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cover your ears.
In the Meme Vault
"Why, you gonna say a bad word?"
Less than a breath later, the rather large explosion nearby spoke volumes for him. Molly's hands flew to her ears, features scrunching in a grimace. Her heated, vehement cursing was muffled beneath the blast, only falling off once she was certain the noise had died down. Hard to tell; her ears were absolutely ringing.
"A little further warning would've been nice." She mumbled.
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are you hurt?
In the Meme Vault
She slowly pushed herself into sitting, groaning perhaps a little too dramatically. Her jacket had rips, her mask scuffed to shit and likely her forehead was bleeding--but was she going to give Sam the satisfaction of an I told you so? Hell no.
"I'm just peachy, bird-boy." She grunted as she pushed herself up to her feet, dusting herself off. Glancing about for the wingman--a nickname he probably hated but she most certainly enjoyed--she frowned. "Where the hell are you?"
🌿
In the Meme Vault
It wasn't the best circumstance, but given the holiday atmosphere and general feeling of cheer in the bar, Molly decided there was nothing wrong with just being a good sport. Mistletoe was supposed to be fun, after all...she just happened to pass under when Sam did. Accidents happened. So did whiskey.
Shrugging, she leaned up and pressed a quick but chaste kiss to his lips, stepping back just as quickly as she'd moved forward. "Merry Christmas, and all."
“ it’s over. you lost. ” ( sam / bucky
He sighs, exasperated. How many times is this going to happen? This constant losing, this endless cycle of never making it out on top. It's not Sam's fault, surely. It was his money, his choice. And Sam had told him not to do it, too. Now, all that money is gone just because of one lousy bet.
"You should've stopped me."
“The divorce papers are on the desk.” (Bucky / Sam
He cants his head to the side in observation of Sam, disbelief marked in a tiny smirk at the corners of his mouth as he raises both brows in question. It's a game, that's all. It's something he's saying just to get a reaction out of him, to rile him up and get him to say things he'll have to take back later and apologize for. "No they're not," Bucky falters, trying to convince himself that this isn't happening. But he's got to get himself together and think reasonably. "Tell me they're not."
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“We were better as friends…” (Jess / Sam
Shrugging off what he says, she reaches for the bottle of bourbon for a refill. She's already drunk, but what he says makes her want to get even drunker. Maybe he's right. Maybe this whole thing's been a piece of shit game where both players lose. They were good friends, sure ― but this... they took it too far with the late night talks and the sharing bottles of booze in the backseat of his car and the passing out on her bed under one blanket, her head on his chest just so she can listen to his heartbeat. But she won't admit any of that meant a damned thing. It's a good thing she didn't because now he's saying they should just go back to how things used to be. "I thought that's what we were."
“So, first birthday. Still too little for a car?” (Sam / Bucky
Bucky laughs at what he says because he can't be serious. A one year old kid can't even drive a Hot Wheels car on their own. Besides, how good is a one year old's memory anyway? They're gonna forget everything they're taught. "You think that’s wise? I mean, it’s up to you but I’d keep it for the kid until they come of age. That's the plan ― right?"
