penguinotapioca

[penguinotapioca]

repeat after me:

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

tumblr is the reblog website

this is not instagram or whatever other like-based social medium, likes don't matter that much, your experience is not shaped by an all-knowing algorithm, but by you and reblogging is the lifeblood of this godforsaken corner of the internet

if you love tumblr and if you want to show your appreciation for the creators of the content here, you reblog

[penguinotapioca]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⤷ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby, Gabriel, Lucifer, Crowley.

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― gender neutral reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

Affection Type: Protective & Physical Dean shows love through acts of service and physical affection, even if he pretends he's not a softie.

He doesn’t say “I love you” out loud—not often, anyway—but you hear it in the way he wraps an arm around your shoulders when you're walking to the car. He always positions himself between you and danger, even if it’s just a rowdy bar. His hand finds yours under motel covers, rough thumb stroking the back of your palm like it’s the only thing grounding him. He calls you “sweetheart” or “baby,” but only when it’s just the two of you, like the words are sacred.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

Affection Type: Gentle & Verbal Sam shows affection through listening and words of affirmation.

With Sam, it’s in the way he remembers everything you’ve ever told him—from your favorite tea to that obscure book series you liked as a kid. He checks in constantly, not out of paranoia but genuine care. “How are you really doing?” he asks, eyes soft with concern. He holds your face like you’re made of glass, kisses your forehead more than your lips. He tells you he loves you—quietly, sincerely—like it’s a prayer.

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

Affection Type: Awkward & Deeply Devoted Cas shows love through devotion and trying to understand humanity—through you.

He watches you when you sleep, not in a creepy way, but like he’s studying a piece of art he’ll never fully comprehend. “Your presence is… comforting,” he says one night, voice almost embarrassed. He doesn’t always get the social cues, but he tries—bringing you coffee with the exact amount of sugar you like, because “Dean said humans find that romantic.” When he kisses you, it’s slow and reverent, like he’s memorizing you.

𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲

Affection Type: Grumpy but Golden-Hearted Bobby shows affection through tough love and acts of provision.

“Idjit,” he mutters when you get hurt, but his hands tremble as he wraps your wound. He’ll never say the L-word, but you wake up to breakfast on the table and your car fixed, and you know that’s his version of a love letter. When you’re upset, he sits next to you in silence until you speak, then listens like it’s the most important intel he’s ever gotten. “You’re family,” he says once, low and gruff. You know what he means.

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

Affection Type: Playful & Surprising Gabriel shows love through humor, gifts, and chaotic affection.

One minute you're arguing about what to watch, the next you’re in Paris eating macarons—because apparently, Netflix arguments call for surprise teleportation. He teases you mercilessly, but never crosses a line. “Can’t take you anywhere without making me fall harder, huh?” he grins. But then there are the quiet nights too, when he dials it all down just to hold your hand in the dark, whispering jokes until you fall asleep smiling.

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

Affection Type: Intense & Possessive Lucifer shows affection with obsessive protection and raw honesty.

Loving you is the one thing that makes him feel even remotely sane. He touches you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, like your existence proves he’s not completely lost. “They think I can’t love,” he says, gaze burning. “But I’d burn down Heaven and Hell for you.” His version of affection is laced with danger, but also unwavering loyalty. You’re his. Not in a controlling way—at least, not when he’s calm. But he’s working on it. For you.

𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲

Affection Type: Snarky & Strategic Crowley shows love through clever manipulation and unexpected sincerity.

He buys you absurdly expensive gifts and pretends he doesn’t care if you like them—but side-eyes you until you compliment his taste. “Darling, if you ever tell anyone I care, I’ll deny it until Judgment Day.” But then he appears out of nowhere when you're in danger, burning through enemies like they're made of paper. “You matter to me more than you should,” he murmurs one night, hand warm on your back. It’s not romantic fluff. It’s real.

[penguinotapioca]

green like the eyes of a certain hedgehog faker

sonic question of the day 20:

[penguinotapioca]

Uno Reverse

Summary: You shit talk about one ex to another

Genre: Sukuna x reader; angst; exes that stay exes; unresolved feelings; Sukuna seemingly likes the word shit a lot here; no curses! au; Sukuna smokes

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Sukuna seems like the guy that is a better ex boyfriend than boyfriend. Clearly I'm going through a phase.

Your friends have urged you out to game night.

“Come!” they begged over the phone, “we can have fun and gossip and you’ll forget about that loser.”

Said loser as in your ex boyfriend of a solid fifteen minutes. Ex boyfriend who’d broken up with you via an offhand phone call that started with “good morning” and ended with, “but seriously, thank you for your time.”

What was this? An exit interview? It’s one thing to break up with you over the phone, it’s another to do it so politically. So emotionless that you’re second guessing these past months, checking if every kiss and affectionate murmur was a figment of your imagination.

So you go to game night in your hottest outfit and do your best to redeem yourself by holding your chin high. Your friends welcome you in, forcing a plate into your hand while everyone crowded around you to get the latest gossip. Once kind sentiments are shared, they do their best by distracting you with card games.

Beating you at card games would be a better way to put it. 

Losing Uno has little meaning when you’d just gotten broken up with not even twelve hours before. Yeah, that draw two kind of sucked, but it’s not the reason why you’re bundled in a patio chair, knees bent to chest and looking up at the stars on your friends’ balcony.

The night air is sharp so you burrow your nose into the neck of your shirt. You breathe out of your mouth to warm up your chest and listen, hoping that your mind, just for a second, can go blank.

The glass door slides open and you find a figure you never expected. The fluorescent light halos his hair in a rosy tint, a lacquered kind of sweetness that you know is undeserving.

“Hey,” you say to your ex boyfriend, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

He grunts. Sukuna steps out, wincing from the cold once his socked feet hit the ground. He doesn’t spare a single glance back at you and simply leans against the metal railing.

It’s just like him to barely acknowledge you so you don’t even bother to clean yourself up, make yourself presentable. Sukuna and you are amicable at best considering that it’s impossible not to see each other with a similar social circle. The two of you broke up and never talked about it, as if stunted in the final remains of whatever relationship you had.

“I heard about what happened,” he finally muffles out with a cigarette in his mouth.

You shake your head, “don’t do this. Not from you.”

The man simply laughs in your face, “you’ve got the shittiest taste in people.”

“Clearly,” you say pointedly, folding your palm out to him.

He offers a cheeky smirk before propositioning, “talk shit about him.”

You can only eye him dubiously, his words feeling like a trap.

“I want to hear it.”

“You’re such a gossip.”

“I’m doing this for you.”

You glare at him, nose twitching as you try and stifle your anger. He has the audacity to look at you sincere, casually bringing his cigarette to his lips. He leans back against the railing and lifts his head to the sky. A deep exhale escapes his lips and you watch his chest depress and the prominent apple along his throat bobble downwards.

It’s a curse to be as attractive as he and he knows it. There’s no leashing down a man who can have whatever he wants with just a simple flicker of his eyes.

“How is me shit talking about my ex to another one of my exes going to benefit me?”

Sukuna’s gaze levels with yours. The balcony light creates stark shadows along his cheekbones, “say all the crappy shit he did out loud. So you can remember exactly how awful he actually was. It doesn’t have to be with me.” Then he smiles that devastating smile of his, “but it’d be funner if it was.”

So you do. You mention how you always had to ask your ex to take off his shoes whenever he walked into your apartment. He quickly snorts and mentions how he’d immediately make him walk out. You laugh because it’s true. You talk about the Tic Tacs he always kept in his pocket and how they’d rattle every time he’d walk and how he’d never wait for you to catch up. If you dropped something, he’d move forward without losing his stride, expecting you to run after him instead.

“What the fuck?” He sounds repulsed. Sukuna’s hot breath mixes in with the smoke. “Of course you wouldn’t last. You hate that shit. Everyone hates that shit.”

“I know. I just thought it would work out. Like maybe one day I’d get used to it.”

He scoffs, flicking his cigarette off into the tray. The final embers skip once before turning black. You can’t help but be stunned at how easy it is to flicker away.

“That’s your problem. You need to stop wasting your time on people that clearly don’t deserve you.”

It’s your turn now to snort, to be bitter by the advice you’re receiving and exactly who you’re receiving it from.

“Like you?”

“Course like me. I was probably your biggest mistake.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

“Yeah, for fucking once.” There’s silence that you have no desire to fill. Sukuna always likes to have the last word and you’re not in any condition to continue arguing. His presence quietly grows into comfort, an odd feeling you don’t have the capacity to dwell on. He was never there back then, and though it’s too late, you take kindly to the fact that he’s here right now.

All of a sudden he places a palm atop your head and moves it back and forth, forcing you to jostle dizzily.

“Hey,” you try swatting at his hand.

He ignores you, instead looks straight into your eyes, “quit fucking settling. You’re a fucking dime going after worthless pieces of shit. Find someone who wants you and treats you right.”

He hurts you, but unlike before. He hurts you because it’s the truth. You’re desperate and more than willing to look past flaws just to be in a relationship, as if the label was the only reason for you to be happy.

You were happy once.

Looking at Sukuna, your bold words surprise you. “You? You don’t want me?”

“Quit saying stupid shit.”

He pulls out another cigarette while shaking his head. The flick of the lighter reminds you of rainy days on your balcony, where you’d sit in Sukuna’s lap. Where you would say something silly, inconsequential, and you’d bear witness to his chest aching laugh. When was the last time you’d seen him smile?

When was the last you did?

“I could never treat you right.”

You hug yourself, cradling your self pity to your chest. “I wish you could.”

He doesn’t look at you. Ash flakes away. It falls and crumbles before it can even land.

“Me too.”

[penguinotapioca]

"If you use em dash in your works, it makes them look AI generated. No real human uses em dash."

Imaging thinking actual human writers are Not Real because they use... professional writing in their works.

Imagine thinking millions of people who have been using em dash way before AI becomes a thing are all robots.

REBLOG IF YOU'RE A HUMAN AND YOU USE EM DASH

[penguinotapioca]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[penguinotapioca]

If you say my username in front of the mirror 3 times and then turn around 3 times I’ll come out of the mirror and give you a little kiss

[penguinotapioca]

I'm awake. Please respect my privacy during this difficult time

[penguinotapioca]

[penguinotapioca]

Sonic's winter coat 🐾

(it's cold here!!) (no that's not the werehog on ozempic 💥)

[penguinotapioca]

idk why she has eyebrows but i tried to draw the girl from the gomenne gomenne mv

[penguinotapioca]

.ᐟ GEEKED OUT

satoru gojo x gn!reader

when one nerd meets an even bigger nerd and they instantly click. mainly fluff

when he settled next to you at party, clearly trying to ground himself after a few too many drinks, it didn’t take long for you to realise that satoru gojo was, without a doubt, a complete and utter nerd.

as he sat close beside you, drunkenly rambling about comics and pokémon, you couldn’t help but smile. he was the last person you ever expected to be having this conversation with. and yet here you were— drawn in by his energy, the way his eyes lit up when he talked, the way he leaned in just a little too close. you completely forgot about your friend, who was supposed to be back with drinks ages ago. all you could focus on was him— his voice, his grin, and the way your knees kept brushing as the two of you debated your favourite characters and story lines.

you leaned in closer to him, your faces inches apart. now, you could make out his words over the music that pulsed louder with each passing minute.

you slowly sipped your drink—well, technically it was his but he’d handed it to you when he started assigning different DC superheroes with their perfect pokémon match ups. when he didn’t seem to mind, you kept drinking and nodded along with his takes and tossed out character names asking which pokémon they’d be.

“okay but there's no way batman wouldn’t be an umbreon,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him over the rim of the red solo cup. “broody, only comes out at night, kinda dramatic– sound familiar?”

gojo gasped like you just slapped him. “excuse me? umbreon is majestic. and tactical. batman is way more of a–wait hear me out–lucario kind of guy.”

you snorted. “lucario? just because of the cape thing?”

“no,” he slurred a little, wagging a finger between you two, “because lucario also works alone, but he’s loyal. he’s got that sad ‘i carry the weight of the world on my shoulders’ energy. very bruce wayne.”

he was leaning so close now you could smell the hint of sake on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. his white lashes catching the strobe lights every time they flickered, his eyes garnering your undivided attention.

“fine,” you conceded, finishing off the little that was left of the drink, “lucario it is. but only because you made it sound like batman’s got a tragic backstory and a heart of gold.”

gojo grinned, triumphant, but it faded just a little as he looked at you– really looked. his head tilted like he was seeing you for the first time, or maybe just realising you were already looking at him the same way.

“you get it,” he said, almost too quietly for the noise around you.

“i mean, it’s not hard to get batman,” you joked, trying to keep it light. “guy’s been sad for, like, eighty years.”

but he didn’t laugh this time. his gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before flicking back up. “wasn’t talking about batman.”

that stopped you. suddenly the room didn’t feel so loud anymore. or maybe it was just the way your heart was thudding in your ears, drowning everything else out.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but then—

“finally!” your friend’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, appearing at your side with two overflowing drinks. “i had to wrestle a frat guy for these.”

you blinked, leaning back just enough to remember where you were, who you were with, and how dangerously easy it was to forget.

gojo didn’t say anything, just smiled at your friend and then back at you– softer this time, like a secret only the two of you shared.

and maybe, just maybe, you weren’t quite done with that conversation yet.

[penguinotapioca]

i am nooooot locked the fuck in. im locked the fuck out. call the locksmith

[penguinotapioca]

tbr

call me cupid

loser in love? Cupid's got you covered, er, well kinda

synopsis: a soulmate is just an arrow away! or would be, if it weren't for these matchmaking mistakes. even agents of love seem to fall under its spell from time to time - and have to pick up the pieces of the hearts shattered in the process

various jjk!men x f!reader

content: mdni,fluff and angst and smut, modern au (sorta), idiots falling in love, lots of teasing and tension, enemies-to-lovers, coworkers-to-lovers, jealousy, heartbreak, hurt/comfort, unprotected piv sex, oral (f! receiving), handjob, multiple positions, more tags to be found on individual fics

love's laziest worker starring cupid!Sukuna x bratty!Reader

જ⁀➴ (un)lucky you. it seems Sukuna will do anything to stop you from meeting your soulmate just for a few more days to slack off!

lust, longing and other things starring virgin!Choso x cupid!Reader

ꨄ helpless. hopeless. horny. honestly, you should just stamp never been laid on his forehead, but no, it's up to you to fix him

last arrow left starring cupid!Gojo x introvert!Reader

જ⁀➴ it's not your fault you fell in love with him. but how the hell is he supposed to get you to fall out of love when you refuse to meet anyone else?

the angel who loved me starring playboy!Geto x cupid!Reader

ꨄ your first day on the job falls apart faster than you think when your new client is clueless the second he steps out of the bedroom

mr. love manager starring cupid!Nanami x cupid!Reader

જ⁀➴ he's used to tough cases - but this might be the hardest one to crack yet. especially when he can't stop thinking about the cute coworker who brought it to him!

comment to be tagged <3

[penguinotapioca]

BUBBLE POP ELECTRIC

♥︎ ﹑ TOUYA TODOROKI

while you’d usually ignore texts from numbers you didn’t recognize, this one has your curiosity piqued. what did he say his name was again? touya? main masterlist ♡ mha masterlist ♡ more touya

CW. language, crude & dark humor, crime talk, petnames, freader, legally inaccurate and probably impossible. I’m obsessed w him CRED. divs by animatedglittergraphics-n-more and cafekitsune

2025 © AOZUI do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

[penguinotapioca]

it's half past midnight when you hear the first telltale sign that someone is trying to break into your apartment. the shifting footsteps outside the front door were too loud to ignore, there was the unmistakable sound of someone breathing, and then came the dreaded, incessant jingling of the door knob.

dabi kept an extra pair of his combat boots outside your apartment door to scare off anyone from even attempting to break in when he's not around—you'll be sure to tell him his little trick did in fact not work if you manage to survive this entire ordeal.

dabi was a pretty resourceful boyfriend. he had given you some... questionable self defense weapons. prioritizing your peace of mind, you didn't ask him where he got the illegal artillery from and simply tucked it into the back of your coat closet (the world was a scary place, you weren't an idiot who would turn down extra protection).

and thank the universe you didn't, because now you have a bat with a bunch of nails tacked onto every square inch of its surface to, hopefully, fight off your intruder. your fingers tremble as you dial dabi's number, hearing it ring before it goes straight to the automated voicemail—anxiety prickles in your stomach, and you flinch when you hear the door knob shake even harder than it was before.

just your luck. tightening your grip on the bat, you take a tentative step backwards to keep yourself out of sight in case the door does cave in and open.

"the one time he isn't home," you mutter wearily under your breath before quietly gasping when you hear something scratching against your doorknob—it takes you half a second to realize the perpetrator was picking the lock, because it suddenly snaps off its latch and opens with a horrifying clink!

the door doesn't open. not for a heartbeat, at least. but the moment it does, you swing the bat as hard as you possibly can—throwing all your body weight into the hit.

dabi had less than a second to duck out of the way.

you miss—or in other words, he avoids getting his face bashed in by a single millisecond as the nails slam against the doorframe behind him instead.

he's crouched on the floor, eyes wide and a little breathless while you stand above him, completely stupefied

"dabi?" you shriek, half relieved and half mortified as you let go of the bat still stuck in the wood, gently pushing his boot with your slipper clad foot in questioning

"at least i don't have to worry about leaving you alone on missions as much," he says, eyes simmering with amusement and fatigue as you sputter, trying to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence

"what the hell! wha—how—why would you scare me like that! you have a key, you asshole! use it! a-and i called you! why didn't you pick up?!" you snap, delivering a swift kick to his shin as he hisses through his teeth, grin wide and toothy as he stretches his legs out in front of him, making no move to get off the floor

"first of all, my phone got crushed in a fight. second, i accidentally melted the key—don't ask me how. and third, the reason i picked the lock was because i thought you were asleep. i just wanted to come in quietly without waking you up. what the hell are you doing awake, anyway?" he muses, slumping a bit against the wall as you stay quiet.

with a sigh, you close your front door shut and make sure to lock it properly before lowering yourself onto the ground beside him. he smells like smoke, and there's dried blood on his pants. it doesn't stop you from pressing yourself into his side and dropping your head onto his shoulder

"you woke me up," you murmur, and he scoffs

"as if. i was as quiet as a mouse. you just have freakishly good hearing senses," he says with a breathy chuckle as you frown

"i could've seriously hurt you with that bat. can you please try and give me some sort of a warning next time? i don't think i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dabi doesn't answer for a while. he's staring straight ahead to where your bedroom door is left ajar, the warm golden light of your lamp spills into the hallway and illuminates it in a soft glow that looks like sunshine

"it's gonna take a lot more than that to kill me."

silence settles over you two, and dabi takes a split second to glance at you through his peripheral vision—you have both of your arms wrapped around one of his, and your brows are furrowed as your eyes remain closed.

he glances up at the bat, still jammed into the door frame, thanks to the nails, before he grins.

"it's pretty sick, huh? that bat's gotta be one of my favorites. and you have good aim—pretty lethal combination, if you ask me.

"dabi," you scold tiredly, but he just brings a finger to your lips

"shh shh, don'cha think you've yelled enough? do you want another noise complaint from those nosy neighbors of yours? can't say i could fault them this time, though—it is pretty late."

your lips settle into a pout, and you grumble quietly under your breath as he tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back before standing up

"come on. i'm tired as shit—and bloody. i'll shower and join you in bed, all right?"

you don't say anything, simply nodding as he carries you to your room. he settles you onto the heap of blankets before heading to your shower.

normally, dabi would've just passed out the second he got home. but he didn't want you laying in filth. so, here he was—scrubbing himself down and hopping out of the shower after another ten minutes to see you curled up under the blankets.

it had been a horrible couple of weeks for him. fighting in terrible conditions and sleeping in even worse—but coming home to you was always something that made the torture bearable.

he slips into bed after turning off the lights, and you instinctively move to hold him. your arms wrap around his middle and your head falls on his chest. a warm palm slides under your shirt and settles onto the planes of your back a moment later

"next time, i'll sneak in through your balcony. be the perfect knight in shining armor for you—i don't think you'll have enough time to grab the bat by the time i get in."

you don't open your eyes, but your lips stretch into a small smile that has dabi grinning widely

"missed you," you murmur with a yawn as he hums, staring up at the ceiling

"go to sleep. i'll be right here when you wake up, promise."

once your breathing evens out, dabi peels himself out of your embrace as quietly as he possibly can. he takes a quick walk around you apartment—ensuring all the windows were closed, the front door was locked, and no one suspicious was lurking outside before he re-enters your room and slides back into bed.

he finally lets himself fall asleep, and it's the best sleep he's had since he left you.

it's not because of the air conditioning, it's not because of the bed, and it's not because he'd gotten to take a shower—really, the only reason he was able to fall asleep peacefully was because he had you with him, tucked into his side and in bed, right where both of you belonged.

[penguinotapioca]

Hi guys!

So…how are you? Lmaooooo

I haven’t posted on here or ao3 in a hot minute. I’m not sure if you guys saw my update on ao3 (i said I would post it on tumblr but then I forgot), but basically I stopped writing for a while. It’s quite a long message so tldr, at some point in the past year I’ve slowly realized what I wanted out of life and wanted to start taking myself seriously especially as a writer. I’ve been writing since I was a kid and I don’t have the same motivations that I used to. I used to write to impress people, which is why I always start stories and never finish them despite having the overall story planned. Now, I want to write because I have something to say and want people to listen and learn, but still leave room for their own interpretation. I’ve been very vague about my Red Dead Redemption story because I’m actually very serious about it and my OC. I have a lot I want to say about being black in America and the history behind it especially considering the current political climate. I’ll go into more detail about Sylvia (my OC) and her story if you guys would like!

So anyway, I stopped writing to focus on graduating college (which I’ve done now) and to give myself a reset. I still don’t think I’m gonna start up again soon, I’m not entirely sure how to feel right now. I don’t know if I care to continue my previous stories as they are, but I rewriting them would take a lot of time out of focusing on what I really want. I don’t want to delete them either. I know you guys rly enjoy them and I like rereading to see how much I’ve changed.

I just wanted to let yall know what’s going on (if u care ofc). You know what I rly want to do rn? I want to write a short story. I’m gonna try to enter short story fiction competitions and see what lands. Perhaps I’ll share it on here as well! What have you guys been up to?