I'm recycling headcanons but that's okay dw about it
illiterate Minho, you can't fucking stop me
during his brainwashing sequence, someone gets the genius idea to erase his English comprehension
because he was reading the EXIT signs and nearly succeeding in escaping
the brainwash actually causes a mild problem, and for about two weeks, he loses his ability to understand English completely and says nothing but total gibberish
when that gets tweaked, they then have to meticulously go through and erase every single memory he has of himself reading
because he was going insane trying to remember what those letters floating in his head meant
which means erasing the memory of Thomas piecing the Maze code together
which leads to erasing his memory of the Glade completely
he's not a blood bag anymore; they don't need to prey on his loyalty to the Gladers for his fear and enzymes
the less sentimental he is, the better
he used to write everything he knew about the Gladers onto his notepad, one of the few items they let him keep in his cell.
Just in case he ever forgot
the color of Newt's eyes when it caught the sunlight, the way Alby's face seemed three years younger when he smiled, Chuck's high-pitched squeak of a laugh, the way Thomas' lips felt on his
just for the cruel humor of it, the scientists let him keep his notepad
it's not like he can read it anyway
in Safe Haven, Thomas takes on the difficult job of teaching him how to read again
it takes about a year and a half to actually start learning because of how much WCKD baggage Minho has to heal from first
much to his dismay, it's the new cause of his and Thomas' arguments
at least, he would be dismayed. But getting sad was never his strong suit
when Minho feels anything, it always converts to anger
forget nightmares of scalpels and white-hot brands shaped like claws. When Minho closes his eyes, he sees fuckin' runes floating around
"I don't fucking know these fucking, goddamn letters, and I'm fucking sick of it! Fuck this! Fuck you!" he snaps, shoving the desk so hard the papers go flying. A pencil lodges itself into the soft wood pole holding up the tent.
"Minho, you're getting it! You know the alphabet, that's a massive milestone!"
"I'm not a fucking kid! Oh, I know the fucking alphabet, shit you apparently learn when you're a toddler. Except I remember fuckall from when I was a toddler because I had my brain leaking out of my skull for a year. Glad you made it out okay, WCKD's little golden boy."
Tears spring to Thomas' eyes on that last remark. "That's not fair and you know it."
"I'm not a fucking kid!" Minho yells back, too angry to be guilty. "I'm not a fucking- I'm not a test subject, Thomas!"
"Really? Because it really feels like you're just trying to see if a loser like me can still learn this baby bullshit. Just make a graph that says I failed or something and show it to those psychiatrists I know you still talk to. I'm done with this."
Thomas is too stunned to say anything back. Minho thinks he's like WCKD? Just another doctor to cut him open and study him?
Minho storms out of the tent with Thomas yelling at him to never come back
Jorge coaxes Minho into his tent after his particularly harsh argument with Thomas
and teaches him curse words
"These were your Glader curses," Jorge murmurs gently, scribbling shank onto a piece of paper. His handwriting is worse than Thomas' by a mile, and better than Minho's by ten.
"I don't wanna know that shit."
"Shit," Jorge repeats, writing the word as he does. "This is how you spell it."
"That letter makes an "ss" noise. Not a "shh" noise."
"Haven't gotten there with Thomas yet?" Jorge asks kindly.
Minho scowls at him. "I know my fucking alphabet. I know what sound that letter makes."
Well, being angry was always Minho's strong suit.
what better to learn than angry words?
Jorge plays him like a fiddle. He should be mad, but he's too interested to care
"This is how you write 'Fuckhead.' You can write this on a paper, add a little tape on the top, and stick it on Frypan's back the next time he puts you on dishwashing duty."
"How about 'dickface', do you think you can spell that without me? What letters do you think should be there?"
when Minho's about to leave, he suddenly dawdles
looks... embarrassed, almost
it's a good look on him, Jorge thinks
Ever since Thomas started trying to teach him how to read, he's been walking about with a permanent scowl
So quietly that Jorge almost misses it, Minho asks, "How do you write 'I'm sorry'?"
and Jorge sits down patiently at his desk
he teaches him "I love you" too
Minho didn't ask to be taught that, but he also didn't leave or say something snarky when Jorge wrote it and had him practice
Thomas gets a crudely written apology letter with some doodles on the side
for someone who spent three years sketching mazes, Minho really can't draw for shit
but he can write "I'm sorry. I love you."
Thomas' apology letter back is a revision of his curriculum
Minho can't read a single word on the list and just stares blankly
"I liked Jorge's idea of teaching you words you want to know," Thomas mumbles into the crook of Minho's shoulder as he cuddles him from behind
Minho just drinks in the feeling of Thomas' arms around him
sleeping alone is awful and cold
how he thought he could ever survive without Thomas' arms around him, he doesn't know
he spells the words "stupid fucking dumbass" in his mind
they look wrong in his head until he remembers the B in "dumbass"
"I learned when two letters make one sound," he says proudly. "They're called digraphs."
then immediately realizes he sounds like a little kid, craving Thomas' approval
but Thomas' excited gasp and kiss to the back of his neck washes away whatever regret he might've had
"There's an H in your name," Minho mumbles as he slips into sleep in Thomas' warm embrace
"There's two S's in 'kiss,'" Thomas whispers to him.
snowghoul
annaxmalina
vaporwave
andulkaphoto
blakekathryn
yousharknotpass
