Thomas and Newt met when they were younger, (7 years old to be exact) they thought what they did was right, kiss each other on the cheek and hold hands. Thomas' parents thought it was the most adorable thing in the world, aside from Newts parents, well, not so much. Thomas never saw Newt after that, he never got to keep in touch, which broke his heart. Until, 11 years later, he saw him at last, at a very bad time, but the right time to save the love of his life, as he thought over the years. (Trigger warning)

Thomas never planned for his life to be the way it was. He never planned to be living on the streets, never planned on drugs, drink, death. He never planned on the journey to an early grave. Newt never planned for his life to be the way it was. He never planned to be living in an asylum, never planned on medication, solitude, insanity. He never planned on conversations with the voices in his head at night. Neither boy planned for their paths to intertwine with each other. (Everything belongs to James Dashner)

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.

❝ 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

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.]

dylie-dallie is typing This is the start of our love story.

For seventeen year old Newt, the number ten is everything. Ten steps. Ten times you must snap your fingers. Ten nods of your head. Ten. When he's put in a mental institution for his extreme OCD, depression and anxiety, he meets some unlikely friends. And possibly the boy he's been looking for his whole life. But can he trust him? (also on AO3 under ava_kay) WARNING: content may be TRIGGERING for some (deals with various mental illnesses) most characters from The Maze Runner by James Dashner, I do not own them. p.s.- if newt says anything that seems ignorant towards mental illnesses, please know I'm trying to portray a teenager who doesn't understand yet, and that he eventually will understand!

"You have until everything involving the Maze Runner is over. 5 months. If you can make Dylan O'Brien fall completely in love with you, you win. If you can't, I win." // Thomas Brodie-Sangster, "perfect, heartfelt Hollywood bad-boy," has the entire world falling at his feet. With an award-winning smile and awe-inspiring acting skills, Thomas knows he could get anything and everything with a snap of his fingers. Or so he thinks. Thomas makes a bet with a journalist of the LA Times, in which fellow castmate, Dylan O'Brien, is the prize. Before the two even meet, Thomas thinks he has already won the bet. There's only one problem. "There is not a single part of me, Thomas Brodie-Sangster, that likes you. In fact, I kind of hate you a lot." (Dylmas AU) Warning: Explicit Language (sorry I curse a lot oops)

❝ I'm Newt ❞ ❝ Hi I'm Newt-wait no-I'm-I'm Thomas. You're Newt. I'm Thomas. Hi,Newt. It's me,Thomas. Okay I think we're clear on who I am ❞ ❝ You're cute ❞ _________ In a utopian universe, soulmates exist. You would often feel your soulmates pain or emotion. To completely find your soulmate the half heart on your right wrist would become whole at the touch of your soulmate.

Everybody is born with a soulmate and heterochromia-your right is your natural eye color and your left is the color of your soulmates. When you meet your soulmate, your eyes match up. Fate has a twisted sense of humor.