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pettyvxbes · 3 years

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Colson Baker x Reader - Ocean Eyes I

Worms are Gross & Mornings are Stupid

The human brain is incredibly complex; millions of neurons are strategically placed in an organized manner for the organ to function correctly. Everything we are and everything we will ever be is dependent on our brain's ability to store memories. Memories shape our perception and reality. They can be etched in our mind, crossing our thoughts frequently, or they can be elusive and hazy, only returning when we least expect them to. It's peculiar the way memories are triggered by our senses. The way that a distinct smell or taste can make memories come flooding back without warning. . . Or how sometimes all it takes is one song to take us back to a specific time or place.

The pavement was wet from the early morning rain as you slowly made your way through the horde of people cramming Shaker Square. It was only 7am, but the marketplace was packed. You observed the large puddles scattering the street, thankful that you had grabbed your rain boots before leaving for the Buckeye State.

It had been exactly four years and three months since you last walked through the streets of his hometown. You avoided Cleveland like the plague, but unfortunately, your brother-in-law was being relocated by his employer. You knew your prolonged absence from the 216 would be coming to an end.

You took comfort in the fact that Colson now lived in Los Angeles, knowing there would be zero chance of seeing him in the flesh. You only had to deal with encountering the places you use to visit together, and you were prepared, or so you thought.

Stands with fresh fruit, veggies, meats, honey, and baked goods lined the quad. The North Union farmers market was your favorite Saturday morning adventure with Colson. Even on the mornings that required you to drag his sleepy butt out of bed. A sad smile found its way to your lips as you recalled waking up in his arms.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey." You said, turning over to face the tall blonde boy lying next to you. He reached out, grabbing you and pulling you into him tightly. The tired grunts and grumbles coming from his lips made you smile. How could someone be so adorable so early in the morning.

"It's too early. Let's stay in bed." Colson pleaded, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Baaabee! Come on, the early bird gets the worm."

"The early bird can have the worm." He groaned, not moving from his spot, remaining tangled up in you.

You quickly shook off the memory, approaching your favorite fruit stand. The shelves were covered with various berries, pits, citrus fruits, and melons. Everything looked delicious. When the employee offered you a strawberry to sample, you gladly accepted. Regretting the action immediately after sinking your teeth into the red berry.

"Keep your eyes closed!" Colson shouted, playfully splashing you before quickly hopping out of the large bathtub. He returned within seconds. You could feel the water shift as he stepped back into the hot water that was filled with an unnecessary amount of bubbles. "Okay, open your mouth."

"What?!" Confusion covered your face, your eyes still tightly shut as previously requested.

"Y/n, just open your mouth!"

"Colson, I swear if you put your dick in my mou…" a chocolate-covered strawberry was forced in between your lips, cutting off your sentence. "Oh my God, that is amazing," you said, looking at the beautiful blonde-haired boy sitting in front of you.

"I got them from the stand you like at the farmers market" He smiled proudly.

"You went without me?!" You exclaimed, half upset that you didn't get to go but also pleasantly surprised that he had managed to get up and go by himself.

"I wanted to surprise you" His right hand cupped the side of your face as he gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was passionate and unlike any other kiss you two had previously shared. There was so much emotion behind his movements causing sparks to shoot through your body. He pulled away, eyes still closed, lips hovering over yours. You could tell he felt it too.

"I love you." He spoke without thinking. You opened your eyes, immediately finding his baby blues. That was the first time you realized you loved him.

"Maybe, this was a bad idea," You mumbled quietly to yourself, shaking off yet another memory of the man who broke your heart. It is troublesome how effortlessly the memories come back, when he never did.

You decided it'd be best to head back to your sisters' before any other memories decided to grace you with their presence. Quickly turning to leave, you managed to run into the stranger behind you.

"Ah fuck, I'm sorry" You began apologizing, not realizing who stood before you. Your eyes were met with a pair of familiar blue eyes, and a million thoughts flowed through your mind: don't you live in LA? It's 7am on a Saturday, why are you here?!? . . . how could you leave with no explanation? So many unanswered questions.

"The early bird gets the worm?" He said hesitantly. His voice was warm. An uneasy familiarity surrounded you.

"The early bird can have the worm." You said wistfully. "worms are gross. . . “ you brushed past Colson “and mornings are stupid." You finished, before heading towards your car.

💀 >> II

#colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #mgk x reader #mgk #x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly #memories #heartbreak #early bird #richard colson baker

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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This pandemic has brought out the worst in me. My sleeping schedule is a mess (I go to sleep at 6am and wake up at 2pm), I'm barely able to get out of the bed, I can barely do the dishes and take out the trash, I spend too much time on YouTube and inside my head, thinking about all the stuff I wanted to work on but being unable to do it.

My memory has also gotten worse - if it's not something I'm not obsessed with then I'll not remember the details. I was trying to snap myself out of this hazy floating by trying to focus my mind at least on reading, which is something I absolutely love, but now I'm unable to focus even on a plot I find interesting and intriguing, my mind immediately starts to wander, or I need to do at least 2 things at once (reading and checking Reddit, or reading and listening to some ambient music). I've also started to not finish stories where I once used to read a book a day.

I know the theory of what I should be doing, but that's it. I'm unable to JUST DO it. I think my Te is trying to motivate me by trying to wake up my conscience, but it's not enough. I hate this because I know I can do things and concentrate and be responsible and productive, but because I'm fine and all my basic needs are met I don't have the need to pull myself together. I used to fuel my 7 by travelling and observing people, but now that we need to stay home, and I have covid (so my friends bring me groceries), my 9w1 core sloth is all too happy to be left alone, with my devices.

I know that this pandemic brought pandemic fatigue with it, plus it's spring and I'm always tired in spring (plus my years-long medical issues with thick blood and low blood pressure), but it's driving me crazy that I could've gotten better at my hobbies and could've reached some of my goals by now only if I DID things. Things that used to work don't help anymore. And then I don't even stay mad long because some new video distracts me.

Is there something from a mbti perspective that can help to start doing things and concentrating on them? (For context I'm an ENFP 9w1 7w6 2w3)

Also thank you so much for this blog, thank you for helping lost souls find their way and be better people, both inside their head and outside when interacting with the outer world ❤️ I haven't been studying mbti for that long but so far I've seen so much valuable information on your blog, and for free!

Are you mad enough at yourself yet to change your behavior?

That's really the bottom line here, because you KNOW that YOU have to start being responsible and doing things and not just wasting your time... but YOU are the only person who will force yourself to do things.

A couple of thoughts. First, I recognize this phenomenon / brain fog. It happened to me several times last year during the pandemic (where I am, things are opening up, so hopefully they will soon for you as well) and I hated it. My mind was unclear, I had lots of things I needed to do but could not focus on any of them. It was, to be honest, a Si grip, which yanks you out of Ne-dom (possibilities, excitement about doing projects, seeing things made real) and turns your intuition into a "fog." There's no access to Fi (do I care about this? if I care, am I a principled person enough to do it?) and no Te (how am I going to prioritize my tasks?), just Si (I'm comfy doing nothing and feeling depressed) and flits of Ne, which only show up as being bored, easily distracted, etc. So some of this is a Si grip, and some of it is general depression (being unfocused, sleeping in late, not taking care of yourself, no motivation even for things you love, unable to finish things). You need to approach it by dealing with both -- getting back into your stronger functions (Ne: envisioning possibilities and finding a purpose, Fi: drawing upon your character and who you want to be and what you care about, to take action, Te: making a plan, forcing yourself to do what needs done, and keeping track of your progress to self-motivate) -- and by recognizing and admitting that you are depressed, and asking what you can do about it.

Second, you have built up some BAD habits during the pandemic. I get it. I fell into some of this as well last autumn, when I ceased being my usual productive self and started leaving work (from home) at 3pm every day. I developed a bad habit of just watching television, which numbed my brain and ultimately bored me. It's only now that I have hope and can go to the store without a mask on that I am feeling happier (my little 7 wing rejoices and has PLANS) and can work through into the late afternoon. I'm re-establishing a schedule that is productive throughout the day instead of allowing myself to "meander" in life. So what you need to do is look at your habits. Make a list of them. Look at what you told me: basically, it is I have become undisciplined, my sleep schedule is bad, and then I wake up late and feel lazy so I don't do anything. What is ONE THING that would jolt you into a different routine? Go to bed on time. Set a time every night, shut off all your devices an hour ahead of it, read a book until you get sleepy, and go to sleep. Wake up at a decent hour. If you wake up at 7am instead of 2pm, your body won't fall into its usual "welp, afternoon is half over, guess I'll watch YouTube" habit. It will go -- wait, what new habit are we forming? Breakfast? Then work?? Okay!

Lastly, and this is HUGELY important for an ENFP -- decide the night before what you are going to accomplish or work on tomorrow. Why? It prepares your brain to know what is expected from it. Unless I do this each night, and have a notion of how I am going to spend my time, my Ne goes ?!?! and I get very little done or waste three hours trying to decide what to do. But if I say, "Okay, tomorrow I am finishing chapter four," I usually finish chapter four (and then some). Today, I have to work at my paying job. I knew this last night, so I am mentally clear and prepared to focus only on the task at hand. I don't treat today as "mine." It belongs to my employer. I know what I am going to do, I intend to do it, and when I get home, I know what else I can work on. Learn to create this habit each night before bed. Decide what tomorrow is going to be like and commit to it.

As for tasks you don't want to do that still need done -- just do them. You can spend 2 weeks avoiding them, or spend an hour and get it over with so you don't feel like crap about yourself because you have kept avoiding it for weeks. Decide, "Tomorrow, I am doing that thing first thing in the morning," and then do it.

You will find that when you start setting yourself tasks (Te) that your Ne starts working properly again -- it will become more focused, less hazy, and more interested in what you can contribute, rather than just mindless "consuming." It's fine to have a down day now and again (even so, it's also useful to have a vague idea the night before of what this day will contain, even if it's fun -- it's fun and exciting to anticipate things) but your life NEEDS structure, or you won't do anything.

I hope you can pull yourself out of this, because you won't be happy unless you do. ENFPs need to get things done, contribute, feel like they are moving forward, and have something to show for their time. Without it, they will get angry at themselves -- as you well know.

#question #mbti #enfp #depression #self growth #spiritual development

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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But I'm A Cheerleader! - Chapter 3 (Aja x Farrah) - Millie

A/N: this is going to be a slow burner (I think that’s what it’s called) so sorry if you guys are desperate for some actually relationship stuff between Farrah and Aja. But I want it to be realistic, and as they’re supposed to be enemies it’ll take time.

Okay, so Farrah wasn’t really supposed to sleep over. But every time Aja looked at her, already fast asleep, she couldn’t bear to wake her up and send her home. Her mom was probably back by now, since it was almost midnight. Aja couldn’t sleep. All these thoughts were running through her head about what her team would think about this if they found out. Best case scenario: they didn’t. Worst case scenario: she was exiled from the team. The guilt she felt towards her team was already eating her up, but if she’d left Farrah then a lot worse could’ve happened; it was lucky she got there when she did.

Tomorrow, they’d have to act like nothing happened. They’d go back to their own friends and not say a word to each other. Experiences like this were supposed to bring people together, but this was just going to push them further apart. Not like a Glamazon would want to be friends with a Bomber, anyway.

“Aja,” Farrah whispered. “Aja.”

Aja rolled over and checked her phone: 6:30am. Was she seriously being woken up this early?

“What?!” she whispered back angrily.

“I’m hungry,” she replied. “And this is the time I normally eat.”

“Seriously?! This early?”

“Yeah. Now, can we eat?”

Aja rolled over again and tried to block her out. There was no chance of her getting up before 7am, and a whiny Farrah was not going to change that.

“Don’t ignore me,” Farrah pressed.

“No one can ignore you with all that highlighter,” Aja replied, her voice muffled by her pillow. They were close to an argument. This was how it was supposed to be.

“Please, I’m hungry. I’m practically starving.”

“Fine, I’ll get you some damn food! You can change into some stuff for school while I’m downstairs.”

“But I have nothing to wear.” She groaned exhaustedly. Aja had never known anyone so whiny.

“Grab something of mine. The closet’s over there.” She pointed in the vague direction of where it stood. She shot out of bed and groggily trudged down the stairs and put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. After a couple of minutes it pinged and popped up, and she dumped one slice on each plate, not bothering to put anything on it. She dragged herself upstairs again.

“Here’s some toast,” she said and handed Farrah the plate. She was dressed in a pair of Aja’s blue jeans and a pink sweatshirt.

“Thanks. And thank you for letting me stay last night.” She took the toast.

“No problem.”

“What will our friends say when they find out?” she asked.

“They’re not going to find out,” Aja said sternly. This was a topic she was hoping to avoid. “We both know we shouldn’t even be talking, let alone helping each other.”

“But… I don’t know.”

“But nothing. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

It was break, and Aja hadn’t seen Farrah since they arrived at school. For all she knew, the Bombers knew everything, and soon it’d make its way to the Glamazons. No, you overthinking this, she thought to herself. Farrah wouldn’t. She knows what the teams are like. Her phone vibrated, forcing her out of her anxious bubble - she had a text.

Unknown Number Hey, it’s Farrah. I just spoke to the police and they’re going to find out who mugged me.

She just couldn’t escape this girl. She added Farrah to her contacts and texted back.

Aja How did you get this number?

Farrah It was written on one of the bathroom stalls.

Aja Very funny.

Farrah No, seriously. It had your name under the number and everything.

Aja Oh. Great.

Farrah So yeah. I just wanted you to know.

Aja Thanks. Let me know when they find out who it is.

She was desperate to escape this situation, but her heart wouldn’t let her. It was harder than she thought. Maybe it was curiosity, as if she was waiting for a big reveal in a TV show. Whatever it was, she was still hooked, and she hated herself for it.

The speakers above them in the canteen chimed, signalling that Miss RuPaul was about to make an announcement.

“May all the cheerleaders report to my office,” she requested. All the cheerleaders exchanged confused looks; this had never happened before. The Glamazons stood up from their seats, shortly followed by the Bombers, and made their way to the office. Valentina knocked on the door before they all entered, squeezing themselves into the tiny room.

Miss RuPaul’s office may have been small, but it was the most magnificent room in the school. The walls were painted a soft pink and lined with framed photographs of the previous winners of Footballer Of The Year, with Cheerleader Of The Year below them. There were cabinets either side of her stacked from top to bottom with trophies the school had earned from sporting events and academic state competitions, Tuckahoe High School clearly coming out on top. In the middle was a vast oakwood desk, topped with vases and flowers, with Miss RuPaul printed on a stainless steel plaque that rested in front of her.

“Now,” she began. “Have any of you heard of the West Hollywood Cheerleader Tryouts?” Everyone shook their head apart from Valentina, who squealed in excitement.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, earning a judgemental glare from Aja.

Miss RuPaul smiled at her. “Well then I think you’ll be pleased to know I have entered you all into it for this summer,” she said, causing everyone to gasp. “But!” she interrupted before anyone could speak. “You must work together. As one team.” The statement received groans and complaints from everyone.

“Do we have to?” Kimora asked, exasperated.

“Yes,” their headteacher replied. “Unless you don’t want to compete.” An small uproar began in the tiny office, complaints and shouts filling the small space. “Ladies! I’m saying you need to work together, not that you need to be friends, and that’s that. I expect to see you at rehearsals after school tonight.”

Great. If trying to avoid Farrah wasn’t enough work, now she had a competition on her plate. The day was just getting worse and worse.

Finally, it was Aja’s last class of the day: textiles. They were practicing for their final project of the year, which was free choice. Most people had chosen to do dresses or shirts (Aja had opted for the former), and some had chosen things like pillows (like Farrah, for example, since she wasn’t the best sewer). Textiles was probably Aja’s favourite lesson; doing something she loved was the perfect way to relax after the stress of the day. For others, sewing was not relaxing at all, which Aja could not understand. Maybe it was because she was a better seamstress than them.

Across the room, she could hear Farrah whining. Again. As everyone else was sewing - Aja was halfway through hers - Farrah’s cushion was a mess of tangled thread and fabric stuck in her sewing machine. She grumpily stomped on the pedal, which worsened it, and groaned.

“Aja, can you help Farrah, please?” their teacher asked. She gave Aja a look that told her there was no way of getting out of it.

She got out of her seat and walked to where the sewing machines were at the back of the room. Farrah was sitting there, defeated, looking up at Aja like a puppy left out in the cold.

“What the fuck have you done to this?” she asked, sitting down in the seat next to her. She pulled her chair closer to have a better look. Farrah continued staring at her, as if she was her only hope, but also like she’d taken offence. “I, uh, sorry. But this is a mess.”

“Can it be a pleated cushion?” Farrah asked, touching the ruffles of the fabric where the thread had scrunched it up.

“No way would that pass. Let me show you how to do it.” Carefully, she untangled the thread from around the needle, cutting it with scissors and pulling it out of the fabric with caution. Farrah observed her, watching her nimble fingers work over her failure. The way her eyes roamed over the fabric and spotted the problems was equally as satisfying; she’d probably done it a million times before. Aja didn’t understand why Farrah was still in this class if she couldn’t sew, but she figured that she was probably asking herself the same question. After a good few minutes, the cushion was free from its threaded cage.

“Can you show me how to do it now?” Farrah asked, taking the two pieces of fabric back. They were warm with the friction of Aja’s hands.

“Sure,” Aja said. “Place it under the needle, where you want to start sewing.”

Farrah placed the fabric in the machine. “Then what?”

“Do what you did last time, but hold the fabric flat when you push it along.”

She pressed down on the pedal suddenly, whizzing her cushion-to-be through the same process again. Almost automatically, Aja reached for Farrah’s hands in an attempt to save the fabric, gripping on tight to slow her down.

“Go slowly,” she said. “Don’t push on the pedal so hard.” It took her a few seconds to realise her hands were still holding Farrah’s. “Right, I’ll help you.” It was a lame excuse, but less awkward than saying “shit, sorry, I definitely shouldn’t even be near you right now, so please excuse this”. Eureka was in their class too, probably watching them closely, as Aja could feel eyes piercing into her back. She would’ve thought Eureka would be helping Farrah, but when Aja looked at her piece from the corner of her eye she could tell it wasn’t even close to done, so no wonder why she was subject to the torture.

She guided Farrah through the sewing, showing her which button did what and how the machine worked (their teacher had somehow neglected to show her or something). The fabric she’d chosen was a soft plush polyester in a baby pink colour, which was soft and silky. The fluffiness meant she probably couldn’t add much else to it, resulting in a low grade, but she didn’t think Farrah was too bothered about that if she couldn’t sew to begin with.

“Better?” Aja asked, taking the half-finished cushion out of the machine.

“Much better. Thanks.”

“My advice: don’t use that material for your final piece, ‘cause you can’t add anything to it,” she said. “If you want a better grade, use better fabric.”

She nodded in acknowledgement.

At last, the bell rang to signal the end of the day. Normally that would be a good thing, but now that they had even more rehearsals to do, it was the warning alarm that she’d be hot, sweaty, and exhausted.

The teacher let them go and everyone practically clawed their way out of the classroom. Aja walked quickly to bypass Farrah in case she wanted to walk alongside her. Maybe it was mean, but it was the only way her friends wouldn’t suspect anything. Sadly, it wasn’t going to change the fact that she’d be spending another hour or two with her and the teams watching.

#aja #farrah moan #au #millie #rpdr fanfiction #farraja #but i'm a cheerleader #cheerleader au #s9

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