#and without them brushing off my sensory triggers every time I try to explain how certain things and situations get me anxious af

[momochiiee-reblogs]

Being screamed at for things that aren't my fault seems to be a norm in this house

There's cookware scattered an dirty? Guess who gets blamed for it? The exact one that almost never has spoons for cooking in the first place

I live cleaning the trail after me so they won't have any reason to scream at me, but my brother leaves absolute messes behind him and the screams are for me

Fuck off

[punksarahreese]

Gloves | 4 mg Ativan

Nosdecember day 14 | @neworleansspecial

Anxious!Ava; Ava’s sensory issues get in the way of a surgery

CW: hospital trauma gore, panic attacks, sensory overload, self injury stims

***

“Ava!” Connor’s voice was barely audible over the chaos of the emergency department. It didn’t help that Ava was majorly overwhelmed, trying her hardest to focus on the task at hand so she didn’t have time to panic. It took a gentle nudge from April’s elbow meeting her ribcage before she was able to look up from the central line she had been doing.

“Go help him,” April ushered her out of the treatment room, “I can get a student to do this.”

Ava nodded, too much going on for her to be comfortable to respond. She slipped out of the crowded treatment room, pulling off the pair of gloves that had been making her increasingly uncomfortable. The ED was packed, chaos unfolding as Maggie tried to get the disaster protocol in place. A train accident had all hospitals in the area absolutely swamped with patients and Gaffney was getting the brunt of it due to its proximity. Ava and Connor had been called down to help with the traumas and assess any cases that would need surgical intervention. Connor was pleased; well, as pleased as a trauma surgeon is in such a morbid situation. He enjoyed the chaotic, fast-paced environment of the emergency department when it was experiencing a mass trauma. Ava, however, disliked that exact environment completely. She preferred the predictable, familiar OR where she was in charge and the only thing she had to worry about was finishing the procedure she could often do completely from muscle memory.

To say Ava was uncomfortable was an understatement. She hadn’t seen Sarah in a few hours, since the psychiatrist was jumping between the ED, the waiting room, and upstairs. Connor and her hadn’t been on great terms since their altercation in the CT lounge, especially after Ava had emerged from the room with makeup streaked down her red cheeks and other evident signs of a major panic attack. He didn’t apologize for making her meltdown and she didn’t ask for it; they just fell into some kind of silent cold war. No conversations had come up between them unless it involved work or faux-pleasantries to avoid confusing Latham. Since then, Ava had been increasingly more uncomfortable in Connor’s presence, so the last thing she wanted to do was go help him with a trauma. This meant she didn’t have a single person in her general vicinity to give her some semblance of security, which only worsened her anxiety.

“Finally,” Connor didn’t look up when Ava walked into Baghdad, which meant he missed the death glare she halfheartedly directed at him. He motioned for her to come closer, making her realize how much of a predicament this patient was in.

A large metal rebar was protruding from the upper chest of a teenage boy, whose clothing was bloodied and the rest of his body didn’t look much better. This was unfortunately something Ava had seen more than once since moving to Chicago. From the placement of the bar it looked like it would be a tricky surgery, though not one that Connor couldn’t do with the help of a resident. She wasn’t needed, not really, so why did he call her in here?

“Rebar to the anterior chest cavity, not through and through, pretty sure the bar snagged the left subclavian.”

“Where do you need me?” She tried her best to settle into her surgical mindset, ignoring the way the erratic beeping of the heart monitors was getting to her.

“I don’t think he can make it upstairs,” he was saying as he looked over the labs that Monique handed him, “You’ll need to go to the hybrid OR.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Connor,” Ava gently lifted the gauze packed around the bar to check the wound, “You don’t need me, not for this. I could be helping with the other surgical candidates.”

“You’re going to do this, Ava,” Connor looked at her for the first time, “I have other patients already prepped upstairs.”

Ava’s heart sank. Not only was he forcing her to operate in an unfamiliar OR, he wouldn’t even be there for it. Usually Ava hated sharing her surgeries, especially with Connor, but today was just not a day for that. She hated traumas, was uncharacteristically unsure of things like this, so the thought of doing it without a trauma surgery assist sounded like a bad idea.

“Connor, no.”

“Ava, you’ll be fine,” he was already taking off his gloves and heading to leave the room, “The team’s already prepping, just get the bar out and repair the artery.”

“Connor!” He was already halfway past the nurse’s station by the time she had tried to stop him. Ava was painfully aware of the amount of eyes on her, the staff around her looking to the surgeon for clarification. She tried to take a deep breath but her lungs felt like they were in a vice, panic slowly setting in. She shouldn’t be this nervous, she tried to reason with herself, it was just another surgery. Everything was too much though; this was too much change at once.

“Doctor Bekker?”

“Right, uh,” Ava blinked rapidly as she looked over at the nurse, “Get him to the hybrid OR then. I’ll go scrub.”

She could do this.

She had to.

Five minutes later, she was scrubbing in. She didn’t like this at all, the OR in the emergency department was so different. It was new, yes, and very nice but it wasn’t her ORs. The huge glass windows looking into the ED only worsened it for Ava. She felt like a changed animal being watched at a zoo, except she couldn’t even pace to make herself feel better. She was on display and could see the chaos outside too, it was too much.

“Ready, Doctor Bekker?” some resident whose name she suddenly forgot asked from beside her. The young woman didn’t like Ava very much, probably because she thought she got in her way of Connor, but Ava could not care less. Residents were the least of her worries, especially now.

“Uh, yeah. Give me a second.”

She left the scrub area, going to get her gown and leaving Ava in silence. She got distracted by staring out the window, eyes tracking Natalie as she ran across the ED when a code blue sounded over the speakers. Ava didn’t realize how hard she had been scrubbing her hands until she looked down and saw how red her skin had become. Her anxiety was getting the better of her, making her revert to old compulsions in an attempt to soothe herself. She hadn’t been so obsessive about cleaning since med school, but she found herself washing her hands for a second time because something just felt off.

By the time Ava nudged the door to the OR open with her hip, her adrenaline was so high she wanted to run. Somehow it felt like her heart was going to jump from her chest, as anatomically incorrect as that might be. She was focusing on deep breaths while the scrub nurse helped her into her gown, but when she held open the first glove Ava knew this would be a problem.

Nitrile gloves were a sensory nightmare when she was anxious, as ironic as that was. Yes she was a surgeon and yes surgical gloves and the consistent beeping of heart monitors could trigger sensory meltdowns. Ava didn’t know for sure why and she had spent years forcing herself to ignore the anxiety that ate away at her stomach whenever she felt those gloves touch her skin.

Today was different though.

The second she had both gloves on she wanted to scream, the feeling of the material tight against her hands more uncomfortable than ever. She couldn’t stop herself from immediately reaching to touch her collarbone, a self-soothing stim she had since she could remember, subsequently breaking her sterile field when her hand brushed her neck. Cursing under her breath, Ava apologized and explained to the staff that she would need to go rescrub.

She ran to the sinks without thought, ripping the gloves and gown off her body the second she was out of the operating area. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, heart rate probably above 160 if she had to guess. Everything was too much and even after tossing the offending gloves into the waste bin she felt like they were still there. The awful feeling of bugs crawling along her wrists and the powdery residue left behind from the nitrile made her want to gag.

Before she could stop herself, Ava clapped her hands over her ears. The yelling from the ED, the hum of the air conditioning, and the constant beeping of different machines was finally getting to her. The gloves had been her last straw though, bile rising to her throat at the thought of having to put them back on. Even when she scrubbed at her hands roughly with the harsh anti-microbial soap again she still felt them, the sensation making frustrated tears pop up without consent.

The next thing Ava knew she was on the floor. She couldn’t handle it anymore; everything was so much. She was crying, she knew it, but she couldn’t hear herself or anything else over the flood of thoughts that suddenly hit her. The rough texture of her scrubs was at the forefront of her mind, a constant reminder that she couldn’t exist without one thing touching her. Every tactile sensation was too much in that moment and a harsh sob left her throat.

All she could think about was what Connor said in the lounge that day. All of the intrusive, hateful thoughts that morphed themselves out of his words erupting in her head. Even though most of them weren’t ones Connor had actually said out loud, Ava’s anxiety took his anger poorly and had a hayday with the self-deprecation fuel.

All you do is get in the way, Ava.

Were you even thinking about the patient?

You’re so selfish.

This is so childish.

You’re not cut out to be a surgeon.

Ava was so far in her head she didn’t hear the nurses yelling, trying to get her attention. She didn’t hear Connor’s voice as he was asking her what the hell she was doing and what was wrong. All she could do was sob, short nails digging into her biceps with as much force as she could muster. She was so overwhelmed and everything was too much. She was hyperventilating, the room starting to spin, she was supposed to be doing a surgery. Why wasn’t she in surgery?

The next thing Ava knew she was waking up, disoriented because she didn’t remember falling asleep. It took her a few minutes of confused staring at the white ceiling before she realized she was in a patient room. Panic set in almost immediately, concern for the patient flooding her more than any concern for herself. She felt an immense wave of guilt; what had she done?

The rapid beeping of a heart monitor signaled her increasing tachycardia and that immediately caught someone’s attention. Sarah was there in seconds, hands landing cautiously on Ava’s cheeks to soothe her. Ava didn’t resist because she knew immediately that it was Sarah, relaxing into the touch but unable to make eye contact. She was still overwhelmed, despite the amount of sedatives undoubtedly circulating her system. The mental toll was just as bad as the physical and all she wanted to do was melt into Sarah’s arms and weep.

“Avey,” the pitying look that her girlfriend gave her sent guilt gnawing away at Ava’s stomach again, “Why did you push yourself this far?”

[himecchi]

keith trapped in a burning building, his dad saves him but his dad ends up dying ((also i already love this blog. i live for keith whump))

Summary: While learning about Altean sensory alteration rooms, Keith is shown an image that triggers an unwelcome flashback. 

Fandom: Voltron

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Square filled: Trapped in a burning building

Note: this was partially inspired by this art by @zuspacey 

An Altean sensory alteration room. The paladins were fascinated. They’d never seen anything like it before and, as they stepped inside, Coran began to explain how it worked.

“Alright Paladins, listen up!” Coran paused for a moment, then continued “This is an Altean sensory alteration room. It’s similar to the virtual reality chambers you have on Earth, but it’s a bit different. This here, alters your senses. All five of them. What you experience in here will feel real in every respect. For example…” Coran trailed off as he turned towards a large digital screen and began typing, “If we do this…”

Suddenly, the environment began to shift. An icy tundra materialized before them and, just as Coran had said, it truly felt real. They could taste the bitter air, feel the chill on their skin, smell the frosty wind, see the snow-coated landscape, and hear the dull roar of bone-chilling breeze whooshing past them.

“Wow…” Pidge began, “This is…”

“Amazing…” Hunk trailed off, taking everything in.

Lance began forming a snowball, then reached back, preparing to launch it. “Hey, Keith! How about a sensory alteration room snowball to the fac-” Lance called out, but was cut off by an orb of cold snow smacking him in the face instead.

“Heh, nice try.” He could hear the confident smile in Keith’s tone and, sure enough, as the snow slid down Lance’s cheeks, Keith’s smirking face came into view.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it,” Lance retorted, looking unamused.

As the paladins began throwing snowballs at each other, Coran watched them at a distance, shivering from the cold. He wasn’t used to these freezing temperatures as Altea’s climate tended to be fairly mild.

“A-alright, paladins!” Coran called out, teeth chattering slightly, “That’s enough! Let’s turn up the heat!” He then typed another command into the digital screen, and suddenly, the surrounding area was on fire.

“Uhhh… Coran?” Lance questioned, cocking an eyebrow, “Is this supposed to happen…?”

“Yeah, I don’t like this,” Hunk said, knitting his eyebrows together slightly, “Can’t you make this into… I don’t know… a nice, tropical island or something?”

“Yeahhh,” Pidge began, “This is a little extreme, Coran. I mean, I know none of this is actually happening, but it feels like it’s actually happening and I’d rather not feel like I’m burning in a fire.”

“Right, right! Sorry, paladins!” Coran spoke, “It seems I accidentally input the wrong data. Just a moment.” Coran began typing into the digital screen once more…

But for Keith, it was already too late.

His eyes grew wide as the vibrant reds and yellows danced before him, his breath quickened at the overwhelming scent of smoke, and suddenly, he found himself back there.

He was 10 years old again, inside a building surrounded by the crackling of fire. Thick smoke was filling his lungs as he struggled to breathe. Vivid colors jumped into his vision. Terrifying heat engulfed his body… and the taste. A bitter, ashen taste was sharp in the back of his throat. He looked around frantically, searching for an exit - for any possible way out - but he couldn’t find anything. Terror began to set in as he realized he was trapped.

“Help!” He cried out, choking on his panicked breaths, “Somebody please! Help me! HELP!”

Hot tears began to soak his cheeks as he coughed, gasping desperately for air. Everything began to shift in and out of focus as the stifling heat intensified and the thick smoke clouded his vision.

“PLEASE! Dad! Somebody! Anybody! HEL-” he cried out, choking on the last word.

Tears continued to spill past his eyes as they stung from the ever-increasing smoke. He could feel the painful sting of cinders against his skin as the raging fire began to close in around him.

“No… I don’t… want to die…” Keith choked out weakly, “Please… somebody…”

Just as his world was about to go black, he saw a figure moving towards him. The figure quickly hoisted Keith into the air, cradling him close to his chest.

“Everything’s alright, son. I’ve gotcha.”

Keith recognized the voice instantly. It was his dad.

“D-Dad?” Keith managed to breathe out.

Suddenly, Keith registered bright light meeting his eyes as he was enveloped in cool, fresh air. The change in environment was sudden, and it jolted Keith into a state of slightly greater alertness, but everything in his vision swam and still appeared blurry to him.

He managed to pick up on bits and pieces of the commotion: flashes of red and blue, his dad’s hand brushing back his bangs, and the sound of sirens in the distance.

“Take him… going back…”

Fragments of conversation flooded Keith’s ears.

“… too dangerous…”

“Take care of Keith…”

“…building could collapse…”

“…I have to…”

Keith’s weary mind was too exhausted to piece all this information together, but something in him understood the gravity of the situation and, at the realization that his father was in danger, he suddenly found himself hyper-alert.

He sat up, finding himself in a pair of unfamiliar arms. He began frantically looking around, then caught a glimpse of his dad just as he was about to turn and run back into the building. Keith struggled free, running towards his dad, calling out to him, “Dad! Wait! Don’t leave me!” he cried out. “DAD!”

Before he knew it, he felt unfamiliar arms wrapping around him once again, holding him in place. “Let go of me!” Keith screamed, “Dad! Dad!” he yelled again, as tears began to pool at the corners of his eyes. “DAD!!!” Keith cried out with every ounce of strength he had in him.

Suddenly, his dad paused, then turned towards him, “I love you, Keith,” he said smiling softly, eyes wrinkling gently to form the loving expression Keith knew so well… then, he turned and ran into the burning building.

“DAD!” Keith screamed, “No! Don’t go! DADDD!!!”

Without warning, an explosion was heard as the fire intensified and then, right before Keith’s very eyes, the building collapsed, his father still inside.

Keith stood in place as time suddenly froze. Reds and yellows and blacks and blues all merged together in his vision, and Keith felt himself completely disconnect from reality. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening… and then it all faded away to black.

Keith’s eyes fluttered open and he awoke to a ceiling washed in fluorescent lighting. He groaned, placing his arm over his eyes.

“Wh-where am I?” he mumbled to himself.

“Good to see you’re awake.”

Keith turned to see a nurse peering down at him.

“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked kindly.

Keith paused for a moment, trying to process everything.

What happened? How did he get here? Why was he here? Where was…

“Dad!” Keith yelled out, as it all rushed back to him. “Where is he? Where’s my dad? Is he… is he okay? Can I see him?”

The nurse gazed into Keith’s young eyes, wide and innocent, and slowly, she turned away, shifting her eyes towards the ground and swallowing hard.

“Just a moment,” she mumbled as she walked out of the room.

Keith watched her as she left, continuing to stare at the door until a new face appeared before him. He recognized this man as Jeff, one of his dad’s colleagues.

“Hey, kiddo. How ya feeling?” Jeff smiled awkwardly.

“Jeff?” Keith questioned, “What are you doing here? Where’s… where’s dad?”

The pieces were beginning to fall into place for Keith, but he didn’t dare allow himself to consciously acknowledge what he already knew to be true: his father hadn’t made it. Somewhere in his heart, he knew, but he just couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

Jeff drew in a deep, shaky breath, then moved to sit near Keith. He didn’t have it in him to break the news to the kid, but he knew he had to. One look into Keith’s eyes, glazed over with concern, was enough for Jeff to know it was no use trying to dodge the subject.

“Listen, kid,” Jeff began, “Shoot… I don’t know how to start this……” Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to compose himself. “Your dad… I just… before I tell you this, I want you to listen to me, Keith. Your dad… he loved you very much, okay? You were his entire world… all he talked about - his pride and joy. Do you understand?”

Keith nodded silently.

Jeff took another deep breath, “Okay… now listen, the thing is… that fire… your dad… he went back in to save the last person in the building and… it collapsed, Keith. He… ummm… he was inside when it collapsed.”

“I… I see…” Keith stuttered, swallowing hard, “Well… is he okay? Can I see him? He’s probably in this hospital then, right? I… I’m sure he’s worried about me, so… I should go see him and maybe-”

“Keith.” Jeff cut him off. “He’s… not here, Keith.”

“Well where is he?” Keith asked, feeling irritated.

“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it,” Keith’s mind was screaming as he watched Jeff begin to speak.

“He’s dead, Keith. He died… I’m… I’m so sorry. Your dad… he was a true hero. He… he knew the building would collapse, but he… just ran in there anyways and…” Jeff trailed off, voice breaking.

Once again, the whole world froze around Keith. No, no, no. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t… it couldn’t be… none of this was real. The neutral tones of the hospital room began to shake and… wait… the hospital room wasn’t shaking. Keith was shaking. His vision began to blur as fresh tears welled up in his eyes and overflowed, leaking down his face.

“Keith,” Jeff spoke softly as he moved to place his hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Smack.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Keith screamed at him, slapping his hand away with the ferocity of a wounded beast, eyes wide as tears continued streaming endlessly down his cheeks.

“You’re lying!” Keith yelled, “I know you’re lying! I’m going to find my dad… I’m going to… see him…”

Keith’s breathing was beginning to quicken as panic set in, causing him to struggle to get the words out.

“I’m… he’s… I have to… have to see him… where… which way…” Keith began frantically looking around the room, trying to orient himself as his breathing picked up pace yet again.

“Keith…” Jeff began moving towards him, unsure of what to do.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Keith screamed, slicing his arm through the air in an attempt to make his point clear.

“I just… have to… dad… which way… dad… dad…”

Huff. Huff. Huff. Keith’s erratic breath was now ringing in his ears and, with the way he seemed to be choking on air, he felt as if he were back in that burning building all over again. He was suffocating - completely consumed by the thoughts whirring around in his mind.

Keith… Keith… Keith…

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I thought I told this guy to leave me alone!” Keith thought.

He angrily slapped the hand away. “I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE!” he cried out.

Immediately, Keith paused as he was met with a familiar set of eyes: Hunk.

“Keith… hey, calm down,” Hunk spoke in a soft, gentle tone, “Are you okay?”

Keith blinked several times, eyes darting around the room in a panic, trying to process this sudden change of scenery.

“Where… where are we?” Keith asked urgently, “What happened? The fire… there was a fire…” Keith was still looking around the room, terrified.

“Keith,” Hunk tried again, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. This time, Keith accepted the touch. “Calm down, buddy. We’re in the sensory alteration room. Remember? The fire was just a sensory illusion. Coran accidentally typed in the wrong code.”

“Are you okay, Keith?” Pidge asked, features tensed in concern, “You completely zoned out.”

“I… I did?” Keith asked, swallowing hard as he brought a hand up to his head in confusion.

“Yeah,” Lance spoke, “We called your name again and again, but you were just… it was like you were in another world…”

As reality began to set in, Keith started regaining his senses.

“That’s right,” he thought, “I remember now… we’ve been in here the whole time… but it felt like I was…”

Keith could feel fresh waves of panic rising in the back of his throat as the flashback he’d just had resurfaced in his mind. He felt sweat begin to pool on his skin as his face went pale.

“I… I’m fine, guys,” Keith spoke, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “Sorry… I think I’m just t-tired… I’m gonna go.”

It wasn’t at all convincing, but Keith’s fellow paladins felt it would be best not to push him, so they decided to let it slide, instead exchanging worried looks with one another.

After several moments, Hunk spoke, “Maybe we should go talk to Shiro?” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Lance said, looking at the ground, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Shiro probably knows best when it comes to Keith,” Pidge mused.

Shiro was in his room reading, when suddenly, his double doors slid open to reveal Pidge, Hunk, and Lance. Shiro cocked an eyebrow. This was certainly out of the ordinary.

“Hey guys,” Shiro said, closing his book and walking towards them, “What’s up?”

None of them spoke, instead they awkwardly stared at the ground, unsure how to begin the conversation.

“Okay… you’re kinda freakin’ me out,” Shiro noted, eyebrows raised, “Seriously, what’s up?”

“It’s…” Lance began to speak.

“It’s about Keith!” Hunk blurted out.

Shiro’s demeanor immediately shifted, his casual stance becoming alert as his eyes flooded with concern.

“Keith? What’s wrong? What happened?” Shiro questioned.

“Well…” Pidge began, “We were in the Altean sensory alteration room and Coran accidentally put in some incorrect data. It made everything seem like it was on fire, and-”

Pidge didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Shiro was pushing past them and running down the hall.

Keith sat on the floor in his room, head between his knees, body shaking.

“Calm down,” he told himself, trying to steady his breathing.

It was no use. The flashback had really shaken him up, and he couldn’t keep the panic at bay any longer. It was now at full force, wreaking havoc on him. Each time he told himself to calm down, he felt a fresh wave of alarm rise in his chest. The air around him was stifling and he felt as if it was suffocating him. It was an endless cycle: whenever he had a panic attack, he’d find it hard to breathe, which would remind him of the feeling he had when he was trapped in that building, choking on smoke the way he was now choking on air. This would cause his panic to rise even more, which would make it even harder to breathe, and it would continue on like that for what felt to Keith like an eternity.

As fresh memories flooded his system, Keith began to sob. These were the memories he’d buried deep within himself - the memories he’d wanted to forget. They resided in the darkest depths of his being and he had intended to always keep it that way… but today, it was all too much. It was all too real, and it had opened the gate he’d built to keep these memories locked away.

“Get out!” Keith screamed in his mind, “Stay out of my head! Just stop! Please stop!”

“Keith!” Shiro’s voice came out in a panic as the doors to Keith’s room slammed open.

Suddenly, Keith felt familiar hands wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

“Sh… Shiro?” Keith choked out, confused.

“I heard what happened,” Shiro explained. “It’s okay, Keith. You’re okay.”

Shiro rubbed comforting circles into Keith’s back, trying to help him calm down.

“You’re safe, Keith,” Shiro reassured him, “It’s okay.”

“I miss him so much,” Keith cried out, choking on a stifled sob. “I… he died when he went to save the l-last p-person in the building… th-that means… if… if I hadn’t been there… m-maybe he’d still be-”

“Don’t say that,” Shiro shushed, “Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”

“I don’t… I just… I never knew how to feel back then… sometimes I still don’t. I was so angry. I didn’t understand why he’d leave me. I was so lonely. I missed him so much… but… I was also so proud… so proud to have such an amazing dad… but… I… I just… why… why did it have to be this way? I just…… I miss my dad,” Keith whispered the last words, as if he was admitting a secret to himself, and with that, the flood gates had been opened. Keith was now crying freely, the grief too intense to hold inside himself any longer.

“I know you do,” Shiro said softly, rubbing gentle circles against Keith’s trembling back.

Shiro reached back behind him and grabbed a blanket, draping it over Keith’s shoulders, then pulled him in closer as liquid grief continued to spill past Keith’s weary eyes. Shiro knew nothing he said right now would help, so instead he let Keith bury himself in his shirt as tears cascaded down his face like waterfalls.

“You’re okay, Keith. I’ve got you.” Shiro whispered soothingly.

Eventually, Keith had cried himself to sleep in Shiro’s comforting embrace.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for the prompt @koganewest! I’m glad to hear you’re liking the blog! I lowkey highkey live for Keith whump too :) 

 If anyone else has prompts, feel free to check my bingo card (updated version can be found on my page) and send any that haven’t already been requested my way :)

[dreamingstoriesinoursleep]

12 Days of Starker Christmas - Day 9: Tony (or) Peter get sick, and the other takes care of him.

When Peter gets sick, he gets really sick, so, when the young man nearly gets killed while patrolling and Tony has to save him, he brushes off the pain in his head as a migraine, but Tony knows better than to chalk it up to dehydration.

---

Peter was off, his aim of the web shooters was slightly to the left which meant that his landings were less than impressive. Peter has been chasing this guy for the better part of the night and every time he fired their gun the sound echoed painfully in his ears, which normally didn’t happen, as the suit usually helped to dull stimulus to prevent hurting Peter’s overactive senses, something that Tony was more than happy to put in when he noticed the younger male getting constant headaches.

“Karen, can you please run a check to see if there is anything wrong with the sensor dampeners?” However, before Karen can reply an affirmative the criminal fires a shot and catches Peter in the shoulder which knocks him back onto his arse.

The criminal then comes up and knees Peter in the face which causes the young man to lie flat on the ground and hold his head in pain. The throbbing in his head too loud for Peter to hear Karen tell him that Tony has been called and given information on his wounds and whereabouts.

The criminal stands over him and places a boot over the gunshot and presses down which causes Peter to scream out in pain. “Please! Please! Stop, it hurts, I-I can’t.” Peter pleads pain laced thickly in his words.

“You really thought you could stop me?” The criminal sneers and cocks the gun one more time, aiming at Peter’s head and putting his finger on the trigger. “You can’t.” Peter closes his eyes, not wanting to watch as the bullet splits his skull open.

“No, but I can.” A voice from behind the man standing over Peter says before a whirring sound cuts through the silence of the night.

“You think you can stop me in time from putting a bullet between this freak’s eyes?!” The guy screams, which makes Tony’s blood boil.

“You wanna go?! Make one wrong move, I dare you!” Tony yells, the unmistakable feeling of fear coursing through his veins and a mantra of ���protect peter at all costs, whatever it takes’ on repeat. Tony can see the muscles in the man’s arm move as his finger wraps around the trigger, but before he can pull his finger back to his palm and fire the gun, Tony shoots twice, once in each knee that brings the guy down and makes him lose his grip on the gun.

Tony sprints over to the criminal and punches him in the face, knocking him out cold. Only then does he retract his helmet and runs over to the boy lying limp on the ground. “Jarvis! Scan him!” Tony is panicked and wants nothing more than to cradle the small boy, but he doesn’t want to cause any more damage.

“There is a gunshot wound in his left shoulder which is causing substantial blood loss, as well as a concussion and his temperature seems to be elevated.”

“Call the cops and tell them where they can find this guy. I am taking Peter home.” Tony scoops the boy up and takes off, flying back home and landing in the med bay. “We need to get this bullet out and his temperature lowered,” Tony says and allows Jarvis to start getting to work.

Twenty minutes later, the bullet is out and Peter is stitched up, but according to Jarvis, his temperature is still rising. “T-Tony?” Peter mumbles out and tries to sit up, but the pain in his head and shoulder are far too great.

Tony runs over to the young man and picks him up off the table and carries him over to the couch to rest. “Woah, hey sweetheart. You wanna tell me what happened tonight?”

Peter blinks blearily and smacks his lips together. “Every single gunshot and yell were so loud and I have the worst headache, I think I might have a migraine,” Peter says so quietly that Tony has to strain to hear him. “He caught me off guard though and shot me, then was about to kill me, but you saved me, I can’t remember much after that, he hit me pretty hard.”

Tony placed his hand on Peter’s cheek and with his thumb rubbed the young man’s bottom lip. “You had Karen run a test on your sensory dampeners? Why?”

“Because everything was just so loud. It hurt so much.”

“Peter, they were functioning at 100%, I ran tests on your suit just last week.” Tony was worried. “You’re getting sick Peter, that’s why everything is so loud.”

Peter was already shaking his head, ever the stubborn one. “No, it’s just a migraine.”

“That doesn’t explain the high temperature, and why it’s steadily climbing,” Tony says, pointing to the monitor that Peter was hooked up to. At this Peter tried to convince Tony otherwise, but he passed out instead. “Pete?! Peter, talk to me, baby!” Tony rushed Peter back to the table and under the aid of Jarvis hooked him up to a drip and back up to the monitor.

Peter remains on the drip for the next five days, Tony monitoring him and ensuring that his fluids stay up, whilst his temperature is still dropping. He really doesn’t want a repeat of the second day;

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Tony sprints into the room at the sound of the monitors alarming.

“Mr Parker’s temperature is far too high and if he remains at this temperature his major organs will begin to shut down,” Jarvis informs Tony who is slowly starting to panic with every word that Jarvis says.

“Well, how the hell do I fix it!”

“I suggest submerging his body in ice water to try and lower his temperature. I will start running the bath for you.” Tony can hear the bath turn on in the master bathroom. He runs into the kitchen and empties the entire ice tray, which fills two large serving bowls and runs into the bathroom as quickly as he can, dumping the frozen water into the tub making loud clanking noises as it hits the side of the porcelain.

Tony then sprints to the med bay, remembering Jarvis’ words about staying at this temperature for too long. Tony picks the limp boy up and nearly drops him again out of pure shock at the heat radiating from his body. Peter is sweating profusely by the time Tony arrives in the bathroom and without even thinking, Tony steps into the bath, breathing sharply at the feeling of the ice around his calves, and lowers himself and Peter into the water. Peter instantly relaxes as the ice water starts to cool him down.

“His temperature is lowering, Mr Stark.” Jarvis’ voice calls out in the bathroom.

Tony hated that day. Peter’s temperature was up and down, which meant that Tony and Peter were in and out of the tub constantly. By the end of the day Tony wanted nothing more than a drink, but all of his ice was gone, so he settled for a strong black coffee.

Now, being day five of Peter’s sickness, Tony was running on pure adrenaline and coffee, from not being able to sleep in fear of another spike in Peter’s temperature. Slowly, Peter’s hand started to twitch and Tony looked up to Peter’s face in hope. “Sweetheart, you there?” Tony asks softly.

“T-Tony?” A weak whimper escapes Peter’s lips.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty.” At this Tony jumps to his feet and fetches Peter a glass of water, sans ice, and straw and Peter attempts to drink the entire cup.

“Hey, hey, slowly sweetheart.”

Peter gasps in a big breath after drinking and smacks his lips. “Thanks. What happened?”

“You were attacked while on patrol. You were shot, but you were also coming down with something, and mix that with the wound and the concussion, your body couldn’t handle and shut down.” Tony ran a hand through the boy’s hair and smiled down at him. “You had a severe case of the flu and have been on the drip for the better part of the week.”

“The week?!” Peter sat up and groaned. “Bucket!” Tony picked up the trash can and passed it to the boy who expelled all of the water he just drank, and carrots, why is there always carrots?

“Take it easy babe. It’s ok, I had one of my suits on patrol this week, and I have set it up to patrol next week too while you recover.”

“Thank you. Can I have some more water please?” Tony chuckles and nods, leaving to get another cup.

“Don’t drink it so fast this time,” Tony says, handing the boy the cup, but holding onto the base in case Peter isn’t strong enough. “Are you ok to move?” At Peter’s nod, Tony picks up the boy and walks into the living room.

Tony puts on Peter’s favourite Christmas movies; Love Actually, A Christmas Carol and A Muppets Christmas Carol, swaddles him in blankets and makes him a bowl of soup that Peter is more than happy to slowly sip spoonfuls of that Tony feeds him.

Eventually, the boy falls asleep on the couch, cuddled into the side of Tony who is happy that Peter is ok. Tony can hear Peter’s even breaths and gets Jarvis to check his vitals one final time for an all-clear before falling asleep himself.

Tony has no idea what he would do without Peter. The young man helps him to stay grounded and keeps him in check, but also allows him the freedom to love who he wants without consequence or judgement, and Tony is so grateful that Peter allows him to love the young man because he loves him unconditionally.

[spiceukonline]

The 'tingles' that could save your exams: What is ASMR?

IMAGINE being able to harness a feeling of pure euphoria and relaxation, and then induce that feeling on demand – completely for free. Sounds pretty ideal, doesn’t it?

Welcome to the online YouTube world of ASMR.

ASMR, or Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, is the name for the intense “tingle” around the scalp when a certain sensory trigger is provided. Many experience this sensation when their hair is being played with, or when they are listening to soft sounds. While the feeling normally starts in the scalp, it can reportedly spread to the neck, spine and even limbs (asmruniversity). Not everybody experiences it, but for the thousands who do, the ever-expanding ASMR community online seems to be a lifesaver.

Emma soothes you to sleep youtube.com

Since being coined in 2010, the term ‘ASMR’ has suceeded in creating an entire online community. “If you feel cold, how would you say it without the word ‘cold’?” analogises Emma, otherwise known as English YouTuber WhispersRed ASMR. Her channel now reaches 256,742 subscribers (as of Jan 2017) with total views hitting just under 58,000,000. Her videos range from hair brushing and whispered makeup tutorials to flavoured tea collections – all with soft lighting and soft noises designed to induce relaxation in any gender and age group.

Growing in followers by the day, these channels upload videos designed to trigger ASMR in viewers and listeners. Thousands of hours’ worth of content packed with stimuli to make you feel hypnotically relaxed and to battle insomnia – sounds like any stressed student’s dream.

“On every video, there’s at least one comment saying ‘I’m studying at the moment’”, Emma tells me of her viewers. She recalls, “When I was studying I was super stressed… If I had had a YouTube app on a phone that would have been absolutely amazing.”

Just the ticket for anybody mid-exam stress, then – but it’s worth mentioning that the ASMR corner of YouTube is often, at first glance, a bizarre haven. First-time viewers can find videos surreal, confusing or downright disturbing. “The weird stigma’s always going to be here,” says 22-year-old Tony of ASMR channel TonyBomboni (ASMRer), which has racked up over 193,000 subscribers and a total of 53,000,000 views since its creation in 2012. It is eclectic to say the least, from spiritual guides and a ‘sassy maid’ role play to videos about herbs, ice cream shops and jewellery – a range he explains is purposeful to cater for his varied audience. Still, he doesn’t hesitate to admit that it’s not always immediately understood. “When people first approached my videos they were like, “What the hell is this?” Then I see commenters come back and say “I love you and this is amazing.””

Tony Bomboni “pampers” you youtube.com

So if it’s helping thousands of people relax and battle stress… Why the stigma at all? Emma suggests that natural childhood reactions to comfort, closeness and safety become linked more and more to sexuality as we grow up. Of her own childhood, she says, “I’m from up North- there weren’t people meditating or doing yoga! We’re worried about what we should be thinking, not what we are thinking. With all the advertising and films, when a woman comes up close to a camera [people assume] it’s because she wants to turn you on.” Tony adds that he tries “to look past the five percent who finds it a disturbing thing, a creepy thing.”

Even in the face of judgement or criticism, there is no shortage of positive testimony. ASMR could well be life-changing, especially in times of acute stress such as experienced by overworked students. “Thankfully I discovered [ASMR] when I was finishing up my senior year of high school,” says Tony. “I began feeling less depressed, less anxious because of the community.” Meanwhile, both ‘ASMRtists’ are inundated with messages of thanks for the support and help they have provided viewers. “Helping them stop taking their medications for anxiety was a big one for me,” reveals Tony, although crucially Emma cautions that “if you are anxious or depressed and you need help, seek some counselling – but [ASMR] could help you sleep as a complement.”

Rightly so. A relatively new and little researched phenomenon, it’s difficult to prescribe ASMR as the missing piece of the puzzle. “The main thing we could know is what chemical reaction happens,” Emma says of potential ASMR research. “But the thing is, it takes a long time for a study to be published.” So far, the most cutting edge knowledge can be found at asmruniversity.com.

Yet for those who experience ASMR, anecdotal evidence seems quite enough. Even if the ASMR stimuli don’t provide the “tingles” that fill the comments under each video, it still seems a sacred, happy community in the vicious consumer world of YouTube. “People don’t go to videos like this to be told to ‘subscribe’ or to ‘buy this’ and ‘buy that’,” Emma reassures me. Both ‘ASMRtists’ sing the highest praises of the community and its supportive members – and it’s certain that although the odd internet ‘troll’ is sadly inescapable, they are almost non-existent under ASMR videos.

  youtube.com

Thinking ASMR might be for you? Emma and Tony are both adamant that watching a range is essential. “You have to find what works for you,” Emma advises. “It’s worth trying – just be open minded!” And it certainly seems that if it does work for you, it could be an absolute game-changer.

So if you feel ready to keep that open mind and have a go at something that really could revolutionise the way you handle stress, concentration or insomnia… Grab your best quality headphones, turn off autoplay, and settle down with a sturdy wifi connection. Here are my top picks to try out ASMR:

Hair Brushing, Scalp Massage ASMR – WhispersRed

The Most Relaxing ASMR Video Ever Made – Tony Bomboni

Brushing, Massage, Crinkles – WhispersRed

Older Sister Roleplay  – LilyWhispers

Men’s Shave – DR PHILL

6. Intense Tapping – Fred’s Voice

7. Tapping Nails – BlossomASMR