#he’s an attention deprived cornball

[jelanisaeed]

Ocean Shipping – First Impressions

First impressions—more like permanent introductions. A bitter battle against anxiety Turquoise learned to loathe. A shame, he supposed. Years should’ve honed his instincts. Granted him that legendary sixth sense Mama spoke of. Yet it evaded him. And anxiety ran its wicked blade through his chest.

I needa stronger armor, he sighed. Upgrade the lazy chainmail for the heavy warmth of silver. Maybe paint it blue. Specks of purple couldn’t hurt either.

Anything to liven the mood. And the atmosphere of his room. It wasn’t healthy sitting in dark at his desk, but it brought a semblance of peace. Well, ignoring the clothes and books slung across the place. Sadness and messiness fell in line together.

The soft orange of the desk lamp set a nice mood. And the perfect time to fix his bedhead. He should’ve never gone so many days without a durag. But…maybe it was for best. A nice wash eased away so much tension. And now he could twist his hair in peace. Who knows? Maybe he’d finally finish the homework due Monday.

(Turquoise-sama,) Ina began with soft steps forwards. She smiled at him with sparkling eyes, levitating a few pieces of clothes with her psychic powers. (Do you mind if I…?)

Unsurprising. Indeedee made great caretakers. The perfect partners for all inspiring breeders and teachers.  

“Aye,” Turquoise nodded. “If it’s no trouble.”

Ina squealed and went to work. Amazing how pokémon rarely had poor first impressions of him. Though he had Lady Mesprit to thank. The Gift of Empathy granted him a closer connection to pokémon than people. Yet Lady Mesprit expected him to utilize his powers to guide others into living their truths. What does that even mean?

Am I supposed to be a detective or something?  Turquoise sighed, finished off his fifth twist. Not gonna lie, that would be lit. Who wouldn’t wanna be a detective? Or just like Pokédex Holder Black and his musharna?

Still, making friends and building relationships should’ve been easier. With his abilities, even the coldest of hearts melted in his presence. It never failed! Besides, Jasper and Ammolite became his best friends in months! And Paxton—

Oh…right, a deep ache rattled his chest. Must be that sword. And the harsher the ache, the more its wielder revealed itself. Until a familiar face sneered at him. Paxton.

First loves always made a lasting impression. Even if their first impression sucked. Not a day went by where he didn’t feel the lingering anger of their meeting. Of how easily Motha wiped the floor with Kiri. Even their future spars never erased that mark. A petty grudge, part of him snarled. Still, that day scared their relationship. And he was a fool to ignore it.

Foolish. Turquoise chuckled, but no humor came to mind. Nor did joy bubble beneath his hazelnut skin until it eased through his pores. Must be the dryness. He’s been so ashy lately. Not to mention the limpness in his coils before the wash. He always heard tales of the disastrous effects of heartbreak. Even seen it firsthand. Yet he never imagined he’d fall victim too.

Might as well add arrogant to the list too.

The last twist finished, and every semblance of peace faded with the completion. Only the drowning loneliness of a dark room. Perhaps homework wasn’t a bad idea. Or he could finally give him team the attention he deprived them all. …Nah, Motha and Empola probably weren’t happy with him. Only Ina wouldn’t pry even if her concern burned through her senses. She’d focus on her tasks and find an opening when she could. She’s clever that way.

Oh, and of course there’s— (Tur-Tur,) Miso drifted down with a sly smile. (How are you feeling?)

Not all pokémon had great first impressions with him. Ina practically threw herself into his arms when they met. But Miso…well, he got a kick out of scaring him. Somedays Turquoise wasn’t sure why the misdreavus stuck around. Did he love scaring him? Or did he care? Answers Miso never gave. And his empathy didn’t help much. Ghost-types always rattled his powers.

“Cruddy,” nonetheless, he pulled Miso into a tight hug. Ghost or not, Miso gave the best hugs. Always so squishy. And—Turquoise giggled, pulling the ghost closer—nuzzled him the best. “But thanks for caring.”

Miso giggled and phased out of his arm. (Of course, silly Tur-Tur!) And all his negative emotions drained out of his skin in vibrant red trails. Sucked right into Miso’s glowing necklace. Everyone knew misdreavus thrived off fear. But maybe they ate all kinds of negative emotions too. (We’re all here for you~!)

Miso had a point there. Still— (Excuse me, Turquoise-sama.) Ina began, folding the last of clothes in a neat pile. (It appears you have a visitor.)

And a brisk orange light erupted behind. “Turquoise?” The voice questioned. Ina had always left to greet him as she always did. But Turquoise couldn’t bring himself to turn. Not now…he wasn’t really for conversation. Especially the kind this one brought with him. Somehow it never failed at swirling up his emotions.

“Tur, I—” a slew of curses snapped out his lips as a slight thud echoed through the room. “I heard what happened.”

He knows. The words echoed through his mind as his blood ran cold. But how? He never told—oh…Jasper. Figures, Jasper never kept these kinds of secrets to himself. Not when he devised a plan to help.

Although, Turquoise failed to see how Navy of all people would help him.

“…You good?”

Turquoise sighed. How eloquent. Yet, he expected no less from the swimmer. Even now he came dressed in only a towel around his neck, a pair of manaphy-themed trunks, and slides. Fresh from a swim too. Water rolled down his toned, ebony body.

They made eye contact for a few moments before Turquoise looked away. Those deep brown eyes always managed to trap him. Even now their waves of worry pulled him under.

“Not really,” he mumbled. This had to be Jasper’s worst plan ever. Navy and an emotional situation? Talk about a finneon out of water. “But I’ma be fine—promise.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Turquoise felt the heated scowl as Navy stalked closer. And those hands fell on his shoulders. Sky blue met deep brown and a comfortable silence fell between them. Never failed. All Navy needed was one touch to steal his senses. “You can lie to everyone else. But don’t lie to me.”

Fair enough. Turquoise wasn’t a good liar anyway. “I guess,” he mumbled, lowering his head. Still, lying made it easier. At least in lies, he didn’t have to face reality. “Sorry.”

“Wait what?” Navy flinched and reeled back. “You apologized? What—you never—” Navy paused and inhaled. Emotions ran rampant in that mind of his. But Turquoise didn’t dare peer inside. Not this time. “Hey, Tur? Please talk to me. We’re friends, right?”

“Why wouldja wanna be friends with me?” Friends…what a concept he didn’t deserve. “I just ruin everything.”

“Tur…that’s not true.” Maybe. Maybe Navy had a point, but he couldn’t be a great person. Great people aren’t tossed out of a relationship. They leave amicability—right? Wasn’t that how it goes? Yet here he sat alone while Paxton finally gained the peace he craved. It’s unfair, but…maybe he did deserve it.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Navy began with a smile. And his grip on Tur’s shoulder tightened slightly. Comfortably so. “Can you stand up?”

Turquoise raised an eyebrow. Of course, he could stand. Why wouldn’t—actually, no. The inner workings of Navy’s mind scared even the most sensible of people. Plus, there’s no telling how Jasper portrayed the situation. So, with a sigh, he stood. Might as well get it over with—

Huh? Navy hugged him. And not one of those clumsy, awkward hugs Turquoise forced himself to normalize. A real one with strong arms wrapped around his back. Pressed against a wet chest, but it only dampened his pajamas—no biggie. Still, it has been a while since he got a real hug from Navy. Or…any forms of intimacy from the swimmer, honestly.

It’s nice, he smiled and returned the hug. I’ve missed this.

“You’re amazing, Tur,” he whispered, tickling Tur’s neck with his breath. “Don’t let that jerk make you forget that.”

…Maybe Navy was better at this then he thought. Well, then anyone thought really. Everyone had mixed first impressions of Navy. And Turquoise was no different. Though, he hadn’t heard any stories as embarrassing as his. Honestly, he couldn’t believe they became friends afterwards. It was…unlike anything he ever experienced before.

Then again, Navy’s unique like that.

They met in a head-on collision, ending up sprawled across the floor. And with a throbbing skull, Turquoise found himself laid out on Navy’s perpetually wet chest.

Awkward. Just…awkward. Thick tension hungover as they stared at each other. Lips only inches apart. To this day, Turquoise recalled the raging blush like it was yesterday as he stammered for an apology. But he didn’t need to.

Navy had already kissed him.

A short kiss. But Navy pulled away with such a dopey smile. “Yo,” he began in a smooth baritone. “I’m Navy.” Eep! Turquoise flinched as hands fell on his hips. “You gon kiss back?”

Bold. Yet not as horrid as he thought. Especially the heated passion or kisses that followed. Or the friendship they built. Who’d a thought? Navy—the swimmer deviant—and Turquoise—the silly empath.

“Besides,” Navy pulled away with a beaming smile. “You’re too cute to ruin anything.”

Cornball, Turquoise chuckled. Yet in soft, desk lamp lighting, his spirit smiled. For the first time in times. Maybe corn was good for the body?

“Thanks, Navy,” Turquoise began, allowing the smile to bloom across his face. And his joyous spirit filled his body. “Thanks for being…you.”

Navy laughed. Yet, Turquoise swore he saw a faint blush burning across that face. “Hey, don’t mention it,” he folded his arms behind his head and grinned. A Navy Signature. “We’re friends! Well…unless—”

Turquoise chuckled. Ina finally finished her cleaning and Miso left for a nap. That left them alone with a fresh clean room. The perfect temptation for Navy. Still, …he had other things in mind.

“We’re friends, Nav. Until time changes things.” Navy sighed in relief. He’s so adorable when he worries.

“Bet. Well, you probably don’t wanna go outside just yet,” understatement of the year, Turquoise sighed, “And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

First impressions weren’t everything. And they would’ve made him miss out on the great person Navy was.

“Stay the night?”

[icanhearyouglaring]

when im with you, i have fun

summary: there’s something super about him, something that has absolutely nothing to do with superpowers, and she’d tell everyone exactly what it was if she didn’t want all of its wonders to herself [spitfire + cuddles] a/n: if u like, plz reblog with your comments in the tags!!! i would love that!!!!

The keys to the apartment slip out of Artemis’s fingers as soon as she pulls them out of her jacket pocket.

“Perfect,” she mutters to herself, swooping down to pick the keys up off the wet landing.

After one of the longest, most mind-numbing finals of her life, all she wants to do is get out of the freezing, pouring rain and into the leftover stir-fry that awaits her in the refrigerator to celebrate the end of the semester. Artemis unlocks the finicky door on the first try and when it doesn’t creak loudly as she pushes it open, she momentarily wonders if her food-deprived brain brought her to the wrong door.

But, no, it is the right door. Instead of immediately stripping off her soaking jacket and making a beeline for the kitchen, Artemis quietly closes the door, rests her back against it, and lingers, taking in the sight that greets her in the living room.

Wally, lounging across the entirety of the couch wrapped up in the maroon, velvet blanket they just stress-purchased over the weekend, lazily pets a sleeping Brucely with one hand and turns the pages of the notebook in his lap with the other. His head bobs along with the music that blares beyond the confines of the headphones over his ears. He hums along, off-key and ill-timed, but close enough that Artemis can recognize the song and appreciate the attempt.

She stays by the door, dripping water on the once-clean floor, desperately wanting to pull out her phone and record the cozy scene, but unwilling to chance making a sound and ending it. Wally gets more into the song, tapping his hand against his notebook with the beat. When he aims for the high note, Artemis can’t stop the giggle that bubbles up in her throat. Brucely’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor where he’d been drooling, and he bumps Wally’s idle hand away, catching his attention. Wally cranes his neck back to follow his dog’s vision all the way to her.

“Hey, babe,” he says, quickly taking off his headphones and placing them on the side of the couch. The music doesn’t stop.

“Hey,” Artemis replies, finally slipping out of her jacket and hanging it and her bag on a hook near the door.

She kicks off her shoes and walks over to where Brucely patiently waits for her to pet him, because there was no way he was going to come to her, not with his favorite parent still patting his head (Artemis has come to begrudgingly accept her place as second favorite, but this is not to say that she has given up trying to overthrow the existing order). She sits on the floor next to the couch and rubs the top of Brucely’s head. A small sigh slips past her lips as she forces her tense shoulders to relax.

“How long were you standing there?” Wally asks, shutting his notebook and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Just a few minutes.”

He turns on the couch to face her fully and quips, “And you didn’t say anything? Pervert.”

“You wish,” she laughs, before leaning in to press a quick, light kiss against his forehead. “So, you fixed the door?”

“Oh, yeah, I think so, but I’m not totally sure how,” Wally chuckles, trailing his knuckles over Brucely’s back. The dog revels in all the attention he’s getting. “I came back from that sham of a review session and kinda-sorta fought with it more than usual. Something clicked, and boom, no more squeaks.”

Artemis snorts, impressed and a little suspicious. “You must have a gift. Counting the toaster and the shower, that’s the third thing you’ve accidentally fixed this week.”

“So that’s why you keep me around,” Wally says with an air of indignant realization, before he moves his hand from Brucely’s back to Artemis’s knee and smiles. “Well, that and that other thing.”

“Other thing? Who’s the pervert now?” Artemis teases, placing her hand over his.

Wally laughs. “Still you. I was referring to your infinite store of love for me. You were thinking dirty thoughts. I can see it in your eyes.”

Brucely takes this opportunity to stick his nose between Wally’s hand and Artemis’s jeans. Artemis rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be jealous. There’s plenty of me to go around,” Wally says, scratching behind Brucely’s ears.

Artemis isn’t so sure he’s talking to the dog.

“You spoil him,” she says for the thousandth time.

“Who else is going to?” Wally glances at her expression and shifts gears. “How was your last final?”

The post-test uneasiness she’d left at the door returns.

“Long. Longer than I thought it’d be. I left a piece of me behind in that lecture hall,” she says, half-serious. “It’s still taking the test.”

“Ouch,” Wally winces and takes her hand, much to the annoyance of their dog-child, who sinks against the floor in protest.

Artemis starts to stand up, but Wally tugs her hand and shakes his head.

“Come here. You need a hug.”

I need that stir-fry, Artemis thinks, picturing the bowl waiting for her near the back of the fridge, but she still carefully steps over Brucely to join Wally on the couch. A hug would also be nice. She lays down beside him and he scoots as far back into the couch as he can and they move around until they find a comfortable position, her slightly on top of him and their legs tangled underneath the blanket.

Artemis sighs slowly as Wally wraps one arm around her and starts fiddling with a lock of her loose, still slightly damp hair with his other hand. With all the hustle and bustle of finals and studying and trying to fit sleep somewhere between those two things, it’s been hard to find a moment of peace with each other.

“Just one more test, babe,” Wally says, exhaustion hanging off every word.

“Are you ready for it?”

Wally laughs. “As ready as I’m going to be.”

“That’s the spirit,” Artemis says, only half-kidding because this far in the game, you either know it or you don’t.

“Before I forget, Mom called today,” Wally says slowly, practically begging her to ask–

“Yours or mine?”

“Ours,” Wally says, jokingly scandalized. “Okay, mine. She wanted to know if we’d come over next weekend for dinner and the tree lighting ceremony down at the Flash museum.”

“You told her yes, right? We always go.”

“About that,” Wally drawls, in the way that warns Artemis he’s been up to something. “I was thinking we could drive out there this year, instead of zeta-ing. Take turns driving, see the sights. We didn’t have time to plan a real vacation for this break, so why not work it into the usual schedule?”

Artemis ponders over the idea for a moment before wincing. “Do you remember our last roadtrip?”

“Oh, I can’t forget it,” he says matter-of-factly. “No matter how much I wish I could. But that just means this one can only be better.”

“Hmm, you’re going to have to sell it to me.” Artemis jokes, before seriously asking, “Where would we even go?”

Wally starts waxing poetic about the value of visiting dinosaur museums and Yellowstone and baseball stadiums and Artemis nods in all the right places and pretends to be undecided, even though he had her at ‘about that’. She lets him go on and on and on, because she loves him, and this, and their life together.

There’s something super about him, something that has absolutely nothing to do with superpowers, and she’d tell everyone exactly what it was if she didn’t want all of its wonders to herself (and Brucely, sometimes).

He has the ability to flip her mood like it’s a goddamn lightswitch (in a good way, most of the time). She’ll be feeling ten types of upset over trivial and important things and then he’ll say something like–

“I guess it doesn’t really matter where, as long as I’m with you.”

–and it’s like all those other things cease to exist, for a moment at least. It really is his gift: inadvertently making things better, just by being himself.

“You’re a cornball,” Artemis says, smiling as she moves to straddle him on the couch.

Wally tilts his head and smiles up at her. “You smell like rain.”

“And you smell like dog–” Artemis says truthfully, wrinkling her nose and leaning down to kiss him anyways.

Brucely barks jealously and they break apart to give the dog matching exasperated looks, but before they can resume their activities, Artemis tastes a familiar tang on the corner of her lip and gasps. She sweeps her tongue over it again, just to be sure. Her eyes flit from Wally’s confused face to the empty bowl sitting on the coffee table. How had she missed it?

“Oh my god,” Artemis sits up on his lap. “You ate my stir-fry? I called dibs.”

Wally blanches. “You did? When?”

“When I put it away.”

Wally cringes. “That’s when I was taking B outside. I am so sorry.”

Artemis releases a short breath, resigned, hungry, and in a forgiving mood (because who could stay mad after all that).

“It’s okay. We still have everything, so I can make another batch tonight.”

That’s when the doorbell rings, startling everyone but Brucely, who has a knack for ignoring everyone but Wally whenever he’s in the room. Artemis untangles her foot from the blanket and rises from the couch.

“Surprise,” Wally says, rushing to get up and grab his wallet from under the coffee table. “I ordered Paola’s to celebrate surviving another semester.”

“You didn’t.” Artemis grins, thinking “Fuck the stir-fry”.

“I did,” he nods, and Brucely dutifully pads along behind his favorite parent as he goes to answer the door.

“Hey,” Artemis calls for Wally’s attention just before he can open the door, “you’re the best, in case you didn’t already know.”

“Love you, too.”

As he makes small talk with the obviously uninterested delivery man, Artemis muses that yes, she’ll keep this all to herself (and the dog) for as long as she can.