this is what happens

anonymous asked:

What's Stephen Amell's "dumb face"?

Stephen Amell’s “dumb face” is his expression as Oliver whenever he gazes moonily at Felicity. Amell has never used it looking at any of Oliver’s other love interests, and it’s super dorky and open and genuine. 

Here are some examples of Stephen Amell’s dumb face as Oliver:

1. “I’m a former playboy but you make me super nervous” dumb face

2. “I remember everything about the day we met” dumb face

3. “I want to have a million babies with you” dumb face

4. “I love you but maybe goodbye forever” dumb face

5. “I want to believe that I’m a good man” dumb face

6. “I looooooooooooove her” dumb face

7. “Casually hanging out shirtless waiting for my cranky lady love to come home” dumb face

8. “Whoa, she might want to marry me?” dumb face

9. “My face is so dumb!” dumb face

10. “I’m proposing to the love of my life” dumb face

  • Misaki's inner monologue:I just really like it when Usagi smiles. And I can't imagine my world without him. I want to be close to him. I get anxious spending even one night away from him. I want him to be close to me and never leave me alone. There is no one in the world who understand me more. He is very important to me. I can do anything with Usagi by my side, and knowing he'll be a part of my future.
  • Usagi:Misaki, I love you
  • Misaki, out loud:Quit saying such gay af shit you weirdo homo.

I’ve decided Civil War should actually be a series of conversations between Rhodey and Sam, discussing how stupid everything has gotten. Like they get all stealthy in their hoodies and ballcaps (or not because Rhodey would never and is horrified at Sam’s fashion choices. Leather coats and baseball hats are not ‘blending in’ holy shit.) and meet up for coffee. 

“Your white boy still being stupid, Colonel?”

“It’s what he’s good at.”

*serious nod* “I heard that.”

“And at least he’s not trying to ground helicopters with his bare hands.”

"Man, don’t be like that. It made sense to him at the time.”

*sips coffee*

"What’s up with the kid in the spider costume?”

"I don’t even ask anymore.”

And thus commences a back and forth about who is dumber this week, Tony or Steve (it’s a draw.) and some questioning of life choices, and the eventual conclusion they should both just retire and go wait it out on a beach. Which is what they say every week.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Nick Fury sips a drink out of a coconut and continues to avoid Steve and Tony’s attempts to tattle on each other. 

That’s it. That’s the movie.

The single dad next door and his daughter are currently camping out in their yard, tent pitched, small campfire crackling, lantern glowing. It is single-handedly the cutest thing I have ever seen.

And I am brushing my teeth, seeing their silhouettes huddled over the lantern to get it lit, and through the window I can hear him explaining how it works - with the oil and the wick - and all of a sudden I have this image of Killian and a little girl, crowded into a little tent in their tiny yard.

And she’s whispering (rather loudly) because it’s dark out and their neighbors are probably sleeping, and Killian is patiently helping her practice tying knots while she explains to him that Grandma lived in the woods and ate rabbits - but only when she had to - and that sometimes even Grandma got scared in the forest, but she’s not scared. And Killian hums in all the appropriate places and smiles at her in just this absolutely smitten way, and he agrees that even he gets scared, so he’s glad that she is camping with him, and she just nods solemnly and says, “I know, Daddy.”

And they have their own sleeping bags - hers is so small and so pink - but an hour after they put out the fire and snuff the lantern, she crawls into his sleeping bag with him, and snuggles up against him so that her tiny nose is pressed into his neck and it is impossibly, too hot, but he just kisses her forehead because how can he not love this.

“I was worried you were scared,” she tells him, and he responds, “I’m not now, love.”

And when they wake up in the morning, she is sprawled completely across him with the sleeping bag kicked off, and it’s so endearingly like her mother, and her mouth is hanging open as she lightly snores, and he doesn’t want to move her, but the tent is baking them in the early sunlight. And when they finally pack up and head home (across the lawn), she excitedly tells her mother of their adventures - “We heard a bear!” (they didn’t) - and promises that next time, she can come, too.

And I didn’t ask for any of this.