#is it pathetic to want so badly for my mr darcy?

[stellaluna33]

The Phone Call

A preview of what’s coming next in my Gilmore fic The Long And Winding Road, as a phone conversation between Jess and Luke. (You now know more than Rory will in the next chapter... No one knows this except Jess and Luke... and you.)

"Hello?"

"Hey, Luke."

"Jess.  How's it going?"

"Oh, you know.  Just fine.  You still in Nantucket?"

"Yeah.  Rory and Richie came with, as you probably know.  But we also have a, let's say, 'surprise' visitor up here today."

"Reeeeally.  Who's that?"

"Oh, none other than the great Logan Huntzberger himself, who finally deigned to see his son because he could pass it off as a polite visit to a family friend while he was 'in the area.'"

"Jeez.  He still hasn't told anyone, has he?"

"Apparently not.  Claims he's 'waiting for the right moment,' or some kinda bullsh**."

"Bastard."

"You're tellin' me.  But why'd you call?  You don't usually call this time of day."

"Yeah.  Well, I, uh… I got some news today."

"Oh yeah?  What's that?"

"So, I don't know if you remember me talking about that writer's residency program in Argentina last year?"

"Oh yeah, weren't you thinking about applying for that?"

"Yeah.  I did apply for it, actually.  There was a pretty long waiting list, though."

"Oh, I see.  So, d'you hear something about that?"

"Yeah.  Today, actually.  I, uh… I got in."

"Jess, that is fantastic news!  Good for you.  That's a really great opportunity for you."

"Yeah.  Yeah, it is.  I, uh… just… I'm not sure if I wanna take it."

"What?!!  Jess, you can't be serious!  You've been wanting to do something like this for God knows how long!  And now you've got this opportunity and you're just going to let it pass you by?"

"I don't know, it's just… I don't know if it's a good time for me to be leaving the country right now."

"What, you got something goin' on at work?"

"No...  No, it's not that, it's…  I don't know."

"Well?  What is it?  What's stopping you?"

"I just… part of me thinks that I should be here, right now.  In case… you know, in case a... friend might need me."

"In case a friend might-  Oh jeez. Jess.  Tell me you're not talking about Rory."

Jess took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily through his nose.

"Are you serious?!  Jess!  You told me you were over that!  Long over, if I remember it correctly."

"Yeah, well, I was over it!  At least, I thought I was…"

"Oh, Jess."

"I know!  I know.  I'm pathetic.  I swore I would never end up like you, and yet here I am."

"Hey!  Things didn't turn out so bad for me in the end, you know."

"I know.  You're right.  I'm worse.  I already had my chance with Rory, and I screwed it up so badly that she wishes our entire relationship had never happened."

"Jess, you were just a kid. I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh no?  Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that's exactly the way she remembers it."

"Ah jeez.  She put that in that book she's writing?"

"Yup."

"And you've been reading over it, right?"

"Yup."

"Well, sh**.  I'm sorry, Jess."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is, and it's my own damned fault, so I don't really have the right to be put out about it."

"Well, ok, but… that being the case, don't you think it's time to let this go?"

"Past time.  But that's the worst part… I've tried.  G-d, I've tried.  And I thought I was mostly ok with it, you know?  There's been occasional relapses of… regret or… moments when I've wished things could've turned out differently, but… I haven't been hoping for anything.  I've been trying to move on.  I've had relationships."

"You only went on, like, two dates with that last girl, what was her name?"

"Sylvia?"

"Yes, Sylvia!  But two dates, Jess!  You give up that quickly and you call that trying?"

"That's what I'm getting to, though.  This year has been… different.  It wasn't so bad when I only saw her for a few minutes every couple years or so, but between the wedding and the book and everything that's been going on with her lately, Rory and I have been talking all the time, and I just… I still like her more than any other woman I've ever met, Luke.  And I told myself that she hasn't wanted me for over a decade now.  She made her feelings abundantly clear, and I have offered myself up like an idiot over and over and over again, just on the off chance that she might have changed her mind, and she has turned me down every single time.  I mean, how many times does she need to say it before I get a clue?  'No means no,' right?  I'm done.  I'm not doing that again.  So, I guess we're friends now.  She really likes me as a friend, she says, so I'll be her friend and be grateful I get to spend time with her at all.  And I'm doing my best to be ok with that.  So I finally asked Sylvia out, and it was nice.  She's beautiful and interesting, and maybe it coulda gone somewhere… but then you had to go and tell Rory about it.  And she got weird, man.  She called me up, and she was comparing me to Mr. Darcy, and-"

"Am I supposed to know who the hell that is?"

"Are you serious?  You've lived with Lorelai for, what, ten years now, and she hasn't tied you down and made you watch all six f***ing hours of that BBC monstrosity?  Pride and Prejudice?  Jane Austen?  Lorelai going on and on about Colin Firth emerging from a lake in a wet shirt and breeches?  Ring any bells?"

"Ah, maybe.  I think I fell asleep about five minutes in."

"Of course you did.  Well, all you need to know is that he's the romantic hero of the story, but he's a complete ass for like, two thirds of the book, which is obviously where the resemblance lies.  So she's on a roll with that, and hey, I deserve it, but then she throws in the fact that he changes and fixes everything and the heroine can't help falling in love with him in the end.  And what the hell am I supposed to do with that?  Because last I knew, we were talking about me, and that would imply that… I don't know.  All I know is that she got all flustered and started grilling me about my date with Sylvia, that you told her about, thanks so much, and then she starts going on about how she hopes I'll be very happy and how I deserve to be happy and I deserve to be with 'someone who has her life together.'  And then she started crying and frickin' hung up on me!"

"Huh."

"Yeah!  So, that whole thing kinda threw me, and all of a sudden, I'm not so sure where I stand anymore.  I mean, am I crazy?  Is that a normal reaction to hearing that a friend is seeing someone?"

"I don't know, Jess.  It's weird, I'll give you that… but who knows, with pregnant women…"

"Well, yeah, there's that, too… But I went out with Sylvia again, because I was trying, you know?  I owed it to myself and to her to give it an honest shot, but… I couldn't… I couldn't stop thinking about that phone call, Luke.  I couldn't stop thinking about her.  Because what if this was finally, finally a chance after all these years, and could I really just let that slip away?  Could I start a relationship with someone else, knowing that I might be throwing away a shot with Rory?  And I've been saying that there wasn't any chemistry with Sylvia and me, but the truth is, I know that's all on me.  It was awkward because of me, because I was distracted and I was distant and I wasn't sure I wanted to be there.  And Sylvia deserves better than that.  It was better to end it before anybody got hurt."

"Ah, jeez, Jess."

"It's true.  I'll go ahead and say it:  I sabotaged my own attempt at having a happy relationship because I'm still hung up on my highschool girlfriend.  And there it is.  I'm such a pathetic loser."

"You're not a loser, Jess.  You've come a long way.  But she's got a baby now."

"I know that.  And even if she has changed her mind about me, the timing is so bad...  She needs me to be a friend she can depend on right now.  The last thing she needs is the stress of fending off yet more unwanted advances from her crazy ex-boyfriend who can't take no for an answer.  And I can't go there again, I just can't.  So, I'm stuck in this no-man's-land."

"So how is all this stopping you from going to Argentina?  Maybe a few months away from all this would be good for you."

"Maybe… maybe.  But I just… I broke her trust before by leaving.  I made a lot of mistakes, but that?  That was the one she couldn't forgive me for.  And I want to be there for her, I want her to know that she can count on me now, that if she needs me, I am there.  But I can't do that if I'm halfway across the world.  I'd be of no more use to her than Logan is, and I… God help me, I want her to think of me as someone who can give her something that he can't.  And if I go, I can't do that.  And I have this feeling that if I go now, that'll be it for her.  The end.  Three strikes, I'm out.  For good this time."

"Were you planning on leaving without telling her?"

"Well, no, of course I wasn't..."

"'Cause I think that was a big part of the problem last time…"

"Yeah.  I get that.  But what if she doesn't see it that way?"

"Jess, all I can say is maybe you should talk to Rory about it.  See how she feels about it."

"I guess I'll have to."

"For my part, I think you should go.  And she won't be alone, Jess.  She's got Lorelai, and me, and Lane..."

"You're right.  Who'm I kidding?  She doesn't need me anyway."

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, well, it's probably true anyway.  But it's good to know that she's got you looking out for her.  I'd need you to promise me that, if I'm gonna even consider this."

"You got it."

"Well… thanks for listening.  I guess I'd better go.  I'm gonna call Rory, like you said."

"I think that'd be a good idea."

"Yeah.  Well, talk to you later, Uncle Luke."

"Later, kid.  You… you take care of yourself, alright?"

"I always do.  But thanks."

Thank you for reading. Please, PLEASE share any comments or ask any questions you’re wondering about!  I crave your opinion. What do you think of this?  My muse is in desperate need of encouragement so I can finish writing Chapter 9 sooner rather than later!

#Gilmore Girls #Fanfiction #Literati #seriously please talk to me #The Long and Winding Road #this is an exclusive! #It won't be in the next chapter #and I haven't posted this anywhere else! #@tinygothgoblindaydreaming #@lily-of-the-vallies #@blueforest7

[fckinsupreme]

Anonymous requested: sub! dunc omggggg

Okay so I decided to go the President Duncan route with this one! I promise the other sub Duncan request I got will be canon Duncan, I just love writing President Daddy so much 😩

Note: reader is his girlfriend and he’s NOT married in this one!

—————————-

You’ve faced many challenges in your life, but getting Duncan Shepherd to submit to you was the hardest.

It was Duncan’s idea for you to dominate him, but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He kept telling you that you weren’t trying hard enough, that you weren’t putting in enough effort, that he could easily overpower you and take control himself. You finally got tired of his playful complaints and him trying to take over, and decided to up the ante. All it took was a hand wrapped around his throat and a slap to his balls before his composure started to slip. His resolve gave way a little more when you cuffed him to the bed, making him wear a cock ring before applying clamps to his nipples. He was completely gone when you placed a ball gag in his mouth, his icy blue eyes both dangerous and also full of need as they met yours.

“That will finally shut you up,” you said to him, giving his cheek a light slap as he groaned pleasurably around the gag. “You talk way too fucking much, do you know that?”

Now, you were lying on your back with your cunt facing him, playing with yourself. He was trying to speak around the ball gag, his face full of desperation as you fuck yourself with a dildo. You moan, running your free hand over one of your breasts as you meet his eyes. He tugs at the cuffs, making another desperate attempt to talk as you remove the dildo and hold it to your lips.

“Do you wish this was your cock, Daddy?” you ask innocently, rubbing the wet tip over your lower lip before running your tongue along the head. “I do. I want you to fuck me, and then fuck my throat with my cum still all over your cock.”

He makes an angry noise, and you chuckle as you push the dildo into your mouth. You groan as your taste floods your mouth, deep throating it and hollowing your cheeks as you fuck your own throat. After a moment, you pop off and push it inside of your pussy again, watching as Duncan thrashes against his restraints and tries speaking. You sit up, taking the cock out before removing the gag from Duncan’s mouth. Drool dribbles down his chin and bridges the ball to his mouth, but he doesn’t notice or care. He’s too busy glaring at you.

“You’re going to get your ass beat later,” he growls. “Mark my fucking words, princess.”

“Why?” you ask with a pout, tilting your head as you bring the slick toy into his view. “It was your idea to do this, remember? I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

“If I could, I’d slap your little cunt right now,” Duncan says as he keeps his gaze on you. “You’re being a fucking smart ass whore right now.”

“Careful, Daddy,” you say, grabbing the nipple clamp’s chain and giving it a hard tug as he moans. “Don’t get too bossy or cocky, or I might just leave you here like this. It would be a shame to have to explain to Secret Service that your girlfriend cuffed you to your bed for being a fucking brat. How humiliating that would be for you, Mr. President.”

He growls again, and you place the dildo to his lips. He looks at you skeptically, and you nod as a way to give him permission. His tongue snakes out for a taste of your arousal still on the toy, but you pull it back hastily before he gets a chance. You rub it between your tits instead, swiping the tip over each of your hardened nipples before waving it in his face.

“How badly do you want it?” you question him. “Tell me, Duncan. Tell me how much you need my cock.”

“I want you to start prepping me right now,” he says, his hands balled in fists as he tries to break free of the handcuffs. “I’m tired of waiting for you. You know what I want, so give it to me.”

“And I’m tired of you being a demanding little bitch,” you say, smacking his balls as hard as you can before wrapping a hand around his throat. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to shut up and be good, or else I’m putting the gag back in and leaving you just like that. You’re such a fucking brat, Duncan. Who would have ever thought?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but he’s silenced as you tighten the clamps on his nipples. He groans filthily, head tipping against the pillows as you choke him. You make no move to give in to his demands, not yet. Instead, you keep a hold on his throat, grinding against his hard, throbbing erection for a moment before you say: “If the world could see you now, Mr. President. All tied up, begging his girlfriend to fuck him with a fake cock, being a needy little bitch. As dominant as you are, all the power you exude, and you’re nothing more than a pathetic, whiny little brat.”

Duncan’s rugged, dominant facade starts to crumble. The aggression and frustration in his eyes melts away to pure need, and his face softens as he looks at you. You run your tongue over the pulse point of his neck, his desperate whines flooding your ears before you grab the lube from the bedside table. He’s stopped pulling at the cuffs and is no longer being bossy and demanding, so you decide to reward him with what he wants most.

“Hold still for me,” you say gently, slicking one of your fingers with lube before rubbing it around his tight rim. “It’s gonna sting for a minute, okay? Just lie back and relax, and it won’t hurt for long.”

Duncan nods, and opens his legs a bit further for you. You slide the finger inside of him, and he sucks in a sharp breath before exhaling in the form of a shaky moan. You allow him to get used to the feel of it, to adjust to having something inside of him, pumping it a little before withdrawing it. You squirt lube on the same finger and on a second one, slipping them both inside as he tugs roughly at the cuffs.

“Is it too much?” you ask, pausing. “Should I stop for a minute?”

“No, keep going,” Duncan begs. “I’m okay; it just feels weird, that’s all. I’m not used to it.”

You slide your fingers in to the last knuckle, immediately curling them against his prostate. He cries out in delight, and you scissor him open little by little. You take your time, adding a third finger to coax him open even further. You want this experience to be comfortable for him, and the more he was prepped, the better he would feel. You go slowly, carefully, massaging his prostate occasionally as you work him open.

“Fuck, that’s too good,” Duncan breathes, clenching around your fingers before his head tips back. Sweat shines on his skin, his face flushed, precum oozing from the tip of his cock. “I’m ready.”

You smirk at him, climbing up his body and grabbing the handcuff key from the table. You dangle it in front of him for a moment before uncuffing him, and to your surprise, he doesn’t try to take over. He just lies there, looking up at you with heavy, lustful eyes, waiting for his next instructions like the obedient sub you wanted him to be all along. You grab the strap as he flexes his wrists and fingers, putting it on before slicking the dildo in generous amounts of lube. You lie on your back next to him and he offers a curious glance, which causes you to grin as you gesture toward the toy.

“Ride me, Duncan,” you say, pulling him for a quick, messy kiss. “I want you to ride my cock like the good boy that you are.”

Duncan immediately scrambles to a sitting position, shifting so that he’s straddling you with his hole lined up to the dildo. You tug on the clamps still attached to his nipples, and he inhales sharply before sinking onto the toy with a hot, shaky moan. You watch as it disappears inside of him, grinning as he takes it all to the hilt. You thrust upward a bit, and he hisses in pleasure as his head lolls.

“You look so hot right now,” you say, running your hands up his broad chest before yanking the clamps again. “You’re taking my cock so well, Mr. President.”

“Mmm...” he hums, licking his lips before inhaling deeply. “It feels really fucking good. I never thought this would feel good, but fuck...”

“Go on,” you say, grasping a hand around his cock and stroking him in slow, shallow movements. “Bounce on my cock.”

It takes him a little time to set a proper rhythm, but once he gets going, he’s totally gone. His dominance and powerful demeanor have completely vanished, and in its place is a man who reduced to a whining, needy mess. He moves his hips skillfully along the toy, impaling himself on it and crying out when it bumps his prostate. You jerk him off in time with his movements, occasionally cupping his balls with your free hand as you do so. He tries to play with your tits and you slap his hands away, shaking your head at him with a mocking pout.

“Not yet,” you tell him. “You still haven’t earned it.”

“But—“ he begins, and you grab the cuffs to swing them in his view.

“I’ll put these back on,” you warn. “Behave.”

Duncan doesn’t attempt it again. Instead, he increases the speed of his movements, his head thrown back as you pump his cock even faster. You smirk at him, shaking your head as you tsk playfully. You give his balls a smack, reaching up to take hold of his throat as his needful eyes meet your own.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” you ask. “The future First Lady is pegging you, and you can’t fucking get enough of it. You’re such a whore for me, Duncan. Isn’t that right?”

He nods with a whimper, and you continue. “Do you want everyone to know what a depraved little fuckdoll you are? Do you want the world to see you like this, completely at my mercy?”

“Yes,” he says enthusiastically, his cock twitching with his impending orgasm. “Please, fuck—“

“I can arrange that,” you say with a wicked smirk, grabbing your phone and starting to record a video of him bouncing desperately on the cock. “Smile, Mr. President.”

—————

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @leatherduncan @elizabeth-bennnett-darcy @dark-mei-rose @littlegirlsdontplaynice @melodylangdon @wickedlangdon @whatcodysaid @frenchlangdon @blakewaterxx @langdonshellion @lvngdvns @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons

#under a read more because it turned out a little longer than i planned oops #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd blurb #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd x reader

[him-e]

Could you give some recommendations of TV shows that are, in your opinion, good/interesting/fun to watch/etc.? They can be recent or older ones, and pretty much of any genre (also, the more recommendations, the better).

disclaimer: I haven’t been in the *right* mood to really get into anything for a LONG WHILE, so my feelings about tv and movies at the moment exist in a spectrum that goes from “ok I guess” to “this somehow sucks even more than my life does and I want to crawl into a hole and rot in it”. So don’t expect lots of flailing and squeeing, lol. THAT SAID, I’m going to focus on the stuff I’ve seen recently:

bridgerton. mildly fun. very cw-ish but with occasional sexplosions. a mix between reign and gossip girl set in regency era. no mr darcy equivalent, unfortunately (the duke of hastings is 100% a chad). also don’t expect historical accuracy or anything like actual jane austen vibes. the main couple is quite shippable and has some decent banter and slow burn until it suddenly escalates into marriage and the sexplosion I mentioned above. the best part, though, is that i’m apparently shipping in*cest again 

the undoing. nicole kidman is married to hugh grant, who is, shockingly, an asshole. but before you think “typecasting”, more on the creepy than pathetic side. the mystery is kinda underwhelming imo bc it leads you to think there’s much to the story than what you originally thought, but no, it really is that simple.

the crown. what can i say? very well written and acted. It’s also super slow and analytical, and can be occasionally boring, if you’re not in the mood. I’m being super slow at catching up because I’m watching it with my mother, and I’m still at season 3 and feeling inappropriately (but also predictably) sympathetic towards Charles (but I’m looking forward to the Diana episodes). This is also a good show if you wanna play “drink every time you recognize a Game of Thrones/Being Human/*insert iconic franchise starring predominantly british folks* actor”. Speaking of royals...

the queen’s gambit. 10/10. Singlehandedly cured my depression for a week. absolutely perfect in every aspect (almost---the lack of a main romance with HEA was a bit of a bummer, but there’s shipping material nonetheless): only one season, “strong” heroine in the sense that she’s a character with an actual PERSONALITY who falls and has genuine flaws and---despite being “inexplicably” a genius (the show gives the context of how she learns to play chess but doesn’t go out of its way to *justify* her talent or how she managed to pulverize guys older and better trained than her)---falls, and loses, sometimes badly, actually at one point slips into a pit of depression and self destruction but only to eventually rise again. I also somehow didn’t come out of this show hating the entire male gender any more than I already do, even though it’s a story about a woman in a male-dominated field who often has to face sexism and patronising attitudes from her peers. but almost everyone she meets is, actually, a quite decent guy? even those who initially challenge her or treat her condescendingly. It’s also a lesson about writing stories with very definite ANTAGONISTS who, however, are NOT villains (but obviously this wouldn’t work for every genre, this one is a fairytale-ish coming of age, a female power fantasy set in the real world, it actually reminded me of 80′s spokon/shoujo anime like Attacker You) 

a discovery of witches. I’ve seen only season one so far, and let me say I didn’t expect a main romance between a VAMPIRE and a WITCH to be such a SNOOZEFEST. dear god. I swear they’re giving me Bill/Sookie vibes (and I like Matthew Goode). but aside from this, it’s sorta watchable, and there’s an *evil* finnish witch who’s in a sorta kinda enemies-to-friends dynamic with the protagonist

his dark materials. Still have to catch up on season 2 because I feel rather lukewarm about it. I haven’t read the books so I can’t tell if it’s a good adaptation or not. From what I can see, everything is in the right place to make it a good story, but somehow, I’m not vibing with it? Maybe I’m just too old to care about stories with child protagonists lol.

cursed. watch it for the weeping monk. YES he’s Medieval Kylo Ren.

the boys. pretty much the most FUN (and plot-heavy) shit I’ve seen recently, but also the only good take about marvel-style superheroes and their whole fake-deep, dishonest, intensely capitalistic rhetorics i can stomach anymore (beyond the on the nose parody and obvious--a bit insufferable actually--genre-subverting intent, try looking at Homelander & co. through the lens of this post). oh yeah I also ship Frenchie and Kimiko btw, which just proves how a mediocre show can become good, and a good show can turn into AMAZING if there’s something I can ship in it.

now quite out of character for me but here’s a couple Netflix rom com movie recs:

holidate. yeah I know christmas time is over but this somehow became my new comfort movie. Fake dating at its finest. Hot, fun, not insufferably cheesy, definitely not a Hallmark Xmas movie (you know those movies where as a set up the female protagonist breaks up with her long term fiance and she’s like, “oh.”, and proceeds to be sad for 0,5 seconds? This is not one of those), it’s an actual slow burn, and there’s a part where the heroine has a diarrhea emergency which a) is not played as a gross joke and b) somehow leads to hot, romantic sex??

leap year. a 2010 movie with Matthew Goode (who is sexier here than in vampire form) and Amy Adams, it’s a road trip in Ireland (!!!!) with a shitton of belligerent romantic tension and fanfic tropes, 10/10

#anon #asks #* #recs* #show recs #movie recs

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi Charity as you are an ENFP I wanted to ask you how to do you see Si and Te in you? How was it clear for you that you were Ne dom and Fi aux and not the contrary? You said in the past that you cinsidered yourself socially introvert or shy, which I think is my case and I'm not sure about INFP or ENFP for me. Thanks a lot

My main way of recognizing my status as an extrovert, beyond my need for external stimulation all the time (NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN TEN MINUTES, MY LIFE SUCKS) is that I am not a Fi-dom. So excuse me, while I once again travel into the land of indecisive Ne to illustrate my point; then I will return to your initial question.

If you compare the INFPs on this blog to the ENFPs, you will notice that the INFP’s Fi is often very prominent and “runs the show.” This is also true with real life INFPs, who as judging dominants, have and express very strong opinions. Since they are in contact with their inner self most of the time, they often know what they like and dislike, what they want to do or refuse to do, and how they FEEL about most things. There is rarely indecision on that point, especially when it comes to the strength of their inner moral focus.

While I have extremely strong opinions in a few areas, in the broader scope of reality, I am far more indecisive and disconnected from my feelings, to the point where half the time, I rationalize them out with Te, or question my “right” to feel this way at all, rather than just use them. Something I admire about INFPs is they tend to be more decisive than I am, especially in their likes and dislikes. As a Ne-dom, my likes and dislikes can change from day to day.

An INFP I know had a fight with her friends once and door-slammed all of them. She knew how she felt, that they were dissing her opinions and not respecting her true self, and after she had enough, she was done. And she did not waffle on that decision. She just quit. She made up with them much later on, but only after her temper cooled, and she had space and time to mature in her own way (and they matured also). She knew what she wanted: them gone. For now.

I complained the other day to my mother about Elizabeth of York in Philippa Gregory’s novel / miniseries, The White Princess. She is so indecisive. She changes her mind from one chapter to the next about who she is, what she wants, and answers “I don’t know” to half the questions posed to her. Some days she likes her husband, some days she doesn’t; she intends to give up on him, then turns around and falls for him again. It’s seriously annoying.

Once I got done with my rant, my mother smiled and said, “So she’s basically you, in literary form.”

Gee, thanks mom.

My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds, while my Fi had a little tantrum, and then my Te immediately snapped in and I went: “I guess. But I’d make a BAD heroine. Heroines need to be decisive! Books need plots! Heroines need to know what they want, or at least figure it out, and get there, not be lost in indecision! The plot must move forward!”

Unlike me. =P

Ne-dom makes me changeable. And it annoys me. One day, I might want this. The next day, I might not. One day, I might decide that this friend sucks. The next day, I might think I was wrong and they’re awesome. They did not change. My Ne flipped the situation around for a different perspective. It runs right over my Fi and what it wants, all the time. This means that I either do not KNOW what I want or cannot ADMIT to myself what I want, nor give myself permission to want it. It annoys me, it annoys my parents, it annoys my friends, and it annoys my cat. But that’s how it is.

I WISH I had some Fi to haul Ne’s ass into a chair and decide: NOPE. But no, instead Ne hauls me around with Fi going “Um… I don’t know how I feel yet?”

But anyway, rant aside: back to your question.

How do I see Si and Te in me?

I see Te a lot when I ‘temporarily loop’ in order to avoid dealing with my feelings. I do not LIKE my feelings. I consider them a major pain in the butt. When my grandpa died, I was a wreck before it happened. I didn’t even know him that well, but it took him a long time to die. His organs slowly shut down. I was so immersed in the pain of what was happening to my loved ones, that I cried way more than any of them. But after his death, my Te immediately kicked in. Mom wanted to clear out his house. Like, immediately. That’s how she copes.

So we did. I put aside my emotions, went into that house, and went through all my grandparents’ stuff. We filled a dumpster. I organized everything we decided to keep in piles for the family to choose from after the funeral. A lot of my decisions were people-motivated – my cousins loved playing these games with Grandma. Shall we keep them? I’ll make sure they have all the pieces and put them in nice piles. I did the funeral video. Everyone needs a Ne-dom for that. It wasn’t just about Grandpa, it was about his life. His dreams. His parents. The culture he grew up in. I managed the voice-over, without falling to pieces.

And then, I moved on.

My Si is very poor. I may be adverse to CHANGE when people announce it (and I have to deal with it a lot, my parents literally cannot live six months without changing their house around, the yard, etc) but I am not stuck in the past. Half the time it never comes to my mind. The past flows beyond me. A day can seem a week ago, and three years ago can seem like yesterday. I gaped when a friend showed me a picture recently with 2014 stamped on the bottom. That was that long ago!? My grasp on time sucks. My awareness of time sucks. My own carelessness with time… sucks. A Si-friend recently said, “You should take more pictures with your cat. You will want them when she’s eventually gone.”

I stared at her. “I will?”

See, I don’t think like that. When people, places, things, are gone, I miss them. I love them. I still think about them sometimes, but they are gone. I do not pour over pictures. I do not sit and endlessly talk about the past. I do not want to think about the past. I moved on.

Sometimes, people tell me I should slow down, or take more time with that, since they do not want me to “look back one day, and regret this moment.”

Thing is, that probably won’t happen. I rarely go back.

Unless I hurt someone badly, and never received their forgiveness, or am beating myself up about something I should have done to stop something bad from happening, I don’t look back and regret. You cannot drive a car staring into your rear view mirror. In that way, I am careless. But I don’t know how to NOT be careless. Things matter right now, and then they’re gone. I loved that show, but it’s canceled. There’s new stuff to watch. I take in so much of it (as a Ne-dom), only a few things stick longer than six months.

And sometimes, I desperately want them to stick. I sit with someone or something loving it, immersed in its beauty, and think, “How can I hold onto it? I already feel it slipping away! WHY CAN’T I APPRECIATE THIS MORE?”

Inferior Si.

This is going to sound weird, because it is weird. But, under stress… I start obsessively tinkering with sensory elements. I’ve been editing and rewriting a book for what seems like forever (forever to me is four months, but I don’t want to talk about how this is the eighth draft of the fourth version of this book in two years) which is very tedious, Si-driven work. My Te is happy to help out with deadlines, and charts, and word counts, and I have a nice little sheet of paper with things marked on it, where I enter my progress each day to keep myself motivated. But I swear on my soul, yesterday when I opened the file, my Si went nuts and said: I don’t like this font. It curls funny. Change it.

So I did.

And then I sat there for at least ten minutes, changing the font, again and again, then the sizing several times. I printed out a page to see how it will look in book form, then promptly forgot which configuration I used (poor Si!) and had to print several more sheets in different sizes. I never did figure out which was the font and what size I used for that first sheet. (Shame, I like it the best.) Then I resized the file across my screen, to try and get the font to ‘curl’ how I like it, so I could read it. I cannot read it, unless it’s the right size. And font. And I must edit so there are no paragraphs that end with one word on the next line.

(Are you laughing yet? Is that not pathetic? Welcome to my life.)

Screw inferior Si. It’s bullshit.

I never know how to say this without hurting feelings but… Fi-doms are sensitive and since INFPs have higher Si, they do not forgive you fast.

Think about two terrific insults against NFPs (from future husbands) in literature and compare them to how you process things.

Gilbert Blythe pulls Anne Shirley’s braid and calls her carrots. The little INFP smashes her slate against his head and screams at him in class. She then tells Diana “the iron has entered my soul: I shall never forgive him,” and proceeds to ignore him, compete with him, and refuse to speak to him. For years. Gibert has to grovel to get on her good side, many times. She is super sensitive and her emotions flare up immediately. “You hurt me EXCRUCIATINGLY,” she says. She means it. He DID.

Mr. Darcy insults Lizzie’s appearance (she is not handsome enough to tempt me into a dance – ie, she’s not that pretty) in Pride & Prejudice. ENFP Lizzie gapes at him, then promptly turns it into a joke. She never brings it up again. She’s mad, but more mad about what he does to Jane than his insult. She finally confronts him when he proposes, but not about that. No, it was not the insult that hit her; it was the impression she formed of his character, based on it. And when he writes her a letter that basically calls out her family for being loud, obnoxious, inappropriate trash, she is pissed but has enough high Te to realize: he has every right to feel that way about us, based on what he saw. Once she realizes WHY he thinks how he does, her anger cools. And her mind changes about him. The anger dissipates.

Did he hurt her? Sure. Deeply? Not so much.

Someone walked up to my INFP the other day and insulted her appearance. It hurt. A lot. She will probably never speak to him again.

A person insulted me to my face at dinner a few years ago. He basically implied the people I work with and the caliber of their work is poor, and I should do a better job selecting the material we work on together. (IE: Wow, you suck.) I bitch-slapped him good with a Te-snarl comeback and … promptly moved on. I was mildly annoyed by it, and it certainly colored our interactions from that point on, but I wasn’t hurt by it so much as annoyed. We stayed “friends.”

I can count the number of times people have actually hurt my feelings on one hand. My Te is strong.

How do I know this?

I’m one of the first people to come up with a rational, non-emotional “fix it” to problems. I often discount my own feelings or put them aside entirely, to get a job done. I remember one time, a friend PM’d me after I wrote a movie review and said, “But did you LIKE it?? You wrote an excellent review, but it was so non-emotional I don’t even know what YOU thought of it.” I criticized the poor elements and talked about the good ones, but there was none of “me” there.

I admit, I was a little more emotionally reactive as a child / young teeanger, but Fi still wasn’t running the show. Most Fi-dom children are very sensitive. When asked what I was like, various family members (without consulting one another) have laughed and said, “Your focus was on being a comedian. You wanted to make people laugh. But you were not especially emotional.”

I’m not. It’s true. Sometimes to my own determent.

- ENFP Mod

PS: If you get to the end of this certain you are an NFP, but you don’t know what you do in a situation in order to compare it to Lizzie or Anne’s emotional reactions, congrats: that’s shitastic inferior Si. You are an indecisive Ne-dom.

#question #enfp #infp #enfp x infp #mbti