pokeshipping

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pokeshipping on disney channel

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kis

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Pokeshiping as the kagamines in love and hate <3

How do we feel about the glowy bits in the background?

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kiss

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please appreciate misty in this tentacool hoodie

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“What is that?”

Ash frowns down at the cookie sheet, the little blob of sugar cookie dough smiling up at him, mockingly. “It’s a pikachu!” he cries, offended.

Misty snorts. “That’s a pikachu?” She turns to Pikachu, who is sitting in her shoulder and staring at the cookie quizzically, and shakes her head. “I’m so sorry your partner has such a low opinion of you, sweetie. I promise you look nothing like that.”

“Pika…”

“It looks fine!” he insists, feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment at the teasing and insults to his (lack of) artistic talent. “It’s better than whatever that is!”

Misty gasps, pulling her cookie sheet closer to her protectively. “Don’t you dare insult my staryu!”

“Staryu?” he baulks. “I thought it was a pincurchin!”

“What?! It’s clearly a staryu!”

“Why wouldn’t you just use the star cookie cutter?!” he asks through his laughter. “It’s literally the shape of a staryu!”

Misty opens her mouth to argue, but closes it almost immediately her eyes wide. “Oh shoot, I didn’t even think of that,” she admits sheepishly.

They share a look and burst into laughter together, their horribly-shaped cookies momentarily forgotten.

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An Ash/Misty fic. 4k words. G-rated.

Ash makes a plan to propose to Misty. Things don't exactly work out the way he expected.

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It was snowing in Pallet on Christmas Eve, because of course it was.

Pallet Town, the perfect little romantic backdrop to Misty’s entirely unromantic holiday season, was being lovingly dusted in a fluffy blanket of white while the Christmas lights glowed warmly in the windows and the log crackled in the fire, while Misty was bundled up in a warm sweater, drinking hot chocolate, and smelling Mrs. Ketchum’s famous sugar cookies baking in the oven, just as painfully single as she had always been.

Bah-humbug.

“Any progress?” Brock asked, his reflection looking amused and—ugh, pitying, in the window.

“Does it look like there’s been any progress?” she snapped, probably a bit too harshly, in response, but Brock knew her well enough after all these years to not take offense, and plopped himself down next to her.

“It looks like Ash is outside having fun with his pokemon in the snow, and you are inside sulking about it.”

Misty glared at the scene outside, Ash laughing jovially as Pikachu and Bayleef teamed up with Gengar and Snivy to pelt him with snowballs. It was adorable. “I’m just watching in case he slips on some ice and falls on his ass,” she told him dryly. “Figured that might cheer me up.”

Brock snorted, but threw a comforting arm around her shoulders. He was warm and safe and she allowed herself to lean against him. “He’ll come around someday,” he said, trying to seem optimistic.

Misty had been telling herself that Ash would ‘come around’ for years. Every Christmas, every failed attempt to get him under the mistletoe, or give him a heartfelt present, or brush her pinky against his hand while hanging ornaments, all led to exactly this: Misty, alone, admiring Ash from afar.

Psyduck, all bundled up in a hat and scarf and little webbed foot-shaped booties Daisy had gotten for him after the time he managed to lock himself out of the gym in the dead of winter like the dense little duck he was, had waddled outside to join the party, Pikachu welcoming him with what looked like a very enthusiastic “Pika!”

Ash beamed at him as well, seeming to greet him excitedly, and then immediately looked around hopefully, like he expected someone else to be out there with him.

Next to her, Brock smirked and nudged her with his elbow. “I think he’s looking for you.”

“Oh please,” Misty sniffed. “He’s probably just wondering how Psyduck got outside.” Which was a good question, actually. Delia probably let him out, or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.

Ash frowned, turning back to Psyduck and asking him something. In response, Psyduck turned his head over to the window and pointed one of his pudgy little wings, directing Ash’s attention over to her and Brock in the window. A little, mischievous smirk began to take form on Ash’s lips, and he bent down to start gathering up some snow into his fist.

“What’s he up to?” Brock mused, just as a flying snow ball smashed into the window with a loud, dramatic ‘smack!’ scaring the ever-loving shit out of Misty, who yelped and nearly fell out of the chair. Back out in the yard, Ash was rolling with laughter.

“That asshole!” she cried, stomping over to the door and yanking her coat off the coatrack. She smashed her feet into her boots and threw open the door, pointing dramatically at Ash while simultaneously pulling on her mittens. “You think you’re funny, Ketchum?!” she yelled, marching out the door and slamming it behind her.

The slam of the door knocked the snowball stuck on the window back to the ground, just in time to see Misty pelting Ash relentlessly with snow, as he laughed and threw snow right back, looking as if all his wishes had come true.

Brock smiled. It was looking like Misty was making more progress than she realized.

Good for them.

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Misty Mermaid

You will be dearly missed Rachael Lillis 🖤

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Ash, Misty, Alola!

According to a dear friend, this drawing is probably my Magnum Opus.

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“Not a word.”

Misty mimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key, her eyes filling with what Ash could only describe as pure, unadulterated, sadistic joy as she watched him dance (extremely poorly) around the Ketchum’s living room, awkwardly holding hands with his mother.

Pikachu hopped up from his spot on the couch to sit on her shoulder and giggle along with her, as his mom gave his hand a quick squeeze to remind him to focus as he glared at the pair of them. Traitors.

“Watch what you’re doing, Ash,” his mom told him, softly kicking at his foot to get it back into place.

Ash felt his cheeks flush as Misty and Pikachu giggled, so he quickly dragged his foot where it belonged.

A World Coronation Ball made sense when the World Monarch was someone cool and classy and, well, grown up, like Leon. But to expect Ash, who still preferred the crusts cut off his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and who stayed up too late at night playing online video games with his friends, to dress up in fancy clothes, sip (non-alcoholic, his mom insisted) champagne, and waltz, was only asking for trouble.

They fumbled around for a few more minutes, until his mom finally sighed, scrunching her nose up in annoyance. “You know…” she mused in that way Ash knew was going to end up badly for him, “I’m not sure I can help you with this dance; I’m too tall. You need to practice with someone closer to Iris’ height.”

The big-wig League heads decided Ash and Iris would be dancing with each other during the Monarch Celebration Waltz, since they were the two youngest members of the Masters Eight, and were already friends. Apparently the fans would love it.

Since Ash and Iris were both pretty uninterested in the whole stuffy-clothes-and-fancy-dancing thing, they agreed to do it. It turned out misery does, indeed, love company, and at least they had each other.

Ash’s mom pursed her lips, her eyes scanning the room like there wasn’t only one other person in there besides Ash and herself, and brightened the moment her gaze landed on Misty. “Misty, sweetie,” she practically sang, “you should dance with Ash instead.”

“What?” she squeaked, but Delia was already behind her, guiding her over to Ash by her shoulders, grinning, as Pikachu hopped into Ash’s mom’s arms.

“I know, you’re still quite a bit taller than Iris, but you’re closer than me, at least,” his mom said with an apologetic smile. “You don’t mind, do you? It’ll just be until he gets the hang of it.”

Misty bit her lip, looking between Mrs. Ketchum and Ash, her face ever so slightly flushed. “I—I guess not…” she stuttered, and that was all it took for Ash’s mom to all but shove them together with grin.

Misty’s hands were soft, in a way Ash somehow never expected in the rare occasion when they held hands, and it made his stomach flip a little.

Holding Misty’s hand always made him feel a little funny; not bad, necessarily, but distracted and a little nervous, like he forgot how to function in his own body. He knew it was probably nothing, but it was one of the reasons he was glad he was dancing with Iris instead of her in front of all those people, he didn’t need any other additional things to make him mess this all up beyond just being himself.

He knew his own hands were sweaty and clammy, so he offered Misty a tiny smile and shrug in apology, which, for some reason, just made her face flush brighter. He tried to look her in the eyes, like Ash’s mom had instructed him to do, but it seemed like she was looking everywhere but back at him, which was annoying, but he guessed his mom was just going to be a stickler about his dancing, not Misty’s.

Over by the speaker, his mom sent them both a weird little smirk, and pressed play on the RotomPhone.

Hand in hand, they began to sway.

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Ash: Am I in trouble?

Misty: Take a guess.

Ash: No?

Misty: Take another guess

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Ash: Okay, help me please!

Misty: Got two words for you.

Ash: I bet they won't be helpful.

Misty: Your problem.

Ash: I was right

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I found out that I didn’t post it on DA, so combined and a bit modified the pictures. Originally they’ve done for Pokeshipping Week 2019. I hope you don’t mind I repost it here as well))

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Misty: Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Ash and I are dating.

Ash, May, Brock, and Dawn: *gasp*

Misty: Ash, why are you surprised?

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Ash, during season 1: Don't take this the wrong way, but I feel like you've become a lot more fun since I've known you.

Misty: Thanks! And if I may return the compliment, I think you've become marginally less annoying.

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Ash: We can make this work! We're Romeo and Juliet!

Misty: It didn't work for Romeo and Juliet. That play ends in a tragic double suicide.

Ash: That's how it ends? Why do people like it so much?