libraryofolive

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guitarist geto

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Genuinely can't explain what Suguru Geto does to me physically and emotionally

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WOOF

The category is: femguru

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A glimpse of your voice

Pairing: deaf!gojo x f!reader

Synopsis: College!au Where deaf!gojo left alone in the hospital after the car accident, and the reader, who has a giant crush on him, brings him the notes after every lecture, saying that professors ask her to do that, but in reality, she just doesn’t want him to feel lonely and tries to be around so he will never feel like he is some type of burden for others.

Tags/Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort/hurt/no comfort/eventual comfort, angst, happy ending, toxic relationship, Sukuna is warning himself, bullying, physical abuse. I will add more throughout the story.

Author's note: little headcanons are NOT in the right time order, it's just something from the category of small memories from their relationship. There WILL BE a FULL fic, stay tuned.

Taglist: @someonenamedray @totallyuniquenut @not-aya @pinacoladagod @lumilarity @rh-tg1 @luv3nti @thequeenofcurses @arrozyfrijoles23 @hel1nn @luna-v-roiya @p1nkfl0wers @iwriteforlove @gloomysel @mashtura @chiyokoemilia @eolivy @getoicious @bbyrugou @moonlight-inthe-sea @dreamsarenicer @kidd3ath @1sweetheart1 @ethereal-moonlit @satoruxsc @linny-bloggs @whytfisgojosohot @entr4p3 @makimamybelovedwife @samxnavialover

taglist is open!! Leave a comment if you want to be added.

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Thanks for the request.

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They're making soup

Twitter

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photos in a field

featuring: Sylus x Reader

word count: 544

genre: fluff

synopsis: Eloping with Sylus! Inspired by his new event card <33

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

“Just one more!”

“These are our wedding photos, sweetie-”

“Exactly, so let me take some photos of my handsome groom with his flower crown!” You protest, small digital camera in hand. He had offered to hire a professional photographer, to buy you a camera that they would use - but no, you had refused. It’s more personal, you had reasoned. He couldn’t disagree. After all, when the topic of your nuptials was discussed, the conversation had gone… differently, to what you had expected.

Most would think, when discussing the wedding of the great leader of Onychinus, of one of the richest men in all of the deepspace, the adjectives that would crop up would be ‘grand, ornate’ and, of course, ‘expensive.’ But when you had asked your then fiancé for his input for the upcoming ceremony, he had only one adjective to offer.

‘Intimate.’

And here you were. In a field full of blooming flowers of every colour you could possibly imagine. You in a white dress, save for the crown of flowers resting on your head. Well, that was currently resting on your now husband’s head. The ceremony had been family only - you, him, and the two young adults that definitely weren’t sons to him acting as your witnesses. But Luke and Kieran had been ushered away once the ceremony was finished, and your wedding breakfast - wedding picnic - was sat waiting for you both in a wicker basket on a plaid picnic blanket.

You were taking photo after photo of Sylus, of the genuine smile that only seemed to grace his features when he was around your family. He was having none of it, though.

“Sweetie, give me the camera.” He gently demanded, holding a hand out, “your beauty should be recorded, too.”

You sigh, handing the small camera over. “Come here, kitten.” He beckons you over, smiling softly. He positions you in front of him, your back to his chest - or it would be, if he didn’t have to lean down to rest his chin on your shoulder. He holds the camera out, lens facing the two of you, and begins to take photos.

When looking back at the photos later, you with your head in his lap, tummies full after an expertly assembled picnic, you could see the progression of your thoughts through them, like the cliché photobooth scenes you see in those romance films Sylus pretends to hate.

The both of you looking at the camera. Sylus looking at you, gaze full of affection. Sylus’ lips against your cheeks. You looking at Sylus, his love reflected in your eyes, too. The both of you, lips pressed together.

Years later, the two of you stand admiring the photos you took on that happy day. His chest to your back - or it would be, if he didn’t have to lean down to rest his chin on your shoulder, as it was then, as it always had been, as it always would be.

“If only our whole heads were in frame.” You giggle. “And you hadn’t cut our foreheads in half.

“A man can’t be good at everything, kitten.” Sylus responds, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “No matter how perfect your husband seems.”

[libraryofolive]

photos in a field

featuring: Sylus x Reader

word count: 544

genre: fluff

synopsis: Eloping with Sylus! Inspired by his new event card <33

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

Do you have a request? You can find my rules for requesting here!

“Just one more!”

“These are our wedding photos, sweetie-”

“Exactly, so let me take some photos of my handsome groom with his flower crown!” You protest, small digital camera in hand. He had offered to hire a professional photographer, to buy you a camera that they would use - but no, you had refused. It’s more personal, you had reasoned. He couldn’t disagree. After all, when the topic of your nuptials was discussed, the conversation had gone… differently, to what you had expected.

Most would think, when discussing the wedding of the great leader of Onychinus, of one of the richest men in all of the deepspace, the adjectives that would crop up would be ‘grand, ornate’ and, of course, ‘expensive.’ But when you had asked your then fiancé for his input for the upcoming ceremony, he had only one adjective to offer.

‘Intimate.’

And here you were. In a field full of blooming flowers of every colour you could possibly imagine. You in a white dress, save for the crown of flowers resting on your head. Well, that was currently resting on your now husband’s head. The ceremony had been family only - you, him, and the two young adults that definitely weren’t sons to him acting as your witnesses. But Luke and Kieran had been ushered away once the ceremony was finished, and your wedding breakfast - wedding picnic - was sat waiting for you both in a wicker basket on a plaid picnic blanket.

You were taking photo after photo of Sylus, of the genuine smile that only seemed to grace his features when he was around your family. He was having none of it, though.

“Sweetie, give me the camera.” He gently demanded, holding a hand out, “your beauty should be recorded, too.”

You sigh, handing the small camera over. “Come here, kitten.” He beckons you over, smiling softly. He positions you in front of him, your back to his chest - or it would be, if he didn’t have to lean down to rest his chin on your shoulder. He holds the camera out, lens facing the two of you, and begins to take photos.

When looking back at the photos later, you with your head in his lap, tummies full after an expertly assembled picnic, you could see the progression of your thoughts through them, like the cliché photobooth scenes you see in those romance films Sylus pretends to hate.

The both of you looking at the camera. Sylus looking at you, gaze full of affection. Sylus’ lips against your cheeks. You looking at Sylus, his love reflected in your eyes, too. The both of you, lips pressed together.

Years later, the two of you stand admiring the photos you took on that happy day. His chest to your back - or it would be, if he didn’t have to lean down to rest his chin on your shoulder, as it was then, as it always had been, as it always would be.

“If only our whole heads were in frame.” You giggle. “And you hadn’t cut our foreheads in half.

“A man can’t be good at everything, kitten.” Sylus responds, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “No matter how perfect your husband seems.”

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... coming soon

Sylus' card for the new event gives running away and eloping together

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Sylus' card for the new event gives running away and eloping together

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No one can resist Suguru 😋

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— 20:54, something to remember .

nanami doesn’t think of himself as funny. he doesn’t tell jokes. doesn’t enjoy them much, either—not the cheap kind that bounce around the break room or the kind gojo throws like confetti just to see what sticks.

but sometimes, when he’s tired enough, when the day has stretched long and cursed into something unending, words slip out. dry ones. harmless sarcasm in a voice so flat, most people mistake it for bitterness.

like now. like this.

you’re walking beside him, eyes tired, hands stuffed in your jacket pockets. it’s been a long night. exorcisms, reports, gojo being loud. everything smells like smoke and rain.

“if another curse pops up,” nanami mutters, “i’m retiring and moving into a cave. preferably one without cell reception. or gojo.”

he doesn’t even glance at you. he’s just filling the silence. keeping the night from swallowing everything whole.

but then—

you laugh. not polite. not soft. it bursts out of you before you can catch it, bright and surprised, echoing into the night.

your hand flies up to your mouth. your eyes wide, like even you didn’t expect it. “sorry,” you say, muffled. “i don’t know why that was so funny.”

and nanami just… stands there.

blinking once.

twice.

he turns to look at you, and it’s like something gentle knocks into his chest. a soft ache, unexpected. like your laughter has left a mark on his ribs.

you’re still smiling, cheeks flushed, shoulders shaking just a little as you try to pull yourself together. and for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel tired. not in the heavy, dragging way that never seems to leave him.

he realizes, sharply, terribly: i want to hear that again.

not just the sound—but you. laughing. smiling. surprised by your own joy. and he wants to be the reason for it, again and again.

he doesn’t say anything. of course he doesn’t.

just adjusts his glasses and clears his throat.

“…i wasn’t joking.”

you snort this time, biting back another laugh. “sure you weren’t.”

he looks away, heart doing something unfamiliar and annoyingly loud in his chest.

he fell in love with your laugh.

and years later, it was still one of his favourite things to remember.

like now, when the room is dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamp outside. it cuts a pale golden line across the ceiling, just enough to see his silhouette beside you—broad shoulders relaxed, his arm folded behind his head, eyes half-lidded and tired.

your hand rests on his chest, fingers tracing the edge of the blanket. the night is quiet. warm. familiar. you’ve both stopped talking, but neither of you is asleep. not yet.

“do you remember,” you murmur, voice low and sleepy, “when we first started talking? before we were… us?”

nanami hums. a soft sound, almost amused. “i remember everything.”

you smile into the curve of his shoulder. “i laughed at something stupid you said.”

“not stupid,” he corrects mildly, “just subtle.”

you laugh again, quiet and warm. “right. subtle. like planning to live in a cave.”

his chest shifts under your cheek as he exhales a little laugh of his own. “i meant it at the time.”

you tilt your head to look up at him. “and now?”

he turns his face toward yours, eyes soft in the dark. “now i don’t need the cave.”

there’s a long pause, then—

“i realized something,” he says, barely above a whisper. “a little while after we started dating.”

you look up, curious. “what?”

his hand moves, slow and gentle, brushing back your hair as he speaks.

“when you laughed… i think part of me decided—without even realizing it—that i wanted to hear you laugh like that again. as often as possible.”

you blink. your chest stirs with something warm and tender.

“i didn’t know i was falling in love yet,” he admits quietly, “but i knew that i liked the way you sounded when you were happy.”

you’re quiet for a moment, absorbing the weight of it. the honesty. the softness that nanami only shows you like this, when the world is asleep and there’s nothing left to guard.

“you’ve always made me laugh,” you say gently, lifting your hand to brush your thumb along his cheekbone. “in all the right ways.”

he catches your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“good,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut, his voice fading into something just above a breath.

“that was the plan.”

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If you notice me reblogging

a repost

stolen art

false information

etc.

please let me know, you’re not rude or annoying and I actually do give a fuck and I will correct my mistake, thank you

[libraryofolive]

Nanami always pays for everything. A complete pushover. The restaurant bill, your classes, your hygiene products, sometimes even part of your rent. Every time, he's the one who pulls out the card, as if it were the most natural thing to do. And even though he does it without hesitation, it weighs on you.

He often tells you that you deserve it all, that you're his priority. That he can more than afford to buy things himself. He says it with such sincerity that it's almost soothing. Almost. Despite his words, guilt whispers to you that he's giving too much and that you're taking advantage of it.

Every time, you thank him. With smiles, tender gestures, grateful 'thank yous'. But deep down, you have this need to give back even a little of everything he gives you. To show him, in your own way, that you love him as much as he loves you.

So you decide to give him a gift. Not something you buy, something you can find in stores or online, not something expensive. Just something personal, real, sincere.

So, you poured your heart into a handmade notebook, filled with photos of the two of you, of him, of shared memories. On each page, a little note, a handwritten memory, surrounded by sweet and simple decorations. You added a letter at the end, filled with your feelings for him, and a bracelet you woven in his favorite colors, delicately attached to the notebook. Then, a small bouquet of paper flowers, all wrapped in a discreet, modest ribbon.

That evening, after yet another dinner he paid for without paying, you went to his house, the gift in your hands. He didn't suspect a thing. When you handed it to him, he looked at you with slight surprise, then gently took the package.

He opened it slowly. His eyes scanned the pages. And then, a smile appeared on his face. One of those he didn't often show. A sweet, rare, sincere smile.

"You didn't have to do all that..." he murmurs, his voice a little lower with emotion.

You lower your head slightly, embarrassed but happier, your cheeks a little warm. "I wanted you to know how much you mean to me... and to thank you. It's not much, but it's all I did with my heart."

He places the notebook next to him and moves closer. And before you can say another word, he takes you in his arms. A long, gentle hug, his scent invading you and reassuring you.

"You make me so happy, you know?"

You smile against his shoulder, realizing it more and more, but you're so happy with him too.

"I should be the one saying that."

a/n: i love nanami sm omg.. ⟢﹒ masterlist