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MADE IN HEAVEN.

[dollsbite]

౨ৎ NAVIGATION!

༉ ‧ ₊ ˚ . gabrielle. she/her. twenties. bisexual. jackie taylor defender. multifandom. living in my own head.ㅤ˖ ᱸ 𖥨 ⋆ ｡ ˚

⎯ LINKS: masterlist. byf. ko-fi. side blog.

CURRENT FANDOMS: 28 years later, yellowjackets, hannibal, invincible, superman '25, cod, peacemaker.

⎯ ꣑ৎ click byf for more information about requests!

; blog may contain mature works. interact at your own risk. only you are responsible for the media you consume.

[dollsbite]

would u still write 4 the my zombie lover n me??^^

so sorry for the late reply omg, but i do plan on writing something soon! writer's block has been kicking my butt lately, unfortunately )): i'm trying my best to power through it

[thepoetandtheproblem]

truly

[cannabike]

──🪷ᩖᩙᝪ᜔

[dollsbite]

hate when i see a starlight edit, and all the comments are just talking about the actress' appearance

[dollsbite]

I really dig Erik x zombie babe, I think it’s cute and fucked up and a lil sexy and I hope you do more 😋

tsym! as you can see, i'm a big fan of dynamics that are a lil strange and abnormal lmaoo. i'll definitely write more whenever the motivation hits me :3

[dollsbite]

where are all of the 28 years later fanfics? 💔 it's been like two weeks since i watched it and the brainrot is KILLING me

[dollsbite]

˖  ࣪ ☆ — 'MY ZOMBIE LOVER AND ME'

ERIK was fully aware of his shit luck.

Help wasn't coming. He knew that much. Once he and the rest of his team had stepped foot on the island, they were as good as dead. And, well, they were—he was the only man left standing, the last survivor within his crew. When he took this job, he never anticipated he'd watch a man get his head torn right out of his shoulders with the spine still intact. Nor did he ever believe he'd watch another get beaten to death with said head.

He was absolutely fucked, in every sense of the word.

Had it not been for that loud-mouthed clown, his close friend Felix, he would've never even dreamed of joining the Navy. Felix, rather matter-of-factly, smugly declaring in front of their mutual friends that he would never do anything meaningful with his life had been the catalyst. Erik had taken it as a personal challenge. And now here he was, on an uncharted island in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by...whatever these creatures were. Maybe life as a delivery driver wasn't so bad after all.

The young man spent days hiding within the foliage, his breaths shallow, and his eyes peeled for any movement that could betray his position. The vast greenery of Lindisfarne stretched out around him, barren of the comforts of civilization and eerily still, save for the occasional howl of the wind. Erik's thoughts often drifted to the careless banter and laughter he used to share with his teammates, a stark contrast to the silent terror that now filled his days. Was his fiancée — or rather now, ex-fiancée perhaps? — worried about him, or had she moved on? The thought of her with someone else stung like salt in an open wound.

The last thing he needed was this. One of those things had latched onto him, and it absolutely refused to let go. Like some obedient canine, it clung onto him like a leech. Perhaps he had some semblance of luck because it hadn't ripped out a chunk of his jugular. Not yet, anyway. This whole thing could go South within a blink of an eye.

"Easy now," the man huffed, gloved fingers wrapping around the creatures wrist. "I'm, fuck, I'm not going anywhere. Relax."

There was a tinge of amusement to his otherwise razor-edged tone. Was he losing his mind already? There was no way in hell that one of these things was actually friendly! Erik was so wrapped up in his mess of emotions that he couldn't make out the soft noise emitting from the being close by.

You were cooing. At him, of all people. God help him.

Sweat clung to his brow as he attempted to free himself once more, but to no avail. A parasite is what you are. If his elder sisters were here to witness this, then they would be snickering at him and taking pleasure in his misery. Typical.

Such a sweet thing, nuzzling your cheek against the crook of his neck. The neckline of his uniform had fallen just a bit, allowing the bare flesh to caress your bloodied skin. It was such a foreign sensation that it sent a wave of tumors down his spine. In some fucked up kind of way, it soothed him, pulling him in from the brink of insanity.

You're a strange one, aren't you? Even after he threatened to put a few bullets into your head, you were still holding tightly onto him like some long-lost lover would. Erik couldn't help but silently wonder if he reminded you of someone before, well, you become one with the virus.

With a deep sigh, the blond scrunched his nose tightly. So tight that his vision was blurred when he opened them once more. Better he died of an aching headache than be ripped apart; maybe that would be a mercy.

Slinging his gun over his shoulder, Erik sent a sideways glance at his newfound companion. The dehydration was certainly rotting at his brain because he reached a reluctant hand out, gently patting the infected's head. A strangled noise fell from your parted lips, and the sound made him cringe just a bit. He was expecting you to lunge at him, but instead, you simply melted into his embrace.

"... You know, I'm not exactly the type to do this on the first date," Erik smirked. Yeah... he was going insane. "But I guess if you aren't going to eat me, then... it's whatever."

Of course, you didn't respond (probably couldn't, even if you tried). The warmth of your body faded, and the man stumbled just a bit when your weight lifted off of him. Your lips were moving, yet not a word came out—just a few incoherent grunts. We'll have to work on that soon enough.

A shaky head tugged at his arm, sluggish feet scrapping against the long grasp. Bloodshot eyes were staring off into the distance, darting back to him from the corner of your eye, as if urging him to follow. Another grunt. Follow me.

Okay, Zombie Barbie/Ken. He'll bite.

With one last look behind him, the soldier braced himself as he allowed himself to be led away. Erik could only hope that you weren't leading him right into the mouths of your hungry buddies.

"Do you do this with every guy that crashes on the island?" He joked.

He received a grumble in response. No. Who does this man think you are?

afterthoughts ; rip erik fine shyt 🙏 u deserved head instead of getting urs ripped off. but it all seriousness, i absolutely adore this dynamic <3 i've been meaning to write something for this movie since i watched it on opening day. hope you enjoyed ^.^

[dollsbite]

i need to write more gay shit for real bc what am i doing rn??

[ballard96]

[sunflowermp4]

i think i wanna ride (ride!)

[dollsbite]

˖  ࣪ ☆ — ' EAT OF THE FLESH '

۫ ꣑ৎ househusband oc + gn! reader

tw: unknown consumption of a human, slight mentions of murder, cannibalism, brief mention of alcoholism, going overkill on pet names. no, obviously, don't kill your lover's co-workers irl.

If Elias' father was watching him now, then he'd surely be wallowing in the fiery pits of Hell. What kind of sissy would be spending his time slaving away in the kitchen? The words echoed in Elias' mind as he chopped carrots with a knife that was definitely not made for such delicate work. It was his mother's old kitchen knife, the one she used to threaten his father with when she was tired of his drunken rants.

The elder Hawthorne had gone and croaked a few years ago, surrounded by a mountain of half-empty beer bottles and filth. A fate that he had coming for a long, long time. Unlike his supposed "father," Elias had been with his mother until the end, holding tightly onto her hand as the sickness wracking her body finally consumed her whole. He thought he would die alone until an angel walked into his life.

His angel, his sweetheart, the very air that filled his lungs.

The brunet man reached up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, sharp, brown eyes glued meticulously to the sizzling pan on the stove. A pungent aroma of roasting meat and gourmet spices tickled his nose, a sensation just as warm and inviting as the flickering flame. All seemed so mundane, so straightforward that it was almost eye-rolling; watching paint dry would be much more exciting than watching a stay-at-home husband cook a meal.

There is more to something than meets the eye.

Elias hadn't taken a trip down to the local butcher shop that day, oh, no. His choice of meat was far more... exotic. Someone who the world would be much better off without. He'd found the man in an alleyway, the same one that his father used to frequent, looking for his next fix. The very waste of space that had been frequently harassing his lover at night had finally met his end. Elias had made sure of it.

Now, his flesh simmered in the pot, the rich, dark broth thickening with every bubble that popped. Elias had never felt more alive than he did at that moment, the thrill of his secret mixing with the adrenaline that still hummed in his veins. The knife felt so right in his hand, an extension of his will to protect and serve. His angel had no idea what was in store for dinner, and the thought of the look on your face was almost too delicious to bear.

Speaking of his angel, he heard the clicking of a lock, followed by the metallic clattering of keys clashing together. Though muffled, he could hear a few incoherent sounds, likely his spouse kicking off their shoes after a long day at work. Elias's heart skipped a beat, and he hastily wiped his hands on the apron that was already stained with a mix of sweat and the bodily fluids of his unwelcome dinner guest. He took a deep breath, the smell of the simmering stew doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Honey?" He heard the sweet voice of his angel, the one that had soothed his soul when he had been lost in the abyss of grief and anger. "You made dinner already? You shouldn't have."

What nonsense! Of course, he would. After all, they were slaving away all day just to provide for him. Even supporting Elias' decision to stay home and take on the role of homemaker. Most would scrunch their noses up in distaste at the thought of a man in the kitchen, but not his angel. You were different, accepting, loving. The perfect match for a creature like him.

"Anything for you, dear," He rasped, idly fixing the collar of his polo shirt. Those frayed nerves of his ebbed away as stepped out the the very room that had become his sanctuary, eyes lighting up at the sight of his spouse. A beautiful assortment of flowers was tucked carefully in one arm, a gentle smile gracing your lips at the sight of him in a rare apron, an anniversary gift from a few years ago.

The man's cheeks flushed a rosy hue, feeling just as heated as the stove behind him. He just gutted someone, and now, he was being met with such a thoughtful gift. It reminded him of what he could lose, what he needed to protect.

With a soft smile that hadn't quite reached his eyes, he graciously took the flowers into his grasp, "Oh, sweetheart, these are lovely!" He brought the bouquet to his nose, inhaling deeply as if the scent could purge the metallic stench of his grisly deed. "C'mon, let's eat. I know you must be starving."

What better way to quell your hunger than with a home-cooked meal? Besides, it's not like anyone would actually miss the scum he'd turned into a stew.

At least he'd be good for something.

[dollsbite]

saw thunderbolts* last week, and all i can think about is bob with a violet parr! inspired reader

[calledannabella]

stigmata

[dollsbite]

how do y'all write smut without wanting to die? 😭

[dollsbite]

husband!gaz thoughts... ⭑.ᐟ

husband! gaz that couldn't be more of a perfect match for you.

when you first announced your engagement, the snide comments under the guise of, "we're just worried about you!" nearly put a damper on what should be an otherwise happy moment. of course, in every family, there's always one relative that just has to to make their opinion known — no matter how unwanted it may be. in their eyes, how could such a relationship stay afloat? he was gone for months on end; how could you maintain a marriage with someone that was rarely home?

oh, they couldn't have been more wrong.

even while he was overseas, kyle did everything in his power to stay in touch with you. sending you letters in the mail, recording tender voice messages to your inbox, video calling you on his down time. he could be exhausted, his feet aching and his eyes drooping, the weight of a strenuous day heavy on his shoulders. yet, he always manages to make time for his sweetheart. and well, uh... let's just say he's fallen asleep on call more than once on occasion. not that you mind. he looks pretty cute when he's drifting off, even if he's likely drooling on his pillow.

there's no denying just how excited the two of you get when he's finally coming home. your presence is a soothing balm to his weary soul and he makes it known when he bursts through the front door of your home, tossing his duffle bag onto the floor and enveloping you into a tight bear hug. he's burying his face into the crook of your neck, savoring that warm smell of yours that he had been craving for weeks on end. you have to essentially pry him off of you to get him to sit at the dinner table to eat dinner.

i'd like to believe that garrick is such a green flag, a man that treats you so tenderly, that he would even make friends and relatives of yours absolutely jealous. even on the rare occasions when the two of you argue, he's always willing to communicate, sitting with you for hours just to solve the issue at hand. never, ever have you two gone to be angry with each other. he just wouldn't let it get to that point.

even with his hectic schedule, kyle never uses his job as an excuse to worm his way around helping around the house. there's no way in hell that he's going to watch you work yourself to the bone, not on his watch. what's the point in marriage if you aren't a team together? somehow, it always manages to surprise you when you come home after a particularly grueling day at work to find the whole house spotless, a delicious, home-cooked meal waiting for you. he'd move mountains for you if it meant getting to that pretty smile of yours. <3

[papa-rhys]

dudes will be like "women only date based on looks they wouldn't go for a guy who isn't conventionally attractive" meanwhile the women in question are thirsting over the ghoul from fallout bc he's cool and wears cowboy boots like looks literally have fuck all to do with it fellers