Okay so I noticed that a few (a lot tbh) writers and readers have this issue with trying to tag someone, but their url not popping up OR it doesn’t link and notify them. As a writer and reader, this is annoying and frustrating. So here’s what you (reader) can do!
Go into settings and click on your main or side blog
Scroll down until you find “Privacy”
Make sure you have the first two switched on, like so:
I’ve always had the first switch on, so I truthfully can’t tell you that it will affect the tagging system. If you’re really adamant about keeping it off, then turn it off. But if you’re still not getting tagged/not showing up, then turn it on.
This one is a MUST. Having this turned off is basically making you nonexistent. Your url/blog will not show up in any kind of search, either from tumblr or google or whatever engine you use. If you keep it off, your url will not show up at all in the search/tagging system. Keep it on.
I had my blog flagged for NSFW because I would have the occasional nsfw post. For some reason (I haven’t figured out why yet) if you have this switched on, you won’t pop up in the search/tagging system. If you’re a hardcore adult-orientated blog, then it’s your choice if you want to keep your blog flagged, or be tagged in a fic.
If you (writer) still can’t tag the reader, then it might be because of:
Main or side blog is protected by a password
Blog is blocked (Person A cannot tag Person B because Person Bblocked Person A)
Tumblr is being a sack of burning shit more likely than the two above
I know there’s already a few of these (I think only like one I’ve seen) but I wanted to make a complete set of Kaneki references for all of the Tokyo Ghoul fans. (Includes the chapters each Kaneki appears in and short info)
Child Kaneki: • Appears in flashbacks • Human • Age: Tiny Child
• Most notably Tokyo Ghoul Chapter 140
Kuro Kaneki Ken: • Chapter 1
• Human • Age: 18
• Wanted a date • Got fucked over, but not in the good way
Kuro Kaneki Ken: • Chapter 2 - Chapter 66 • Half-Ghoul • Age: 18-19 • Started working at Ghoul Cafe: Anteiku • Meets Many Ghouls • Still small and scared
Eye Patch: • Chapter 23- Chapter 140 • Half-Ghoul • Age: 18- 19 • As Kuro: weak and not a very good fighter • As Shiro: “the fucking strong”
Shiro Kaneki Ken: • Chapter 67- Chapter 140 • Half-Ghoul • Age: 19 • Cannibalized • Left Anteiku •
partnered with Tsukiyama, Banjou, Team Banjou, and Hinami
aaaaAAAHHHHHHHHH FINALLY DONE.
Ok as of lately, I have been obsessing over ‘Hamilton’. And, surprise, surprise, I’m obsessing over Thomas Jeffershit. And I suddenly notice that I haven’t draw Grell in a while so, I drew Thomas and Grell with switched clothes. Enjoy
Based off of the request: Hi! Can you do an imagine were the reader is dating Tom. And she has this very important event and wants Tom there, but he couldn’t make it (idk maybe he was busy with the movies or something like that), and she gets sad because she wanted to see him (they haven’t see each other personally in a while bc the reader goes to university). And Tom tries to apologize doing something cute and the end is like very fluffy? Btw, sorry this is so long and I tried to explained the best I could. Thanks.❤️
idk what you mean by gif reaction masterlist because it’s rarely separated by member… but i guess if you’re looking for a specific reaction so that you don’t re-request it - then here you go! i have no problem doing this haha
Sitting down in front of each other, a tea in grasp and blowing lightly against the ripples forming, observing the steam glide towards him and away from me. “There’s plenty of successful couples with big age gaps.” He insisted as he wore a heavy look of confusion between his brows.
Placing my mug down I keep my hands wrapped around it for warmth as I tuck my legs under each other behind the metallic chair. “Come on, like we are the first ones.” Sarcasm rolled off of my tongue, resulting in a small smile to form on his face momentarily before going back to a harsh look of concentration.
“Name a couple then.” He retorted and placed his hands around his mug, eyes locking with mine with such intent it was as if I were back in school being asked to answer the question in maths that no one knew.
Rubbing my lips together I bit my tongue as my mind scanned through every celebrity couple, playing an elimination game. Lingering on one I blurted it out, “Trump and his wife.”
His eyes dropped along with his shoulders, unable to hold back the disappointed sigh. “Not the best example.” I began to chuckle in response, only triggering him to join in.
As our laughter faded we went back to the quiet, it no longer being quite so comfortable knowing we had to talk about it sooner or later. This being the latter of the options having suppressed the urge to blurt it out or suggest it as we walk by the beach. “I’m going to go back home the day you go.” I want to mutter it, let it be spoken without the feeling of it hanging in the air heavy. Instead I speak loudly, making him finally here it.
“No no I get it, it’s your summer break and you have friends back home wondering about you.” He was mumbling, distracting himself, being uncomfortable and avoiding my gaze.
Leaning across the table I hold my hand out to which he picks it up, drawing invisible triangles into my palm. “It’s not just that Dan, I mean we’ve been together for a year now and this is your biggest part of tour.” The triangles stopped, instead he held it lifelessly. “You’ve got to prepare and all since you’re going in three days.” Sighing I struggle to hide the irritation that itches away at my thoughts, never ceasing as the day grows closer. “And I, I’m nervous.” I mutter the last half, unsure how else to possibly word it.
His grip tightens on mine, “Why’d you be nervous? It’s only four months.” I can’t help but let out a dry laugh to his response. Pulling my hand away from his with some force as he grasps onto my fingertips, not wanting to let go.
“Do you hear yourself?” I retort to him as his eyes remain blank, “Four months, that is almost half of my course in second year done.” Still, nothing besides him retracting his hands, cupping the mug tightly instead of my hands. “That is four months of me trying to not come across as needy, not wanting to seem desperate in wanting to hear from you.” Sighing I push my hair out of my face, taking a deep breath.
“And I’ll spend those four months trying to not coddle you from thousands of miles away.” His voice falters as he tries to maintain eye contact, struggling to evidently. “We did it before with two months, we can pull through.”
My eyes searched his for anything besides optimism as mine held reality, how the two of us would probably feel miserable one month in. We barely scraped out of the last leg of tour, only having dated for six months then. Smiling supportively I reach my hand out to intertwine with his and sip my tea, “We’ll be okay.” I mutter more for myself as opposed to him.
Waking up knowing what today would bring feels demotivating. It makes my chest heavy, as if I can’t move out of his arms and want to treasure every minute we have together as if it were our last. Turning around to face him I tried to take internal snapshots of his sleepy form, how his brows creased together leaving small lines like those on his suit shirt. The way he wore a small smile as I shuffled closer into him and subconsciously his grip tightened around me and rested his head in the crook of my neck, mumbling nonsense.
Smoothing his hair back I refused to let the tears fall, to allow the emotion to creep in. For the time being I have to be strong, defiant. I refuse to be weak, but deep down he knows I’m crumbling. Last time I saw him off for tour I was excited for him, enthusiastic to see his adventures when he got home but the second I saw him depart I broke down. I remember having him come up to me, tap my shoulder and hold me tightly in his arms, kissing me one last time and wiping my tears as his eyes watered.
It’s not easy, saying goodbye to those you love. Four months can seem like nothing or everything. Neither of us are sure which yet.
The two of us began to get ready in silence, neither of us able to commit to a conversation as all I could do was focus on the suitcases we had laid out before us. Going down the stairs I got a single message from Will, ‘how are you?’ a fair few responses came to mind as I looked at the message. Physically, able. Emotionally, struggling. Mentally, close to breaking.
‘I’ll be alright, always am.’ I typed back and placed my phone away as Dan came down the stairs, his eyes gloomy like the London weather outside despite the early hour it is. “Tea, coffee?” Breaking the silence it sounds too forced despite me standing by the kettle. He shrugs in response and sits down, looking at his phone with an unreadable expression, refusing to shift his focus away from the brightly lit screen. “Look Dan, how does this help either of us?” I clench my teeth, unable to hold it back.
The silent treatment on the day we both leave, I go back home, he goes around America. “What’d you mean?” He asked as his eyes remained on his phone.
“I mean, you sitting on your phone. Me trying to not get upset about someone I love so much ignoring me in the last hours we have together before you leave.” Sighing I turn my back to him, waiting for the kettle to boil.
The chair scrapes across the floor as I hear him huff, “Now who is acting like a child?” Quick to retort I turn around, glaring at him as my eyes blur with tears.
Blinking I shake my head to him, the anger melting from his eyes as he realises what he’s done. For months I put up with his friends teasing me, I dealt with the comments online, I tried my best to keep it lowkey at Uni but somehow I couldn’t.
Someone called me naive, that I had no idea what I was doing. That was the start of it all, the turmoil that followed through.
Whatever I did I was called names, a ‘sugar baby’ a ‘hoe’, ‘slut’, ‘user’, ‘bitch’, ‘desperate’, ‘fake’, ‘kiddy’, ‘pathetic’ and so many more worse names.
He knew how much hurt I went through, not that he didn’t get out of it with a clean slate but those fans adore him too much to hurt him, so they hurt me instead. Muttering my name as I ran past him up the stairs he held back, he knew his mistake. Picking my phone up I ring the first number I see on my phone, “I’ll be in touch soon, I’m sorry in advance.” I gush to him as he follows with various questions, completely caught off guard. “Just listen Will, I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of me anymore. But thank you, thank you for the friendship and constant kindness.”
Hanging up I grab ahold of my suitcase, passing the photos of the two of us and the others on nights out, on our trip to Rome that I always dreamt of. As I reach the top of the stairs he hovers at the bottom, eyes cast over and hiding the blue sky, the sunlight I could use. He notices the suitcase in my hand and sadly shakes his head. “Please don’t go, not like this.” He whimpers and sniffs loudly as I pass him.
Grabbing a hold of my arm and I turn to face him. His face is tinted pink at the cheeks but consumes his eyes, the once fluffy white clouds surrounding the stormy blue darkens, as if the rain is soon to come. “I can’t do this Dan,” Sighing I pull my arm away. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think we can make it through like last time.” Placing my cold hand against his warm cheek I catch a tear as it falls and feel it weave through my fingers.
Removing my hand before he had the opportunity to hold it one last time I pick my bags up, ignoring the rings of my phone and walk out of the door. Hearing it shut slowly and lock I can feel it rising in my chest, the pain, the regret and the instant heartache as tears fall silently, no sound to be heard.
Tapping my pen I rest against the fabric chair, staring at the title of my essay unsure how to begin. ‘How does Plato use the world of forms effectively to create an image for society and does this reflect in modern day?’ It was too wordy, bloody Plato and his world of forms. Sighing I put my pen down as I reach for my phone, a month of radio silence from him but a phone call every other day from Will. The day I left I phoned him on the train, the anger I’d never heard from the one with the soft voice. It took me a while to ease into conversation, then one night we FaceTimed. Immediately he pointed out how much of a mess I looked, in the background I could hear that laugh I subconsciously craved.
I regret shutting down after that, the look I gave Will of fear and ended our call. He tells me somedays how Dan seems brighter then other days all he wants is to talk to me but doesn’t know how. ‘Do you still have feelings for him?’ Something he tries to ask every week, some way to make me express the truth about it all. It is undeniable, I hear a split second of his voice on someones phone and dwell over it all day, the heartache that is etched into my soul that increases with each passing day.
‘Would you want to see him again?’ Today’s question, courtesy of Woody as opposed to Will. Pondering the thought I glance back to my essay and write the introduction then flick back to my phone.
Yes. No. I’m unsure. I hate him. I love him. My heart can’t take the toying. My mind can’t cope with the abuse. My self can’t deal without him.
Thinking through all of my options I pick my text books up and leave, wander towards the one place I can get clarity. As I see it in sight my heart twists, it feels as if my intestines have wrapped around my heart, squeezing at the nostalgia of distance flutters I had when I first met him. The smell of salt and dry seaweed, ‘fresh’ fish and chips, seagulls squawking at any who interrupt their required meals.
All followed by the memory of our conversation, of the first time he spoke to me. The awkward stranger and the comfortable girl. Who’d of expected it, who’d of thought I’d return over a year later alone; me. Sitting down I hold onto my phone as I glance down to Woody’s message, I can’t imagine a life when I don’t hear his laugh or see that smile aimed at me. The way he’d listen to my thoughts like no one else would. How we’d dance when he was jetlagged, the glint in his eyes when I laugh or play the keyboard.
‘I’m afraid.’ Sending it I know it’s true, the apprehension that lies deep inside of my thoughts about the rejection, being unwanted by the one I want more than anything else.
Closing my eyes I can almost feel him here now, sat next to me admiring my photography. The two of us walking along here, exchanging names and pleasantries like it was nothing. Neither of us knew we’d get this deep, we were naive in it all.
If I’d been warned falling in love was this dangerous would I have backed out? No. As if I stayed clear I wouldn’t have lived, the memories I’ve made and the things I never thought I’d experience have happened. Someone I didn’t expect to love has left a hole in my soul unable to be fixed nor filled with anything sufficient besides his love.
Opening my eyes I text Will, the first thing I can think of that’ll make any apparent sense. ‘I will always love Dan, and have done since our fourth date. He’ll know why.’ Smiling as I sent it I walked by the old coffee shop, even today I remember all of the orders and take a trip inside.
Ordering myself a tea I sit down near our spot, I can picture us there now. Date number four, though we never called them dates as we were too nervous to title it so soon with something so official, serious. We continued to discuss paintings, my little knowledge and his combined into something else. Our conversations only got deeper, until he told me about the one night where he just stared at the sky and felt something else. He convinced me he was sober but I thought otherwise as he wore that mischievous smile. The more he talked the more comfortable he became around me, all barriers were down and we were fully exposed. There was almost a vulnerability about it that I’d never witnessed but loved. His eyes lighting up as we drank tea and laughed.
That was when I knew I loved him, and wished for it to never end.
Leaving the nostalgia behind me I went home, back to my flat and noticed a newly framed photo, one I’d never noticed. Suspicious I called out, yet there was no response. Letting out a hesitant sigh of relief I wandered through to my room, dumping my stuff but heard my phone ring.
“Hey Will.” I place my phone on loud speaker as I tie my hair up, a wave of tiredness hitting me hard like the water does to the battered pier I love dearly. “I’m at my flat, why?”
“Just wondered, you available to talk for a bit- face to face?” He suggests and I agree as normal. “Just open up your door then.”
Pausing I stare straight at my door, imagining my dear friend on the other side I hadn’t seen in months able to talk to me without fear of judgement or barriers. For once I didn’t have to wipe tears away and he’d be unaware, I could face him and laugh like old times. “Are you at my door?” Mumbling I edge closer to it, wishing I had a peep hole.
“Open it and find out.” He chuckles in response.
Gripping onto the door handle I speak up loudly, knowing he’ll hear it on the other side through the thin panels of wood. “If this is how I die then I will not be happy.” Opening the door I stutter on my words, unable to speak nor close my mouth.
“Have fun.” Will cautions and hangs up, leaving me alone.
Leaning against the door frame I tuck my phone into my back pocket, feeling as if I’m back to square one. His eyes remain focused on his feet, the same black converse and denim jacket as always. “Hi.” He mutters to me and slowly lifts his head.
As his eyes lock with mine the tightness in my chest eases, the warmth that thawed out the pain inside increased as I felt myself smile slightly, slightly. Analysing the other details of his face I can’t help but sigh, the bags under his eyes have darkened, the stubble forming a ginger beard that I always liked. “Hi.”
It’s as if we are on our first ‘date’ again, neither of us knowing where to begin. “Can I come in?” He politely asks and I move aside, holding the door back as he walks in, hiding his hands. “Before I explain everything I wanted you to have this.” Placing a thick book down on my small coffee table it is a simple black book, stuffed full and neatly tied with a black ribbon. “Go on, please.” His eyes widened with hope so sitting down on the sofa I took the deceivingly heavy book and untied the ribbon.
My cheeks instantly heated and a smile unexpectedly formed. Flicking through each page I heard a chuckle escape my lips and glanced up to him, the similar look reflected that I wore. Each page of covered in candids of me, of us that I had never seen. Little slips of paper and tickets or leaflets included to remember the day for what it was. “When, when-”
“The day I left.” He knelt down in front of me, holding my hands in his. “I knew I’d made a mistake in letting you go. I, I was afraid of losing you.”
Staring at him intently everything returned, the laughter echoed through the rooms, our late nights captured in these photos. Everything that I’d forgotten represented in this, tied up nicely with a bow- maybe even too nicely. “I, I love you Dan but I’m scared of getting hurt again.” This time I didn’t avoid his gaze, I kept a clear focus on it.
“One more thing,” Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out a folded up photo, making me laugh lightly as I held onto it.
The first photo I ever took of him, well the blur that he was in the photo. Smiling at it I opened up the book, placing it on page one. “It belongs there, as that’s where it all starts right?” I raise an eyebrow and he nods, a sweet smile forming, the one unique to any I’d seen since I wandered the campus.
“They’ve known this whole time haven’t they?” Asking him he merely smiles, the glint in his eyes returning. “And yet here we are, oblivious to it all until it was too late.”
“Sometimes those who are meant to be can’t see it. It is so unexpected that it is too good to be true.” Standing up he lifts me with him, wrapping my arms around his neck I move closer to him, “But then there are those who get lucky.” Smiling down to me I lean in, and it was true.