restarting my life


I’ve read quite a few horror tales in my time, and I’ve got a certain fondness for Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Lewis Stevenson. 

There’s something about man seeking to become his best self, only to unleash his inner demons and desires, that truly fascinates me.

I also like to think that Jekyll is not so innocent. He uses the identity of Hyde as an excuse for his immoral behaviours so not to feel any consequential guilt.

“If it wasn’t me in control, it’s not my fault.”

Jekyll is a truly evil character, and his potion is just a ploy to satiate his needs for violence and chaos.


Get to know me meme: [1/10] musical artists » Tokio Hotel

We are like a family, we’re like brothers, and we know each other very well. All our habits and everything, and that’s maybe the most important thing.

I use to think , wow if I could go back in time and change things. If I could restart my whole life. If I could run away start fresh. Honestly that really isnt the right answer. Whatever the problem is or whatever your lacking, face it. The only real change comes from inside.

i feel so frustrated. 

I have this unbelievably strong desire to just leave. To book a flight & go. Meet new people, make new friends, have no plans, take a new path & just restart. I love my life & I love my friends, but I feel like some serious change. 

I’ve realised I feel really lonely & I’ve taken a lot of action to try to work through that with little return. It’s hard when you know yourself really well & know what you like & what fulfils you in life because then when you feel lonely there’s not much more you can do about it. I’ve always been patient, understanding & not super bothered by not having someone, but I’m reaching a point where I just want to find someone to settle down with & share my life with. 

Frustrated is definitely the right word for my underlying energy of late. 

In saying all that it’s been such an awesome last few months. I’ve met a number of new people & made some great new connections. I’ve had some awesome job experiences & opportunities & can’t wait to see where they take me. I’m in love with creating content, having fun behind the camera & doing something that allows me to completely give in to my creativity & express my thoughts.  

Also, still incredibly annoyed by people’s (lack of) communication in this day & age. If you haven’t got the decency or respect to f*kn tell me your busy or don’t wanna talk then don’t think I’m gonna go wasting my time on you or holding up my plans for you honey. Oh & don’t you dare think ignoring messages is simply making me want you more, it’s only making me want to drop kick you off a bridge. 

sometimes i wish i could restart my life and do everything over the ‘right way’ but life doesn’t work that way so i just have to deal with what i have i guess………

If I had another restart on my life, I dare say that I would find you sooner. I dare say that I would not be as late as I was.
—  Lukas W. // Restart
  • Old friend: hey, it's been a while! how've you been?
  • Me: oh, you know, nothing special. my former friends created a cult and abandoned me to a toxic, abusive relationship, all while i was beginning to discover that i'm trans, and then i was depressed and suicidal for a while, and then i moved to a completely different state and now i'm restarting my college life over, basically
  • Old friend: ...damn...
  • Me: yeah pretty much
The Hunt (Ch. 4)

Info: TMR & OUAT | Newt | Word Count: 3,223 | Ch. 4
Summary: At Glader Prep, a group of boys called the Lost Boys have all the girls of the school wrapped around their fingers. They keep a watchful eye over every student, until a new girl moves to town. Intrigued, the Lost Boys begin the hunt for her… Until they realize they might just be her prey instead.

Originally posted by mindent-elbasztam

Originally posted by projectwckd

[ Previous (Ch. 3) ]

Monday morning. You can do this. It’d only take sharply winged eyeliner and one of my best outfits to get me through the day, right? By the time I sat down in my first class, I had already realized how wrong of me it was to assume so. I entered history class with Peter and his friends close at my heel, and as soon as I sat down, they surrounded me. Peter sat behind me, the mysterious blond boy in the hood on my left, and another wide-eyed, curly-haired brunette boy on my right. Coincidental? Probably not. I inwardly groaned, realizing Peter and I had not gotten off on the right foot at the game, and Newt had probably already told him about our argument. The last thing I needed was to be the object of Peter’s wrath. While I wasn’t worried for myself, the idea of being surrounded by him and his friends annoyed me to no end. Switching schools had been no accident – I moved because I needed to restart my life in a new environment with new people; my old life had grown suffocating. The last thing I needed was to delve into this new world of drama. Yet, drama followed me regardless.

“Morning, (Y/N),” chirped Peter with a dangerous sense of happiness.

“Hello Peter,” I called back without turning around, waving my hand by my head at him. I didn’t expect him to lunge forward speedily and take my hand into his. I turned around sharply, surprised by this, but Peter’s forest green eyes were fixated on mine with determination.

He held onto my hand with a surprisingly soft touch. His thumb grazed my knuckles teasingly and my breath hitched. He smiled slightly and spoke finally in a low voice only for my ears, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved at the game last night. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His grip on my hand loosened, but did not withdraw. He watched me intently, waiting for my reaction.

Pulling myself out of my astonished stupor, I drew myself to full height and patted his hand amiably. “I don’t scare easily,” I replied simply, before drawing my hands away and turning back around.

Peter leaned forward, bringing his mouth an inch from my ear, brushing it faintly against my curls. “I find it hard not to take that as a challenge,” he whispered, his raspy voice vibrating against my ear, sending chills up my neck.

I turned my face slightly towards his, yet he was so close to me that my mouth was mere inches away from his when I hardened my voice, “It’s not.” I turned to look at him in the eyes. “You could just make a human attempt at friendship, as is normally done.”

Peter groaned and then grinned wickedly, “But normal is soo boring, love. Why don’t instead,” a mischievous glint flashed in his eyes, “we play a game?”

I raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

Peter nodded. “A game. I am willing to be friendly as long as you promise to keep a secret.”

I crossed my arms skeptically. “And what’s the secret?”

Peter leaned in closer. “You’ve gotta come closer, love, so no one overhears.” I roll my eyes and stay put, refusing to play along. He compensated by bringing his cheek next to mine, the hair above his ear tickling me as it danced along my temple. “A friend of mine rather fancies you, but is just too shy to admit it. Promise me you’ll be kind to him, no matter what, so as not to hurt his feelings.”

I drew back suddenly, expecting this to be a joke. Why did I even bother listening to him? I couldn’t trust anything that came out of his mouth. Yet, my heart couldn’t help but skip a beat instinctively, in hope… “Who is it?” I burst out breathlessly.

Peter smirked. “I think you already know. Who else? Newt.

My throat tightened, and my stomach turned. “I highly doubt that,” I replied emotionlessly.

Peter wagged a finger at me. “Uh uh. I told you this in confidence, why would I lie? I’m many things,” he smiled smugly, “but I’m not a liar. Now if you can keep this secret, and not judge him so harshly, I can keep you out of the net of the rest of the Lost Boys, namely myself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever keeps me you out of my hair.” I was beginning to turn away before I added in a whisper, “I still don’t believe you, but I’m okay with keeping a fake secret, whoever it benefits.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, and though I tried to focus on the lecture ahead of me, I couldn’t help but roll Peter’s words over in my mind. Promise me you’ll be kind to him… Newt. I didn’t trust Peter, and this could turn out to be one big practical joke on me. Yet, I found myself willing myself for it to be true, even though I hadn’t forgiven either Newt or Peter for their erratic and rude behavior. Lydia was right. I should’ve just avoided them from the start. What have I gotten myself into?


“If you see her, just apologize,” Minho insisted in an worn out tone. Newt had been mulling over his fight with (Y/N) all morning, and Minho feared he would never hear the end of it.

Newt’s head jerked irritably. “Why should I? You know that she started it first, with her judgy comments and looks.” Newt slammed his locker with excessive force and glared at Minho. “You know, who does she think she is anyway?” he burst out suddenly.

Minho gaped at the usually fairly pleasant British boy in disbelief. “Ooookay, don’t apologize then. But you should probably avoid her altogether.”

Newt frowned, as they approached their drama classroom. “Can’t. We have to act together, remember? I swear if she actually tries to practice today…”

Minho shook his head earnestly, as he struggled to convince Newt to change his mind about (Y/N). “Don’t blow off the play, man. Take this as a chance to be nice to her and make her feel welcome again.”

Newt smirked darkly, a better plan coming to mind. “Actually, I’ve got something else in mind. I’m not losing that bet to Peter, but there’s no way in bloody hell I’m going to change myself just for some girl who doesn’t like me as I am.”

Minho and Newt both sat down in their seats next to each other, but Minho leaned over and whispered fervently. “Just don’t be a shuck-face to her, okay, Newt? She actually seems like a really nice girl.”

Newt grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he remarked wickedly, aware Minho understood his true meaning. His smile was cut off short as soon as (Y/N) walked into the classroom. Today her green top was bringing out the color of her eyes, which looked a deeper shade of green than ever today. Her hair was lazily curling and flowing around her, framing her delicate body. She looked meaner and yet more striking than ever. Newt suddenly worried that she would still be upset with him, and wouldn’t speak to him at all. For some reason, he hated the idea of that.

But when she sat down, she picked the seat behind Newt again, even though there were plenty of other open seats left. Maybe it was her way of trying to make friends again, or maybe the opposite, to show she wouldn’t back down? Newt shook his head, trying to make sense of his cluttered thoughts. He was absentmindedly shaking himself free of them when he heard his name. He wheeled around in his seat slowly. (Y/N) looked up at him when he turned to her, but he saw that her eyes were softer than before. Don’t think she’s mad anymore, he thought cheerfully, despite himself.

“(Y/N),” Newt uttered the name in a low, husky voice, unable to keep himself from softening towards you.

“Yes?” (Y/N) asked lightly.

Newt blinked at her for a second. “You called my name first.”

(Y/N) looked at him dubiously. “No, I, uh, didn’t.” Shit. Did I just imagine her calling my name? Newt thought worriedly. A confused look covered his face. (Y/N) noticed, so she desperately changed the subject, laughing inwardly at the thought that perhaps Newt was just trying to find a way to talk to her. “But, um, are we still practicing our lines today?”

Newt shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Not unless you’ve found better company,” he said quietly.

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with hurt while Newt wasn’t looking. “Erm, no, but if you don’t want to –”

Newt cut her off by smiling charmingly, drawing himself to full height. “Why wouldn’t I want to seize an opportunity to spend time with the lovely (Y/N)?” he asked rhetorically, though (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice a hint of sardonicism in his tone.

(Y/N) let out a disbelieving puff of air, looking at the blond boy testily. “You weren’t being so affectionate last night.”

Newt raised his eyebrows. “Actually love,” he corrected. “I believe you were the one who started it,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

(Y/N) leaned forward, trying to lower her voice so no one would hear. “Only because you give me a reason to question you, over and over again.”

Newt glared. “You don’t even know me.” He forced himself to soften his expression again, though. He had to keep reminding himself of his bet with Peter… if (Y/N) hated him, it would be like handing her straight over to Peter. He couldn’t have that. “Perhaps you should spend more time with me to actually get to know me. Come over, tonight, and have dinner with me.”

(Y/N) stared at the boy for a second, taken aback. Did he just ask her out to dinner? Of course, it was only because they had to act together… “Uh yeah, sure, what time?”

“Six o’clock. We can practice before and then eat. If you give me your number I’ll text you my address.”

(Y/N) nodded and pried the pencil Newt was twirling subconsciously in his hand, surprising him with her boldness yet again. “You’re welcome,” he joked laughingly.

Scrawling her number on a piece of paper and tearing it out before handing it to Newt, (Y/N) grinned and jested back, “And you’re welcome, too.”

Newt couldn’t hold back a giggle at that, and (Y/N) looked at him for the first time with an appreciation of how cute he could be. His little laugh was so soft compared to his often harsh words, and his voice was made more husky and mature by his British accent. Newt was a conundrum, no doubt, but she knew there was so much more to learn about him than he seemed to want to let on. Suddenly, she found herself anticipating dinner more than she expected.


“So tell me, what is the story behind the ‘Lost Boys’?” I popped a grape in my mouth and looked across the lunch table at Lydia curiously.

The strawberry blond pursed her lips, as if wondering where to begin. “It all started with Peter. His friends gave him the nickname “Peter Pan” a few years back due to his… ah… liberal tendencies. He gained the admiration of boys and infamy among girls; his reputation precedes him, and yet, every girl wants to be with him, and every boy wants to be him.”

I was unsurprised with Peter’s loose behavior. He certainly seemed like someone who held nothing back; one would think, though, that eventually he would be old news. I wondered how it were possible for someone like him to not be collectively despised by everyone around him. Then I remembered how intimidating he had been at the game the night before… No one had ever frightened me so. I snorted scornfully at the thought that, of course, someone like Peter had to rely on fear to control everyone around him. I shifted thoughtfully, “So where do all his friends come into this?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Friends? Other than the handful of ‘friends’ he has, the rest can all safely be called ‘followers’, like Felix and Baelfire. But of his friends, there are none left untainted. Gally is the school bully; while Peter terrorizes girls, Gally terrorizes boys, but not in that sense. Thomas is often the leader of all Lost Boys operations, so while Peter can claim to have slept with almost every girl he lays eyes on, Thomas can say he was the mastermind behind it all. Though, don’t get me wrong, he’s been with his fair share of girls, and even tried to play me.”

My eyes widened. “Really, you? What happened?”

The other girl seemed annoyed just thinking about it. “He had chased me for years, and when I finally fell for him, he didn’t care anymore. He just enjoyed the chase, and nothing else.”

I nodded, realization dawning on me. “No wonder you were particularly sassy to him. I noticed.” I winked and smiled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can genuinely say that I think your comments successfully get to him.”

Lydia flashed a victorious smile with her red lips. “That’s the hope.”

I laughed, but then remembered there was more I wanted to know. “So, uh,” I started shyly. “So what about Newt? What’s his story?”

Lydia paused thoughtfully. “As far as the Lost Boys go, he is the most agreeable. But he’s damaged goods – a few years ago, his parents got divorced, and he was dragged through the court and was put through hell for many, many months. He came out of the trials a changed man. That was when he met Peter. For that following year, he was just as infamous as Peter. He hurt a lot of people, lost a lot of friends. I can’t say that I was particularly forgiving, because after the whole Thomas thing, I couldn’t see how Newt could be any of their friends anymore. But the one person that stuck through his side was Minho. Minho refuses to identify himself as a Lost Boy; he’s different. And if it weren’t for his loyalty and friendship, I fear Newt would have ended up in a much worse place than he actually was in. But this year things have been quiet; Peter has taken the spotlight and Newt has slowly drawn into himself again. I don’t think he will ever be the same again, though.”

I swallowed slowly. I hadn’t touched my food once while Lydia spoke, entranced. I wonder why his parents were divorced? Why was it so messy? I was no stranger to parent problems; I itched to ask Lydia more about Newt, but remembering what he was like, I figured he probably talked to no one about it anyway. I didn’t speak to anyone about what I went through with my parents. It made me uneasy, though, thinking about all the things Newt did in his angst and grief. I wonder what he was like. I suddenly felt like there were so many versions of Newt I hadn’t met, and I wished I knew what they all were like. The more I thought about him, the more intrigued I became. Perhaps dinner will spark meaningful conversation between the two of us, I hoped.


I was running around the house half-dressed and in a frenzy, my hair still damp from my shower and my clothes strewn across my bedroom floor. I knelt on the floor and threw aside clothes frantically in order to find something nice to wear. My eyes fell on a plain, silky white dress that would hopefully look casual but pretty. I quickly threw it on, ducked into a gold necklace with a pink stone pendant, and started on my makeup. I kept it simple, with foundation, a tinge of blush, mascara, and a rosy lipstick to finish it. I didn’t want to seem like I tried too much; even though in reality, I probably was overthinking every little thing. I hurriedly flung my bag over my shoulder, stuffing my script, phone, and keys into it before finally running out of the house and towards my car.

As soon as I turned on my car, my phone rang. I checked it and saw it was Teresa, my best friend. I smiled and picked up. “Teresa! Nice timing, I just started driving.”

I could hear my friend’s light, tinkling laugh over the phone. “Ooh, on your date with this mysterious Newt?”

“It’s not a date!” I protested loudly, glad she couldn’t she the reddening of my cheeks.

She laughed at me, clearly not believing a word, no matter what the truth. “Mm-hmm, alright. Well if he’s an ass to you today again, I’m coming right over to deal with him myself, alright?”

I smiled at her sweetness. “I wish you could come over anyway.”

She paused for a second. “Me too. I’ve missed you since you’ve left.”

I sighed wistfully. “I’ve missed you too. But I really needed to get away from that place, you know? And anyway, Glader Prep isn’t so bad. And I’ve started to make friends, I guess. I just don’t really know anyone here, so it’s hard.”

Teresa understood. “I know. Well then, that’s why Newt’s gonna fall in love with you and introduce you to all his friends and all will be well, right?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you just said that. Truthfully, I think all his friends are kind of jerks to everyone, but… I dunno why, I actually like them, in spite of it all.”

“You and bad boys,” Teresa said warningly. “It’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“I dunno why, I can’t help it!” I insisted. “But don’t worry, I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful,” I added smilingly.

I pulled up into Newt’s street and saw… Only one mansion. My jaw dropped. “Umm…” I said nervously, checking the address Newt texted me again. “I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place but…” I muttered to myself.

Teresa overheard. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

I bit my lip. “I think Newt literally lives in a mansion. Did not see that coming.”

Teresa burst out laughing. “How am I not surprised though? He dresses nice, has a British accent, is well-mannered - well, most of the time - I mean come on, it makes total sense!”

I groaned. “No, there’s no way I’m going in there. I’ll just call and cancel.” Too late. The gate buzzed and opened for me. Great, he must have seen me. I nervously pulled up on what seemed like a mile-long driveway, past elegantly engraved fountains and stallion statues and trimly cut lush green bushes until finally reaching the front of his house, where I parked my car.

“Okay, I gotta go now, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I said to my friend.

“Okay, but tell me everything afterwards!” I could practically see Teresa jumping up and down excitedly. I smiled at that, nerves calmed a bit, and exited my car to walk up to his house.

[ Next (Ch. 5) ]

I got the house I looked at this morning. I move in a week. A huge weight has been lifted and I can’t wait to restart my life and maybe do it right this time