"Your husband is a schmuck to eat out when he's got a dish like you at home."
A little bit of contextless silliness, written for Elise. Mild Jehan-related naughtiness and an impatient Grantaire.
What is love, listeners? What is it about the nature of love that makes the threat of harm so integral to its existence? If we were to pry open the human heart from its delicate cage and carefully carve into it with a scalpel, we would find no evidence of love.
Everything is going to plan up until the precise moment it starts to fall apart.
Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.
Beginning a life in Montreal.
Carefully taking a pillow and placing it in his lap, Ted mumbles, “Think I outta be getting home, sleep this off.”
“Can’t do that either,” Higgins says, grimacing sympathetically. “You’ll have to, ah, burn it out.”
(In which Ted gets dosed with sex pollen, and Trent and Rebecca work together to help him through it.)
Jeff's used to playing with Richie; they've done it since they were 17. He signs a contract with Philly thinking he'll win a Cup there, with Richie. Then they're traded away from each other - and it turns out, that's just the beginning. The sweep, the trade, the SECOND trade, and what happens after.
No inch of his bared skin is a revelation to Tang Fan, but stripping before him still feels like an unveiling, marital. A deification of the profane.