Anonymous asked:
Npd culture is feeling so good about yourself cause people get crushes on you within like a couple days of meeting you so incredibly often but also being so bewildered because why does this keep happening to me
narcissisticpdcultureis answered:
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Because I'm only seeing other Jews posting about this, non-Jews I need you to be aware that for the past month or two there has been a wave of bomb threats and swattings at synagogues all across the US. They usually do it when services are being livestreamed. I haven't seen a single non-Jew talking about this. High holidays are coming up in a few weeks, which is when most attacks happen against our communities. We're worried, and we need people to know what's happening to us.
saw a post that was essentially like "actually the concepts of [cluster B disorder] abuse arent ableist because we do have abusive behaviors that we need to unlearn and so thats why our disorders are stigmatized" mf ive BEEN unlearning them. ive been teaching myself how to be less manipulative since i was in high school, and im still putting in the effort to improve but ive changed a whole damn lot from the kid i used to be. and just because someone exhibits some unhealthy behaviors does not mean theyre abusive. there is a difference between causing harm to others sometimes and being outright abusive. everyone hurts others on occasion. everyone has unhealthy and toxic behavior patterns they need to unlearn. thats not fucking unique to cluster B disorders.
i am not excusing people who ARE abusive and whose abuse DOES tie in with their cluster B symptoms, but im also not putting up with the fucking idea that its somehow all of our fault that other people want to assume were all heartless shitty irredeemable monsters. personality disorders are chronic and incurable but people with them can still improve and be kind, even if they make occasional mistakes just like how everyone else makes mistakes.
it is not ableism to call out abusive behavior and make the person responsible face consequences, thats entirely correct. it is not ableism to say that people need to put in effort to overcome harmful behavior patterns, also completely correct.
what IS ableism is assuming that everyone who struggles with cluster B symptoms is automatically a full blown abuser, and sweeping aside the progress that so many of us have worked so damn hard to make, just because YOU dont think that progress is good enough. i dont care if you also have a cluster B disorder, its still ableism. some of us have worked hard to be good people and dont fucking appreciate having that effort spit on. and if you feel that your toxic behaviors tread into the territory of being abusive, that is not my fucking problem just because we have the same or similar disorders.
and what ELSE is ableism is the fucking fact that people with cluster B disorders struggle so much to find any resources to improve our toxic behaviors because psych professionals see us as inherently horrible and everything written about our disorders revolves around how others can cope with being around us, how to heal from us, how to spot us, how to manipulate us before we can manipulate them. THAT is fucking ableism. a lack of resources because others are so hellbent on hating and blaming and hurting us. how are we supposed to even be expected to improve when nobody is willing to help us? and yet we do. despite everything there are those of us who improve. and its not fucking acknowledged.
because i value my blood pressure, im blocking anyone who wants to try arguing with me or putting words in my mouth.
Why did your parent(s) choose the name they gave you?
its actual meaning
named after a family member
named after someone famous
named after a character
liked the way it sounded
other reason in the tags
no idea
See ResultsHero AU where school counselor!Phil has to deal with… interesting students.
Namely, the three boys he sees constantly bickering in the hallways.
And slamming cars into each other on the news.
Ridiculously, none of them know who the others are.
But Phil notices the *moment* new young vigilantes start popping up. The trio’s dropping grades, spotty attendance, and injuries only confirm it.
Or, y’know. Tommy mumbling, “What would you do if you were a hero?”
Phil helps in the least obvious ways he can.
Modifying their grades to be a bit less suspicious, leaving out ice packs by his office door (easy to steal), writing late passes without a bit of resistance.
But he can only be so subtle.
“So, Red.”
Tommy’s head jerks up.
Phil almost laughs. “You’ve heard of him, huh? I figure he’s your favorite.”
Tommy shifts awkwardly in his chair — readjusting the wound Phil knows lies beneath his sweater. “Better than the fuckin’ Blade.”
Techno. Honors student. Flawless GPA. Volunteer. And vigilante.
Far closer to a villain.
“If only I could give the Blade a lecture,” Phil says, unable to stop a chuckle, and barely managing to not say, *You two have to stop beating the shit out of each other.*
Eventually, Phil gives up on subtlety & calls them all down to his office.
“So. I heard you’ve been getting into fights.”
Wilbur, drama kid — or Siren, smooth-tongued — is the first to act, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, sir?”
Then Techno. “Mr. Watson, I would *never.*”
“Then what’s that?”
Phil nods to the bruise beneath Techno’s turtleneck — from a hit Siren landed. Then, to Wilbur’s knuckles, ever so slightly battered.
And neither seem to notice a thing.
Phil pinches his brow, sighing.
“Alright. Then Tommy. Care to explain the state of your shoes?” (Burnt, melted from running through rubble the Blade had created.)
*There* it is. Techno frowns, leaning back to peek — and Tommy quickly tucks his feet beneath the chair.
“Nothing.”
“Where were you all last night?”
Every single kid tenses.
And starts rambling out excuses.
“I was— studying, of course—”
“Well, *I* was trying to get ice cream, and that bitch the Blade showed up—”
“Bitch?” Techno cries before catching himself. “I think you mean *Red* and *Siren*—”
“What the fuck?” Wilbur splutters. “Siren was trying to calm those two fuckers down—”
“Boys,” Phil says. “Look. All three of those heroes would be better *together,* right? Not fighting, not hurting each other?”
“Maybe,” Tommy finally mumbles, toeing at the floor, “but… why are we talking about heroes?”
Phil tips back in his chair, face in hands.
“Come on. Someone figure it out.”
Silence.
Phil groans. “Wilbur, you quit band two months ago. Techno, Tommy, who showed up two months ago?”
More silence.
“Uhh… I don’t know.”
“Techno,” Phil says, almost desperate. “You tutor Tommy, right? What happens after he disappears from your lessons?”
“I… go home,” Techno lies.
Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, you go where *he* goes. And where’s that?”
Tommy’s eyes start to narrow.
“You like Greek shit. Like… the Blade,” he says quietly, staring at Techno. Then, at Wilbur. “And *you’re* a pretentious bastard. Like *Siren.*”
Phil raises an eyebrow, fighting a smile.
“And you’re a little shit,” Wilbur snaps, then— pales. “Like… Red?”
“*There* we go,” Phil says, letting out a sigh of relief. “Now, I have a plan. If you three work together, I truly believe that—”
It’s a shame Phil’s office is so tiny.
There’s no room for three vigilantes to sufficiently beat the shit out of each other.
.
.
.
Just the idea of the three of them curled up at Phil’s, working on homework before heading off to fight crime (together, for once).
Phil being their “man in the chair” (even if he directs them to safer areas, too worried for anything more).
And of course, the best (worst?) part of being a school counselor — the actual *counseling.*
Except it’s not about what classes to take, or bullies to avoid.
It’s holding Wilbur as he sobs after killing his first villain to protect his brothers. (Because that’s what they are, now).
It’s comforting Techno as he fails his first class, too busy with heroics to focus or study.
It’s reassuring Tommy when his brothers get hurt, always ready to defend their youngest.
And it’s crying like a father when they graduate.
It’s *loving* them like a father, his home always open to them, filled with medical supplies and bedrooms for each kid, newpaper clippings pinned proudly on the fridge.
There’s a reason the city’s strongest trio of vigilantes always protect one specific man.
