#or a strawberry jello slime girl

[poccharihime]

They should make hrt that makes you a strawberry milk cow

[xiestart]

Just a cute little strawberry jello girl

[cutexslime]

"What exactly are you MADE of? Jello or some kind of strawberry pudding?" *A small but pale girl asked.

"Actually, my whole body is made entirely out of pink slime." Pinkie said to the small girl. "By the way, my name's Pinkie."

@the-i-d-f-l-hq

[cosmooze]

@fieldbracer​ said: [ run ] for your muse to run their fingers through mine’s hair

nonverbal memes

“Yeah! Sure, you can touch it! I dunno if it’s gonna be what you expect though.”

Emere’s hair was hair in the loosest possible sense. It was hair in that it looked like it, from a distance. It was long, and a slightly darker pink than the rest of her. But the truth was, it was simply the rest of her. Coated in the same membrane as her body it was smooth to the touch and very squishy if squeezed.

It was also... Nice, for her. It was a pleasant sensation and her “hair” was basically just backup Emere, a battery, a supply of energy and spare cells if she left any behind. She didn’t keep anything important in there otherwise so there was no risk to either of them touching it.

“Just be careful you don’t press too hard or you’ll-”

Sink through the outside. Her whole body shivered and kind of wavered in surprise, but she made no other movements. “-Yeah, like that.” It was... Well, what you’d probably expect of someone who appeared like they were made of slime. Much like the outside of her, but the lack of a membrane made it wetter, like a jello that had yet to finish setting. 

Pretty sweet smelling too, she’d eaten a whole bucket of strawberries today so that aroma was instantly noticeable. She had the good graces not ro reform the membrane around the girl’s hand, she’d just wait until she was done she supposed.

[sleepysculptor]

Diagnosis: Lifelong

When I was diagnosed this time I was told,

Many people are able to cope with this the rest of their lives.

I know the word cope is supposed to bring me this immense sense of hope

Hand delivered on a silver platter to the girl who’s had more diagnosis than she can remember.

Instead I wonder how long the “rest of their lives” is.

Because the thing is everyone is coping, until they aren’t.

How many stopped being able to cope,

Tapped out early from this internal wrestling match Where you are both the hopeful underdog and seasoned scary powerhouse?

Because the thing is, I feel like I’m drowning in jello.

It’s a slow slimey death to say the least.

People look at me and say “Just pull yourself out of it, it’s not that hard,

Just try changing your perspective it might help.

I had a sister in law who got stuck in jello,

Yoga really helped her,

Have you tried yoga?”

As if changing my perspective would teleport me to safer ground.

Or as if yoga while you’re stuck in jello would actually help.

It’s jello deborah. It’s not going to work.

It’s as if every time I think I have enough momentum to escape,

There’s an earthquake, the bowl shakes, I feel faint,

I lose my hold, my grip on reality as I sink, suffocating, in strawberry flavored slime.

Sometimes the earthquake is realizing a cup is chipped, canceled plans, candle not lighting, or a family member dying.

Unfortunately there are no building codes that can be updated after the last disaster to lower future damages.

Many people are able to cope with this the rest of their lives.

Except coping sounds like surviving,

There’s a reason it’s called survival mode,

It’s not much of a life, filled with strife

But it will get you to a point where your body is no longer convinced it's being chased by a knife.

No knife equals safe life.

Except your body is convinced it’s never safe.

High alert or energy conservation mode.

Running from everything

Afraid that everyone, everything is out there to hurt.

Something is after you.

Except there’s nothing after you.

It’s just you.

Surviving is different than thriving.

In the end you lose you.

Surviving is dropping out of classes because you couldn't get your ass out of bed.

Because too many times your body decided you were the enemy and fought against you all day.

Tooth and nail your body sets you up to fail.

It’s feeling like you’re a ghost inhabiting your body because of how much you disassociate, and how much you’re just going through the motions, that is, if you can even go through the motions.

Surviving is different than thriving.

Many people are able to cope for the rest of their lives.

But when does it stop qualifying as “being able to cope?”

When it’s 2am and you haven’t slept for days and the streetlights outside look so warm and welcoming, surrounded by haze,

Not remembering it's february and freezing until you hug the lamppost and its cold seizes your hollow body,

Bringing your mind back down to reality,

Where your teeth are chattering

And your body, blue, is shattering from the cold but you're too numb to feel it.

When you want it to be noticed that you're not in bed,

But you're terrified he'll realize you're crazy.

When anything is better than this empty ache you feel

So you drown your tears in scotch,

look at your watch and ask “how long have I been crying?”

When coping no longer works so you’re just hoping that someone picks up.

Because you’re looking for a way out of the final  way out.

Many people are able to cope with this for the rest of their lives.

But “The rest of their lives” means nothing when this illness cuts it short.

[littlewritingcorner]

Sick Days: Day 9

Title: When Parties Suck Fandom: Voltron Main Character: Katie Holt, Matt Holt, Shiro Warnings: Vomiting

@sickdaysofficial @sickandvomiting

Katie regrets going to a Garrison holiday party so much more than she thought. Luckily, her brother and Shiro are around to lend a hand,

Katie closed her eyes tightly against the bright lights in the bathroom, hoping to ignore the stabbing pain at her temples. The way her heart was pounding in her chest was making her dizzy and, if  possible, even more nauseas than when she’d arrived to the Garrison Holiday party that evening with her family.

She didn’t want to admit how sick she felt to her family, knowing her father would usher the four of them home before she could blink. She didn’t want to ruin the festivities for her family, and she rather enjoyed being able to pick the minds of the brilliant scientists that always attended. She’d thought she could ignore the dull headache she’d woken up with that morning and the chills running down her spine. It was winter after all, of course she was cold! Just an hour into the party though and her head had been spinning. The smell of sweet meats and heady spiced wines clung to her nostrils and turned her stomach quickly.

She’d pulled away from her brother maybe fifteen minutes ago when her stomach had groaned and gone suddenly hallow and too full at the same time. She was not going to make a mess of herself in the middle of the party.

The quiet solace of the bathroom had been welcoming at first. The moment she’d locked the door and leaned against it the hollowness in her stomach disappeared and the headache dulled considerably.

She’d thought she would be fine. She sat down on the toilet lid, catching her breath and pressing her face into her hands. Just a few minutes and she’d be good to go back out there and finish the night off. No problem. She just needed a minute of quiet.

That minute had turned into two, then three, than five very quickly. Whenever she dared start to straighten up she could feel her stomach groan and gurgle angrily at her. She panted, resting her palm over the mess and tried as long as she could to calm it down. She could feel the cold sweat prickling along her skin and the pressure building in her chest and finally had to give in. She’d forced herself to the sink, mostly hoping the change in position would help and eventually her body would get used to it again.

The churning only grew worse.

A fuzzy darkness danced at the edges of her vision and she swallowed a nervous hiccough. Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the sink, using it as crutch to help her kneel down and press her forehead against the cabinet. She refused to pass out in the bathroom. Refused.

This was awful. She couldn’t be sick. She just couldn’t. She was chanting it in her head as she let the cool wood press against her burning forehead, hoping to quell the dizziness until a sharp heave surprised her.

She stood up as quickly as she could and fumbled for the tap to run the water as loudly as she could. Luckily the party was still going strong downstairs and she’d snuck off to one of the more secluded bathrooms. Another sharp heave constricted her chest as she white-knuckled the large porcelain sink and bent as far over as she dared. The less mess to clean up the better.

She wanted to yank the hair tie from her wrist but knew she didn’t have the time for it as a sick burp rumbled up her throat, bringing a sharp acidic sting with it. She gagged again and hastily grabbed her hair back in one hand, bracing herself on the sink with the other before the next gag nearly sent her to her knees, spilling her stomach into the sink.

She was shaking harshly, trying not to look at the mess splattered in front of her being washed away by the running water. She whimpered as her stomach heaved again and vomited up a second wave, then a third. She’d let her hair go to brace herself over the sink better, knowing her legs would give out if she didn’t.

She spat the sour spit clinging to her tongue into the mess, then cupped her hands under the water to rinse her mouth out. Her head was still spinning but her stomach felt empty at least. Her hands were shaking as she rinsed the bowl and then her face, glad that she never wore make-up, and yet wishing she had something to hide the bright flush staining her ghostly skin.

“You’re ok. You’re ok, Katie. It’s over,” she breathed and pushed away from the sink. She took a deep, slow breath and then turned the water off. She had this. And if she didn’t get back to Matt soon he would come looking for her without a doubt. She glanced at her watch a realized she’d been in the bathroom for an hour. Suddenly she was even more glad that she’d snuck away from the first floor or she’d have been found out for sure.

She made her way shakily down the stairs again, smiling naturally and hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt. No one batted an eye at her, too distracted by the party and other guests. It looked like they’d just brought out a large tiered cake for the party as well that people were already snacking on.

She swallowed thickly and tried to find herself a quiet corner to get her bearings in. She couldn’t spot Matt or her parents, though admittedly she hadn’t looked hard. The thought of entering the hot throng of people made her head spin in ways she didn’t want to imagine. Her main goal was just quiet seclusion until she could stand entering the mass of socialization again. She found her way to the back of the room and leaned against the full-length glass doors leading out to the patio. She was shivering, but the cold stopped her head from spinning so much.

“Are you alright, miss?” a deep voice asked calmly and Katie opened her eyes – when had she closed them? – too look up at the young man standing in front of her. Tall, dark hair, even darker eyes. Eyes watching her with a great deal of concern just then and she wondered how bad she looked. Quickly she stood up straighter and smiled up at him.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, frowning at how weak her voice sounded. The young man frowned and nodded at her, wandering back off. Katie sighed, assuming she was out of the woods until he came back, a glass of water in his hand.

“Why don’t you take a seat? I don’t do well with these parties either,” he smiled and lead Katie over to the nearest chair without waiting for an answer. Katie was too surprised and tired to fight it if she’d wanted too. Still, she pulled herself up right and forced a warm smile on her face. Personality aside, she was raised in a family where these niceties had been ingrained into her; at least for publicities sake.

“Thank you,” she said as she accepted the glass and took a few hesitant sips. It calmed her throat but she could distinctly feel the cold water settle in her stomach and decided it was much smarter not to tempt fate.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Where’s you’re family? I’ll get them for you.”

“No! No, I’m fine. Really. Just a little tired. I think I was standing too long or something,” she laughed and the man smiled kindly in a way that said he obviously didn’t believe her.

“I’m Shiro. Nice to meet you.”

“Katie,” she said politely, chancing a second sip at the water to keep up the facade that she was fine.

“Katie! There you are. Where did you sneak off too?” Matt smiled, waving her down as he quickly skirted across the floor, a plate of cake in his hands. “Oh, Shiro! You’ve met my sister.”

Shiro’s brow raised and he looked at the girl. “Oh, we’d just introduced ourselves. I didn’t realize you were Matt’s sister.”

“What?” Katie asked, her head reeling painfully as she tried to process the new information.

“Shiro’s our pilot. I’ve told you about him before,” Matt grinned happily before handing her the plate in his hand.

“I saved you a piece with the flower. I know it’s your favorite,” he laughed and then sat down next to Shiro, striking up a conversation Katie sadly couldn’t be bothered to follow. Her head was already starting to pound a steady rhythm behind her eyes with every heartbeat. The world felt like she were swimming through jello. Sticky and slow and just plain gross.

She stared at the sweet cake in her lap and bit her lip, feeling her stomach give a threatening gurgle. She did love the cake, and sweets in general, but right now… and Matt had brought it over just for her.

“Katie, everything ok?” he asked and she perked up, blushing at the two pairs of eyes staring at her. “You’re not touching your cake,” he pointed out and she laughed.

“Sorry, just spacing out,” she said and took a decent forkful of the strawberry flavored whipped cream flower and swallowed it. She regretted it instantly but smiled happily anyway, taking another bite of cake and strawberries that time. It was sickly sweet and her throat didn’t want to swallow the gob of food in her mouth but she forced it anyway. Matt looked appeased and went back to discussing the Kerabose mission with Shiro that they’d be taking in a few more months.

Katie stared at the remaining piece of cake on her lap and took a breath, a sip of water, and then did her best to force herself to finish the piece. Each bite was torture. Every swallow was a struggle and what should have been a delicious treat settled like rocks. With a few bites left to go her stomach was cramping and groaning dangerously. She could image the food refusing to dissolve and curdling her insides.

She felt bloated and sick and couldn’t get the sweet slime off her tongue no matter how much water she drank. Before she’d realized it she’d finished the glass in her desperate attempt to  remove the thick film from her mouth and all it was doing was sloshing around as her body attempted to digest the sweet. She put the plate to the side, regretting every choice she’d made that day. She should have just said she was too full for cake!

“Oh, this is your favorite song. C’mon, let me prove to Shiro I don’t have two left feet,” Matt laughed and reached out for Katie’s hand, oblivious to his sister’s discomfort. He’d clearly had a couple glasses of Champaign already.

“Matt… I don’t think so…” she swallowed and gripped the arm rest with one hand, her other settled protectively over her stomach in a desperate attempt to keep it steady. She loved dancing with Matt at these things, they were fun! And she was competitive and they always impressed the crowd, but the thought of even standing just then was too much.

“What? Are you too shy to dance with your big brother now? C’mon,” he laughed and tugged Katie up easily. The sudden shift had her vision blacking out and the throbbing in her head intensifying. She stumbled and clutched to Matt who was suddenly completely sober and reaching to steady his sister’s shoulders.

“Katie? Hey, are you ok?” he asked softly, gently pushing his sister away to look at her face. She’d gone white as a sheet and was trembling in his hands. “Katie?” he pressed again before cupping her cheek and frowning. “You’re burning up,” he breathed, looking to Shiro helplessly.

“I can get one of the doctors,” he offered but Katie shook her head, fisting Matt’s jacket tightly and ducking her head.

“N-no…” she stuttered, feeling acid in her throat again and tears stinging at her eyes. She didn’t have time for that. “Get me o-out of here,” she choked out.

“Katie–“

“Please!” she urged, covering her mouth and hiccoughing. Matt paled considerably and Shiro stepped in.

“I’ll take care of her. You go get your parents,” Shiro spoke as he easily swept Katie up into his arms. She squeaked and curled into his chest desperately, not noticing the gasps and eyes following them as Shiro hurriedly carried her to the bathroom. She was beyond embarrassed as he excused them through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom with her. She slumped in front of the toilet, not caring about her dress anymore and barely registering the strong hand holding her hair back or stroking between her shoulders.

“Oh god,” she choked, gagging sharply over the bowl and tasting strawberries. She was embarrassed to have been carried, but knew she’d have thrown up in the middle of the party if Shiro hadn’t done it. She was already frozen in place.

“Easy. Easy. You’ll be alright,” Shiro spoke softly, not flinching when she let out a sickly belch that brought up a thin stream of liquid. It was quickly followed by a heave that brought a flood of undigested cake and strawberries into the bowl.

“There. it’s ok. You’ll be ok,” he soothed as Katie’s stomach purged itself of the sweet food. It cramped more painfully and Katie pressed her arms against it. Her muscles convulsed with every heave as it sought to bring up every last bit of food she’d possibly eaten the entire day. She panted over the bowl, tears flowing from her eyes and shuddering sobs racking her body and upsetting her stomach even more.

There was a hand pressed against her chest. She knew it was Shiro probably trying to prevent her from falling face first into the toilet and drowning. She was too sick to care about the fact that this man she’d never met before had his hand in her breastbone.

“Katie? Oh, sweetheart,” her father gasped and thanked Shiro as he took his place behind his daughter, brushing her hair back. “I’m here, baby. Dad’s here. We’re going to get you home, alright?” he soothed, holding her as another heave brought up more bile. A small commotion had started outside of the door as word spread that someone was sick but Katie was too far gone to notice.

“M’sorry… I’m… sorry,” she sobbed as the heaving stopped. Her dad hushed her and flushed the mess, wiping her mouth off before she curled into his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Just relax. You’ll be alright,” he cooed as she cried into his chest like she hadn’t since she was a little girl. Katie had never felt so exposed and embarrassed before in her entire life! She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“Dad? Mom’s got our coats, and General Livda got us a trash bag if we need it…” Matt said gently. “Thanks for the help, Shiro. I wish you two hadn’t met like this. Katie’s going to be mortified tomorrow.”

Shiro looked over and moved out of the way as Mrs. Holt shuffled in with Katie’s jacket and helped get their daughter settled and up into Mr. Holt’s arms.

“Something tells me she won’t really remember me out of all of this,” he shrugged and watched Katie being carried out of the bathroom, half conscious. One of the doctor’s offered to look her over but the Holt’s decided it was better to just get their daughter home and take her to the doctors in the morning. A flu was something they could handle on their own in the privacy of their home.

“I’ll see you later, Shiro.”

“Yeah. Tell Katie I hope she feels better soon,” he waved after them. Katie cracked an eye open as she was carried out the door, blushing at the people watching them and curling tighter into her dad’s chest. This was hands down the worst, absolute worst, party she had ever been to. She had no idea how she could ever face any of these people again the next year.