SHIBUYA STATION is now on indefinite hiatus. the server is still up and running, and our primary focus is now to build the server on a standalone base, temporarily. we will be redoing our member and mod applications, and then be accepting once more.
to find those discord member applications, navigate to the owner(s) blogs to find the the link once it’s been updated (approximately MAY 26th).
@akugyu ; jin
@pixelwisp ; noè
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ଘ beware ʚ no warnings, sfw, tooth rotting fluff, links take you to songs i recommend you listen to while reading (youtube), not thoroughly proofread (let me know if i missed anything), all characters are of age.
ଘ notes my lovely dani <3333 i added yuuta like you asked uwu i hope you enjoy these headcanons. i'm so soft after writing this. if these boys don't show up at my door in the next 24 hours and take me on one of these dates, i'm going to lose my mind. thank you for requesting!!!! interactions are loved (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
now playing: take me where your heart is by Q
okkotsu yuuta’s a hopeless romantic, but you don’t discover this until later in your relationship when he’s more comfortable with taking the initiative and sharing his ideas with you.
at first, he’s so casual— content with you being the one to plan out the dates while he provides the train and bus fees so you can drag him all over the bustling cities as you please.
until he finds out you want him to be more assertive.
after that, he’ll wrap his arms around you and mumbles against your ear his plans for you, no longer the other way around.
“clear your schedule for me today? we’re going somewhere, my love.”
he makes your heart flutter with that kind of talk!!!
but to be honest, yuuta is kind of nervous.
the dates you prepare are so thoughtful ‘n unique. stealing him away from duties for firework shows, free sample hopping at the local shopping centers and even a pottery class where you laughed at yuuta because he accidentally clogged wet clay up his nostril.
anyway, yuuta REALLY should give himself more credit.
he’s a little sheepish at first, a little flushed when the two of you check in at a do it yourself couple’s spa. “we can go somewhere else, if you like?”
“okkotsu,” you deadpan. “you have to be kidding. we’re at a spa and i get to crack your back instead of someone else. we’re doing this!!!!”
“that’s a relief,” he gives you a beautiful smile.
the date turns out to be so cute.
you and yuuta wear matching robes with cute little animals printed on them before you’re lead to a room stocked with a mini fridge and shelves with goodies meant to be used to take care of each other.
yuuta’s particularly interested in the eye masks for bruises under the eyes, but you steer him away from those because you love his dark circles just as much as you love him. no blemish on his face isn’t beautiful.
still, it feels good to be the one to take care of your lovely boy— you worry about him not getting enough sleep and nutrition. just as yuuta worries about you overworking yourself and staying up too late at night.
it’s not a surprise the two of you end up arguing about who gets to take care of the other first before the instructor interrupts and reminds you it’s a team effort.
so you both end up sitting face to face, gently patting serums into blushing cheeks and whining about how cold the jelly sheet masks are when you slap it over unprepared faces. falling a little bit further in love with each other as you gently massage the tension out of each other’s shoulders, little quarrel soon forgotten.
now playing: shake it by metro station
“do you maybe? i dunno— wanna go on a date with me?” is how yuuji asks you out, rubbing the nape of his neck, eyes casted to the floor— immediately regretting blurting out that question. not because he doesn’t want to date you, but because—
well, this guy is clueless?? sure, he may have come a long way from hanging up posters of half-naked actresses in his room, but yuuji’s still not good at dating and he’s even worse with women. bless him.
still, he tries his best.
he stays up all night googling what women like to do on dates. scoffing at the cosmo magazine polls that promise him 75% of women prefer extravagant dates that begin in expensive dinners and end in swarovski gifts. as if he’ll do something like that. he’s broke and plus, dates like that sound boring.
yuuji’s a hyperactive puppy who never runs out of energy so when the idea of adrenaline-filled thrill rides, kakigori, sweet cotton candy and greasy popcorn pops into his mind, he texts the trip advisor page to you at 3am in the morning, hours before your date with him.
“an amusement park, yuuji?” honestly, for a first date it’s not the best idea. a loud park filled with boisterous teenagers and crying babies didn’t create the most romantic setting for a blossoming relationship, but for you and yuuji it’s perfect. you can’t deny your excitement even if it is a little childish.
except, the itadori bad luck is not a hoax. yuuji ends up picking the worst day for your date—free corn dog day so of course the park is ridiculously busy with families and couples alike.
yuuji looks like someone kicked him in the face, really. guiltier than a man on trial. “we should just go.” “please, yuuji. you’re going to want one of those free corn dogs. we’ll make it work.”
no moms with baby prams and sticky toddlers will stop you from enjoying your time with him. you’d been waiting for him to ask you out for too long.
you lace your fingers with yuuji’s, tugging him into the crowd. scoping out rides with the least wait times and of course, the free corn dog stall.
this date is more fun than it looks, promise!!!!
yuuji may have made himself sick eating free corn dogs though. childlike, the two of you change your looks to return to the line. you end up wearing yuuji’s hat while yuuji has your bright pink sunglasses on. luckily, he was handsome enough to charm the concession employees into giving the two of you seconds, thirds, and even a fourth.
you and yuuji end up riding all of the random, unpopular rides throughout the park too. the creaky tilt-a-whirl, the broken carousel with animals that don’t move, and the horror love boat with the terrifying animatronics where you feed each other rainbow cotton candy and share a sweet cherry slush to distract yourselves from the scene of the animatronic woman eating her husband’s heart in a corner.
“you’re still shaking. are you scared? do you want me to cover your eyes?” “just kiss me, idiot.”
now playing: outside by weston estate
megumi isn't the kind of guy to go all out for dates.
he doesn't see the point in spending a lot of money?? especially going to loud places with too many people, when all he wants to do is spend time being next to you while he's able— the location literally doesn't matter.
of course, he'll go out if you want. it's just not really his style.
it annoys you a little at first— you think he's hiding your relationship, but you're quick to learn that dating with megumi at home is better than anything.
he doesn't ask you out or anything; it makes him nervous even though you're his girlfriend so he just shows up at your door— surprise!!!! here's your boyfriend at the door with a bag of groceries and a rented movie.
"who still rents movies, fushiguro?"
“you be quiet.”
when you're alone though, megumi's true personality unfurls and shines through.
he wears your pink cooking apron and doesn't protest when you push his hair back with a pretty headband, he's so handsome. he'll cook you a delicious meal before watching a movie with you warming his side and if you don't fall asleep during, he'll draw the two of you a medicinal bath to soothe your tired limbs and achy joints.
"hey," megumi's quiet rasp calls on you from the kitchen. the scent of megumi's favorite being prepared— shogoyaki with bean sprouts and rice— wafts through the open kitchen hatch, making your mouth water. "did you set the table like i asked or are you too busy ogling me?"
"you wouldn't believe me if i said no, how can i not ogle you?"
still, you hurriedly set the table so you can join him in the kitchen. not to help him, no— to hug your arms to his waist while he carefully tosses pork over in a pan, grumbling that he can't move with you clinging to him like that.
yet he never asks you to move.
getting glimpses of a more comfortable, open megumi is a treat.
he would never do some of the things in public that he does when at home with you — like sitting right next to you at the table instead of across.
or feeding you bites of food from his own plate because you love those pieces and he doesn’t, yet he adds them to his plate anyway.
there’s so many more things, too. a special edition megumi only for you.
it’s so endearing as he sips some of your drink when you offer it to him. or when he thumbs a finger across your lip, cleaning a drop of soy from your mouth. using any excuse to touch and be near you.
now playing: scenic drive by khalid
when you first began dating him, satoru took you everywhere.
he would rent out entire restaurants for fancy dinners with you or fly you all the way to venice for a romantic ride through the city on a gondola. your dates with him meant dressing in pretty silks and satins with high heels so expensive they could end world hunger, all bought by satoru himself.
back then, it was obvious. he was only trying to occupy you. keeping you busy and excited in your relationship with him, a constant need to impress you as his feelings grew stronger. an irrational fear in him that you would eventually get tired of his exhausting personality and busy schedule.
yeah, he’s an idiot. but he’s your idiot.
at one point, you have to tell him: "my feet can't take another night in heels, satoru," letting him down gently so he'll know that while you don't like the location, you love spending time with him.
the clubbing, the dinners, the trips to different countries— you want him to stop posing and let his guard down. you want satoru, raw and unfiltered.
"eh? you couldn't have said that before i flew you to paris?" he complains, pulling his blindfold down to replace it with a pair of dark shades. "whatever, i know where to take you next."
"does it involve sitting in first class for ten hours? if yes, we're breaking up."
"don't be such a crybaby, but no. it does involve sitting next to me, though."
you are one hundred percent sure that satoru, who takes the train to work and tortures ijichi into driving him everywhere does not have a driver's license, but hours later when you meet him downstairs outside of your apartment, he's leaning coolly against a sleek red sports car; vintage body, cream interior.
feeling bad about having to tell him to cool it down with the extravagant dates, you don’t question his driving skills as you hop into the passenger seat. if you die, you die!!!!
but you should have known better, there is nothing gojo satoru cannot learn. his driving is smooth and is threatening to lull you to sleep. he truly is good at everything.
he’s especially good at making you swoon.
satoru drives you out of the city with the top down, sleeves rolled up; he looks so carefree, years younger with his hair whipping in the wind and no worries on his expression. one hand on the steering wheel while the other rests in your lap, his fingers intertwined with yours while you stroke your thumb lovingly over the top of his hand. choosing the perfect moment to drive beachside as the sun drops, coloring the sky to a lavender purple.
it’s relaxing date and exactly what you wanted. satoru can rest his overactive mouth because neither of you feel the need to break the silence and speak— loving one another enough to share the space and be near each other.
you share a bag of chips and a sugary melon soda in silence too, though every now and then satoru will sigh and crunch irritatingly loud just to make you laugh.
( it’s endearing to see crumbs littering satoru’s expensive jeans. so human. )
but then your favorite song jumps on the shuffle and you’re singing into the darkening sky, lyrics off-key while satoru steals glances between watching the road, his expression as open as his heart in that moment.
“so, how is this for a date?” he lolls his head towards your seat, his eyes reflecting the lavender orange cream sky in them. “wishing you were on a private jet?”
“it’s not paris,” you nod, agreeing. “but it’s worth it.”
now playing: waves by mr.probz
there is one thing about nanami kento and that is he will never waste a day off, never miss an opportunity to spend quality time with you.
kento is an organized man so it’s no surprise that this man has an entire day planned out for the two of you.
he is the poster model for true romance, waking you up with a kiss and a fresh bouquet of spring flowers. “i have an errand to run today, darling girl,” he murmurs in your ear. “come with me?”
an errand to run is kento’s unique way of asking you out on a date— you can’t help but smile and feel excited, so you hurry to do your morning routine and get dressed while kento patiently waits outside.
any hints you try to draw out of kento about where you’re going today falls flat, he even threatens to blindfold you if you peek again. you trust him so you dutifully keep your eyes sealed the entire car ride and to this secret destination
you’re super confused when your feet land on wooden planks. a boardwalk? kento is a perfect guide though and you can’t find it in yourself to complain when his hands stay on your waist the entire journey.
“lift your feet up for me or you’ll fall, darling.” “that’s it.” but in the end he ends up lifting you onto a higher surface. do i hear waves?
“you could have uncovered your eyes five minutes ago,” kento quips dryly and you frown before dropping your hands. you squint against the bright, warm sunlight and the clear blue sky.
“kento, this was your errand?” you reply breathlessly, mouth gaped in surprise as you stare at the beautiful vessel around you. a crisp white sailboat with a light varnished deck.
“i thought it would do us a favor to get out of the house. shall we?”
at the helm of the boat is the prettiest picnic you’ve ever seen. pillowy cushions seated at a small table decorated with artful cheeses, meats, and fruits while a bottle of sparkling champagne sleeps on ice in a bucket.
nanami helps you sit down before he sits next to you, getting to work on finding a corkscrew to pop the champagne while you relax, realizing with wide eyes that you didn’t pay attention to nanami’s outfit of the day.
a sight you never knew you needed to lay your eyes upon before that moment.
the two of you are the picture of romance, straight out of a lifestyle magazine. the sailboat rocking gently over the waves as you chat comfortably and it takes some coaxing the ex-salaryman into agreeing, but eventually you get him to rest his head in your lap while you lower a branch of grapes to his lips because we’re on a boat, we have to recreate this!
at first he’s just indulging you, but the grapes are as sweet as your love and the way you brush his hair back away from his face is comforting. as grumpy as he is, it feels good to be cared for. to be loved. he finds himself lulling off, eyes closed to listen to your quiet chewing as you snack and the water rolling against the starboard side.
until you startle him awake, “wait, where did you get the boat?”
the blond has to laugh, brow flickering in irritation as he thinks about the owner of said vessel, but no thought is unpleasant enough to ruin a perfect day with you. “i called in a favor from a frustrating colleague.”
this kind of date… reminds you to enjoy the time you have together. with seaspray in your hair and on your cheeks, you and nanami at peace, nothing else matters.
ଘ genre: fluff, comfort
ଘ pairing: fushiguro toji x female reader
ଘ from 呪術廻戦 / jujutsu kaisen
ଘ word count: 2.3k
ଘ beware: no real warnings, fushiguro toji’s third housewife arc, mentions of menstrual symptoms (cramping and fever), descriptions of menstrual pain, mention of birth control, a sprinkle of toji-typical cuss words, toji is a himbo in disguise, soft toji, he’s a little insecure now that he’s falling in love (took him long enough) lmao
ଘ synopsis: it’s really surprising that when toji experiences you on your period for the first time, he is a manic cross between horrified and overprotective.
ଘ request: anonymous asked: im a sucker for husband!toji so if u don’t mind, I’ll ask for a fluffy oneshot/headcanon? where reader is on her period while toji here takes care of her :> please & thank u!
ଘ notes: soft toji soft toji SOFT TOJI. writing fluff gives me the biggest, most active butterflies for this man ever. i was originally going to do headcanons but i’m too longwinded hehe, hope you enjoy <333 p.s. make sure to click the link for toji visual because this is how i imagined him the entire damn time LMAO. reblogs are loved (ɔˆз(ˆ⌣ˆc)
(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
fushiguro toji is absolutely horrible with gals.
sure, he’s good at sweet talking them into causing trouble with him in the dark but when it comes to being supportive, a shoulder to lean on when a woman’s tears start flowing in big, fat waves toji locks up, the grimace on his scarred features only making them cry harder.
he also has a terrible habit, much worse than being a chain smoker: toji will downright scoff and call them a crybaby. to their faces. while they’re crying.
but when you’re the one in pain, something in toji shifts. breaking down into the man you likely dream of him being before he can help it. not that he’d ever admit it to you or himself, but his corroded heart has a deep soft spot for you, his little wife. filled to the brim and overflowing with annoyingly pink, heart-shaped candies you probably put there yourself.
still, it’s really surprising that when toji experiences you on your period for the first time, he is a manic cross between horrified and overprotective.
Iwaizumi’s heart squeezes at the tired lilt to your voice. He turns his head to look back at you, crinkled eyes accompanied with a subtle smile. He muses at your appearance, wondering just how you managed to look so good even in your sleep addled state. You’re standing beside him, mussed hair and eyes still working themselves fully open, and he’s pretty sure you’ve never looked more radiant.
As you place the mug of coffee on his desk, he takes the opportunity to lean into you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and bring you closer as he a mumbled a soft ‘thanks’ against your temple. He feels you smile, and his heart leaps as your arms come together around his shoulders, enfolding him in your warmth.
“Are you working today?” He closes his eyes and relishes in the smell of your shampoo.
“No, the team made me take the day off. Banned me from the gym until tomorrow.”
“Good,” you giggle, and it’s like music to his ears. He pinches your side and you let out a shocked 'Hajime!’ as you collapse into his lap with a gasp. He wastes no time in claiming you, circling his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“You’re terrible,” you chide, but the grin on your face assures him that you find him anything but.
He chuckles, leaning down to give featherlight kisses along your jaw as he rubbed circles into the exposed skin of your hips.
“Terribly in love with you?” It came out as a question, almost like an offering, and he laughs when you make a gagging sound, followed closely by a groan.
“Oh my god, Haji, that was so bad.”
“You know you liked it.” And you laugh - and it was loud, almost a kind of bark, and it cut through the soft morning atmosphere as easy as butter. He soaks in the sound like it was the California sunshine, and the warmth of your laugh kisses his skin, making him glow.
His love for you was effervescent - it fizzed and bubbled along every inch of his skin, sometimes leaving behind a tingling, burning sensation - and sometimes and it was overwhelming, loving someone so immensely; but then you smile at him, and lean your forehead against his, and he’s reminded that he would gladly shoulder any discomfort that came from loving you this much, because it’s just a testament to how complete he feels.
“I am, you know,” he whispers. “Terribly in love with you.”
You smile, and begin a trail of light kisses: first on his brow, then his other, then each eye, each cheek, and the tip of the nose, until, finally, you reach his lips and laugh when he melts into it, like it’s what he’d been aching for.
You don’t pull away until the need for breath forced you apart, and sighs when you rest your head in the dip of his neck, steadily breathing in his cologne.
“Terribly in love with each other,” you correct, and he laughs along with you as his mind commits every second of this mundane Thursday morning to memory.
Moments like these are what make his life worth it. They remind him that happiness was in the little things. It was found with you, in your tiny two bedroom home, a hot cup of coffee on the table; and a small, velvet box tucked away inside a pair of socks in his dresser, just waiting to be proposed.
Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that some higher power thrived off of watching him suffer. As if the last few months weren’t taxing enough - getting ordained, dealing with groomzilla Oikawa, dealing with other groomzilla Iwaizumi, and taking on a co-op role of Iwa’s best man with Makki, who, by all accounts, should never be allowed to plan anything by himself - he now had to share a room with you; his best friend, Oikawa’s person of honor, and someone he’s been horrendously in love with for so long he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be in love with you.
When he first found out the news, he thought ‘this is fine, we can handle this. It’s just a room’, but the back of his mind was scrambling to figure out what he possibly could have done that would have pissed the gods enough for them to punish him like this (he could only recall that one time during New Years, when he picked his nose and wiped it on the shrine; but he was six, and Makki had dared him, so surely they had forgiven him for that?). He was too stuck in his head to notice the lilt in Oikawa’s voice as he explained that ‘We’re just trying to save some money, and Makki is already rooming with so-and-so, so you understand, right Mattsun?’, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed him the two hotel room keys, along with an order to not show up late to the ceremony, to which Mattsun only barely nodded to.
One night. One room. It’ll be fine, he thinks.
His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach when he saw the singular mattress in the middle of the hotel room. He briefly wondered if Oikawa was the aforementioned higher power. Does he know about the booger?
Mattsun almost wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, because of course. Of course Oikawa would use his own wedding to try to get Mattsun to confess for the millionth time. Of course Oikawa would make it as uncomfortable as possible for him in the process. Of course Makki would be in on it; Iwaizumi too, probably (although begrudgingly so). Of course he was, once again, at the mercy of his shitty friends, forced to suffer through another awful set up that’s destined to go horribly wrong.
He knew whoever was “upstairs” was laughing at him. They were laughing at his suffering and honestly? He wouldn’t be surprised if Oikawa did turn out to be some sort of demigod, who’s only mission was to make Mattsun wish the next funeral he’d have to plan was his own.
After a rush to the bathroom, a splash of cold water, and a less-than-peppy “pep” talk in the mirror, Mattsun decided that he could do this. He can totally sleep next to you for one night. He’ll face away from you, or lay over the blankets, or even sleep on the floor - whatever will help minimize contact between you two. He’ll hash out the details later. The important thing is, he can do this.
He could not do this.
He didn’t plan for you to look as good as you did tonight. He didn’t think to consider that you would practically beg him to dance, feeling you pressed up against his chest as you giggled breathlessly into his ear. He didn’t factor in the possibility that you would forget to pack pajamas, which meant you ended up in one of his shirts. He didn’t take into account how good you always smelled, and how it would envelope him as you laid next to him, soft breaths hitting his shoulder as he stared at the ceiling.
Mattsun played with his fingers as he tried his best to force sleep to overtake him, but all the little things had been building up throughout the day, and he was just so tired, and so hopelessly in love, he just couldn’t take it anymore.
He shifted; turned toward you. He took a moment to appreciate the moonlit path that shimmered across your cheekbone, the way your other cheek squished against the pillow, the hands that balled together against your chest. He saw your nose scrunch a little at something - probably his breath - and the final thread of hesitation gave away.
“Hey. Are you awake?” His voice was soft, a whisper, in case you were actually sleeping.
Your nose scrunched again.
“No,” you whispered back, and you smiled and opened your eyes to look at him. His breath caught in his throat, but he somehow managed a smile back.
“Funny.”
“I’m here all week.”
“Y/n,” he started. He swallowed. “Are we friends?”
You furrowed your brows, and nodded slowly.
He exhaled. Reached a hand to touch your cheek. His fingertips danced over your skin - his touch light as a feather, like you were the most delicate thing in the world.
“Just friends?”
You looked at him for what felt like an eternity, your face unreadable. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking, and every second you didn’t answer him had him falling deeper into a new kind of pain he had never experienced before.
You shook your head.
He felt the hope spread throughout his chest as he sucked in a breath. His touch deepened, ever so slightly.
“More?” He whispered. You reached up to cup the hand on your cheek, turning your head to place a soft kiss into his palm.
“More,” you affirmed.
Issei Matsukawa was pretty sure that he owed an apology to whatever higher power he had been cursing the last few months. Maybe Oikawa wasn’t a demigod - or maybe he was, but he was helpful, rather than spiteful - and maybe whoever was hanging out upstairs dealing with him had been as frustrated with him as he had been with himself.
As his fingers trailed up your thigh and you whispered affirmations of love into his very soul, he realized, begrudgingly, that he would have to thank Oikawa tomorrow, but when he smiled against your lips for the first time, he decided that he'd gladly thank a smug Oikawa a thousand times over if it meant he finally got to have you.
yet another repost from my old archive so I look semi productive. Minor edits but this one was always a fav so barely any edits tbh lol. enjoy the simple cute fluff fic and don't forget to check out our new network - shibuya station!
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❥ synopsis ┊“your demon host, asmodeus! the embodiment of lust!” . . . in the modern world, demons begin to learn to coexist among humans. you open the house of asmodeus. a demon host club, for all to experience!
it’s been four years since y/n, the former flower hashira got turned into a demon by one of the 12 kizuki.
shortly after, sanemi engaged in a battle against the upper ranks alongside y/n. the fight was lost, and sanemi nearly lost his life. this caused y/n to turn sanemi, much to his dislike. she however, despite it being selfish, wasn’t prepared to lose one of her best friends.
they both had run the house of asmodeus together now.
giyuu and shinobu were the only hashira to not turn their backs on y/n. even though the demon slayer corps is well aware of good demons, seeking to fit along humans.
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enjoy your ride,we are so excited to have you onboard our renowned shinkansen!
『 TERMINAL┊HELP DESK┊ REGULATIONS ┊ MEMBER APPLICATION 』
҂⌗҂ ┈┈ NOW BOARDING: WELCOME PASSENGER [ @raentaro ] to SHIBUYA-STATION! your seat is located in car number﹕ཿ [ sfw ] and [ jjk, tokyorev, hq, bsd, obey me! ] please watch your step and stand clear of the sliding entryway.
enjoy your ride, we are so excited to have you onboard our renowned shinkansen!
『 TERMINAL┊HELP DESK┊ REGULATIONS ┊ MEMBER APPLICATION 』
҂⌗҂ ┈┈ NOW BOARDING: WELCOME PASSENGER [ @inumakilove ] to SHIBUYA-STATION! your seat is located in car number﹕ཿ [ sfw + nsfw / dc ] and [ jjk, aot ] please watch your step and stand clear of the sliding entryway.
enjoy your ride, we are so excited to have you onboard our renowned shinkansen!
『 TERMINAL┊HELP DESK┊ REGULATIONS ┊ MEMBER APPLICATION 』
҂⌗҂ ┈┈ NOW BOARDING: WELCOME PASSENGER [ @di0bran ] to SHIBUYA-STATION! your seat is located in car number﹕ཿ [ sfw + nsfw / dc ] and [ jjba, bnha ] please watch your step and stand clear of the sliding entryway.
enjoy your ride, we are so excited to have you onboard our renowned shinkansen!
『 TERMINAL┊HELP DESK┊ REGULATIONS ┊ MEMBER APPLICATION 』
