He was blonde, tall and perfect. In his hand he gripped firmly to a long wooden stick, as if his life depended on it. Thomas looked back at this boy's face, but then gasped. His eyes were a glazed cloudy, unseen grey. The boy was blind. [will no longer be updating.]

Thomas is writing letters to Newt, who seems to be the other side of the coin he's stuck to. ( tmr highschool au feat. newtmas with a dash of bromantic minewt )

❝ What did they find? ❞ Thomas looks back at him, and there is anguish clearly written on his face. ❝ You have Alzheimer's, Newt. ❞ His breath catches in his throat. Alzheimer's. ❝ There's no cure for that, ❞ he says. ❝ No, ❞ the other whispers, and Newt is struck by just how old he looks-Thomas isn't young anymore, certainly, but now his face seems to have aged ten years. Determination, however, lights his features as he continues. ❝ It'll be okay, though. You're on medication right now. That-that'll slow it down. And I'll take care of you. I won't leave. We'll get through this together, just like the way it's always been. ❞ Newt is dying, and the worse part is that his mind's too fucked-up for him to realize it. ( tmr sickness au feat. newtmas and a lot of tissues ) PREVIOUSLY REMEMBER ME

Newt is a 17 year-old bookworm. Thomas is a 17 year-old who works in a library. When Newt meets Thomas while looking for books, the two seem to start seeing each other everywhere- school, stores, the park, pretty much everywhere. The two can't seem to get away from each other, which may not be such a bad thing...

It was the 17th of October, 2015, when Thomas was checked into River State Mental hospital. He liked to think that he was insane, and maybe he really was. But a certain blonde with brown eyes made him wish he'd never get his sanity back, because being mental meant staying with him forever if he desired. That same blonde he found himself falling for, and maybe having barely any sanity left in himself and having someone equally insane right beside him meant that their love could be wild and reckless and completely, well, mental. And maybe that wasn't all too bad. This story is fiction made up by me, any resemblance to real life events are unintentional. Newt and Thomas are not my own characters. They belong to James Dashner. Neither is Stiles Stilinski, who belongs to Jeff Davis.