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milfvcker

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About milfvcker

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    ur mom haha got em

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  1. A Dire Housewarming (Haunted Glen)

    Frankie acknowledged Maryanne's teasing with a playful eyeroll before paying attention to the matter at hand. Frankie couldn't quite wrap her around all the talk about negotiation for a meeting place. A meeting place? Really? Everyone was a vampire, perfectly capable of turning into a bat and hanging upside down in a dark, damp cave for a night. Or at least that's what Frankie was assuming but it's not all that bad. Frankie tried it for herself once or twice, just out or sheer curiosity and it was proven to be quite comfortable. Also, these vampires were perfectly capable of massacring another family and conquering what belonged to them. So why not do that? Why do we have to waste our time bickering over a rebellious juvenile with no shoes? All eyes were on Damien at this point, trying to figure out whether he would go back home or come join Choisel, aside from Maryanne trying to coax Nova into staying with her smelly perfume and charismatic words. Frankie huffed quietly at the interaction, her head resting heavily in her palms. Was this really necessary? Of course not. This is boring. He obviously doesn't want to tag along so let's get going. We can find another mansion and more pure bloods somewhere else. Frankie's soft teal orbs bored intensely into the side of Leinhart's head while probing her thoughts into his. In hopes that it would influence the stony-faced vampire and his intentions but it was highly unlikely. Worth a shot though. Frankie shifted her gaze from Master Choisel to Damien's butler. A small smirk curled on her lips when Sebastian spoke that god-awful pun. She would kill herself again if he made another one. Her eyebrows instantly furrowed when a stranger abruptly stopped the conversation by screeching his allegations over the taking of Tia. Was he now of the humans that have a stubborn stigma over vampires? It's too bad, vampires are such a lovely crowd. Yikes. Was all Frankie could think as her eyes widen slightly at the sudden feeding of the man. She would've killed them first but you know, every vampire is different. Frankie just doesn't like her food screaming into her eat. Yet, it was very impressive how not one drop spilled onto the dirt. Not bad, delinquent.
  2. A Dire Housewarming (Haunted Glen)

    Maybe what Frankie did was a tad bit unnecessary of her but what’s done is done, she didn’t care, she was dead. Frankie eyed Leinhart as she listened to his dignified words before witnessing the spy on Leinhart’s suit fly off into the dirt with the wave of Maryanne’s finger. She crossed her arms and pouted like a mere child, pouting that one of Leinhart’s loyal servants was dampening in on her fun. Buzzkill. Frankie’s narrowed to thin slit as she sent a death glare towards Maryanne. Frankie’s countenance unwrinkled at the thought of terrifying those who tried to stand up to her. The comment from Maryanne actually amused her and brought a slight, playful smirk on Frankie’s pale face. Hell yeah bitches, I scare people. Frankie’s eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of her head at Leinhart claiming that outsiders were having an influence on her. How could you blame her? She spent five years partying her tits off with complete strangers. The amount of alcohol Frankie consumed during those years could probably stock a whole bar for two years. Frankie could’ve snapped back one more time because why not? However, she was going to stop acting like a spoiled brat and back off. Rosenthorps were devoted epicureans with a horrible weakness to any kind of alcohol but they knew when to sober up and get serious. Frankie idly listened to the business talk between Leinhart and Damien’s butler, quickly growing bored of the babble. She would kill for a comfy loveseat to stretch out on and take a load off. Frankie loved spooky graveyards and all but surrounded by dead spirits and sitting on rocky headstones was not her thing. I would also kill for a bloody mary, or maybe ten.
  3. A Dire Housewarming (Haunted Glen)

    Dialogue went by in a blur because Frankie was so lost in Leinhart's strong and sharp features. She was just content with finally reuniting with the man she has been standing next to after five long years. She briefly glanced around at the newly arrived company before being guided by the hip by Leinhart. They were both suddenly encapsulated by flying servants and fangs were lodged into her neck. She felt the blood draining and the memories of Leinhart flooding into crack and crevice of her mind. It didn't vary much, it was a lot of business while ducking down low, trying not to lose his head to the humans. It was in fact the polar opposite of Frankie who indulged herself in partying and alcohol, risking her head for the pleasures of the humans. Probably shouldn't have done that. " You haven't been up to too much, huh, honey? " Frankie smirked smugly before the bats swiftly dispersed into the darkness of the night and Leinhart unlatched from her neck. She side-stepped to the right of Leinhart, silently eyeing the new vampires. Are they pure bloods? Why is those guys so shy? Why can't I understand that one? Questions fogged her mind as Frankie gathered opinions and first impressions on the group. Her eyes laid on the vampire with the heavy British or Irish accent? She couldn't tell. Frankie ran a hand through her silver hair, blue eyes carefully scanning the appearances of the others. Her attention was quickly diverted to Leinhart as he was introducing her to the world. Eyebrows furrowing in angry confusion as he established her as " up for claiming. " " Hold up, Lein, baby.. What the fuck do you mean by up to whoever wants to claim me? " Frankie asked incredulously, invisible steam rising from the top of her head. She proclaimed absolute loyalty to him only God knows how long ago and this is the thanks she gets? The day they finally reconcile, she is offered up like a prostitute. Frankie refused to be treated as such. Frankie quickly reached out and landed a sharp strike on Leinhart's cheek, eyes blazing with a raging fire. Adding insult to injury, she hawked a glob of spit on his crimson suit with a tight-lipped smile afterwards. Frankie cleared her throat, plopping onto a nearby headstone and returning to a cool exterior.
  4. A Dire Housewarming (Haunted Glen)

    Frankie dropped a limp body to the ground, blowing loose dirt from under it as it collided with a dull thud. She sloppily wiped the blood off her lips with the back of her hand, expelling white wisps of warm breath in the cold, crispy atmosphere. " This is so boring. Where's Lein when you need him? " A irritated groan flowed out of Frankie's mouth as she whipped out the resin rose Leinhart gave her a few years ago out of her back pocket. She could make out the crimson petals and green stamina the faint glow of the moonlight. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Frankie stood in the middle of a thick forest, examining the rose closely in detail. She glanced out and faded into a drastic change of surroundings. Leinhart stood to her left wile unfamiliar faces stood to her right. The rose crumpled into fine dust and was scooped along by a stray breeze. " What the fuuck? "
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