#(lol I don't have a therapist)

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1

Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.

Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.

~*~*~

The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.

Ah. That was panic.

Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."

Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Five."

The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.

"Four."

"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.

"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.

"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.

"Two."

"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.

"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.

Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.

"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.

"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.

"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."

So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.

"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.

"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.

"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.

Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

A very self indulgent tatted and pierced up Ichimatsu thas it

[jedidragonwarriorqueen]

telling my parents either tonight over drinks or tomorrow over coffee that i'm not practicing catholicism anymore and haven't been for a long time. wish me luck 🤞🤞🤞

[shaydh]

I may be autistic.

I may be experiencing autistic burnout.

I should probably go to therapy.

[littleoddwriter]

Cooper Abbott x GN!Reader w/ BPD (Borderline PD) | Mini-Fic in Bullet Point Format

Hey there! I wrote this during the weekend when I was having a longer BPD episode and needed to vent and find comfort. Debated with myself on sharing it, but I also know from my previous BPD-centric writing that it helps others that find themselves in similar situations to mine, so, why not. This is focused around one BPD episode. General BPD!Reader headcanons with Cooper might follow at some point, though. notes/warnings; Gender Neutral!Reader; Reader has Borderline Personality Disorder; BPD Episode; Implied/Referenced Self-Harm & Suicidal Tendencies; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Mentions of Murder(ous Intent) [because it's Cooper, so, duh].

Cooper Abbott Masterlist

You tell Cooper about your diagnosis as soon as you feel like you can trust him with the information. Over time, you’ve learned to be as open about it as you possibly could. That way you could weed out people that didn’t care or that believed in the stigma, and it was also helpful to set boundaries and explain your behaviour to the other person.

Most of the time - especially with the help of therapy - you try to manage your symptoms by yourself. You don’t want to burden anyone with your instability, and you certainly don’t want to risk being abandoned for being ‘too much’ again. But it doesn’t always work to keep it all away from the people closest to you, including Cooper.

He makes you feel safe, more than anyone ever has before him. He gives you the feeling of being seen and heard, and best of all, understood on some level. Not judged. 

When you move in together, it’s a lot more difficult for you to manage your symptoms by yourself, though. It’s hard to mask your feelings either way; but when Cooper is present, it’s like there’s no way to hide from him, for better or worse. 

One day, you have an episode, and you don’t know what to do because none of your recently learned healthy coping mechanisms are working, which only makes you feel worse.

Cooper tries to help. He keeps suggesting things for you to do, distractions, attempts to comfort you, and talks you through it. But it doesn’t help. It only agitates you more. Eventually, you snap at him. 

Regret and guilt tear you up on the inside as soon as your words leave your mouth. And you see the way Cooper falters. It’s rare for his own mask to slip around you. He looks almost murderous for a moment, like he’d want to smash your head into the wall. And it’s terrifying on one hand, but on the other, you wish he’d do exactly that and put you out of your misery.

You leave the room and he lets you, knowing that you’re not helping each other right now, but only making things worse. And once you’re alone, you lose yourself to the episode, after trying so hard to keep it inside and prevent the worst from happening. 

When you’re calm enough to face Cooper again to apologise to him for snapping, he’s gone. It almost drives you into another episode. But then you look at your phone and see that he sent you a message. An emergency at work. You don’t question it, but deep down, you have an odd feeling about the timing of it. Nonetheless, you decide to believe him, to cling onto his words that tell you that he’s going to come back to you, that he didn’t just abandon you over your outburst, and that he may not be as mad at you as he seemed at first.

You can’t get the look of his eyes from that moment out of your head, though. This murderous intent that gleamed at you. Those beautiful brown orbs that usually looked so gentle, suddenly devoid of any affection. Just cold daggers that were waiting to pierce you to death.

In the morning, after a restless night on your end, he returns home to you. He takes care of you, quietly and soothingly, not judging you for what you might have done during the worst of your episode. He lets his lips travel over each spot he knows you love to feel them most. The tenderness of his actions are a harsh contrast to the murder in his eyes the night before. Those same eyes that now look at you like you’re used to. Full of affection and care, and gentleness. 

Once you’re both sitting in silence, you apologise to Cooper, almost frantically. Still terrified that he’ll leave you, just like the rest. But he doesn’t. He accepts your apology and even apologises to you, as well. For having to leave all of a sudden when you were at your worst and needed him most, for not doing anything that helped you; not that it was his fault at all, but you appreciate the sentiment. 

Cooper finishes it with a new gift for you. A piece of jewellery he knew you’d love. He saw it on his way home, he claims, and just had to get it for you as a way to finalise his apology, but also to give you a new physical reminder of his love for you.

[triaelf9]

good morning! if you have a beef with a series or a scene in the series, fanartists can't do anything to fix that! And unloading on them on a post with their art isn't going to do anything but make the artist feel shitty! hope this was helpful! ^_^;;;

[unstablemotions]

people: you need to get an official diagnosis from a psychiatrist!!!

psychiatrists: *misdiagnosed me with different things like +4 times and filled me with unnecessary medicine*

[welivetodream]

Headcanon (spoilers S5!!!): The reason we don't see Dazai being suicidal (I don't remember a single suicide joke in S5) anymore is because during his time in prison he had therapy sessions with Fyodor and started to change for better. That is why he says to Fyodor "You can't kill me" because he doesn't want to die anymore. It's Dazai showing his appreciation for the therapy sessions by killing Fyodor. What a wonderful friendship.

[pollen]

:|

[tiddiesoutwhenthetisout]

not me curling my laptop charger wire the way you curl band equipment cords HAHAHA god i miss it

[mermaidsirennikita]

any thoughts on the darkest corner of the heart discourse?

I really need people to stop thinking that a random book is a harbinger of society's moral collapse. The more I see that rhetoric the dumber it gets.

So it's a romance novel (a fiction) about two adults (who knew each other when one was a kid, yes--don't know how old that kid was, but they are now adults and there was zero romantic or sexual contact when she was underage) who fall in love. All of which is a pretty common fantasy among the book's target audience. I don't see the issue.

I mean, I doubt I'll ever read it, but I have no problem with it based on the information I've gleaned.

[sherlock-is-ace]

the imposter syndrome i feel every time i even slightly think i might be autistic is insane, specially for a person who highly relates to the lived experiences of people who are professionally diagnosed.

Like I was just watching this one youtuber, and she was talking about very specific examples in her life and childhood where she saw autistic traits that made her realize she was autistic and then seek a diagnosis and then get one, and everything she was saying was like she was describing my life! But yeah no, I can't be autistic tho

[spurgie-cousin]

me: *searches for any kind of mental health professional in a 60-mile radius that specializes in adult ADHD in any way shape or form*

google:

[adelle-ein]

honestly even after all these years i don't think i've fully accepted that i'm severely mentally ill and that heavily affects every aspect of my life

like why do i spend so much time worrying about if i'm "disabled enough" when i objectively, literally, cannot function and need massive amounts of medical and therapeutic intervention just to like, stay alive. put aside all the physical health stuff and i'm still REALLY sick

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Sometimes I look at my writing and I'm like hm. I really am. Working through some things. Huh.

[cistematicchaos]

LMAO trauma really will make you sit in silence, contemplating how you’re an irredeemable creature and don’t really belong anywhere and when your In-Brain-Therapist pipes up to say “but isn’t that what a lot of traumatized people think? isn’t that just a distorted view caused by our trauma and not actually a FACT?”, trauma will slap that bitch down, no hesitation, with, “hahaha yeah but i’m different tho.”