I want to love you
and not be terrified
of it, of you
of what it could change
but I would love you poorly
if I loved with anything less than my full heart
and I would love you wrongly
if I didn't cherish each piece of you
please give me time
if you can grant me patience
I am creature of selfishness and fear
and you make me want to be brave
but casting off the long played roles
is more difficult than anything I have tried
but I swear
one day my lips will tell you all
-- until then, I am always half honest by Abby S
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Over 100 p*rn bots followed me in the last month. I'm glad they acknowledge my hotness.
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Dear tumblr: I am, what always feels like, extremely old by tumblr standards. I am 40, and I have loved fandoms and been part of fandom life since I was a little girl wishing Mulder and Scully would fall in love while watching X-files in a darkened room on Friday nights. I am always among friends when I can talk to (at) people who love the same media I do, whether it’s in the comments of fanfic, on message boards, or right here, blogging and reblogging art, gifsets, poetry, and just plain textposts.
So it makes sense that on the night before my only daughter leaves for college half a country away, I’m here, endlessly refreshing, trying to distract myself. I need a friend while my emotions are kerblanging all around the room, and tumblr, tonight, you’re it. Everyone else knows too much, or too little, but tumblr? tumblr knows just enough.
Thank you, creators, madpeople, Stancys, Bellarkes, fashion blogs, the girl who keeps posting weird black and white photos from the 1900′s, friends and mutuals...I appreciate you. Every day, but tonight especially, and tomorrow when the apartment will seem too big and my life will seem so small.
I’m moving on to a new stage of life, I suppose, but tumblr? I’m taking you with me.
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My Tumblr experience summed up
2011-2013: Full on Harry Potter trying to cope with the history of my childhood coming to an end, devouring fanfiction with the amazing marauders fancast of Aaron Johnson/Andrew Garfield/Ben Barnes/Karen Gillan
2012-2014: Wannabe aesthetic Tumblr made of fall/plaidshirts/mountain/beachy/cozy vibes + dramatic poetry love life and memes about procrastination
2014-2020: Bellarke/The 100 hyperfixation, legit basically ditched my main and side for my Bellarke blog. Meta analysis, speculations, over analyzing trailers and crying over the hiatus.
2020-now: back to the side-blog which is really the main, no theme just shitposting and mixing all kinds of shit wondering what I’m still doing here after the traumatic ending of The 100 and with JKR being a terf. I’m literally here just vibing in my lil chaotic mind world, laughing in Tumblr humour, loving the wholesome stories shared here and generally just enjoying the escapism unequalled anywhere else. This website really feels like an extended/enrichment of daydreams and I love it for it, and I love you guys.
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an endless selection of wrong choices
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/EhG28yt
by Rhavia
Darling, you're a hurricane,
A bone-breaker with a human name.
Tethered to the earth from whence you came,
Running on fumes, you're an open flame.
A collection of poems written (mostly) between 2015 and 2016.
Largely Clarke-centric (6) with hints of or outright Clexa (4). Others are overall Skaikru focussed (3) with an air of "what have we become", with a couple other misc ones. Each chapter highlights the specific character POV, focus and/or ship where applicable. Full breakdown in first chapter notes.
Words: 2129, Chapters: 13/13, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of poetry collection (multi fandom)
Fandoms: The 100 (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other
Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin, Raven Reyes (The 100), Bellamy Blake
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin & Marcus Kane
Additional Tags: Skaikru, (as the focus of some), Poetry, Angst, Angst and Romance, the general vibe is What Have We Done bc really that's the show, uploading older work back from when this show had a death grip on me, there is a single one-sided bellarke poem but we're not going to talk about it, feels wrong to omit it but i don't go there, this is an all or nothing upload collection
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/EhG28yt
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Hey guys I'm trying to find this amazing bellarke poem but all I remember is that it end with "He loved me too early. I loved him too late."
I love it so much but I haven't saved it and I've been trying to find it for an hour now. If you remember who wrote it or better yet have a link PLEASE send it my way. I'll be eternally grateful!!!
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Rebel King, your Princess awaits.
You were wearing unresolved guilt and a halo of brown curls,
with a smirk and a sense of authority.
I was dressed in forgiveness and naivete,
with a dagger in one hand, and blood coating the other.
We collided unceremoniously.
Sharp angles clashing and breaking until we eroded our hard exteriors away.
(Are you still as soft as you were when you hugged me?)
You’ve still got my heart, you can keep it.
(It was always yours anyway.)
Please come back.
Maybe we can finally get that drink?
- 2199 days later and I’m still missing you.
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one day you’ll realise
you should have told her the truth.
because you could have escaped
and lived a long happy life
together.
yet you're stuck in war you can’t win
and the terrifying truth is
you don’t know if you’ll ever
see her again.
and that breaks your heart.
and the memories of her
are all you have left
but you broke her heart
and you know she hates you
for lying,
for leaving,
for loving her
because she’s a solider made
for war and you’re a betrayer.
you’re meant to be enemies,
it could never have worked.
loving her was a death sentence,
but it was one you would choose every time
because life wouldn't have been worth
living
without
her .
she was your death sentence but loving her made you want to live.//t.c
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She is not the view from the sky.
Clouds do not mask her beauty or hide its darkest parts.
She is the world beneath his feet on the ground,
bright and alive and unforgiving and terrifying.
She is the air that has filled his lungs and kept him breathing
since his boots were first muddied by the unforgiving earth,
some days cold enough to kill,
and others that fill you with so much warmth it stings.
She is both the fire that bloodies the sky,
that blackens flesh and trees,
and the flames that crackle next to sleeping bodies,
that gives them life until the warm morning comes.
With a face like thunder,
a storm beneath a clouded gaze,
just enough to warn you before her voice ignites,
the crackle that stings and singes its target.
With a soul like the sea,
beautiful, though secrets hide in its dark depths,
always changing, always shifting,
always powerful, always strong.
She is not the view from the sky, detached and distant.
She is the world beneath his feet on the ground, dangerous and exhilarating,
and she makes him think that maybe, just maybe,
Earth is not as terrifying as it seems.
the earth may crumble, but she will not
special thank you to @bellamylovedlincoln for listening to my rambles about diction and syntax and for reassuring me that i can make words after some food and a good night’s sleep
@bellamyblakesgun @as-inevitable-as-morning @notplatonicblarke @starboybellamy @stargirlclarke @bringbackwellsjaha @bl-ake @em-ori @bellesolo @deadshotbellamy @atlasbellamyblake @bobmorlee @frecklessbellamy @boob-morley @griffinnblake
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Person A: I will love you even if the universe grinds our old bones into stardust.
Person B: And even then, my soul will find its way to meet yours across the galaxy.
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She can sense him everywhere, always.
She smells him in the pine trees,
In the ashes and smoke left by campfires,
In the hours that follow a heavy rain.
She hears his voice in the gravel of roads,
In the deep rumble of thunderstorms,
In the soothing waves of every ocean and river.
She feels his skin in the hard mountain rocks,
In the rough bark of old oak trees,
In the thick grass beneath her feet.
Her mind is cautious and skeptical,
But her heart is desperate and aching,
Overwhelmed with need.
Her eyes look to the smell, the sound, the object,
Searching, seeking, hoping.
She reprimands herself afterward.
It's useless.
She smells him, hears him, feels him,
But she never sees him.
“Everywhere, Always,” by @as-inevitable-as-morning
Finally starting to break through this poet’s block. Hope you all enjoy! If you’d rather not be tagged in the future, please let me know!
@the-princess-and-the-king @parapluiepliant @ravvsreyes @abazethe100 @head-and-heart @octanakin @bellsgirl @bellamylovedlincoln @ilovethisship @overwatchfelicitysmoak @frecklessbellamy @bellxmyblakes @bobmorlee @bellamybb @bellamyblakesgun @bellamyinred @the-prosperous-peasant @aspeckof-stardust @the-ships-to-rule-them-all
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I don't think we were made for each other,
or that we were born soulmates,
or that we were put here by fate or by destiny.
The simple truth is that we found each other by accident.
Our paths crossed by accident,
and our souls intertwined by accident.
Sometimes I think that we weren't even supposed to meet,
that our stories were not meant to have chapters or even whole books
named after each other.
But here we are, years later, with your name permanently stained on my skin,
and on my heart,
and on my soul.
Undeniably a piece of me,
as I am a piece of you.
— we weren’t made for each other, no, but we found a way to fit together.
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– “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell”
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