#secondhandmckie

She got dumps like a truck, truck, truck

Thighs like what, what, what

Baby move your butt, butt, butt

At least it’s not a Rick Roll?

(Enjoy Ian :3)

while the cd had been pushed across and left for him at her departure —— he hadn't taken the chance to actually read the words sharpied across the sleek surface until after she was gone. ( there was an air of embarrassment when it came to opening gifts in front of the gifter. ) but it was an immediate red flag once he had [ ... ] the sickeningly sweet title scrawled far too saccharine for the likes of her. for either of them, for that matter. but nevertheless, the plastic case it was secured in would be dragged from the table as he reached for his portable player and headphones —— just in case it really was something disgustingly sappy. even in the comfort of his home, the comfort of the poster covered basement walls, he had a reputation to uphold.

the possibility that it might be some sort of romantic gesture settled in for only a moment at the sound of violin strings welcoming him upon hitting play [ ... ] but it was quickly squashed only seconds in as sisqo's voice came chiming in over them. ( all night long, let me see that thong. ) he couldn't possibly contain his amusement —— even if he attempted to in an empty room. it would feel like she'd won if he managed to laugh.... but he'd let the song play out regardless; all the way to the end where the silver haired vocalist was practically hollering in a siren call about some fucking underwear. unfortunately, he'd never admit to actually enjoying the song.

with his headphones shoved off and sitting idly in his bed —— he was reaching for the landline as soon as the opening song ended. black painted nails dialing her number and waiting somewhat impatiently [ ... ] until her voice finally picked up on the other end. and without a simple hello or what's up, ❛❛ yo, what the fuck is wrong with you? ❜❜

Only Kindness Matters || Daryl & Ellie || @secondhandmckie

Daryl isn't sure what the feelings he has going right now are or where they came from, but he knew he liked them. He liked the way she made him feel. It was as if he was buzzed on moonshine without having taken a single solitary drink. His blue eyes are soft and quiet as he watched her. He can't seem to take his eyes off of her. That had been happening more and more lately, and while it somewhat unnerved him, it also calmed him.

He could feel her fingers, feather-light around his wrist as he kept his hand where it was on her. He swallowed thickly, trying to clear the slight fog that had enveloped his brain. He cleared his throat gently, leaning into her space more than he probably should. "Wish we still had some of them berries like the last time," he reminded her.

They'd shared berries on the small front porch of the cabin while the rain fell in rivers and swirled around the campground. The thunder had rolled in the distance until the thunderstorm had reached them in full force. It was only then that they'd been forced inside as the lightning was too bad to risk being struck.

hawke can't help but scrunch his nose at the question. his forehead presses against the side of the greasy, wooden wall of the bar he'd found himself in. loneliness and past regret had his numbers working of his own accord when he found the corner to make the call in. all around him people were cheering, laughing, and screaming. cody was around somewhere, playing personal bodyguard.

as if that were necessary or something.

a black baseball cap hid his eyes in shadow and a hoodie meant his most noticeable tattoos were hidden in plain sight. no one had approached him and asked if he was that guy from the band, so the singer assumed he was pretty safe. for the moment, anyway.

how stupid would it be to say he was in a place that made him think of jack? how stupid would it be to say that hawke missed the peace and quiet of being with someone with no connections to music? dating a paramedic wasn't exactly stress free but it was different. normal.

" i, uh... " glancing up, the singer's eyes rolled when a transfer love tour date poster was stapled about half a foot above his head.

cody's head pops from between two sets of shoulders that he'd unceremoniously shoved past. the bassist was also wearing a baseball cap but it was backwards and hid a small bun. oddly enough, his friend looked pretty different when those long black strands weren't framing his face.

expensive leather shoes had carried him down the concrete steps of a now thoroughly scoped out bank —— no longer in the shade and air conditioning the building had offered, his hand reached to adjust the hat on his head. just barely blocking out the late afternoon sun beating down with the heat of a harsh vengeance. the accessory is lifted for only a moment —— allowing slender fingers to run through slicked back blond hair, before it's once again returned to his crown. he shoves his hand into the front pocket of slacks as he begins down the sidewalk, grasping for a fresh pack of marlboros and coming up successful; but upon further searching and digging.... his search for a lighter would be less so. fuck. it must've still been in the empty pack. now rotting at the bottom of a city street trashcan.

and so he sets his gaze on a target —— the one sitting on a nearby bench with book in her hands. his approach, however, would be met with a very dismissive response that made his eyebrows raise while a quick retort was already brewing. almost offended.

« ellie » i'm not supposed to talk to strangers. | | | | | | @secondhandmckie.

  Now, he finds himself sitting at the bar, restless with the images from his old life swimming around; still coated in blood. The blood never left, now. He was deep in his thoughts when he felt a presence behind him. Shit.  “Look, whatever it is you want, I don’t got it.”

HIS GAZE WAS SHARP. Rush had to be, especially when diagnosing a patient. He wasn't sure if Molly would pitch over as she experimented with walking. Though he should be more worried about the excessive drinking.

When she didn't fall, the man released a breath. "Fine. 'Please, no heavy labor. I take pride in my work and my patient's health. Please don't do anything to jeopardized that." Rush knew his pleas fell on deaf ears. At least he did his part.

"Think you're going to live?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. He fished for his phone and sent a quick text to Eve, asking for a prescription for Molly.