I can write for days about people who don't exist interacting with similar non-existent people, but ask me about myself and I can't write a single damn sentence. If you actually have enough interest in my life and personality to read this, you should probably just talk to me. You know, ask me questions and make meaningless discourse about your day, week, month, life. It's less stalker-y that way. Not that you're a stalker! Love ya, person I possibly don't know who is still reading this even though I'm officially rambling. It's cause I'm awesome, right? Yeah, I get that a lot.
I actually found this pretty depressing because when Happy asks her if she’s boxed before, she looks so proud of herself when she says she has, and then he just kind of demeans her response by suggesting that she wasn’t a real boxer, and you see her face just drop.
Natasha Romanoff: professional to an extent.
she’s totally like:
is Tony still arguing? he’s still arguing. Gonna notice? Nope *SCHOOLS*