"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.
Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.
Everything is going to plan up until the precise moment it starts to fall apart.
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.
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.)
Diarmuid and the mute make a bed in the wilderness.
The world hasn't ended, and Raleigh's pretty sure he's glad. That doesn't mean he's happy about the PPDC wanting them back.