#;banner

[secondhandmckie]

“Very suave. Very not pathetic,” he murmurs at himself, shaking his head; he’s kneeling on the floor, gingerly sweeping up the shattered remains of what was once a datapad. “I really didn’t mean to yelp like a dog somebody kicked, I just startled pretty bad.” The smile he turns up at her is almost a grimace, full of what embarrassment becomes when it’s had years to hang out to dry.

In the Meme Vault

“That happens. Not recently, mind you--and not so violently either, come to think of it.” Molly knelt across from him and offered a hand in cleaning up the debris. “But it has happened. No offense taken.”

“You know, somebody once said I reminded them of a crocodile. Ah, the one from Peter Pan? It was trying to eat Captain Hook, and he knew it was around because it would tick? There was a clock, and....” She shrugged, pushed dark hair from her face. “Anyway, I had to learn to be sneakier, and I guess I brought it home with me--sorry.”

“Sorry is what I mean to say. And I’m Molly. Ah, I think you know that. Maybe? Newly boss-ified. Lieutenant General McKie, but Molly’s fine. I like my name better. You’re Bruce. Right? That’s what your file says...”

[secondhandmckie]

6, 12, or 24 for carrying meme

Pick Molly Up Meme

6)  for receiver to pick up sender who keeps insisting they aren’t tired and carry them to bed anyway. (aka I can't read and I'm assuming they're picking up Molly since she's not big enough to do the opposite)

"Quit looking at me like that." Molly mumbled, keeping her focus on the book laid out before her. She'd rubbed her eyes once--just the once--and now suddenly Banner seemed to know better. Molly didn't need bed, and she sure as hell didn't need a babysitter. That didn't seem to matter to Bruce as she suddenly found herself scooped up with ease, carted away from the work she'd been pouring over for...well, damn near two days at this point.

"Banner--what the hell, man?! I was almost done!" She wriggled, not really caring if it tipped the both of them over.

12)  receiver walks into kitchen while sender is cooking,  sender picks them up and sets them on the counter. 

Her nose had led her--or at least started the journey. The rest of the way had been paved by her stomach, growling like a beast. There wasn't much that could tear her away from her pages once she'd gotten settled in them for the evening, but damn if whatever was going on in the kitchen didn't smell divine.

She also hadn't expected it to be due to Fixit's handiwork.

"...Joe?"

The second the name had slipped from her (though chances were that he'd heard her long before she'd seen him), Fixit's hands were at her waist, hoisting her onto the countertop with maddening ease. "Seriously? Manhandling me isn't gonna win you brownie points--" She cut herself off with a sniff of the air. "...whatever's cooking might, though."

24)  our muses are walking somewhere together and receiver spontaneously picks up sender to carry them the rest of the way. 

"I am not walking too slow, I'm walking the perfect speed and the perfect amount and perfectly--HULK!"

Before she could blink, the green goliath had raised her high and set her over his shoulder as easy as he might lift a dishrag. Clearly she'd been wrong when she stated that she was moving the perfect speed--it had been, for her, but apparently not for him. "Dude, this is so unprofessional. I could lodge complaints, you know! Wouldn't do much, but I could!"

"Could I at least be right side up??"

[secondhandmckie]

“You sure you’re not a mutant? Because you just read my mind.” The flare of the match illuminates his face strangely; every movement of light and shadow seems to reveal a new one before concealing it just as fast. “This all should go up pretty quick. These chemicals aren’t the most flammable I’ve worked with, but they’ll help it along just fine. You can turn away if you want.”

Banner wants to blow shit up apparently

"Wha--dude!"

There's a brief moment of panic at seeing the match. It wasn't as though she expected Banner to be joking at a time like this--far from it. But...well, when she suggested chaos and mayhem, usually the other party tended to be the voice of reason. Striking a match around apparently flammable substances was enough to cause concern.

Even if it had been her idea.

After a moment, she wrinkled her nose. Then, she slipped her hand into his larger palm. "Just get it over with."

[secondhandmckie]

"This is why we don't perform lobotomies anymore."

In the Meme Vault

"Look, I know you're joking, but it feels like it's too soon." Molly held up a hand, turning her face away from the latest in a long line of mishaps and misfires Cabal called experiments. It didn't typically turn her stomach anymore--a few bad days in the field had a knack for knocking that sensitivity out of you.

This one, though. This one was...gross.

"Can we either scoot out of here or set the place on fire? One or the other. At this point, I don't care which."

[secondhandmckie]

“I’m bulletproof. Nothing bad’ll ever happen to me,” he laughs when he says it, because they both know it’s more than half a joke.

@despair-with-walnuts

"It doesn't have to be a bullet for it to be bad." Molly replied, though she wasn't entirely certain why she bothered. Banner was in one of his moods, and it was the sort of thing that she didn't particularly have time or patience for at the moment. So, she flopped down with her weapons, setting up the makeshift workstation to clean them. He could either stay and join her, or he could leave and risk his neck.

"One of these days, bud, you're going to wake the fuck up and realize that people give a shit about you--whether you want them to, or not."

[secondhandmckie]

“What are you hiding? And don’t you dare try to lie to me.”

It’s so rare for him to snarl. But he’s doing it now. His teeth are bared, and they’re strange- broad and flat, a flicker of something blunter, something savage.

“Don’t you fucking start that shit with me, Banner.” Molly snapped back. Yes, seeing him this way was frightening—she almost missed the wounded puppy look he wore most. It was all preferable to the barely-caged beast before her.

It took everything to not immediately mimic the look, the stance, comical as it might’ve been to watch. She didn’t like feeling intimidated.

“What I’ve got goin’ on has nothing to do with you, so back the fuck up and fuck off.”

[secondhandmckie]

He smiles in that bruised way he has. It seems frayed around the edges, though. Threatening to unravel. “If think about it,  I get angry. And I don’t… know where that anger stops. So I’d rather not start at all. You know.”

In the Meme Vault

“Y’know, I think I heard from some therapy something-or-other that the more we try to repress and compress the anger, it just turns into a rock in our belly and blocks damn near everything.”

Then, Molly shrugged, and offered the bottle she held. It was decidedly not soda. “But what do I know? I’m a mess six ways from Sunday. Just…” she drums her fingers beside her, swinging her legs off the edge.

“Just if you ever do…y’know? Want to? I may be a mess but I can listen well enough.”