sorry was in the woods

lesbianedgeworth  asked:

consider that one of phoenixs college professors was elle woods, who absolutely fits into the ace attorney universe like seamlessly

Elle can feel the deadness radiating off of kay and takes her to get a mani/pedi because honestly you may have chewed off your your fingernails but that doesn’t mean you can skip cuticle care!!!

she did the same thing for phoenix a long time ago (before he even became Her Favorite) and he keeps up the regimen religiously tbh.

(does this mean legally blonde is a documentary in the aa universe)

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

―    Robert Frost

BBC’s Sherlock Holmes Aesthetic ; requested by @quantumqueer

“I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.”

6

inspiration for witches

  • witches of the forest and the night - they change into wolves during the day and roam the green forest of trees searching for fellow caged creatures. The set free winged and wise owls under the moon, that illuminates their pearl feathers.
  • witches of the winter and stars - foggy winter evenings become hues of blue filled with starry nights for the witches. they live in old victorian schools surrounded by trees made dead by the harsh cold season. they wear bewitched moonstones around their necks that turn them into deers enchanting the frozen forest…
  • witches of the sea and precious gems - these witches live and breathe the sacred salty air of the shore. they use precious gems to channel their inner soul to undulate crashing waves into the grey sea. they dance and drown beneath the crystal watery surface like silver sea-sirens.
  • witches of burning fire and flames - golden wreathed witches filled with the radiance of bright fire and flames. they use blazing candles to illuminate the darkness in their cathedral of trees. their familiars are foxes as red as the sun and as sly as smoke from their fires. 
wild world: a summary

good grief: watching through my fingers and EVERY MINUTE AND EVERY HOUR

the currents: “i can’t believe my ears” is right DAMN

an act of kindness: and now it follows me EVERYDAY

warmth: where the album title comes into play

glory: looking up foR HEAVEN 

power: POWER,,, POWER

two evils: iiiiiiIIIIIII’M 

send them off!: that fukcing bass line and brass parts hjsdlfkj

lethargy: headspin happiness DEATH  

four walls (the ballad of perry smith): these,, foOOUur waAALls

blame: THIS IS MY BODY AND SOUL here

fake it: don’t turn over, turn over the PAAAAAaage 

snakes: ooh i’m not ready

winter of our youth: it’s 4am here comes the fear

way beyond: when real life’s more fucked up than fiction (also sick beats fam)

oil on water: dan smith’s voice gently cleanses your soul 

campus: help me help me help me help me 

shame: what can i even say, this song is SICK

the anchor: you are the light!!! that is blinding me! 

Weasley Parents + Coming Out

The first conversation of this type at this table had been Charlie, at seventeen, so serious and so scared. He’d looked down at his hands, not meeting Molly’s eyes, or even Arthur’s. The word asexual was whispered like something shameful, and the Weasley parents stumbled over each other to explain that it wasn’t. Shameful. That they loved him anyway. 

They walked away from the conversation feeling close to Charlie, glad for the opportunity to be trusted like this, and for the chance to reassure him of their unconditional love. They hadn’t expected the conversation to be the first of many. 

Fred’s turn was next, a few years later. He was sixteen, and Molly assumed when he asked for his parents attention at the kitchen table that he was about to confess to the mysterious burn mark on the outside of the house, just under Ron’s attic window. When he instead said that he was bisexual, Molly found herself almost relieved. It was Arthur who did the reassuring that time, though they both hugged him before he left the kitchen. 

Ginny’s coming out had been almost casual. She, too, had been sixteen, and had addressed her concerns mainly to her mother, sure that her father wouldn’t fly off the handle. As it turned out, Molly nodded and said that she had known all along, and Arthur laughed and started counting on his fingers.

Harry felt the same conversation necessary, after his breakup with Ginny. He looked, while pronouncing the words, as if he had put something very sharp in his mouth and was getting up the courage to swallow it. “You’ve taken me in and I broke up with your daughter, and I might start dating boys and I’m – I, I’m sorry.” 

Molly’s heart broke, like it always does when Harry’s lack of parental affection throughout his life shines through, and she reached for him, reassuring him that of course it was alright, they loved him like one of their sons, he doesn’t need to hide this about himself. Arthur laughed. “You saved three of our lives, Harry, and then the entire world. It would take a lot more than bisexuality to put us off of you.” It shocked Harry that he hadn’t been the one to use the word, but they had known anyway. He felt so much lighter, so much freer having told someone other than Ginny how he felt. The entire world felt within his grasp, now, with such a strong base of love to draw from. 

The last conversation - of their children, at least, their grandchildren were going to have their own sets of comings-out - didn’t happen at the kitchen table, but rather, at the front door on Christmas Eve, when Oliver Wood, dressed to the nines and bearing a beautiful poinsettia and a bottle of elf-wine, trailed happily behind Percy. “Mother, you remember Oliver from our school days. I’ve brought him tonight as my partner,” Percy said, in a voice that left no room for disapproval or argument. “I would have brought him before, but we didn’t want to steal Ginny’s thunder from the wedding.” 

Molly smiled, kissed Percy and thanked Oliver for the poinsettia, seemingly nonplussed, and just happy to everyone she loved, and everyone her children loved all under one roof.