post-tst where teresa never leaked the cords to the right arm camp, so they had ample time to devise a plan to kill off WCKD for good without the minho-kidnapping-infected-newt-dead-teresa moments occurring.
so of course instead of thomas getting a moment of peace thomas gets a different letter by his bedside during the first week of safe haven stating exactly this;
Dear Thomas,
You’ve missed a fling or two,
making yourself look like a fool.
Kiss them in your arms before midnight,
or you’ll die without a chance to fight.
p.s. don’t tell anyone about this, okay? or their blood will be on your hands! ;D
which thomas translates to;
i can’t stand your nonexistent love life anymore its getting on my last nerves watching you mingle with people and not telling them how you truly feel and if you dont confess your feelings and kiss them by midnight tonight, you are sooo dead u stupid twink
he doesn’t believe it at first and goes up to a random person to ask if it was a prank and starts to tell them the details when a bullet misses his ear and imbeds itself into the ground besides the stranger. they give thomas a weird look, moving towards the bullet but thomas snatches it up and runs away.
so thomas is basically running around safe haven and kissing every person he can find ( and getting his ass beat because why is this random boy trying to kiss them ) and at some point he gives up because of course this idiot thinks he’d rather die than confess his real true feelings out of fear it wont be reciprocated
eventually, with a black eye and sprained ankle and bruises in muscles he cannot name, thomas makes his way over to jorge. he’s immediately concerned because who in their right mind would attack thomas, the embodiment of hope for humanity?
when he briefly feels thomas press a kiss against his lips before he’s shoving the boy backwards, with enough force that he stumbles into the table behind him and drops down hard, a pained groan escaping him — jorge is given his answer. “listen, hermano, thats really sweet you think i’m attractive and all, but i think you’re a little too young for me.”
thomas spits out a wad of blood. “i don’t think that at all.”
“…right. and you randomly kissed me why, exactly?” jorge helps thomas onto his feet, pushing away the random pieces of scrap metal to the side so the teen can sit down. a small compartment underneath opens up to showcase a loaded gun and a plethora of medical supplies, which jorge begins to tear apart to treat the open wounds on thomas’s face.
“well, i’m hoping to avoid death tonight, but i don’t think i will.” thomas hisses as antiseptic is wiped under the curve of his lips, but makes no effort to move away, completely drained.
jorge pauses. “death? from whom?”
“i don’t — “ thomas starts, but he pauses. remembers the ringing in his ears as the bullet went past him, and clams up. “nevermind. it’s nothing, i promise.”
“you let yourself get beat up for nothing?” jorge rolls his eyes. “if this is some sort of pleasure for you, i’m going to advise mary to become your personal therapist.”
“i said it’s nothing. it doesn’t matter what happens to me, i deserve it anyways.” thomas grumbles out, trying to push himself off the table.
“alright, alright! i overstepped, my bad.” he gently pushes thomas back onto the table, squeezing his shoulder. thomas stiffens, attempting to hide the pain show. why don’t you sit back down and i’ll go grab some gauze from the medical tents and i’ll send you off your way — to your demise, since you desire to meet your end this instant.”
thomas watches his back as jorge leaves his cabin, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. 20 minutes until midnight. he zones out, watching as the minutes tick by, tears streaming down his face as regret and anger surge within himself.
eight minutes before midnight, the door slams open, with an out of breath minho. newt barrels in behind him, sweat trickling down his face. teresa crashes right behind the two boys, numerous vials and liquid substances cradled in her arms. brenda pushes her way through with a rifle in her hand, covered from head-to-toe in misleanous weaponry. gally shoves them all inside, gripping the letter tightly in his fist.
“thomas!” they scream in unison. thomas doesn’t get a chance to blink, before they’re huddled around him, inspecting his face and pushing off his jacket and reeling him into a warm embrace.
i’ll finish this later or just post it to ao3 but everybody loves thomas au’s my beloved
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@jigsawbarbie doodle of werewolf minho picking up Thomas ,,, I just think he’s a little bigger than average bc he’s A7 ofc the leader of the pack has to be bigger,,,
Sneaking up behind him is a feat she doesn’t spend too much time trying to hide. Her small hands curl around his gaze, settling upon his face as she leans forward - her front flush against his back - to whisper in his ear. “Usually, I’m not one to say this kind of thing because it’s rather blasphemous, but I think you’ve been up here for far too long.” @vaillants
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they’re two boys in brooklyn but right now bucky’s not sure if anyone else exists or if the ground underneath their feet is real. music spills from the club they’d just left, and the vibrations of the base rumble through his feet straight to the top of his head. every hair is standing on end and he can’t tell if it’s because of the chill ( damn it steve forgot his jacket again, that idiot ) or if it’s because his arm keeps brushing against the blond’s, so lightly. god damn he’s thinking and it’s a prayer in his head, a silent plea sent to the heavens to give him some restraint, he’s already used up his last. dear god he thinks as their arms brush again, more this time but still nowhere near enough, dear god he’s praying for the strength not to pull steve into the side alley up ahead and push him against a wall ( if god never answered before, why would he answer now? )
out of sight, out of mind, and the world forgets about them for a moment as bucky pulls them both behind a building. the bricks turn away, the broken glass in the corner looking away so that the stars are their only witness. his breath is hot and broken, so unsure, only a hair’s width away from brushing his lips against steve’s. all those nights thinking of this, with steve at his side and his hair in disarray on his brow. steve,beautiful god damn steve, and now bucky’s leaning forward to close that distance. the feel of their lips joining together makes bucky’s head swim and he puts his hands on the sides of steve’s head to anchor him down. ❝ damn, ❞ he breathes against steve’s mouth, knowing full well just how damned he is now. there’s no going back now.
this is NOT what they do. he & bucky are best buds. FRIENDS. almost brothers. they’ve been practically inseparable since the beginning of time itself. they’re kindred spirits. where one goes, the other follows. they’d follow each other to the ends of the earth without a second thought. there’d be a lot of complaining & teasing, sure. but they’d do it anyway.
they do NOT kiss. ever. because it would ruin everything, wouldn’t it? that’s what steve tells himself in the dark hours of the night when he’s alone & craving the simplest, most innocent touch. because if they take things any further, they would cease to be friends. & steve would rather DIE than lose bucky as a friend
but clearly, bucky doesn’t feel the same.
the sudden turn down behind the building takes steve’s breath away. & the way bucky leans in close makes his heart practically beat right out of his chest. this isn’t happening, he thinks. but then it is.
it’s tender & sweet & everything he imagined it would be --- it feels so WRONG, but yet it feels so RIGHT.
“ buck, ” he murmurs when they breaks the kiss. leaning their foreheads together, he swallows thickly, whispering, “ we shouldn’t --- ” but then he’s leaning in again, craving the closeness they had just seconds before.
