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[frxnkievigo]

📲 frank

Jude: you can't just call north west into the void like that i got confused for a second and almost opened up the compass app

Jude: :/

Jude: [...]

Jude: excuse me ma'am

Jude: how did you lose your underwear did you not realise it was fuckin... drafty

Frankie: ma'am.... so formal... salutes u before flashing my gums and then my tits

Frankie: listen

Frankie: these things happen

Frankie: we're all human babey! life's like a box o chocolates or whtvr

Frankie: i didnt lose ALL my underwear just. one pair last night

[frxnkievigo]

( + 1 notification from Instagram ) @frank_vigo: gorls! on! film! 

❤ 368 ✐ VIEW ALL 13 COMMENTS

@cleo_vigo: fuckin lame

@gunner_paxton: give me photo creds or give me death

[frxnkievigo]

frankie vigo || aesthetic

“She looks like the sun as it rises after kissing the dawn.”

[frxnkievigo]

📲 open

Jude: hhhhfn. . , ga ?

Jude: [...]

Jude: oh fuck

Jude: he he (read like michael jackson)

Jude: sorry didn't mean to send that. my back pocket? off the shits

Frankie: oh hello? north west? did she post this bc she thought it was cute

Frankie: are you speaking in tongues?

Frankie: shakes my fist at the sky

Frankie: what does this prophecy MEAN

Frankie: hey unrelated but have you seen a rogue pair of panties anywhere on campus? i lost mine :/

[frxnkievigo]

Flower (2017) Directed by Max Winkler

[frxnkievigo]

lanajvmeson‌:

“Girls take piss, man. Ooh, ooh, aah. Man. Angry. Teeny peeny,” Lana sounded out in the gruff grunts of Caesar the ape, a limp fist cropping up to gently knock against the burgundy string ties of her lace up corset – it was a thrifted find from a costume shop, probably fit for a theatrical renaissance piece about the woman evading her household roles for a life of lust and debauchery. She looked more like she belonged in a red lit window in Amsterdam than a campus bar. “God. That was, like… refreshing. Kind of like suckling on Aphrodite’s teat or something. Bon app the tit!” Lifting her hand towards her mouth, she pinched her thumb to her index and middle finger, kissing at the tips before flouncing her wrist away once more. She’d seen an Italian chef do the same on a morning talk show, once, where he’d accidentally hit one of the main hosts in the eye. The whole thing was so absurdly entertaining that she hadn’t been able to shake repeating the gesture, since. “Yeah. Or Buffy Summers. No reason or anything, I just think she’s a quoin.” Hand straying to catch a lock of Frankie’s hair, Lana began to absentmindedly twirl it between her fingers like a child with the ribbon around the neck of their favourite teddy bear. “Yeah? How about, uh… How about you both step on my throat?” Not managing to disguise the quick itch at his crotch to rearrange whatever pitiful package he was stashing in his Levi jeans, Lana crinkled up her nose like she’d caught whiff of a foul stench. “Can I do it with, like… one of those fuzzy little stilettos? You know, total Carrie in Sex and the City vibes. They’re so cute. I mean, you might, like… die, I guess, but isn’t the risk all part of the fun? Pierce! That! Artery!” she got out in singsong, to the tune of ‘move! that! bus!’. “Spicy.”

She didn’t look much different since she had left. Or at least, if you didn’t know Frankie, you wouldn’t have noticed. Her clothes were usually thrifted finds, picked out of bargain bins, but the sequin-covered bodysuit she had on was brand new. Spotless and perfectly hugging her body, their company not missing that detail as he twitched his crotch, looking over both of them like he was Jeffrey Dahmer picturing them in a stew. Making a face, she grabbed his drink out of his hand, taking a sip of it before nearly laughing. “Fuck. An Miller Lite, really? Goes with the whole weirdo vibe you’re giving off. It’s like eau du pervert,” Frankie declared, doing her best, over-exaggerated French accent, putting it down on the bar. Her mouth twitched in a grin as Lana played with her hair, the affectionate gesture making her smile. Her laugh was practically a cackle, witchy and high-pitched as Lana spoke to the guy in front of him, nearly spitting in his face from her amusement. “Murder sounds sexy. Buffy and I will totally hide your body in a bog or somewhere spooky. Get on TV and sell a book about it twenty years from now when we’re released from prison,” she said, nodding emphatically. Honestly, she was having fun with him, playing around with him like a cat chasing a mouse before she opened her jaw. “What do you think, Buff, would he work for us? Honestly, his dick is probably two inches long. It’s be like batting around a ping pong ball.”

[frxnkievigo]

[frxnkievigo]

“Look what I found in the bathroom,” Frankie said, approaching someone she recognized in the bar, hands behind her back. She was back at Lockwood after a month’s absence that her professors had called irresponsible, inexcusable when they saw her finally return clad in all new designer clothes different than her usual vintage wear. Tonight she had on a too-tight black bodysuit, star-shaped glitter covering her collar bones, Muppet-blue faux fur coat around her shoulders. “What, no, guess. You’re never gonna guess,” she said excited, brown eyes lit up. She gave them a few moments before pulling out a lacy bra from behind her back, along with a bag of white powder. “Coke and a bra. Wild, right? I wonder what fallen angel lost these items in there. She’s my hero,” Frankie rambled, quickly hiding the coke again before a bartender spotted her. “You can have one or the other. What’s your pick?”

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lanajvmeson‌:

Lips redder than the blood of a fallen empire, Lana plucked the glacé cherry from her cocktail as soon as the bartender set it down, immediately popping it inside her mouth by a sling of the stem. “So… Can I get a name, babe?” Eyes flitting over to the man lingering at her elbow, she munched wordlessly on the sugar soaked fruit until she could swallow, an apologetic smile cropping into view within another passing second. “Sorry… I don’t, like… have one.” Tugging her cocktail glass towards her, she began to slowly edge sideways so that she could turn her back to him, both oblivious and careless to the disgruntled raise of his eyebrows. “Are you fucking… kidding me? What, you don’t have a name? I just bought you a drink. Did… What the fuck?” Throwing a bewildered glance towards whoever was closest, he gave them a shrug, trying to convey a ‘what the fuck’s her deal?’ with a limp lift of his shoulders. “You hearing this?” Lana slurped noisily at the rim of her glass just to grind his gears further, already beginning to veer away from the counter to head towards a nearby table. “Says she doesn’t have a fucking name. Girls take the piss, man.”

Frankie was at the bar on unrelated business, on a date with a random guy she had picked off of Tinder. Really, it was hardly a date. They had spent the first twenty minutes of it in the bar bathroom, Hips pressed up against the hard metal of the faucet as he pulled her skirt done. He had bought her the obligatory drink afterwards, sitting in awkward near silence except for the few questions he asked her. What’s your major. Where are you from. Rufus had actually asked her to go on the date. Text him under the table the whole time she spoke to the Tinder guy. Some weird fantasy of his that Frankie fulfilled because of the promise of reloading her debit card. Tinder guy had bailed, but Frankie stayed behind when she spotted her friend, hair still askew as she approached the guy bothering Lana. “Oh, dude, she doesn’t give her name out. Neither of us do. We’re dominatrixes. It’s a rule of the trade not to. You can call her Sister Slayer, if you want, though,” she bullshitted, sliding into the barstool behind Lana, crossing her legs. “Want me to step on your throat? It’s a common request for us, really. She’s better at it, though.”

[frxnkievigo]

what’s up guys a lot of you have met frankie before so by now you know she’s about the biggst thot there is sdfgfdsdf. anyways, her pinterest is here so you can get her vibe and her intro’s under the cut!!

( cisfemale ) haven’t seen FRANKIE VIGO around in a while. the COURTNEY EATON lookalike has been known to be AFFECTIONATE & ENERGETIC, but SHE can also be FOOLISH & IMPULSIVE. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in THEATER. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( olive. 21. est. she/er. )

francine “frankie” prudence vigo. what a name. her parents were both hippies who raised her in brooklyn and “worked” as starving artists. well, not starving but close to it. they were very much flower children who had an open relationship so frankie had some questions early on about the strange men and women who were kissing her parents lol

her childhood was generally very happy for the first few years? picture a tiny frankie learning how to paint while eating organic granola and listening to her mom’s fleetwood mac records

was homeschooled for a while until her mom died suddenly in a car accident while her parents were driving upstate for vacation

her dad survived but he was never the same afterwards. he cut off all his hair and got a job waiting tabes at some fancy french restaurant. there wasn’t a lot of music playing in their house after that

basically her dad’s way of dealing with the loss was to just… pretend frankie didn’t exists and ignore her presence. he only spoke to her when it was necessary

as she got to be a teen she tried basically anything to get his attention. getting drunk in the middle of a school day, smoking weed in her room with music blasting, bringing home strings of guys and girls to have loud sex with. none of it got him to look at her

when she was about sixteen she fell “in love” with her english teacher who had a wife and a kid. him being a massive creep, he started sleeping with frankie and telling her he loved her. he’d whisper lines from the great gatsby in her ear while he promised to never leave her

BIG SURPRISE! he did and frankie never told anyone about what happened between and still hasn’t to this day. it really fucked her up and has given her a lot of trauma and abandonment issues

she’s not really good at relationships if you can’t tell? she’s either a bit full on or just doesn’t care about you at all. there’s no in between, and if she likes you she would do anything for you

which definitely gets her into trouble as she can get manipulated easily

her dad didn’t want to pay for her to go to lockwood, but that english teacher? offered to pay for her college if she would never go to the police about what happened

so here she is. she loves to party and is studying dramatic arts, which is perfect for her personality

she loves paris hilton and early 2000′s fashion and idolizes cher. she has a gecko in her room named after that woman

her music taste is largely influence by her mom. she listens to a lot of  80′s indie rock, like belle and sebastian, simon and garfunkel, joy division, violent femmes, talking heads. she also really loves terrible pop music and will pop her pussy to britney any day

she’s kind of the caricature of spunk and energy with a smile and lots of puns that she hides her grief behind

is just always the person at the party making sure everyone’s having a good time

loves drinking especially drinking anything that tastes sweet and sugary

also loves sleeping around. she just left lockwood to go on vacation with this married guy who’s been obsessed with her since he found her on instagram

she’s frankly repulsed by him but he pays for everything for her which is why she’s always throwing money around on her friends

her dad’s also been struggling with money and addiction for a long time now and he’s been homeless on and off for the past year. she sends money to him too when she can which is why she’s stayed with the older guy for so long

OKAY so wanted plots time: i need a toxic relationship with someone who doesn’t actually care about her, an unrequited crush, flings, awkward hookups that on’t look at each other anymore, exes that ended on good terms and are super close now, childhood friends, family friends, and some wild, reckless friends that all party together skins style. hit me up.

[frxnkievigo]

Taxi Driver (1976) dir. Martin Scorsese

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one of the worst youtube comments ive seen in awhile

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lanajvmeson:

Carefully wedging the thick straw of her red slush puppy in place, Lana sucked up a mouthful large enough to force her eyes into an adamant scrunch, brain misting involuntarily as a result of the overwhelming cold. “Gah. My tit,” she croaked out in uncanny Jennifer Check impression, abruptly cupping a palm around the left side of her chest, much to the disgruntled horror of a nearby parent toting their child along with all the aggression of a threadbare rag doll. Flinging her hand back to her side, Lana let her straw rest on top of her bottom lip, plump pink subtly drooping beneath the weight of it while she eyed the milling fish. “A squid, probably. Just nutting a whole ocean of ugly black stuff whenever anyone tries to poke it. That’s classic me,” came along with a nod, tongue briefly wetting her lips before she swallowed and suddenly switched the subject. “I think male seahorses are, like, the coolest fish of all the fish. Have you ever seen one give birth? I watched it on YouTube, once. Couldn’t finish my McFlurry but the respect? Still there, even if it looked gross. You just don’t get human men like that, you know? Impossiblé!”

“Ew. Nasty Lana. You know that I have a thing about squids. They remind me too much of that dude who tried to grab my tit at my seventh grade dance,” Frankie complained, pale pink lips resting on the straw of her bottle of Coca Cola, sipping on the sugary sweetness. The girl had spiked it with rum before entering the aquarium, something she had not bothered to share with Lana. Frankie stopped in front of one of the tanks, green-tinted hazel eyes serenely watching the moving fish float by her. Her gaze seemed listless as she listened to Lana talk, unable to hide her lack of sobriety for too much longer. “Hm? What’s that? Oh, yeah. Seahorses rock. They like, totally want to smash the patriarchy. I think seahorses are definitely feminists,” Frankie rattled off leaning closer to the tank. “Do you think they have those tanks where you can touch manta rays here, or whatever they are? I bet they feel so slimy. Or maybe they have seals, too. I absolutely adore seals, Lans.”

[frxnkievigo]

@judashaywire: @frank_vigo i'm fucking leaving

@frank_vigo: @judashaywire taps the microphone at the press conference: hello yes i regret none of my actions