citruslullabies

[citruslullabies]

I love you cunt ass bitch :3

Love you too Touya<333

[citruslullabies]

Reblog this if it’s okay to DM you and shoot the friendship shot.

[citruslullabies]

Hear me out hear me out

Captain Curly x reader .. but it's after the crash. Curly never really saw reader in a certain light before, but now that they are starting to take care of him, he "loves" them. Or moreso mistakes his feelings of codependency as falling in love

You're All I Have

Consciousness was strained and barely hanging on by a thread. Pain, however, forced Curly to be aware, to understand what was happening to him, even if he was exhausted and mentally ravaged. It only eased when the pills kicked in, and taking those was a chore. It hurt, it all hurt no matter what.

Curly wished it would all stop, he would pass out and maybe wake up to a world where this wasn't his reality.

But then, he reasoned, watching the doors carefully, he wouldn't be aware of your visits.

Being a janitor on the Tulpar, your hours were flipped from all the others. You crept out at night, taking care of everything that could result in sickness or disrepair to the ship. Curly had to let you into the cockpit a few times too, so he knew your work was important.

He never noticed, however, how tired you always looked doing what you did. Cleaning wasn't really the most interesting activity, and your hours kept you away from the others, so you weren't interacting with many folks. It had to be lonely.

Curly could relate some, now. Besides Anya and Jimmy, he didn't really get visits from the others, and those two who were around weren't ever much for conversation.

But you, with your new duty of watching over Curly's condition at night, were fine to talk with him for hours. You whose touch was feather light on his charred skin. You who would coax water into him, massaging his throat to help it down. Hell, you even got him swallowing some of the softer food, guiding bites to the back of his throat where reflexes would take care of the rest.

Curly felt a little more human with you. He could watch your hands carefully wind his bandages for hours, washing them and disinfecting them before reapplying them with what medicine you could find. You covered his remaining eye in a wet cloth so it didn't dry out, talking him into a state so close to sleep.

Sometimes, if he was lucky, you'd even sing. Slow and soothing songs would spill out of you, every hiccup in tone or lyric followed by a breathy laugh and a smile Curly couldn't believe he never noticed before. It was hard to smile nowadays, but here, tucked away in the med bay, you shared them with him, and only him.

Your hand drifted down his cheek, just barely there for him to feel. Curly sighed, leaning into your touch despite how his skin protested the stretch. He wished he could speak more than just rasps of a dry throat. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he appreciated you doing this for him.

He could only groan, though.

You nodded. "Yeah, I bet." Grabbing a small cup of water, you eased Curly's head upright, helping him drink. "We'll get picked up, so don't worry, Curls. We'll get ya a real doctor with equipment and shit, not this poser and their terrible beside manner, yeah?"

Curly grumbled best he could without choking on the water. It earned him a smirk, tired and dazzling.

"I'm gonna help ya get better." You promised him. "And soon you'll be bossing us around again."

Nah. Curly didn't want that. He didn't want to be your boss or your coworker. He wanted to take care of you, though. Wanted you to take care of him too. Once he healed, as much as he could possibly heal, he'd hope you'd stick around. Let him lean on you some more, sing to him some more, ease his nerves and his pain.

He'd repent, beg forgiveness, tell you the truth and then some. He'd work hard, with Anya and everyone, to make sure things were fixed for the better. He'd get better. He would. He promised.

So please. . . don't go.

You were all he had.

[citruslullabies]

Mom, I don’t know how to write an essay. I’m sorry to ask momma, please. Can you help me write my argument essay?

No need to apologize sweetheart!

Let momma help you, okay? It's real easy once you get the hang of it.

First you want to provide an introduction. Context behind your argument, and use trustworthy resources to back it up.

This would be your title. We'll just say it's "Argumentative Essay"

This would be an introduction, you want a hook that provides context for your argument and where you present your argument. Don't be afraid to start bold, lay it on thick. Let's say that this is an argumentative essay about Narwhals being the best critter in the ocean, I would start by saying "Many people when they think about sea creatures think about sharks or whales. Well I think that they should first think about Narwhals because they're best, and I'll tell you why they are." This introduction can be a short paragraph, but still, a paragraph

Now. Here is where you want to make your first point with strong evidence to back up your claims. Remember, this is not a persuasive essay, this is an argumentative essay. Many people get these mixed up, but an argumentative essay holds no emotions and uses nothing but facts to prove a claim. When you write an argumentative essay, you want to have data points backed up by concrete evidence. This is also going to be a paragraph.

Another paragraph, and it's to prove your second point. Remember, concrete evidence that you can back up. And you need to write it professionally, so don't be scared to step out of your comfort zone a bit to use bigger words! Think of it like you're arguing with your friends, but take it more seriously. This paragraph can be roughly the same as your last.

Now this is what I consider to be the most important supporting evidence paragraph. Never go past three paragraphs unless you have to, but three points should be solid. You always want your last one to be the biggest piece of supporting evidence to leave your readers or listeners thinking. End it with strong evidence and a strong point, argumentative essays tend to fail whenever it ends with a weak point. This is also where you could consider the opposite side of your argument, and rebuttal it. Prove it wrong. But just have it somewhere, it can even be its own paragraph if need be.

In conclusion, this is your last paragraph. Restate your introduction if you'd like, but summarize those points.

I hope this helped!!

[citruslullabies]

flat fuck friday

[citruslullabies]

I am LITERALLY going to eat your OC up

Oh the consequences of turning a blind eye…..

Hi everyone! The very lovely and VERY talented @art-beyond-the-stars drew my silly oc with curly! i'm so very happy with how it turned out!!

Say hi to Rowan! The Tulpar's night-shift janitor that's a bit too good at minding their own business. . .

[citruslullabies]

Mom, how do I write a professional email??

Awh hey sweetheart!

So when you're writing a professional email, whether it be to your professor or your boss, or really just anyone there are some easy formats!!

So depending on who you're writing to will fluctuate on how professional it has to be. Im just gonna write an example, this is how I would normally write a professional email

"Dear Anon,

This is how you want to write a professional email. Do not indent!! This is not an essay but an email. Think of it just like how you would write a letter if you ever have. This can be the brunt of your email, aka, the largest part. But you can have more large paragraphs if necessary.

This is normally the smallest part of your email, just a summarization or a highlight of important parts or questions about what you previously wrote. It's usually around 2-3 sentences, short and sweet!

I hope this helped.

Thank you for asking.

Sincerely,

Citrus Lullabies"

I know many people often put their address and such in emails too at the end, but once again it really depends what it's for.

Also please use sincerely instead of like, "love", because saying "sincerely, Anon" is much more professional than "Love, Anon".

Let me know if this helped!!

[citruslullabies]

Going by username: cubical lamb chop!

Going by my name: fidgety rutabaga!

@bumblehoneybee

@peachypedereblogs

@theveniceangel

@g0dwat3r

tag yourself i'm his little meowing dodecahedron

[citruslullabies]

I wanna cut through a coin but I don't wanna get in trouble with the law... And pay money for destroying money...

Saw this on Pinterest and didn’t want to risk it especially now that’s my grandpa’s in the hospital

[citruslullabies]

Your art is delicious and it's in my belly now

commission I did for @bellafragolina ❤️

[citruslullabies]

the way you draw yourself gives off lesbian vibes/pos

Thanks

[citruslullabies]

Im literally going to eat your page

[citruslullabies]

Important!!

Hi everyone, quick update on these assholes in the Mouthwashing tags.

These are new accounts, so those of you who are already aware of what is happening, I recommend blocking these as well.

To those who are unaware:

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

These individuals have been DMing users and spamming the Mouthwashing tags with:

——-—————————————————————————

Videos depicting:

* LIVE animal mutilation/torture/death.

* REAL videos of individuals being executed.

* REAL videos depicting extreme sexual fetishes.

Such as: sexual organ removal, scat fetish, vomit fetish, etc.

* As well as harassing users in the comments of their posts with slurs or promoting the legalization of rape.

———————————————————————————

These individuals are DMing users or sending Asks, so that you are forced to see these videos upon opening the chat.

Please be advised and recommend that your followers BLOCK and REPORT these individuals in advance so that less people have to see these horrific videos.

Also feel free to add more tags so that this will reach a wider audience and we can hopefully prevent anyone else from having to see this.

[citruslullabies]

The art style?? Oh my god???

my mouthwashing animation!

Tw: blood, gun, knife, suicide, Jimmy

[citruslullabies]

IM SCREAMING

Anything daisuke !!! Please I love that sunshine boy

Yet the Sun Still Rises

The beds on the Tulpar are really just shit. A box of cardboard would be more comfortable than the decrepit mattress they found in bulk at an estate sale. But at least they were beds.

Now all you have are scattered blankets and a thread-bare pillow. Exhaustion drags at your face, especially around your eyes, where gravity lays extra thick. It's hard to sleep with all the sounds of a dying spaceship, of people struggling to hang on just one more day.

You rub the back of your hand to your tired eyes, then rest it atop your forehead. Maybe you're getting sick; you should talk with Anya when it's "day" again.

A face presses to your neck.

You don't even flinch at this point, just curling your arm around Daisuke's neck as he molds himself into your side. It's unspoken, but well known, the need for comfort on both sides. So you drag the tips of your fingers over his face, tracing his features, before carefully carding them through his hair.

"It's. . ." Daisuke can barely be heard over the hum of broken machinery. You rub at your eyes again to distract yourself from it all, but to no avail. "It's another day tomorrow."

"Hm. And another. And another. And another."

The arms curled around your waist tighten their hold. "It's going to be a lot of days here." He pauses, turning further into your neck like he can hide from the reality of it. "It's gonna be the rest of our days here."

"Maybe." You whisper. "Or maybe they're on their way."

"Maybe." Daisuke hums.

It's not often the optimism fails, but the artificial darkness (or perhaps this is the real darkness, the light the only false thing-), fears creep up your spine and latch at the base of your brain. Is this it? The rest of your days living like this, hoping for nothing?

You don't like that possibility. You choose to believe something else.

But what else is there to believe?

"I want the rest of my days to be with you." Daisuke says, startling you with how. . . certain he sounds. "M-maybe it'll be here. Or maybe we'll go home. You could meet my parents." Guilt is crushing your throat. "They'll like you. A lot."

"I like you." You say through the lump in your throat. "A lot."

There's a smile against your skin, soft and warm and precious.

You choose to believe in the sun rising again.

[citruslullabies]

GRAHHHHH

I saw you take requests and I was soo happy!! I rlly loved that “easy smiles” Drabble u wrote abt curly n reader, so I’d like to request (pre-crash) having a late night conversation with him where reader is getting burnt out/struggling mentally and he can kind of tell? Romantic/platonic r both fine, maybe js some comfort from our fav captain? :) augehghh i want a hug from him so bad. if u don’t feel like writing this that’s more than okay, have a great timezone!! <3

You Can Talk To Me

He doesn't mean to catch you in such a vulnerable moment.

Curly only meant to get some water after hitting the john, but as he shuffles into the lounge, all he can hear is your shaky breathing. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, heart picking up speed as he spots you sat on the couch with your head tilted over the back, staring up at the ceiling.

You only notice him when he calls your name, stood at the edge of the couch.

"Ah," you snap your head up, obviously twinging the muscles of your neck, "oof." You rub the knots out, flashing a weak smile for Curly as he settles onto the couch next to you. "Aha. . . hi, Captain."

"Are you okay?" Curly asks, hands raised and unsure of what to do. Anya is asleep, and he's no real doctor himself, so the options for immediate help are limited.

"Oh, I'm fine." You waft your free hand at him. The lights of the fake window douse your skin in an almost sickly color, like all the blood is gone from your face. Your eyes look dull too. "Just, y'know. . ."

There's a long pause. Seems you can't think of anything to make an excuse out of.

Curly sits next to you, and tries to think. You've always been so. . . jolly, quick with jokes and ideas to lighten the mood. He knows you can't always be happy, but he's never been privy to the moments when your guard falls. This is a first for him, and he's surprisingly nervous.

He's comforted most everyone on this ship. He knows how to do it. So why does the thought of comforting you and doing it wrong scare him so much?

"You know. . ." Curly starts, frantically grasping at the words that are usually so easy. "I know it may seem. . . unprofessional, since I'm technically your boss-"

"You're captain." You agree with a nod that you immediately regret. The rubbing gets faster.

Curly huffs at you, burying amusement under concern. "You can talk to me. I'm higher up, but I'm not one of them." He gestures to the nearest poster of Polle. You shoot the horse a glare on instinct, but your face is quick to fall. "I just want you safe and happy."

The quiet returns, and with it his offer hangs heavy over the two of you. You stare down at your lap, hand still loosely clinging to your neck. Curly tries not to stare at you, but god, your eyes just look so. . . sad.

He wishes he could take your hand, show you he's here for you. But that wouldn't be smart, would it?

A heavy sigh rushes out of your nose. "I guess I'm just getting a little tired." Your face pinches as you say it, so Curly lets you piece your words together. "It gets repetitive, y'know? Everything is the same, day in and day out. I try my best, cause I know everyone here is feeling the same kinda stir crazy I am, but. . . I'm tired."

Curly lunges forward as your shoulders sag, palm pressed to the space between them before he can think better of it. "Yeah?"

"I miss plants." You tell him. "Trees, flowers, grass. I miss the sky and the sun. These damn monitors-" You throw an arm towards the screen in front of your both, face screwed up in disgust. "I hate them. They're not even close to something real. Hell, I'd take looking out into space over them."

Curly's thumb has started rubbing into the base of your neck without him realizing. He can't bring himself to stop, though.

"Back home, I could just visit somewhere new, meet new people, pet a dog and smell enough flowers to give myself asthma." You laugh a little at yourself. Curly smiles, and you return it, sheepish. "Sorry. I do like all of you. I hope I don't sound like I'm sick of ya."

"We like you too." Curly says with a pat on the back. "I get it, though. Days can blend together here, drive you crazy." An idea wiggles into his head, one he can't dismiss, even if it's technically against protocol. "If you want a change in scenery, I could show ya the cockpit?"

Your head snaps up again, and this time Curly is the one to rub the wince from your neck. "Really??" You flounder suddenly, and it strikes just how close he is to you. His face burns as he eases back, hand tingling from the touch of your skin. "I mean. . . if it's alright! I don't wanna impose if you're busy."

"Nah," Curly waves the worry away, "it's nothing. Hell, I could teach you how to fly, if you're interested?"

"Very much!" You chirp.

The lights dim further, probably a code Pony Express programmed to save energy while the crew slept. It didn't matter, though, for your grin and bright eyes lit up the entire damn spaceship.

You have never smiled at him like this before. Curly desperately wants you to do so every day, though.

"Then we'll do a lesson tomorrow." Curly says. He stands up, a hand offered to you. You take it, squeezing his hand before you let it go. "Try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Aye aye, Captain." You do a mock salute, striding off with a wave. "Sweet dreams!" As you pass through the door, you make sure to bow. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow!"

With you gone, Curly lets a grin take over his face, hiding it behind his hand.

Seems he's getting some alone time with you tomorrow. He's going to be having sweet dreams indeed.

[citruslullabies]

hi Ms.Flaire, are you okay with writing a Daisuke and Anya fic..? It's not intended as a ship, but I would like just something short and sweet, maybe a little hurt comfort. like .. she tells Daisuke about what happened to her, and he comforts her. Im sorry to ask for such a thing, but as someone who has been in her shoes before. I crave for that feeling of comfort that I was never given.

Of course dear. I understand, I've been in her shoes too.

Trigger warnings: heavier than what I would normally write. Talks about rape and the experience, just overall heavy.

Romantic/platonic?: platonic

Requested by: anonymous

Category: comfort fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Anya x Daisuke

Word count: 627

Vultures

Anya hadn't been the same.

She felt disgusting in her own skin and felt like hands were creeping along her at all times, a possessive hold that made her want to throw up. All thanks to one man that ruined her life.

She couldn't bear to be around anyone very closely. They were all men and after what happened with one, she feared all of them. She feared their hands and their mouths and the way they'd approach. She felt as if she was an animal on the side of the road, not yet roadkill, being circled by vultures. Helpless and defenseless to anything that may happen. Unaware if they would swoop down to hurt her more.

The nurse couldn't even look in the mirror anymore, feeling a sense of dread whenever she looked at herself. Knowing that she had been violated and that her tormentor would get away with it since they were in the middle of space, and who would believe her when they got home to earth? It was painful. It was isolating. She felt so alone.

One young man had noticed her behavior, one that used to make her smile and laugh with his silly drawings and silly ramblings. Drawings of his were pinned onto the board in her office that she would find herself staring at, and yet they managed to make her feel so much more alone than before. One day, Daisuke came to talk to her. To see what was wrong.

He walked inside and saw Anya sitting on a stool, holding a printed photograph of an ultrasound in her shaky hands. She felt violated on the inside and the outside. A part of him would forever remain inside of her and it made her want to throw up. She hadn't even noticed Daisuke through her horror.

“Anya..?”

The sweet accented voice penetrated the thick air, and yet she couldn't look up at him. Couldn't respond. She continued to stare at the very thing inside of her that would forever haunt her and remind her of what Jimmy did to her. Daisuke approached nervously and took a peek at the printed photo in her hands, confused as to what it meant. Whenever he asked her, she was silent. But when she finally responded it shattered his heart.

Sobs bubbled up her throat as she choked and squeezed the photo tighter, her hands hurting from the sheer adrenaline of fear and panic rushing through her veins as she sobbed out an answer. The more she cried and told what felt like her only friend on this god forsaken ship, the more angry Daisuke became and yet the more sympathetic. He wanted to help her, but what could he do??

Silently, he took the photo out of her hands and replaced it with his own two hands. With a gentle squeeze and his forehead resting against hers, he spoke up softly.

“It'll be okay, Anya.. I'm here. I'm right here.” Is what he whispered ever so quietly, making Anya’s eyes water more as she desperately squeezed his hands and wailed. She couldn't choke up anything more. She felt silenced until now with the fear of what Jimmy would do to her, and yet she felt heard. But no amount of comfort could ever take away the disgust and pain she felt, it could never take away the feeling of wanting to peel her own skin off and rid herself of anything he touched. She wanted to rip her own womb out.

But for now, she just sobbed while Daisuke listened and rubbed his thumb against her knuckles. It was all he could do for now, knowing that he couldn't do anything to Jimmy.

Anya was safe with him. Away from the vultures.

Thank you for requesting!