Yeah so I don't really want to write Oneshot after Oneshot and keep starting new stories so I've decided to put them all in one. This here is going to be a multi-chapter fic of mini oneshots evolving around the Briefs family (because I'm quite sure all my oneshots are going to center around them).
WARNING: Extreme cussing.
V/T(Vegeta and Trunks)
Enjoy ^_^
Bold Words.
"Dad, could you pass the fucking syrup, please?"
Both Bulma and Vegeta whipped their heads up to stare at their nine year old child across from the breakfast table. He smiled and waited patiently for his request to be granted, obviously overlooking their baffled expressions.
"What did you just say?" His blue haired mother asked, straining to keep a pleasant tone through her clenched teeth.
Trunks, with a slightly bewildered expression, repeated his line. "I said could you pass the fucking syrup, please?" Except this time he pronounced each syllable slowly which only added to his mother's fury.
Vegeta stared at his son with a bemused smile, one eyebrow raised, trying his hardest not to burst out in laughter.
"Now Trunks, you know that's a bad word to use."
The little boy glanced at his mother, now completely confused. "What is? Peas? Please? Could?"
"The one before peas."
"Fucking?"
Vegeta let a snort of laughter out but was quickly hit on the shoulder by his wife and he shut up. She gave her son a sweet smile and said, almost patronizingly, "Yes, that word. I think it'll be best if you refrain from using that."
"Well why?"
"Because it's very disrespectful."
Trunks furrowed his eyebrows, pondering over that. "Well, can I say shit?"
"No! That's not a good word either!"
"Damn?"
"That's not any better-"
"Bitch?"
"Trunks-!"
"Motherfucker?"
Vegeta looked up from his plate to dare a glance at his wife and covered his face to conceal his chuckles. She was bright red, cheeks puffed out with her eyes wide in what could only be anger, shock and disbelief. "Where did you learn these words!?" She demanded, angrily.
Trunks sank back and looked down at his food. He picked up his fork and started poking his eggs with it.
"Your mother asked you a question, boy." His father muttered, deciding it was his turn to jump into the conversation. His line hadn't been terribly parental but it would get Bulma off his back.
Their purple haired son bit his lip and kept his gaze down. His parents exchanged a look.
"Trunks, what's the matter? Who taught you those words?" His mother asked in a much softer tone.
Then, very slowly and reluctantly, the boy glanced up at them, pouted his lips and pointed. And, surprisingly (or not) enough, his finger was aimed at his spiky haired father. "I hear dad use them a lot....so...I don't know, I thought they were okay." He met his dad's piercing eyes with his pleading ones. He hadn't wanted to rat him out. It was just that pressure from his parents was the worst kind of pressure a nine year old child could have!
Bulma sighed and knew that her son's answer should have been obvious from the start. She got up from the table in a huff and made contact with her husband, sending him a death glare and mouthing the words, "You handle this since you started it." Before leaving out of the kitchen.
Vegeta watched her retreating back with anger. On come on, he thought, it wasn't as if she never said words like that either! Turning back to his sulking son, he grimaced. Well, what was he suppose to say?
Trunks avoided eye contact with him and continued to poke at his food. By the way he sat hunched with a tense set of his mouth; Vegeta knew the boy was afraid or at least embarrassed. Afraid at what punishment he'd get and embarrassed that his new found vocabulary hadn't been as cool and clever as he had once thought.
Not only that but he had totally let down everyone. His mother was mad, his father was probably annoyed and what had the words accomplished for him? Not a thing! They hadn't even felt cool coming off of his tongue.
So he sat in silence, awaiting the inevitable berate from his mean tempered father.
"So you like learning new words, huh?"
Trunks looked up cautiously and was quite surprised at his father's nonchalant expression while he poured more syrup on his pancakes. He forked some into his mouth and stared at the purple haired boy.
"What?" He asked around his food. "Did you forget how to use them already or are you preparing to ambush me with one sentence filled with all of them?"
"Uh..."
Vegeta rolled his eyes and swallowed. "You're amateur at best. Probably because you lack motivation. Just like your mother. If you want to become good at something, you have to practice."
Now Trunks was severely confused. He wasn't sure what exactly he needed to practice more; using the words or learning new ones? "Practice?"
"That's what I said." He narrowed his eyes. "You think you're grown enough to cuss, do you boy?"
"I just wanted to be like you!" He sputtered out nervously, deducing that "cussing" meant using his new words.
Vegeta sat back and folded his arms across his chest. He didn't feel like acknowledging the boy's outburst for fear that he might show a side of him he didn't want anyone to see; Dedication and a fondness for his son. Feeling proud that, no matter what he did, Trunks still insisted on following in his footsteps. "Well, to be like me you have to be an adult, correct?"
"Yes." He agreed meekly.
"Good. And I only cuss when I'm angry."
Trunks blinked. "But I heard you call Goten's dad an asshole-"
"Kakarot is an asshole." He hissed. "And you're bringing up irrelevant events. The point I'm trying to make is that adults use such words to express anger and so forth. As do I."
Trunks cocked his head to the side. "Okay..." It didn't make much sense. His father was always anger or so it seemed.
"So," Vegeta continued, growing irritated from his son's obvious confusion. "Inserting the words in regular phrases isn't necessary."
"Are you saying that I can only use the words when I'm angry?" He asked, squinting one eye.
He shrugged. It wasn't as if he cared what the kid said. As long as he trained, had good health and learned to sleep without a disgusting night light, what did it matter? Besides, the little half Saiyan never got angry so he said, "Sure. Do that."
"But I thought mom said they were disrespectful."
"It depends but if you use them correctly, they won't be." He then waved it off and was happy to get back to his breakfast that was rapidly turning cold while Trunks, feeling much better, ate his as well. Surprisingly, he understood what his father was trying to say.
When Bulma came down a few minutes later, father and son were still sitting in their same spots, finishing off the last bits of food that remained. She smiled at them, kissed her son on top of his head and wrapped her arms around her husband who grunted his disapproval.
"He looks happier now." She whispered in his ear, motioning towards their son who was making machine gun sounds. "Did you clear it up?"
Vegeta glanced up at her anticipating face and said distractedly, "Of course. All taken care of."
They turned to stare at their son as he hopped down off of his chair and began to reach for his empty plate to place it in the sink. As he moved to do so however, he hit his toe on the table and let out a 'Oof!" before grabbing the offended toe and screaming at the top of his lungs,
"FUCKING BITCH ASSHOLE SLUT ASS HOE BASTARD MOTHERFUCKER GODDAMN IT TO HELL SHITTY COCK PRICK CUNT!" As long as I don't direct the cussing towards anyone, it'll be okay. That's what dad meant.
There was silence while Vegeta and Bulma stared wide eyed and open mouthed at their son as he hopped around with a furious look on his baby face.
After the initial shock passed, Vegeta raised both eyebrows and let his son's random string of profanities sink in before turning to his enraged wife and saying, quite calmly,
"I'm quite impressed. I think that was thirteen or so in one sentence. He's definitely getting better."
Totally wrote just for humor, haha.
Let me know what you think. Review. And I suppsoe you can expect another chapter when another oneshot idea hits me but until then, see ya! ^_^