Chaotic Good

Bloody Hell, You Have Morning Breath

A/N: These chapter titles are getting funnier and funnier

He stumbled over his own feet, nearly making the contents of the paper bag fly everywhere. "Woah!" Newt's hand shot out to clasp his shoulder, and Thomas' head became dizzy with the abrupt change of direction. He lightly swayed on his feet before regaining his balance, turning his head to face his saviour. "Thanks, Newt."

Newt sighed and retracted his hand from Thomas' shoulder. "You can go fight an army of trained agents and Grievers, but when I look away for a second, you're gonna give yourself some bloody brain damage." He didn't really look that annoyed, though. Just fond... and more than a little exasperated. Huh. Thomas was pretty sure Newt was becoming more and more like a mom—or as the Brit called it, a mum—every day.

Thomas sent him a cheeky grin before shouldering the bag. Newt's eyes followed it, eyebrows furrowed. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh, this?" he asked nonchalantly, his tone light, before pausing for a dramatic second, looking at Newt dead in the eye. "Makeup."

Newt blinked. "Makeup?"

He nodded. "Makeup."

The blond looked slightly alarmed. "And what are you gonna to do with this... makeup?"

"I'm going to be a makeup artist," he managed to say with a straight face.

Both Newt's eyebrows were raised. "Really?" he said dubiously.

Thomas lasted all of two seconds before snorting. "Nah, not really. The makeup is to cover up our tattoos, since the legal age to get them is 18."

Newt's hand absentmindedly raised to rub his nape. "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna be prancin' around with 'Property of W.C.K.D.' tattooed on my neck where anyone could see it."

"I don't know how the FBI missed that, to be honest," he replied, setting the paper bag on the counter before riffling through it. "It's not like we were trying to hide it."

Newt hummed his agreement before peering into the bag. "Tommy," he said after a moment, plucking a tube of skin-coloured liquid out of the bag. "You do know how to use all this klunk, right?"

Dead silence. Newt slowly set the tube on the counter, a loud clacking noise filling the room.

He slowly turned towards Thomas, eyes wide. A look of horror dawned on both of their faces. "Oh, no," Thomas whispered. "We're screwed."

"We are, but," Newt face scrunched up. "Is there anybody who could teach us how to use makeup?"

"Not that I know of..." Thomas trailed off before his eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah, we have YouTube!" He started looking around the room before spotting a standard laptop charging on top of a coffee table. "Aha!" He walked towards it, Newt trailing behind him.

"What's," Newt hesitated, rolling the word in his mouth. "YouTube?" They both sat on the floor in front of the table, shoulders brushing.

"It's this kind of platform where people post videos of them doing stuff online for other people to watch," Thomas explained quickly, turning on the device. At Newt's face, he reassured, "It's kind of confusing, but it'll make more sense once you see it."

Newt watched in fascination as Thomas typed in the word 'YouTube' on the computer, before pressing a bunch of keys. The room was filled with the clicking from the keyboard. "Woah," Newt breathed as a bunch of links popped up on the screen. Thomas moved the mouse around a bit before typing in the words 'how to cover up tattoo with makeup'. After a second of hesitation, he added the words 'for beginners'.