#clvireyu

[acheos]

"What is that!?"

Ana turned towards the sound of Claire’s disgusted voice, standing up from her seat to look at whatever was grossing her out. “Oh...” Ana said, her eyes wide from the sight of the exploded pigeon by where they were sitting. “That... that’s an exploded pigeon and I think we should move seats before we end up dying.” Ana urged, picking up her bag and cellphone from the wooden table.

[servndipxty]

clvireyu 

{ text to: bianca } wasn’t my fault you were getting on my nerves as usual. next time watch what you were saying, dear.

[ sms → Claire ] I’ll try to keep that in mind, can’t promise anything. 

[ sms → Claire ] Next time try not to hit me against something that breaks, it looks like something rough happened on my back.

[pvrkersong]

[text] Do me a favor I want you to reach down the front of your pants and underwear and just feel around for a while… if you happen to find your balls then join us

[txt] well well. never thought you’d be the type to want to watch me jerk off, darling~ you’ve been dreamin’ of me? 

[ajwangx]

Adrian loved modelling for his father more than his mother for a number of reasons – his father didn’t call him Jackson, he got to choose most of his outfits, and no padding was required.

Although he was smaller than the usual runway model, his father always insisted that he modeled some of the newer pieces, saying that he had a certain “swagger” in his model walk that accentuated the piece.

So there he sat, on the backstage of some private fashion show, dressed in oversized fisherman overalls with a black shirt and a gold chain around his neck. The little tufts of hair on the back of his head were spiked up, exposing the newly-shaved sides of his head. He looked ridiculous, to be honest, but what high-fashion outfits didn’t? He sat in the makeup chair as he closed his eyes, the makeup artist dabbing glitter underneath them as he silently prayed that none of it would enter his eyes.

“Okay, you’re ready to go.” the makeup artist told him, removing the brush from his face. He flashed a bright smile as he hopped on his feet, he yelled at thank you at the makeup artist before running away to look for his father.

“Woah there.” Adrian was stopped by a strong grip on his shoulders – it was no one other than his father, Alexander Wang, the renowned fashion designer. “Adrian, I told you to stop running backstage, what are you, like seven?”

“You sounded just like mom there.” Adrian replied, a smug smile on his face.

At this, his father just wrinkled his nose. “Anyways, it’s a good thing you found me, you’re walking down with a partner today.”