Definitely do not imagine Leo and Ravi getting caught under the mistletoe at a Christmas party. Everyone around them ‘ooh’s, Leo turns bright red and covers his face, and Ravi laughs nervously, completely caught off guard when Leo pecks his lips and runs away.
Summary: Three conversations. Three flashes of people gone. Three ways how some see them live on in another.
“You remind me of Itachi.”
The last Uchiha had declared it out of the blue as the two sat together in the Hokage’s mansion, waiting for Naruto to finish reporting the results of their training exercises with the village genin in preparation for the chuunin exams to Tsunade. The Hyuuga heiress was, understandably, confused. Sasuke grunted lightly, unsure of how to proceed. He found the Hyuuga girl’s patience to be a blessing as his mind took its time grasping for the words he wanted to say.
1x16 is when Barry Allen has no chill the most when it comes to Iris West and i fucking love it. Central City could be hit by tsunami and he would still be like Iris. yes Iris. but Iris. you know MY IRIS. no listen you don’t understand Dr. Wells, it’s Iris. lris, Iris, Iris. Iris West. Iris West-Allen whoomp there’ it is
5x10 reaction fic. klaine complaining to each other over skype about the insanity and stupidity going on around them
’ - and I’m telling you, Kurt, it was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen!’ Blaine rambles, face filled with disgust and no small amount of trauma. Kurt clicks his tongue sympathetically, wincing at the camera as he begins to change out of his NYADA outfit. ‘It was just so – so…’ Blaine trails off, apparently desperately searching for a word to describe his traumatic experience.
'Hetero?’ Kurt suggests, raising an eyebrow when Blaine nods vigorously. It’s an effort to hide his smile as he slips on his shirt and begins to button it up.
'You didn’t see it, though. There was so much face suckage, and – and boobs and groping…’ Blaine trails off and gives a full body shudder, closing his eyes for a moment. 'Like, I thought that night would be about the three of us, not me walking in on some – some boobfest.’