A/N: This may seem a lot like CyndiLovesPiccolo's style. What can I say?
She's a great author. I also feel the need to do a self-insertion just
because I'm going through a rough break-up and Piccolo has always been my
rock in tough times. The nameless guy in this story is true to the nature
of my ex-boyfriend. I am a second year in college in this story and
already have an apartment, which I live in all alone. I hope this doesn't
suck. _^
*Don't turn around... Don't let him see me...*
"TA?"
*Shit... Shit... Shit...*
A strong hand grasped my slender arm and tugged gently, urging me to turn around. I stood with my back to him, my hand trembling as I locked the door to my apartment.
*Safe...*
"TA..." He was getting annoyed; I knew it... Even though he always refers to me by my initials, his tone says it all.
I took a deep breath and turned to face him. My eyes squeezed shut involuntarily and I cursed my stupidity because the subtle move caused two tears to escape the sanctuary of my eyelashes.
*Busted...*
I opened my eyes slowly, taking in his furrowed brows and his penetrating stare. He knew who this was about. He knew perfectly well who was causing me this pain again.
"What did that fucker do this time?"
"Piccolo, he didn't mean it...."
"Don't give me that bullshit, what did he do?!"
I lowered my head and sighed; there was no easy way around it. "He left me at a party..."
I cowered slightly as I heard a familiar growl rise up out of his throat. "Why didn't you call me?"
"Because... I didn't want you to get angry with him..."
"TA, I don't know what goes through your head sometimes!"
"I know..."
"Aren't you mad at him? And what the fuck caused him to leave you so suddenly? I thought things were going well for once."
"I was mad... but now I'm just really... sad. He left because we had a disagreement about how long we should stay at the party..."
Piccolo raised a skeptical brow ridge at me.
"I don't really like to party as much as he does... I don't even drink that much anyway... and parties get really boring in this stupid cow town after the first five minutes, anyway."
Piccolo smirked at me and I knew he agreed.
"I tried to get Collins and KC to go with me but they were watching a movie. I figured it'd be no big deal to just go to the party with him for a while, even though I really didn't feel like going, and then go home on my own. I'm a big girl, aren't I?"
Again that green brow ridge perked up and I resisted the urge to giggle and punch the Namek in the arm, while, at the same time, I resisted the urge to cry my eyes out.
"So I told him I'd go but that I'd go home when I wanted to and he got all pissy at me! He said he wanted to stay all night long and that if I left any earlier, he'd feel obligated to leave with me and then be in a bad mood. I told him he shouldn't feel obligated to do anything for me and that I can take care of myself and that I sure as hell didn't want to waste my Friday night at some stupid party. He wouldn't talk to me after that... even when we got into the car to go to the party. Once we were there and he'd had a few drinks, he tried to get all mushy on me. I'm not a big fan of public displays of affection in the first place, but, most importantly, I felt like he didn't even care about how I felt. Like he thought he could just make me feel like crap and then come back and get me whenever HE was feeling better, regardless of how I felt at the time."
Piccolo took my hand and led me over to the large sofa in the middle of my living room. He sat down next to me and let me continue my story.
"When I told him he needs to have more concern for my feelings... he got mad again, but this time he left me behind. He just walked out the door without another word. I spent an hour looking for him, scared out of my freakin' mind, before I called his cell. That's when I found out he'd left me..."
The whites of Piccolo's fangs were showing and I was afraid to continue so I just sat there like a manikin.
"How did you get home, kid?"
"I called Tipsy Taxi... I'm not drunk though. Really."
The Namek smirked at me, "Good. Saves me the effort of having to kick your ass. I still owe you a good one for not breaking up with this son of a bitch sooner! You... have broken up with him... haven't you?" Piccolo's tone was serious and I felt my stomach do a flip-flop.
"Um... See, that's what's gunna get you a little upset. I... I don't want to call it off just yet. I wanna see if we can work things out."
True to his nature, the fire in Piccolo's eyes sprang to life and I backed away as slowly as I could. "T... A..." he said in a lethal tone, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I love him, Piccolo; please don't be mad at me!"
"What the fuck, TA?! This kid has no respect for you! It's almost 1AM and he hasn't even stopped by to see how you're doing AFTER HE LEFT YOU AT A PARTY! What is so difficult about leaving an asshole like that?!"
The large man stood up from my couch and stormed out of the front door. With a loud slam, Piccolo announced his departure.
"Piccolo has left the building..." I sighed into the warmth of my hands. I knew where he was going and I'd probably be getting a phone call from the two of them soon. I swear, he gets along with my best friend better than he does with me sometimes... Maybe I am a baka onna, as he likes to call me...
I stood up from the couch and dragged my feet to my bedroom. I pulled the door shut before I collapsed on my small day bed, inhaling his scent off of my frilly pink sheets.
*I hate pink... And I hate his scent...*
No, that wasn't Piccolo I was referring to... the scent assaulting my nostrils belonged to the boy that was causing me so much pain right now... but we'll get into that later. As for Piccolo, you're probably wondering how we got together.
I've been a fan-fiction writer for almost four years now and all of my stories revolve around the true love of my life. Piccolo. Of course, he doesn't feel the same way and it's been hell trying to convince him that I'm not some psycho stalker. I dunno how well my words work on him but he seems to pay attention whenever I say mean things like, "I didn't even think you were real!" or "A writer can remain totally detached from her writing! What makes you think I'd be in love with you?" I don't mean it, of course, but Piccolo would probably ignore me for the rest of my life if he knew how I really felt. Thank God there's one person I can talk to about my silent admiration. My best friend, Jay-chan. She's not only the one person who'll listen to my incessant jabber about the one man I wish I could be with, but she's also been quite the soldier in the face of Piccolo's heated interrogations; she's never let a secret of mine slip, even when he threatened to blast her house to rubble on a not so happy evening. They get along a lot better now though. Instead of going awol on me, Piccolo usually flies off to vent his frustrations to Jay-chan.
Anyway, their relationship can be explained later. How I met Piccolo... Okay, as I've said before, I've been a fan-fiction writer for almost four years now and, as I became more experienced in my private life, my stories took on a more adult, a more sexy, outlook on my ideal love for Piccolo. That's not a problem, right? I mean, thousands of other people draw erotic pictures or write sexy stories about the Namek; what's the harm if he's just a cartoon character?
As I was preparing for class the first quarter of my second year in college, I was startled by the sound of an angry fist pounding on my apartment door. Fearing for the worst, I grabbed my keys in my hand, holding them at the ready. I opened the door slowly, only to have it blow back in my face by the sheer force of the wind howling outside. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps on my carpet and my heart began to race.
"Are you TiffyAngel?" came an unfamiliar baritone voice.
*Oh God, it's a psycho fan!*
I scrambled to my feet, holding my key in a determined hand, and locked my gaze with...
"PICCOLO?!"
"So you are TiffyAngel," his obsidian eyes narrowed to mere slits. He threw hundreds of papers at my feet with a simple flick of his wrist. "Wanna explain all of this?"
I picked up one of the pages closest to me. In my state of nervous shock, I was only able to scan over the document, recognizing such words as "Deshee" and "Metshius" within the text.
*Oh God... Piccolo is a psycho fan!*
"Um..." My palms were sweaty. "Do you like them?"
Piccolo snorted, "I'm hardly a fan."
"Then what are you doing here? I mean, holy CRAP! How did you get here?! You don't exist! Oh my God, I'm going insane!"
I made a mad dash for my bedroom but was intercepted by Piccolo's masculine arm and he threw me, with all the strength of a real being, onto the floor. He glowered down at me.
"You have no idea how easy it is for documents to cross dimensions once they're left to the forces of the Internet, do you?"
The room began to spin.
"You... You're from another dimension?"
Piccolo frowned, "I should give you a fuckin' medal, huh?"
My forehead felt really warm.
"Wh-Why are you here? How did you get here?"
The Namek smirked in his arrogant way, "Simple teleportation. It's not that hard to cross dimensions, human. And I'm here because I want this smut to stop."
I felt myself growl, "It's not smut!"
Piccolo delivered a swift kick to my side and I flew into the kitchen counter. Now the room was really spinning.
"I want you to start another one of these fan-fics," he spat the word out with a vengeance, "and tell all of those other nymphos out there in cyber space to stop dirtying up my name. Maybe Goku and Vegeta are fine with all the attention but I'm sick of it!"
I struggled to get to my feet, "Why me? Why do I have to do it?"
"Simply because you were the luck of the draw..."
"Lucky me," I mumbled under my breath and then cowered for fear of further punishment.
"I want the first chapter of this Anti-Piccolo-Fans story up by the end of the day. Post it on fanfiction.net since they seem to get a lot of Internet traffic. I'll be back by sun down and if it's not up by then, you won't be a happy author."
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Okay, lemme get this straight! You're from another dimension and can dimension-hop with simple teleportation. I think I can stomach that. But how does the Internet cross dimensions? And since when are you so computer savvy? You never went to school, you're supposed to be stupid or something!"
His death glare shut me up after that one.
"To answer your first question, gaki, no one can control the Net. Who knows where all of the information in it goes? Well, in my dimension, humans also have access to an Internet. Somehow, the information from your dimension's Internet and the information from my dimension's Net merged. I can access information about anyone in your dimension that I want to. I found out about this Internet nonsense through Gohan. He found several sites from unknown locations in a random search he performed one day and stumbled upon a shrine dedicated to himself. He contacted me and together we searched this new niche in the Net. I found out that I also have a small handful of fans, most of whom seem to live in a place called the United States, and that's how I found you. After several searches, I noticed that your name came up a few times and decided to check you out. You seem to have SOME talent as an author, so I figure you can reach as many people as possible without making me sound stupid. Since I don't have as many fans as say, Gohan, it should be relatively easy for you to contact all of them and let them know that this nonsense had better stop."
*Easy?! What the heck is he thinking?!*
"Anyway, you better get to work on de-brainwashing those hopeless fools because you only have until sunset," and with that, he flew out of the open door, the burst of wind from his take off sending the papers on my floor into a frenzy.
I rested my head on the floor and fell asleep, completely exhausted. A few moments later, I awoke. My living room was a total wreck, pages scattered everywhere.
*What the hell?*
My head felt really heavy and I felt totally disoriented. An image of Piccolo flashed through my mind but I shrugged it off as a simple dream. I glanced at my watch and shrieked. I was twenty minutes late for class! I shook my head and decided against going in late; I'll just ditch. I reached for one of the papers on the floor and scanned its contents. It was a page from one of my older Piccolo fan-fictions, but what was it doing out here? I haven't worked on those stories in months... Again the image of Piccolo flashed through my mind. I groaned and dragged myself back to bed.
*I've been working too hard...*
*Don't turn around... Don't let him see me...*
"TA?"
*Shit... Shit... Shit...*
A strong hand grasped my slender arm and tugged gently, urging me to turn around. I stood with my back to him, my hand trembling as I locked the door to my apartment.
*Safe...*
"TA..." He was getting annoyed; I knew it... Even though he always refers to me by my initials, his tone says it all.
I took a deep breath and turned to face him. My eyes squeezed shut involuntarily and I cursed my stupidity because the subtle move caused two tears to escape the sanctuary of my eyelashes.
*Busted...*
I opened my eyes slowly, taking in his furrowed brows and his penetrating stare. He knew who this was about. He knew perfectly well who was causing me this pain again.
"What did that fucker do this time?"
"Piccolo, he didn't mean it...."
"Don't give me that bullshit, what did he do?!"
I lowered my head and sighed; there was no easy way around it. "He left me at a party..."
I cowered slightly as I heard a familiar growl rise up out of his throat. "Why didn't you call me?"
"Because... I didn't want you to get angry with him..."
"TA, I don't know what goes through your head sometimes!"
"I know..."
"Aren't you mad at him? And what the fuck caused him to leave you so suddenly? I thought things were going well for once."
"I was mad... but now I'm just really... sad. He left because we had a disagreement about how long we should stay at the party..."
Piccolo raised a skeptical brow ridge at me.
"I don't really like to party as much as he does... I don't even drink that much anyway... and parties get really boring in this stupid cow town after the first five minutes, anyway."
Piccolo smirked at me and I knew he agreed.
"I tried to get Collins and KC to go with me but they were watching a movie. I figured it'd be no big deal to just go to the party with him for a while, even though I really didn't feel like going, and then go home on my own. I'm a big girl, aren't I?"
Again that green brow ridge perked up and I resisted the urge to giggle and punch the Namek in the arm, while, at the same time, I resisted the urge to cry my eyes out.
"So I told him I'd go but that I'd go home when I wanted to and he got all pissy at me! He said he wanted to stay all night long and that if I left any earlier, he'd feel obligated to leave with me and then be in a bad mood. I told him he shouldn't feel obligated to do anything for me and that I can take care of myself and that I sure as hell didn't want to waste my Friday night at some stupid party. He wouldn't talk to me after that... even when we got into the car to go to the party. Once we were there and he'd had a few drinks, he tried to get all mushy on me. I'm not a big fan of public displays of affection in the first place, but, most importantly, I felt like he didn't even care about how I felt. Like he thought he could just make me feel like crap and then come back and get me whenever HE was feeling better, regardless of how I felt at the time."
Piccolo took my hand and led me over to the large sofa in the middle of my living room. He sat down next to me and let me continue my story.
"When I told him he needs to have more concern for my feelings... he got mad again, but this time he left me behind. He just walked out the door without another word. I spent an hour looking for him, scared out of my freakin' mind, before I called his cell. That's when I found out he'd left me..."
The whites of Piccolo's fangs were showing and I was afraid to continue so I just sat there like a manikin.
"How did you get home, kid?"
"I called Tipsy Taxi... I'm not drunk though. Really."
The Namek smirked at me, "Good. Saves me the effort of having to kick your ass. I still owe you a good one for not breaking up with this son of a bitch sooner! You... have broken up with him... haven't you?" Piccolo's tone was serious and I felt my stomach do a flip-flop.
"Um... See, that's what's gunna get you a little upset. I... I don't want to call it off just yet. I wanna see if we can work things out."
True to his nature, the fire in Piccolo's eyes sprang to life and I backed away as slowly as I could. "T... A..." he said in a lethal tone, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I love him, Piccolo; please don't be mad at me!"
"What the fuck, TA?! This kid has no respect for you! It's almost 1AM and he hasn't even stopped by to see how you're doing AFTER HE LEFT YOU AT A PARTY! What is so difficult about leaving an asshole like that?!"
The large man stood up from my couch and stormed out of the front door. With a loud slam, Piccolo announced his departure.
"Piccolo has left the building..." I sighed into the warmth of my hands. I knew where he was going and I'd probably be getting a phone call from the two of them soon. I swear, he gets along with my best friend better than he does with me sometimes... Maybe I am a baka onna, as he likes to call me...
I stood up from the couch and dragged my feet to my bedroom. I pulled the door shut before I collapsed on my small day bed, inhaling his scent off of my frilly pink sheets.
*I hate pink... And I hate his scent...*
No, that wasn't Piccolo I was referring to... the scent assaulting my nostrils belonged to the boy that was causing me so much pain right now... but we'll get into that later. As for Piccolo, you're probably wondering how we got together.
I've been a fan-fiction writer for almost four years now and all of my stories revolve around the true love of my life. Piccolo. Of course, he doesn't feel the same way and it's been hell trying to convince him that I'm not some psycho stalker. I dunno how well my words work on him but he seems to pay attention whenever I say mean things like, "I didn't even think you were real!" or "A writer can remain totally detached from her writing! What makes you think I'd be in love with you?" I don't mean it, of course, but Piccolo would probably ignore me for the rest of my life if he knew how I really felt. Thank God there's one person I can talk to about my silent admiration. My best friend, Jay-chan. She's not only the one person who'll listen to my incessant jabber about the one man I wish I could be with, but she's also been quite the soldier in the face of Piccolo's heated interrogations; she's never let a secret of mine slip, even when he threatened to blast her house to rubble on a not so happy evening. They get along a lot better now though. Instead of going awol on me, Piccolo usually flies off to vent his frustrations to Jay-chan.
Anyway, their relationship can be explained later. How I met Piccolo... Okay, as I've said before, I've been a fan-fiction writer for almost four years now and, as I became more experienced in my private life, my stories took on a more adult, a more sexy, outlook on my ideal love for Piccolo. That's not a problem, right? I mean, thousands of other people draw erotic pictures or write sexy stories about the Namek; what's the harm if he's just a cartoon character?
As I was preparing for class the first quarter of my second year in college, I was startled by the sound of an angry fist pounding on my apartment door. Fearing for the worst, I grabbed my keys in my hand, holding them at the ready. I opened the door slowly, only to have it blow back in my face by the sheer force of the wind howling outside. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps on my carpet and my heart began to race.
"Are you TiffyAngel?" came an unfamiliar baritone voice.
*Oh God, it's a psycho fan!*
I scrambled to my feet, holding my key in a determined hand, and locked my gaze with...
"PICCOLO?!"
"So you are TiffyAngel," his obsidian eyes narrowed to mere slits. He threw hundreds of papers at my feet with a simple flick of his wrist. "Wanna explain all of this?"
I picked up one of the pages closest to me. In my state of nervous shock, I was only able to scan over the document, recognizing such words as "Deshee" and "Metshius" within the text.
*Oh God... Piccolo is a psycho fan!*
"Um..." My palms were sweaty. "Do you like them?"
Piccolo snorted, "I'm hardly a fan."
"Then what are you doing here? I mean, holy CRAP! How did you get here?! You don't exist! Oh my God, I'm going insane!"
I made a mad dash for my bedroom but was intercepted by Piccolo's masculine arm and he threw me, with all the strength of a real being, onto the floor. He glowered down at me.
"You have no idea how easy it is for documents to cross dimensions once they're left to the forces of the Internet, do you?"
The room began to spin.
"You... You're from another dimension?"
Piccolo frowned, "I should give you a fuckin' medal, huh?"
My forehead felt really warm.
"Wh-Why are you here? How did you get here?"
The Namek smirked in his arrogant way, "Simple teleportation. It's not that hard to cross dimensions, human. And I'm here because I want this smut to stop."
I felt myself growl, "It's not smut!"
Piccolo delivered a swift kick to my side and I flew into the kitchen counter. Now the room was really spinning.
"I want you to start another one of these fan-fics," he spat the word out with a vengeance, "and tell all of those other nymphos out there in cyber space to stop dirtying up my name. Maybe Goku and Vegeta are fine with all the attention but I'm sick of it!"
I struggled to get to my feet, "Why me? Why do I have to do it?"
"Simply because you were the luck of the draw..."
"Lucky me," I mumbled under my breath and then cowered for fear of further punishment.
"I want the first chapter of this Anti-Piccolo-Fans story up by the end of the day. Post it on fanfiction.net since they seem to get a lot of Internet traffic. I'll be back by sun down and if it's not up by then, you won't be a happy author."
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Okay, lemme get this straight! You're from another dimension and can dimension-hop with simple teleportation. I think I can stomach that. But how does the Internet cross dimensions? And since when are you so computer savvy? You never went to school, you're supposed to be stupid or something!"
His death glare shut me up after that one.
"To answer your first question, gaki, no one can control the Net. Who knows where all of the information in it goes? Well, in my dimension, humans also have access to an Internet. Somehow, the information from your dimension's Internet and the information from my dimension's Net merged. I can access information about anyone in your dimension that I want to. I found out about this Internet nonsense through Gohan. He found several sites from unknown locations in a random search he performed one day and stumbled upon a shrine dedicated to himself. He contacted me and together we searched this new niche in the Net. I found out that I also have a small handful of fans, most of whom seem to live in a place called the United States, and that's how I found you. After several searches, I noticed that your name came up a few times and decided to check you out. You seem to have SOME talent as an author, so I figure you can reach as many people as possible without making me sound stupid. Since I don't have as many fans as say, Gohan, it should be relatively easy for you to contact all of them and let them know that this nonsense had better stop."
*Easy?! What the heck is he thinking?!*
"Anyway, you better get to work on de-brainwashing those hopeless fools because you only have until sunset," and with that, he flew out of the open door, the burst of wind from his take off sending the papers on my floor into a frenzy.
I rested my head on the floor and fell asleep, completely exhausted. A few moments later, I awoke. My living room was a total wreck, pages scattered everywhere.
*What the hell?*
My head felt really heavy and I felt totally disoriented. An image of Piccolo flashed through my mind but I shrugged it off as a simple dream. I glanced at my watch and shrieked. I was twenty minutes late for class! I shook my head and decided against going in late; I'll just ditch. I reached for one of the papers on the floor and scanned its contents. It was a page from one of my older Piccolo fan-fictions, but what was it doing out here? I haven't worked on those stories in months... Again the image of Piccolo flashed through my mind. I groaned and dragged myself back to bed.
*I've been working too hard...*