“I’d like to be your friend.”
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@fckserenavance-blog
“I’d like to be your friend.”

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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@wesmarcus: I think /I think/ we're finally going to get Caroline's car from the shop
@serenavance: @wesmarcus come home :(
You say sit back down where you belong In the corner of my bar with your high heels on Sit back down on the couch where we made love the first time And you said to me there’s, something something about this place something about lonely nights And my lipstick on your face
aesthetic series: you and I - lady gaga

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Contact info: pupRingtone: sunday morning- maroon 5Picture:
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Contact info: bae 💞Ringtone: work- rihannaPicture:
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Contact info: alex 😎😎😎Ringtone: same drugs- chance the rapperPicture:
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Contact info: ez breezy beautiful (cover girl)Ringtone: the office theme songPicture:
✆ :~)
Contact info: don’t answerRingtone: i hate u, i love u- gnashPicture:

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Contact info: prince charmingRingtone: marry you- bruno marsPicture:
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Contact info: sunshineRingtone: san francisco- the mowgli’sPicture:
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Contact info: why are you like thisRingtone: pity party- melanie martinezPhoto: —-
Send me a ✆ to know your name/ringtone/picture in my character’s mobile.
shay wrapped his arms around the blonde as he felt her cheek against his neck. “that sounds sucky, and i can definitely provide a little sunshine. here, let me––” he cut himself off to grab the contents she held, relieving her of her carrying duties, “––take these. and we can go get you an ice cream cone because no one needs a coffee on a hot day like today when you can have fuckin’ ice cream. am i right? yes. the answer is yes.” he let out a laugh as he put his long arm around her shoulders and lead her toward the ice cream shop around the corner.
“i never doubted you, dear.” pressing a kiss against his cheek, her thumb smudging away the faint remnants of pink left in its place before cupping along his jawline for a moment. smiling brightly up at him as he took her script, she nestled against his side, arms wrapping around his waist as his fell in a comforting weight on her shoulder. “i think i’m having caffeine withdrawals,” she complained lightly, sticking her tongue out in distaste. “ice cream might cure my ailments. but you have to promise me your full attention for the rest of the afternoon, i absolutely refuse to share. so tell me, darling, how have the past--” she quickly calculated the time that’s past since she last saw him, “49 hours been?”

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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twin fire signs || wes&serena
“I’m am extraordinarily proud of you, minding your own business, just one fight with Cait - I almost don’t believe in.” Picking up a wine glass, he rolled his eyes. “Oh trust me, you didn’t miss much. ‘On behalf of my father, who regrets not being here, thank you all for coming, blah blah, here’s a whole lot of money in his name, blah blah, someone please get me a drink’.”
He took a large sip of the wine, pleasantly surprised by how much he liked it, and leaned back against the counter. He typically enjoyed events like Caitlin’s auction, but he’d let his sour mood take over the event. While he could fake a smile for a few minutes on stage and pleasantries with his dad’s clients, he hadn’t been up to holding onto the facade all night. A night in with Serena was much more appealing tonight.
“Same old, same old,” he repeated, wrinkling his nose. “Only you could make a day like that sound boring. Oh, see, I’d nearly forgotten, you got me all distracted.” He hummed softly, taking another sip of wine and enjoying the comfort of her fingers in his hair. “It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest run-ins I’ve ever experienced. And I’m still avoiding the subway after that high school girl asked me to sign that picture of me in a towel. I was talking about Caroline’s party, and she comes out of nowhere, asking for my name, and then my number, and it’s not until I threaten to call the cops that she drops her the whole ‘your dad is my dad’, bomb. She lives in the Bronx, Serena. Like I can’t see right through her.”
“You should really have more faith in me.” Serena kept her expression innocent, doe eyes wide. “I’m a stand up citizen. Trouble just seems to follow me of its own accord.” Her mind flashed momentarily to the array of drugs and alcohol tucked into the corners of her room. “You’re right, that is much more boring than I had imagined. I want a shout out in your next one. Something really heartfelt.”
A few more gulps and the glass was almost empty, hands reaching for the bottle to refill. Serena would never call herself a lightweight but wine made her exceptionally giggly and sleepy, skin warm with the beginning of a flush. “It’s all the same thing I’ve been doing since forever,” she dismissed. “And what it feels like I’ll be doing for forever.” It was true-- the city often felt more gray than it was worth, pavement blurring into people, monotony broken only by varying states of intoxication and bedsheets. Bored little rich kids. The thought was almost enough to cause an involuntary roll of the eyes. How terribly cliche.
“Poor baby,” she cooed, fingers moving to brush through his hair. “That subway thing was partially your fault, though-- mostly for trying to take the subway in the first place. We have drivers for a reason.” Balancing the bottle and her glass in one hand, she grabs onto his with her other, tugging him toward the couch. Places the bottle on the floor, glass stark against hardwood and the edge of her white, fuzzy rug, and tucks her legs beneath her, makes herself small against the armrest, gaze trained on his. “She sounds desperate. Probably smells like cheap perfume and a bad dye job.” Her nose wrinkles slightly, expression of horror to mirror his. “Like your dad would ever have a kid with someone from the Bronx. I mean, it’s bad enough that my dad married a woman from there--” a small shudder. “There’s no way she’s telling the truth,” she leans forward on her knees for a moment to swipe a reassuring thumb against his cheek. “So the question is: what are we going to do about it?”