#inuyashaeienni

[aangsglider]

Azukka Tyzula

Mailee Maiaang

Zuaang Yuetara

Take your pick! Lol XD I couldn't stick to one apparently 🤣 and I can't think of many Tlok ships other than Asami and Korra and Mako and Korra. Oh wait! Maybe Korra and Boiln! AHHH! Jinora and Kai!! 💓🤣🤣

Kainora-

Borra-

Tyzula-

Zukaang (Zuaang)-

Maiaang-

Azukka- (not sure which ship this is)

Yuetara- (here)

Makorra- (here)

Mailee- (here)

[keichanz]

Hey Keiz!! So I just reread your gem of a story , "I knew you before I met you" and.... I just wanted to know if you ever thought of a sequel?? I was thinking of them waking up in the morning can't believing what transpired and Inuyasha waking up early and cooking her breakfast acting like he owned the place and since he kept ditching his best friends for her this would be such a great opportunity to introduce and meet her!! And Sango and Kagome would be besties and Miroku looks smugged lol

Hey you!! Hmmm...you know I never really thought bout make a sequel, but that actually does sound sorta appealing hahah. To be honest though, between all of my other WIPs I don’t know when I’d ever be able to write it x.x But I’ll definitely keep it in mind! You’ve sparked my interest and now I won’t be able to stop thinking about it all day lol. 

[pokeshippingflashfic]

Prompt: Do you like me or something?

(I admit this one actually isn’t in order. I’m having some trouble with the first prompt in line so I’m skipping it for the time being… Sorry…!)

His question comes so suddenly without pretense that you’re not equipped to handle it, neck practically snapping as you turn a sharp, steely gaze on him.

“C - come again?!” you squeak, clearing your throat to suppress your near-hysterical initial response.

“You heard me, didn’t ya? You had to!” The teenage boy’s mouth gapes slightly open at the very idea that you somehow hadn’t been able to do just that when you were both standing only three or so feet apart before he caves with an exasperated sigh and repeats the question. “Okay, Mist, listen close this time. I asked you do you like me or something?”

The sky, the trees, the gravel below your feet; all of it is unexpectedly a lot more interesting to you. Drats! You should have come up with a different response. All you’d done was present him with the opportunity to repeat himself when you should have been distracting him from the topic altogether!

Practically hyperventilating (such a skilled starlet you turned out to be in your darkest hour), you stammer in response, “I - I dunno… That’s… You’re being crazy right now, Ash, absolutely ridiculous! A - as if I would ever f - fall for - or, uh, feel that kinda… What a load of… Wh - where do you even get off? What coulda possibly made you th - think something nuts like that, huh?” you finally finish ever-so eloquently.

Still, you can’t look at him, focusing intensely on the great oak behind him, its branches swaying loftily in the breeze. You have enough consciousness left after defending against such wild accusations and distracting yourself from the reactionary mortification for an internalized berating: How red is your face…? How obvious is your nervous sweating? What in the world could have given you away after so many years holding it all together inside you?!

“Yeah,” Ash agrees almost too quickly after staring you down for a few more seconds, Pikachu mimicking his trainer’s actions from over his shoulder, “Maybe you’re right. It doesn’t make much sense, I guess. And, y’know,” a distinct pause here as he sucks in a deep breath, pushing through his next statement, “it’s not like I’d like you either!”

Oh good. Well at least now you know it and the discussion is over and you two can merrily go about your trek back to Pallet Town together without this long-standing unresolved romantic tension (- what? Where? -) mutual misunderstanding ( - yeah, that’s better! -) between you.

“Except there’s this thing… this thing that’s bothering me.”

Oh. Oh no. This is not the time for Ash Ketchum to be having a mind-melding realization. Not here in this forest with you as the sole other human being around to coax him through it!

You’re mentally panicking so badly that he carries on without you taking the chance to reel him back in.

“See, I’m trying to be, uh… there’s this thing I’m doing. I’m - what’s it called? - ah, I’m perceptive now!”

What?! Since when?! You start screeching on the inside, hands balled into fists so tight that you can feel the pinching of your nails as they dig into your palms. Who would possibly tell Ash Ketchum to start paying attention to the micro-expressions and behaviors of people around him?! Who would doom you like this?!

But you’re frozen, lips clamped shut, eyes wide in frantic terror, imperceptible trembling in your limbs before you think to still them.

Of course, you consider briefly, he could be making it all up. This could be a new way to mess with you, as he’s prone to do on occasion (and, though you’d never admit it aloud, you tend to do the same). Maybe he’s just building up to showing off some new bug-type Pokemon and he doesn’t want you expecting that yet.

“I was thinkin’ how you always act weird around certain other girls who like to get close to me.”

Oh crap.

“That’s dumb,” you scoff.

What a completely innocent and bulletproof reply. Clearly you have the upper hand in this debate. (No but seriously, how is that all you can come up with in your most dire hour…?)

“… Is it?” He appears briefly as if he’s contemplating the possibility before shrugging and continuing on. “Well, I mean, you always get real mad or something, don’t you? Sometimes you start yellin’ a lot or you physically jump in between me and whoever. And it’s always when they do something lovey-dovey.

“So anyway I figure you gotta have a reason to do all that, right?”

He refuses to vocalize the findings of the rest of his investigation until you give a half-hearted affirmative.

“R… right… I guess.”

“So at first I thought, hey, you don’t want me goin’ somewhere or havin’ any fun with girls you don’t know.”

“Yeah, that’s it, you dummy! Took you long enough to realize it!” Gotta latch on to the quickest excuse you can, right…?

“But that still doesn’t make sense. I mean, I know at least that we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Um…”

“Best friends?” he implores, doe-like eyes staring you down, waiting just long enough for your stiff nod before going on. “Right, so it’s not like you don’t want me making other friends or having fun with them even if they happen to be girls. It’s not like you hate me. And, I mean, you never minded May or Dawn or anyone, did ya? Of course not!” he ends with a hearty guffaw.

“And that’s ‘cause none of ‘em did anything mushy with me, isn’t it? That’s what I’ve been thinking anyway… So my next theory was - or really, it is ‘cause I still think it - that it’s not just about you not wanting me with those other girls,” he pauses dramatically, takes a breath, and you swear you feel the forest floor crumble out from under you, “it’s that you do want me with you, doin’ mushy lovey-dovey stuff with you.

“So yeah, that’s why I finally decided to ask you if you like me. Like love-like.”

Oh great. Now, after all that’s been said, you can’t keep yourself from looking at him! What are you supposed to do after all this? Do you deny it? What’s your excuse? More than that, what’s even the point?

A hollow feeling floods your heart. Two or three years ago when you two had gone your separate ways, you’d told yourself you knew how he felt and that you could be patient while he grew up and figured it out on his own. You didn’t want to force your feelings on him after all. Not to mention you’d had some independent growing to do as well, and running the gym had done you a lot of good since then… But still…

Your world ends with Ash Ketchum telling you he finally truly does understand your feelings… mere moments after divulging also that he can’t be bothered to reciprocate them. A significant piece of you begs the question: What’s changed in your three or so years apart… And the rest tells you to shrug off the rejection, move on, don’t bother wasting another thought.

“So now will ya tell me if I’m right?” he asks despite your tragic extended silence, and you think to slap him, push him away, punish him for putting you in this situation. Like he has the right to tell you to bear your soul after what he’s done!

Instead, you let out a long shallow breath in defeat, blinking away the burn at the corners of your eyes and folding your arms over your chest as if wrapping yourself up for comfort you’re in desperate need of.

“… Yeah, Ash. I… I’ve liked you for a long time now. I didn’t… well, I guess I’d hoped you would at some point… but I really didn’t think you’d ever figure it out really.” Leaving no opportunity for the conversation to wear on your nerves and worn heartstrings, you turn on your heel, “Now can we head back to Pallet Town?”

“Ah, wait a sec!” Ash responds, reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist. “S - so it’s really true? But then… well, I guess I’ll just say it.

“That’s cool, Mist. I romantic-like you too. Well…” he fumbles as you double-take, mouth slacking open and brows knitted in confusion, “I guess I can only say I think I do. I was thinking about it some, like, thinking of things that people might do when they like someone else like that and it… they were nice thoughts… Anyway, I’m open to trying it out with you and finding out for sure!”

“B - but you said you didn’t!”

“Didn’t… what?”

“Like me! That was only, like, five minutes ago, Mr. Pokemon Master!” you respond harshly, tugging your hand away and glaring in fury.

“Oh, that? Well,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “I was lying.”

What… what… what the heck! You think it so loudly, the start of an intense ache reverberates inside your head.

“I mean, what else was I gonna do when I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how you felt, huh?” he asks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, you couldn’t be honest with me… I thought it was only fair that I shouldn’t be honest with you either.”

[emospritelet]

Yeah, uh, That's not how Santa Claus works Emma and Neal

I took a slight liberty with the prompt and included Henry.  Hope you don’t mind.

AO3 link

“So.”  Neal took Henry’s hand, looking both ways as they crossed the road.  “That was a pretty great movie, huh?”

“I liked the songs,” Henry agreed.

He had chocolate on the side of his mouth, and Neal bent to wipe it off with a gloved thumb.  At six, Henry was still excitable enough not to notice when he missed his mouth in a darkened cinema.

“How about hot cocoa at Granny’s before I take you home?” asked Neal, and Henry grinned up at him.

“Can we get donuts, too?”

“I think your mom might have something to say about that,” said Neal.  “Dinner’s in an hour, right?”

Henry grumbled, the bobble on his hat bouncing as he walked, and Neal grinned to himself.

“Hey, and I don’t want to hear about you staying up to midnight to wait for Santa this year, okay?” he warned.  “Or waking your mom up at six in the morning.  Your toys won’t go anywhere if you wait until a decent hour to wake the house.”

“Grandpa Nolan said if I’m up at six I can help him walk Wilby,” said Henry stoutly.  “So we won’t wake Mom, I promise.”

“Good job,” said Neal, squeezing his shoulder.

“I won’t be getting any toys this year, anyhow,” said Henry, and Neal shot him a curious look.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.  “Pretty sure you’ve been mostly good this year.  Your mom would have told me otherwise.”

“Because when I wrote to Santa, I told him I didn’t want any toys,” said Henry earnestly.  “I told him I wanted you and Mom to be friends again.”

“Yeah, uh…”  Neal was at a loss for what to say.  “That’s - that’s not how Santa Claus works, buddy.”

“But I’ve been good!” protested Henry.  “He brings you what you ask for if you’ve been good, right?”

“Uh…”  Neal ran a hand through his hair.  “I think he’s more in the toy line than complex relationship issues.”

“Oh.”  Henry’s head drooped a little, and Neal put an arm around him.

“Besides, your mom and I never stopped being friends,” he added.  “Just because we don’t live together doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other.  And we both love you a lot, okay?”

“She loves stupid Killian,” said Henry despondently, kicking snow, and Neal sighed.

“Yeah, I know.”

“He’s always sitting on the couch and hogging the remote,” added Henry.  “And he smells weird.  Grandpa Gold said he never met a bottle he didn’t like.  I don’t know what that means.  Grandma Belle told him shush, though.”

Neal ran a hand over his face, trying not to laugh.

“Your mom needs someone in her life, kid,” he said.

“Why?” asked Henry.  “You don’t have anyone.”

“I got you, that’s why.”  Neal suddenly grabbed him under the arms, swinging him up in the air and making him squeal with delight.  “You’re enough for anyone.”

After the hot cocoa - Neal remained firm on the issue of donuts - they walked to the Nolan’s place, where Henry and Emma lived with her parents.  David Nolan opened the door, giving Neal a warm smile.

“Come on in,” he said.  “It’s cold out there, you want a drink?”

“Oh, I should - I should probably get going,” said Neal.  “Dad said dinner’s in half an hour.  Pretty sure Belle’s trying to make me burst out of my pants before New Year, and I’d hate to deny her the opportunity.”

“Just stay for ten minutes, Dad,” pleaded Henry, and Neal ruffled his hair.

“Okay, buddy, ten minutes.”  He glanced at David.  “Where’s Emma?”

David looked uneasy.

“She’s been in her room on a phone call for about an hour,” he said.  “Here, let me get you that drink.  Beer?”

“Thanks.”

Neal followed David through to the kitchen, holding Henry’s hands and walking with the boy balanced on his feet.  It was a little awkward, but Henry giggled, and David grinned at the sight.  The noise of a door slamming came from upstairs, and Neal looked around as Emma swept into the kitchen, tugging at the band in her hair and letting out her ponytail.  She nodded to Neal.

“Hey,” she said, and he was surprised to see her looking upset.

“Hey,” he said.  “What’s up?”

Emma sighed, and glanced at David.

“Can you tell Mom one less for dinner tomorrow?” she asked.  “I broke up with Killian.”

“I knew it!” announced Henry triumphantly, and looked at Neal.  “I told you that’s how Santa works!”

Festive fic prompts already written

[justanoutlawfic]

Why are all of these CSers trolling? They have the worst explanation and reasons to hate on Swanfire and yet they constantly complaining. Did I miss something?

I think it’s because Swanfire exists, period. That Emma loved before H00k and if Neal didn’t die, C$ wouldn’t be canon. It’s a threat to them. It’s the same with every other Emma ship, like Swan Queen.

At the end of the day, you have to use that present analogy. They got 36 presents and they want that 37th so bad.

[anthonybrxdgerton]

Why are all of these CSers trolling? They have the worst explanation and reasons to hate on Swanfire and yet they constantly complaining. Did I miss something?

Your guess is as good as mine! They got their happy ending, They got the baby they’ve always wanted, ]yet they attack Swanfire and Rumbelle shippers ALL THE TIME for no reason at all

It’s like they’re not happy with their ship or something...

[pokeshippingflashfic]

Hahah! “I'm determined to appreciate you, you can't stop me” I do appreciate you though! And you can’t stop me! ❤️

The question had been at the back of her mind for the better part of a week.

Misty Waterflower had waited literally years for Ash Ketchum to come around. Truthfully, she had wondered at times if it was better to be more proactive, and thought at others perhaps she should concede because the continuous wedges driven and distance placed between them made an ongoing relationship (platonic, romantic, specifications honestly didn’t matter) rather difficult to bear.

And yet, mysteriously, the day had come to pass when Ash finally grew up enough to recognize the uniqueness of his bond with her and… dared to ask her out.

Things had been completely and utterly perfect since that time almost a week ago; a.k.a., absolutely flawless; a.k.a., boring as heck.

So she couldn’t help wondering to herself about the transition in their relationship… but she didn’t yet dare to broach the subject with him. Don’t fix what isn’t broken, right? Wasn’t that how the saying went…?

But things… were broken, from her perspective at least.

Misty didn’t quite know how to explain the disillusionment she felt after entering into a romantic relationship with her friend, Ash Ketchum. Things were… different? The hefty weight that had been dormant at the back of her mind and bottom of her heart was finally lifted after all that time but… relationship!Ash was weird.

Misty’d always thought she’d like a dedicated, suave man to sweep her off her feet but with Ash, it was entirely unnatural and it freaked her out.

Between the gifts, the showers of praise, the overabundant assistance in managing the gym, the constant attempts at remaining in touch, the conscientious nature…

He was broken and she was discouraged from one of the few things she’d wanted for most of her adolescence… Part of her wondered if it had anything to do with that ‘honeymoon phase’ her sisters had mentioned to her a couple of times. She hoped that, if she gave Ash a couple of weeks or so he’d figure out that she didn’t want whatever this mess was that he was offering her…

However, true to his dense, bullheaded disposition, he remained completely unaware and, admittedly, it wasn’t until he offered to postpone his trip back home (where he’d be learning about the next region and league he’d be participating in) that she knew she was going to have to enforce a change in their current dynamic.

“Mwah! Agh!” Ash yelped as the redhead shoved him into the living room of her family’s loft, then leaped up and brought down all her weight to make him take a seat. “Yikes, Mist, what’s goin’ on?! Somethin’ wrong?” he groaned afterwards, tenderly rubbing his shoulders and upper back after her assault.

“Is somethi–,” Misty sputtered blasphemously in reply to this ignorant question, “Is something wrong?! Are you kidding, Mr. Pokemon Master?! I’m here to ask you that!”

“Wha’d’ya mean?”

“I mean I don’t understand what’s going on with you! You’re acting -- you’ve been acting crazy this whole week and I don’t get it!”

After her initial (not entirely helpful) confession, she was somewhat intimidated by the glint of hurt reflecting in Ash’s eyes before he averted his gaze, falling into the back cushion of her couch and sighing up at the ceiling.

“Ash, c’mon, look at me. Talk to me. I’m sorry, I’m just… trying to understand. Remember… this is new to me too,” she tried again, afraid to inflict more intimate contact on him

Arms spread wide across the back of the couch, still finding more confidence in a conversation with her first floor roof, he clamped his lips tightly shut and blew air forcefully from between them.

“I dunno how to explain it, Mist. I don’t even know why we’re here.”

“You told me you’d put your trip back home on hold! You’ve never held back when it was time to run off to a new league before! This isn’t like you, Ash, you gotta admit that at least!”

Finally he chanced a glance at her, one brow creasing while the other raised suspiciously.

“But don’t you want that? I mean… isn’t that the kinda effort someone has to give? I don’t…”

Misty stared blankly at him as he struggled, finally nodding her head softly as if to urge him further on into his explanation.

“I just thought… Look, I’m not good at this stuff. And I only… I only realized what my feelings for you were or what they meant less than a month ago. I told myself as soon as I got home and saw my mom and stuff that I’d rush to Cerulean and let you know too. And I thought that girls… that you… would expect these kinds of things from me… or from any guy, right? You’d want the whole, y’know, the whole romantic package.”

The question she’d been holding back burned and burdened, finally overpowering her fear with the will of need to know.

“Yeah, that does sound nice…” she lamented softly, then chuckled at Ash’s scandalized retaliatory expression, “… but not coming from you. Not when we’ve known each other long enough for me to see you’re faking it.

“And you know what, Ash? I’ve spent most of this past week asking myself… What do you want from this relationship? O - or do you even… want it at all?” the redheaded trainer finally had the courage to ask, though her voice cracked a couple of times. “Because you’ve changed a lot of yourself to fit some build that you think I want. And that’s not to say that I expect no change at all from you! O - of course I’d like to spend time together, just us… and of course I’d like you to call a little more often and care about what I think, what I have to say…

“And… even the compliments…” she faltered with a mildly embarrassed blush. “It’s nice to think you think highly of me… But, again, if you don’t want... if you’re just faking saying this stuff ‘cause you wanna fit some romantic archetype then…”

“Hey! Wait a sec!” the teenage boy countered emphatically, leaping upright at her latest accusation. “I spent five or so years playing blind! Five years completely dumb to what I felt about you or what you really meant! How much you actually helped when I needed it most! I’m not the kinda sap you want from a guy - a boyfriend… but my feelings are real for sure and I definitely, absolutely wanna be with you! As for our relationship, I just... wanna know that I’m yours and you’re mine!

“And for the record, Mist,” he paused, waiting for her to look him in the face before continuing, “after all that time not knowin’ how much i feel for ya… I’m determined to appreciate you now and you can’t stop me!”

Misty, feeling her face burn so hot she was sure her skin would melt off, quickly covered her flushed cheeks with her hands, sniffling to hold back what felt like a stray tear or two.

“Wai - hey, what’s up with you?” her boyfriend asked her, completely baffled after his own proud declaration of adoration.

“I… that’s just…” And the redhead lightly kicked him in the leg with one of her feet to offset some of the unbridled joy she was feeling, apologizing internally at his hiss of pain, “… that was just the most romantic thing you could ever say to me, you dummy.”

[pokeshippingflashfic]

"What? you know you love me"

He says it a lot, like he’s trying to trap her.

Ever since Ash and Misty started dating, it’s been one of his go-to lines. Maybe because he thinks it’ll make her go softer on him after he does something stupid and reckless and she blows her top over it. Maybe because it’s just in his nature to flirt that way, since the relationship is still a bit new and he’s not articulate or mature enough to apologize and say the “L” word in a serious tone of voice. Or maybe it’s because he knows she truly does but, for whatever reason, Misty has refused to say so herself.

She knows he’s trying to trap her so she remains constantly vigilant to his dopey grin turning up one corner of his mouth and that coy wink he throws her way just before she takes the opportunity to blush and avert her gaze.

“In your dreams, Mr. Pokemon Master,” she scoffs with a roll of the eyes, sometimes going so far as to turn her nose up at him, hoping he’ll second guess that confidence.

“Not enough to let you get away with that!” she may screech, alluding to whatever previous stupid stunt he’s just finished pulling.

“Dunno what makes you think…” she starts excusing herself on dozens of occasions when the other criteria doesn’t fit.

Times when he hasn’t just put his life on the line because why waste time thinking a plan through, or times when they haven’t just belted out nostalgic insults - scrawny, childish, whiny, loud mouth, stubborn, dense, brat, bike wrecker! - and finished with breath expelling shortly from their lungs and fulfilled grins twisting at their puckered lips and flushed faces.

Times when they’re just sitting at the PokeCenter waiting for their Pokemon to be checked out and returned to them and he happens to lean against her shoulder and ease his eyes closed, snorting lightly as if he could actually fall asleep so fast and she grimaces, nudging him off of her once or twice, but usually giving up after that and letting him stay put.

“What? You know you love me, Mist.”

Times when they’re out on the road and she witnesses a creepy crawly scurrying out of the corner of her eye and automatically latches onto him, linking her hand with his and yanking to get him to stay close. He calls her a fraidy-Meowth but doesn’t withdraw from her touch or intimacy.

“See? I told you that you love me.”

She wonders where he gets his confidence. Sure, they’re dating, they’re together, it’s been such a long time coming… but that doesn’t mean there’s love. People date all the time due to liking someone, or being curious, or some other natural transition.

She wonders where this boy young man has come from, what happened to the stunted and immature kid who thought nothing was more important than Pokemon and romantic relationships were entirely unnecessary?

She wonders why she can’t grow up some too, grow out of this stubborn, scared age where she likes him, definitely, loves him, probably, but can’t find that confidence he boasts so clearly within herself to confess such a thing aloud.

She fears he’s trying to trap her, take her secrets and make them his. 

As if he doesn’t own enough of her spirit already.

As if she’d let him take such utter possession of her heart when he kept her waiting so many years before coming around on his own.

She fears he knows her too well after all this time, that she doesn’t have to even say it for him to already be so sure of how she feels about him.

She fears she has no reason to be concerned (which concerns her all the more) if he already knows her so frankly inside and out.

She fears he may grow tired if she keeps him waiting because Ash Ketchum has always been rather impatient about all things… but perhaps it’s insensitive of her to think so little of him.

The last thing she should do is underestimate him, she knows after so many years.

And still, a small voice begins to echo in the back of her mind that he probably wouldn’t coax her into admitting she loves him on so many occasions if he didn’t reciprocate that feeling.

A familiar burgeoning begins to quake from within her as the thought crosses her.

Until finally, a time comes when the two of them are sitting on the outskirts of the woods by a lake after stopping for a break during their travels. He scarfs down a couple of sandwiches, some side salad, half a gallon of iced tea in such a short span of time that she almost loses her appetite, and then he strips down to his swim trunks and runs to hop in the water.

She yells after him like she always does that he should wait it out a bit, let the food digest, but of course he ignores her. He usually does when he chalks up her concern to pointless nagging.

Only this time someone out there has decided that Ash Ketchum is going to learn his lesson.

Pikachu is hopping in after him, mouse-paddling in his trainer’s direction as Ash hollers and dives away. Waves and ripples, minutes and fading sunlight, all pass them by in fractions.

Misty is just bored enough to think she’ll finally join her friends in the water, rolls to her feet and pulls her tank top up over her head, her shorts falling down to her ankles, swimsuit revealed underneath when there’s a yelp from a couple hundred feet before her.

The light dancing off the surface of the water is displaced by the silhouette of her boyfriend vanishing all in one moment from her view.

“Pikachu, Pikapi!” the electric mouse Pokemon squeaks from afar before he goes too.

“Ash…?” she whispers, pausing for a moment, cautiously taking a step forward, then another, until her toes make contact with the somewhat brisk and temperate sea foam.

He doesn’t reappear but Pikachu does, tail up in the air like a beacon before he flips upright and starts squealing as loud as he can for her attention.

“Pi… kachupi! Pikachupi, Pikapi kachu pika!”

This isn’t the first time the sea has come for Ash Ketchum, though thankfully she’s always been around to prevent a grizzly fate.

Braving the temperature shift, she leaps forward, steep strides carrying her up to mid-torso before she takes a deep breath and dives under an incoming wave, wiry limbs and professional training and many years of experience carrying her in the direction of where Ash had most recently been.

The water is gritty, murky, burns her eyes before she thinks better of it and closes them, blindly traversing as straight as possible until having to come up for air, glancing around to see how far she’s traveled from land and retreating once more underneath the green-gray sea.

Pikachu is doing his best to pull a clearly struggling Ash back up but the teenage boy is balled up and appears in pain, is unable to straighten and push himself back up towards the surface. He’s hacking out spare oxygen, breathing in salt water, choking to death on her element when she finally loops arms with him and pulls him up.

Her heart is hammering away for the following ten minutes. He’s still conscious and gasps immediately for fresh air when he meets it, coughing and spewing up a storm as she assists him to shore, situating behind him and tugging him more completely back onto land, where he immediately curls back into a ball amid continuous wheezing, Pikachu at his side.

She’s furious at his latest reckless action, fire and ice combating for control of her nerves. She knows it’s not the time to berate him, she still wants answers, maybe he’s finally learned something (though probably not). All of these thoughts swirl around her head enough to make her dizzy yet she still rests beside him until his breathing regulates.

“What happened?”

“There was… a deep trench. I slipped forward on it and cramped a muscle. I couldn’t catch myself fast enough.” A brief pause before he finishes, “Sorry, Mist.” Then he goes back to hissing, hands massaging his right calf.

How dense he is, she thinks. How stupidly reckless. He should know better. How many times must she tell him?

Her rage is evident on her face when he chances a glance in her direction a minute later, surprised she hasn’t started reprimanding him.

“Awe, c’mon, Mist,” he coaxes with a wince (which she takes a sadistic solace in), “you know you love me.”

And no matter how she thinks she shouldn’t, she knows he’s right. So she bites her tongue (and the knee-jerk reaction to tell him off) and gives in.

“Yeah, I guess I do, you dummy,” before she presses a light kiss to his sopping forehead, pleased with the fact that his cheeks are as bright as the distant sunset when she pulls just far enough away to see them, his mouth slightly agape.

Her trap is laid bare and he’s been ensnared by her confession… to which Misty can only think that it’s been a long time coming.