A lot of pets will ignore you, but only a cat will follow you from room to room and check your lines of vision to make absolutely certain that you can see them ignoring you.
Reblogging myself because… what was that? Five minutes?
O_O
………my friend has made me curious
help me roger
Update: after I reblogged this someone messaged me offering me tickets to the sold out Hausu screening with a Q&A and autograph session with the director
These never work for me, but here’s to trying.
I don’t believe in these things
But last time I reblogged one ten/fifteen minutes later I got a call offering me a job
But I reblogged it because I was waiting on hearing back from the job. So there you go.
Roger is cute.
Eh Roger is cute I might as well
That fish is so happy it makes me happy.
Reblogging myself because I reblogged this yesterday and got promoted today!
“I hardly think this will improve my mood, Jemma.” Fitz grumbled as she pulled him up off the couch. The biochemist was grinning up at him, at least three full beers ahead of him.
“Oh, but I think it will, Fitzy,” Jemma retorted with a giggle as she stumbled over toward the radio. She pressed play and an upbeat song that Fitz didn’t automatically recognize began to play. It didn’t quite sound like something Jemma would listen to-maybe something Daisy had suggested.
“What are we even doing?” Fitz inquired as Jemma began bouncing around, head bobbing from left to right.
“Dance off,” Jemma replied as if this was the most obvious answer in the world. She began to back-pedal through the room, hopping in place every once and awhile.
Feeling completely ridiculous, Fitz remained precisely where he was standing, not doing so much as swaying to the music. Jemma quickly noticed this and marched over toward him.
“If I win the dance competition, I get to kiss you. If you win, you get to kiss me.”
Slowly, Fitz began to sway to the music, and eventually started to loosen up and began to dance around the room, making the biochemist laugh.
Blushing hotly, Fitz began to do some moves from the drunk giraffe, making Jemma nearly double over with laughter. He slid over toward her, thankful for his thin socks and their lack of a carpet, and took her by the hand and spun her forward, before reeling her back in.
They continued to sway to the music for a moment, but eventually the sound faded into a slower one, leaving them both sleepy.
“I love you, Fitzy,” Jemma breathed into his shirt. Smiling, Fitz dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
