#chiccolo week submission

[slugmanslime]

Sunday (7/21): Summer Days (Oh, Summer Nights)

my submission for the first day of Chiccolo Week 2019! i know i’m late, but better late than never, right @chiccolofans? 

Prompt: Summer Lovin’

- - - 

ChiChi tugged the leather jacket further around her shoulders and sighed wistfully.

Daddy was going to have some choice words for her if she came home from school today wearing one of the Z-Bird’s jackets, but he didn’t have to know about it… right? Last night went so well, maybe he wouldn’t even mind? 

School had just begun again, but she would bet money that this year had a whole heap of trouble dedicated solely to yours truly. A stiff breeze blew across the bleachers, ruffling her ponytail and carrying the chatter of girl’s voices across the grooved steel. It seemed that her shovels were approaching. 

“ChiiiiiChi! Don’t go hidin’ from us, dollface! We know you’ve got the goods!” Bulma’s lilting sing-songing heralded her arrival, one arm slung around Eighteen’s shoulder as Videl shimmied alongside them, dancing to some unheard tune. (If she had to guess, it would be the bop that’s been so popular at the Shake N Grill the past few Friday nights.)

Eighteen slipped a lollipop from between her lips with a lewd pop, fixing ChiChi with a cherry red smirk. “We had a feelin’ you’d deliver.”

ChiChi smiled demurely, smoothing down her skewed poodle skirt as her friends joined around her, giggling and trading snipes about what it took to win such a prize. 

“Did he creep out to your bedroom window in the dead of night? Oh, ChiChi, how naughty of you to let him in.” Bulma purred, while Videl cut in, prodding at ChiChi’s leather-clad shoulder.

“As if! Her dad woulda caught them in a heartbeat-- ChiChi had to have snuck out to go fool around with him!” Her self-satisfaction at the notion was cut short when Eighteen snorted, rolling her eyes.

“You two give Cheech too much credit. She’s a goody-two-shoes; knowing her, she had to get Daddy’s permission for a date or something.” The Three Goons burst into a round of teasing laughter, but the sight of ChiChi’s guilty blush drew their attention back quickly.

“Oh no… it really was a date?” Eighteen scoffed, jamming the sucker into her cheek. “That’s so lame, girl, you’ve got to live a little!” 

Bulma elbowed closer, her eyes glowing with mischief. “Come on, Eighteen, like you’ve never imagined going on a date with Goku! Those muscles, that hair! Although, I prefer my men with a little more… attitude.” She and Videl fell into each other, having a good chuckle at Vegeta’s expense. 

“Goku? You- you think this is… Oh, I mean, yes, of course I went out with Goku!” ChiChi had let her mouth run in the heat of the moment, and now flinched under the scrutiny of her fellow Red Ladies. 

“ChiChiiiiiiii…” They drawled in unison, crowding around to study the jacket more thoroughly.

ChiChi stood abruptly, moving to the railing to escape their prying eyes and wandering fingers. “Sheesh, with you three! Alright, if I drop a name, can you cut me a little slack?”

Three eyebrows quirked at her, but there was no dissent. 

She fiddled with her inky ponytail for a moment longer, chewing her lip in a dreamy fashion before taking a deep breath and rushing out, “Goku asked me out, but Piccolo walked me home from school that day, to be nice, and he wanted to see a movie later so… so… so I told Goku I was sick and we would go next weekend!” She buried her crimson cheeks in her hands, embarrassment and excitement mingling in her smile. 

Two or three beats passed and suddenly she was swarmed with chattering blurs of red, tugging and squealing all around her.

“You’re such a catch, playing two fellas at once! I never knew you had the guts!”

“Oh, Goku is such a tool, he’ll never even know he’s got competition! You’re going to have to make it a little more obvious--”

“Did he take you to dinner, too-- did he meet your old man?”

“Is this Piccolo’s jacket then? Wow, it’s so big, no wonder! What movie did you see? Was it scary? Did he kiss you?! Did you let him get very far?”

“ChiChi this is so exciting, a love triangle! Omigosh, like, did he have a car?” 

With a bought of flustered laughter, ChiChi shooed them off of her, adjusting her bangs and the fall of the jacket across her shoulders. “It was just a movie, ladies… a romantic one at that. He picked me up in the Z-Bird wagon-- ‘Flying Nimbus’, can you believe that? Daddy shook his hand, told him my curfew, and Piccolo didn’t even frown! He was such a gentleman, he bought us the tickets but he let me buy the popcorn, because I’m a strong young lady with a job and money and-- Anyway…” She shifted again, leaning back against the railing with a smile curling her lips.

“Anyway… he gave me a kiss, on the cheek, here-” She touched the apple of her right cheek with the pads of her fingertips. “ -when he walked me to the door.”

Bulma and Videl were giving her goo-goo eyes at this point, while Eighteen didn’t attempt to hide her contempt for such trivial romance. Maybe if she asked now, she might be able to sell them on it. 

“So, do I… still have to go out with Goku this Friday night?” 

Three pairs of eyes met each other in astonishment before turning back to their blushing, withering subject.

“Uhm, YES!”

[chiccolofans]

SUMMER DAYS - Hot and Humid

Chichi awoke, sticky and unpleasantly warm. She curled her lip and peeled the sheets from her body before reaching for the clock and blinking at the time with bleary eyes. 

5:42 AM. 

It was far too warm to go back to sleep, even if she had time before anyone would be looking for breakfast. Might as well go get some ice water. 

Bare legs stuck to the fitted sheet with humidity. Piccolo was already up and about, judging by the empty space on the mattress beside her. It was not unusual; he hardly ever seemed to sleep. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slid to the floor. And screamed as her feet touched something decidedly fleshy. 

Piccolo pushed her away and yelled something in Namekian, his claws nicking her ankle. 

“What’re you doin’ on the floor?!”

Piccolo sat up, a spare sheet sliding down his bare chest. He blinked up at her, eyes red rimmed, and scowling. 

“I got hot.”

“So you’re on the floor?” 

Piccolo’s ears pinned as he yawned. 

Chichi got out of bed, making sure to not step on Piccolo this time. Even after escaping from the sweaty confines of the mattress, the humidity trapped moisture on her skin. “Get up, please. Get off my floor.”

“This patch is mine. I have laid claim to it in the name of The Great Demon King Piccolo.” 

She kicked him in the back of the head.

“It’s too hot - and early - to deal with you being a sarcastic bastard.”

Piccolo rubbed his skull and yawned again. 

“I came out of my egg a sarcastic bastard, and you knew that when you married me.”

She lobbed a pillow at him and stretched; he had a point. 

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Polar bear bacon and penguin eggs, preferably served in the arctic.” 

“Doesn’t your species like the heat and humidity?” Piccolo grunted and rolled onto his stomach, the sheet slipping further down his torso as it caught around his thighs and hips. “But not you, huh?” 

He pressed his face into his arms. She noticed  he was sweating too, the sheet clinging to his skin. 

“The air is too still in here.”

Chichi sighed and nudged him with her foot.

“Then go outside.” He grumbled something in namekian again, and did a perfect chest to deck push-up from the floor to his toes, then hopped up to his feet. Chichi stared at him. “The HELL are your PANTS?”

He stared right back and down, brows raised. 

“Don’t look at me like that. For the Kais’ sakes, I already had one nudist for a husband, I don’t need a second one. Goten runs around naked too much as it is.”

Piccolo rolled his eyes and zapped a pair of loose purple shorts onto his person. 

***

In the kitchen, Chichi fumbled around in the fridge for fresh fruit and cold juice. She swatted Piccolo rather half-heartedly away from the freezer door.

“Stop wasting the cold air.” He raised a lip but stepped back, an ice pack in his hand. 

She heard the back slide door open, Piccolo swear, and the door close with a swish and click-thud. 

“No better outside, huh?”

“It’s hotter and wetter than Vegeta’s armpit after four hours of training in 200G.”

She crinkled her nose as she handed him a glass of ice water with lemon. 

“Well I sure don’t wanna know just how you know that.” She returned to making breakfast, chopping fruit and arranging it on a platter. It was silly, she knew, as the kids would just snatch what they wanted without a care for the aesthetic, but it made her happy. 

“Why don’t we have one?”

She did not look up from the cutting board and platter. 

“One what?”  

“It makes wind.” 

She curled her nose , her father called passing gas “making wind.”

“Describe it…” Chichi said, her voice slow, eyes narrow as she looked up at him. Piccolo stood in the middle of the living room, staring up at the ceiling with a glazed expression, sweat beading on his skin. It took longer to slide down his face than a human or a saiyan’s sweat. Maybe he should take a shower or go soak in a tub of ice water. 

Piccolo made a twirling motion with his fingers. 

“It hangs from the ceiling, and it makes wind inside. Bulma has them in several rooms.” 

Chichi stared at him for a moment. 

“Do you mean a ceiling fan?”

Piccolo snapped his fingers and pointed at her. 

“We should obtain one. Per room.” 

Chichi stood up taller and wiped sticky sweat from her forehead. Piccolo had certainly made worse suggestions about the house before. A few ceiling fans would only make their lives more comfortable in the summer.

“We’ll talk about it, but,” she put the fruit back in the refrigerator to keep it fresh. “I think we need to get you in the shower under some cold water…” 

[pickleandthequeen]

My computer isn’t working so my Chiccolo Week submissions gon be late

[slugmanslime]

Monday (7/22): Fantasy Day

my submission for day two of Chiccolo Week 2019, still late but uploaded nonetheless lol @chiccolofans

Prompt: Heroes and Villains

- - -

When she opened her eyes, everything was dark. Her hearing was muffled, making her own breath sound too loud in the confines of the sack apparently draped over her head. Ugh, and it smelled too. It had to be the bag, no way her breath could smell like mothballs and foot sweat. Kind of like the trunk of a car where things that were used frequently but weren’t necessarily important wound up. 

ChiChi rolled her shoulders, shaking her head back and forth a few times in an effort to dislodge her smelly prison. A few coils of well-worn rope secured her to what felt like a chair; if she had the time, she could probably undo the knots just by memory. However, she wasn’t left wriggling for long; a few moments later the sack was removed and floodlights proceeded to effectively blind her. She hissed in annoyance, whipping her face away to save her adjusting eyes. 

“Daimao, if you’re going to insist on using the same bag every time, could you at least wash it?” ChiChi huffed, savoring air that smelled of sawdust and solder. 

A disappointed grunt pinpointed the location of her ‘host’, or rather, kidnapper. He ought to give her a frequent flyer’s discount at this point, really. 

“Feeling a little dazed, Miss Cox? A little disoriented, a little frightened perhaps?” Was he trying to make his voice sound deeper? ChiChi snorted, finally squinting up at him. 

Daimao was slumped low in his chair, fingers steepled and smirking mischievously. To his left, Icarus was standing tall, his scaly head perfectly suspended in a polished bowl tasked with piloting a very mechanical body. They had a giddy aura around them, like a cat that finally got the cream. 

“I think your chloro-mist is losing its potency-- I don’t even have a headache this time.” 

The villain grinned, fangs curling over his bottom lip. “Mockery won’t rile me up today, Miss Cox, for we finally have the upper hand on Super Saiyan!”

ChiChi wasn’t buying it, and Daimao was aware. Sure, this was his spiel nearly every time, but this time in particular he was right! 

“I’m not buying it.” She confirmed, shifting into a more relaxed position within her binds. “So, what is it this time? Another bank bomb? Maybe a robot army this time?” 

“Wh--” Daimao frowned viciously, lurching to his feet and planting his fists firmly on his hips. “No! Obviously not, I have a completely new and original idea!” Beside him Icarus nodded vigorously, ever supportive of his master. 

“... Is it a death ray or something?”

Daimao gasped, spinning to mash a few buttons on the panel behind him. “Of course not!”

Icarus had the sense to look meek, mouthing to her, ‘He saw it on the back of a cereal box!’

ChiChi snickered, much to her captors chagrin. “Daimao, you’re just so predictable!”

Now, of all the things she’d ever said in these meetings, that was the insult that cut the deepest. His fingers flew over the extensive array of knobs, buttons, and switches, growling, “Predictable! I’ll show you predictable!”

It was fun, this little game that they played together. She reported on Super Saiyan, Daimao kidnapped her, Super Saiyan came to her rescue and kicked his fanny, she went on to report about Daimao, rinse, repeat. But because the cycle was so repetitive, it left little room for surprises. You’d think after years of this schtick, the two super-powered knuckleheads could’ve come up with something new. 

Switch one. “Piranhas, oh noooo!” ChiChi moaned dispassionately as the floor around her seat peeled back to reveal a hungry swarm of man-eating fish. “Seen it!” 

“Try this then!” A series of drill guns swooped from the ceiling, whirring threateningly a few inches from her face. 

ChiChi yawned exaggeratedly; Daimao growled in agitation. 

A set of lasers, a punching wheel, and one snake later, Daimao stood panting over the panel. ChiChi was giving him an infuriatingly knowing smile, one that made his ears tingle and his fists clench. He pounded a yellow button to his left, and the weapons returned to their stations, the floor sealing with an automatic hiss. It only took a few measured steps to have him leaning over her menacingly, a hand on either arm of the chair for leverage. 

“Why can’t you just give me this? You’re really being a killjoy, the best part is about to start.”

“I’m a reporter, Daimao, it’s literally in the job description to tell the most objective truth.” ChiChi flicked her bangs out of her eyes, giving him a coy look from beneath her dark lashes. “Would you rather I lie to you?”

He fought the warmth rushing to his ears, hating the way it stained his skin purple, and frowned-- not pouted, frowned. Genius villains with huge egos didn’t pout! And they didn’t lose either, at least, not without a fight. 

“That depends; would you lie to me if I asked what you were doing this Saturday night?”

That threw her off her game for sure. ChiChi blinked, a hint of shock playing across her face. “I won’t have to lie if I’m doing nothing.” 

“And if you’re doing nothing, that means you’re free to get a drink with me then, am I correct?”

Surprise, in the shape of her lips and the glint in her eyes; that’s the ticket. A pretty rose color dusted her cheeks, which dimpled as she chuckled to cover any other wayward emotions. “You know, I guess I have to say, you really--” 

“You shouldn’t flirt with your captives, Daimao. It’s obvious that they can’t consent!” A booming voice filled the domed room, which now had a man-shaped hole in the roof. Super Saiyan floated a few feet below it, arms crossed over his chest while he beamed down at them. “Anyway, everyone knows that bad guys don’t get the girl!”

He leaves no room for a witty remark from his opponent before the two of them are making another hole in the side of the building, echoes of their fight still filling the air even as they tumble through the sky. 

Icarus sighed, giving ChiChi an understanding look as he slipped the knots loose in her binds. “How about a ride home? I owe you for the smelly bag.”

But ChiChi wasn’t really listening as she rose from the chair, rubbing at the marks the ropes had left in her skin. Her gaze was stuck on the exit wound torn into the side of the building. 

“Yeah… guess you’d be right about that, Daimao.” She smiled to herself as Icarus slipped the stinky sack over her head once more, to secure the privacy of their lair’s location. “Couldn’t have predicted that one.”

[chiccolofans]

Movie AU Day: Quest for Camelot

Chichi ran as fast as her feet could carry her, tripping over roots and rocks, hair catching on grabbing branches. Her breath burned in her chest, coming in ragged gasps.

Behind her, and gaining, were Dodoria and Zarbon. The mutated monsters charged after her, seemingly unhindered by the obstacles thrown at them by the forbidden forest.

She chanced a look back over her shoulder; the fog was too thick to see anything more than vague shadows. Chichi screeched as her foot caught some hidden tree root, he hands flung out in front of her - and caught nothing.

She was overwhelmed by the horrible feeling of weightlessness as she spun through the air.

She crash landed with a splash and came up spluttering, tangled in swamp weeds and Kami only knew what else.

“Gotcha now, Girl.” Chichi screamed, backpedalling through the sludge and water, Dodoria sloshing towards her, with Zarbon not far behind.

She slung muck at the monsters’ eyes, scrambling to her feet and trying to run, only to trip and land face first in the swamp.

A heavy weight pressed her head into the water, holding her down no matter how hard she thrashed and struggled. Her brain started to feel foggy.

She didn’t want to die here. Not like this.

The weight was removed, violently, and she burst to the surface, coughing and retching. A cloaked figure swept over her, past her, and, faster than her eye could follow, dispatched the two mutants.

Her - savior? Captor? - dragged her from the swamp and set her on her feet.

“The hell are you and what are you doing in the Forbidden Forest?”

His voice was gravel and metal, like a broken wagon wheel dragging over a country road. His cloak was pulled down too far over his face for her to see his face. Chichi tripped along behind the stranger through the trees and away from the swamp. Her clothes were soaked and sticking to her, weighing her down. “Have you any idea of the dangers under these trees?”

“Of course I know,” she panted, only staying on her feet because of his heavy grip on her arm. “But one of the Dragon Balls was stolen by Freeza’s men, and it was lost here in the Forest.”

The man holding her wrist froze.

“A Dragon Ball?”

“Yes!” She ripped her hand away from him. “Now just who are you? What are you doing here in the Forbidden Forest?” She glared at his back for a moment of tense silence, then relented. “I’m Chichi. My father served Kami for over twenty years.”

“Piccolo.” The cape fluttered as he started to leave. “Keep to the path and you’ll be out of here safely in two days.”

“Hey!” Chichi yelped and ran after him. “Hey! Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!”

[chiccolofans]

Day Two: Summer Fun! "Starry Nights"

By PickleandtheQueen

“Mind if I join you?”

Piccolo cracked one eye open, his vision taking a moment to focus on the shadowy figure of Chichi leaning over him.

He shrugged.

“If it pleases you.”

She laughed at that, and he flicked an ear. Chichi settled down beside him on the grass.

“Eeeohh, it’s wet!”

“It’s grass.”

“You didn’t tell me it was wet!”

“It rained earlier.” Chichi elbowed him in the ribs. “What? You know it rained, you were switching between rejoicing and complaining all afternoon.” He held up a hand, pointing at the sky and adopting a rather pathetic attempt at mimicking her voice. “Had to wait all damn summer for the rain t’come in an’ water these here cabbage fields but just think of all th’mud th’ boys’ll be draggin’ in here I’m fixing t’ forbid ‘em fr’m goan out there!”

Chichi elbowed him harder but laughed, leaning against him. He waited for her to tell him she didn’t sound like that, or point out all of the ways that the rain could cause them trouble. “Sorry.”

Piccolo felt his face flush as she leaned against his shoulder.

“T’be fair, the rain sure does make a mess.” He grunted in assent. She shifted closer to him, and he peered down at her. His eyesight was terrible after dark. She looked like a dark blob. He squinted, and her outline cleared ever so slightly. “But it is a good thing.”

He offered another agreeable grunt.

Chichi nudged him again. “I’m cold.”

“You’re always cold, which is shocking because you usually feel rather warm to to me.” All the same, he slipped his arm around her waist and tucked her under his cape.

“Such a gentleman.”

“You tease.”

Chichi hummed, her arm slipping out to point at the far-away stars.

“See that one? That cluster of stars right there?”

He squinted. All of the stars looked like little whitish pieces of fuzz stuck to a black sweater to him.

“No.”

“That one, those seven stars right there. If you connect ‘em all they look like a dragon. I wonder if that’s where Shenlong goes when the balls ain’t active.” Piccolo actually laughed at that. “Hey,” she nudged him again and looked up at him. “When your pretty girlfriend tells you a buncha stars looks like a dragon god, y’humor her, okay?”

For a moment, Piccolo remained silent, his eyes stuck on what he could make out of face. He turned his head back to the sky and stared at the wide expanse of the cosmos. “I can’t see that far.”

“What?”

“Not at night.” Or during the day, if he was being completely honest with himself. “My species comes from a planet with no night. Three suns, all cyclical. We don’t have a need for any sort of night vision.”

Chichi hummed, and he felt her eyes on him. “What?”

“So you’ve never… You’ve never been able to see the stars?”

He shook his head.

“They look like the lint on that frumpy sweater you wear to bed.” Chichi elbowed him again. “It is frumpy.”

“What about Gohan’s telescope?”

“No.” He could hear her lips pursing.

“I’ll go get it.” Chichi used him as a ladder to clamber to her feet. “It’ll make it worth it, then you’ll see the dragon.”

“It’s a bunch of foggy dots.” Chichi waved her hand in what he thought might be the forbidden finger as she disappeared into the dimly lit house.  Piccolo shrugged and shifted his weight on his bottom. His pants were definitely wet. He pursed his lips. Maybe it was a tad unpleasant. Of all the times to decide against hovering above the earth… Ah well.

“I’m back!” Chichi ambled across the yard, Gohan’s telescope clutched in her arms. Its legs threatened to tangle in her skirt but she kept her feet and stood in front of him.

“Need help?”

“Nope!” Chichi grunted. Piccolo stabilized the base of the telescope with his foot. “Just - about - got it! Got it,” she adjusted the eyepiece. “You’ll have t’kneel. Come, come. Take a look. Got it set right on my dragon.”

He really had no idea why it mattered so much. It wasn’t like knowing how the stars looked up close was going to change the fact that she was seeing things in the sky. Shenlong did not live in the stars. He pursed his lips. Where did Shenlong go when the balls were inert? Chichi’s hands gripped the sides of his face, directing his head towards the telescope, shoving his eye towards the eyepiece.

“Watch it!”

“Just look! You’ve missed out on how amazing the sky is!”

“Alright, alright!” Chichi’s hands remained on the sides of his face, holding him steady as he peered into the lens.

The night sky opened before him; for the first time, Piccolo was able to see the star the way they were meant to be seen, to see the colors of the night sky besides the inky blackness he had so long believed to all there was to it.

“Y’see the dragon?”

“I…” Piccolo hesitated, “I do not see a dragon. But I’ve never seen the stars the right way before. I might not know how to see pictures in them.”

Chichi laughed and he pulled away from the telescope.

“The view’s pretty good, huh?”

Piccolo shrugged.

“It’d be better in the daylight, so I could actually see it.”

She only shook her head and leaned over to press her lips to his cheek.

[chiccolofans]

JOURNEY

CHICCOLO AU

“Hurt. She is hurt”. Piccolo didn’t know why but that what’s all he could think of.He didn’t stay for her fight against Goku, he just couldn’t. He had heard of the kind heart of his rival, so, he was sure that when ChiChi will be able to confront him about his promise, the guy will offer to do the right thing: Marry her. And he couldn’t bear the thought.

Piccolo still remember the first time he saw her. She stood in front of him, arms crossed and a defiant expression on her face.

“I heard you are traveling to get in the Martial Arts Tournament”,

“What is it to you, woman?”

“I wanna go with you”

“Why would I let you do that?”

“It must be hard for you to get the things you need on the villages you visit , besides you don’t look like a very outgoing person. I’ll help you get all the things you need: food, water, shelter, anything. You won’t even have to talk to other people. In exchange, I will ask for your protection on the road until we get to the tournament”

He came closer to her, expecting to see the little woman get scared of his menacing eyes.

“Are you asking for protection  to a demon? Aren’t you afraid of me? I could kill you right now”.

She just looked him in the eye…and then started laughing.

“You insolent woman! How dare you…”

“Oh, It’s just that…”- said between laughs- “I’ve seen that act so many times!. You’ll get it when you meet my dad”

“I’ll kill you and eat your brain for dessert!”

“Hahahaha! You are a zombie now? I bet you don’t even eat meat!”.

And then she smiled and extended her hand to him. It was the first time a human have done something like that.

“I’m Chichi. Nice to meet you”.

Piccolo looked at her without knowing what to do. Was this girl nuts? He was the new king of demons, the future ruler of earth and…

“Oh, come on!” and before he knew it, she took his right hand in hers and started shaking it. “You shake people’s hands as a sign of an agreement and maybe even a new friendship”.

So, despite all his cursing, the green man was basically stuck with her. Now that he thought about it, letting her join him was the most important experience of his life. In the six months they traveled the road together, ChiChi have showed him what kindness, loyalty, friendship and caring what’s like. And Piccolo couldn’t help falling in love with her. He knew that now. So, when someone mentioned the poor girl who was deeply hurt at her fight against Son Goku, he almost lost it.

Piccolo was practically runnig to her room at the hospital, when he heard an unknown female voice coming from her room.

“I just don’t get it. I mean, you traveled all this way to fight Goku for the promise he made to you and when he asks you to marry him, you just say …No”.

“She said no? Why would she…?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Listen, I’m here on behalf of him. Goku has been my friend for so many years, I just want him to be ok. He wants to keep his promise and maybe if you could reconsider. things…”

“I can’t…”

“He is a good guy, a little bit dense, but very easy going and…”

“ I won’t marry him, Bulma”,

“But you basically came here to do that! I just don’t get…”

“I don’t love him!”

“Love is overreated, I mean, look at me and Yamcha”.

“You don’t underestand…”

“Try me”.

“I’m…in love with somebody else”. She took a deep breath, she couldn’t help the few tears that escaped her eyes and continue. “I met him on my way here. We traveled together for a few moths. He is cold, stubborn, with no social skills, looks like he hates everything and everyone…but, when you get to a chance to know him, to really know him, you realize that is just a facade because he was just lost and alone his whole life, and he is loyal, and caring, and…”

“Is he also green?”

Chichi lift hear head. Piccolo was there, standing by the door.

“I’ll let you guys talk. And don’t worry about Goku, I’ll talk to him” and before Bulma left the room, she mouthed “Good look” to her. And then…silence.

“Chichi…”

“Please, don’t say anything…”

“But…”

“Save me the embarrasment…”

“Let me…”

“I know you don’t feel…”

“DAMN IT, WOMAN, WILL YOU LET ME TALK?!”

And before she knew it, Piccolo sat on her bed, grabbed her chin and kissed her. It was a short kiss.

“I love you”.

He looked in her eyes, waiting for her reaction. He was going to say more things when she throw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. It felt amazing to finally have her like this.

“You are mine, now”. Piccolo said between kisses.

“I was gonna say that, Picco-chan”.

“Don’t call me that”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna make you scream my name…”

“Ahem”

The new couple turn their heads to see a nurse standing in the doorframe.

“Miss Gyumao, the doctor said since you don’t seem to have a severe medical condition, you could leave any time you want”.

“Thank you”.

“You are welcome” said the nurse and looking at them with curiosity, she added “Are you…?”

Taking Chichi’s hand and looking at her beautiful face and radiant smile, Piccolo said: “She is my queen”.

[chiccolofans]

She was a Saiyan, he was a Namek Warrior…

IN THE CAVE, they found each other

[chiccolofans]

Chiccolo Week Day 3: Species Swap Day! XBallZ Evolution

A/N: Sorry it’s a smidge late (especially since I’m a mod!) but here’s Species Swap – Inspired by XMen Evolution! To be possibly continued :) 

“Uncle, our mutations work in direct opposition to each other.” Piccolo rested heavily on his right palm, drawing circles in on the table with his left index finger. “Chichi’s supersonic super scream thing she does just doesn’t work with my hearing.” He glanced at Chichi, who was looking rather grim faced, staring at her gloved hands. A shadow fell across him, and Piccolo’s eyes darted up to the source. “Sure, the superhuman strength she’s got is useful as can be, but…”

“That, my boy, is why Bulma made you that helmet.” His uncle arched a brow, staring down at him. Piccolo’s frown deepened, and the teen intensified his imaginary doodling on the table.

“I don’t want to wear it, it’s stupid. My codename is ‘The Demon,’ and with that ridiculous get up on no one can see why.”

He could feel his uncle’s eyes on him.

“I do wish you would consider changing it, child. You’re on our team now, not your father’s. Such a moniker is not fitting of the Z Fighters.” Piccolo swiped his hand under his nose, refusing to meet his uncle’s gaze. “Chichi, my dear, what do you think about the teaming on this assignment?”

“I don’t love it,” Chichi muttered, and Piccolo’s long ears flicked. He tried to determine her tone. “Piccolo’s right, our powers aren’t exactly great together. Not to mention, we’re both new to the team. It would be better to have either of us paired with a more experienced member.” A pause, then, “with all due respect, Kami, sir.”

“Well, we all need to be able to work together, don’t we?”

Neither teen had an answer to that. The old mutant smiled.

  “Why do you keep your Brotherhood name?” Piloting the mini-jet was her job, and her surly partner was sitting in the copilot seat, watching radar and other charts. She supposed that it was probably a little too personal of a question, considering that Piccolo didn’t really share anything with anyone.

“I’m not creative enough to come up with a new one,” he grumbled, “Demon is easy. I like it. It matches my good looks.” He flashed a toothy grin at her, and she saw his fangs. She could certainly see where he had gotten the name, with his green skin, elfish ears, antennae… Chichi bit her lip and looked away. She still hadn’t found a codename that fit her. The others said that if your powers didn’t determine it, the first mission almost always did.

“Why haven’t you come up with one yet?”

“What am I supposed to do, call myself Banshee? I’d rather not.” Chichi smiled at him, and he offered an awkward grin back. A little alarm sounded on the dash, signalling it was time to land and begin the reconnaissance mission…

  Piccolo shook his head under his helmet. At least Bulma had made it purple. He’d yet to test it against Chichi’s supersonic wave scream; he was not exactly looking forward to it either. It wasn’t just the hearing. She could break bones with that thing. Supposedly, the motorcycle-looking helmet was specially designed to filter the wavelength from Chichi’s scream, and wouldn’t impact his superior hearing. Piccolo didn’t buy it, feeling muffled and exceptionally hard-of-hearing whilst wearing it.

“Hear anything?” Chichi asked, shuffling closer to him from their cover just outside the window Senator Satan’s office. He shushed her and tugged off the helmet, straining his ears.

“Why don’t you pull out those creepy goggles Bulma made to help with this sort of thing? You know, those x-ray ones.”

“Oh, right,” Piccolo suppressed an eye roll as Chichi fumbled around in her pack, pulling out the spy-goggles. However, he couldn’t hold back a second one when he saw the brightly colored Z emblazoned across them. Seriously? Bulma had tried to put one on his new helmet but he’d threatened mutiny if she followed through.

“You have to be a part of this team eventually!”

“I’d rather choke than wear something with the Old Man’s stupid team logo on it!”

Bulma screamed and threw the purple helmet at him, allowing him to remove the large Z stencil she had placed on it.

Even Chichi’s training suit had a big Z on the chest. It was ridiculous. “You’re not a fan, of the Z, right?”

“Not really my thing” Silence fell, and the two returned to listening and watching Senator Satan and his co-workers - or goons, Piccolo thought - go on and on about the Mutant Crisis. It was a warm day, and he was tired. There was nothing interesting to hear or see, and he felt himself drifting dangerously close to dozing off… At least when he was flying under his father’s colors, he’d never had to do something as boring as reconnaissance work. Of course… there were perfectly good reasons as to why he had left his father’s team. Many perfectly good reasons.

  Chichi, too, was feeling the effects of the warm weather, but not as much as Piccolo. She frowned, watching as he nodded off and on. How unprofessional! Reaching out her foot, she nudged her green companion in the shin. He jumped, and glared her before adjusting his position. His eyes closed once more.

“Just let me meditate.”

“You’re not meditating, you’re napping. We have a job to do!”

“Shut up. All they’re doing is talking about their ridiculous registration act. Nothing new.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, knowing he wouldn’t see it. Or at least, she thought he wouldn’t see it. He raised a lip in a silent snarl. She suddenly remembered that he was a telepath. And a telekinetic. It all made her feel woefully inadequate. Professor Kami seemed to believe that her powers were still developing, in their infancy, he’d said, gently touching her forehead. Chichi pursed her lips, staring through Piccolo rather than at him. Unlike Piccolo, and several of the kids on the team, Chichi had no physical manifestation of her mutations. She had been normal until the one day when she had become so angry, so afraid, she had snapped and screamed until she ran out of breath…and had looked around to see shattered glass and destruction. Two days later, she had left home to live at the Lookout.

  “Hey! You kids!” Chichi was jolted out of her reverie, and didn’t look to see if Piccolo had woken up. What did M.R.D. stand for? Six heavily suited agents stood before them, holding up clear shields with the acronym emblazoned across them.

“Pi - I, I mean -”

She chanced a glance at him, and for the first time since she’d known him, she saw real fear in his eyes. His hands shot out, and her attention was grabbed by the sounds of bodies smacking together. “Pi - Demon!” Codenames during missions. Codenames during missions. “You can’t hur -” She yelped, sending out a wave of energy on accident as she narrowly avoided being shot by the agents. She covered her face as she hit the dirt, more beams flying overhead. She screamed again as rubble hit her in the face, peppering her arms and back. And then… it was silent. Chichi opened her eyes, and wished she hadn’t when she saw Piccolo’s face; it was contorted in an ugly, feral snarl, his helmet failing to cover his jaw and lips. She thought she had seen why he was called The Demon. Now she did.

“Die,” he snarled, raising his hands, lifting the agents. Chichi’s eyes widened.

“No! You can’t!”

She saw his eyes flick to her face behind the eye shield before his icy eyes returned to the security agents with the strange shields.

“They’re gonna kill us if we don’t do something. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not kick it today.” He moved to throw them, crush them, or something but Chichi scrambled to her feet and clutched at his shoulder pads. “Get off.”

“No! I’m not gonna let you kill them! - Oof!” Piccolo shoved her to the ground. “Demon!” He wasn’t listening, he was going to - Wait, she had superhuman strength. She could knock him out if she wanted to! And she was not about to let him kill a bunch of people. It went against everything Kami taught them.

People were yelling, she was pretty sure a helicopter was on its way. This couldn’t be what the public saw about mutants. It couldn’t! Her fist connected with Piccolo’s jaw with an audible crack, making his helmet turn sideways as he stumbled. His would-be victims landed in a pile, dazed but alive as she hauled him up by the feet, her face twisted in a snarl.

“We. Do not. Kill.” Piccolo stared up at her through the crooked helmet, an odd expression on his face. It abruptly shifted as he wrapped his arms around her, and she felt them both lift off the ground as backup security arrived on the scene.

  Piccolo offered to pilot on their way back to the Lookout. She let him, taking the copilot seat in silence, programming in their destination. Chichi glowered at the screen, still fuming that he had seriously been about to kill those people. How irresponsible! Didn’t he know that they represented the entire race of mutants? A single publicized act of violence could put their cause at risk! At least she’d given him a nasty bruise on the face to remind him of the message.

Maybe he heard her thoughts. Or maybe he was just feeling guilty.

“What you did back there. That was pretty gutsy.”

“Yeah.”

He stared straight ahead, blue bruise blooming on his green face.

“Thanks, Tiger. Or Tigress, I guess.”

“Excuse me?”

Piccolo turned to meet her confused stare.

“I think it fits, don’t you?”

Chichi’s mouth fell open as she realized what he meant. Tigress…

  The next time they were paired up for a mission, her suit sported stripes.

[chiccolofans]

angst/hurt&comfort day

 a/n: mild descriptions of burns/injuries 

Piccolo winced as Chichi dressed a nasty burn on his bicep, shoulder, and chest. She said nothing, refusing to look at him, let alone speak to him. His jaw tensed, teeth clenching as she soaked and picked scraps of his gi out of the wound. He wanted to say something, to apologize for coming home the way he had, bloody, burned, and in agony, barely able to stand. After a failed attempt to explain that Dende had been too exhausted, too drained from healing the others, all more injured than he, the stoic warrior had fallen silent, allowing her to tend to his hurts without so much as a word shared between them.

Piccolo glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in the pinched face of his caregiver. Brows drawn, lips pursed in a thin line, Chichi stared intently at his wounds, doctoring each one with the precision of an emergency room nurse.

“You heal quickly, but you’ve already got blisters popping on this. See that? White an’ leathery. You should have had Dende fix ya up. D’ya have any idea how bad this is?” It was the first she’d spoken since he had turned up on the doorstep. “Pic’lo, look at this! You’ve got second an’ third degree burns all over ya. This ain’t something that oughtta be treated at home. I’ve half a mind to drive you to the A&E. If you were Gohan or Goten or Goku I would! Namekian alien or not!” Her voice rose in both pitch and volume as she carried on, cracking as she reached her loved ones’ names. “Why, I ought -” Chichi broke down, throwing the medical supplies away from her across the table as she scurried away. “I can’t - you’ll haveta go back to Dende. I can’t. Not anymore.”

Piccolo’s mouth fell open as she fled to her room, lips parting with a quiet pop as tension he had not fully realized he was holding was released. He remained, planted on the stool for a moment more before gingerly rising, cradling the half-dressed wound as he followed her.

“Chichi,” he began, but she cut him off by slamming the door. “Chichi!”

He didn’t have the energy to rip off his arm and regrow it, or else he would have done so already. If there had been a senzu bean, he would have eaten it. Had Goten, Trunks, and Tenshinhan not been so gravely wounded, he would have allowed Dende to heal him. Surely she understood that. But, he supposed, eye catching on a portrait of all of them, of Chichi, Gohan, Goten, and himself hung on the wall outside of her room, she wouldn’t see that. Not right away. She had seen Goten and the others come home dirty but apparently unscathed, tired but not visibly wounded. Except him.

Piccolo had insisted that the exhausted Dende rest himself. If he needed it, he would return the following morning for healing.

He had not thought of what that might do to his lover. “Chichi,” he tried again, good hand gently opening the door. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyes wide and glassy with tears, face puffy and blotched red. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. Y’just helped save the planet and everyone on it, includin’ ungrateful me.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Piccolo offered, slowly ambling over to her and perching on the edge of the bed, protecting his injured arm.

Chichi sniffled.  “I shouldn’t have come home like this, and expected you to take care of it.”

“It’s not that I mind,” Chichi interjected, turning to face him with fat tears pouring down her cheeks. “I like the doctorin’ and the fixin’, I really do, but, but,” she took a shuddering breath and pressed her forehead to his uninjured side. “But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t think I can.”

Piccolo felt his stomach clench.

Of course.

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of Chichi’s sniffles. Then, he asked, almost afraid to hear her answer, but forcing his voice to remain calm.

“Do you want me to stop fighting?”

Her eyes widened so much he feared for a moment they would pop out their sockets.

“I would never ask you t’do that,” she whispered, new tears shimmering in her beautiful chocolate eyes. “Never, Piccaboo.”

“You’re not asking.” His voice held firm.

“No,” Chichi shook her head, sniffling and wiping her face on her sleeve. “I’m not, but no, I don’t wantcha t’give up fightin’. It’s who you are. You’re a warrior. You’re all warriors. I can’t change that.” She paused to inhale, her entire body shaking. “I just, I can’t stand t’lose you, Piccolo.” His good arm slid around her shoulders, and he ignored the pain in his injury as he leaned over to kiss her.

“I’d figure out how to come back,” he promised, breath tickling her ear, “no grave could hold my body down. I’d come crawling back to you. No dragon nor god could prevent me from returning to you.”

Chichi didn’t laugh as he half hoped, but she did turn to face him with a smile on her face, tears still shimmering in her eyes.

“I s’pose that’s all I can ask for, lovin’ a warrior, huh?”

[chiccolofans]

Chiccolo Week 2017: Day 2 - Sci-Fi/Fantasy Day

A/N: TO BE CONTINUED because this ran away from me and I couldn’t get to the actual Chiccolo… Enjoy! 

Something big was going on. In her three years working at the lab, she had never seen so many guards, nor had so many people check her badge. For gods’ sakes, she had the highest level security clearance it was possible to have without being one of the suited agents who came to collect evidence for the government. Chichi shoved her badge in a security officer’s face before swiping it through the machine for access. The doors beeped twice before sliding open, and she stomped through, glowering around the room. More guards.

“Dr. Gyumao, please, we have much to discuss regarding the new subject.” Lead scientist Uranai Baba, an ancient women, grabbed her by the hand and immediately began dragging her to the briefing room. “It’s all very exciting. A first for sure. A very exciting opportunity.”

“What is?” Chichi ran along behind the surprisingly spritely elderly women, bent nearly double. What had been brought in? Some new space debris? It couldn’t possibly be -

“A live subject!” Dr. Baba grabbed her by the chin and shoved her face against the glass separating them from the exam area. Had she been able to, her jaw would have dropped open. There, on the table, strapped down and struggling, lay a wounded, but very much alive, green humanoid alien. “It crash landed in the Paozu Mountain Range this morning. Crews brought it in immediately for analysis. Fascinating, beautiful, isn’t it?”

Fascinating, yes, but beautiful? Chichi was unsure. It was difficult to judge the aesthetic of the creature as it gnashed fangs as long and thick as her thumb together, blue-violet spittle flying from its lips as it thrashed against the bonds holding it down. Bluish fluid that must have been blood spattered against the table as it smashed the back of its head into the cold metal of the exam table. Her brow furrowed, watching the alien injure itself further as it attempted to escape. Her stomach churned. What were they going to do with a living alien? Previous specimen had all been dead from the impact. Prior to this, the only live subject they had ever had access to had died within minutes of arriving to the lab, and it had been long before her time. She had seen the pictures of it, and it looked nothing like the beast before them.

“I’d like a closer look.” She was already donning a protective suit, securing the purifying mask over her mouth and nose. Dr. Gyumao Chichi swiped her identification card through the scanner, and the doors slid open before her, allowing her access to the alien.

He snarled at the approaching monster, yelling at it to back away. It hesitated, and he paused, narrowing his eyes. It was a mask. It was a mask covering the creature’s face. He could see through a small window in what must have been a suit, seeing wide, dark eyes framed by strange little whiskers. He bared his fangs, lip curling as he once again barked out a command to stay away from him. Each time he threatened his captors, the broken bones in his chest ached in agony, the open wounds burning. Behind its mask, the Earthling alien spoke a language he did not understand. It was soon joined by another, smaller, alien of the same species. The smaller one approached, a small cage-like mask held in its hands. His long ears pinned as it was forced over his face, covering his mouth. He thrashed, throwing his head as he struggled to free himself of the muzzle. He yelled again, demanding them to free him.

“It certainly…is interesting,” Chichi met its gaze for a moment, feeling herself trapped in a ruby gaze. The alien spoke, but it was not a language of Earth, as was to be expected, she supposed. “Dr. Baba, what…” she hesitated, watching the alien straining against the bonds holding it down. It was different from the alien corpses that she was used to examining, in more ways than just that it was alive and breathing; it had smooth green skin with a slight sheen, as if it were secreting some sort of fluid, long pointed ears, and antennae protruding from its forehead, despite an overall humanoid appearance.  It even had the tattered remains of clothing clinging to green skin. Then there was the matter of it trying to communicate. “What is it that we are supposed to do with him?” The assumed pronoun slipped out; the lab had a strict policy against any sort of humanization of alien remains…but this one was not exactly…remains.

Baba gave her a sharp look but said nothing. Chichi turned her gaze back to the alien, watching its face carefully.

“The same as we always do, but only this time our subject is alive…”

As much as she wanted to put her science goggles on, to be impartial, there was just…something that felt very wrong about this. Chichi took a blood sample from the alien’s arm, avoiding eye contact with him. To herself, she referred to him that way, but outloud she only called him “Subject 7P;” the seventh subject from the Paozu Mountain Range.

“I’m sorry about this,” she whispered, drawing back on the syringe, blue-black blood oozing up into the syringe. “They’ve never brought in a…living being before. It’s only ever been…carcasses. Scraps. Y’know?” Her stony faced subject glared at her, raising a lip to reveal those terrifying fangs again. His ruby gaze was disconcerting, sending ice down her spine. She had the distinct impression that he knew what she was saying. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I almost dropped out of the sciences when they wanted me to experiment on animals in school, and here. I don’t like it, 7P. I really don’t. I really, really don’t.”

7P gave her a decidedly dirty look, snorting and glancing towards the large windows leading into the main area of the lab. Baba was standing there with a group of people in suits. Chichi’s brow furrowed, but she returned to her work quickly, pretending there was no one watching her.

He was beginning to understand the Earthling’s language, recognizing words and tones. She - he had figured that much out based on the conversations she had with the Others - at least felt guilt for holding him prisoner, poking and prodding him with needles. Seh-van-pee. That was what she called him.

“Piccolo.”

“What?” The Earthling stared at him for a moment, and when he opened his mouth to repeat it, his name, she hurried away, the door sliding shut behind her. Piccolo let his head fall back on the table and stared at the ceiling.

To Be Continued!  

[chiccolofans]

Domestic Day prompt!

A/N: feat my OC Bansuri AKA Suri, and the lockewat’s oc Viola. Slightly majorly lacking on the Chiccolo. I suck. 

When the hell had they ended up with four children? Piccolo held the back of Goten’s shirt with the hand not cradling the two-months hatched Viola, and his shin to block Suri’s attack.

“Would you two cut it out? You’re brothers for all that is unholy! Act like it!” The ten and five year olds screamed and continued trying to kill each other over their father. “Goten. Goten. Goten!”

“SURI STARTED IT.”

“DID NOT.”

“DID TOO.”

“DID NOT!”

“DID TOO!”

“I don’t care who started it!” Piccolo roared, tucking the now-crying infant to his chest. “Neither one of you should be treating your brother this way.” He bounced Viola in his arms, attempting to calm the child before the tears and fussing became a fully fledged tantrum. “Go to your - no,” he remembered that they were currently sharing a room. “Goten, go to your room and do your homework. I know you have plenty of it. Suri,” the pudgy little namekian glowered up at him as Goten stormed off. Piccolo exhaled loudly through his nose. “Suri, you just. Just sit. Somewhere in this room.” The five year old gave him an incredibly dirty look before throwing himself down on the couch with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched, tears shining in amber eyes. Piccolo shifted Viola in his arms, the baby cooing and struggling in his arms. He sighed, and sat down next to his firstborn. He heard Chichi talking to Goten in the boys’ shared room. He closed his eyes. Being a real parent was hard.

Much, much harder than anything he’d ever done with Gohan. Including dying. He pursed his lips, trying to listen to Chichi and the words she was using with Goten. It was too muffled through walls and her soft tone certainly wasn’t helping. Well, he supposed that he just had to be a parent. It was his whole job right now, after all.

“Suri,” he began, adjusting his grip once more on the baby. Suri sank deeper into the couch, puffing his cheeks. “I don’t care who started it, and neither one of you is in trouble. But,” Piccolo swallowed, and Suri’s lower lip began to quiver in earnest. Piccolo plopped the baby in his son’s arms and pulled them both into his lap, holding Suri to his chest. “But, I can’t help but notice that my normally placid child is behaving quite uncharacteristically of late.”

Suri snuggled into his chest, cradling the baby.

“I really like Viola, Papa.”

Alright, not the answer he was expecting. Dimly, he was aware of Chichi standing a few feet away, and he hoped she would jump in. “I really, really like Viola, and I’m happy to be a big brother. But,” Suri sniffled, “I like being the baby, Papa.” He looked up at Piccolo with his face all screwed up in tears, “I don’t wanna not be the baby anymore.” Piccolo’s mouth fell open, fangs hanging out of his mouth. He glanced at Chichi, but she only gave him a slightly raised chin in their son’s direction. He was on his own.

“Suri,” he began, swallowing, “you, you will always be my baby. Even…even though we have Viola now…you’re still my baby. You’re always going to be our baby, no matter…“ he paused, swallowing, "no matter how old you are.” Partly because he could just tell that the child was never going to be any less of a giant crybaby at any point in his life.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He looked up as Suri snuggled into his chest, meeting Chichi’s eyes. She smiled, nodding as she crossed her arms. He was terrible at reading lips, but he was almost certain she mouthed, you did good at him. He felt a little bit better, a little bit proud.

After all, if the world’s best mother thought he did a good job, he had to have done pretty okay.

[chiccolofans]

He Who Brings Gifts part2 for Chiccolo Week Apocalypse Day

A/N: this is a continuation of a fic I wrote for the dbz fanfic exchange Halloween event; “He Who Brings Gifts.” 

LINK to part 1: http://pickleandthequeen.tumblr.com/post/152570051124/he-who-brings-gifts

The kid’s arm was looking much better. Piccolo hadn’t wanted to believe it at first; he’d been so sure that the kid would turn. It had been two weeks since he’d rescued them from the ghost town zombies, which made it a total of eight weeks since the kid claimed to have been bitten. He finally felt as if he could sleep without his semi-automatic in his hand. Gohan and Chichi were still asleep when he shuffled into the small living space outside of his bedroom. They were both curled up on his couch in front of his worthless television; he’d kept it just to see if power ever came back online. He’d dug out old blankets and given them to his unexpected and not entirely wanted houseguests. He supposed they were fine; Chichi had managed to find salvageable foodstuffs in the dried goods section on the abandoned supermarket, things he would never have thought to grab, considering he grew his own vegetables for his truck and what limited sustenance he required.  Piccolo sat at the small table he owned, perusing the map in front of him, using a marker to plot out a planned driving route, accounting for the vegetable-based diesel needed to make it to West City and potential delays. He heard Chichi stirring, and grunted a greeting. She had slowly began to let down her guard around him, as he had her and her son. She yawned, stretching her arms back over her head and scratching at her hair. His lips twitched in an involuntary grin at the utterly unkempt sight she made in the mornings. Hair a mess, eyes bleary.

“What’re you doin’?” she asked, yawning once more before setting about making tea over the small fire he kept burning.

“Planning our route,” Piccolo grunted, flicking the map and surveying his decisions. She ambled over to peer over his shoulder.

“Looks like you’re takin’ an awfully long route,” Chichi commented, voice doubtful. Piccolo’s ears flicked. “If you take Freeway 9, we’d be there in two days. Your roads take a week!”

Piccolo indicated 9 on the map.

“Last I saw before TV stopped making it out here, 9 was backed up and covered with abandoned cars. My truck can’t maneuver that. If we hit shit on the country roads, it’ll be easier to go around. What if we find wall to wall pileups on a bridge on 9?”

“Does your truck have a week of fuel?”

“If I bring an extra barrel, it’ll have twice that. And I absolutely am bringing extra fuel. We’ll only take what we need. As soon as your kid’s arm is all healed up, we’ll go. In the meantime, you need to learn t’shoot my guns, and drive my truck.”

He waited for her to argue, having grown to somewhat enjoy their verbal sparring, but none came. Instead, she placed a hand on his, and leaned over to press her lips to his temple.

“Thank you.”

Piccolo felt his face flush and he spluttered, standing abruptly and grumbling about needing to check on his truck.

@dbz-ff-exchange if you’re curious about a second part~ 

[chiccolofans]

Follow this link to the OFFICIAL 2019 Chiccolo Week prompts! We’re celebrating this nifty pairing in style this year, thanks to help from the Chiccolofans Discord members. We have some really awesome ideas this year, and we’re hoping y’all like them too!! 

Chiccolo Week 2019 Runs SUNDAY JULY 21 through SATURDAY JULY 27. 

Please submit your creations (art and fic welcomed!!!!) to @chiccolofans and/or post them to your own blog and #chiccolo week 2019 and @chiccolofans on or before the Theme Day (late submissions are accepted and welcomed, although we encourage participants to submit on time). *If you post to your personal blog, please refrain from posting early - if possible, use the schedule function! :D 

THE PROMPTS LISTED BELOW THE THEMES ARE JUST IDEAS, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO GO NUTS! 

Chiccolofans Mod Pickle will review and ensure appropriate tags are added to all submitted works; if you post on your own blog, please be sure to add any content warnings (if applicable) or follow in AO3 fashion with a “chose not to tag warnings/read at your risk” in the disclaimer/author note. 

If you have any questions, PLEASE ask @chiccolofans :) hope to see a lot of great pieces this summer. 

[chiccolofans]

Instead of (or in addition to) "Chiccolo Week" would a "month" be something anyone was interested in?

Instead of creating content for one prompt a day, there would be a weekly challenge.

Ex:

Week One - domestic: groceries, picking out new furnature, putting up a new backsplash in the kitchen etc

Week Two - sci-fi/fantasy: Pacific Rim AU, Star Wars AU, kidnapped by aliens, etc

Week Three - first times: first date, first kiss, etc

Week Four - romance: proposals, anniversary etc

Participants could create multiple submissions for one subject, or just one/week.

I know how difficult pounding out 7 prompt fills in a week is, especially with adult responsibilities!

Monthly challenges could also be arranged :) (one month of X type of prompt, at the end of the month, everyone parties idk we could work it out)

Anyway! Looking forward to feedback.

[chiccolofans]

Conclusion of Chiccolo Week 2017

Thank you to everyone who contributed to Chiccolo Week 2017! Everyone’s submissions were wonderful, thank you all for sharing. We couldn’t have done it without you. 

As always, Chiccolofans’ acceptance of fanart, fanfic, and other Chiccolo works is not limited to Chiccolo Week, so if you weren’t able to make it in for one reason or another, no worries! We’d love to see your stuff! And if you come up with something new and exciting, submit it or @ tag us in your creations. Thank you all again!