I just rlly want that one ship where we both get so fucking attached and they become our babies and we spam each other w/ cute little ideas and when they break up we sob or when they fight we pray bc our feels can’t take it but when they’re being rlly fucking cute w/ each other we cry a fucking ocean bc tOO MUCH TO HANDLE sigh just pls I’ll give you a gold sticker and free food bc free food is good sigh and gold stickers are pretty so yeah let’s plots bc plotting is gr9
“It was nothing, just a stupid nightmare,”
If you're brave enough, send me "Do it."
19. My muse just can’t keep their hands off of yours
[ Fallon sweats nervously ]
“Hey,” Fallon murmurs, setting down her bow and bag. Hunting had drained her, especially given the lack of any animals in the area. She was starting to think the two might have cleaned out the forests around them. The woman didn’t want to think about those things right now though. Instead she opted to approach the younger survivor, a hand slipping around the girl’s waist.
“How was your day?” she says as her tired arms cradle the other’s form. Now was not the time for stressful thoughts, wanting to indulge in her companion as opposed to face harsh realities.
cordycep-carrier replied to your post “super sad bc someone i plot/ship with deactivated :’( rip…”
They deactivated??? NUUU! Do you know why she did?
she was thinking of going semi-private when i spoke to her, guess life just took over :( she was an amazing joel, perf portrayal.
cordycep-carrier replied to your photo “Hahaha Topshop”
You Australians and your cooky names for shops. XD
Hahaha ;) well Topshop actually originated in good ol’ England soo we can’t take credit for that one.
Hahaha Topshop
I have wounds,
Only you can mend
cordycep-carrier replied to your post “um so 300 followers alright alright who paid u all”
Bitch plz you so metal you titanium.
liar u will pay 4 ur words
Are you fucking kidding me? How many times had she told Fallon not to go out on her own? Whatever anger she had against the elder was easily drowned out by fear. How long had it been now…close to a day? It was reaching sun down and she still wasn’t back yet. Something must have happened…Thousands of both rational and irrational fears flooded her mind, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d gathered her supplies and was out the door.
Where in the hell would she even begin looking though? Was she somewhere in the forest, or…?
“Only one way to find out…” After searching for nearly an hour, Ellie concluded she wasn’t in the forest. Without any snide remarks or jokes, she was already making her way down to the city, being there much quicker than anticipated.
Should she call out her name? Of course not, but…there was a fear inside her that was causing her to do stupid things, things she’d normally never do if she was cautious.
“Fallon?! Fallon!” What in the hell was making her voice quiver? Fuck, she knew, and she hated it. She was afraid—terrified, that Fallon could be hurt…or worse.
She hadn’t been watching her back, she hadn’t been careful. She had been arrogant, and she’d put far too little distance between herself and the infected woman. One small stumble and it was all over, the clicker had been upon her and she’d been lucky to escape with her life.
But had she? The bite mark on her arm said otherwise, it said the exact opposite. At first she’d simply sat there, frozen, the infected woman lying on top of her with Fallon’s knife lodged in her head. Then the swelling in her chest had happened, the tears had drenched her cheeks before she even knew it, and suddenly she was shaking, gut wrenching screams silently leaving her mouth. She’d pushed the infected corpse off of her and straddled it, taking the knife from it’s head and plunging it again and again until she had no strength in her body, and she collapsed to the side, all but beating her hands against the cold hard floor.
She had cried until perhaps all of her tears were expelled. She found herself on her feet, a degree of time having past of her simply staring at the bite mark, before she started her way out of the long abandoned chemist, her backpack hardheartedly strewn on her back, her hand limply carrying her revolver.
Outside a gust of cold air caught her hair and tugged at it, running cold hands under the cloth of her clothes and seemingly whistling through her form. Fallon felt translucent, bare, stark naked as she let the material of her jacket cover the bite mark, the bright redness of it far more painful then the physical sting. In the distance she heard the call of her name, wondering if it were the call of death.
“Times up, can’t believe you didn’t find me,”
