#ivorysatin

[kendolled]

                           “hey, blair,” his eyebrows furrowed together as his hand caught her elbow -TOUCH FEATHER LIGHT WHEN ONCE HE’D GOTTEN HER ATTENTION, - a somewhat troubled look on his face. “do you think we could... talk? just about...” EVERYTHING, but he didn’t quite know how to say that. “in private?”

@ivorysatin​   (   semi - not quite - plotted starter   )

[bettysbrewaa]

blair  :  it’s 2019--- why do boys still think girls like the smell of AXE ?

betty :  idk about u but i love the smell of an axe in my hands. smells like power and fear.    ( x )

[princecouronnea]

@ivorysatin​    /      ♗

[sereigna]

       𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐏     𝐈𝐍     𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓     .             sorrow          in          deep          blue          eyes     .             the          guilt          of          her          troubling          past     ,        𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙     .             no          matter          how          many          good         deeds          done     ,       it          would          never          be          𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩     .             “               i          didn’t          know          what          to          say          to          you          or          even          know          how          to          be          your          friend         after          𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥          𝕚          𝕕𝕚𝕕     .     ”             teary          eyes     ,       words         struggling          to          come         out     .             𝓪𝓭𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰          her          fault     .             “      i’m        sorry     .     ”                    ♡       .      ◞         @ivorysatin​          .

[dirati]

Ivory satin draped softly against the skin, finished with delicate lace ruffles and a quiet, timeless romance.

https://dirativintage.com

[kendolled]

@ivorysatin​ said: “ i’ll stay the night. ”

                            a grin slowly crept across nate’s face as her words sank in, his body unconsciously shifting closer to hers as his eyebrow quirked up. “REALLY? YOU SURE?” he muttered softly, hand settling on his hip as his eyebrow quirked up just a touch. “because i don’t think i can promise to keep my hands to myself if you stay.”

[joneshead]

  @ivorysatin​​​ SAID : please, don’t go.

Frozen by the doorway, his hand braced against the frame. Jughead paused a few seconds before he turned his head to look back at her, looking suddenly very sad and alone across the small room. He had an image in his mind of a kicked puppy, or a wet kitten, and with a compelling feeling growing in his chest, he gave her a small nod of resolution. Still, he didn’t move back towards her, nor did he drop the coat that was thrown over his shoulder. He’d been able to make a swift, early exit, but it seemed that his night wasn’t yet over. 

Silence followed for a long moment, green eyes watchful as he contemplated her state. He held up a finger. “I’ll be right back.” Turning again, he slipped quietly from the room, drawing the door mostly shut. He went back the way he’d come, following his nose towards the kitchens which he’d already made friends in, and when he re-entered from the back way, the chef barely looked at him. He helped himself to a glass of water and a half empty plate of hors d’oeuvres that had finished circulating for the new ones to be brought out. He left again without so much as a word of thanks, and made his way back to Blair again.

He pushed the door back open, and closed it behind himself all the way. The click of the latch filled the room before his footsteps as he languidly crossed the room. Sinking down beside her, he handed her the glass of water and plucked a quiche looking thing from the plate. Popping it in his mouth, he chewed contently. “It can’t be a completely terrible night if you’ve got food.”

SOFT ANGST.

[joneshead]

  @ivorysatin​​ SAID : ‘  if  you  came  here  hoping  to  be  hot  shit ,  you  best  not  be  seen  with  me .  ’

"Fortunately, I never intend to be more than lukewarm shit at best.” A health dose of sarcasm. Nothing less than expected when it came to Jughead Jones. A haphazard suit. A loose tie hanging around his neck, a little cock-eyed. He’d come with Veronica, but he wasn’t exactly a willing participant when it came to these sorts of affairs, all chandeliers and champagne, diamonds sparkling and boring talk of trust funds and business ventures. He was already bored stiff, and he hadn’t been there but ten minutes. In that time, Veronica had managed to be swept off into some deal of sorts -- she’d been saying all morning how she wanted to grab someone’s ear, starting in about a fashion line launch ... Yada, yada. He was only interested in the hors d’oeuvres. And yet somehow he’d managed to wind up with company besides just himself. 

“I thought you were hot shit around here anyways. Least, that’s what the talk is. Since when did your reputation turn?”

A MEME I’M TOO LAZY TO FIND.