ɴᴇᴡɢᴇɴᴇꜱɪꜱꜱ

eng/esp obsessed rn with witch hat atelier and blue lock (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) 🇻🇪

[fallinloveanto]

────୨ৎ────

" 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗼𝗳, 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 "

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ hello everyone, you guys can call me anto (she/her) and i write fanfics, albeit i'm a new writer

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ i go by the same username on insta and wattpad ^^

.✦ ݁˖ rules:

• no smut: only fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, etc.

• readers can be of any gender, sexuality and/or ethnicity but please specify

• i write for lots of fandoms (animes, movies, shows and games) but i will specify!

[fallinloveanto]

to anyone writing fics where gojo is a dad or brother, can we PLEASE not give the kid/sibling the six eyes unless gojo is dead?? you all gotta remember that only one six eyes user can exist at a time because a new bearer of the six eyes cannot be born/manifested unless the previous wielder is dead. you can give the kid/sibling limitless but just not the six eyes.

just a heads up to remember :)

[kayleeeknee]

"x reader" then proceeds to add a name??? Like who the fuck is Sarah???

[tygalily]

experiencing romantic jealousy over a fictional character has gotta be one of the most painful, humiliating feelings ever. esp when they’re commonly shipped with someone else or in a canon pairing. the pain in your stomach nd the way your heart hurts. sometimes you feel like you could actually cry. like actual dread 💔

and then the wave of anxiety & shame hits because you know damn well it's not normal. but because you're so ashamed you feel like you have no one to talk abt it with. i genuinely wonder if i'm normal or well sometimes

[fallinloveanto]

ME OMGGG

[tenderhooked]

I WANT TO WRITE MY STORIES!!!!!!!!!!!! -> continues doing literally Anything Else besides writing

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[fallinloveanto]

chat i need to see headcanons of blue lock players's reactions to reader cheering for the opposing team because they come from that country?? like itd be so funny because "sorry baby but i am NOT cheering against my roots 💔💔" bonus points if the opposing team wins lmao

[ananxiousgenz]

no one worry about him guys, he's fine

[unprompted-acapella]

GET YOUR SMUT OUT OF THE FLUFF TAGS‼️‼️‼️

To every person who has put smut in the fluff tags, I wish you every inconvenience possible. I hope your spoon falls into your soup. I hope your plastic straw has a hole in the side so you can’t use it properly after a while. I hope the next time you buy shoes, they end up being different sizes and no returns. I hope all your tires lose air pressure when you’re late. I hope you wake up and your phone didn’t charge. I hope your shoes squeak embarrassingly loud even when they aren’t wet. I hope the barista gets your drink wrong. I hope your dad comes home without the milk.

I mean seriously. I shouldn’t have to spend 10 minutes scrolling through the FLUFF TAG to actually find fluff fics. Take your porn elsewhere

[bisexualmollymauk]

half of fic research is rereading the fandom wiki four times for obscure character info and the other half is googling shit like “when did we start using drywall in home construction”

[ruriihime]

Jaadugar: A Witch in Mongolia (2026)

[fallinloveanto]

obsessed with this series it's so so good 🙏🙏

[fallinloveanto]

hi I saw your post but couldn't reply on the fanfic you were looking for. She is on a03.

https://secure.archiveofourown.org/works/75138131?view_adult=true

omg tysm and wow that was fast :)

[fallinloveanto]

guys does anyone have the gojo x reader fic where his six eyes were damaging his brain and the reader was a volunteer in the hospital gojo was at and we fall in love as his condition worsens?? I KNOW IT WAS DELETED but like screenshots anything man 😭😭 that fic was genuinely amazing (it was by mimuju btw)

i think it was called like patient 361 or something among those lines

[kurooh]

⊹₊˚. FALL BACK INTO PLACE — GOJO SATORU

warnings ☆ gn! reader, hurt/comfort, set 1 year after the shinjuku showdown, scarjo our KING, descriptions of injury, insecurity over weight & appearance.

it begins with pants that are tighter than they should be around his waist. with his shoulders squared and his spine as straight as it can be, satoru stands in front of the mirror in the anatomical position.

the tobi trousers no longer hang as low on his hips, and the areas which had once been baggy have now filled out. it’s unbelievable, really. he’s had these god damn pants since he was in high school—a gift from suguru, who got him a white pair so they could match in their own little way—and now they’re practically splitting at the seams. fabric is tighter in places where it shouldn’t be, and the pants don’t move as airily as they once did when he walks.

“‘toru?” you call from the shower, unsuspecting and sweet.

with a quiet hiss, satoru sheds his shirt and smiles when he replies, “i’ll join you in two more minutes!”

a jagged white scar, similar in shape to a lightning strike, stretches across his middle. it is the most impressive mutilation on his body, and is fairly identical to the smaller gashes littering the rest of his skin from head to toe. those are ugly papercuts in the grand scheme of things, but the gnarled slash distinctly separating his top half from the bottom grows sensitive just from looking at it too long.

satoru peels away the tobi trousers and boxers in one slow motion, letting the clothing pool at his feet. his visual odyssey begins at his face; very scarred and totally badass, with eyes like diamonds inlaid on each side of his nose. it pauses at his chest, where he contemplates its current form and compares it to what it used to look like.

as the strongest, satoru made sure to completely live up to his title. he got his body into shape and maintained every single line or ridge of muscle definition meticulously. but as he stares into the mirror, he wonders how a body like this could’ve belonged to someone crowned as the strongest. the planes of his chest look much softer now, with much of the muscle having dwindled away during his recovery. white cuts of uneven lengths are scattered all over his skin and in every single direction, with one or two stretching all the way from his shoulder to his hip, like a seatbelt.

it resumes at his midsection, where the most damage had been done. if it hadn’t been for shoko’s extensive care and treatment that had lasted two whole weeks, he wouldn’t even be alive right now. he still remembers fading in and out of consciousness for the first few minutes he’d gotten picked up, before he was promptly knocked into a comatose state by all of the drugs.

satoru blinks away the memory of your crying face as you stood over him, helping to push the gurney. apprehensively, as if afraid it’ll tear open again, he reaches a hand toward the huge scar and exhales through his nose once he gets his fingers on it. when he looks a half inch lower, his neutral expression morphs into one of disgust.

god, he’s really let himself go, hasn’t he?

an unsightly layer of fat envelops his abdomen, warping it into something unfamiliar. it’s been so long, he barely remembers what he used to look like before having defined musculature. even worse, his abs were absolutely his pride and joy—you definitely had a thing for them, too—and now they’re buried under that god damn mess.

satoru’s been the strongest for so long that he doesn’t know what else he can be if he no longer is.

it grinds to a halt once his eyes finally fall upon his thighs. they’re much wider now, the thickest they’ve ever been, and he wants to bust out a hundred squats right then and there. maybe he’s been eating too many carbs, drinking too much fruit juice—no, that’s not something to worry about. he could make better dietary decisions any day, but none of that could change the white scars streaking the tender skin of his inner thighs. it’s not just there, either; they’re like their own brand, marring his skin with memories.

my god, he’s ruined.

satoru begins pacing in the small bathroom, turning over solutions in his head like stones. it’s been a year since the showdown, yes, but should this have happened the way it did? if he hadn’t listened to you, shoko, or the exhaustion weighing his limbs down, maybe he could’ve started training, taken his recovery by the reins.

he thinks back to when he waited for you to leave the house so he could exercise in the living room. if you’d been there, you would’ve dragged him up and told him he better not attempt to do anything if he knew what was good for him. but playing along with your threats could only go on for so long; three months had passed since the showdown, and he got ready to do some pushups.

yes, he’d felt some strain when he was stretching, and yes, he paid it absolutely no mind, simply writing it off as inevitable soreness. so when he did a single pushup, it hurt, but he couldn’t stop there. if it only hurt a little doing one, he could manage that easily—he did another, and promptly curled up into the fetal position with tears burning in his eyes.

okay, it might’ve been too early to exercise his core. but still, why would he let that stop him from rebuilding himself?

“heyyy, c’mon. i need you to help me wash my back and—”

satoru tunes you out and clutches the edge of the sink, letting his head hang so he doesn’t make the mistake of looking in the mirror. he’s still trying to stomach seeing his entire body at once, and he doesn’t need to see the same horror movie again.

he’s never been like . . this before. not once has he encountered an injury he couldn’t heal with his reverse curse technique, and now he’s unable to lift a damn finger. no jujutsu, period, shoko had bluntly said. she went on to explain that using a reverse curse technique to heal just a surface level injury could cause his brain to hemorrhage, and that she healed him as much as she possibly could. in other words, his body would have to adjust to both scarring and chronic pain.

fuck.

fuck.

without thinking, he slams his fists down on the counter and feels the effects of it reverberate through his body, which makes its way back to his weakened core. sharp and smarting, pain lances through him like one of sukuna’s slashes.

it hits him so hard his jaw drops and he collapses to his knees, protectively wrapping his arms around himself. in a desperate attempt to soothe himself through it, he strokes his fingertips against his sides and tries to breathe, even though the slightest of movements agitates the injury again.

uncontrollable shudders rock his body, amplifying the excruciating pain and also reducing his breaths to shallow, ragged pants. the sound of the shower gradually fades into static, and as satoru holds himself, his vision grows hazy. it hurts, much more than anything he’s ever known, and the realization that something has actually dropped him to his knees doubles as a sucker punch.

you’re at his side in an instant, a bottle of prescribed medication in one hand and a small cup of water in the other. you don’t make the mistake of touching him, but he vaguely hears you say something, tone reassuring as you can make it. slowly, he drops his arms from his sides, and presses his palms into the floor, trying to control his breathing.

two white pills sit in your hand, ready for him to grab, but he opens his mouth instead. gently, as if the slightest touch could hurt him, you slip the medicine into his mouth and raise the cup of water to his lips. it looks like the cap on the mouthwash bottle, and tastes like it was hastily filled with warm shower water.

“you’re dripping wet,” satoru points out, breaking the silence.

you roll your eyes, without the usual sass. “wait, really?” water runs off of your skin, falling to the floor and puddling. for emphasis, you shake your wet hands away from him, voice lilting. “i hadn’t noticed, satoru.”

he laughs shortly, averting his eyes when he sees the concern wash over your face. satoru hates it when you worry over him, or treat him like he’ll shatter from the simplest physical contact. your hugs are looser, your kisses are a little lighter, and you’re careful not to get too close when he’s in the throes of an episode.

“i’m okay,” he assures you, lightly cupping your dewy cheek. his eyes meet yours, a little worn down at the corners, and a smile tugs at his lips once you lean into his palm. “thank you.”

“how come you didn’t get into the shower?” curiously, your eyes wander to his midsection, and he feels the urge to twist away like he’s just been probed. “i was waiting for you.”

“just got caught up admiring myself,” satoru noticeably shutters, and your eyes return to his face. “i was gonna get in. i didn’t mean to worry you, sweets.”

“i heard a thud,” you begin, distress flashing across your face as you recount what had happened, “i figured it was something like this. any idea what brought it on?”

all one hundred and ninety centimeters of him had been a slouched heap on the floor when you raced out of the shower, soap suds clinging to you and water cascading down every inch of your body. it hurt to see him like that, wrapped up in himself and frantically trying to self-soothe, too weak to reach the pill bottle on the counter.

you’ve seen him at his weakest, and yet, satoru still finds it in himself to tell a white lie. “i’m not very sure. see, i was getting undressed, but then i got caught in the clothes and fell right over.”

right when he thinks he’s convinced you, you pull away from him and let out a tired sigh, looking less than impressed. the thud you had heard sounded more intentional than that of a falling body. “uh huh. what really happened, satoru?”

after a drawn-out pause, he exhales through his nose and musters up some courage. you seeing his problems is one thing, but him talking about them is something entirely different. “i, uh, got a little stuck, i guess.”

satoru shifts closer, and the tension dissipates from his shoulders when your hand finds the center of his back. in careful, comforting motions, your palm smooths up and down his upper back.

“kinda hard adjusting to all of this, y’know?” he hears his voice, notices the hollowness in it, and feels like a spectator in the room. “for the first time, everything’s completely out of my hands. i’ll never . . be able to get myself back to the way i was.”

this is the first time he has actually said this aloud, and it stings. his cheeks flush with hot emotion and he grinds his teeth, clenching his fists. he’s thankful you’re so quiet, because it feels like he’s talking to himself, and that makes it easier to get the words out. “it’s so messed up. i mean, god, just look at me,” one sidelong glance to his midsection and then everything immediately below it sends him into an unexpected spiral. “can’t heal myself, can’t walk upright, can’t even do a fucking pushup. shoko, she—she put everything back together, reconstructed it just enough for survival, yeah, but that’s not—it isn’t living!”

satoru’s head falls into his hands and his spine curves forward, agitating his core muscles. with the double dose of medication in him, he doesn’t concern himself with the brief discomfort, knowing that it’ll fade away fairly soon. the first time he’d taken the pills, he wanted to suck down the whole bottle! the way just one or two could block the pain from going to his brain was absolutely euphoric; but the strain on his liver would get to him before anything else could.

“i don’t have my own agency anymore. i can’t work out, so i see whatever the hell i’m eating hanging off me the next time i look into the mirror. eating strictly doesn’t do a damn thing if i can’t exercise along with it.”

his back trembles under your hand, and he sighs frustratedly, trying to regain control over himself. “i couldn’t,” and his voice cracks ever so slightly, growing quieter, “i couldn’t reach up to get the pills. if you hadn’t . . i would’ve passed out.”

the admission is a weight lifted off of his chest and one dropped onto yours. it hangs in the air like steam after a shower, and silence settles over the small bathroom, blanketing everything.

“it’s not the same, satoru, i know it isn’t,” you have to fight to keep his name from trembling on your lips; you’re supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around. “it’s been a year, but you’ve made so much progress since all of this happened. your body’s still healing, and who knows how strong you’ll be by next year? you have to be patient, baby. give yourself more time and credit.”

he laughs bitterly, “credit? i let my guard down. this is my fault.”

“no, it’s not,” you insist, exhaling shakily. satoru’s breathing is heavy and his face is tucked away into his hands; he looks defeated, and you wish you knew what to say. “none of this is. i—you were up against a demon, who nearly killed you. if there’s anyone to blame, it’s him.”

he doesn’t reply, but after some time, satoru’s spine slackens, and you can hear his breathing shift. the medicine finally seems to be doing its job now, and he moves to rest his head against your chest, careful not to jostle his lower back.

“i’m here for you, satoru. every step of the way, okay?” your voice is barely above a whisper, but he nods, his eyes looking glossy. “i know it’s harder than you make it seem, but this isn’t the same as before. you’re not alone. you have me, shoko, your students . . we’re all in your corner. a few more months of physical therapy, and you’ll be able to do some of the things you’ve been talking about. it won’t be perfect, of course, but it’s progress, which is the most important part.”

although he’s buried in the drugs and surrendering to the drowsiness, satoru hears you—really hears you, in the kind of way he only could if he were slotted on your chest after just having told you everything. he isn’t the strongest anymore—he is no longer untouchable and on his own because of it.

when he was bleeding out and turning gray on that battlefield, he saw something flash before his eyes. it hadn’t been a rapid montage of memories, but rather something he’d never experienced. he saw a second chance, one that had taken place in a world without jujutsu or the weight of a title on his shoulders. perhaps him surviving his injuries was this life’s twisted way of keeping him here to live out the nightmare of recovery before he could make it to that daydream he’d been chasing since suguru left.

this is what safety feels like—the slide of skin against skin, warm and wet. satoru closes his eyes, and drifts off.

[fallinloveanto]

post shinjuku! gojo oh how they could never make me hate you

[cocoagott]

[randomgreekfandomspals]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I am happy for Jorge and I'm so proud

[axxusu]

you're the brightest star in his eyes

qin shi huang x reader ; wc: 288 ; info: fluff, gn reader, before the main events obv this is when he was alive ; notes: can you tell i simply adore him ✶

With your fingers softly threading through his obsidian hair, Zheng felt himself melt at your touch, lulled into a mellow state, his loosened blindfold slipping. Nuzzling his face ever impossibly deeper into your stomach with his hands wrapped loosely against you, he gave a hum of satisfaction. You giggled at his antics.

"If you get any closer, you'll be entering me at this point."

"Precisely what I want. To be encased within you forever so that I will forever be subjected to the most profound parts of your love, and hear the joyful sound of your heart singing its devotion to me."

Your lips curled. "Since when have you become a poet?"

"Since I've met the most breathtaking person I know. Your stars shine brighter than all the others do."

And he slowly raised his gaze upon you, blindfold now past his nose, and you averted your gaze at his piercing stare. His azure eyes were looking at you as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face and discover the dark, most hidden recesses of your soul. To him though, your stars were distracting, shining brighter than Sirius against an inky night, but a particularly big one was idling on the middle of your forehead.

You squeaked as he lunged and pressed a big kiss on it, then attacked the rest of your face with a frenzy of kisses before pressing a last, soft one on your lips.

"How brazen of a king like you," you whispered, smile betraying your words.

"Hao!" he laughed. "And the world can know of my love for you."

You snorted, but gently kissed his eyes closed, making him smile in return.

"And they shall know of mine too."

dividers by cursed-carmine

[fallinloveanto]

i adore him omg