#para: we are who we are

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman, @realmackross TIMING: Week of September 18th SUMMARY: Mack meets her brain dealer for the first time, and the pair actually find they have more in common than they thought. WARNINGS: Alcohol mention tw, brief mention of suicidal ideation tw, and lots of talk of body parts since these are zombies lmao

It wasn’t uncommon for people to be walking around Wicked’s Rest with an igloo cooler in their hands, something that Caleb counted on when he had to make deliveries to one of his clients. Most people assumed that the man loved to fish, using the cooler for his lunch or whatever he caught in one of the many lakes or the ocean and he was just fine with keeping that illusion up even if he didn’t like to fish. His foster dad had taken him a few times when he’d been younger but Caleb had always felt bad for the poor wiggling creatures as they gasped for air on the end of a hook, something that had been a source of ridicule before. No, he stayed away from that these days. But if anybody asked, it was one of his main hobbies in life.

He pulled the cooler from the passenger seat of his beat up pick up, the vehicle looking so out of place in the Harborside neighborhood. When Taylor had texted him the address he hadn’t been expecting such an immaculate looking place especially since they’d always met in public before. It was the first time Caleb had been to her residence.

The sprawling gate that stood before him puzzled the zombie until he spotted the little intercom, Caleb’s brows furrowing before he slowly reached out to push the button. There was a beep and he stood there for a second, not sure whether he was supposed to talk into it or not. This was completely different than what he was used to. “Uh…I’m looking for Taylor?” It was posed as a question and he grimaced, knowing he sounded so stupid. “Yea, um…Taylor gave me this address for a delivery. Is she here?” 

—

Mackenzie hadn’t been back home too long. It had been weird coming back. It was so quiet. Eerily quiet fitting for the zombie herself, but she had already missed Monty, the farm hands, and Sallama Gomez. She knew she could go back and visit anytime she wanted, but what was she supposed to do all the other moments of the day? It didn’t help that both Winter and Taylor were mad at her. And she knew Alex was probably spending most of her time with Cass. Mackenzie had felt lonelier now then she had before going off the rails as a possessed zombie.

But one other issue that Mack was facing was the fact that for her fresh stock of brains, she was going to have to meet with the supplier herself. Something Taylor had arranged in the past. And speak of the devil, she had heard the intercom system go off.

To say she wasn’t nervous was an understatement. What was this person like? Did they know who she was? Were they going to try anything? I mean, she was dead, so what could they possibly get from her? Hearing the confused voice on the other end made Mack a little hesitant, but if she didn’t want a repeat of the past week's events then she was going to have to face the man herself.

Pressing the button, Mackenzie unlocked the gate. She had refused to say anything over the intercom system, rather opting to see if he was alone, when he reached the front door. Thank goodness for security cameras.

—

When he heard the buzz and then the sounds of the gates swinging open, Caleb stood up straight and stared down at the little box. Would Taylor send him to his death? They’d been doing these exchanges for some time now and he’d never gotten the indication that she would sell him out but the lack of an answer from the other end had his mind spinning with the possibility. His eyes traveled to the gate that was now sitting open for him before moving back to gaze at his truck, the zombie contemplating getting inside the vehicle and getting the hell away from this place before something came at him. 

He was dead already, yes, but that didn’t mean he liked being attacked any more than the next person. Dying sucked and it hurt like a bitch. 

Coming to the conclusion that Taylor could have sold him out at any point during their interactions, Caleb gripped the cooler tighter and started to move through the gates towards the house. “Jesus…” The word was mumbled to himself as he took in the place, now wondering if he had been undercharging Taylor this whole time. As slow as he was going, he was able to marvel at the beauty of the estate for at least a full minute before he was absentmindedly wrapping his knuckles against the front door.

—

Mackenzie had already watched as the stranger moved up the driveway and towards the front door. A part of her had started to worry noticing he wasn’t the most clean cut man on the planet, but she also knew that not much could hurt her. Well as long as he didn’t set her on fire or try to chop her head off. She could still recall the vague marks around her neck where something had tried to saw her head off during her run as a rogue zombie, after touching the flats. And it had only further added to the mystery of what had happened those moments of not being present.

As she heard the knock at the door, she gave him another look over, before reluctantly making her way forward. The last thing she had wanted was to hurt anyone else, so she knew it was a given that she would need the brains.

With a deep breath, Mackenzie made her way forward and finally opened the door, “Hey, are you the guy with the…brains…” The word hung in her throat. She hated that she had to survive off the misfortune of others. Even as an actress, she had tried to stay humble and kind knowing how celebrities were seen by a lot in the world, but this was just different. And with every brain she consumed, she had learned to say thank you.

—

“You’re not Taylor.” To be fair, Taylor had never actually told Caleb what she was doing with the brains. The woman had touched his hand once and he’d noticed how warm it had been even with his limited senses so after some questions he knew she was getting them for a client, but she’d never told him who the client was before. Mostly because he’d never asked. If he was feeding a zombie he was keeping that zombie from hurting the living and that’s all that he needed to know. But for some reason he’d been picturing some guy in a fancy business suit who didn’t want to be seen buying the unsavory product, not a young girl who had a problem just saying the word ‘brain’ without sounding like she was going to be sick after doing so.

He clutched the cooler even tighter, not sure if he wanted to trust this interaction just yet. “She never mentioned that I was bringing this to somebody else. Is she here?” Could anyone really blame him for being cautious? Caleb was selling brains for god’s sake, anyone would want to have visual confirmation of the usual client if some random stranger came to the door for the delivery, a delivery of a product he had yet to confirm for the blonde. But his silence had to be indication enough that he was, in fact, holding the organ.

Besides, Caleb’s supply was already running low and he didn’t need to be giving out an order to someone he couldn’t trust. If something happened and he needed to replace it, that was another few brains down the drain. “I just…do you have the information I gave her, at least?” 

—

“Nope. I’m Mackenzie.” She looked at him and then down at the cooler. It was hard knowing what the contents were that he was holding in his hand. Where did he get them? Did she even want to know that? There were a lot of questions swimming through her mind, especially since returning from Monty’s farm. She knew of two people she had killed, but had she killed more? Is that how he was getting them or was he just a middle man? Being a zombie had been hard enough, but she had always been at a distance when it came to brain supply until now.

“She gets them for me. She’s not here. She’s in California. She’s my assistant.” Realizing this wasn’t the best transaction to be making on the porch, she stepped back and allowed room for him to come in. Was she nervous letting some random guy in her house, yes, but she could defend herself if need be, “Let me go get my phone. It’s got all the information on it. And if you don’t mind shutting the door behind you when you come in. Figure we might as well take care of this inside rather than outside. You never know who could be watching.” She hadn’t seen any paparazzi since being in Wicked’s Rest, but who knew what this town could draw to it.

Leaving her trust in him, Mackenzie ran upstairs to grab her phone from her bedroom. Surely this guy was legit. He had seemed just as suspicious of her as she was of him. And if it was one thing the young actress had come to learn, it’s that most people who knew about the supernatural tended to be leery of anyone they talked to. But considering all the ways that things could go wrong, you kind of had to.

—

“Your assistant, right.” That wasn’t uncommon. Most people who paid for take out brains were able to afford people to take care of the unsavory parts of the business. He dealt with a lot of those in his choice of a side business and he honestly preferred the assistants on most occasions. They were usually nicer. Not that this girl seemed malicious in any way. No, she just seemed…so young. Of course, looks can be deceiving, especially when dealing with those that had to live off of brains. As his brain went back and forth between the possibilities of her own situation, Caleb barely heard the words that came from her mouth, the zombie still standing outside the door as she walked away.

But something registered in his mind, the man looking behind him as he thought of who could be watching them. Why did she have people watching her? Who was this girl? He had two choices here: stay outside and risk this transaction being witnessed or step into a stranger's house not knowing what was waiting for him inside. Ultimately, he decided to step inside and shut the door behind him. He'd deal with the consequences later. 

“You probably uh...probably shouldn't store that on your phone.” Caleb called after her, not knowing where she'd disappeared to and only hoping she'd heard his words within the gigantic house. Yea, he definitely needed to start charging more. Might even be able to afford something better than his apartment soon. 

”Did you say someone is watching you? Why? Are you in trouble or something?“ If so, they had something in common. Did he want to deal to a client that was also being watched by law enforcement though? They would only bring unnecessary drama to each other. She'd been loyal for months though and he didn't want to leave her empty handed...if she ate somebody because he'd denied services Caleb knew that he would never forgive himself.

—

Mackenzie slipped into her bedroom and snagged the phone off the nightstand. As she was in there, she had heard him say something, but with her hearing not being what it used to, it sounded more like a mess of jumbled words. Just one of the many perks of being a zombie. She would find out what he wanted when she went back downstairs, but first she double tapped the phone screen to see if she had any notifications from Taylor.

None.

With a sad sigh, she left the room and met the man with her food supply back downstairs, “What were you saying? I couldn’t understand you. Sorry, my hearing isn’t what it used to be.” She felt weird saying that considering how young she was. As she waited for him to respond, she began pulling the receipt up on her phone, “Here. Is this what you needed?” Mackenzie turned the phone to face him and held it up. “Is that enough proof?” She understood what he was doing was probably a dangerous line of work to be in, but it didn’t make it any less awkward to be meeting the person who supplied you with human brains.

—

”Of course...I should have known that, actually.“ Why would she have better hearing than him? They were the same after all. Dulled senses came with the territory of being dead, at least for a zombie. ”I was just saying, you probably shouldn't keep that on your phone...especially if you have people watching you?“ Something Caleb was still curious about which was why he posed that last sentence as a question. Even if he wasn't going to deny services he would still like to know how cautious he needed to be with her. 

He eyed the phone, squinting as he got a little closer to the screen but not wanting to reach out and take it from her . There was delicate merchandise in his hands and he tried to make it a practice to not touch other people's things if he could help it. But it was Caleb’s information that was provided when a purchase was made, discreet descriptions and all. It should have made him feel better about this but it didn't. He never felt good providing brains directly to a new person, it lingered for a while afterwards until the paranoia could have time to subside. 

”Yea, seems to be in order.“ Caleb tapped the top of the cooler, not handing it over since the supply would need to be transferred. He probably should get another one just in case but right now this was his only one. ”Where should I put these? I imagine you don't want them sitting around your living room.“ 

—

It was weird hearing someone say that. That they should’ve known her hearing was shit. Did that mean that he was a part of the undead too? Mackenzie didn’t want to ask. It was a very personal question, and one that she never really liked answering herself. But she couldn’t pretend like he didn’t at least know what she was, since he was delivering her brains after all, “Right. Yeah, I’ll probably delete this after you leave. Wouldn’t want it getting into the wrong hands…” Fans. Tabloids. Police. There were a slew of people she was trying to avoid at all costs, when it came to her zombism. “It kinda sucks being an actress and having to survive off of brains. Privacy is a precious thing.” She sighed softly.

Looking between him and the cooler, she could see the wear and tear on the thing. This had to have been a one man operation right? And he hadn’t set it down or let go of it since he had arrived. It may not have seemed like it, but Mackenzie paid attention to this kind of thing, “Glad it’s all in order. Really didn’t want to have to go without these.” She looked back up at him, “Follow me. I’ve got a fridge downstairs solely for this purpose.”

Mackenzie turned away from him and began walking down a smaller set of stairs, before turning right and going into a room that held her two extra refrigerators. Pulling the door back, she couldn’t help but see all the random containers of stray body parts and a few extra brain containers, “Just sit them in there. And thanks for coming by. I know a guy in your line of work probably doesn’t really like making house calls.” She moved away from the fridge, but continued to watch him.

—

”An actress?“ Somehow that seemed worse than her being watched by the police. It wasn't just a department's worth of people with eyes on her, it was most of the world, at least those who cared about celebrity gossip. The house, the assistant, it all made more sense now at least and Caleb’s suspicions about all of this were starting to fade, as much as they could, anyway. ”Wow...yea that seems like it would be rough. Being in the public eye can't be easy, it's hard enough being a nobody and having to navigate this.” He felt for her, he really did. Always having people following her around and he assumed she never had much privacy, it must have sucked, especially with how she had to survive now. 

“Downstairs...right, this place is huge.” Caleb walked after the blonde, his eyes traveling over the space as they went. “For the record, I don't want you to have to go without these either. Don't need hungry zombies walking around this place. There's already enough going on.” Enough people dying. He saw the influx coming into the funeral home on the daily, it was getting out of hand. Erin had even shown concern over how many people they were seeing. 

The many refrigerators had him slowing his steps, Caleb wondering how many brains this girl actually had in them. They had expiration dates, right? Did zombies get sick from bad brains? Probably something he should know. But when she opened one and he saw the other body parts it registered that she wasn't a brains only type of girl. He, himself, hadn't had other body parts since his first kill but he couldn't judge. Food was food, especially if it kept them satisfied. “I'm Caleb, by the way. I don't know if I introduced myself before. I was just expecting Taylor and got a little nervous when it wasn't her.“ Kneeling down, he started to put the stock that he'd brought next to the other containers, shaking his head at her comment. ”No, house calls are better, actually. Not being out in the public is preferred. I just want to know who I'm meeting when it comes to them, you know? Mostly so I know I'm not being set up.“ 

—

Rough was an understatement when you were killing people without realizing it. It’s why, when Taylor had first found out about services where people actually offered brains, Mackenzie found herself so relieved. If she had to do this to survive all the time, she’d gladly take the silver bullet to the brain or whatever the trope was for zombies. This was never anything she’d wish on anybody. Not even her worst enemy, and she was pretty sure she had gained a few of those over the years, “Yeah. Apparently that’s just my life now. It’s also why I moved here to Wicked’s Rest. It’s a bit quieter, I guess. And there’s no paparazzi lurking on every corner.”

“You’d think I would have chosen something a bit smaller huh? For wanting to be so discreet. But when I saw this place I fell in love.” She really did like her house. It was ridiculous for just one person, but she had known of other more well known actors and actresses with much larger houses who were living the single life. It was kind of ridiculous the more she thought about it, but here she was.

“No, I don’t think so, but it’s nice to meet you, Caleb. I’m Mackenzie.” Honestly, he had every right to be nervous. She would have been too, if this was what she did for a living. It took a lot of guts to sell brains to the undead, especially if you were the supplier and middle man, “I can imagine this must be a nerve wracking job. I know I couldn’t do it. And if house calls make you feel more comfortable then, that’s how we can do this.” Especially considering she was pretty sure Taylor was still pissed at her and would be for a while. “Can I ask you a personal question?” She was almost hesitant, but decided to just go for it, “Are you a zombie too? Or did you just figure that you could make a killing off the brain business?” She paused realizing what she had said, “No pun intended by the way.”

—

“Quieter, yea...“ He let out a breath of sardonic amusement, knowing that most people didn't realize what a dangerous town this was. He'd been bitten by the undead, fought with vampires in the cemetery, and countless other things throughout Caleb’s life that he couldn't quite explain. If Wicked's Rest hadn't been all he knew, if there weren't people that he cared for still living in this town, he would have moved a long time ago. ”Just be careful around here. There's a lot of things that are more dangerous than zombies. At least you can't really die unless somebody knows what they're doing.“ He was starting to talk too much, but seeing a fridge full of body parts in her house didn't exactly inspire suspicion anymore. Ironically, it inspired trust more than anything.

After placing the last of the containers in the fridge, Caleb closed his cooler and stood, not really holding onto it as tightly this time around. Coolers could be replaced, brains were scarce. He closed her fridge and turned to face her, his eyes moving around this room as well. ”I mean, you have to be comfortable with your living situation. If this is what you like then it's what you like. I've just never been inside a place this big before.“ No, he was used to the suburbs and then his single bedroom home on the outskirts of the suburbs. Nothing this fancy had ever been available to him.

Surveying the girl, he smiled at her willingness to meet up here from now on. It was a nice offer to make him more comfortable but it wasn' t just about him, was it? ”I appreciate that but it's also about what you want. I'm not fond of inviting strangers into my own house, especially with what I keep there.“ Of course, she kept the same things he supposed and he was about to say as much before her question caught him off guard. 

It wasn't like he enjoyed talking about what he was but he'd also never been asked outright before. Considering she was a zombie herself, not to mention the fridge that stood behind him full of different pieces of other people, he felt like he could safely say something about his own status. It wasn't easy though. It would be the first time he admitted it to someone other than himself and even if he’d wanted someone to talk to about it he was still reluctant to say it out loud. ”I...am, yes. I'm not the type of person who would do this if I didn't feel like I had to.“ Caleb bit down on the inside of his bottom lip, a little disturbed by something else she had said. ”I don't kill, by the way.“ Or he hadn't yet except for the unfortunate accident. He might have been considering it but the zombie wouldn't call himself a murderer just yet. ”Your brains are provided violence free...at least by my own hand, anyway.“ And for the time being.

—

Mackenzie listened to him. It sounded like he had definitely had more experience than she did. Of course, it felt like most people that lived in this town and knew of things that went bump in the night, knew more than her. She was just doing good enough to take things day by day. One step at a time. And it was somewhat reassuring knowing that people HAD to know what they were doing in order to end her undead life. But at the same time accidental deaths were a thing as well, and even she still didn’t fully understand how zombies took that final nap, “Thanks for the heads up. I’m still kind of new to this life, if you can’t tell.”

Mack was pretty sure he could tell. Most people who knew anything about the supernatural could probably tell she was as green as the grass outside on a summer day, but just like anything else in life…err death…practice made perfect and with time came experience. Luckily for her (Yay.) she had all the time in the world now, until that so-called accidental death or person with the right skillset came along, “Yeah, it’s fine. Besides, I think meeting in public somewhere would be worse. At least here, you know it’s guaranteed to be private.” Aside from the people in this town who already knew her secret and would sometimes come by for a visit. She’d just make it a point to schedule around Caleb’s visits. “I mean if that’s okay with you? I know World’s End Isle is a bit of a drive.”

She shifted her weight and leaned back against the wall behind her. Mackenzie was enjoying the conversation they were having. It was nice coming across someone else like her even if he was her brain supplier, “Thanks for telling me. I know it’s not something you probably really shout from the rooftops. Lord knows I don’t.” Unless I try to eat somebody and they just figure it out on their own. Sigh. “And I appreciate knowing that. I’m not gonna ask for the details, because I don’t really want to know, but as long as more people aren’t getting hurt just to keep me alive.” In the movies, being a zombie looked so easy, but in real life, it was a completely different story.

—

God, she was new, wasn’t she? It wasn’t like he was super experienced himself but he had to have a couple of years on her at least and he had lived in Wicked’s Rest his whole life. It wasn’t like him to stick around a client's place after a drop off, everything he did with this business was strictly professional, but when it came to someone who didn’t know much about this life he had a duty to try to help, right? Caleb eyed her for a moment before he spoke again, finally making a decision on the offer he had been considering giving her. “You know…I’m not an expert but if you have questions I could try to help. Not guaranteeing I know everything, of course, but I think I might know more than you at this point.” A pause, the man wondering if he should even ask the next question on the tip of his tongue. It was personal but she’d gone for it before so he decided to as well. “How long have you been dead?”

It had been a bit of a drive in but in truth, Caleb actually enjoyed it. The scenery had been so nice along the quiet roads and he hadn’t really been to this part of town in a while. Beides, Mack's privacy fence was more than enough to convince him to drive out here more often. “I don’t think you’re that far, really. I like seeing this side of town anyway. When I was younger I used to go to Harmony Hill a lot because the sound of the ocean in a quiet graveyard was calming.” Why had he said that? She didn’t need to know that. Clearing his throat, the zombie tried to play it off. “I don’t mind coming out here at all.”

A smile finally graced her with her words, Caleb shaking his head almost immediately. Why would anyone want to blurt out they were dead like it was no big deal? There were only a handful who knew what he was and it had all either come out because the other had their own secrets or…well, he’d been caught with a body. “No, I don’t exactly advertise what I am. I don’t know a lot of zombies that are proud of what they’ve become.” And the ones who were proud weren't people he associated with much. Purists, people who wanted to get their own brains the violent way. “It’s good to know you feel that way.” Even if the guilt of his impending status change to murderer was starting to eat at him. Maybe that wasn’t the best solution after all if most of his clients felt the same. 

–

The more zombies Mackenzie met in Wicked’s Rest, the more she began to feel accepted. Monty and a farm full of the undead had been exactly what she had needed after her rampage. Had she dealt with this alone, she didn’t know where she’d be. And maybe Taylor handing over the reins on getting her own brains was for the best. No, she hadn’t known what she was getting herself into today, but right now, in this exact moment, she was glad, “Really? Thank you. Thank you so much.” A smile crept over her face. It was warm and appreciative of the fact that he was willing to help her. However, the question she had just asked him had somewhat caught her off guard, but it was only fair that she returned an answer, especially since he was willing to, “Two years. And most of that time was spent just trying not to eat the people around me. That’s why Taylor has been such a big help in all of this. She didn’t run or tell anybody after I told her.” Mackenzie was easily starting to realize she owed a lot of people for helping her to stay on her feet through all of this.

Mack let her eyes and her smile drop, the thought of Taylor and then Winter coming to mind. Thankfully Caleb’s confession had pulled her attention away from two of the people she had regretted hurting, “Oh really? I haven’t been to Harmony Hill yet, but I can agree with that sentiment about the ocean. This house kind of reminds me of home and my family. I miss California so fucking much. Maybe one day, I can go back…” She sighed softly.

“You’re right about that. I mean why did we get zombies, when we could have been something else you know? Like a unicorn or a BigFoot?” Her mood had perked back up. Turning and moving back up the stairs, Mack replied, “If I ever say differently, then please put me out of my misery. This is hard enough as it is. I don’t want to actually come to the point in my undead life that I enjoy eating people.” She moved towards the kitchen, “Do you want something to drink? One thing I have learned is that the stronger or spicy the taste the more enjoyable it is.” She wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be there, but she could at least be a good hostess to her new undead friend.

— 

Two years, not long but enough to know the basics. At least she’d found her food source, that was always the biggest struggle for most zombies who had just turned. Caleb didn’t have that struggle, thankfully. Even when he didn’t understand his hunger, whenever he lost control it was usually around a body that was already there being prepped or when he was burying somebody after a service. That was something he’d always been thankful for. He nodded at her answer, a question forming on the tip of his tongue but it was one he wasn’t willing to ask. They barely knew each other and he knew if anyone had ever dared ask about who he’d killed over the years he would shut down. It was too personal, even for someone who had gone and was going through the same thing. “It’s nice that you have people you can talk to about it. Most of the ones that know about me are because of…well, telling them wasn’t intentional.”

But something in her expression changed. That grateful smile that had lit up her face was nowhere to be found after she’d spoken of her assistant and Caleb once again wondered why the woman wasn’t there. Was she really gone on business? He didn’t want to be accusatory though and he couldn’t quite muster up the guts to ask if that was actually the case or if something bad had happened. Or maybe it had something to do with her home. She did seem pretty torn up about not being able to return. “Is there a reason you can’t go back or…just trying to keep people safe?”

As amusing as the thought of being a big foot was, he already had the height part down, he couldn’t bring himself to muster up the smile that threatened to form. The thought only served to remind him more of what he was. “Or…you know, stayed human.” He hadn’t even expected the sadness in his tone and Caleb closed his eyes when he realized how that could bring the mood way down. Frustrated with himself, he shook the thoughts away as he followed her to the kitchen area. “I try to stay away from putting people down but I think I could send someone your way. Maybe?” Did he actually know anyone who would do that? Aria for sure wouldn’t and Erin shouldn’t even know that zombies exist…maybe K.O. if he knew what was going on. The man was chaotic enough. Now he was smiling though, Caleb eyeing the fridge and wondering if she meant what he thought she did. “Did you spike the water with hot sauce or something?”

— 

When he mentioned the unintentional telling, Mack’s mind went automatically back to the sleepover. It had been a disaster, and one she was just grateful hadn’t ended in tragedy. It seemed like wherever Mackenzie went these days, trouble followed, and it felt like most of it was from her own hand, “Yeah, that’s how it was for me. Mostly unintentional. Try zombing out in a room full of people you were just starting to become friends with during a sleepover.” She felt safe admitting that to him. He was like her after all. He understood the repercussions of being hungry when living people were around. Or at least she assumed he did. How could you be a zombie and not experience that at some point?

Mackenzie walked to the fridge and opened the door. There were so many options, but most of it tasted like nothing. She had still tried to incorporate regular food into her diet, but it was hard. However, glancing over, she noticed the bottle of Fireball sitting on the counter. It was unopened and fresh. And if he wanted to share a drink, she’d crack it, but if not, she’d wait. “Yeah, I’m so afraid of hurting my family. And they don’t know about any of this. There’s only two people from back home that know about what I am now.” Taylor and Winter. The two people she felt she needed most in this world right now, and the two who probably hated her the most.

She turned her attention back to Caleb, who had mentioned staying human, and on that note, shifted her eyes back into the fridge. The last thing Mackenzie wanted to do was acknowledge that. To think about it more than she already did in her waking life. “I’ll keep that in mind, about the person you know.” The conversation was already starting to make her mood drop even lower, but she was grateful when he brought up the hot sauce and water, “What? No. Even I wouldn’t stoop to that level.” She shut the fridge and leaned over grabbing the bottle off the counter, “I meant more like Fireball or maybe a Bloody Mary.” She turned around with a smile back on her face and held up the whiskey.

—

His smile slipped at her confession, Caleb not sure whether to be horrified or concerned or both. Yea, he’d lost control before but only around…people who were now dead or who’d already been dead. It was enough to make him realize how dangerous he could truly be and he decided that he needed to double down on keeping them both well fed if he could. “That…that had to be scary when you came to. Are they all, I mean…they’re alive, right?” There was no easy way to ask that question but his concern, the anxiety building throughout him, he needed to know for his own peace of mind. He wasn’t quite sure how everyone would have made it out of that situation unharmed though. 

“That’s definitely understandable. I can’t say that I blame you.” When this first happened, if he hadn’t worked for the Nichol’s family, he would have stayed far away from them. There were people that he had pushed away, people that he still hadn’t reached out to, so he could empathize. Probably more than anyone else in her life. “I didn’t really have the resources to get away but I did push aside a lot of friendships. I wish I could say it gets easier.” But it didn’t. It never would. Caleb was always going to worry about the people he cared for and even if he was branching out and dating now he didn’t believe he could allow himself to get too close. 

There it was. That look only to turn away, he knew it well. It was a signature move for him, even before his death. Caleb wanted to say sorry, wanted to apologize for bringing it up, but he let the subject fall. Instead, he focused on the offered drink, the zombie setting the cooler down before he leaned his arms against the kitchen island. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a Fireball. Sounds interesting, what makes it easy to taste for us?”

—

Mackenzie paused, realizing what zombing out in a room full of people probably meant, “Sorry. Yeah, yeah. They’re all safe. My friend knew about my fridge downstairs and grabbed what I needed. Nobody got hurt, but all I can think about is if they had. I think somewhere subconsciously that’s why I live in Fort Knox, because I’m afraid of what could happen.” She wasn’t about to mention her zombie rampage through town. As much as she was already starting to like this guy, she didn’t really know him. At least not yet, anyways.

“I’m sorry you had to push away people you cared about. It’s never easy. And then they don’t understand why you’re doing it, so it makes things ten times harder. But the idea of hurting someone you care about…it’s just easier to have them hate you.” Having her parents or Winter or anyone from her past hate her had been so much easier then experiencing the loss of Brody, and it wasn’t because she loved those people any less. It had been due to the fact that they were still living their lives and thriving. Brody was not, and Mackenzie couldn’t ever fix that. “At least, as much as it sucks to say, there’s others out there like us, so we’re not completely alone, you know?”

Mackenzie smiled fondly as she got out two shot glasses from the cabinet, “Really? I mean it takes a lot to get a zombie drunk. I don’t know if you’ve figured that out yet, so don’t worry. But what makes it easy for us to taste is the copious amounts of cinnamon in it. I wouldn’t have recommended this stuff in life, but now that we’re both of the deceased nature, it doesn't really matter.” She went back to the fridge and got out a couple of different bottles of hot sauce. “And if you want to be really wild, you’ll throw some of this in there for extra taste!” She sat the bottles in front of him and began pouring the shots.

This was definitely not how she had seen her brain delivery going, but she wasn’t exactly opposed to it either. Anytime Mack found another zombie to connect with, which was few and far between, it seemed to have made the undead life a little more bearable. Someone who knew exactly what she was going through just somehow made things a little better, and she had hoped she was offering that same grace to him. But it had also just been nice to have someone to talk to, and if this is how the rest of her day was going to go, then she wasn’t opposed.

[tatakaeeren]

JJK x KFC will never not make me cry 😭

Today, my friend took me to KFC after the episode and gave me Gojo PJs, he said "I thought this might help you sleep better....you know... Sweet dreams"

I was sobbing while eating my chicken strips because GOJOOOOO but also because it was an incredibly sweet gesture :')

[yore-donatsu]

“That’s all, King ? On the ground with a simple "slap". Pathetic !”

[pilferingapples]

LM 4.11.1

ah the readalong is already marching off to the barricades! Somehow this part always seems to come up before I'm ready, even though I know the order of events...

anyway today is Gavroche, and the explanations of his poetry, which means I am obligated to note this bit:

It is hard to miss the last cake.

Nevertheless, Gavroche pursued his way.

Two minutes later he was in the Rue Saint-Louis. While traversing the Rue du Parc-Royal, he felt called upon to make good the loss of the apple-turnover which had been impossible, and he indulged himself in the immense delight of tearing down the theatre posters in broad daylight.

For no reason. No reason at all.

[arunneronthird]

speak ur language day! buenas y saludos a hispanohablantes de todo el mundo, espero que tengan un día maravilloso y odien el inglés y sus putas palabras con dobles consonantes que hacen que parezca que no sé escribir la mitad de las veces

como celebración dejenme sus mejores traducciones de títulos, personajes o eventos de dc u otros fandoms para reír un poco y celebrar el idioma

personalmente el guasón como traducción del joker me hace gracia infinita

[blue-madd]

Made some picrews for my new Elmentian paras + the 3 older babies~

O'Liv,

Enh'eyra,

Atlas, Mona, Tori

[hylianane]

every time i think about that fucking Oye Primos disney channel show i shake with rage like i hope it never sees the light of day i hate gringos with latino grandparents so fucking bad

[gender-premium-tm]

hard agree on r&j

it does not live up to the hype! at my school they taught it in 9th grade, when most of us were 14, so maybe it started as a relatability thing? pedagogy of us schools is so whack and pop sciencey

EXACTLY!!! my teacher was all “oh you guys should be able to relate bc they’re similar ages to you!!” and we were all sitting there like “we would NOT fucking do that”

she tried to justify their irrationality by saying “well they’re both just teenagers and they were in love”. to a room full of teenagers. who a vast majority thought they should’ve just broken up and gotten over it if it was causing so many problems. needless to say none of us were very impressed

one part of our unit on r&j i remember so incredibly vividly was when we reached the actual death scene for both romeo and juliet and she asked how many of us also cried when they died.

literally NOBODY raised their hand (i’m pretty sure most of us hadn’t even read it LMAOOO). i ended up letting her know that i had flat out laughed when they died and she just looked at me like 😨

anyways. high school be wild

[dnangelic]

will you takeher hand?

' eh ... is it another dead end , eto-san ? ' from over her shoulder , his curious reds are visible and blinking even in the dark . when he had joined her for the sake of exploring an advertised labyrinth attraction , he didn't think that it would actually be so ... well , labyrinthine .

steadily charting a map in his mind has led him to wonder just how enormous the laid out complex was , though the tight corridors , despite being nigh pitch dark and immensely claustrophobic , didn't seem to bother him as much as anyone might have guessed it would .

as long as they kept going , they'd figure everything out at some point , right ? it's what he wanted to believe . it wasn't as if they were wandering blindly , taking care to memorize even the faintest landmarks and to make note of their steps . daisuke's about to turn when , even in the dim lit , he can make out the shape of her hand .

' u-um --- ! ' in an instant , the weight of every perceived expectation crashing into him , his heart starts to beat a little . his heart starts to beat a lot . ' n-no ... ! ' even a whisper as quiet as this still bounces audibly off the closed walls , but while his free hand sets over the space of his heart , his eyes widen at kimi before him --- ' wah ! n-no , i mean , not ... no to going with you ! or your hand ! i just ... '

his head starts to spin a little . he's starting to feel hot , and he's still acting like a total weirdo . it was normal for anyone in a labyrinth to want to hold the hand of their company to make sure nobody ended up split or separated , right ? yet the touch is still embarrassing , risky-feeling , and even worse , kimiko was still left standing there , awkwardly waiting for him to accept .

' i just --- um , ' a lie . he had to hurry up and think of something ... ! ' my ... my hands are a little sweaty . it might not be comfortable ... ' she might have even pulled away right away --- or called him gross without having any further interest in touching . yet still trying to resist any tremble , investing every ounce of his attentions into keeping himself calm and cool , ( just stay calm and cool ! ) he anxiously extends his own hand forward , and somehow , eyes shut , cheeks ablaze --- manages to slip his palm into her grasp .

it's warm . a little hot , even . his eyes snap open and he stares in wonder at her and their combined palms . wasn't it a little strange ? almost like dark's own deathly chill , avoided for as long as the boy's heart didn't reach its limit , transformation perpetually robbing him of his body's gentle heat . he only marvels briefly at his company's hands , pulled along down another long hallway . something like this , even wandering a seemingly endless maze that could have worn any lone person down ...

' um , eto-san . ' in the dark , he's relieved to hear that his nervous voice still sounded like his own . ' we ... we can do it ! ' she wasn't about to give up , and he wasn't either . like this , despite his usual worries and terror , it was even --- a little fun . reaching out a hand to him , and now feeling his own nestled within hers , was she as happy as he felt just to share in a little company , even in a dreary place like this ? ' we'll both get out . especially if it's us ! so , um ... l-let's try the other way ! '

maybe by the end of everything , they'd have a fun new victory photo to take home for themselves . or , if not that much , then at least a brand new memory --- one he'd cherish , quietly .

[littlebunnyblogs]

it's really interesting that there's so many people for whom Hannibal was a "lightbulb" about their paraphilias...which is really good for them! but it super wasn't for me. like I really loved Hannibal for its treatment of sex and death, but by the time I watched it I was already online masturbating to LiveLeak videos... Hannibal was nice but it didn't make me feel any more "normal" about what I was doing

[lou-bonfightme]

One Foot in Sea and One on Shore || [Self-para]

thank you to @eilonwy-notjustgirl, @waitingona-mirabel, @sanmononoke, @veevacious,

@devyn-morey, @amelia-o-gabble, @oh-phineas, @ugly-drizella for letting me borrow your characters. 🧡

|| || ||

July First The beginning of the month had started fresh and frenetic to Lou. The summer was in full swing now. He had never cared much for summers, but he could admit there was a liveliness to the air that filled his lungs with something light. The sun was golden, the water of the lake blue, and everything had taken on a shimmery, translucent quality. As if a very fine gossamer had been laid over everything. It was sweet and nostalgic and beautiful. 

Even the little problems that sprouted up like wildflowers at the theatre couldn’t touch his good mood. 

In fact, he loved all those little problems, as he plucked each one and made it disappear. It was satisfying to get his teeth into the meat of something he could solve. There was nothing he could do to solve Raksha’s predicament or Dhaumya’s illness. He could not give Hades a respite from MAFIA, or the situation at the Hauntley, or the other going ons about town. 

But he could fix the set pieces that sat too crooked or repaint the parts that someone had done poorly. Each of these little changes soothed that hungry, angry thing inside of him that had felt more awake the last few months. He stayed late, he came in early, chasing that next piece of rightness in the universe that would clear the clouds. 

|| || ||

[link here]

|| || ||

[parasol-culture-is]

Anti-c Para culture is considering moving to Aethy to post all your weird comship para stuff there but then finding out that the admins took down anything talking about Paraphilias and calling ALL of it “pro-c predator stuff” and you’re just like

​*joker voice* say ‘liking fictional minor x adult ships doesn’t mean I want to screw kids irl!’ And Aethy doesn’t bat an eye.

Say ‘I’m pro-para, but I’m against romantic/sexual contact for non-consensual paraphilias like pedophilia‘ and Aethy lumps you in with abusers!

para culture is!

[dimdiamond]

Looking at the Daniel Craig's accent choice for Benoit Blanc reminded me of that Greek actress who saw in her script for a TV series this at the end of her words "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And thought it was "IIIIIIIIIIII" So while doing the scene she started yelling "IIIIIIII" and made everyone die from laughing and the director and the scriptwriter said "We keep this" So yeah this is the story of how a whole generation of Greeks got Pavloved and learned to hear "IIIIII" and think of that role.

[lostinw0nderlandd]

Last day today thank fuck 😇🙏🏻

[blue-madd]

The only reason why my main paracosm will always keep its title as "main" even tho I have like a dozens more which aren't AUs & in which I pass more time now is because no matter how caught up in another world I am, the paras of my main paracosm will always find their way back to me as impulsive thoughts if not in another way

[flockrest]

eavesdropping, are we? / accepting / @mightiestbanana

     "So you think something's down there," Traysi intones, purposeful and slow in that cadence he knows means she doesn't quite follow the path of thoughts he's strung up. But hey, she wants to, and that always counts for something!

     "Someone," Penn corrects, pointing a pinion right at her, before it's swivelling back to be pressed on the folio depicting a chasm from a bird's-eye view. Or, uh, Rito's-eye view, technically. "A whole bunch of someones, even."

     "Right," she says.

     "Listen," he turns to their map then, outlining a circle around the area that makes up the Gerudo's region with a wave of his wing, "my fellas out there have heard too much of the same thing for it to all be a coincidence! And it just makes sense if you think about it, doesn't it?"

     "Sure," she says, not sounding very sure at all.

     "Come on, Trays. Tell me you're seeing it. The underground, underground. Those folks are down there, I'd bet my tailfeathers on it!"

     "The Yiga."

     "Right-o!" he crows with a playful salute.

     "In the chasms. The place even the Zonai Survey Team get freaked out about."

     "Cut 'em some slack, most of 'em are tiny civilians."

     "So— what, you want to go down there? Write an article on this?"

     "Aha, not just this! See, my little reporters keep telling me about this guy," his wings lift to make shapes in front of him, moulding from the air some nondescript head and shoulders, "this character that always pops up when they do their stickybeaking. I got no name, no description, but I figure it's someone real important, right? The, heh, head, you could say."

     "Penn," Traysi sighs, leaning against the counter and rubbing her forehead, "as much as I'd love to let you chase this, we have more pressing stories up here, yeah? Safer ones, and that's saying something—"

     "Oh, come on—"

     "—And really, weigh it up: Princess Zelda or some Yiga? Heck, anything that's happening up here right now or some Yiga? Which truth is juicier? Which scoop is gonna nab us more readers?"

     It's his turn to sigh, now.

     "Not the Yiga!"

     "Alright, alright, but you gotta let me—"

     "Not the Yiga!"