my new favorite okcupid message

Product Placement
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@frankievigc
my new favorite okcupid message
rorybergstrom:
making friends had never been something that concerned rory. he idled through life and others somehow plucked him out from the corners he tried to shrink into, taught him how to open himself like a violet in the spring. a sea of unfamiliar faces greeted them as rory entered the classroom, anarchist pin badges all up his sleeves, abrasive stares of lockwood locals cutting like knives. they took a seat on an empty table in the corner, placed three items: a notebook, a fountain pen, and an apple on the table in front of them and opened the pad, continuing to sculpt the origami coffin he’d started in the courtyard. to some, it might seem odd that a brighton student who chose not to attend his own lectures ( for suspicion of the tutors ineptitude ) chose instead to attend lectures outside their discipline – background knowledge, he’d claimed when sitting in on an engineering workshop. cultural awareness had been his answer in a tutorial on literature of the civil rights movement. “uh, excuse me– hey, hi…” rory uttered, catching the attention of a student a few seats along from him. “just wondering, ah– what lecture is this?”
With her feet up on the seat in front of her, platform boots that would have made Donna Sheridan jealous, Frankie looked like she belonged in a 70′s go-go club rather than an afternoon lecture. She looked up briefly as the boy sat beside her, head drifting back into her hand to daydream rather than pay attention to the nuances of the Tony Kushner play her Dramatic Arts lecturer was attempting to explain with his usual thespian bravado. Head of soft curls drifted back up to look at him as she spoke, wide grin spreading on her face as she snapped into conversation like a wind-up toy just released to trot about the table. “Astrology 101. We were just getting to Venus signs. Y’know, how they determine your love life and everything,” she lied, just to see how he would react. “Wish mine wasn’t in Gemini. Probably why I’m such a thot. You like Zodiac signs?”
sterlingharlow:
Sterling remembered the way his first kiss ever went, 15, gawky, and somehow even more painfully awkward than he was right now. One of the most popular girls in school had been dared to do it, and she’d laughed right in his face when he began panting after the sudden attack. But Frankie wasn’t laughing, and she was asking him to come closer. It was only polite to oblige. “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Sterling said quickly, immediately pushing himself off from where he was leaning against the kitchen sink. The push felt a bit like when people kicked off of the wall of a pool, the initial kick enough to make it so that they could travel an entire length of the pool without another movement if they wanted to. Sterling felt a bit like he was moving on autopilot, worried that if he started thinking too hard he’d pull a Sterling and scare Frankie away. It was a miracle that everything was going to smoothly as it was, “Scooch,” he mumbled gently, making himself comfortable onto the bed beside Frankie. After a moment’s pause, Sterling nudged her with his shoulder, a hint of a nervous smile appearing when he asked, “You weren’t planning on studying at all, were you?”
Unfolding her legs, Frankie grinned as he sat next to her, the boy’s taller frame nearly dwarfing her, despite her considerable height herself. “’Kay,” she said, her voice clipped and a little to high, more nervous than she should be. Every time she kissed Sterling ti felt like the first time doing it, the initial rush of it not wearing off yet. She smoothed out the wrinkles of the bed sheets beside her, trying to busy her hands so she didn’t she stare at him a little too intensely. Every time she touched Sterling it was like a privilege. He was so skittish around other people, and she could never figure out quite why he had chosen to let her in, just a little bit. On paper, they shouldn’t have worked. Frankie had even had him in her contacts once as “Old Boring Man”. But she liked how he treated her just as kindly and carefully as she treated him. “No, not at all,” she said, with a small laugh, leaning over to kiss him finally, slowly at first. Her hand couldn’t help but wander up to his still-wet hair. “How’s that?” She asked him softly, mouth still close to his, trying to repress her smile.
judehvyward:
At the risk of being crass, Jude had been looking forward to having a piss for well over half an hour, now. Contrary to the typical assumption, though, it wasn’t because he needed one. In fact, he’s never needed a piss less in his life than he did at that specific point in time, but he thought if he had to stay and listen to Martha, as she’d introduced herself, speak about how he should “really, really consider modelling” for another five minutes, he might genuinely off himself. Finally snapping and excusing himself with a firmly departed “look, Martha, I. Need. To. Shit.” Lifting his eyebrows in shock at the surprise route he’d taken, it was with his beer in his hand and his steps hurried that he left Martha open mouthed and gawking, clearly in a state of shock. Jiggling the handle and stepping inside, it only took one look at Frankie’s knickers for him to drop his beer and cover his eyes with the same hand in a bid to protect her modesty – a silly concept, really, considering the fact that they’d both seen each other naked. “…Fuck,” he muttered after standing there listening to the bubbles fizz all over the bathroom tiles for a minute, toes of his Dr. Martens soaked. Squinting so profusely that all he could see was an indistinct blur of shadows and eyelashes, Jude clicked the door shut and turned the lock. “Jesus, Frankie. Just… an eyeful of vagina on a Sunday morning. Make me some eggs, first,” he sighed in faux distress, ignoring the fact that it was actually a Saturday night at a Lockwood rager. “Fuckin’… hit me in the throat like a mallet, that one. A lot to process.” Leaning back against the door, he merely eyed the mess of beer he’d made before returning his attention towards Frankie. “Yeah, actually. Just got startled out of mine like an old chihuahua hearing a doorbell,” he let out, punctuating the sentence with a short laugh as he drew in closer to grab the bottle. “Looks alright, though,” came as he gently pinched at the hem of her skirt, investigating the dark stain. “Just, uh… blends in, really, I think. You’re pulling it off.”
Jude’s overdramatic reaction to the girl made her laugh for the first time since the girl threw her wine on Frankie, lightening her mood instantly with her ability to shock him even though he had already seen her naked. He was probably one of the few guys around Lockwood that would have reacted that way. “Calm down. It’s just a vagina. And it’s covered! Can whip it out though if you’ve forgotten what one looks like. Ba dum tiss,” she joked, kicking her legs back and forth as she sat on the counter. The cool linoleum of the counter under her legs was chilling, a winter night in Rochester probably too cold for the girl to go bare-legged. But she had whipped her tights off in the bushes before she got there, a drunken and impulsive decision that drew several whoops of excitement from the frat boys around her. She handed Jude the bottle of vodka, scratching at her face with a single nail before she remembered the glitter she had stuck on her cheeks, star shaped and gold. “Really? Think it looks a bit like I got shot. Hot, though. Dangerous. It’s like, where did she come from? Where did she go? Carmen Sandiego and Cotton Eyed Joe all rolled into one.” Flashing him a grin, she snatched the vodka bottle back, taking a long pull. “Feel free to pee, or whatever. I won’t look. Or were you coming here to wank? I’ve had to do that at a party before. Some guy put a really hot porno on the tv and honestly? Was too much for this wee lass to handle.”
Taxi Driver (1976) dir. Martin Scorsese
@frank_vigo: bury me in ted mosby's red cowboy boots and paris hilton's booty shorts so that when they excavate my body one thousand years from now they'll think thats just how everyone dressed
Sneaking up on someone in the hallway of one of Lockwood’s lastest house parties, Frankie practically shouting “Hi!” in the person’s ear as she snaked an arm around their waist. The girl smiled brightly as she chewed a wad of bright pink bubblegum. Even if she didn’t know someone, Frankie was always a girl to act like you were her best friend that she hadn’t seen in months. “Tell me something: Does my breath smell like gin or bubblegum right now?” She asked, her other hand playing with the hem of her short, red plaid skirt. “Also, how do you feel about body shots. I’m thinking of living out my Project X dreams. Get dragged off the premises by helicopter by the end of the night. @brtprnce
“Hey!” Frankie called out, gesturing to someone she recognized wildly from the corner she was standing in at the house party, a mess of flailing arms. Once he got over to her, she looped her arm around a man standing next to her, giggling as she did so. Frankie’s denim skirt was just a little too short, it’s black color something Rachel Green would wear if she went goth. “Um, this is Ryan. He told me he once fucked a watermelon. Isn’t that fascinating?” She asked, with wide eyes, unicorn sticker stuck under her eye glinting in the flashing lights of the frat party, something she had childishly stuck on like an accessory. Her brown eyes were pleading with the person in front of her to get her out of there, smile strained. @ankajos
frankie vigo // moodboard 1/?
a study in red. manic pixie sex goblin. twitter's biggest headache. lindsey lohan reincarnate. cotton candy fever dream. emotional black hole.
sterlingharlow:
“Hardly a freak,” Sterling reassured her quickly, taking a sip of his coffee as he straightened after his thorough analysis. He’d been worried that maybe he’d taken her question a bit too seriously - sometimes Sterling didn’t understand social cues, and it seemed to be his downfall. A shameless flirt at a party usually turned into a girl scoffing in his face, so it was refreshing to have Frankie merely smile and agree with him. Making his way to the small kitchenette in his room when he noticed Frankie begin to take off her winter gear, Sterling had prepared himself to ask once again if she wanted something to drink - it felt like the casual wine opportunity had passed, and his quiet demeanour was, once again, the reason. However, before he could even pass his permission onto Frankie, she was making herself at home and throwing the most startling question in Sterling’s direction. Mug slipping out of his hand into the kitchen sink, he let out a gasp at the loud clang it made, cringing slightly but turning to look in her direction as soon as he realized that it was fine. “Um,” he started, mouth suddenly incredibly dry from what he could only assume were nerves, “are you sure?” If their lives were a sit com, the laugh track would’ve probably been queued for that moment. Who actually asked something like that to a pretty girl while on the complete opposite end of a room? “I mean - of course, I… I should feel lucky that you’re even asking me, I just… I-I don’t know. I just don’t want you to… do something you might regret.”
The loud noise of Sterling dropping the mug made her jump slightly, Frankie pulling her legs up onto the bed as her mouth twitched with a slight smile. Sterling’s reactions to her were always more endearing than embarrassing to Frankie. She liked making him blush. The “are you sure”, and the hesitance in his voice caused her to smile even wider. Sterling never could see how wonderful he was. How much she really did like him. “I’m really sure,” she said, probably too quickly, and with too much emphasis, cheeks growing red after she blurted it out. If she was honest, it was her sole purpose in coming here. It had been far too long since she had first started flirting with Sterling, each drunken kiss they shared just agonizing now. “I won’t regret it. I’m... I’m really sure,” she repeated, self-deprecating laugh escaping her lips. “Can you just... get over here?” She asked tentatively, face hopeful, the girl uncharacteristically shy today.
astrdlcke:
Astrid followed behind Frankie without a second thought, nodding her head in agreement. “I mean, of course he has. What man hasn’t?” she agreed with a nod. “What man named Adam hasn’t? I mean, from the very beginning of time?” she continued, moving into the bedroom behind Frankie and immediately beginning to lift the mattress to check underneath. “Yeah, go for it. It’s gotta be somewhere. Depends on how sneaky he is about it.”
“Good point,” she said, poking through the desk, pulling each drawer out.Her eyes lit up upon opening the last door, removing what looked to be the largest box of condoms she had ever seen. Upon closer inspection, it was a 300 count box. “Whoa. Need any condoms? Adam’s got plenty to spare. You really think he’s fucked 300 times?” Frankie said, dumping the contents out of his bed, revealing yes, quite a bit of condoms but also a baggy of white powder. “Got it!”
one of the worst youtube comments ive seen in awhile
put this on my grave
sterlingharlow:
Popping three different prescription pills alongside an adderall into his mouth and downing them all at once, Sterling had spent the better half of his day getting ready for Frankie to come over. He hadn’t seen the other in what felt like forever, and after receiving so many questions regarding Frankie he’d start to worry that maybe she already had tired of him. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and he knew Frankie had several options that were far better for her and better in general. Mug of coffee in hand, Sterling had only just tossed a t-shirt on after stepping out of the shower, hair still messy and wet when he heard a knock on his door. “Fuck,” he mumbled, staring at himself in his bedroom mirror and wincing slightly at just how much of a nest his hair looked like. Cheeks already somewhat flushed, Sterling flashed Frankie a sheepish smile as he answered the door, “Hey, Frankie… um, sorry for - I-I lost track of time. I look kinda like Big Bird,” Sterling sighed, closing the door behind her. “Do you want a -,” cut off before he could even kill the host game - he’d practiced twice just how he’d casually ask her if she wanted a glass of wine - Sterling’s brows flew to his hairline at Frankie’s question, “Your lips?” he asked, leaning down so they were closer in height and analyzing her mouth, despite his familiarity with it, “No, not at all… you actually have a perfectly symmetrical cupid’s bow. And they thin out perfectly towards the corner of your mouth while still being full in the center,” he pointed out, index finger running along his own lip as a guide, “So scientifically they’re a perfect set of lips. And, um, visually. I’m looking at them, so… I-I’d know.”
His wet hair made Frankie’s heart beat faster, his less composed state making her smile. He was always so careful around her, so hesitant and cautious that she felt like a train wreck next to him. It was almost a relief to catch him in a state of disarray for once. “You look really cute, actually,” she said, trying to hide the bright grin that spread across her face while saying it. She wasn’t used to how Sterling made her feel, still. Like just a girl with a crush on a boy. His eyes looking over her mouth made her grin wider, suddenly bashful, cheeks growing red to match his. “Good to know I’m not a total freak. Scientifically? I’m a great specimen, I guess.” She wasn’t used to being so nervous around somebody. Perhaps it was Sterling’s own caution around her, treating her like she was a gentle thing rather than someone to be thrown around and used. Slipping out of her Converse, Frankie attempted to settle in and steel her nerves, finally taking off her thick coat. “Is it okay if I sit on your bed?” Shed asked, hopping up, feet kicking back and forth childishly. “Hey, um... one more question. Can I kiss you? I’ve just never done it sober before. And I think I’d really like to.”
astrdlcke:
Astrid perked up slightly at the mention of drugs, happy to have anything to indulge in that wouldn’t leave her with another night of alcohol poisoning. It was getting rather out of hand, to say the least, how often she was ended the night with her head in the toilet. “I’m down to go on a search for treasure if you are,” she agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically. “If anything, he probably was testing to see who the bravest soldiers in his home were.”
Since having come back to Lockwood, Frankie had been on a bender at nearly every opportunity, and looking for drugs was a good way to delay more shots even if for just a couple of minutes. “Let’s go, then. Feel like he’s probably done something dickish at some point. He’s deserving!” Frankie said, flashing a grin at the blonde and starting to head up the stairs, towards where it was quieter by the personal rooms of the frat. “Think his name was Adam? Anyways, he had tree trunk thighs. Noah Centineo is quaking,” Frankie said, opening the door to the first room she saw and stepping inside with Astrid. “Think the desk is a good place to start?”
Having arranged for the two of them to meet up earlier, Frankie had asked to hang out with Sterling on the pretense of studying. She probably hadn’t properly studied for a class since freshman year. But really, after taking another break from Lockwood, she had missed him. More than she caed to admit. Her friends might have thought it was odd, how much she cared for Sterling. For someone so attracted to assholes, Sterling would not have seemed like her type. But she had put an extra layer of lipgloss on that morning, her outfit meticulously planned to be cute but not trying to hard, thin white t-shirt cold under her thick jacket as she knocked on his door. When Sterling opened it, she smiled brightly, nearly blushing from her joy. “Hey,” she greeted, letting himself into her room. “So before we study, I have a very serious question for you. Do you think I have weird lips? Some guy told me I have weird lips yesterday.” @sterlingharlow
( + 1 notification from Instagram ) @frank_vigo la vie en rose
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@cleovigo: loser
@lana_jameson: Babbi Babbi she so Babbi
@sterling_harlow: :)