What I think about all MBTI types from what I have observed so far part 1- NJs
What the title says. I had some close relations with almost every type so far I think, or had enough observation to make a post on them. Tell me if you see anything inaccurate.
INTJ: They are actually fairly sensitive when you get under their Te resting bitch face. They tend to be rather soft hearted, despite giving a reverse aura. One of my classmates is an INTJ in Ni-Fi loop with Se grip showing now and then- And even if this causes her to feel not at ease with most of the class, getting mocked, I remember her defending a girl despite acting rather asshole-ish to her before (Though, from what I have gathered, she often times tries to make a joke at those times yet her PoLR Fe is seriously horrible. She isn’t aware of it when she does something really socially inappropriate. Even my Inferior Fe facepalms, it can be that bad. I try to translate things for her though, so we tend to get along well despite tension between her and rest of the class.) Not all INTJs are as obvious though. There is also this small thing I realized while I was checking forums- Most INTJs tend to have a different view on functions and their relations than INTPs. Check any forum and if there is an INTP and an INTJ arguing, chances are they actually define and interpret whole system in on entirely different way. More often than not good willed, with their Ni often hid behind Te, they can be and tend to fairly good at sciences though I see that most tends to prefer art (from painting to playing an instrument or writing) more than cold hard sciences. It feels like they often show their Ni-Fi in such areas, perhaps? Their Se often seems to draw them towards ESFPs, or at least makes them have shadow moments under Se grip. Unlike stereotypes, they are often simply off to doing their own thing- They don’t really care about taking over the world more than their current project- Be it a story they are writing or scientific research they are doing or perhaps trying to figure out their current crush, who knows?
ENTJ: Okay, so we all know that they are dictators of the MBTI, right? Wrong. Actually, more often than not, their Inferior Fi kinda makes them “protector of underdog”. While they are striving to achieve their goals, I find that they actually rather like it when people asks for help and they can help. (Given that situation actually is challenging and the person asking wasn’t too lazy to do a ten seconds google search or something. This would just annoy them, I suppose?) It might or might not be true but I saw a few healthier ENTJs whom kept saying that as they get older, they spend more time with young people becase they learnt most they can from people at their age- Their Auxilary Ni and Dominant Te drives them to understand and use new things and technologies- Which can be done easier if you interact with people who grow up with those new things. Their tertiary Se seems to give them a love for aesthetics as well? They also can seem scary at times to other types, but as long as they are not choking down their Fi too hard, most of them are fairly nice people, despite stereotypes. They can be rather harsh on themselves. It is okay to feel and it doesn’t mean you are weak if you feel things, guys/girls/whatever you identify as. I like how you are actually quite open to new ideas as long as one can prove or give a good reasoning for it. Can be quite ruthless and machiavellian if unhealthy, but when healthier they truly can bring change to a society- or make their own dream company.
ENFJ: This might be simply me thing, but I often get a manipulative wave from them. They are one of the easiest types for me to recognize- Their Dominant Fe and Auxilary Ni softens their voice in a certain way that I can’t explain through text. They often have smiley faces and I sincerely believe that they mean well, but when combined with Ni, they can come off as a bit… fake. Their Fe-Se can sometimes seem narcisstic too, despite all the stereotypes showing them as angels from the heavens. Their love for Se often shows as much as it does with ENTJs, yet Fe seems to add a different “feeling” to their Ni-flavoured aesthetics/taste. A bit more on the morbid side, perhaps? While healthy, they can keep many groups together and be an incredibly inspiring leader, while when unhealthier they simply manipulate others to survive/get what they need. With males, I see that they get often underestimated due to softness they carry outside, but they can read people fairly well, so I would not suggest thinking little of them, really. Their Inferior Ti actually pokes its’ head at times, but perhaps due to Ni, they often tend to see “only good solution” to things than multiple ones. They actually need affirmation and trust in them so much that it can be crazy, which is likely the reason if they ever end up coming manipulative. Not exactly out of bad intention, more of security thing from what I understood? They also seem to hold rules in a high regard- the system they are in.
INFJ: While, if they desire, they could be as manipulative as ENFJs, they tend to prefer not doing that unless it is too necessary. (ENFJs may use Ni to get their Fe quota met, but INFJs have their Ni as their main process. They can use Ni-Fe for manipulation but this would be more of long term thing for a specific goal than simply be loved and other Fe goals.) They often pick an interest in reading and writing just like INTJs, they are also rather interested in politics/power structures to some point from what I see? Though, again, nature is prefered over such structures if possible. In their writing, you can see their readers shine through- A close INFJ friend of mine often addresses struggles of her readers as well as throwing in some certain inner jokes- Ni also tends to make her give answers earlier but not the question- She likes BAM! The truth revealed! A bit too much. Like INTJs, they tend to have strong guts feelings. Also rather mother bear-ish. Not just because theya re FJs and stereotypes says so- But because they can see what people feel due to Aux Fe and dominant Ni helps quite a bit for seeing things from other’s angle. Tertiary Ti makes them quite the perfectionist- though it is often hidden due to them mostly applying it to themselves. Inferior Se comes and goes in a similiar fashion to INTJs. They may be aware of really subtle details like how many steps a stairs have, or how many minutes does it take for their schoolbus to reach from X to Y and knowing the time down to the minute without checking their watch to simply wanting to burn everything they worked so far on- With INFJs it is often connections they made, with INTJs it takes more of self destructive stance due to tertiary Fi. Fairly afraid of being corrupted. Their Fe seems like a headache at times- It makes them sensitive and aware of other people’s feelings and Ni-Ti perfectionism might end up making them try hard to fit into their self image of how they think they should be/desire to be. They actually have strong moral convictions- Even if they tend to keep it to themselves, they often can’t help but spill it out if they see someone going againist it painfully hard? Overall, nice people though they can be one of the most paranoid at times due to Dominant Ni.
I think that’s all I have for NJs? Again, tell me if I got something wrong.
You grew up in Northeast New Jersey, so taking the bus back from NYC and your hometown wasn’t as hard as many might think. You soon heard about this new musical that many were anxious to see, and even your friends were constantly telling you about it. You ignored them, of course, because Broadway felt like an opera to you. Listening to showtunes and watching a show about one of the founding fathers just was not your cup of tea.
“Come on, Y/N! Just one song, please!” You friend begged, holding out their phone to you. You sighed, sipping on your coffee. It was freezing outside, below zero. You wore the biggest coat you owned, with giant earmuffs you found in one of your boxes.
You recently moved back to NJ, tired of the city life in Manhattan. Your family was right; living in the city was for people who were always on the go. Since you were the opposite of that, a writer, bumping into people in the streets every day, passersby’ stepping on your toes, was not the most entertaining thing you’ve done. Living there for four months was enough for you.
“No.” You grumbled, looking out the window of the local coffee shop. Your friend continued to whine about the stupid musical, and you eventually gave in, putting on the earbuds that she gave you. She played the opening song, called Alexander Hamilton. You smirked at the cheesiness, but pressed play.
“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean…”
The song trailed on, and you bumped your head to the beat unconsciously, listening to the lyrics. You were surprised on how it sounded more like a mainstream song than a play. You didn’t notice your friend grinning at you, doing a little fist pump.
After the song finished, you gave her back her phone, sipping on your coffee once more. She looked at you, expecting a reaction. You shrugged, playing with your straw.
“It was alright.” Her eyes widened at your response. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying that you actually liked it, so denying it was the best way to go.
“Alright? It’s amazing, Y/N! Lin Manuel worked on this play for years, it’s anything but alright.” She mocked your tone, and you frowned at her.
“I told you, I don’t like Broadway shows. They’re boring and follow the same theme. I’m not interested.” She put her face in her hands, shaking her head slowly. You grinned at her actions, bringing your gaze back to the scene outside. Everyone seemed to be always on the move; headphones in and ignoring the world around them. You pitied them; they will never understand the world outside their screens.
“How am I friends with you?” She mumbled.
The rest of the time you were enjoying your break, she told you all the facts of the musical, even showing you some of the cast members. You couldn’t help but stare longer at the man who created the musical; Lin Manuel Miranda.
He was handsome, really handsome. You made a mental note of searching him up later, when your friend wasn’t bugging you about some tickets that she got. She convinced you to join her to see the musical, since your other friend cancelled on her last minute.
“If I go see this with you, would you stop trying to make me listen to the rest of the soundtrack?” You asked, throwing away the empty container into the recycling bin. She nodded quickly, to the point where you wondered if she gave herself whiplash.
“See you tomorrow!” She skipped away, trying to catch the next bus to bring her back home to Manhattan. You looked the train back to your town in NJ, taking less than twenty minutes to get there. You dragged yourself up the stairs, and into the apartment, closing the door behind you.
Later that night, you researched Lin Manuel Miranda. You were surprised that he wrote other plays, and won various awards for things that he created. It was a shock that he was single, his good looks and achievements made you think he’d be married and have children already. As you stalked this man online, your eyes began to close, blinking slowly. Before you fell asleep, you clicked on a link. Your eyes drooped closed, your face falling on your keyboard.
The sun shined in your face, causing you to blink quickly, glaring through your semi open lids. You groaned, rolling over. You reached for your phone, feeling a plant tangled in your fingers instead. You blinked, pushing yourself off the grass.
You were sleeping outside.
On the grass.
You looked around you, realizing that you were in an open field. It was eerily quiet, not even the birds chirping or the scurrying of squirrels climbing trees. A tent a few hundred feet away caught your attention, so you decided to approach it. You were still dressed in your sweats and tank top, what you thought you wore to bed. Before you reached the tent, a man came out, dressed in what seemed like a colonial uniform from the 1800s. His back was to you, but you noticed that his brown hair was long, pulled back into a hair tie. For some reason, your stomach churned staring at the man.
Did you stumble across some revolutionary reenactment? Is that why the man looked threatening, like he would shoot you at first glance? You searched your mind for some reason as to why you were outside, but the last thing you remembered was sitting next to your laptop.
You went against every instinct that told you not to go to the man, pushing your feet forward. He stopped moving, and you hesitated. He held his musket tight in his hand, quickly turning around to face you. He pointed his gun at your chest, an angry look on his face. You raised your hands quickly, shaking.
His eyes met yours, and he lowered his gun, confused. You gasped at the face in front of you.
It was Lin-Manuel Miranda. The famous guy you were researching last night.
“Miss, what are you doing out here?” He questioned, his hands still tight on the gun. You stumbled on your words, star-struck.
“Uh, I’m, um…” He put his gun in his holder on the side of him. His eyes were stuck on your body, the heat rising in his face. You wondered if he never saw a woman in a tank top before. “Excuse me, my eyes are up here.”
His eyes quickly made it back to your face, clearing his throat. “You did not answer my question, miss.” He replied, standing up straight.
“I’m sorry, but I have no clue why I’m out here. I woke up on this field. Maybe I sleep walk?” You said, lowering your arms. The leaves rustled on nearby trees, causing you to shiver, holding your arms tight against his chest. Lin realized how cold you were, and took off his overcoat, passing it to you. You thanked him, quickly throwing it on your body.
“Do you know where your home is? It must be close by.” You looked around, recognizing nothing in the vicinity. You turned back to Lin, and he had a small smile on his face.
“Well, I live in an apartment complex near 42nd street. I don’t remember seeing any open fields in the middle of the city.” You mumbled. He stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. He chuckled softly. “What?” You questioned.
“Are you okay, miss? I never heard of this forty-second street or an apartment complex? We’re in Virginia.” He stated, crossing his arms. “Were you sent by Laurens to play a joke on me? Wait, are you trying to seduce me?” He moved his hand back to the gun on his side.
This guy must be crazy. He lives in NYC, he grew up in Washington heights. For crying aloud, the Richard Rogers theater is right in the heart of Manhattan. You glanced around him, noticing more tents around. Wait, there was more than just ten.
There were hundreds.
You stared at Lin.
His outfit seemed quite authentic, to the dirt under his nails to the blood-stained pants. You don’t recall seeing the pictures online having red marks on the pants. He looked young, too, maybe in his early twenties. Not the man you recall seeing on the internet that was in his late thirties. He was staring at you as well, still cautious.
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Alexander Hamilton.” He said simply, with a small bit of pride in his voice. You still fought off the idea that this may not be the time you were supposed to be in.
“Do you know who Elizabeth Schuyler is?” He shook his head, his foot tapping against the ground.
“What is a television set? A laptop?” He frowned.
“Are you telling me about a new weapon the British created? Who are you, miss?” He took out his gun from the position on his hip. “Who sent you here? And I’m not going to ask again.” You realized what’s going on.
“Tell me the year.” You said, your eyes widening. He didn’t say anything, his mouth in a straight line. “Tell me the year.” You repeated sternly. He smirked at you, rolling his eyes.
“1776.” He said, and you dropped onto the ground. He jumped back, confused.
so fucking sick of telling people I’m getting a nose job & their responses being “why are you getting a nose job?” “show me what is wrong with your nose that would cause you to need a nose job” “look at my nose I have a big nose not you” shut up shut up SHUT UP