#pagesfrayed

[maiawrites]

//Broken Promises//

You promised!

You fucking promised me!

You told me you weren't like the rest...

You said you'd be careful, you'd do your best ...

at least for me...

Look I know you're not perfect, okay.... But fuck, what were you thinking? What the fuck were you even feeling? God damn!

Fuck you for making me feel this way, fuck you for making me think this was all my fault, for putting all of the fucking blame on me...

all of this time...

Why did you go and make me fall for you... I was being so careful, keeping you at arms length... You know I figured we were better off as friends...I didn't want to lose you and mess up our friendship, confessing...lest my feelings get in the way...., I should've known better...

You're exactly the type, I was warned against...

I didn't listen, I thought I knew better, thought I could save you... and maybe you'd save me a little bit too?....

Why the fuck didn't I know any better??... God damn, I feel so fucking stupid!

Against my better judgement I gave you all of me ... you're all the best parts of me, you know... the one I tell all of my secrets to, my go to one for everything ... my guiding light..and I thought it be best if I kept my fucking demons to myself ...you had your scars and I had mine too.. I thought it be best, if I kept you far away...thinking at least I could save you from my all of my ugly, keep you safe from them a little bit longer, no you just had to dig, had to try and see the good in me, opening me wide up and making me feel things.. fuckkkk... you were the one I was dreaming about....

fuck you for making me care about you, if  this was your intent all along...., to make me fall for you, to watch me break, while you just stand there watching me drown in my own love, alone.. then you succeeded.

copyright - @ Maysunwrites

[jasperwatchinga]

[...] HELENA RODRIGUEZ, @pagesfrayed

helena is without a doubt jasper’s best example of the word friend. he is able to speak freely with helena, share thoughts he would scarcely speak out loud to another living soul, and feels the most intimate human connection he knows with her. even in verses or scenarios where jas isn’t publicly out as gay, there are no secrets between he and his queen of the macabre bestie. she knows jasper better than his own twin brother and there is next to nothing he would keep from her. he admires her warmth and her capacity for love and understanding, worries about her open heart frequently. helena, to jasper, represents hope for humanity and unconditional love. make no mistake, he would fully stab you for her without the slightest hesitation. 🔪

[guiltskate]

carter & helena.   @pagesfrayed sent  📸 for pictures carter has / has taken of helena ( accepting selectively ).   temp.

[publiclyabsent-moved]

           she’d worn the flower crown to the library in a rare moment of fragile confidence. but she couldn’t, anymore. she felt awkward, like too many eyes were on her & even if they weren’t, she just was uncomfortable. red isn’t her color. while reshelving books, she spots someone who looks like she might actually have both the confidence & wherewithal to wear the headpiece. a gentle tap on the shoulder, & the flower crown is held out. “um ... h-hi -- would ... would you. like th-this? it would ... match, um. match you. & i -- i c-can’t wear it. so.”

@pagesfrayed​.   meme.

[clubfought]

@pagesfrayed​  ,  you’re turning heads.

                   ‘ me? nah, ’ from the comfort of his sunglasses, michael can look up around the boardwalk, watching as people walk past. maybe they did look at him as he leaned against the railing beside helena. the eldest emerson has a fair understanding that he isn’t ugly. many have time him he was going to get far on his looks alone, but still, he’s stayed humble. or, humble enough to know that’s not how the world works. ‘ if they’re looking at me, it’s because i’m new around here. that’s all, ’ pushing shades up into his curls, ocean eyes move to the other with a small smile. ‘ either way, i’m ignoring it, ’

[morbidgrl]

pagesfrayed asked: “ the chain was already off the gate, i’d say we’re fine.”

❝That's only if the grave keeper doesn't catch us. And I'm not wearing the right shoes to be running from him tonight.❞

[coeurfuck]

@pagesfrayed​​     ;     plotted !

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊  𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓,  wondering  if  it  was  the  best  of  ideas  to  invite  her  back  here.  not  like  it  mattered,  she  already  knew  where  he  lived  and  promised  to  show  up  one  way  or  another.  but  he  takes  his  time  in  making  his  way  over  to  the  door,  bare  feet  moving  against  hardwood  slowly  before  he  stops  short  of.  he  could  always  pretend  he  wasn’t  home,  but  then  again,  he  had  told  her  he  would  be  here  and  it  was  best  to  get  it  out  of  the  way  now  lest  it  fester  into  something  more.  there’s  a  loud  click  of  the  deadbolt  as  he  unlocks  the  door,  before  pulling  it  opening  with  a  sharp  tug.  eyes  drift  down  to  the  girl  on  the  step  below,  head  tilting  back  slightly  as  gaze  shifts  up  and  down  her  frame.     “   hey.   ”     he  mutters  lightly,  hand  resting  on  the  side  of  the  door  and  lingering.  a  silence  falls  between  them  before  lips  press  together,  shifting  back  some  as  he  lets  go  of  the  door  completely.     “   do  you  want  to,  uh  ....  come  in  ?   ”

[intervieweird]

@n0t-ohfuckingkay​

It’s one of those nights when Daniel misses Old New York: when the taxi drivers knew 8th and 42nd from the back of their ass-crack, and Modigliani’s is one of the last bars not to give a fuck about Bloomberg’s goddamn smoking laws.

Daniel’s got three fingers of top-shelf bourbon sitting untouched in a lowball glass where he’s settled into his booth - it’s got good, Italian leather, but even now it cracks along the seam between his shoulder blades. Not everything wears its age as well as a vampire. 

Condensation sweats into the coaster beneath the smooth crystal glass, but it’s decades past when Daniel could hold back his hauntings with a stiff drink. This spirit may be going to waste, but damn, the holy ghost is with him. Besides, the bartender’s tip is generous, and Daniel figures he’s doing them a favor. Not exactly a highfalutin crowd, but that’s why he loves it.

Blue menthol smoke curls from the cigarette between his teeth, dimming the incandescence of his eyes in the haze of light, refracted through the seething cloud. In the dark of the joint, the angry red ember of his Kools glows a third eye. He comes to this place, sometimes - that uneasy inconsistency where he’s more than a tourist, and not quite a regular. He likes to write here and outrun his thoughts a little longer when he can banish them between the lines of his flip notepad. Modigliani’s is quiet tonight, as it is every night he comes; just the low, private chatter in scattered booths and a few seats at the bar. Everyone’s nursing their own thoughts, and sometimes, he likes it that way.

All the more reason he knows when he’s being watched.

Call it a reporter’s instinct for the shit that stands apart, or just a vampire’s - but Daniel’s clocked this girl half an hour ago, and all the signs of being surveilled. He’d know. He’s done it, himself. He’d passed over her thoughts with the cool ripple of a skipped stone skimmed over water, like he’d done as a kid. Trick is that it’s best when it’s smooth as glass, but then it’s just a mirror. But Daniel never really did know when it was better to walk away.

His eyes slide up to catch hers from across the way, sudden and arresting, a violet neon jolt like the promise of a 24 hour sign in the window of a palmistry shop: Do you want to know your future? Daniel slips from his seat in a single fluid motion and takes hunched, loping strides toward her corner booth, long-legged and lean and hunting. He smiles privately, close-mouthed, as he angles himself low, a hand flat against the dark lacquered wood of her table.

“Hey.” He flips his notepad into the back pocket of his jeans in a practiced gesture, and splits into a slow grin. “Buy you a drink?”