it's been sitting in my drafts forever

some soft klance things
  • the castle is really cold at night, so a lot of the time keith will slip into lance’s room for warmth.
    • he doesn’t know how, but lance is always very warm and soft. (keith suspects this is because lance is like sunshine: glowing and radiant and full of life and energy. but he’d never say that out loud, because that’s like, super lame.)
    • and keith finds space really, really cold; living in the desert in dry, hot, awful heat for an entire year with no AC, and then suddenly being thrown into the void??? yeah, he’s not dealing well with the transition
    • it’s kind of a Thing between them. neither of them speak about it. they never speak about the way keith will slide under the covers beside lance, or the way lance just instinctively snuggles closer and throws an arm over keith’s waist, or the way keith’s entire being thaws when he sees how peaceful lance looks when he’s sleeping.
    • once they’re finally Official™ keith will make a point to tell lance how pretty he is when he’s sleeping, and lance will fluster and reply with a stuttered “yeah well–you– you’re pretty all the time, so suck it.”
    • (they’re both blushing messes for like, an entire week after this)
  • lance doesn’t deal well with quiet, and most of the time, that’s what space is. there’s no background hum of electricty– altean technology is completely soundless, they’ve discovered– or of wind or rain or family or anything. it’s so quiet it’s deafening, and lance always feels like he’s suffocating.
    • more often than not, it’s hunk who notices first; they grew up together, so he can tell as soon as lance is starting to panic. he’ll usually take lance somewhere private and just talk to him until he calms down.
    • keith notices this and wants to help, too. he’s not really good at talking, but lance is his boyfriend, and he hates feeling like he’s useless.
    • so one time lance starts getting really quiet and tense and he’s starting to shake gently and hunk is Nowhere To Be Found, keith is the only one there, so he does the first thing he can think of and just (hesitantly) pulls lance into a hug and starts rambling some senseless story about a really cool lizard he found in the desert one day.
    • eventually lance is shaking harder and keith is about to just go get hunk because oh god he’s making it worse but then lance looks up at him and his eyes are rimmed red from crying but he’s smiling and laughing
    • keith melts and chokes on his tongue and loses his ability to create words, but that’s okay, because lance is hugging him back and kissing his cheeks and whispering “thank you” and “i love you” over and over again.
  • lance gets keith to do a face mask with him like, at least twice a space-equivalent of a week. 
    • keith doesn’t really care all that much about skincare, obviously. he’s just a ‘splash water on your face and go’ kinda guy. when lance learns this, he is horrified.
      • “you don’t even wash?” 
      • “well i used to use soap sometimes but–”
      • “like hand soap???”
      • “yeah. like dove or whatever shiro had around.”
      • shiro used dove????”
      • “yeah i guess? i didn’t pay attention to what he washed his face with lance what the hell”
      • “HEATHENS, BOTH OF YOU”
    • so yeah lance is deeply offended. he’s like, “you’ve offended me, my mother, and ALL of my ancestors with your CARELESS ANTICS” and keith snorts and pins his hair back and says “then teach me, you moron” and lance is shook and goes “oh. yes. okay”
    • he somehow managed to create a few different face masks with space goo + ingredients that mimic like, clay, shea butter, coconut oil, etc. from around the universe and he slathers this muddy looking one all over keith’s face.
      • “for detoxification, retexturising, and radiance,” says lance.
      • “alright,” says keith, who doesn’t know what that means.
    • it has to stay on for a half hour so they’ll spend that time just laying there shoulder to shoulder on lance’s bed, sometimes holding hands, talking about whatever, until keith starts grimacing and saying “its getting all hard and dry and i can’t move my face” and lance says “that’s normal” and keith looks at him, horrified
      • lance: starts laughing
      • keith, trying desperately not to: STOP don’t make me laugh MY FACE IS CRACKING
      • lance: laughs harder

Concept: What do you mean your name isn’t Dad?

Lunch time was approaching and you had your hands full. You had a five year old yacking away in your ear about absolutely nothing, a screaming newborn making a fuss in the swing, a nine year old and seven year old going toe to toe on where to sit at the table, an eleven year old tuned out to the world with her eyes glued to her phone, not being any help, and a husband who had vanished from the chaos.

You took pride in Niall being your husband. He was a generous and affectionate partner, a kind and compassionate father to your four daughter and one son. He was how every father should be with their children; Patient and funny, loving and adventurous, relaxed and entertaining. He almost never missed a second of anything, including the tea parties and the dress up and playing with dolls, bandaging the scraped knees and kissing the bruises and soothing the fevers. Your friends complained about their husbands being useless, lazy, and turning a tad bit mean. It brought you just a bit of pleasure to rub it in their faces of how great Niall was in every area.

You snapped your fingers at the arguing children, telling them to get in their seats and stop the bickering. You instructed the toddler to do the same, raising your eyebrow as a warning when she stomped her foot because she wanted to be as attached to you as possible and have your undivided attention. You stuck a pacifier in the baby’s mouth, only for it to be spat back out. 

Just as Jesus told the waves to be still, Niall walked into the room and all the commotion seized. Juliet and Hannah stuck their lips back in, Katie’s incoming tears stopped, Vivian had her phone face down on the table, and Eddie’s reddened face turned to its natural rosy complexion. He cooed happily at the sight of his old man. The silence was louder than the actual chaos. Niall scanned the kitchen incredulously, wondering why all had fallen all of a sudden. You tried not to huff. Niall was everyone’s favorite, your kids were eager to please him, but they always cut up a notch when he wasn’t around.

Niall offered a hand and you graciously took it. You sat at the table with the kids, Eddie cradled in your arms as you fed him and directed your husband from all the way across the kitchen on how to cut the sandwiches, explaining that only one shouldn’t have crust on it. Hannah hated crust, she even hated the word crust. You didn’t get it, it was all just bread. Niall snickered, claiming he knew what to do. 

Plates of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sided with potato chips were passed around the table. They all dove in as soon as their plates were set in front of them.

“Slow down, can’t have you all choking at once.” You heard Niall joke. 

You didn’t look up to know the girls were stuffing their faces. Your eyes were settled on the infant in your arms. Eddie looked up at you with crystal blue eyes, as clear as his fathers. He looked the most like Niall out of the five.

From outside of the house, you could hear a vehicle. It was almost hard to miss, the sound of the breaks squealing all through the neighborhood, along with the sound of your neighbors mailboxes being slammed shut. It was that time of the day when the mailman, or woman, did their rounds. Katie jumped in her seat. She loved the mailman, or mail woman. She often told you that’s what she wanted to be when she grew up. Retrieving the mail from the mailbox was actually listed as a household chore. Katie lived and breathed for whenever it was her turn to go out and get the mail from the mailbox.

“Mail’s here!” She jumped up from her seat, abandoning her food, and sprinted to the front door. It was useless for you to tell her to stop and get back in her seat because she passed you in a millisecond. 

Unfortunately for Katie, Niall was a lot faster. He caught her from under her arms and carried her back, plopping back into her seat and scooting her close to the table as if she weighted nothing.

“Not today, Missy Ma’am.” Niall said as he did so. “Sit and eat.”

Katie put on a subtle frown and went back to eating her food. Juliet quickly swallowed her food to speak.

“Daddy, can I go get it this time?” She asked. 

She almost never got the mail, the job almost never went to anyone else except Katie. Juliet’s main chore was to put toys away, including her sisters and now her little brothers. Though Eddie was just born a few weeks ago, he didn’t have as many toys as she did. For Eddie, Juliet dragged his swing out of the way and made sure it was turned off to save the battery.

“Next time, my Jewel. Eat your lunch. You can do it tomorrow.” Niall promised her. 

“Da, there’s no mail on Sundays!” Hannah reminded him. Niall gently slapped his forehead.

“Right you are. On Monday, then.” Niall nodded and winked. 

He quickly put on his slippers and stepped out to get the mail from the box. In less than a minute, he returned with white envelopes in hand. Niall sorted through them as he locked up and kicked her slippers off. Most of them were bills addressed to Niall, and a magazine for you. Niall set it gently in front of you, his mail next to yours. 

The kitchen was peaceful as everyone ate, Eddie drifting off to sleep and you mindlessly looking at the pictures in the magazine. Vivian was on her phone, as per usual, barely speaking a word but her food was gone. Niall took her plate and washed it. You lightly frowned and complained how there was nothing interesting in your subscribed magazine anymore and reminded yourself to cancel your subscription. Hannah wanted to know if she could read it, and then Juliet asked if she could when Hannah was done. You gave the magazine up, Juliet sitting oddly in her seat to look at the same pages Hannah was looking through.

There wasn’t much conversation, everyone occupied in their own little world. You snuggled Eddie just a little bit longer, rubbing the top of his head and feeling his fine hair against your fingertips. Niall was looking out the kitchen window, examining the backyard. He’d have to cut the grass soon. 

Katie’s eyes absentmindedly looked down at the envelopes that were rested next to her. She knew her address by heart. You and Niall stressed how important it was for her to know where she lived, also her parents phone numbers. Her teacher taught a lesson about it in school, associated with how to properly write and address a letter. Katie recognized the numbers, the street name, and the postal code instantly. Then she was stumped. There was a name on the front that she did not know, a first and last name. The last name she also knew because it was hers. Was she missing something?

There was mommy and daddy, Vivian, Hannah, Juliet, and Eddie, and herself, running through everyone in the household. She sat to herself for a moment, swimming in a pool of confusion. Katie was dying of curiosity. 

“Who’s Ni-ale?” She asked out loud. 

If it wasn’t for the sleeping baby in your arms, you would have burst out into laughter. This was funny for two reasons. The first reason because Niall having his name mispronounced, whether on accident or on purpose, was his number one pet peeve. If it was an accident, Niall would give an awkward chuckle and and correct the mistake. If it was done on purpose, he would huff loudly and ignore it, sometimes shoot a sarcastic remark back or something just as annoying. You particularly loved to get under Niall’s skin that way. Neal, Noel, Nail, Napoleon, Nickle you’ve called him everything except Niall. It drove him absolutely nuts.

The second reason why you found this absolutely hilarious because of the shock factor when kids find out that their parents have their own names besides mom and dad. You and Niall have already been through this when Vivian was much younger. She cried all day, claiming she felt lied to. As of right now, she was sucked into the world of Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat, whatever the hell she was so occupied with. 

Since Vivian, you’ve obviously have had three other children, and they were all about to get an earth shattering reality check.

“Who?” You asked, pretending not to understand what Katie was saying.

“Who is Nay-all?” Katie read, to the best of her ability, straight off the envelope. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh.

Niall’s head had turned from daydreaming out of the window to look at you, giving you a discrete stink eye as you silently died of laughter. 

“I believe that says Niall.” He corrected. It was very hard to get mad at his daughter, one of the brightest stars in his life. Niall was generally slow to anger, and if he learned one thing from having five children and a four of them being daughters, it was how to be patient. 

“Who’s that?” Suddenly Hannah and Juliet were engaged in conversation. Their heads turned to Niall for an explanation.

“That’s me, that’s my name.”

Juliet looked to Hannah, as if she was silently asking “Did you know this?” Hannah looked back at her, widening her eyes and signaling “No, I didn’t.” Katie blinked, looking down at the envelope and back at her dad.

“No it’s not.” She said practically. You accidentally let a giggle slip, admiring the scene unfolding in front of you. 

“Yes it is, darlin’. That’s my real name.” Niall confirmed, hiding a smile. 

It was obvious that this was a serious moment to them, but Niall couldn’t help but smile at his girls when they were learning something new, or in general. Smiling in their faces and laughing at them would be considered rude to him.

“Who calls you that?” Juliet wanted to know. She sure didn’t call him that. Everyone always called him Da, Dad, or Daddy.

“Ev’rybody does.” Niall shrugged. “Even mom does.”

“Why?” Hannah questioned.

“Because that’s my real name.” Niall said.

“Has your name always been Neal?” Katie carefully asked, still coming to grips with this new information.

“For as long as I can remember, and it’s Niall. Not Neal.” 

“Naile.”

“No, Niall.”

“Ni-ale.”

Ni-all.

You sat back and watched the three gang up on their dad, pondering with questions about his identity. You called him Niall in front of the girls, all the time you thought, but probably not enough for them to pick up on. You mostly used dad or daddy. There was no way you could keep holding Eddie in your arms without waking him up from your stifling giggles. You sat him in the swing.

“Who gave you that name?” Hannah asked.

“My parents did, as we gave you your names.” Niall mentioned, a good example. They understood that.

“Why don’t we call you Niall?” Juliet pondered.

“Because children shouldn’t call their parents by their first name.” He explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, they just shouldn’t.” Niall shrugged.

“Can we call you Niall now?” Katie was sitting on her knees, hoping that she could.

“No, don’t do that.” 

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t.” 

“Why?”

“I’m not gonna play the Why Game with you lot.” Niall chuckled. Katie laughed, she had your laugh. It was a beautiful sound, his children laughing was music to Niall’s ears, but not quite as breathtaking as the laughs theirs originated from.

You sat in your seat, taking in the debate between a three kids and a man going on forty. It made your heart swell with love and affection for everyone in the room, seeing how fascinated the girls were with Niall and seeing how gentle and patient he was with them, even when he was outnumbered and faced with one of his ticks. 

“I already knew that.” Vivian finally chimed in. 

“Ah, she speaks!” You teased. 

“I know mommy’s name too.” She mentioned. The trio turned, the spotlight now on you.

Vivian was the one who wanted to prove herself, to prove what she already knew and learned and what she could do. She never missed a moment where she could give her two cents on something. 

“Let’s see if you guys can guess it.” You offered. Now it was Niall’s turn to watch a lifechanging scene unfold.

You motioned for the magazine that was still open and sitting in front of Hannah. She passed it to you. You flipped to the cover and slid it in front of Katie, pointed to where it was addressed to you. Katie looked over the words, pronouncing slowly as she did so. Finally, she got it, and she got it right.

“You’re absolutely right. Got it on the first try!” You praised her, patting her on the top of her head. 

“That’s a pretty name, I like it.” Juliet complimented. You humbly thanked her.

“See, I knew that. I also know your middle names, and mommy’s maiden name as well. You told me once, and I remembered.” Vivian slightly bragged.

“Let’s not get carried away with the names.” Niall jumped in. 

Niall rounded the table to adjust Katie in her seat, who had shifted to sitting on her knees and practically climbed onto the table, probably too excited to sit still. She ate neatly, her sitting habits were a mess. He tapped her shoulders, reminding her to sit on her bottom like an actual human being. Niall scooted her closer to the table again and adjusted her plate, with a sandwich that had one bite in it and all of her potato chips gone, in front of her. 

“Okie dokie, Niall.” She snickered. Niall tsked.

“Very funny. Eat your food.” 

it calls me

for @pemasea and @preatorpercy - i’m so sorry it’s taken so long and still isn’t finished, but here’s a start on that ariel and moana fic for you!!!


“I am Moana of Motunui. You will board my boat and restore the heart to Te Fiti.” She pulled the sail around, grunting slightly with the effort, and repeated the mantra again. “I am Moana of Motunui. You will board my boat and -”

Something interrupted the chant that had been running through her head since she’d set out on this voyage. A voice in the distance, high and sweet and - singing?

Moana froze. When she concentrated, she could clearly hear the song, carrying over the waves. It couldn’t have been that far away. She mustn’t have been so utterly surrounded by water as she’d thought. The voice was heavenly, sweeter than anything she’d ever heard before, and Moana felt drawn to it by something beyond her control. The same longing she felt whenever she stood on the shore of Motunui surged within her again now, this time pulling her over the sea and towards the strangely beautiful sound. Barely hesitating, she changed course and headed straight for the voice. 

Keep reading

astro coven au (knk)

masterlist

  • Basically your token immortal vampires
    • Amount of sparkles depends on how much Heejun has had to drink
      • Whoever said vampires don’t take alcohol’s probably lying to you KNK loves beer and soju as much as the next person
      • Occasionally sparkles if he’s in a good mood or just drunk in general
      • Heejun has no idea how the biology behind this works either he requests you consult a biologist and tell him if you’re able to find out
  • KNK’s “initiation” mark is a golden triangle behind their right ear
    • MJ used to love it as a kid
    • When any member of KNK carried him in their arms he’d always rest his head against their right shoulder so he could look at it reflecting dimly
    • And when he turned fourteen he clamoured to have one so Jihun sat him down and kissed his forehead and gave him a teddy bear to hug to bear with the burning
    • And then pressed his thumb behind MJ’s ear and watched as a dull gold triangle took shape behind his son’s ear
    • MJ blinking the tears of pain away then beaming up at Jihun because “does this mean i’m really part of your family now?”
    • Inseong didn’t cry or anything, no indeed nope he maintains that if you don’t have pictures you have no proof nope nope nopE
  • Fun fact: actually can use mirrors
    • I didn’t know this either lmao
    • To summarise, mirrors were made from silver in the past, which, because they were a metal of purity, could not reflect “evil” stuff like vampires aka KNK
    • But as cheaper mirrors started being made, more and more mirrors use aluminium as the reflective backing, which apparently is an all-inclusive, diversity-loving, non-discriminating metal
    • Conclusion: thanks to aluminium, Inseong can now finger-gun his reflection every day and tell himself how handsome he is
    • And smol baby MJ could also trail behind him and finger-gun what he could see of bright eyes and messy hair and the very top of his nose in the bottom of the mirror too
  • Basically brought MJ up
    • It’s honestly because of MJ that they now have a kitchen fully installed
    • Although in the later years of living with them MJ did most of the cooking for himself
    • You know, because he needs actual nutrition
    • More under MJ’s profile
  • MJ’s source of blood
    • he mostly scares Sanha into submission by threatening to send him over to Youjin
      • I mean, Youjin is pretty scary when he isn’t smiling gummily
      • Once MJ asked Sanha to hop over to KNK’s coven house get his order of 7-month aged blood for this one ritual and when Sanha showed up knocking on KNK’s door he stood outside for 10 minutes until he realised Youjin was standing behind him all along and just smiling very confusedly at Sanha
      • When he realised, he screamed so loudly in shock Inseong had to run up from the basement where he was taking inventory to see what was going on
      • All he saw was a pale noodle with Astro’s initiation mark screaming very loudly at Youjin and he decided Not to Question it and just save the poor boy by dumping MJ’s order into his arms
      • Only to have Sanha feel the warm squishy bags of blood in his arms and panic and nearly drop them
    • MJ now either gets Heejun to deliver the blood to him or sends Bin or Jinjin over to collect it rip
    • but yes they supply blood to a couple different blood ritualists around their area 
      • they specialise in making blood that needs special stuff like 
        • 8month barrel-aged blood 
        • or like blood infused with certain herbs (that Jinjin sells them at a discount for)
        • or blood rested with different charms (that they used to get from Vixx but now get from the Astro coven)
        • or blood that somehow needs treatment for whatever ritual it’s meant to be used in they really don’t care as long as you give them specific instructions 
      • and by ‘making’ i mean:
        • they all go out to collect blood together 
        • Youjin does the processing and purifying
        • Heejun does all the adding stuff like he knows how much herb to add per litre of blood and stuff 
        • Inseong does inventory and tells Heejun what’s they’re running low on and works out what they should use their next batches of blood for
        • Jihun takes orders and labels the finished packets for delivery 
        • Seungjun (and baby MJ) does delivery 
        • speaking of Seungjun
  • Seungjun loves loves loves loves LOVES Sanha
    • I’m not even exaggerating this is actually irl he hugs Sanha every time he sees him like
    • Me too Seungjun me too
    • It’s pretty funny sometimes because Sanha’d just be bumming around on the porch or be in the garden helping Jinjin out and
    • Seungjun would just appear like “hEY SANHA”
    • And fold him into his arms
    • You know what I mean like that one photo of seungjun just going for it
    • And Sanha would squeak and try to escape
    • But obviously in vain like mm alrighty son you tried your best but you can’t escape seUNGJUN’S LOVE
    • And it’S REALLY FUNNY BECAUSE:
  • Sanha’s dead terrified of Youjin
    • Something Youjin Cannot Understand because he loves this tol child so much?????? he loves all of Astro sm????????
    • Would willingly feed Sanha chicken and laugh at his silly jokes and be the victim of all his pranks?????
    • Which is more than he can say for the rest of KNK
    • But he accidentally smiled at Sanha with his fangs out the first time they met and poor Sanha hasn’t recovered from the shock poor baby
  • Stores their blood in a clime-controlled basement 
    • it’s hilarious bc when they got it installed they pretended to be a sommelier clubhouse 
      • and so they had to do a ton of reading to assume the part
      • but of course Heejun suggests that “after reading about it you have to put it into practice, don’t you?” 
      • cue Inseong going out to buy different bottles of wine and Heejun getting all drunk and sparkly 
      • MJ trying a little bit of wine and finding out he’s a happy talkative but also very sleepy drunk 
      • Jihun ushering all his drunk vampires upstairs to bed before carrying MJ to bed and shaking his head and downing his own last glass 
    • it’s a whole underground set-up that’s protected by tons of sigils
      • you know, just in case the police come knocking one day they’ll only find a wine cellar 
      • they have a bathroom and stuff down there too so they can wash and clean up all traces of blood before coming back upstairs 
      • also to wash up before they go in they may be vampires but they’re also hygienic okay!!
  • goes over to eat dinner with Astro a lot 
    • and by ‘eat dinner’ you know what I mean
    • Astro and KNK sitting around the dinner table talking and gossiping 
    • KNK drinking out of opaque bags with black straws 
    • sometimes they have alcohol in there instead of blood but don’t tell Astro 
    • Astro knows but they find KNK’s keeping up of their pretence of not drinking alcohol around minors pretty hilarious
    • KNKstro sitting in the living room around the TV battling it out on mario kart 
      • Sanha screaming every time the runs into a banana peel 
      • Youjin totally smashing all of KNK but letting Sanha win 
      • Heejun thinks it’s totally unfair but he’s also so weak for Sanha so really
      • pls love KNK Youjin that’s all your coven asks

wow i’m so weak for astro x knk interactions

Don’t you see, he says,
don’t you see my heart is bleeding, raw;
it’s oozing guilt, remorse, regret-
restart, I wish I could
start over, make it right, this time –
but time cannot be turned, so here I am
a broken thing, a shell of who I ought to be
a monster, don’t you see? 

He says: you’re not a monster, trust me, kid
He says: takes one to know one – you’re not it
He says: come on, I thought that you were smart
you’re human, with a human heart 

Don’t you see, he says,
don’t you see my skin is wearing paper-thin;
it’s almost see-through, all those dark and twisted
things inside, I wish I could
tear open, claw and cleanse my veins, my blood
is tarnished, bringing death to everything
I touch but sparing me – I am no good for you,
I’m poison, don’t you see? 

He says: I died for you before – remember, kid?
He says: yet here I am and I don’t give a shit
He says: you know I’ll take whatever you can give
it’s you and me and it’s our chance to live 

Don’t you see, he says,
don’t you see there’s nothing I want more than
beg for you to stay, to find a home, a life, a second
chance with me; I wish I could
accept that everything you say is true
but I know better, I don’t ask
for things I don’t deserve; you’re better off
without me, don’t you see? 

He says
(with tears shining in his eyes)
He says: just think about it, wouldn’t
it be nice for once to take that step
we’re both so scared to take
and trust this fragile thing between us would not break?
He says: I am that monster you’ve condemned yourself to be
I don’t deserve you, don’t you see? 

Don’t you dare, he says,
(and takes a step)
don’t you fucking dare! 

(the space between them is no longer there)

3

the wolf among us + colours:  episode 5  →  cry wolf

i don’t know… it seems like no matter what i do, it’s just not enough for her. or anyone. i just— i go out there and i do my job. i put my life on the line, i get shot at! i do what has to be done, for them! but at the end of the day i’m still the bad guy.

The lights are dim, their glow casting soft shadows across sweaty skin. The silk sheets are gentle, pooling around Magnus’ waist as he sits up, fully aware of Alec’s eyes on him.

Alec watches him lazily from where he’s lying on his stomach, head pillowed on muscular arms, the soft light making his hazel eyes gleam. The sweat sheen on Magnus’ skin is his doing, he put that there, with over exaggerated rolling hips and desperate kisses that stole the air from both their lungs.

Alec follows Magnus with his eyes, reluctant to move from his comfortable position in the middle of the huge bed, but he can’t deny the surge of want when bronze skin shines in the low light. Magnus moves with a grace and finesse that only centuries of practice could achieve, disappearing into the ensuite and out of Alec’s eyesight.

Alec takes a few moments, feeling wholly content and happy, replaying the vision of waking next to Magnus over in his head.

He could see himself doing that forever.

kcg4  asked:

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.

For @dragonbradbury

If Dean had to choose, getting caught making out with Cas in the janitor’s closet by Jody Mills was probably the best he could hope for.


Nobody else would’ve been as chill—Ms. Rosen probably would’ve told the whole damn school, what with her big mouth, Henriksen would have straight up given them detention—and Crowley would’ve probably kicked their asses right then and there. So, considering, Dean guesses he’s pretty lucky.

“Alright,” she says, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Out.”


Cas throws Dean a sheepish look, then quickly disentangles himself from Dean’s arms, both of them clambering out of the cramped closet and spilling out into the hall in an altogether ungraceful way. Dean clears his throat, wiping his mouth with one hand, trying to comb his hair back into place with the other. Mrs. Mills crosses her arms.

“You boys’re supposed to be in class, am I correct?”

Cas twists his fingers together, looking down at his scuffed sneakers.

“Yes,” he says meekly. Despite the complete awkwardness of the situation, Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes. Since when is Cas such a blushing rule-follower—

He gets an elbow to the side, and Dean hunches over, letting out a soft oof.

He looks up. Both Castiel and Mills are staring at him, her with an eyebrow raised, Cas with a pointed look. Dean nods hastily.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

He throws Cas a sharp glare.

“We got—”

He swallows.

“Distracted,” he finishes lamely.

Jody looks between the two of them.

“I can see that.”

Dean feels Cas shift his weight, knocking him slightly with his shoulder, and Dean can’t help a little grin. Yes, okay, Jody is a teacher—but she’s a friggin’ substitute—and her power over the two of them is basically next to nothing. They’ll get a slap on the wrist, a scolding probably, a warning not to do it again; and then everything will go back to normal. And inevitably, next week Dean and Cas will be in the janitor’s closet again, yanking at each other’s clothes and trying to shush any groan that gets too loud.

“We’ll just be on our way,” Cas says calmly, grabbing Dean’s arm. He smirks at him as they turn their back to her, heading off back to class.

“Hold it!”


Dean pauses. Beside him, he sees Cas freeze too.

Hm. This is unexpected.

He turns, putting on his most charming smile.

“What’s up, teach?”

Mrs. Mills shakes her head.

“Uh uh. Don’t think you’re getting away with this little stunt. You’re going to the principal’s office.”

Dean’s grin slides off his face.

“Oh, no,” he whispers. “Please no.”


There’s no way. She couldn’t send them to the principal’s office—Dean would take literally any other punishment.

“Mrs. Mills—”

“C’mon,” she says. “Let’s move it.”

She puts a hand on Cas’s shoulder and steers him down the hall, and Dean has no choice but to follow. Seriously, she can’t know how absolutely terrible of an idea this is—but there’s an irritatingly smug look on Mrs. Mills’ face that tells Dean she knows exactly what’s she’s doing. Dean considers running.

Then he remembers Mills is also a retired sheriff, and she’d probably chase him down and tackle him before he even gets around the corner. Dean swallows.

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