Okay, so this isn't necessarily a fic request (though I can offer one or two if you'd like), but more just an inquiry of how long you've been a writer. I'm absolutely floored with some of the ways you not only use your words, but highlight them and edit the format in such a way where they're emphasized more. I'm curious about what your influences and inspirations were, in the hopes that maybe I can find other ways to improve my own writing.
Wow, this was nice to return to when I hopped back on Tumblr. Thanks so much for the kind words of praise!
Without giving everything away, I’ve been writing for most of my life at this point; going on 25 years now (of course, not always not always Pokeshipping, and not even always fanfics).
I don’t really know if I have specific influences or inspirations? I’ve just... worked and practiced and developed my style over such and such amount of time? I would say the most influential sources for me out there were probably other fanfic writers from back in the day, coupled with my life experiences that led to me wishing to best articulate the emotions of characters to those who would read my stories. Oh, also shoujo/josei manga maybe? Because I feel the creators’ of series in such genres spend more time delving into character egos and motivations (which, like I said, is what I like to do).
Tbh, when you say things like “some of the ways you not only use your words, but highlight them and edit the format in such a way where they’re emphasized more”, I’m... not really sure what you mean? Or rather, I can’t think of any examples when I do anything so specific that it would particularly catch anybody’s eye.
Sorry I can’t be of anymore help... but I really appreciate that anybody would send me such a kind message. I keep taking time away from this blog ‘cause rl is such a mess. Now I’m smack dab in the middle of one of the states dealing with major covid-19 outbreak so everything’s on lockdown (except I work a job that is considered “essential” so I’m still going in 5-6 days a week).
ok no prob ^^ what about a 'we should kiss just to break the tension' kinda fic?
[Okay so when I received this I had a really fun little idea that didn’t perfectly match the quote - if it’s supposed to be a quote, I wasn’t sure - and I felt my inspiration… may trump my uncertainty about possibly not quite meeting anon’s expectations for this fic… Very sorry in advance!]
He’d thought things were finally back to normal.
Ash Ketchum was not what one would call particularly observant. He himself had admitted on at least one occasion already to not fully understand the female, or rather one specific female’s, mind… But he’d seen Misty bristle in irritation when Melody introduced herself on Shamuti Island’s beach and he’d inwardly blanched at the redhead’s aggravated and curt response when he’d asked her to join him in fulfilling his role as the so-called chosen one in the Shamuti Island legend.
Lugia had since returned to their deep sea home, the other legendary birds had retreated to their respective islands, all of the Pokemon that had journeyed to the supposed end of the world had begun to withdraw… Ash and friends, including his mom and Professor Oak, had spent one final night on Shamuti to nurse their thankfully small wounds and new emotional scars. A feast was thrown and everyone who’d had a part in securing the three elemental orbs that quelled their respective titans’ fury had retired to bed rather early.
And, by end of next day, Misty was back to glaring daggers and offering little more than argumentative commentary whenever they shared the same space.
Ash sighed, squinted up at the twinkling stars from his position at the rear deck of the ferry he and his friends were riding on to reach their next destination. Honestly he was too tired to be playing detective. There was a reason he’d opted to take a ferry instead of sailing to Pummelo on Lapras…
Speaking of tired, he yawned, standing to his full height and stretching. There was no point speculating on Misty and her weird moods. He did hope though that whatever she was going through would resolve itself before he completed the Orange League. Truth be told, it was nice to think of her cheering him on…
“–Ack!” The half-formed complaint formed in Misty’s throat as he turned and knocked straight into her.
“Mwah! Sorry! I… oh, Misty.”
“Geez, Ash, look where you’re going! And don’t sound like you wanna take back your apology just ‘cause it’s me you ran into!” she rebuffed briskly, turning her nose up at him.
“Uh, what’re ya doin’ here? It’s pretty late to be wandering around,” he replied almost sheepishly instead, choosing to ignore her attitude.
“I was going to the bathroom, not that it’s any of your business. I thought I’d take the outdoor route since the ocean at night is so nice to look at,” she told him almost absentmindedly, though he saw the twinkle in her eyes as she confessed her admiration. “But I could ask you the same thing. You can’t be this restless after everything we just went through, right?”
For half a second, he wondered to himself if that was concern he’d heard in her voice.
“Actually I was just going to bed, was thinking about some stuff but I’m done now.”
It was awkward. For all of his lack of knowledge and experience dealing with Misty Things™, even Ash could feel the air thicken with restrained hostility. Neither of them moved, not even to create enough space for the other to pass them by.
“Well, see ya in the morning then,” she told him in that same curt tone he’d practically gotten used to (again, for she’d all but ceased in using it since the first few months of their travels together… and honestly, what kind of friend acts that way for no reason), her gaze sharp as she stared him down.
“Hey wait!” he practically shouted, even going so far as to grab her hand and pull her softly back, forcing her to face him. Well, sorta. She refused to look him in the eye all of a sudden, and he swore her face looked a lot redder than what was normal.
“Wh - what?”
“Is something the matter? You’ve been treating me weird the past couple days.”
“Wh - huh?” she responded blankly, though the lack of ire lasted mere seconds before her brow knitted in irritation, lips pursing to keep herself from saying anything she’d regret too much as she tugged herself free from him and placed blunt and somewhat callused fists on her hips. “Why of course not, Mr. Pokemon Master. Don’t be silly! I’m treating you normal.”
No, you’re not, he thought automatically, somewhat frustrated but not enough to risk raising her temper by calling her out aloud.
No, I’m not, she internally relented but she shouldn’t have to point the obvious out to him and, really, she wasn’t emotionally prepared to be that open with him anyway. Maybe things would just have to be unfriendly between the two of them for awhile yet. They’d gotten through a rough patch before, right? They could do it again.
Because how could she tell him the reason she was so upset was due to another girl coming on to him? Kissing him on the cheek? Not to mention twice!
It hadn’t seemed to phase Ash quite as much the second time around but Misty, having only just found it in her to be honest about his importance to her, had not planned for Melody’s second attack just before their departure from Shamuti Island. The redhead had half a mind to ask if that had been more for her response than his but hadn’t gotten the opportunity.
But perhaps the most shocking part of it all was that Ash noticed anything was wrong to begin with. The only hope she had now was to keep from giving him anymore clues. About anythi--
--She was interrupted by a three or so second long soft and rather chapped pressure against her left cheek.
Wide-eyed, breath stifled somewhere between her lungs and throat, the redhead clamped both hands quickly over the victimized part of her face, doing her best to form an accusation.
“Wh - wha... what’re you doing, Mr. Pokemon Master? What was that?!” she whispered in an oddly high-pitched voice, face burning as bright as her hair looked, mind turning a little gooey despite her best attempts to stay vigilant.
“Uh... I guess it was a... kiss?” he replied, his face scrunching a little in distaste of the admission. He didn’t offer her anymore information off the bat, perhaps focusing more on his own reaction to such a choice. He’d never done that before after all, for anyone, and had never even been tempted in the past.
But while Misty had been thinking hard about Melody’s final transgression against her, kissing Ash on his cheek a second time before he and his friends left her home island, while she’d been resigning herself to her reigning temper and temporary fear that he’d somehow manage to put two and two together to figure out her feelings, he had returned to playing detective.
And the fact that he’d kept circling back to was that Misty had been angry again by the time their group left Shamuti. And she’d been angry within minutes of them first arriving on Shamuti. And somewhere towards the end of their latest perilous adventures in the archipelago region, she’d temporarily gotten over that feeling. So her anger didn’t seem to be tied to frustration over him getting caught up in something dangerous, nor did it have to do with her part in saving him from that something dangerous...
He’d acted instinctively, so swiftly after coming to his conclusion, that he too hadn’t had time to mentally prepare for its ramifications before kissing her chastely, intimately, on her cheek... just as Melody had done to him.
“But why did you kiss me, you dummy?” she practically squealed, eyes glinting though he couldn’t tell what emotion was clouded behind them.
“It, uh... I dunno,” he finally confessed after trying and failing to find a better excuse. “But you’ve been mad ever since Melody kissed me so... I figured this would help break the tension.”
Break the...
“You... Agh, Ash Ketchum!” she wailed finally in response, stomping her foot against the ferry’s deck and wishing desperately that it was his dumb face.
“Mwah! Was I wrong?” he yelped, leaping back a step, momentarily pursing his lips together afterwards as he replayed the moment where he leaned in and pressed them against her cheek, eyes squinting tightly shut. Weirdly, he hadn’t much minded such a gross decision but there was no time or energy to dwell on that at present.
“Gah! Of course you...” she began in reply, fists formed and looking mightily prepared to fight against something. But her anger burned to fumes rather quickly as she looked the oddly nervous boy up and down before it hit her... that he had no idea how deep this whole thing went, he couldn’t possibly fathom the details. He simply thought things were resolved now.
What a nice thought that was.
“... Maybe... you’re right, Ash.”
“I - I am?”
Misty sighed, blinking her eyes closed as they threatened to roll out of her head. A little romantic voice was screeching in joy at the back of her mind, the part of her that had knowingly declared herself to be Ash’s protector not more than two days ago. Most of her still seethed at his audacity to decide a kiss from him would quell her passionate fury but...
“Let’s just... call it even,” she abated, smiling faintly for the first time in at least a day, hands up in defeat.
He squinted suspiciously at her, unsure how to counter. Call it even... What had been uneven to begin with? He still didn’t know. Maybe such things were for the best. It was weird that his redheaded companion, usually so capable of holding a grudge, was acting so suddenly forgiving. But was it a good idea to look a gift Ponyta in the mouth? He certainly didn’t mind the idea of things returning to normal... even if a part of him now felt as though something different and new was burgeoning from deep down.
But Ash Ketchum has never been the observant type. And he generally had little to no patience for Misty Things™.
“Well, that’s good then... So we should go to bed?” he asked hopefully, pointing in the direction of the room their group was sharing.
“Oh, uh, you first. I still have to take care of something, y’know?” she replied, face tinged red once more for reasons unrelated to her romantic scope, reminding him what had made her venture out of bed in the first place.
Her rather smooth response reassured him that things would be fine though as they went their separate ways.
And by next morning, all was normal, mostly because both of them had convinced themselves that the kiss had either been some weird fantasy or some unexpected dream they had no option but to shake off.
But good luck trying to figure out who thought which.
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Hi! It's me again :) I would like to request another Ash comforting Misty flashfic. This time I imagined Misty having a panic attack. Hope the idea appeals to you! And take your time, no worries :)
[Hah, perhaps unfortunately, after I received this request and gave it a whopping five minutes of thought, I suddenly felt really inspired to just go for it.]
She was floating rather blissfully in a pool of water. Small waves lapped softly against her, pushing her rather loftily to and fro as she blinked up straight into a bright sun that, despite it’s shine, didn’t seem to hurt her vision. A multitude of water-type Pokemon were swimming around her, some diving under or leaping over, just everywhere… and she accepted this rather passively even not knowing whose Pokemon they were or where they’d come from.
It was a rather pleasant dream overall… until it wasn’t.
What’s…?
Suddenly she was sinking down, the sun fading away, taking its light and - she assumed though she couldn’t say she felt it - warmth with it. The Pokemon, no more than vague shadows representing familiarity, had all but vanished except for one.
She was gripping her Staryu by its top point as it dove deeper into inky, cool abyss, leading her towards… something. She was looking for something, desperate to save it, but she could barely see her Pokemon plunging through its element a foot or two in front of her. How could she possibly find…?
What’s happening…?
Training instincts told her to conserve oxygen, but her lips flew open anyway as if trying to call out to her target. Bubbles and breath and a single word escaped her, in such clear articulation she knew it shouldn’t have been possible.
“Ash!”
She was looking for Ash, her best friend. He’d fallen from so far, so fast… He was sinking! Was he even conscious…? She remembered now, at least that much, but the anchoring question of why seemed impossible to answer at present. She had to find him!
Where was he? How much farther would she have to go? How could she possibly hope to find him in this blackness? And how far had she gone without needing to take a breath…?
And yet Staryu continued to faithfully carry her onward in their mission.
She had reached a peak of lucidity just in time for an object slightly larger than her hand to float hazily by. Without concern, she snatched it out of the murk.
It was a cap she had seen on his head near constantly in recent days, her heart plummeting in breathless fear and panic at the sight of it in her grasp and him nowhere in sight. She didn’t think about the insensibility behind calling out to him again.
“Ash!” The shriek of her own unnerved horror threatened to deafen her as well as her Pokemon. “Ash, where are you?!”
“Misty, wake up!”
Her eyes snapped open, wiry muscles rigid as a damp sheen clung to her brow and neck. Fists clenching tightly around her bedroll, she leaped into a sitting position, at this point realizing she hadn’t taken a single breath since waking, inhaling deeply in response.
“I… What…?” she whispered, vocal chords weak and throat dry. Craning her neck, wild gaze taking in her surroundings, she was met with Ash Ketchum and his partner Pikachu staring her up and down looking reasonable taken aback from beside her.
“Uh… you okay?” the young man asked after a few seconds, leaning a little closer. She couldn’t answer, fingers wringing their way around the hem of her sleeping bag at the mere question. “You looked like you were having a nightmare.”
A nightmare…?
“Pikachupi, kachu pika?”
“Y - yeah, we were worried. Glad you’re up now though.” And, looking slightly bashful, averting his gaze, Ash added, “It… kinda sounded like you were calling out my name. But…”
Almost any other time, the redheaded teenage girl would have read something into how flustered he looked at the thought of her dreaming about him. She also would have had the clear head to feel self-conscious over an Ash donned in nothing more than boxer shorts and a bandage around his scalp, which was currently the case. All the sight did now was remind her of…
“I think… about earlier…” she muttered, heart leaping up into her throat, stomach churning before icing over. “Or… I guess it was yesterday…”
“Oh.” It was hard to tell by the dim light of the low fire but his face seemed a little paler.
Yesterday, when Team Rocket had last attacked them. It had been all of six or so hours ago; barely dusk. They had used their tricks to steal Pikachu as well as Ash’s belt lined with the rest of his Pokeballs before taking off in their latest hot air balloon.
In her effort to assist, Misty had released Staryu to sabotage their escape but her precious water-type’s rapid spin had only been able to cut all of two ropes tying the villains’ basket to their balloon. One rope had been secured again by the Rocket gang and tied slipshod once more while Ash, in furious pursuit, had grabbed the other one before they’d lifted too high from the ground, immediately carried up and away with them.
Misty had seen him try to climb it while she ran to catch up, seen also Team Rocket’s collected anger and alarm as they attempted to shake him loose before Jessie had released one of her own Pokemon to force the teenage boy to let go.
Ash hadn’t much chance at evading; it was hard to do so when he was busy trying to keep his grip on what was steadily becoming a literal life line, Pikachu calling out to him from where he was trapped a good twenty or so feet overhead.
Even from her slowly increasing distance, Misty heard the blast that was Jessie’s Gourgeist releasing their seed bomb. The attack descended, exploding as it approached her friend. Ash was shouting, slipping, flailing, a second explosive impact and he was suddenly falling from the sky as her heart stopped–
No more playing softball!
He’d hit the body of water that had (luckily) drifted below him with a sickening smack on his back, sunk quickly below the surface. It all happened so swiftly.
Gyarados appeared in a familiar flash of red and roared, his trainer commanding him to immediately leap and bite through Team Rocket’s balloon, tearing the fabric instantly and disabling the criminal trio’s getaway. So violent, so much, so fast.
In the meantime, Misty grabbed a hold of Staryu, inhaled deeply and held it, both diving to search for their friend… So dark… So gone… So quickly…
“Hey, are you okay?” Ash abruptly asked her, voice sounding distant and hollow, reverberating in her eardrums, the sound challenged by her roaring, pounding heartbeat.
“I…”
“Misty, what’s wrong?” He sounded a little more anxious now during round two, and she was surprised to vaguely notice his hand around her wrist, though she couldn’t feel it for some reason.
“I don’t…” She couldn’t breathe, response reduced to a throaty gasp. Her throat was coated in plastic and suffocating. Her skin was burning from cold somehow, she needed water–
–he was sinking so deep down–
–and air–
–holding her breath, but she would top out after one hundred and eighty seconds max and how much time had passed already–
–sweat was pouring from her forehead, her neck, she was either numb or aching, on fire, her gaze vacant, and it scared him if he was being honest–
“–Misty, what’s going on–?”
“Pikachupi!”
–where was he, where is he, how big is this place… his hat is in her free hand, her grip on Staryu stiffening, she would have to sacrifice the hat if, or when, she found him–
–so many times, this had happened too many times already since knowing him, what if she doesn’t get to him quick enough, what if he–
“–Hey!”
His shout was enough to momentarily clear her head. Perhaps he was able to sense that fact because he took advantage, and Misty felt the shocking impression of cool hands resting firmly against her flushed cheeks. Then the two were eye to eye and her wave of despair and doom and panic briefly subsided.
“Listen, Mist, you’re not there, you’re here. Pay attention to me right now!” he told her forcibly, and she felt him tug a little uncomfortably, her neck yanking, so she wouldn’t lose focus. “Look at me, okay? Can you do that?”
She could barely hear him, gaze flickering between the fire light glowing in his eyes to his fringe and lashes, to his cheeks… It was all him though… She could… She could do this!
“You need to take a breath! C’mon, we’ve got this, just do what I do, look,” after which he did indeed lead by example. She watched his chest rise and fall, his eyes fluttering momentarily closed and lips pursed barely open as he exhaled.
She gurgled and choked, blinked away the white hot tears at the corner of her burning eyes, halfheartedly shook her head in defeat.
“It’s okay, c’mon, we’ll try again together, now in through your nose,” he coached her, slowly initiating his own attempt and waiting until he heard her copy it before moving on, “and then out through your mouth… You got it!” he applauded her, “Okay, and again… Let’s do it a few more times…”
It seemed forever and yet also instantaneous for the symptoms to subside, and she did what she could to bear in mind what Ash was saying and doing to tether her to the present.
“–take a breath–”
His hands on her cheeks…
“–Pay attention to me right now–”
His shoulders rising and falling…
“–we’ll try again together–”
His face overtaking her vision, mere inches from hers, collarbone connecting to his bare chest…
Ash wasn’t sure what emotional response was most prevalent a few minutes later when his redheaded friend, still trembling a little but no longer writhing and choking, maneuvered to cover his hands with her own, both pairs now held against her cheeks. Part of him was pleased, it seemed to be her first conscious and calm move since… whatever had happened. Another part of him was loath to admit how flustered he felt as her somehow inconceivably soft fingers splayed over his own rougher ones.
“S - so… what happened?” he had the nerve to eventually ask her, though he could still barely look her in the eyes. Her current object of focus was Pikachu curled up in her lap while she patted his short fur coat. The teen boy noticed it offered a pleasant distraction, all things considered.
“Dunno,” she croaked, cleared her throat, tried to elaborate. “That’s… never happened before that I know of. It’s like… I was having that nightmare, I think it was based off what happened… y’know, yesterday… But then I couldn’t stop thinking of it… Then I was feeling it, like it was happening all over again, and I was… thinking of you, losing you…” She didn’t give the flush on her cheeks the chance to settle, continuing with her description. “Y’know, you worry me too much, Mr. Pokemon Master!” she finished rather harshly, faltering in her grounding activity.
“Mwah, wait a sec, now it’s my fault?!”
“Of course it is, you dummy! I mean, you shouldn’t have done that! We would have gotten your Pokemon back eventually! We always do!”
Rather than risk a rebuttal that would lead to another panic attack, he stared her down before heaving a deep sigh and relenting.
“Sorry… It’s second nature by now.”
She thought about asking him if he meant his self-sacrificing nature or worrying her to near death but decided against it. They’d been through enough by now and it was only roughly three in the morning!
“Y’know Ash, I can admit after all the time we’ve known each other… that I really like the kind of person you are,” she iterated almost affectionately instead, “You’re passionate and considerate, at least when you wanna be,” she made a point to add. “But sometimes… I really wish you’d take a little better care of yourself. Every time something like… like yesterday happens… I worry it’s the last time I’ll ever see you.”
The… last time? he thought, not quite understanding immediately what she’d been getting at… Oh, there it was. He hummed under his breath, brow furrowed, had gotten to the point of opening his mouth without a clue as to what he’d say before she interrupted him.
“Well, if there’s anything I know for sure it’s that there’s no changing you… so I guess for now at least I’ll have to do my best to support you.”
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” The response was so simple but he honestly had no idea what else he could say. Perhaps it was something for another time.
“I mean, after your help earlier, I guess I owe you, right?”
But Ash was briefly overwhelmed by the flashback of his regaining consciousness with blurred vision on the hard ground the evening before, head aching and blood dripping from his temple, Misty kneeling over him soaking wet and shaking from the brisk chill, practically crying even as she smiled in relief at the sight of him coming to.
His gratitude and… something he couldn’t quite place swept through him and swelled up, filling every ounce of his person as he took in the sight of his best friend sitting at his side.
“Please, Mist,” he told her peaceably in utter confidence, “it was the least I could do for you.”
[There were a couple details i left out because of the word count limit. Ash was down to boxers because he didn’t plan ahead, simple as that. His only outfit was soaked after falling into the water so yeah, it’s meant to be air-drying. Misty is fully dressed because she did plan ahead. Lol. Ash also received some cuts and stuff from the minor explosives and Pikachu escaped his cage when Gyarados attacked TR’s balloon, after which he rescued his trainer’s PokeBelt from them. Just in case anyone was curious. As for Misty’s panic attack timing, I felt that the adrenaline rush in the moment would keep her from falling prey to it so that’s why it takes place hours later when she has time to think. As for how Ash helps her control it, he’s instinctively offering her deep breathing and grounding techniques which - if you’re unfamiliar - are pretty basic mental coping skills.
Also a few unrelated things: Please do not just like this story! If you had a good time reading, I implore you to share this and help me spread the word about this blog! I haven’t received many requests lately, only one every 6-15 days! That being said, if you have a fic request, please send it in! I have 1 or 2 in my inbox and a couple others in drafts that I’ve started but I could use some more prompts if you’re interested in me writing for them!]
Askfic off the top of my head. Someone calls Misty a harpy after she scolds them for mistreating... ?
“Jeezus, you’re a real class act, huh?”
“Excuse me?” the redhead shrieked in a somewhat breathless tone, arms somewhere between crossing defensively over her chest and posturing before her, fists instantaneously ready to physically defend herself.
“Yikes, I wish I’d known before I left town that I was gonna need earplugs today. What a drag…” the opposing young girl shrugged with a hint of a snide smirk.
“Look, just ‘cause you wanna turn around and insult me for calling you out doesn’t mean I’m gonna walk away and pretend I didn’t see what I saw!”
“And if you’d look, you’d realize that what you saw is none of your business anyway, okay? So why don’t you just turn your scrawny self around and get outta here! These are my Pokemon and I can train them how I want!”
Misty scowled, fingers itching to grab the girl by her neck and wring it until she was more disposed to listening to a more knowledgeable person’s advice.
“I’m telling you as someone who’s seen it before, treating Magikarp like this is dangerous.”
“I have no reason to trust you just because you say you know better! I caught these Pokemon myself for the sole purpose of evolving them! A full team of super strong Gyarados on my side? Hardly anyone will stand a chance!” the young female trainer guffawed.
An overall distant memory of being stranded at sea with some of her worst enemies and, at the time, more acquaintances than friends fluttered to the top of Misty’s mind. Their raft capsized and she was overcome with cold, dark, and loneliness.
This was followed by a somewhat more recent recollection of her first day as the covering Cerulean Gym lead trainer, trying her best to tame the territorial and abandoned Gyarados her sisters had left behind when they went on their voyage.
Now, months later, she was finally able to spend a few days with her friends again, had escaped Team Rocket’s latest mon-napping attempt or few and found an opportunity to relax, only to stumble on a stranger using pseudo-abusive training to force their Pokemon to evolve as fast as possible. She was only supposed to be refilling the group’s canteens again for the rest of the night!
Her wary gaze dropped sympathetically to the rather pathetic looking three water-types flailing uselessly in the stream before her, a somewhat aggressive electric-type Misty loosely recognized from the Hoenn region named Electrike posturing on their haunches between them with electricity crackling around its head.
By the time she’d shaken herself from her reverie and returned to the present, the younger lass had turned haughtily on her heel and appeared to be preparing her electric-type to attack her other Pokemon again.
“Wait!” the redhead cried desperately, one step taken instinctively forward even with her arms full of canteens dangling from their straps. But what else was there to say? Other than looking temporarily the worse for wear, the three Magikarp didn’t seem to be malnourished, ill, or afraid. And though the voice in the back of her head was still demanding her warning be validated, another part of her wondered if the girl was right. What business was this of hers?
“Misty? I thought that was you!” a familiar voice called out from somewhere behind her.
“Oh, Ash–”
“–Ugh, now your dumb friends are butting in?!”
“Mwah?!” Ash replied, dismayed at the slight to his ego immediately after his arrival, clutching the firewood he’d offered to gather more tightly in his arms.
“Look, I’ll tell you what I already told her! I can train my Pokemon how I want! This was my plan from the start, to toughen them up and push them to evolve! I’m not doing anything wrong! And you!” she rounded on Misty once more, Ash forgotten in the background though he still appeared to be trying to piece one and one together, frantically glancing between the two girls. “Why are you still even here, you harpy?! Screeching and wailing for me to do what you say?! I don’t owe you such courtesy! I don’t even know you so I have no reason to listen to you!”
“Wha - hey, wait a sec!” the younger male trainer shouted obstinately now before Misty’s fiery spirit could kick in. And to her (rather pleasant, if she were being honest) surprise, Ash leaped in front of her as if to protect her from anymore emotional damage. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but Misty was probably just trying to help! … Uh, right?” he finished awkwardly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
The redhead found herself nodding mutely, still shocked at his apparent chivalry. Glancing past him, she saw the female trainer gritting her teeth, brow furrowed, mortified at what probably felt akin to two strangers ganging up on her. And it hit her instantaneously that she’d found the source of the opposing girl’s bitterness.
Maybe if I try a softer approach?
“Look, I know it might not mean anything…” she began calmly and swiftly, unceremoniously dropping her armful of canteens to the ground and taking a cautious step forward, “but I’m actually a gym leader from this region.”
“Pssht, yeah right!” the lass responded stubbornly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. A few seconds passed before she glanced suspiciously at her would-be attacker, “… Which gym?”
“Uh, in Cerulean. The gym belongs to my family. My name is Misty.”
Perhaps it was the city name or the sound of the redhead’s identity sounding semi-familiar but the girl responded with sudden embarrassed comprehension, though she quickly stifled it so nobody would notice.
“W - well, even if that’s true…” she stuttered instead, gaze alternating between aversion and boldness before she trailed off.
It took every ounce of Misty’s willpower not to roll her eyes. She was finally making progress though so she couldn’t forfeit now.
“I li - love Pokemon but… water-types are my favorite. I’ve always liked them most of all and my dream is to eventually be the best water-type master trainer in the world,” the redhead continued, taking another discreet step forward and offering a halfhearted glance in the direction of the group of Pokemon in the background.
“I know how important it is to be the strongest. The best. I mean, even at home, I wasn’t allowed to help with the gym until pretty recently. And if I really plan to be a master, I know… that there’s a lot I still have to learn and do to prove myself to everyone. But…”
“Ngh…!” The girl was very clearly going through an internal struggle.
Finally facing her supposed adversary, Misty took a firm hold of the other girl’s hands and tugged softly, enough so they were inclined to look each other in the eye.
“… But finding shortcuts like these, though tempting, never ends well. I’ve seen newly evolved Gyarados create storms and wreak havoc intense enough to almost kill people. I mean, I have a Gyarados now myself!” And, before the girl could interrupt, Misty went on, “But the first time we met, he tried t - to drown me.”
She was faintly aware of Ash, still relatively close in case things escalated again, straightening his back, breath caught in his throat at this news. Her story also appeared to have quite the effect on her intended audience, as the young lass before her stared wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.
“Gyarados are violent and impulsive, instinctive and distrusting. If you really want a whole squad of them to help you prove yourself in this world… then you need to put in the work too. It’s the only way you’re going to earn their loyalty and respect.”
Things were awkwardly silent for the following minute or so. Making one last effort to break the tension, the redhead pulled her hands away long enough to rummage in her bag, removing a small spray bottle and holding it out.
“Here’s a super potion. It may not be enough to get your Magikarp all back to perfect health but it should help for now if they share it. And, for the record, you were right. None of this here is really any of my business but… I guess I just hope you’ll make the right choice in the end.”
The trip back to their group’s campsite roughly ten minutes later was steeped in pregnant and tense quiet murky enough to almost bowl her over. Misty had walked a few minutes away after their conversation to finally complete her task of filling canteens and hadn’t had the nerve to check back in with the girl before returning to their friends.
She could only wonder if she’d really gotten through…
Ash’s pace slowed, he fell a little further in step behind her, but intended to follow through with his inquiry anyway.
“So… that story about Gyarados nearly drowning you? Is that… I guess that’s true, huh?”
Her step faltered too, mind racing as she contemplated her response. Part of her had expected he wouldn’t ask, another part had expected he might even if it would be hard to talk about.
“Uh… yeah.”
“Oh. I guess… when we met him in Hoenn, I didn’t… get that impression. He seemed so…”
“… Loyal and respectful?” she volunteered with a knowing half-smile. “Well, how else would I have known what to say before? Trust begets trust and love begets love. It’s a good lesson to learn, Mr. Pokemon Master.”
“Does stuff like… like that happen often since returning to Cerulean?” he went on, and Misty blinked, impressed by his curiosity.
She was very briefly overwhelmed with memories of her other adventures; PIA Agent Joy secretly inspecting her gym, those awful brothers from Viridian stalking her and seeking vengeance, being attacked by Pokemon and Team Rocket on several occasions…
“Well,” she offered with the faintest giggle, and Ash was grateful for the cover of darkness hiding his flushed cheeks, “no more often than when we traveled together for sure.”
“But that was different!” His response was automatic, almost oversensitive. She hadn’t expected them to talk in such detail about this situation. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d get a rise out of Ash like this. She was torn between taking offense or having her uncertainty put to rest.
“Oh yeah? How’s that?”
She wondered, albeit briefly, if he was about to blame himself somehow. Alas…
“Because! We had each other then, didn’t we? But now that you’re home…” he trailed off, looked at the ground before kicking a pebble in frustration. Where were the words he needed? And the courage to say them to her for that matter! “Now… we don’t… you don’t have me, ‘yknow, there.”
He was suddenly feeling quite overheated, cheeks and neck and ears uncomfortably toasty after his confession.
“… Oh.”
Well, that was unexpected.
“Y - yeah, so you need to take better care of yourself from now on!” he practically yelped in complaint before stomping forward and passing her by, still refusing to look her in the eye in case she noticed his predicament.
... Hypocrite! she replied internally, surprised that it was accompanied by a suppressed bark of laughter as she picked up the pace to rejoin him.
A good thing too because apparently their conversation wasn’t over.
“That all being said… I think ya handled that really well back there. These kinds of situations can be tricky…” To conceal his lack of breath at such flattering commentary, he continued rambling, “Uh, what’s it called? Like a gray area? It reminds me of when we met AJ right after we first started traveling together.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess it’s sort of the same, huh…?” she replied softly, almost wistfully. “Still no way to know if I made the right call… But I think I did what was best for her and her Pokemon so that’s… really all that I can expect of myself.”
They were one wall of foliage away from their friends now. Ash had resorted to awkwardly clearing his throat, refusing to look her in the eye. Misty, unsure if it was the frustrating prospect of being cornered by a curious May, Max, and Brock later over such odd behavior, or else an impish streak hoping test Ash’s patience one last time tonight, or even the genuine friend in her hoping to give a little something back after all the emotional intimacy he’d bared for her this evening, decided to go for it.
“Y’know Ash, I think you handled yourself well tonight too.”
He stared blankly back at her, one brow just beginning to furrow as he begged the question, “Uh… I did? How?”
She felt an instant warmth spread from her chest to her limbs, heartbeat so violently loud she could feel it pulsing in her fingertips as they unconsciously twirled around a particular canteen strap from anxiety. Still, the memory of Ash stepping to her defense and placing himself between her and any perceived threat had been quite the romantic experience. Not to mention the other precious pieces of himself he’d proffered over the past hour or so…
“Oh, I mean, it’s nothing much. I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful you showed up tonight, I guess. Now let’s get back. I’m surprised they didn’t start looking for us after all this time!” And they crashed unanimously through the underbrush, stumbling back to their destination for the night, one final thought crossing Misty’s mind.
With Ash’s heart sewn so loosely on his sleeve, it was quite easy to tell even after all this time… exactly how he felt about her.
[Btw, my intention was that this fic took place during the short time Ash and Misty travel together again with May, Max, and Brock after Ash’s return from Hoenn.
Btw x2, if you’re so obliged, please reblog this fic and spread news of this blog. I know posts are slower now, work is hectic and I don’t have as much time to write, but I would like to get some more fic requests. Every time I ask lately I’ve only gotten 0-1 at a time.]
Hey there! Are ya still open for writing lil ficlets? Was there a list you uploaded for people to choose from?
Hey there, thanks for your interest in sending fic requests. As stated in the past, requests are always open but may not always be fulfilled. It honestly just depends on how receptive my fickle muse is to them.
There is no ongoing list of prompts either. You can check the FAQ for vague guidelines on what to submit, or else the masterfic list is mostly fulfilled requests (so you can see what others have sent in up til now to give you some ideas).
I’ll also take this opportunity to apologize again to any readers of this blog’s content. I’ve been working a lot of overtime and feeling pretty stressed again. I had started writing my response to someone’s request but then life got too busy to keep up with it. I’m going to try and finish that fic sometime this week. I would also hope to fulfill at least one other request by the end of the weekend too but... well, we’ll see I guess.
Feel free to keep sending your requests; just try to keep them to one or two a person so everyone has a shot at having their request accepted.
Hey, life is still hectic of course but I'd like to get back into somewhat more consistently working on this blog. That being said, I've only received about 2-3 requests over the post couple weeks and I'd like to have some more options at my fingertips in case inspiration hits. (By comparison, this blog has gained 6-8 followers in the same timespan.)
Please send your requests via ask if you have them. Of course, try to keep it to one or two a person just in case somehow everyone else decides to send them after this post too but yeah.
I'd also like to request that people please reblog the newest fanfics too if they haven't to try and help get the word out that this blog exists and is looking for increased productivity. (Another comparison: There’s been an average of 1 reblog to every 5-7 likes. I’m hoping more people reblogging will invite new followers and fic requests.)
Thank you for your time, guys. And welcome to the new followers!
Hi! Someone sent this request to mythgirlimagines and I loved what she came up with. Could you come up with something else or expand on her idea please? :) link: mythgirlimagines(.)tumblr(.)com/post/190057630070/hello-could-you-do-some-hurtconfort-for-ash-and
(I went to ask @mythgirlimagines for use/expansion of her headcanons before writing this. Here’s hoping I do it justice for everyone. Not really sure what to expand on but I don’t mind fleshing out the situation in prose. PS: User @nebli suggested the stories Ash tells of his younger!childhood. I’m bad at headcanons so I asked for help.)
You practically bite into your own arm to muffle the deep inhale of brisk late night air as it filters into your lungs, bracing yourself stock still behind a grand oak with easiest access to the stream nearby your group’s campsite.
Your redheaded companion is sitting with her back to you at the edge of the water, unoccasionally sniffling and shoulders heaving in a motion you’re semi-familiar with because, hey, it’s not like you’ve never cried before in your life.
Oh. Misty’s… crying?
That’s… that was new. Or rather, new-ish. You could scarcely remember her shedding a tear or few during the last few years on the road, though you think there was something back in the hidden village where you met Bulbasaur, and then there was the Lavender Tower… (How do you even remember any of that anyway?)
You shake yourself from your reverie, returning to present thought process.
You’d wondered why she was missing from the campsite. And yet you told yourself you were only getting up to use the nearest foliage as your bathroom and not to search for her in the darkness while all other companions (your Pokemon as well as resident caretaker Brock, returned to your group after his temporary departure in the Orange Islands) slept the night peacefully away… but here you are almost ten minutes later after walking obstinately farther than was needed to relieve yourself.
You should have remained wrapped up snug in your sleeping bag.
After all, what are you supposed to do with this? Though you loathe to admit it, you can barely handle Misty’s ire and passion and weird girly personality in any other instance; what are you supposed to do with a Misty who’s crying alone in the middle of the night?
You sigh as faintly as possible, a few memories fluttering to the surface of your consciousness in response to that question.
Misty following you out to the deck of a large cruise liner and begging to know why you look so troubled, offering you rather obvious advice in hindsight… but it sure helped to know she understood.
Misty reminding you that Butterfree is leaving to start a family of his own with his new mate and you’d better take this chance to say your goodbyes while you have it… because that was more important than sulking over losing a friend.
Misty stalking rigidly into your assigned guest room at Indigo Plateau after your loss in the league, strong-arming you out of your brooding state.
Misty appearing over you after your hometown battle with Gary, a faint expression of sympathy flitting across her face before she points out that you’d better get a move on and start your trek to Johto if you don’t want to fall even further behind your childhood rival.
You roll your eyes so intensely in response to all these rather telling signs that you feel a bit dizzy a moment later.
Misty is crying alone in the middle of the night… and you know what you have to do.
But how to go about it? By the grace of all gods, it seems she hasn’t noticed your presence yet (though it’s assumed that she’s rather preoccupied). However the last thing you want is to set her off down the path of righteous fury and end up her victim.
Tsking to yourself, you squint your eyes shut again, brow creased in frustration. You’re thinking too much into this. It’s not like you to dedicate so much time to mollifying Misty of all people.
Instinct takes over and you bungle your way loudly through the foliage, sure to get her attention, making it look like an accident.
“Oh, uh, Misty. Funny running into you here.”
Stellar improvisation from the future number one Pokemon Master in the world.
However if she senses anything amiss in your approach, she doesn’t address it. Perhaps because she busies herself instead with wiping furiously at her splotched red cheeks, hiccuping and doing her utmost to rub the dry red from her eyes.
“I was just going to the bathroom,” you continue, “I didn’t know you were up too.”
Despite knowing your best option is to play innocent bystander… a twinging pierce briefly tugs in your chest over the thought of lying to her. But there’s no time to dwell, nope, gotta dig in whether she catches on or not.
“So anyway… Uh, is something wrong?” Yep, that sounded natural. Well, it’s not that it didn’t but you are suddenly overtly aware that you’ve never honestly asked this question of her since the start of your journey together. Instead the question was always a condescending rebuff in the middle of a fight.
Lips pursed, gaze averted, “… Of course not, Mr. Pokemon Master,” she responds in a brusque yet weak murmur. It’s not the least bit convincing. Well, you weren’t exactly expecting the confrontation to be a cakewalk…
Your initial approach had been sudden - element of surprise enough to distract her from her potential mortifying rage at being discovered in so compromising a demeanor. Over the past minute or so, you’ve cautiously edged yourself across the clearing, eventually coming to a stop just behind her before easing yourself into a sitting position at her side.
Welp… here you both are, you couldn’t help thinking warily, fingers drumming softly against your own knees, waiting for something to give.
Oh, and give something did as the redheaded girl beside you, in a much too far removed reaction compared to her previous attempt at concealing her despondence, suddenly leans forward, presses her rather wet and beet-colored face into your neck, one hand curling loosely around the hem of your sleeve to keep you there as she releases a sharp bawl.
Whoa, wait, mayday! you shriek internally, eyes wide and scalp and ears flushing uncomfortably hot. Alarms are ringing in uproarious, disorienting fashion and the panic sets in so instantaneous and intense that it’s enough to make you feel positively ill.
This doesn’t happen. This has never happened before between you two! What’s she thinking? What’re you supposed to do?!
It’s life or death, you know, as your instincts kick in, the hand closest to her reaching up and brushing the back of her neck, grasping her opposing shoulder and pulling her ever so slightly closer to you while she continues weeping.
It’s hard to tell if this is the right move or not. True, Misty hasn’t made any negative maneuver against you but she also hasn’t given you any signal that her mood is improving. Doing your best to smother your impatience, you internally count the seconds, minutes as they pass, staring vaguely into the dimly lit distance while the teenage girl beside you carries on grossly using your sleeve as her new personal tissue.
Ick, the thought crosses your mind before you push it aside and barrel forward, unable to take the awkward tension anymore… But what to do about it?
“Ya know, when I was a kid,” there’s a brief pause when, bless her, Misty offers a skeptical glance between sniffles, “Uh, a younger kid, Gary and I were racing around the outskirts of Pallet and I tripped over him and landed in this lake nearby. There was a school of Magikarp swimming by and one of ‘em stopped to slap me in the face with its tail ‘cause I disrupted their formation.”
Despite her gloom, you hear a distinct snort in response to your story. Feeling invigorated by your success, you continue with your distracting babble. At the same time you bide your time coming up with your next contribution. You want to help her but you also don’t wanna offer her any ammunition she can use for blackmail later on.
“Once, there was this time when my mom was super busy with work and I was worried she was gonna get sick so I tried to make her some homemade juice using fruits and veggies from our garden. It, uh… I wasn’t paying attention and it ended up all over the kitchen,” you finish rather lamely, wistful as the memory came to mind.
This time you’re rewarded with a faint, faltering giggle. It impresses you just how much making someone - Misty - feel a little better can fill you with so much pride.
Still, though the actual crying begins to subside, her features are contorted with a sense of mourning.
“So…” you try again apprehensively, “are ya ever gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
She stiffens, shrugging then shaking her head. A fleeting question crosses your mind. What’s more important; your curiosity over what may have happened or the intent of encouraging a friend when they’re feeling low…?
Of course, you know the answer in a heartbeat.
“Okay well… are you ok - uh, will you be okay?”
A pause, one final brush between her face and your sleeve before she pulls a few inches away with a sigh.
“Nngh, yeah… I’ll be… I’m better now. I mean, not one hundred percent,” she elaborates at the sight of your raised brow, “but better than I was b - before you came along.” She finishes her statement with her facial features arranged in a complicated expression.
“I guess I should thank you, Ash.” And, unable to help herself, she adds, “Who woulda known you’d be good company in an emotional crisis?”
Ah, well if she can throw out a line like that then she must be telling the truth.
“Well, you know…” you reply almost bashfully, puffing up your chest before sobering up. “But I’m glad… that you’re okay. So wait, I guess you’re heading back to bed now?”
“Oh, um…” She appears slightly troubled over such a probing suggestion, buying time, focusing on wiping her cheeks dry. “I still feel a little restless. I’ll probably just stay here and stare out at the water. You know how much I love this kinda view.”
“Then I’ll stay too,” you reply automatically, so much so that your eyes widen, shocked at what your mouth had decided to commit you to without conscious thought. “I mean... if that’s okay.”
She blinks, gaze never leaving your person, though she moves her cursory glance up and down as if checking for remorse or bad intentions behind your offer. And yet, notwithstanding your awe, you find you don’t regret your decision. Finally her survey softens and, taking things a step further, she resituates herself so that she can rest her head against your shoulder again.
The initially jarring predicament lulls into acceptance. You find that you rather like don’t mind relaxing with Misty in such close proximity, especially when she’s in a good mood though, in retrospect, you wouldn’t mind it if she wasn’t either, provided you were in the process of helping her.
You won’t talk about it tomorrow but you also quite enjoy the way your arms bump together before she laces her fingers with your own, spending the final twenty or so minutes of your time together wordlessly holding hands.
Some say love is truest when you know as much as you can about the other person… but on this night, in this instance, love is respecting a boundary and offering whatever support you can when it’s needed despite your ignorance.
(Yeah, by the time the two of them do head back to the campsite, Ash is practically ready to wet himself. Lol. And, as a reminder, this blog is currently - and always but definitely currently since I’m trying to get back into writing - accepting new requests via ask! Please view the rules and FAQ as needed!)
Hey guys, if any of this blog’s followers are still out there, I wouldn’t mind you sending in a request or two for a fic. I want to try and finish the final part to my “dreaming” trilogy next (and then possibly the sequel to my newest fic but I’m wondering if anyone may send in a request specifically for that)... But the couple old requests left in my box may just be erased since so much time has gone by and I have no way of knowing if those who sent them are still present (as well as I’m not necessarily “feeling” them).
PS: I updated the master fic list page with my two latest contributions.
sentence prompt if you’re feeling up to it? :D “You kissed me, and you know it, too!”
“I know what you did, Ash.”
The words are a breathless, almost threatening, hiss from behind him as he’s begrudgingly washing Brock’s cookware in a nearby stream after their latest meal on the road as a group.
“Mwah! Oh, uh, M - Misty, what’re ya doin’ here…?” he asks with just enough aversion from her intense gaze to make her even more assuredly suspicious, turning back much too quickly to continue his chore before continuing to speak. “Oh, and, uh… what are ya talkin’ about?”
She squints dubiously at his back, willing him with her glare to simply jump up and confess but he of course does no such thing so she decides to cunningly elaborate just enough to jog his memory (and, hey, if doing so also happens to thoroughly embarrass him then that’s just as well in her opinion).
“Earlier today when Team Rocket attacked…”
No more acknowledgement to this minuscule clue than a single grunt.
“… and then Jigglypuff showed up…”
He sighs now, dries off the pot Brock cooked his apple and pork stew in, sets it aside on another towel, and finally side-eyes her, exasperatedly waiting for her continuation.
“… and put us all to sleep.”
“Yeah, okay, I remember… Is this about how we somehow woke up next to each other? Or about how our legs were tangled up a little bit together?” There’s finally a brief flash of panic (and, dare she believe it) a faint puce blush discoloring his otherwise tan face.
Ash leaps to his feet, nearly tripping over his own toes, dropping the dish wand on the ground but holding up the group’s cutting board as if brandishing a weapon of sorts.
“Look Misty, you can’t blame me for that! Jigglypuff put us to sleep! It’s not like we had time to set up our sleeping bags! A - and you had your arm wrapped around my shoulder s - so we’re either both innocent or both guilty, okay?” he yelps, clearly ignorant to her sigh of frustration (or else attributing it to him apparently trying to dodge any responsibility).
“I - I’m not talking about that!” she exclaims hotly with a stomp of her foot. “I - I mean, who even cares about how we woke up?” Not her, no siree, there was absolutely nothing weird or overly comforting about that experience so they’d best move on quickly and never look back at it.
“Oh, well then,” and he drops his arms to his sides and shrugs again, “I really dunno what you’re talking about.”
She groans, masking fury with a somewhat softer vexation, obviously unwilling to admit why she wants him to confess but finding no alternate avenue to get him to that point anytime soon.
“Of course you know what I’m talking about! Don’t play dumb, Ash! You kissed me, and you know it too!” she practically shrieks, jabbing in his direction with a judgmental index finger.
“I… did… mwah?! What? Huh? Me?! No I didn’t! I would never!” His hyperventilation mistaken at first for pure ignorance, he couldn’t help but rectify it by adding a scathing personal slight at her. “I - I mean, as if I ever would? Me, kiss you? C’mon, Mist, don’t be crazy.”
“So you’re just gonna deny it?” she seethes back at him, only able to hold in her visceral instinctive violence at his insult by clenching her fists so tight her knuckles turn a splotchy red.
“Of course I am! I wanna know what makes you think I’d ever even bother doing something like that with you?”
“I’m not thinking anything, Mr. Pokemon Master! I know what I felt back there. Before Team Rocket and Jigglypuff came along, you were drinking ice water. And then when Jigglypuff put us to sleep… It felt cold and moist! Like an eel or something slimy! I guess it suits you though, huh?” she finishes deducing snidely, turning her nose up at him and jamming her hands against her hips.
After all, if he was gonna play dirty, why should she worry about keeping to a fair game?
“Hey! Just ‘cause you had some weirdo dream about me layin’ one on ya doesn’t mean you get to make up lies! If I actually wanted to kiss you,” there was a brief balking beat of quiet as both young teens blushed awkwardly at the thought and Ash cleared his throat to go the distance and finish his line, “it woulda left you speechless!”
“Well first of all, I didn’t dream anything, Ash Ketchum! I know what I felt, it happened right before we all fell asleep. And you were the only one nearby when we were knocked out so who else could it have been?!”
“All the more reason it probably wasn’t real,” he responded with a resigned shrug and shake of his head.
“But secondly, it goes without saying that I wouldn’t let you kiss me in a hundred years if I had any choice in the matter! Trust ya to take advantage of a girl falling unconscious! You’re starting to remind me of Brock with moves like that!” she huffs darkly with an icy stare, and despite everything (including the truth), he’s left feeling like a shriveled slug ready to be crushed under her heel.
“I - I told ya already that I didn’t–”
Any further debate of the subject is put on hold by the sound of a frantic scurrying as Pikachu dashes from behind some foliage and greets two of his favorite trainers, expression turning from cheerful to confused by the clearly aggressive stances and atmosphere greeting him.
“Oh, hey buddy,” the young male trainer begins hastily, gathering up their assorted supplies into his arms and smiling clumsily at him, “I guess this took me longer than I planned. Did I worry ya? It’s fine though; I’m done so we can head back now.”
He brushes swiftly past her, hoping the unbearable topic can be put to rest at least for now but…
“Hey, don’t think this is over, Ash! I’m not letting you get away that easily! You better just admit it!”
Misty turns so quickly on her heel that she feels something pull haphazardly in the wrong direction, flinching but otherwise belaying no knowledge of her self-induced injury, flying back in front of her tentative friend and glaring daggers at him.
When she’d first sneaked away from the group’s campsite to confront him, a small glimmer of hope had taken stead within her. This was her chance, she’d thought. Maybe she could finally see… what he really thought. After all, if something as explicit as a kiss had truly taken place between them, how could either of them go on acting like they didn’t care about one another? That they didn’t… love like each other in a romantic way?
But her hope was doused rather quickly in reality and she’s no longer looking to make it flourish anew. Now she’s looking for vengeance.
Ash Ketchum stole a kiss from her and is pretending it didn’t happen. That’s entirely too unacceptable for her to let him walk away unscathed.
“Pikapi? Pikachu kachu pikachupi?”
But she wasn’t counting on an audience arriving for any part of their encounter.
“Heh, it’s nothing, Pikachu. Just another silly fight, right, Misty?”
“It’s not silly,” she mutters furiously with watery eyes, blinking away enraged tears, clearing her throat, “It’s not silly to me and I don’t… I can’t have you blowing it off. Earlier today when Jigglypuff sung their song and put us to sleep, you kissed me. Even if it was an accident… even if you don’t want to admit it… what’s the harm, huh? I don’t want or expect anything else from you.”
Ash stares evenly at her, no time to respond to her latest sentimental accusation.
“Pika…” the electric mouse replies despondently, wriggling uneasily from his position on the ground… before suddenly stiffening into a bipedal posture and leaping forward to grasp her around her ankle. “Pikachupi!”
“Wah…? Pikachu, what’re you doing? Look, it may not seem like it but this is an important conversation between your trainer and I.”
“Pikachupi! Pika pikachu pikapi chu pika!”
He doesn’t let up, doesn’t give her a chance to look away, draws Ash’s attention as well to his one player game of charades. He points at them each individually, then himself before scrabbling up Ash’s back and onto his shoulder. Finally, in true acrobatic spirit, he tumbles forward in a roll from the top of his trainer’s torso, landing briefly in his arms before making an effort to flip into Misty’s.
Finally, he stretches up from where he’s perched and taps his nose against her lips.
His cold, moist nose.
And Ash and Misty, both starting the show as a rather unanimously bewildered audience, end it with the same expression of wide-eyed comprehension dawning over them in a crushing wave.
Misty feels her bones turn to liquid in an attempt to disappear from the face of the earth before the words are even out of his mouth.
“I think what Pikachu is trying to say,” and Ash isn’t sure if he’s trying to hurt or help the situation at this point, “is that he’s your culprit.”
(So… sequel? I’m thinking sequel. Anyway, here’s this request [semi-]fulfilled. It was meant to be more funny at first but of course I had to throw some dramatics in there. Imagine how guilty Misty’s gonna feel once the mortification and anger wear off, huh? :-D)
@pok3ship it means I sure would like to be. Alas, I'm dealing with a lot of financial, mental health, and writer's block issues currently. In fact it took sporadic dedication over the course of two weeks to churn out this latest fic.
Uuuugh... But I know about what appears to be the official shutdown of the Pokeshipping blog and I know Pokeshipping Week is coming up... I hope people (myself included) will find the passion and willingness to contribute.
The semi-darkness blankets them just well enough to not be able to clearly see one another, as well as to block out any distinguishable traits of the crowd chanting his name from beyond the veil.
“They’ll likely be calling you out any second now,” Lillie forewarns him with a kind smile, and he returns it before winking at the electric mouse curled over his shoulder.
“Ya hear that, buddy? It’ll finally be our time to shine!” he exclaims, pumping both fists tightly against his chest before loosening back up.
“Pikachu Pikapi!”
“I guess you should take this back, huh?” Mallow asks offhandedly, holding out a rather familiar glimmering golden trophy. “The adoring public will probably be expecting you to show it off now that you’re the first champion trainer of the Manalo Conference.”
“Ah, thanks,” he replies rather bashfully considering, clearing his throat to shake off the briefly overwhelming nervous excitement and shuffling the trophy around in his arms until he’s able to tuck it under one of them.
Adoring public, huh…? he mulls over internally with a wistful expression most can’t decipher.
He’ll never say it aloud but his initial thought after winning the final match against Professor Kukui is how he can’t even believe it. Ash Ketchum has practically been all over the world, he’s seen more places than probably any other single person he’s ever met before, won more gym challenges and participated in more leagues than he has fingers on the one hand… But he hasn’t taken home the gold until now.
It’s crazy to think that he was in disbelief over his own victory, over his own Pokemon team’s capabilities, at any point over the course of his adventure. After that thought - I can’t believe it! - had crossed his mind and faded away, he’d shaken his head. Why couldn’t he? He and his Pokemon were plenty strong! If anyone else had asked him before the very moment he’d blinked up at the sky and his surroundings in the very same stadium he was standing in now, basking in the afterglow of triumph, he would have guffawed in assured confidence and said it was only a matter of time!
The chanting grows ever louder as Professor Kukui speaks fondly of his experiences in breathing life into Alola’s Pokemon League, as well as his pride at having one of his own students best him in battle.
He knows he’s probably two minutes or less away from being formally introduced as the reigning champion of the Manalo Conference. And, adversely, in the faint few moments before his induction, Ash Ketchum is suddenly overcome with a strange bout of nervousness.
Why would he doubt himself, even for a second…? In what can almost be considered a trial run of a new league branch, does his win even count? What does the weight of the gold-glinting trophy in his arms mean for him and his next journey…?
Perhaps sensing the sudden tension in his trainer’s shoulders, Pikachu kneads his sharp claws into Ash’s shirt, the young boy flinching from the minor pinch of pain in his flesh.
“Pikapi…” the electric mouse starts, nudging him affectionately in the jaw, “chu kachu pika?”
“It’s, uh… it’s nothing,” he replies breathlessly, his fingers burning, paling as they strengthen the grip on his trophy. “I’m just… It’s weird but I’m okay.” And he does what he can to blink away the uncertainty swarming after his statement.
This is stupid.
“What’s going on, Mr. Pokemon Master?” a rather sharp whisper snakes into his right ear, causing him to jump from its sudden intrusion into his consciousness.
“Oh. Misty.”
He says it like he’s forgotten her existence, or at least as if he’s forgotten the fact that she and Brock had bothered to take even more time away from their homes and their duties to see him compete in Alola’s league.
The redhead squints suspiciously at him in the low light, hands tucked behind her back throughout the course of her once over as she leans in ever closer. He thinks she must be angry at him for his previous tone. Little does she know this whole thing isn’t about her at all.
“You look anxious.”
…. Okay, so maybe she does know.
Well, at least the basics. There’s no way she knows him well enough to see the internal battlefield overrunning his mind.,, right? Not taking the risk, Ash Ketchum does what he’s prone to do when Misty Waterflower happens to touch a nerve.
Deny. Deny. Deny!
“No I’m not.” Shame that such an intense and unfamiliar emotion seems to have taken control of his vocal chords, and the three word assertion sounded much more panicked than he’d intended.
“Why are you anxious?” she asks, not accusatory, rather genuinely curious… It’s a bit perturbing if he’s being (again, internally) honest.
“Like I said, I’m not! I dunno where ya got that idea, Mist.”
This reply does him no good. Not only has he learned over the course of the past few years of knowing her that the redheaded trainer is unlikely to give up when she finds a debate worth pursuing but also it draws the attention of the rest of their group of friends.
He clears his throat, turns quickly on one heel, averts his gaze to the navy curtain before him. Lips clamped tightly shut, he hyper focuses on a streak of glitter in the fabric. There’s no way he’ll admit a darned thing!
“Ash,” she asks more softly now, gaze sober, “what’s going on?”
Even though it feels like her voice is trying to peel him open and unveil the truth, the moment is interrupted by the bellow he’s been dreading - er, expecting - for the past several minutes.
“And now it brings me great pleasure to present before you our first ever Alola champion trainer, Ash Ketchum!” Professor Kukui shouts, the hanging drawing suddenly open wide enough for the young boy to step through.
But he doesn’t. Or rather, with an attempt at dislodging the sudden mass forming in his throat, he staggers a few measly inches forward. But no further.
“Ash…?” Misty mutters affirmatively from somewhere just behind him, clearly frustrated by his lack of boldness. The next thing he knows, he feels a palm and fingers spread across the small of his back, and he’s lunged the rest of the way into the spotlight.
“C’mon! You’ve earned this!” Comes the follow-up declaration of sharpened fervence and - oddly - that’s all it takes to wash all the turbulent negativity and apprehension away from him.
He grins at Pikachu through tightly drawn lips before his mouth opens wide in a whoop of joy, the trophy lifted as high as his scrawny arms can carry it as he takes off running towards the professor.
He doesn’t have much time to think about where his boundless glee stems from in all the building excitement. He doesn’t have the attention span to split between his induction speech and the tingling bundle of nerves at the low center of his back where Misty had previously physically supported him. He doesn’t even have the consideration to think in the moment that it’s worth thanking her for her vote of confidence.
But instinctively, because he knows Misty as well as she clearly knows him, he’s sure she wouldn’t tell him he deserved something if she thought otherwise. That not her style, he’s certain. So if she’s backing him up here, it’s because she’s aware of his (and his Pokemons’) efforts, believes in their strength.
And honestly, there’s nothing in the world more capable of allaying his uneasiness than her telling him exactly what he needs to hear. Especially when he’s not sure what that is until she says it.
Will we ever see more fanfics from you or your main account? You are really missed. I'm reading your stories all over again, and am still hoping you haven't given up. You're doing an amazing job and I just don't want these haters winning that stupid game. You brought already so much joy to the fandom; why throwing it away because of trolls that even aren't real, but living in space, because they don't have happiness in their own life? Your talent and person really's been missed. Love u <3
So this has been sitting in the inbox for a couple of days now and I feel I owe an answer. Lately I just haven’t had much energy for writing (it’s something I’ve been struggling with for about a month or so where I’m always tired and have trouble focusing), but the biggest thing is that I haven’t had the time for it for many reasons. I’ve picked up extra shifts at my main job and started working a little side business (if you want to call driving for DoorDash/PostMates that) to make some extra money. My financial situation has taken precedence over whatever little hobby blogs I may run (and this is also why I created a venmo, cashtag, etc for the blog but nothing has come of that of course). There are other contributors to my lack of updates here but the aforementioned are most important.
As for my “main”… I’m not sure what you mean as far as trolls and etc.
Overall, I haven’t completely given up but I am feeling a little overwhelmed with and tired of everything lately and have about 5% of the free time I had when I first started this blog.
I wanted to post a quick update that I’m not giving up writing or closing the blog... I’ve just been struggling with motivation lately thanks to a bunch of different things including storms a’brewin’ in the fandom as well as monetary troubles in real life that have put me in a position of working extra hours however and whenever possible. I also have been feeling weird physically (very mentally sluggish but I don’t really know how else to explain it) so it’s harder for me to focus on a story when I get down to writing.
I promise this blog isn’t going anywhere. I hope I just need some time - maybe I’ll have a full day to myself this weekend (doubtful because $$ probs but eh) where I can just sit there and write... But until there’s a change, I simply won’t be able to crank out 4-8 stories a week like I was until I can figure everything out.
Misty asking Ash "Am I better with the tail or the loose hair?"
“Y’know, I’d kinda like to grow it out,” she muses aloud as she tightens her side-ponytail, staring at her reflection in the mirror hanging from the dining room wall.
Ash isn’t paying much attention, busying himself with scarfing down a second serving of the breakfast banquet his mom had prepared for their group upon their return from the Indigo League. Brock has decided to sleep in some, deciding he’s on an unofficial vacation from being the group’s caretaker now that Mrs. Ketchum is around to help and more than up for the task.
Misty scowls at the reflection of her traveling companion (and tentative friend), obviously upset that he’s ignoring her apparently uninteresting attempt at making conversation, twirling to face him and hands on her hips.
“Ash, did you hear me? I was talking to you, y’know?” she pushes further, taking a step forward towards the end in time with the enunciation of her second-to-last word.
The aforementioned trainer releases a bored sigh, busying himself with tearing in half an apple slice and giving one piece to Pikachu, taking the other one for himself.
“Wha’d’ya say, Misty?” he asks, giving in to her agitation. It’s still far too early in the morning for a squabble after all.
“I was saying maybe I should grow my hair out!”
The two of them stare each other down, Pikachu’s nibbling slowing until the apple slice is merely sitting wedged in his teeth, probably preparing himself to get forcibly involved if things escalate.
“Well, why’re ya tellin’ me? What do I care about your hair?”
Misty’s upper lip puckers in a pout though she doesn’t respond. It’s not really like she expects any enthusiastic input, she supposes… She was just trying to have a nice conversation for once. And maybe… some small part of her wondered what Ash thought about her.
A memory of him standing stock-still and slack-jawed comes to mind, taking place many months previous during a summer holiday festival. They hold hands, smile, and dance side-by-side for the rest of the night.
Presently, the redhead fervently shakes the affectionate recollection from her head.
“Yeah, I guess it’s dumb to talk to you about things like fashion. After all, the last thing you are is fashionable, Mr. Pokemon Master,” she finally tells him, snobbily turning up her nose with a hmph! of indignation.
“Hey, I’m plenty fashionable! My mom only buys me the coolest stuff to wear!”
“Your mom?” she replies now with a quirked brow, internally apologizing to the Ketchum matriarch who happens to be outside watering her garden at the moment.
“I - I mean…” Ash stammers, clearly at a loss after their first round and trying to rearm himself for the second one. “I mean, why would ya wanna grow out your hair? Just… fashion?” he asks with arms wide in gesture.
“Well, it’d be cute. I could do a lot more with it then, even if I still kept it up all the time,” she shrugs, dancing on the inside now that they’re having an earnest conversation. And she’d barely had to trick him into it! “Remember during the Princess Festival and my sisters’ underwater mermaid play? Accessories always look better with longer hair!”
There’s some more staring, blinking, a faint humming as the preteen boy thinks it over, his fingers absentmindedly flexing against the back of his dining chair.
Finally, somewhat insightfully, he tells her, “I dunno about excessabries or whatever you said… but wouldn’t longer hair mean more time and work too? With all our traveling around and being on the road most of the time, it seems like a bad idea to do something that’s gonna make your, uh, daily rituals as my mom calls ‘em take any longer, y’know?”
“Wow, Ash, that’s… actually a fair point. I’m impressed,” Misty replies with a hint of a smile, stepping one or two paces closer. “Well then, never mind that for now. I’ll keep it short. Maybe instead I’ll just think about wearing it down more often.”
“Huh…?” Drats, and just when he’d thought they’d finally dropped this dumb boring subject and more on to something more interesting!
“I’m still talking about my hair, you dork. Here…”
She pauses a mere foot or two away from him, reaching up and grasping the blue hair-tie she always uses, softly tugging it loose until her short red tresses fall flat around her face, just barely reaching halfway down her neck.
“Am I better with the tail or the loose hair?”
There’s a sudden, distinct wrenching in Ash’s gut that he knows better than to associate with his mom’s flawless cooking… But that of course means it must have something to do with the situation playing out before him right now… right?
He feels pleasantly sick looking at the even cut and color framing her cheeks and forehead like sunlight on a sandy beach, a perfect comparison likening her to her affinity. His tummy continues flip-flopping for the entire minute or so that she stands there, gazing at his jumbled emotions combating to see which one will show strongest on his face.
Pikachu releases an affectionate pikaa! from beside him though it’s unclear if this is in response to their tranquil moment or his independent reaction to Misty’s appearance.
The not-entirely-unfamiliar feeling of his electrical static nerves and the swarm of Butterfree fluttering to life in his stomach keep him so occupied that he can’t think of a verbal response… something Misty eventually notices.
“Pfft, Ash…” she giggles, breaking eye contact with soft rosy cheeks clashing against the red halo falling from her scalp. “Sheesh, you okay? I was just kidding…” She’s back at full height, hair-tie wrapped around the fingers on one hand while she gathers her red hair to the left side of her head and proceeds to secure it like usual.
The spell is mostly instantaneously broken, the invisible Pokemon in his abdomen bursting out and away from him, his racing pulse slowing, the buzzing of his nerves softening to a thrum.
And yet he still can’t find the words.
“I’ll only be letting my hair down on very special occasions. Y’know, like the festival at Maiden’s Peak,” she reminds him somewhat softly, perhaps intrigued by his continued enamored silence.
That’s a shame, isn’t it? a small echoing voice whispers from the back of his mind, and his eyes widen, lips clamping shut tight so such a thing can’t mistakenly be said aloud.
“Or, y’know, when I’m sleeping,” she adds in afterthought, reaching over him, grabbing an apple slice, and walking away with a shrug.
Ash finds his gaze trailing after her as he’s abandoned at the dining table, trying to come to terms with the delicate scenario he’s just escaped and the information he’s been given.
A halfhearted twist pierces his gut again, running through and up his spine as he considers the image of his redheaded friend with her lopsided grin, faintly flushed cheeks, and her soft, thin hair fanning around her face… For lack of a better definition, the unpleasant pleasantness fills him up briefly once more.
Then he sharply stamps out his thought process, unsure of why it seems so intimate and strange and knowing that he can’t possibly keep going down this road. In ten or so minutes, his world has completely shifted to a different axis, and it’s all he can do to grasp it and force it to stay the course.
Still, that soft, encouraging whisper goes on from the back of his mind, it might not be so bad to watch Misty sleep once in awhile.
If it made his insides feel good after all, sneaking the occasional peak wouldn’t hurt anyone… right?
