I don’t watch alot of LGBT live-action movies and TV so I just found out about the “bury your gays” trope because of what happened in the 100. I’m quite shocked this trope has been a thing for a long time.
LGBT fans deserve better than this kind of treatment.
Look. I know a slightly chewed up flower isn’t quite on par with those brandy barrels alpine rescue dogs purportedly have, but someone might need an emergency flower or something. It could happen.
Dawn came late over the water, with the first kind of light, all rose and golden and violent, spilling through the city streets and mingling with the neon signs and street lights. From the piers, the boats began to chug along, breaking out among the still waters, beginning the slow churn of the day. The buses zoomed along, kicking up exhaust clouds and stray papers from the day before, all while the subway creaked and crawled along, warming up and shaking off the rust of slumber beneath the giant that slumbered on above the tunnels.
With a slight chill in the air, the seasons had effectively changed once more, fall quickly on the way out and the bite of winter planting itself firmly in the air, drawing it tight, making it like tiny whips that scratched at lungs and made noses raw.