. He groans at the loss and looks up to me.

I smile softly and lower my mouth to his. We kiss deeply, lovingly.

"Goten, I-"

I cut him off by straddling his hips. His breath catches in his throat and

he looks up to me.

Words are lost, and he enters me. His length fills me, hurting for a moment, but then I am lost in my pleasure, my completion of being joined by my love. We move together, lost in our rhythm. Lost in our pants, cries, and growing exhilaration.

I feel myself building again, climbing the age-old ladder of ecstasy, the fire building inside of me, growing and spreading once more.

With a final thrust of his hips, I am sent over the edge, I cry out. Trunks looses it at the same time, he pushes deep inside of me and empties his seed, he screams.

We collapse, a jumbled heap of limbs, in the aftermath of our love. I feel whole.

*****

At school we are forced to act indifferent, separate, from each other. It is nearly too hard. To act like friends, and nothing more. To be distant and lost in my schoolwork. How am I to survive without screaming to the world

that Trunks belongs to me. Without threatening everyone who gets to close?

I can feel his presence in the school, and it nearly undoes me. To have my love so close and not be able to be near him. To listen to lame ass teachers lecture about history. I can’t wait until school ends, and then maybe Trunks

and I can go out, alone.

Lunch is the only reprieve I can get. We sit in a corner, separate from everyone.

"So what should we do about dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know how my dad is going to react to this. At least your mom is predictable, Chichi will probably faint, but my dad, I don’t know. We are either going to be excepted or beaten."

"I don’t know what to tell you Trunks. He never mentioned his beliefs before."

"Ya, I guess we will just have to tell them, and see. But we can tell your family first."

"Mine? Why not tell your family first, they would probably take it better."

"Well, I want to see your mom’s reaction."

"You already know what will happen. What about your dad?"

"That can wait. Now your family, they are the ones that get emotional about stuff."

"Well your family are cold, ruthless bastards."

"We are also royal."

"Royal pain in the asses."

"You know you like it."

"You know you want it."

"You suck."

"Well, you swallow."

That got him. A blush set on his cheeks. He stands up and grabs my arm, pulling me from my seat. I stumble to get my footing.

He drags me out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. As I am pulled down

the hall, the warning bell rings and students begin to rush to class. But still, Trunks continues.

"Trunks, the bell, we are going to miss class."

No answer, save for a small grunt. We reach the end of the hall and the tardy bell rings. So much for classes.

Trunks pulls a door open and shoves me inside. It’s a janitor’s closet. It is almost large, but narrow. Surely bigger than what they are rumored to be.

He pulls the door closed behind him and locks it from the inside.

"Don’t say things like that unless it is an invite."

With that, he leaps at me, grabbing me around the waist and capturing my lips. His hands are busy at my clothes.

"Trunks. . . school. . ."

"Like I care."

With that, off come our clothes. My back is pressed against the wall and Trunks’ tongue is all over me, tasting, touching. My protests die away, I submit. His mouth covers my throbbing need and I stifle my moans.

His hands roam my skin; I melt. My hands reach his shoulders, pulling. He moves from me, making me gasp at the loss. I look into his eyes.

"We don’t have the time."

He kisses me, and lowers us to the floor. The coldness is against my back. His hand presses my thigh, pulling it up, I move my legs up and around him. Silent, he thrusts into me. I bite my lip.

He moves, faster and faster. I grit my teeth to keep from crying out. The moment is getting closer. I pull his head in for a kiss, we reach our climax. His scream is lost in my mouth.

"Trunks." I pant. Slowly, my head begins to clear.

The doorknob shifts. My head snaps up. A curse is heard through the door and footsteps, walking away. Trunks and I exchange a glance.

We jump to our feet and scramble to our discarded clothes. We pull them on frantically. Trunks finishes first, I hop to the door, pulling my shoe on.

Trunks peaks out the door, then pushes it open. I run past him and down the hall. He locks the door, from the inside, before he follows me.

Minutes later, the janitor arrives with a set of keys.

We decide to tell our families as soon as possible. Basically, that means in as many days as we can dare keep a secret from them.

We settle on Friday, the end of the week and a whole weekend to get use to it.

I can’t tell whether the day came too fast, or not fast enough. On one hand, I want to push the day away, dreading what would happen, people’s reactions. On the other hand, I want to get it over with so I can get back to being

with Trunks. I other words, I am miserable.

Trunks decides to go out on Thursday, just to get our minds off the inevitable. I knock on his door to pick him up, Vegita answers.

"What do you want, brat?"

"Trunks and I are going out."

Oops, bad choice of wording. Vegita doesn’t notice.

He scowls at me, and walks away from the door. I walk in behind him.

A few minutes later, Trunks comes down the stairs, beautiful as always.

We turn and head for the door.

"Trunks! Get over here brat!"

Trunks stops, grimacing, and turns to his father. Taking a deep breath, he walks over to Vegita. He is sitting in his favorite chair, apparently relaxed.

I follow Trunks to his father.

"Now brat, you should know better than to keep a secret from me. Don’t think you can fool me for one instant. But if you are going to do something like that, then don’t forget," he looks at us, "how to mark your mate."

I pale. He knows. How did he figure it out? How long has he known?

He turns away from us, closes his eyes, and begins his meditations. I turn to Trunks, the color is gone from his face and he is just as shocked as I am.

Wordlessly, we leave.

"How. . ."

"I don’t know. I didn’t think dad had figured it out."

"What did he mean, by ‘mark your mate’?"

"I don’t know."

Something in the back of my mind begins to bother me. Something I should now, should remember. But it is out of my reach.

Later that night, as I lay in Trunks’ arms in the moonlight, I remember.

"Gohan."

"What, is he coming?"

"No, I just remembered. After Gohan got married he came home with a mark on

his neck."

"What kind of mark?"

"A bite mark."

"Why would Videl bite him? I mean it is kinda kinky and all, but was is necessary?"

"Your dad mentioned marking your mate, Gohan came home with a bite on his neck. Do you think that could be what your dad meant?"

Trunks looks at me, searching my eyes. He tilts his head, reveling his neck.

I gulp and lower my head to the base of his neck and lick the offered skin.

I bite. My teeth delve into his skin, bringing blood. I shudder. Something inside of me fills, like it was filling the whole of my soul.

Trunks bites my neck as I lick at blood from his wound. We are now life mates.

Friday comes, as it usually does.

I bring my family to Trunks’ house. We decided to tell them together. They sit in their living room, chatting.

I take a deep breath, preparing for what is going to happen.

"Mom, I’m in love." I announce.

"Oh, honey, that’s nice, but is this the place to be telling me?"

"Yes," Trunks interrupts, "because he’s in love with me." He takes my hand, reassuringly.

The room is silent. Then the eruption.

"WHAT?!?!?!"

"But, what, Goten, this can’t be, you can’t be, no! I won’t allow this!" Mom says, she looks faint.

"On Vegitasei it was customary for members of the same genders to mate. And as you can see, it is too late." Vegita pulls Trunks’s collar away from his neck, reveling his bite.

Mom faints. Gohan catches her before she reaches the ground.

Overall, Everything has gone as planned.

Trunks and I leave the commotion of the house. We fly up to the roof and sit, gazing at the stars.

"Goten, I was thinking. By Saiyan tradition, we are life mates. But in human tradition, we are not excepted. But even so, I would like you to be my husband." He pulls two wedding rings out of his pocket and holds them out to

me.

I smile softly. "Trunks, I love you. Of course I will marry you."

"Then, by yonder blessed moon I vow, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-"

"O, swear not by the moon, the’ inconstant moon

That monthly changes in her circled orb.

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"What shall I swear by?"

"Do not swear at all

Or, it thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I’ll believe thee."

"If my heart’s dear love-"

"I love you."

Fin

#Goten #Trunks #Yaoi #Lost Fanfiction

0 notes