The house is really quiet without you.
I want to know what’s next on the article! “…with the help of…” who? WHO HELPS HIM?!
YES! and also can you imagine what Iris was even going through as she wrote this.
Barry was gone! Her HUSBAND disappeared!!
coffee dates (◡‿◡✿)
The captains knowing when their OTP needs some alone time…which they spend standing there like two awkward turtles. ◕◠◡◠◕
Everybody told me that love was blind
then I saw your face and you blew my mind
"How often do you think about why friends came into your life? Was it random, by design, or maybe a little of both? Regardless of the reason, some friends you just know are gonna be by your side for a while. Others, you’re not so sure. And then there’s that one friend who, well, you hope, someday becomes something more. But ‘friend’ will have to do for now. And that’s okay. I guess.” Barry Allen, 1.05
Not sure what I love more about this…her awesome jacket or his fabulous backpack. Or maybe it’s Candice’s great facial expressions. Or that she’s wearing gloves to stay warm? OR MAYBE IT’S JUST ALL THE GOOEY WESTALLEN FEELS.
westallen appreciation week: day four favorite trait physical displays of affection
Favorite relationships on The Flash: Barry Allen + The Wests: “They are professional huggers.”
Watching OTPs confessing their love before I go to sleep. I can’t with all the feels right now.
I swear…we need another crossover so Iris and Felicity can have a major girl chat about these damn men in their lives dropping I love you bombs at the most inapproriate times even though we know they are crazy in love with them back. LOL
Look, there were so many times I wanted to tell you.
PROMMMMMMMMMM
1. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, he thinks, for the tenth time in a row. It wouldn’t be the end, if she said no. Sure, he’d been rehearsing all week, and he had stayed awake all last night, staring at the ceiling (not contemplating all the ways she would say no, and certainly not charlie-brown-questioning the meaning of life and love to the blank wall). But. it wouldn’t be the end. His heart would shatter into tiny little pieces, sure, but like magnets, they’d snap back into place the moment she smiled at him.
It’s Sunday morning, and he’s made pancakes for breakfast. Joe’s got his eyes closed, patting his belly contently, and Iris is happily finishing the last bites of the blueberries and whipped cream. He knows she’ll skip up to her room in a few moments and staaaare out her window before going over to his room (usually to wake him, and) to complain about how weekends were really meant to be a threesome. So he’s got just a few minutes for the ask. He drops his dishes in the sink, and runs outside. The flowers are still in the garage, thank god, but they’re tinged a little darker than they were when he’d picked them up yesterday. He grabs them, the dusty old boombox, and sets up outside her window.