#Loulou Velvet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merzbow-derek · 7 years ago

Photo

POST-SCRIPTUM 790

AGITATION FRITE 2 : DES PHOTOS DE BONDAGE, CHEZ JEAN-PIERRE TURMEL

Agitation Frite 1, Témoignages de l’underground français est donc sorti chez Lenka lente. Un second volume est en préparation. La forme en est la même : un peu moins d’une quarantaine d’entretiens dont la plupart, cette fois, sont inédits. On en trouvera ici des extraits, régulièrement. Par exemple, Romain Slocombe.

EXTRAIT…

À propos de tes débuts : s’agit-il d’emblée d’un travail associant écriture et graphisme, sans recours aux traditionnels phylactères ? Photographie et cinéma sont-ils déjà présents dans ton travail ?

Mes premiers dessins sont parus vers 1974, alors que j’étais plus ou moins inscrit comme étudiant aux Beaux-arts de Paris. Les futurs membres du groupe graphique Bazooka et moi, plutôt que de suivre les cours, songions à publier des fanzines ou à trouver des gens pour financer nos projets. Kiki Picasso était mon meilleur copain (il n’utilisait pas encore ce pseudonyme), et tous deux nous étions très amateurs de la science-fiction de l’époque. Philip K. Dick, Philip José Farmer et al. Fort logiquement, nous sommes allés voir la revue Galaxie, qui nous a pris quelques dessins. Un peu plus tard nous avons illustré la collection Chute Libre, chez l’éditeur Champ Libre. J’y ai fait la couverture de La Défonce Glogauer de Michael Moorcock. Au début, je songeais certes à faire de la bande dessinée, mais j’avais du mal à trouver un style unique du début à la fin : ça variait trop d’une planche à l'autre, alors je me suis dit qu’il valait mieux faire des illustrations. Quand mon premier album dans une collection BD est sorti aux Humanoïdes Associés (Prisonnière de l'Armée Rouge, en 1978), c’était d’ailleurs une suite de pleines pages, et il y avait pas mal de commentaires, pas trop de « bulles » (chez moi, ce sont d'ailleurs des rectangles). Ce livre m’a été inspiré par des films de gangsters japonais et des films érotiques de la compagnie Nikkatsu que j’avais vus lors de mon premier séjour à Tokyo, en 1977.

Quels rapports entretenais-tu avec le groupe Bazooka ?

J’étais très proche de Bazooka. Cependant, il y avait aussi des rivalités, un côté chapelle politique où on regarde un peu trop ce que font les autres, s’ils sont dans la « ligne » ou pas. Ce n’était pas clairement dit, toutefois je le sentais (mon côté parano ?) et j’ai fini par m’éloigner du groupe. Je les voyais plonger complètement dans le mouvement punk, drogues dures comprises, et leur attitude agressive vis-à-vis de leurs employeurs temporaires (Libération), même si elle pouvait se justifier, était trop éloignée de mon caractère. J’avais besoin de stabilité à ce moment, de laisser tomber la défonce, les dealers, tous les problèmes... Et de me mettre à l’illustration de livres. J’ai été voir Robert Massin chez Gallimard, et j’ai commencé à faire des illustrations de couverture pour la collection Folio. J’étais parti à Londres où j’habitais chez des amis squatters, à Elephant & Castle. C’est lors d’un de ces voyages que j’ai rencontré ma première femme, déjà une Japonaise... On a vécu ensemble un peu et je l’ai rejointe au Japon. J’ai donc un peu perdu de vue mes copains de Bazooka, mais ces dernières années j'ai repris le contact, surtout avec Kiki, qui est vraiment un ami très proche. Je revois quelquefois Loulou Picasso, que j’admire depuis toujours énormément comme peintre.

Futuropolis édite Silence de Loulou Picasso au tout début des années 1980. Il y est question d’Iggy Pop, Howard Devoto, The Human League. Metal Machine Music est un disque culte à juste titre. Qu’écoutais-tu alors ? Du punk-rock ? De la musique industrielle ? Le Velvet Underground ?

A l’époque, on écoutait beaucoup le Velvet Underground, Lou Reed, Nico. Et puis Roxy Music, et surtout Brian Eno : j’aimais beaucoup ce qu’il faisait, le côté artiste, collage, expériences nouvelles. Je crois qu’il était étudiant en peinture avant de faire de la musique. Kiki Picasso revenait souvent avec des disques de jazz qu’il volait dans les bacs (c’était un grand cleptomane) : il travaillait en écoutant Art Blakey, les Jazz Messengers, Yusef Lateef, etc. Le père de Kiki avait été batteur dans un orchestre de jazz quand Kiki était petit. On écoutait aussi beaucoup de musique « planante » en fumant nos joints, et en descendant des litres de Coca-Cola. On aimait bien aussi la musique brésilienne (Jorge Ben, Baden Powell Astrud Gilberto, Sergio Mendes). Mais pour moi, mes plus grands souvenirs musicaux de cette époque sont l’album Another Green World de Brian Eno, certains morceaux de Roxy Music et l’album The End de Nico que j’ai entendu chez Loulou à Rouen le même weekend où j’ai vu pour la première fois des photos de bondage, chez Jean-Pierre Turmel (l’éditeur de Sordide Sentimental). Il avait acheté des revues américaines à un marchand de Soho, à Londres.

Assez rapidement semble-t-il, tu publies tes premiers livres aux Humanoïdes Associés puis chez Futuropolis, ouvrages quelque peu décalés par rapport à la bande dessinée d’alors (la collection conjointe Futuropolis / Gallimard n’existe pas encore), coincés entre la BD « traditionnelle » (Bilal, Tardi, etc.) et l’arrivée de gens plus « modernes » comme Bazooka, ceux de l’Art dégénéré, Pascal Doury, Bruno Richard…

Même si je vivais de l’illustration, j’essayais en même temps de sortir des livres personnels, dans ce milieu de la BD que je connaissais bien, ayant assisté aux débuts de Métal Hurlant (j’ai illustré la couverture du n° 16), et à ceux de Futuropolis. Au début des années 1970, tout le monde voulait sortir des collections un peu spéciales, et des amateurs montaient leurs propres petites maisons d’éditions. C’est ainsi que j’ai pu publier L’Art médical chez Temps Futurs, Femmes fatales chez Comixland, Tristes vacances chez Carton, Tokyo Girl chez Magic-Strip. Tous ces petits éditeurs ont cessé leurs activités depuis – et pas seulement à cause de moi ! Les gens comme Bruno Richard et Pascal Doury, eux, préféraient s'autoéditer, ou exceptionnellement être coédité par Étienne Robial de Futuropolis. Parfois les Humanos faisaient un album de Pascal Doury ou Olivia Clavel... Ils ne le feraient certainement plus maintenant, dans ces années de rigueur budgétaire et de retour à la BD historique, commerciale, et non artistique.

Comment travailles-tu ? À partir de photos de presse ? Arthur Fellig, le photographe noctambule américain, plus connu sous le pseudonyme Weegee, évoque forcément quelque chose pour toi…

Je travaille évidemment à partir de photos, mais si possible pas avec des documents connus. Quand j’ai fait un livre avec Marc Villard sur les faits divers américains (Cauchemars Climatisés chez Futuropolis), j’ai évité les photos de Weegee qui sont déjà des œuvres d’art et qui n’ont rien à gagner à être redessinées par un autre. Mais lors de mes séjours en Angleterre, j’avais accumulé une collection de vieux magazines sordides genre True Police, Police Dragnet, etc. (Jim Thompson, je crois, a écrit pour ce genre de revues), où les photos sont vraiment crades, avec un contraste très dur. Des éclairages qui donnent déjà un aspect graphique très fort – on ne sait plus faire ce genre de photos aujourd’hui… J’ai donc largement puisé à cette source d'images. Je travaille aussi d’après des photos de magazines trouvés dans les foires de « vieux papiers », sans compter les Paris Match qu’achetaient mes parents. Pour d'autres livres, comme Tristes vacances, ..., ..., ...

( Sordide Sentimental, par là )

9 notes · View notes

katefiction · 4 years ago

Note

"I just heard from Maria and she said YES to me posting her smut! We wore her down 😊😘" YES , bet thing to come online to !! THanks

😌 She promised to email them to me tomorrow and said these are what she definitely has

Black velvet (after the Millie awards)

One about when William was at in the military

Kate alone

In the highgrove swimming pool

Their first time together

An AU about an illicit meeting

After an argument (based on the LouLous car photos)

Which one shall I post first?

2 notes · View notes

dumpsterd1va · 5 years ago

Text

okay you know this video with the French guys and the kitten in the road? my heads been doing this thing lately where everything i see lately is andreil so uh... have this little fic based on that lmfao im so sorry

curiosity and the cat

Andrew Minyard had grown up learning to appreciate quiet spaces. The bleachers during 3rd period. The back shelves of the library. The park at 1 AM. He was never truly alone but it was enough to pretend that nothing else existed except him, the ground beneath his feet, and the sky above his head.

It wasn’t until he got his first car that he understood true solitude. Four walls, four wheels, two arms, two legs, a tank of gas that would take him anywhere, and endless stretches of road. He’d run the tank dry and then do it all over again. It didn’t matter if it was rush hour or the dead of night. Everyone else existed in their own metal cocoons, at a distance and irrelevant to him, and he existed in a space that was fully his. All his. If threads of promises unkept weren’t holding him back, Andrew sometimes thought he could go and never come back, living in his car and driving circles around the country until the inevitable.

He always came back though, to the makeshift home he and the only two people he permitted to call him family had made for themselves in Columbia, but when sleep refused him, he would drive for miles and miles on empty roads towards an empty head. The hour and destination didn’t matter, only the feeling of the road churning beneath his tires and the smooth leather of the steering wheel gliding against his palms.

For Andrew taking a long drive to nowhere was like getting a haircut or drinking a tall glass of water on a summer day, so it was no surprise that he found himself on a forested highway just after dawn, letting the frigid morning breeze tangle in his hair.

No, the surprise wasn’t the drive nor the time nor the place.

It was the kitten.

There was nothing notable about the beginning, but then again beginnings are never terribly interesting. It began with the neon glow of 4:36 stabbing his eyes through the dark, a low throb in the back of his head, a parched throat, sweat dripping down his back and pooling uncomfortably just above where his hips connected to the mattress. His sweaty clothes, his matted hair, and the damp sheets clung to him like old memories. He was shivering.

So he drove.

He drove and he kept driving, down abandoned freeways and up windy mountain roads. He stopped for a cigarette at the peak of one, leaning back on the hood of his car and watching the muted pinks of the waking sun struggle against the pitch of night.

The storm inside him stilled.

The drive back home wasn’t as lonely as the drive out, but by that time Andrew didn’t need the silence anymore. He zipped past cars, weaving in and out of the lanes, ignoring the belated honks and indignant faces reflected in his rear view mirror.

He was coming up behind a motorcycle now, but he didn’t bother to pass it. Passing a motorcycle always felt like issuing a challenge and it was one Andrew didn’t have the energy to follow up on.

Which was why he was on autopilot, windows rolled down, radio humming low, going at least 20 miles slower than normal when it happened.

The facts didn’t make themselves immediately apparent. A small lump illuminated by the haze of his headlights, a flash of orange, an impossibly tiny face. Andrew only had just enough time to process what he had seen when he pulled over to the shoulder with a jerk of the wheel that probably would’ve earned him another honk if there had been more people on the road.

He was already flinging his door open and jumping out before he could even think when he noticed someone running towards him. The motorcyclist ahead of him had parked too and was sprinting at impossible speeds towards and now past Andrew. He could hear the helmet rattling against their skull as they hurtled towards the tiny orange speck on the road.

Another car was speeding towards them, but the motorcyclist either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Slamming his door shut and running up the road, Andrew held his hand up in front of him, gesturing for the car to slow down before it killed them. Miraculously there was no honking, only a curious gaze at the strange scene unfolding on the highway at just past six in the morning.

The motorcyclist remained ignorant of Andrew saving their lives, crouching on the ground and scooping the kitten up, cooing sweet nothings.

“How’d you get here little one?” The voice that escaped the helmet was a warm tenor and just a bit hoarse. The motorcyclist was walking towards the shoulder now. “Ah, p’tit loulou, you couldn’t have gotten here on your own. Where are you from?”

For a brief moment, Andrew basked in that jittery butterflies in your stomach feeling of standing in the middle of a road before trailing behind the motorcyclist who was still making embarrassing noises at the cat.

As he got closer, Andrew actually heard something that echoed his own train of thought, “Who would fucking leave a kitten in the middle of the road?” The helmet was bowed down now, gloved hands scratching the kitten’s head. “Some asshole abandoned you… when you’re this tiny.” A defeated sigh. “I’d take you but Sir doesn’t take kindly to strange cats and I don’t wanna upset her, but I can’t just leave you here.”

“Stop whining and give me the damn cat.” The motorcyclist seemed to register his presence for the first time and that’s when Andrew realized he’d said that out loud.

“Really? You’ll take it?” The voice had brightened considerably and even through the tinted glass of the helmet, Andrew could see a smile.

Andrew shrugged and rubbed the kitten’s head right between the ears, its large eyes staring up at him as he did so. “Just another stray.”

“Thank you,” the motorcyclist said as the kitten transferred between their hands. “You take in stray cats often?”

“Not cats.”

Hands finally free, the motorcyclist ripped off the helmet and rested it against their side. “Oh, so dogs then?”

Andrew drank in the sweaty red hair that stuck up from the motorcyclist’s head like an explosion, the frigid blue eyes that were so clear they looked like glass, the elegant nose, the strong eyebrows, the thin lips, the freckled cheeks. All things that would have made a classic beauty, had it not been for a trail of thin scars and burn marks criss crossing through those striking features that revealed a life not easily lived. They took that face from classic to once in a lifetime.

“People.”

A quirked eyebrow. A relaxed smirk. “Is that so? I’m glad you have experience then.”

Andrew didn’t miss the sarcasm dripping from their voice like molasses. “Whatever I’m taking the cat.”

Hands raised in surrender. Eyes amused. “Hey, it—” A cursory glance. “Sorry, she’s all yours. You’re gonna want to get her checked out at the vet first though. Ringworm in kittens can be deadly. And super contagious.”

Andrew’s grip on the kitten must’ve tightened because she mewled with some discomfort. He loosened his hands and stroked her behind her ears.

“Hey,” the voice was softer now, velvet smooth. Blue eyes peered down at him through thick lashes. “I can help you make a drop in appointment. I just can’t risk possibly exposing my own cat to diseases. I’m probably already going to have to burn this whole outfit.” Taking in the worn jeans and the flaking leather jacket, Andrew didn’t think that’d be such a bad idea.

He said as much and earned himself an eye roll. “Sure, criticize the guy who’s trying to help you out.” Said guy rubbed a finger against the kitten’s face. “Be glad you’re so cute or I’d never go through all this trouble.”

Andrew had to agree.

Pulling an ancient phone out of his equally ancient pants pocket, Andrew’s second unexpected companion for the day pressed a few buttons before putting the phone to his ear. After a few rings he said, “Hi, I’d like to bring in a kitten I just found.” A beat of silence. “Not sure. Yeah.” His fingers idly stroked the kitten’s back. “Yes, I can be there in an hour. Tell the doctor it’s Neil Josten. Yep, thanks so much. Bye.”

Strapping his helmet back on, Neil said to Andrew, “Just follow me, I’ll take you to the clinic I take Sir to.”

They strode along the shoulder until they reached Andrew’s car. “Fine, but don’t pull any trick shit, I’m in a car remember?”

“From the way you were driving, I think you need to remind yourself first.”

Unlocking his car, Andrew sighed. Motorcyclists and their attitudes. “Hold this.” He handed over the kitten to Neil before yanking his sweatshirt off. He wrapped his hands in the hoodie before taking her back and swaddling her in it until only her face was showing.

“Oh, you’ll make a great cat mom.”

“Shut up.”

“Should I get you a baby on board sticker?”

“I will leave you and the disease carrier on the street to rot if you don’t quit it.”

An easy grin was hidden behind the helmet but Andrew managed to see it regardless. He chose to ignore it and instead clambered over the driver’s seat, setting the kitten on the ground on the passenger’s side. He slid the seat all the way up and found a few more discarded jackets for padding to prevent the kitten from sliding around. She was still gazing up at him with those huge eyes, but didn’t seem unhappy with the arrangement.

Giving her one last head scratch, he muttered. “If you even think about peeing or pooping or puking in here, I will toss you out the window.”

When he was satisfied, he turned back to Neil and said, “Lead the way.”

Neil’s expression was unreadable on the account of the helmet but the gentle tone of his voice was unmistakable when he murmured just loud enough for Andrew to hear, “I’m glad it was you.”

He walked off without another word and straddled his motorcycle, leaving Andrew to climb back into his car a little dazed.

Beginnings are boring. Monotone, colorless, unoriginal. But it only takes one change in routine, one chance encounter, to make a beginning move towards a different starting line. A new norm. It’s that shift between the old and the new when things really start to get interesting.

And on that particular morning, Andrew had not one but two surprises.

The kitten.

And Neil.

#andreil #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #maybe i'll continue this #i just needed to get it out of my head #havent really thought that far ahead lol #writing andrew thinking neil is hot makes me laugh #andrew: a literal poet #andrews mouth: die #i dont think i'll ever write not from andrews perspective because it amuses me so much #but sometimes its hard to balance him between all the asshole traits and the traits about him i love #me introducing andrew: he smokes and likes long drives and hates the world #also me: sounds like an asshole #also also me: HES MISUNDERSTOOD KAREN #my fic

68 notes · View notes

mistressdickens · 6 years ago

Photo

Damian Lewis and Helen McCrory attend the Charles Finch & Chanel pre-BAFTA's dinner at Loulou's on February 09, 2019

‘He wore greeeeen velvet’

#damian lewis #helen mccrory #bafta

26 notes · View notes

bettercallsabs · 6 years ago

Text

Falling For Crime 7

A/N: Surprise! I hope you enjoy. Tag list is open, so never miss a post!

Warnings: ummm, it’s a mob fic? Some fluff, some angst.

Series Masterlist

In the past few weeks, you found yourself spending more and more time with Steve. The two of you usually had breakfast together daily. you’d cook, as he sat in the kitchen keeping you company. Over breakfast you began to learn a lot about Steve. His favorite foods, music, books. It became more prominent over time, just how smart Steve actually was. You has always assumed he was more of a muscle and power, kind of guy, but your were quite wrong. Steve had such a flourishing business, not only because he was ruthless, determined, but because he was organized and logistical.

The more you got to know Steve, the more you genuinely liked him as a person. You hadn’t seen Bucky for weeks, and it worried you. You wanted terrible to ask Steve about him, but you were still working up the courage to ask...not knowing was getting the best of you.

“A Wednesday off? Are you sure?” You set the plates loaded with food onto the small kitchen table.

“Why not doll? We deserve a break don’t we?”

Steve looked down at his plate, his eyes widening with hunger. “I’m so glad packaged bacon exists now.” Steve muttered as he took a piece of bacon from the plate, staring at it in admiration, before shoving the entire piece into is mouth. “With you’re cooking, I’m going to gain 40 pounds.” You chuckled, taking your seat across from Steve, cutting into your codfish cake.

“You workout too much for that. Now, Stop working out... and you surely will.” Thoughts of a large bellied Steve flooded your mind, a wide smile spreading across your mouth as you giggled to yourself.

“Well, I better keep up the workouts then.” Steve said in between bites. “So, what should we do today doll?

“Not to sound cliche,” you paused, taking another bite of your codfish cake. “but a walk in Central Park seems like a dream. Now. that the snow has melted and the flowers are in full bloom, I’d really love to see it. And Bucky had mentioned this delicious ice cream cart that pops up around this time of year. Do you know of it?”

“Can’t say that I do, doll.”

“Maybe we could ask Bucky? I haven’t seen him in a while and-“ Steve stood abruptly from his chair, the silverware clashing against the ceramic plate.

“Not today doll, he’s busy.” His tone was evasive, giving no further information on the subject. An awkward silence hung in the air, as you both waited to see he would speak first.

“Best get ready. I have a few things to sort before we leave. Thanks for breakfast.” Steve’s demeanor was cold, as he left the kitchen in a huff.

In that moment, it became exceedingly clear that Steve knew exactly what had transpired between you and Bucky.

—

Walking the path through Central Park, you felt transcended into another plane. The foliage was so green and lush, flowering with beautiful shades of pinks, violets, and reds.

“It’s so beautiful here Steve. A little blip of paradise in the center of the city.” You danced and swayed, enjoying the light breeze as it caressed your bare legs.

Steve watched you with adoring eyes, completely mesmerized by your free spirited nature. “It is beautiful, just like you.” You felt your face flooding with heat. Even after all of this time, his compliments made you flustered.

Steve reached out for your hand, intertwining your fingers in his.

“I want to show you something.” A mysterious tone playing in Steve’s voice.

You walked for what felt like hours, the anticipation of surprise causing you patience to be nonexistent.

Approaching on the grounds of small castle, your mind was baffled. Your jaw dropped, A castle in the middle of Central Park? The stone structure was surrounded by lush grew foliage and an assortment of bright colored flowers. It was truly a sight to behold.

Releasing your hand from Steve’s grasp, you walked forward, into the miniature courtyard.

“This.. this is amazing. This architecture- wow.”

“Care to take a look inside?”

“Can we really?”

Taking your hand back in his, Steve smiled as he coaxed you into the Castle. You felt like you were living a fairytale. How had you never known this was here? After touring the castle, you thought it couldn’t get any better. Today had already been a dream come true, and so much more.

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it, doll.”

Closing your eyes, you squeezed them tightly shut. Your heart raced in anticipation, as you racked your brain for what was in store. What the hell was Steve up to?

“Open your eyes.” Slowly opening your eyes, your jaw dropped. A plaid blanket, topped with a picnic basket, a bucket of ice chilling a bottle of champagne amongst its cubes, surrounded my a field of yellow and pink tulips.

“Steve...” you could barely speak his name as you choked back tears.

“Do you like it?” Steve’s voice was different... he sounded, vulnerable?

“Steve, this is absolutely beautiful.” He smiled at you. For the first time ever, his smile was pure, as it spread to his sparkling blue eyes.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? No, I love it! Seriously, this is like nothing I’ve seen before.”

Sitting on the blanket, you enjoyed a unique cheese and fruit platter, as you and Steve talked and laughed amongst the tulips. This was really one of the most amazing days of your life.

“People actually like this cheese?” You crinkled your node at the look and smell of the blue cheese. “It’s smells horrendous.”

“My father loved the stuffed. Me? Not so much.” Steve laughed as he chucked the cheese out into the field.

“Today’s been lovely Steve. An absolute dream.”

“I’ve really enjoyed myself today, with you.” Looking down at his watch, Steve looked back at you with a giddy grin. “I just have one last favor to ask.”

“For you, Anything.”

“Stand right here.” Steve helped you to your feet, as a placed a soft kiss on top of your hand. “And close your eyes.” This time you didn’t question him. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in and out.

“Okay, open them.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hands shot to your mouth, gasping, as you looked down at Steve, who was knelt on one knee, a dark maroon velvet box, resting in his hand. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t form a single word, your entire self was aghast. You were overwhelmed with an assortment of emotions. A part of your was horrified yet thrilled.

“Doll, these last few months have been, well, anything but ordinary. Since you first caught my eye, standing in front of that hotel, I been so enamored with you. You have filled life to me again. Brought me happiness I never thought I’d feel. You’re a my dream come true. Miss Y/F/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears stung your eyes, as he flipped the box open to reveal the most extravagant ring you had ever seen. The shield style band was adorned with a large, old European cut diamonds, that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

You didn’t know what to say, Steve made you happy, he went out of his way to keep you in New York, shown you a life you could have only ever dreamed of... a flicker of Bucky flooded your mind. Bucky... no. Bucky is just a friend, you told yourself. He could never be more, and you knew that.

“Yes!” You managed to squeak out.

Steve swooped you into his arms, twirling you around, until you both collapsed to the ground from dizziness.

Steve gazed at you lovingly, holding your face in his palms, his thumb lightly brushing against your warm cheeks.

“I love you y/n.” The words were like honey as the spilled off his tongue, making your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, his lips enveloped yours in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too Steve.” The strangest part of saying those words, was you meant it.

“Ahem, boss, sorry to interrupt the moment, but you summoned for me?” You looked up to see to see a familiar face standing a few feet from where you laid, wrapped in Steve’s embrace. Bucky.

“Bucky.” You felt all of the color leave your face as you looked up to him. His usually happy blue eyes were sullen, making your heart sink in your chest. Moments ago you felt beyond elated, but now... all you felt was guilt.

“Ah Bucky you made it. I wanted today to be absolutely perfect, so I brought Bucky back to find that ice cream you wanted to try. Did you find it Bucky?”

“Yes boss. He’s here now, just over the bridge.”

“Perfect! shall we?”

Hopping to his feet, in an overly chipper mood, Steve pulled you to your feet, planting a quick kiss on your lips. You felt strange kissing Steve in front of Bucky, making your stomach churn.

“Congratulations I’m your engagement. I hope you to will be happy together.” Bucky didn’t meet either of your gazes, as you congratulated the two of you. Something in his voice sounded... bitter and angry.

“Oh, you saw all that?” Steve acted surprised, but something about his words didn’t seem right... “Thanks Buck. I really appreciate it. Ready to get some ice cream, and start our venture homeward?”

You couldn’t contain your excitement. You were a sucker for ice cream, and if it was as good as Bucky had been boasting about, you couldn’t wait to taste it.

“Most definitely!”

——

Sitting onto your bed, grabbing the candle stick phone from the end table, you quickly phoned for your sister.

“Hello?”

“Walt, I need to talk to Louise immediately! It’s an emergency.”

“She’s in the bath now. I can have her phone you back as soon as she’s out.”

“Please do. And don’t forget to relay the urgency of it! If I have to wait much longer, I might burst.”

“You could tell me if you would like.”

“Oh Walt, you are too kind. But if I told you before LouLou, she’d sure kill us both. Now, tell her to hurry her bath. Thank you Walt.”

Hanging up the phone, you fell back onto your bed. You truly did feel as if you were mere seconds from bursting.

Your tried to busy your mind for the time being by reorganizing your closet. You began sorting through your dresses, organizing them according, to length color and fabric. After you completed that, you tasked yourself with sorting your footwear.

When the phone rang, you tossed the pair of heels on your hands, and bolted for the phone.

“Hello? LouLou? Is that you?”

“Y/n, what’s so important that I cut my bath short?”

“LouLou! Steve proposed! We were in the gardens of the castle in Central Park- thanks for telling me about that castle by the way, not- but he proposed! And the ring-“

“Slow down! Christ! Let me process a moment! Now, he what? He proposed? Are you serious? Y/N, I swear if you’re making fun right now-“

“I’m not, I swear! I’m being honest.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“What?”

“Oh my goodness Y/N! Don’t be daft! Did you say yes?”

“Yes. Yes I said yes.” The line went silent for a moment, causing your heart to race even more.

“LouLou?”

“Sorry, I was screaming. I’m excited for you! We are meeting for breakfast tomorrow. 9am sharp. I want all the details!" You shrieked with joy, pleased to hear your sister have a pleasant reaction to the news.

“Sounds great. I love you LouLou!

“I love you to sissy! Congratulations. And I’ll see in the morning. Try and get some sleep, will you?”

“I will try my best.”

“Talk soon.”

Hanging up the phone, you felt a giant weight lifted off your shoulders, until you remembered... your parents...

Shit.

—-

“Let me see it one more time.”

Holding out your hand, Louise took it in hers as she gawked over the rock on your finger.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m envious. That must have costs thousands of dollars! More than my house! You’re so lucky y/n.”

Pulling your hand back, you hunched in your chair. “I’m just worried about mom and Dad. They seem to like Steve enough... I don’t know.”

“Im confident they’ll support it. Steve has the means to keep you safe, and give you the best life... I think. I mean you haven’t been caught up in any of the...” bringing her time to a whisper, your sister leaned in closer to you before finishing her sentence. “Mob business? You aren’t a criminal now, right?”

“Absolutely not!” You may have been engaged to a criminal, but you differently weren’t one... were you?

——

Knock, knock.

“Hey Steve, can I come in?” You stood in the doorway of his study, as Steve sat behind his desk, papers sprawled before him. Looking up from his work, he greeted you with a smile.

“Of course doll. come, take a seat. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes. I could definitely use one to settle the nerves.” Steve poured two glasses of whiskey, neat, as you took a seat.

“What’s got you so worked up doll?”

“My parents... I’m nervous of how they’ll react... to this.” You held up your hand, gesturing to the ring.

“Don’t fret doll, I already talked to them.” Steve said nonchalantly, as he handed you your drink.

“You what?”

“I asked for your father’s permission before I asked you, doll. So you needn’t worry your pretty little head. They were more than happy when we spoke. Although, I’m sure your mom is dying to hear about the proposal.”

“Oh god, you’re right. I’m going to go call her. I’m taking my drink!” You took a long sip from your drink before taking a stand and heading for the door. “Thank you Steve.”

“You’re welcome doll.”

——

3 weeks of being engaged to Steve may have been the craziest time of your life. Telling your family was by far, the easiest of all. Everyone was seemed so happy for you. Except Bucky. On the night of yours and Steve’s engagement party, you caught Bucky’s side glances towards Steve. They way he looked at him scared you, made you fear for Steve’s life.

As Steve mingled amongst friends and colleagues, you grabbed Bucky by the arm, pulling him aside, out of sight. “What the hell is your problem, Bucky?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n.”

“Like hell you don’t. The way you’ve acting, rude to me, and I’ve seen the way you look at Steve.”

“I don’t have time for this y/n, please get out of my way.” Bucky moved to get around you, but you stepped in front of him once again. “Bucky please, just talk to me.” You gently placed your hand on his forearm, begging him to talk with you.

“I love you. And Steve, he.. he ruined everything..” You didn’t know what to say, the proper way to respond. You mind was raising trying to put the pieces together of what was just said. Bucky... how could... he loved you? He was just joking, he couldn’t possibly love you... He cup your face in his hand, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. God, you missed his touch.

“Y/N. I love you so much, you are the most beautiful thing in the world to me . You can’t marry him. I-“

“Bucky Stop.” The tears stung your eyes as they began to trickle from your eyes, as you removed his hand from your cheek, taking a few steps back from him. This man, standing before you... you loved him too. But you also loved Steve. Your heart began to ache, your emotions playing in all different directions.

“Doll?. Turning hot on your heels, Steve now stood before you. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” His attention now diverting to Bucky. “You just don’t like to listen do you? When did you become so uncompliant?” Steve was uncannily calm, and it terrified you. Now, you feared for Bucky’s life.

“Steve, I asked to talk with him, it wasn’t his fault. He tried to walk away, but I wouldn’t let him. I just wanted to know why he’s been away so much. I know it’s because you guys are still seeking vengeance on my assailants. I can’t thank you enough for that. You work so hard to protect me, and take care of me. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” Linking your arm in his, with your free arm, you wiped the tears from your face. “Let’s get back to the party. Everyone is here to see us after all.” You could feel Steve’s body beginning to ease, against yours, as you made your way back into the ballroom area. You stole a quick glance at Bucky as you and Steve walked away, a single tear falling slowly from his eye.

I’m so sorry.

FOREVER TAGS: : @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @itsanerdlife @sea040561 @dsakita

FFC TAGS: @m4shtyx @villainsaremorerelatable @flashfanfics @palebun-16 @thiskatistoospooky @bloodiedskirtts @queen-of-elves @rainbowkisses31

53 notes · View notes