There’s something horrifyingly beautiful about Tess’s final moments. In the midst of the most dire chaos, as she waits for her death to come rushing past so she can blow it sky high and give cordyceps a big fuck you one last time, one of the infected stops. It looks at her, really looks. Her own mortality is personified in this infected. It’s death that’s looking at her, and it sees her. She looks her own death in the eye, and the suspense is so high as it approaches. But then, it doesn’t bite her throat out like we all expect it to.
It kisses her. What’s more, it kisses her gently. And I think it was a brilliant choice on the writers part, because it reminded me that the infected aren’t supposed to be evil. Sure, they’re scary as hell, but really, they���re just trying to survive. They’re connected to one another, they can feel each other from miles away. They seek out and want to be close to their own kind, just like the human survivors do. And when they do find each other, they kiss hello.
And after so long apart from a loved one, someone you know and trust with every instinct in your body, wouldn’t you want to kiss them too?
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Something really just. Nice that I noticed with the bros is that each of them has shown off some pretty interesting skills.
Raph is the one who fixes April’s ceiling fan for her, Mikey takes on half the work when making the new puppy rescue for Todd, and Leo is outright able to reprogram Shelldon’s AI (he messed up, but the fact he was able to do this at all is like??? Raph and Mikey were there too did they know Leo could do that because they were not surprised-)
Of course, this is nothing compared to Donnie’s own immense talent and skill for inventing and science in general, but it shows that the others are not incapable of assisting in his field if need be.
What I like to think with all of this is that they listened to and likely helped with Donnie’s various ideas growing up. Sure they may not get the specifics, and complex science talk goes right over their heads, but in a pinch they’d be able to get Donnie the right tool or set a wire back in place. It’s not as necessary now that Donnie is much more independent when he makes things, but it’s cute to imagine there being a time where the others had to pitch in and learned some stuff because of it.
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“I thought I was supposed to be the old person in this relationship,” Toji’s voice rings out in the previously quiet atmosphere, makes your head whip up in surprise. your concentration is broken from your prior engagement, hands slowing as you can’t help the smile that grows on your face at his teasing.
“Crocheting is for any and all ages,” you snark back at him, taking in how he watches the way your hands still move rhythmically—yarn over, pull through two loops, yarn over, pull through the last two, chain four, repeat. “You weren’t talking shit when I made you that sweater for your birthday.”
“Yeah I did, cause it itched like all hell.” He teases, makes you stick your tongue out at him playfully. he wore that sweater everywhere, to the point you damn near had to rip it off of him to put it in the wash. (the only times he didn’t wear it was when he knew he’d get it dirty while doing his…business ventures, which you didn’t mind. you’d rather he go a day without wearing it than googling how to wash blood out of a crocheted sweater that took you weeks to make.)
by the time you snap back to reality, Toji has already crossed the room, standing in front of where you sit cross legged in the comfy recliner he brought just for when you crocheted. it takes you aback by how quickly he moved, so silently, face suddenly warm as you look up at him from under your lashes. his eyes are dark, shadowed by his fringe, his hands in his pockets, his head cocked to the side. he looks devious.
“What are you cooking up in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask him, finally pausing your hands as you rest them in your lap. but Toji doesn’t let you, no. instead, he holds them back up in front of your face as he sinks to his knees in front of you, his smile wide and evil, pulling your legs from under you as he settles them on his shoulders.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he croons to you, kissing the inner part of your knee, eyes still glued to your burning face. “Just keep doing your little old lady hobby while I busy myself.” without warning, he pulls your sleep shorts to the side, grinning when he’s met with the bare beauty that is your pussy. you shudder at the air that breezes past you, try to focus on chaining when he squeezes at your thighs with warm, veiny hands.
“But I can’t focus on counting my stitches when your face is between my legs.” you pout to him, hoping it’ll sway him to eat you out and then let you continue your project. but he doesn’t put his mouth on you until you start again, rewards you with a single wet, smacking kiss where you need it most.
“Guess you’re gonna have to learn how to multitask, sweetheart.” Toji grins before he licks a long stripe from taint to clit, your hands hiccuping in their movements. you can feel his smile more than see it, and come to the realization that he’s an evil, evil man. (you have to recount your stitches more than once, and even after you’re fucked out from euphoria and bliss, you still think you’re missing a few.)
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