all the people sympathising with snow and saying they can't hate him anymore after watching tbosas... y'all let awful white men get away with ANYTHING as long as you find them attractive and it SHOWS
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the thing I really love about tbosas is that you go into the story thinking you know who’s the songbird and who’s the snake but “songbirds” and “snakes” are both plural because as individuals Lucy Grey and Coryo are both a songbird and a snake in their own right, in this essay I will
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i need someone to talk about reaper ash from district eleven. i need someone to talk about him and how he had collected his fellow tributes’ body one by one after they died and covered them with ripped out flags as a way to give them their own resting place in the arena. and i need someone to talk about how, after lucy gray had tired him out, he just made his way to his own makeshift morgue, rested beside his fellow fallen tributes, and covered his body with the flag before he himself died.
and how that was literally all he did. he didn’t kill anyone there (which was not said to uplift him from the others because it is a kill-or-be-killed situation, just to make a point) despite what he had said to them the night before, and how he had his own way of resisting against the capitol by refusing to play its games. someone talk about him!!!!!
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“It starts with a talking snake.
And it ends with a seven headed beast.
But no, it is not fiction.”
A story with talking animals, witches, wizards, dragons, satyrs, giants, a sun that stops in the sky, and stars that fall to the ground is, by definition, fiction.
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crowley who has to physically fucking restrain himself from needing to touch aziraphale not even sexually just needing to be wrapped around him and his face nuzzled into his neck or cuddled up to him because fucking snakes seek out fucking warmth and aziraphale exudes the warmth of overwhelming love (but not just love for the creatures of the world, not just the regular all consuming angelic love, it’s stronger somehow, it’s different) and the gentle and enveloping warmth of the sun and crowley has to step away to stop fucking snake instincts from wanting to wrap himself up in him and feel that warmth and safety fill his blood and body and feel the tension drain from his woefully serpentine and painfully human form (the sun is 93 million miles away from the earth, aziraphale is 3 feet away from crowley and feels even farther)
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Sej is the kind of man to drop to his knees and bury his face into your stomach when he's upset.
No words, he's just suddenly on his knees, headbutting your stomach gently like the sweetest tomcat in the world. He'd reach his hands up to hold your hands or rest them on your waist.
Sej will even look up at you with his gorgeous wet brown eyes, poor baby is on the verge of tears and he's just begging for affection.
Sejanus is not a golden retriever boyfriend. He is a brown tabby cat boyfriend and those that own brown tabbies will understand immediately
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