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#westallen – @cmartlover on Tumblr
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You Watch Us Run

@cmartlover / cmartlover.tumblr.com

cmartlover. Christian. Whovian. Sherlockian. Oliciter. Artist. Writer. Singer. Watches: Doctor Who, Arrow, The Flash, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, Daredevil, Broadchurch, Agent Carter, Sherlock, The Middle, Parks and Rec (a bit) I'm the girl who met Arthur Darvill in an NYC alleyway. (Not once, but twice. TWICE!) And then I met him again at Awesome Con (albiet unexpectedly)! Matt Smith signed my fez (yeah, I don't understand it either). He really is the sweetest person in the world:) Alex Kingston is one of the warmest, kindest people I have ever met. It was such a privilege to meet her at Awesome Con. And on that note, I can now officially say I've met my team TARDIS (Matt Smith, Karen Gillan, Arthur Darvill and Alex Kingston)
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"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

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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.

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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

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reblogged

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.

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