#mal aria

Malcom: *working as an interdimensional lawyer in one of Peter and Elias multiple divorces* Excellent question! *smiles nervously* I think that we've been together for longer than most couples and remain perfectly happy in this universe and so our relationship in any other universe matters little, I'm simply glad that I exist in this one.

Ross: Spoke like a true lawyer.

bald Mal:

I would pay to watch a cartoon with these characthers. I would also seel my soul for it (or for the hiatus to end [if there's any demons interested I'm up, give me a free mastectomy and HRT and I'll also turn evil and try to gather souls for you]).

Cole and Bonnie are so cute and I love them and their slow burn will end me, ladies you are in love you are basically already wifes please stop being scared and mary already. Like if it was a QPR it woulr be fine. But both of you already indicated you would like to also be sexually and romantically together please I'm begging.

I love Harper they are very relatable and they and their sibbling do have a very superhero name that fits their lore so well. It is also just a good verbal stim. Also they are so autistic and good for them. And also also I'm so excited for the possibility of Gideon going to work for Phill and having a duel involving the Aria brothers and their college rivals (to lovers?) young protegees in court together. Very silly Ace Attorney Shennanigans.

Talking about the Aria Brothers Mal is great, I love him. The silly punny name, the not actually a vampire vampireness, him fulfilling the silly loneleyes dreams and a silly way, the fact he is actually very down to Earth and a good boss. He is the grumpy character with a heart of gold and I love it for him! The joy he takes on stalling. Also I love imortal characthers not getting references. Mal rules.

Can I have a Mal. Please. I need him

be grateful I gave him hair /silly

She didn’t know who had put these things inside her.  She didn’t know the name of her illness.  She had at least as many options as the orchestra in the Amazonas, decades earlier, that used to die out anew every year.  Anyone whishing to experience the opera house with its full lineup had to get tickets early in the season.  Before you knew it, the violin or the cello was missing, and the clarinet, the trombone, the piano, and the trumpet would soon follow in some unpredictable order.  The playing was not quite right.  Sounds of silence.  Audible illnesses.  It went on this way until all the sound as gone.  In this slow ebb, the orchestra left the impression of life withering away.  The final concert, no matter what instrument was last, consisted of just a thin string of melody held together by despair.  Because that offered a particular beauty of its own, it was sold out every year.

“Do you know why everyone falls silent when they sit around the fire?” Carl said.

“Hmm?”