Trees there were, old as trees can be, huge and grasping with hearts black as sin. Strange trees that some said walked in the night.

    Newt put his hands against the cool metal of the wall to steady himself as the lift jolted to life. His name. Newt. Floated in his thoughts.

    But it didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. Like someone had broken into his mind and spray-painted it there, a scribble of graffiti.

    Newt wasn’t his real name. Someone had stolen his real name from him. Like everything else. Everything. What made him … him.

    Tears leaked from his eyes as he squeezed them shut, trying to picture his mom or his dad or his sister. His best friend. His dog.

    Empty faces stared back, their eyes and noses and mouths scribbled from existence. Newt screamed, then stared upward. Waiting.

 Part 2: Newt - Waking Up In The Box 
New Twitter shorts exclusively written by James Dashner (via monsieurminho)


everyone I love has gone away

 requested by takeshii

                                I ’ m    t r y i n g    t o    h e l p    m y    f r i e n d s


there’s literally no point in teaching girls to be body positive if you only use men’s opinions for validation like “boys like girls with curves” nah get that the fuck out of here

Orange & March (flora portrait) // Hsiao Ron Cheng

Y  o u ’ r e   g o n n a   b e   g o o d   a t   t h i s .

posted on July 24th with 991 notes
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If he wants me broken,

       then I will have to be w h o l e