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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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“Winter’s Gem” (Sneakpeak) (Bucky Barnes AU SERIES)

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been scouted by your boss in Felicity Night, you were just a mere young, cleaner in Felicity night and have been living in the basement of the club for all your life. He's the most wanted Gigolo in the city, and taking him away from eager, thirsty women seemed to be impossible especially if he chose to be a Gigolo as his way of living.

Warning: There are NSFW parts in this AU, Kinda angsty, Parent to child type of physical abuse, 10-15 years of age gap but not entirely the type of age gaps that can be considered creepy, kinda slow burn. As of the moment, this chapter has curse words and mentions of sex.

Words: 2,681

A/N: This plot wasn't really exactly for Bucky to be honest. This has been in my drafts in Wattpad and I decided to just make it a Bucky Barnes AU instead. Let me know what y'all think, Tater tots! THIS IS A SERIES.

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits aren't mine. Only the edits and the entire AU of course. 😊

Dedicated to: @anxiousamandapanda - Yo, buddy! I dedicate this to ya’ because you have been my first friend in here! Love ya!

It was evening where the sun finally sets whereas criminality most likely happens every time it reaches dawn. In a positive addition to that was the beautiful time of the day where sexy, ripped men began swaying their glorious and perfectly built topless, sweaty and greasy bodies accompanied with the slow music echoing around the area that comes with their performance.

Groups of aging women were sitting at a wooden round table, eyeing different gorgeous races of strippers like they were their preys while throwing a bunch of cash on stage. They were having at least some fun before their adulterated single-nights end. Their spouses were probably sleeping like a dead man at home or maybe even doing the same thing behind their backs.

The scene where older, depressed, needy, hungry ladies..and even men who were women at heart were pinning their dollars down on a man's underwear. It looked excruciating to some person who isn't used to seeing that. Hungry women were even using their paper bills as a towel, wiping their bills off the stripper's rock hard muscles before slipping it in the waistbands of their underwear. You've been immune to cringing, Not because the stripper named Drax was teasing the ladies that he was about to take his black underwear off, accompanied with his gray waterproof body paint sticking on his skin. The scene in front of you was normal in your daily life and you were totally used to it. You were used to Drax's set anyways.

The sexy bald headed Drax appeared to be enticing a 40 year old dark haired woman who slipped stacks of bills on his waistband. He gave her a slow body wave, taking her hand as he gave her the permission to touch, directing her hand on his very prominent pectorals before gradually sliding them down.

Woman with a dark hair couldn't control the felicity she felt, her facial features telling her group of friends how she was lucky enough to get a touch of his sweaty torso...Once her hand was close to his lower abdomen, Drax still holding on to his indescribable, cold features..He quickly backed away from the woman and continued stripping his way towards the pole.

Every woman squealed when Drax took his underwear off. You thought it would only be a tease, turns out he went all the way tonight.

You sighed, ignoring the women disrespectfully walking from where you were just mopping, you continued cleaning the tiled floor. Dipped your mop in the dirty yellow bucket of floating germs. Everybody's footwear were squeaking as they passed by your wet floor that hasn't been dried up yet. These women don't bother reading the warning sign that was blocking their way and you tutted to yourself before you continued to work.

"Oi! You dirty scum! Mop this barf, Will ya'?!" A middle aged woman wearing a displeasing floral and sparkly dress pointed at the splattered barf that was disgustingly laying in front of her foot. She hollered, rudely demanding you to clean the mess that her friend did. The woman even whistled for you to come over like you were a dog that she owned.

You hid a scorn beneath the scowl of your lips. Deliberately walking towards her and rigidly mopping the vomit off the floor. Some barf residues accidentally flew towards her expensive and newly designed looking sandals. 'Oh no.' Before you could even apologize to the woman, her veiny and calloused hand struck your face with a hard, rough slap.

The slap was quite similar to your mother's hand, even though it wasn't actually your mother's.

Your left ribs stung painfully as it suddenly hit an empty table from the strong impact, but you were used to this. You should be. You were used to all the violence that every human can take and give.

"You idiot! You had only one job but what the hell happened?! My Chanel shoes is now ruined! You stupid bitch! You're a worthless cunt!"

You stood up like nothing happened, ignoring the stingy slap that was now lingering your right cheek. You still sent her an apology, but you didn't bother cleaning her shoes. She could get that cleaned up on her own or if she's really a Germophobe then she could just buy another new one.

Rich, arrogant people could have every thing in the world in just a snap of their fingers. You weren't an idiot who would beg on your knees just for her to forgive you. She wasn't worth an apology, a wholehearted apology. It was just an accident, and by the looks of her face? She was far more intoxicated from swaying around like a drunkard and you didn't want to earn another hit even though you were used to the pain of being beaten.

You were quick to carry the pail of dirty water and your mop before going to the bathroom with a stingy red hand print on your face. You didn't mind it at all as you passed by a mirror, completely blocking out those continuous moaning from one of the women's cubicle. Play it cool, Y/N. Play it cool.

The thought of calling Bucky was distracting your mind while you were pouring the pail of gross vomit and dirt in one of the sinks. If you call him, Will he stop whatever he's doing for you? Or who ever he's doing? He told you to call him whenever you needed him or whenever you're lonely, depressed or hurt. You're physically hurt right now. Does it count?

You both only have each other. There's a reason why you were being dependent towards him. Your mother didn't have an ounce of care towards you plus your father was probably dead anyways. You found the warmth that you wanted and needed from him. Only him, only from Bucky.

You brought the mop back to its proper place, at the farthest end of the bathroom before dialing your speed call. He told you to do it, so you could call him urgently when you're in danger and you quickly did since you always do listen to what he says.

"Oh my God!" You heard a voice of a woman who was moaning in pleasure. Your face contorted in discomfort, resulting to a cringe that probably looked hilarious on another person's point of view. The moans you've heard that was coming from that certain woman in one of the cubicles finally came to halt, was she pleasuring herself? you couldn't hear any moans besides hers.

You were planning on barging in and singing 'Gorilla' on her face since she was being too noisy for her own good. Oh, The man that she's with got himself an old screamer, if there was even a man with her, you were lost in your train of thoughts.

She was loudly pounding the locked up door while she was being fucked, and you were fighting off a loud laugh as to how this woman was reacting to sex. It was like she had the greatest 'fondue' for her entire life..or it's maybe because the sex was too good for her to handle?

You quietly chuckled it off, shaking your head in disbelief as you brought your phone to your ear, the phone rang and you were eager and excited to hear his voice. You're tapping your finger on the marbled sink, your reflection distracting you from your reverie. Your lips turned into a frown, loud insults of yourself kept on barging inside of your head. All you can see was a flawed, hideous ugly woman dressed in plain blue jeans with a plain black shirt that wasn't fitted for you. Obviously, It wasn't your size and the shirt was definitely not yours because it was from Bucky.

Those scars that were evident on your face were the proofs from your tough battles. Those are the memories from your horrible past that you overcame, and you were proud to have it since Bucky told you that it simply shows how strong of a woman you are in life. Every scar was a downfall. But, Those downfalls were brought to the top by him. Only him. To make it short, he was simply the strength to your weaknesses.

It rang for the fifth time and you were cringing at the thought that maybe he's 'busy' with his latest customer. You were about to end the call, until the man that you were dying to hear from finally answered.

"You okay, Doll?" He rasped quietly, voice laced with worry and care.

Bucky was always quick to ask that question every time he answers the phone. Your heart flattered as you could hear how worried he is, and you couldn't help but truthfully answer him back with a smile on your face.

"No. I miss you..Can you be with me right now?"

"Of course. I'll be there in a jiffy, Doll. Just give me a second,"

A grin formed on your face and it couldn't help but make your heart flutter in the most extreme. Your index finger traveled up the mirror as you touched it, noting how dirty it already was. You reminded yourself that you needed to clean the bathroom when the club closes.

You smiled alone, daydreaming about Bucky..Whenever you needed someone, he has always been there to save you. Always.

"Do you even know where I am, Bucky?"

"That's why I was asking you, Y/N. Tell me where you are and I'll be there quick--you're going? That fast? That was just a quickie!"

You heard the love of your life spoke as a woman's voice piped in from the other line of the call before it ended in a echo, you couldn't help but feel the familiar pain inside your heart as you knew that you were sharing him with other married, divorced, horny, and needy women that were obviously older and richer than you.

Your mind does always question your heart if you could still handle the pain? Can you? Are you strong enough to handle the pain when you're still fragile enough to break in just one touch?

He's your everything. He's the reason you stay alive.

You're wholly his, His heart is yours. But, his body..his body wasn't only for yourself.

Mind, Heart, Body and Soul. Those four constituents were partners in crime with love. You have his mind and heart, yet his body isn't yours. You share it with other hungry hunters that ought to have a taste. Now, you understood how lions and tigers were fast in hunting their preys since it would be unsatisfying if their prey was to be snatched by another.

And his soul? His soul was signed by the devil.

But, you didn't care. You always tell yourself that you didn't care. Bucky was still yours to love.

You heard the creak of a cubicle door as your eyes lit up from staring at the sink. Seeing a woman in her 40's came out with a disheveled hair, an obvious tight Botox that outdid her face and a tight, red dress that was up to her thighs as it was hung a little. The woman didn't look like she was in her 40's. She looked ten years younger. You were too good at realizing her age in just one look of her tight pretty, rich face.

She was grinning and smiling, looking like she was in her own precious little bubble. The smile was showing how she loved every bit of what happened and you couldn't help but shake your head in disappointment. You remembered that this woman had a husband since you saw her in a mall the other day, walking arm in arm together with her bald, big belly of a husband that looked rich as hell.

Her smile faded into a frown as a sudden realization hit her.

"I payed for you! For a night! The whole night! Not just for a quick fuck in the bathroom!"

"Well, Ma'am.. Your payment is not enough to have my whole night. You know I cost higher than any other gigolos out here! Why don't you just come back some other time,"

The woman's eyes sparkled in joy and you finally turned your back to see her face to face. You were a noticeable eavesdropper at the moment. Your eyebrows were furrowed, you knew that voice. The man she was having some intense and intimate moment had his broad, ripped back at you. You had a feeling it was Steve or Sam But, deep inside..you knew you're trying to act oblivious and stupid as a painful sight before you was beginning to unfold.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"No. Find another available fucker. I don't spend the night on another woman's bed.." He shook his head in disdain, appearing to fumble with the zipper of his slacks. "Not anymore,"

"But, I only want you!"

"I don't care who you want, need, or anything your lust says, Mrs. Williams. I'm not available, nor will you have the chance to have me again. Do I make myself clear?" The man in a black crisp suit snapped and surly sneered. He spun around, deciding to leave the aging, absent-minded woman alone. But he stopped and stared. The dazzling blue eyes that you've manage to love waking up to every morning lost its hostility, quickly changing to a loving but stupefied look.

"Sugar?"

You were lying to yourself. You knew it wasn't Steve nor Sam or any other gigolo. That man's voice only belonged to the man you gave your heart, mind, body and soul.

It was your Bucky.

The man who owns you. But, sold his body to women who wanted him.

You wanted to be selfish, but you can't. You couldn't. It was his way of living and you have no choice but to accept that.

You didn't even know if you could still handle the love of your life in being the most requested Gigolo in this club that both you and your mother works in. You were no sugar mama, so you couldn't help him pay what he needed and wanted in life. You were only a mere janitor living in the basements of the club you were in.

What you've tasted, these hungry pussies have already tasted it too. What you touch, hug, kiss and adore..

Well, you bet they already did everything with him too.

Nevertheless, you weren't one who won't be putting up a fight to let them know who he rightfully belongs to because you would and you will.

He was yours and yours alone. You already had that scribbled upon your grave.

This is just a sneakpeak or like an introduction to the series. IF YA WANNA BE INCLUDED IN THE TAGLIST, SEND ME AN ASK. Or just turn on the notification button for my blog so y’all will see every update I post. This can be quite a rollercoaster ride, alright? Hehehe!

XOXO, TATA

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allhailkingrooker51 · 5 years ago

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Sooo, I got Rookered again...

Soooo, I got Rookered again. This time at Geek’d Con in Shreveport, La. And just like the 1st time I saw Rooker, this time was just as amazing. I went up to see him several times each day resulting in some pretty epic Rooker moments, and I'm gonna try my hardest to remember every detail. So, without further ado, here’s the story of my 2nd adventure with the Rooker.

A little intro before I get to the good stuff.

First off, y’all have no idea how stoked I was that Rooker was coming to Shreveport! I was afraid I wasn’t gonna get to see him this year. He wasn’t coming to a con anywhere near me, and it’s an act of Congress for me to take off work to be able to travel to him. Geek’d Con was pretty much my last chance.

I had been watching Geek’d Con’s Facebook like a hawk hoping there might be a slim chance they would announce Rooker. Then they started hinting and dropping clues for about a month that they had their biggest guest so far coming this year. And every hint pointed directly to Rooker. I knew it had to be him.

One night, Geek’d Con posted on their Facebook page the last clue and that they would be announcing the guest at 8 am the next morning. I hardly slept a wink that night. I was too excited and failing miserably at trying not to get my hopes up. Geek’d Con is not a big con, and even though Rooker likes Shreveport, I was afraid that it might be too small of a con for him to come to.

Morning finally came, and I was awake way before my alarm. I decided to get up and go into work early to wait for the announcement. It’s not like I was sleeping anyways. This next part might be a little too much info and a little weird, but I’m gonna tell it anyway. While using my body wash in the shower that morning, a little bubble came out of the bottle and floated up in front of my face. I blew on it a couple of times, just playing around, and watched the bubble drift higher in the air. Then I followed it as it came back down again in front of my face, made a quick turn to my left, went around to my side, and landed smack dab on the cheek of my Rooker Skillset portrait tattoo on my left arm. That bubble was like a Rooker heat-seeking missile, making a bee-line straight for him. I took that as a sign. It had to be Rooker.

I finished getting ready for work and at 8 am on the dot, I checked Facebook. No announcement yet. I kept refreshing Geek’d Con’s page over and over again like a lunatic. I swear it felt like an eternity. Then at 8:03, I refreshed the page once again, and I saw Yondu. My heart flipped, and I damn near dropped my phone. Rooker was coming to Geek’d Con!

I immediately took a screenshot, and with my hands shaking like crazy, told the Rooker Hookers first. Then I texted my sister, my mom, my best friend, hell anyone that I could that Rooker was coming to Shreveport. I couldn’t stop smiling. For once, I was actually excited going to work.

When I got to work, I showed my boss, who is also one of my best friends and who has to put up with my Rooker obsession more than anyone. He was excited for me, and I convinced him to come meet him, too.

So for the next 4 months, I waited and waited and waited for Geek’d Con to get here. I ordered Rooker’s gifts, designed a special shirt to wear that Saturday, printed out some goofy Rooker pictures for him to sign, even had Rooker socks made. When August 16th, finally arrived, I was ready.

Friday, August 16th, 2019

Geek’d Con was only open from 6 pm to 9 pm that Friday, but I had been told that Rooker would be there all 3 days, which meant I would be there all 3 days. So I took off work early and drove the almost 2 hours to my parent’s house, who live just outside of Shreveport. I had been a nervous wreck all week. I guess I was a little nervous about seeing Rooker again, but mostly I was nervous about getting all the gifts I had planned on giving him through security.

I had to get into town early because I had a few errands to run before I picked up my friend, who had also gone with me to see Rooker in Houston last year. One of the errands was picking up some dark chocolate-covered pretzels that I had ordered just for Rooker at a local chocolate store in town. I hadn’t planned on bringing him pretzels since he gets those at cons all the time, but these were dark chocolate which I knew he liked the best. And, boy, am I glad I decided to get them!

I picked my friend up a little later, and we headed up to the convention center. I wore one of my Rowdy Burns shirts and one of the pairs of socks I had made with Rooker’s face all over them (I had 4 pair, and I mixed and matched them each day, and of course, forgot to show Rooker any of them...AARRGH.) That line getting in couldn’t go fast enough. I was so excited to see him again!

Again, my only worry was getting through security with Rooker's gift. I’ll get to what the gift was a little later on, but the closer we got to bag check, the more anxious I got. Luckily, we made it through without any problems.

We headed inside and walked towards the back and found Rooker’s table. He wasn’t out yet. No biggie. The doors had only been open about 30 minutes or so. We walked around a little, and then found a table near Rooker’s booth. We decided to just sit and wait until he came out. Seven o’clock came. No Rooker. Eight o’clock came. Still no Rooker. At 8:40, they announced there were 20 minutes left before closing. We headed out after that. I admit I was bummed that he wasn’t there, but that just meant I’d have to go see him extra the next day.

Saturday, August 17, 2019

Saturday morning, I was up and at ‘em early again. My racing brain wouldn’t let me sleep. But, I had to be up early anyway to go pick up the rest of Rooker’s gift for that day before the con opened at 10 am.

I had decided a while back that on the Saturday morning of the con, I was going to bring him a bunch of snacks, some from local places around town. The pretzels and a bag of Zapp's Voodoo chips were a part of that, but I still had two more things to get.

I picked up my friend again and headed to a bakery that I swear makes the best cakes in the world and picked up the little, mini red velvet cake I had ordered for him. We left there and drove alllll the way across town to get Rooker some donuts from Southern Maid (if you ever get the chance, definitely get donuts from there - they're not fancy but seriously they’re the best ever).

When we got to the convention center, I put all of his snacks in a gift bag (with the no outside food/drink rule, I figured there was a better chance getting it all through security if it looked like an actual gift). And it worked! The snacks and the other gift made it through! My nerves instantly calmed, and I was home free to finally see the Rooker.

We immediately went towards the back to his booth, but he wasn’t out yet. There were a good many people already waiting for him, but I didn’t want to get in line just yet. I was hoping the crowd would kind of lessen just a little first so I would have some time to explain all the stuff I brought him. We sat down at the same table as the night before and waited. About 30 minutes later, there he was!

Omg, I was so excited to see him! He was wearing black jeans, a black shirt, and his Atlanta Metro Studios cap. And no shades! Which is very important when one of your favorite things about Rooker is those damn eyes of his.

We waited about 10 more minutes, but the line never got smaller. I decided it was now or never and went to get in line.

While we were waiting in line, there was a person in an inflatable T-Rex costume nearby that had a sign for “Free Hugs". You probably already know what happened when Rooker saw it. He escaped from his table and hugged that T-Rex so hard his cap fell off.

When we finally got to his helper, she noticed the shirt I was wearing and busted out laughing and took a picture of it. I was hoping Rooker would have the same reaction.

The person in front of me finally got through, and it..was..my..turn. Surprisingly, I was still very calm. I walked up to Rooker and said, “Hey, Rooker, you remember me?” He said, “I do!” I put the gift bag of snacks and his other gift on the table in front of him and he busted out laughing.

“What is all this?!”

“I brought you a bunch of snacks in case they don't feed you good here.”

I started to tell him what was in the bag and that's when he noticed my shirt. Awhile back when Rooker had first started growing his hair out again, Sean Gunn had posted a picture of Rooker with his hair all crazy and called him an “international sex symbol” in the caption. So, naturally, I had that same picture printed on a shirt with the same caption. He laughed when he saw it and said, “Ya' know, not many men can pull off that look.” He took his cap off and started pulling his hair in all directions. His curls were a little wild. I said, “I know, but you pull it off really well.” He was still playing with his curls and I wanted to touch his hair so bad. So I went for it. I said, “Can I touch ‘em, I gotta touch ‘em, Rooker.” He leaned over and I grabbed a handful of his hair. It's so soft, y'all!

After the hair touching moment, we went back to discussing his snacks. I said, “I brought you some of the best donuts in the world and…” That’s when he saw a fork in the bag and asked what it was for. “For this.” I pulled out the little mini cake and told him it was red velvet (which I had read a long time ago was his favorite). Y'all he smiled and laughed the whole time.

He immediately came around the table and gave me a huge hug and said I was too sweet always bringing him stuff. Then it just kind of slipped out of my mouth. I didn’t even realize I had said it ‘til it was too late. As he's still hugging me and telling me how nice I am and that I don't have to bring him stuff, I said “Well, I love you, Rooker. You’re my favorite person in the world.” Good God, I told Michael Rooker I loved him to his face. And I don’t really say that to anybody. Looking back now, though, I'm glad I did. That man makes my world go round, and I want him to know that.

After he hugged me and still laughing, he walked over to my friend, grabbed her face in his hands, and said “She always like this? Bringing presents and stuff?” She said yes and Rooker laughed again.

I went over to the bag and pulled out the little box of chocolate covered pretzels. I said,” Look, Rooker, I wasn’t gonna bring you pretzels ‘cause I know you get them all the time, but these are dark chocolate ones I had made especially for you."

He grabbed the box, opened it, held it out for the people in line to see and said, “Aww, look everyone.” That's when one of the best things that's ever happened to me happened.

Rooker took one of the pretzels and held it up to my mouth for me to take a bite. Unfortunately, I had just gotten a piece of mint gum from my friend not 10 minutes earlier.

I said, “Ew, Rooker, no I have gum.”

I shoulda known Rooker wasn’t gonna take ‘no' for an answer.

He grinned and pushed the pretzel further towards my mouth, "Take a bite.”

So I did.

As soon as my mouth touched that pretzel, he leaned in and took a bite out of the other side at the same time. We ‘Lady and the Tramp'd’ that pretzel. His mouth was like inches away from mine. Gotta admit, I was a little shocked, but I laughed, he laughed, hell his whole line was laughing. I'm sure my face was redder than a tomato.

As I’m still chewing the now disgusting combination of chocolate pretzel and mint gum growing into an oddly textured rubbery substance in my mouth, he says “Here, lemme have it" and he holds his hand out for me to..spit..my..gum..out..in..his..hand.

I said, “Ew, Rooker, I'm not gonna do that …it’s ok, I'll suffer.” He laughed again.

Still trying to recover from that moment, I realized I still hadn’t shown him his other gift. We walked closer to the table, and he said, “What is this?” I said, “You remember last year I gave you the shot glass?” He said yes. I opened the box and said, “Well, I got you these to kind of go with it.” This time I had gotten him two whiskey glasses made with .45 caliber bullets molded into the side (hence the reason I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get them through security). On one glass, I had “I'm Mary Poppins, Y'all!” etched, and the other with an ‘R' and ‘Rooker’. He loved them. He said they were beautiful and took each one out and showed it to everybody. He looked at me and said, “At least they’re .45s. That's the only thing that'll stop a Jack and Coke.” He made himself giggle. It was great.

He ended up giving me like a gazillion hugs the whole time and then told me that I got to pick out a picture for him to sign.

I laughed and said, “No, it's ok, Rooker. I don't bring you stuff to get free autographs. I have some stuff for you to sign in my bag anyway so I'll be back in a little while. You know you gotta put up with me all weekend.”

He laughed again and before I walked away, I lifted up my sleeve and asked him if he remembered my “Sexy Thanos" tattoo as he called it last time. He said, “Yeah, I remember and that ain’t sexy Thanos, that's sexy Rooker.”

I don’t think I could have smiled any bigger than I was when I walked away from his table.

A little while later was photo ops. I had bought one for Saturday and Sunday. His line stretched almost the entire length of the convention center. You could definitely tell that Rooker was the star of Geek'd Con.

The whole time we were waiting in line, Rooker would periodically stick his head out of the curtain and pull the curtain up tight around his face to where his face was all that was showing. I tried to get a picture cause it was adorable as hell, but as soon as I would get my phone out, he would disappear behind the curtain again.

When it was my turn to take the picture, I went up to Rooker and he put his arm around me and I did the same to him. Here's where it gets really good.

Usually, photo ops go by insanely fast. Like seconds fast. But for some reason, there was a delay between my photo and the one before. Rooker's event manager was talking to the photographer about something so that left me and Rooker to ourselves for a moment.

If y'all don't know yet, Rooker in a backwards baseball cap is THE sexiest thing on the planet to me. Last year, he wore one of his Penman hats so I didn’t get to ask him this. This year, I said ‘fuck it’ and went for it.

With him standing right next to me with his arm still around me, I leaned over and said, “Rooker, will you do me a favor?”

He turned towards me, his face inches away from mine, and looked right in my eyes and said, “What's that baby?”

I..could..have..died..right..then..and..there. The feeling of Rooker that close to you. His eyes staring right into your soul. Lawd help me.

I said, “Will you turn your hat around backwards?”

He gave me a slow grin and said, “Yeah, baby.” He turned his cap around but kind of looked a little confused.

I said, “I like it better that way. It's hotter like that.” Yeah, I still can’t believe I said that, too. But I felt I needed to explain why I asked him.

He laughed and grabbed me in a big bear hug, the kind that almost knocked both of us over. He said,” Oh, that gets you all hot, huh?” I said, “Uh, yeaaah." Fuck it. I was being honest. He busted out laughing again, but it was time to take the photo. So we straightened up and I said, “Now you gonna have me blushing.” He grinned and said, “I know, it's great.”

We took the photo and he hugged me again and then held my hand and said ‘thank you, baby’. His event manager asked if he had seen my shirt. He laughed and said yes, and held my hand ‘til I really had to walk away.

We immediately got back in his line so I could get my first autograph. This time, I had him sign one of his old headshots which was him as Zeedo from The Replacement Killers.

Time for a little backstory. A couple of years ago, I got a new dog and named him Rooker. Last year I showed Rooker a meme I had made with him and my dog. He got a kick out of it. Well, almost two months ago, I rescued another dog that had been living in horrendous conditions at a puppy mill in south Louisiana. From the first time I saw this dog, I knew he was supposed to be mine. I got approved for his adoption, named him Zeedo, and he became one of my pack.

Now back to Rooker. When it was my turn, I went up to him and gave him the Zeedo headshot to sign. I pulled out my phone and said, “Rooker, you remember last year I showed you my dog, Rooker? Well, I adopted another dog last month and named him Zeedo.” I showed him a picture of him.

He said, “Aww.” He looked back down at the headshot and said, “Zeedo frommm?” He couldn’t think of the name of the movie. I said,” The Replacement Killers.”

He laughed,” Yes! The Replacement Killers! You know when I grow a goatee like that now, it’s definitely not that color anymore.”

He then noticed the packet of headshots and other pictures I was holding in my hand. He grabbed them and started flipping through them saying he was gonna sign another. I said, “No, you signed all those last time.” He said, “I'm not gonna sign all of them, just my favorite one.” He pulled out the hot young headshot and signed it again and then said something about his resume on the back. And I still forgot to ask him about clown training! I’m so mad at myself!

Another backstory - I need to mention that earlier one of my mom's old co-workers had found us at Geek'd Con. She knew I loved Rooker and had been messaging me about him a couple of months before Geek'd Con. She stood with us in line during the Zeedo headshot signing. Before we got to Rooker, we were talking about going to his panel which was in a couple of hours. She had never met Rooker before or been to one of his panels. I told her how Rooker doesn’t play by the rules, and there was no way he was gonna sit at the table on the stage. I don’t think the Geek'd Con folks really had any idea what they were getting themselves into with Rooker, and I was super curious to see how his panel would be.

While Rooker was signing his old headshot, my mom’s co-worker asked him how old he was in that photo. He figured he was in his early to mid-20s. That original 1991 press photo I have of Rooker with his soda and popcorn at a movie premiere was also in the stack of headshots. He saw it and I said, “Aww, lookit that baby.” He laughed, “Yeah, that young, hot baby.” I said, “Oh, Rooker, you’re still hot.”

He gave me a tight, squishy sideways hug and we said our goodbyes for the moment.

We snuck in late to the panel before his to try to get a good seat. My boss had also texted me in the meantime that he and his wife were on their way. They weren’t sure they would be able to come that particular day, but they ended up making it just in time for his panel.

Rooker’s panel was full of typical Rooker shenanigans. And just as I had expected, Rooker never sat down at the table and lasted about 7 minutes pacing on the stage before he jumped off and ran out into the audience taking questions.

After his panel, we rushed back to Rooker’s booth one last time before he left for the day. I couldn’t wait for my boss to meet Rooker. You know how Rooker and James Gunn are together? Best friends who are constantly bullshitting one another? That’s exactly how me and my boss are. And for the longest time, I’ve been telling my boss every time he fucks with me that someday I would get Rooker to beat him up. Now, they would both be in the same room, and I could finally get Rooker to ‘beat him up’.

I had Rooker sign that goofy picture of him behind the scenes of “Super”. He said, “Hey, it’s Super! I was just talking about Super! Lookit that expression!”, talking about the silly face he was making. After he signed the picture, I pointed to my boss and said, “Rooker, I need you to beat him up for me.”

“Whhhhy?”

“Because he’s my boss and he’s mean to me and I always tell him that I’m gonna get you to beat him up.”

Rooker told my boss to give him his hand. My boss thought he was asking to shake his hand, but instead, Rooker takes my boss’s hand and starts smacking the back of it while saying ‘Bad! Bad! Bad!’ like he was scolding a little kid.

We said goodbye after that and I told him that I’d be back tomorrow to see him again. I also said, “I have some more things to give you.” He misheard me and said, “WHAT? You have more things to do?!” like he was upset or sad I wasn’t coming to see him. I busted out laughing and said, “Noooo, more things to give you.” He smiled really big and said “Ohhh..omg more stuff?" and called me a doll and said I was too sweet. And that was the end of the epic first day.

Sunday, August 18th, 2019

My friend couldn’t come with me to Geek'd Con on Sunday due to work so I drug my 10-year-old niece along. She didn’t mind though. She loves superhero movies and she knows who Rooker is because of me. Plus, I bribed her by telling her I would buy her something while we were there.

We got to the convention center right when the doors opened at 11 that morning, and after going through security, went straight to Rooker’s booth. He was already out and there weren’t that many people in line at that time, so I decided to go ahead and go see him. I had my Bud Melks poster for him to sign and another gift to give him.

As soon as we got to Rooker, someone brought him another cup of coffee. I had to wait for him to pour his new coffee into his old cup, laughing and watching him almost spill coffee all over the place. When he was done, he asked, “Whatcha got?” talking about the poster I had in my hand. I unrolled my Bud poster out in front of him and said, “You remember I have your Bud coveralls? I’m gonna frame this to hang up, too.”

“Yes, you do. Oooh, this looks nice.” He held the poster up for everyone to see, and then asked everyone in line if they had seen Belko. I don’t think anyone said yes. He laughed and joked, “Well don’t, it’s terrible!” The line had gotten somewhat longer behind me so I decided to give him his gift a little while later so I wouldn’t take up any more time.

My niece and I walked around some, and I made good on my promise of buying her something. When we came back around, there were only like 2 or 3 people in Rooker’s line so I went up to give him a gift. This one needed a little explaining.

I went up to Rooker and gave him one of those Yondu car air fresheners I had posted to my tumblr and Rooker Facebook pages awhile back. He said, “Aww, what is this?” I told him how I had found these Yondu air fresheners a couple of months ago and that I had posted them to FB and IG. I almost didn’t want to tell him that I had a Rooker FB page, but I kinda had to. I said, “I have a Rooker FB page called All Hail King Rooker.”

He said, “All hail what?”

“King Rooker.”

He busted out laughing. “Ahh, King Rooker. Okay.”

“Ok, so, I posted these on my Rooker FB, and Kim (who runs the Rookerholics FB page) commented on the picture saying that you needed some for your Airstream. So, I was like ‘yesss, he needs some for his Airstream!’ So, I go to buy you some, but they were sold out. And they’ve been sold out ever since. Soooooo, I’m giving you my extra one.”

He loved it and said, “Awww. Thank you, baby.” He took it out of the package and put it together.

I then told him that I had taken out the air freshener thingy ‘cause it was shit and never worked but the little Yondu still looks cool.

We talked a little more and he came around the table to give me another hug. He then asked my niece her name and held out his hand for her to shake it. He teased her a little bit about not shaking his hand hard enough so he taught her how to shake hands properly but not too hard that it would break his hand. I explained to him that she was my niece and that I didn’t have any adult supervision anymore. He laughed and told my niece not to let me get in any trouble. I told him, “You know the only trouble I’d be getting into is over here with you, Rooker.” He laughed again and gave me another hug, telling me how sweet how I was. And I did it again, y’all. While he still had his arms around me, I said, “I love you, Rooker. And, I’ll be back later to give you more stuff.” He said, “Dammit, woman!” as he pulled away and I left his line again smiling like an idiot.

I had another photo op a little later, but not much happened during that one. I mean other than the fact that I got to stand close to him again with his arm around me and he held my hand as I walked away, but...

It was nearing the end of the afternoon and Rooker had another round of photo ops at 3 pm. The con closed at 5 and I was afraid he might be leaving after his photo ops. I decided to go get in his line one last time and do the thing I had been dreading all weekend, saying goodbye.

I had him sign a couple more pictures, one being a photo of him from Thief, which he filmed in Shreveport. He was like ‘Oooh, Thief.” I said, “Yep, you signed my Super (which was also filmed in Shreveport) pic yesterday and Thief today.” He told me he still has the suspenders he wore in that photo. I asked if he remembered me telling him that my stepdad was a cop and that he had been working on the set of Thief and met Rooker years ago. He said yeah, and I explained to him that my stepdad had just retired from the force after like 30 years or so and that his retirement party was in a couple of weeks and it was being held at the same place that he filmed his last scene in Thief. (The place is actually an event hall and my sister works there now.) He thought that was pretty cool. I also had him sign the crazy-haired “International Sex Symbol” picture, too.

His line started to get really long and I felt like I needed to hurry, so I gave him the last few things I had for him, a Shreveport Police Dept. patch, a Shreveport Fire Dept. patch, and a Matchbox car of a Shreveport Police cruiser. I explained the stuff really quick and said, “This is it, Rooker. I gotta go. This is all I got. I won’t be coming back anymore.” He grabbed me up in another tight hug that nearly knocked us off balance, and said, “Me neither!” I said, “Noooo, Rooker, you have to come back. Please!” He laughed and said he would. He then pointed to my niece and said that she’d be full-grown next year when he’s here. I told him goodbye and walked away one last time.

I swear it was like instant depression walking away from his table knowing that I wouldn’t be seeing him again. And I know he calls a lot of people ‘baby’ or ‘sexy’ or any of his other pet names and gives hugs to everybody, but damn if he doesn’t make you feel special. It’s like no one else exists but the two of you when he’s talking to you. He makes me forget, if just for a moment, all the negative thoughts that I have about myself, the depression, the way I’ll never be good enough for anyone. He makes me truly..happy, and no one else on earth makes me feel the way that he does. And I hope that he knows that. Walking away from him is seriously one of the hardest things to do.

So, again, that’s it. That’s my second adventure with the Rooker, the most beautiful person inside and out in the entire world. I’m not sure when I’ll get to see him next, but if it’s up to me and written in the stars, there will be a next time. I already have some more gift ideas (gotta keep up my sugar mama ways) and another pretty epic shirt design that I think he’ll get a kick out of. So, until next time, farewell y’all! :)

#michael rooker #rooker #geekd con #I love this man so much #like soooo fucking much

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buriednurbckyrd · 6 years ago

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Necessary Paradox (2)

*Thank you to everyone that read and liked/reblogged/commented on the first chapter! I’m not sure how many chapters this will have yet, and I still feel a bit like I’m navigating unknown territory with the a/b/o universe... But I’m excited to see where this takes me! Any and all feedback is welcome, it really helps me with the writing process!*

Y/N pulled her hand back and held it against her chest which suddenly felt tight. Steve's wide eyes were glued to her face.

“Um, excuse me. I-I'll be right back.” She said shakily before hurrying off to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“What just happened?” Bucky wondered aloud, staring at his friend. Steve shook his head, unable to formulate an answer just yet. His heart was pounding so hard he could almost hear it. His Alpha instincts were screaming at him to go after her. To order Y/N to open the door and…

And what?

“I think she's mine.” He said slowly. The thought made him smile, even though their encounter had lasted all of three minutes. “I think she's my true mate, Buck.” True mates were a concept Steve had given up ages ago as a silly romantic notion. It was the stuff of movies and cheesy paperbacks. Maybe in his youth he had fantasized about it, someone that was destined to be his other half. That would love and accept him for the sickly, skinny little thing he was.

“What?” Bucky hissed. “You aren't serious.” Steve grabbed his friend's arm and forced him to look him in the eye.

“I know it sounds nuts, but I just...” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He felt overwhelmed by the strange circumstances, his mind whirling with the enormity of what he was suggesting. Somehow he just knew.

Bucky nudged him, interrupting his thoughts. Y/N had opened the door and was coming back out. He drank in the sight, wanting to memorize every inch of her. She was soft and round, all generous curves. Her right arm was covered from shoulder to mid forearm in flowers of every type and color. A graceful peacock adorned her left, beautiful tail cascading down, its head curled on her shoulder. When she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear he caught a flash of metal. Several studs ran up her ear, and a bar went through the top and out again diagonally. There was also a thin silver hoop through one of her nostrils. He wondered what other tattoos or piercings she might have on the rest of her body hidden under her long gray dress and the thought had heat pooling in his stomach. His Alpha wanted nothing more than to strip her bare and explore every inch of her sumptuous body. He disguised a possessive growl with a cough, scolding himself for the outward display of aggression.

“I'm sorry about that,” she told them with a crooked smile. “It's been quiet here all day and I must have over done it a bit in the storage room.” Steve felt a pang in his chest at her obvious deflection. Bucky stepped forward and touched her arm and he bristled.

“Are you okay? We can reschedule if you need to.” Bucky is a friend. Bucky is not a rival Alpha, he repeated over and over in his head.

“I'm fine, really. I just needed a minute. I have your design here and if you like it, we can get started when you're ready.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze in reassurance. She pulled out two pieces of paper, and Steve crept closer to get a good look at her drawings. “I know you said you liked just the head or face, but I drew up another option just to cover all the bases.” Both men were impressed by her skill. One showed a wolf's head, the face calm and relaxed. The other was the full body, lying down. Somehow they both portrayed a quiet sort of dignity.

“Wow, these are both great.” Bucky told her, scrutinizing both. “But I think I still prefer just the face.” Y/N nodded.

“I thought you would, but I still wanted you to see both options. Let me just go print out your stencil and we're good to go.” She led them back to her station and told Bucky where to sit. “Steve? Feel free to pull up one of those chairs, okay?” His stomach flipped when she addressed him directly and he watched her as she moved around setting up the last few things she needed to begin her work. When she pulled on a pair of black latex gloves he noticed a smattering of faded pink scars littered across her hands. “Alright, time to strip for me.” Bucky chuckled at her teasing tone and pulled his shirt off. Steve noticed the lack of hesitation which made his hackles rise and shamed him. It should have made him happy to see his guarded friend so comfortable around another person.

When she had transferred the stencil to his skin she picked up her machine and turned it on, dipping the tip into a little cap full of ink.

“Ready?” She asked.

“As I'll ever be.” Bucky replied with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. She made a small first pass with the needle and paused to make sure he was okay with the feeling. “You can't hurt me, sweetheart.” He told her, and she continued. As she worked she kept up a light conversation. She seemed more relaxed with her hands busy. Every time she would gently wipe away excess ink mixed with blood her eyes would flick up and meet Steve's. He felt like she was scrutinizing him in those fleeting moments, but her hands never shook and her concentration never appeared to waver from Bucky's skin.

God, her scent was driving him insane. Sweet, like warm honey and fresh peaches; but a bit of something wild like the hint of a thunderstorm on a summer breeze. He couldn't help his body's reaction to her, but if she was picking up on any of it, she gave away nothing. Bucky read his friend like a book, his annoyed glances becoming darker as a haze of pheromones grew heavier in the space.

After completing the outline, Y/N excused herself for a short break. Both men declined her offer of a cold beverage.

“I'm just going to stretch my legs for a few minutes, and I need to check in with my partner.” She told them and went out the back door. As soon as it closed behind her, Bucky jumped all over Steve.

“What. The. Fuck.” He punched him in the arm. “You smell like a horny teenager!”

“I'm sorry! I can't help it!” Steve flushed bright red. “Do you want me to leave?” Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don't know, it might be weirder if you just left at this point. You've been here this long and it doesn't seem to be affecting her.” His words made his heart ache. Why wasn't she affected at all? How could Steve be tied up into knots while she was cool, calm, and collected? Except for her quick retreat to the bathroom right after their introduction, she gave no sign that she was feeling the same connection he was.

“I'll try and rein it in,” he muttered. “But I can't make any promises. It isn't like I'm doing this on purpose.” He slumped back in his chair miserably. Y/N walked back in before Bucky could reply.

“I know y'all said you didn't want anything, but I brought a few bottles of water in case you changed your mind.” She handed them each a cold bottle. “Will says 'hello', by the way. And he hopes you'll come back when you're healed up so he can see the finished tat.” Bucky turned away from his brooding friend and smiled at her.

“Of course I will.” He watched her pull on a fresh pair of gloves and swap out the needles in her machine with deft hands.

“Ready for the next round?”

“Damn right I am.”

…

Bucky stared at the finished product in the mirror, lost for words. The details were so sharp and defined, it was like a photo looking back at him. He had harbored some small doubt that she would be able to pull off a white animal on his skin, but with clever shadows and highlights he had a gorgeous wolf etched into his skin. Two bright blue eyes seemed to stare back at him. There was no trace of aggression in the expression, just a sense of serene majesty. He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak.

“I love it, Y/N. I just… Wow.” He turned his arm to look at it from a few different angles. “Thank you. I feel like you pulled this directly from my head.” Y/N gave him a gentle side hug.

“I'm really glad you're happy with it.”

“It's beautifully done,” Steve murmured. “You're exceptionally talented, Y/N.” She looked at him, face inscrutable.

“Thanks, Steve.” She replied quietly. She turned back to Bucky. “Now, I'm going to wrap it up and you should keep it covered for at least an hour before rinsing it off with lukewarm water. Do you have any questions about the after care at all?” Bucky shook his head.

“No, you covered everything pretty thoroughly.” He held up the card she had given him. “And it's all here, so I can't screw anything up.”

“I'm sure you'll be fine,” she smiled brightly at him. “But if you have any questions or concerns you can call me at any time.” She started subtly leading them towards the door.

“Thank you again, Y/N. I'll come back when I'm healed so you can get a picture and Will can see it.” He paused at the door before pulling her into a real hug. Steve barely stifled the growl that threatened to bubble up in his throat. Bucky patted her shoulder one last time before leaving, assuming that Steve was right behind him.

“Uh, Y/N?” He said, holding the door. He felt her hesitate before turning to face him. “I was um, wondering… Maybe I could call you some time? We could have coffee or d-dinner?” His face felt like it was on fire, but he couldn't make himself leave without asking her. She was quiet for a just few moments, but it felt like an eternity to him. His heart sank when she shook her head.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Steve.” She wouldn't meet his eyes. “But it was nice meeting you. Have a good night.” Before he knew what was happening, he was standing out on the sidewalk and she was locking the door.

“Come on, Punk! I'm starving!” Bucky yelled, already several yards away. Steve blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened before slowly turning to follow his friend.

…

Y/N practically ran up the stairs to the apartment above the shop. The door slammed behind her and she slid down it, sitting on the floor with her hands pressed against her chest, her heart racing. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, but she wasn't entirely sure why. Jeremiah's Siamese cat padded over to her, meowing a greeting and rubbing against Y/N's legs. She reached out and scratched the cat's head absently, freezing when she caught sight of her scarred knuckles.

“I had to say no,” she whispered to the empty apartment. “He's America's golden hero, and I'm a broken nobody.” She rested her forehead on her arms and let herself cry.

#plus sized reader #omega!reader #Alpha!Steve #A/B/O verse #Marvel AU #steve rogers x plus size reader

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i-guess-im-writing-today · 4 years ago

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Day 14- Overgrown

Day: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, On Ao3

Chapter 14- Overgrown

Adrien huffed, trying to fix his hair, but he knew it was no use. The miraculous gave his hair more volume than he knew what to deal with. Adrien looked up, seeing his lady had already abandoned him. He felt himself pout. He knew that it was smart of her to do that. There have been countless times where they nearly saw each other and even more times where they had to sit back to back recharging because they didn't want to leave yet. It didn't help that they had class soon, and Marinette's parents were sure to check on her and- OH MY GOD! He told Mrs. Dupain-Cheng that he'd hide in the pantry so she wouldn't have to leave the bakery. She was going to come from their house to the pantry and find him missing!

He rushed himself to the bakery and detransformed right as he entered the bakery. He saw Marinette and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng come down together to check on him and casually leaned against the counter. He channeled every cool character he'd ever seen on TV and every photoshoot he'd ever done in his pose.

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng was the first the notice him. "Adrien? What are you doing, and why are you out of the pantry already?"

"Well- umm, the noise outside calmed down, so I - ahhh!" His elbow hit the corner of a mixing bowl at the edge of the counter.

The bowl flipped over, and using his cat-like reflexes...he missed it. Not only did he miss it. He fumbled with it on the way down and got it all over his face and shirt. Then almost in slow-mo, it fell upsidedown, spilling everywhere. He stood frozen for a few seconds with his arms outstretched, looking at Marinette.

She bit her lips and looked at him, the floor, then back to him before bursting out in laughter. "Sorry, hahahahaha- I can't! Oh my god, Agreste, you looked like a kicked puppy!"

Cat he wanted to correct.

"Why are you just standing there? The bowl's already-ahahahaha- just drop your hands already, you dork!" She grabbed her stomach and caught her breath.

Adrien smiled and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, forgetting that he still had flour coating his hands and arms. His eyes widened as he tried to shake the flour out of his hair, earning him another stream of laughter from Marinette and even a few chuckles from her mother. Adrien felt that it was worth it, though. He had made her laugh as Adrien. He saw her blue eyes squint from how hard she laughed and how she desperately tried to regain her composer but ended up laughing more when she locked eyes with him again. Her laugh was infectious, and soon enough, he was laughing just as much.

Marinette finally caught her breath, "Maman, I'll take Adrien in my room and see if I have anything that'll fit him,"

"Okay, try to be quick. You two still have class. I'll clean up down here,"

Adrien felt his heart pound. He was going to her room! He always wanted to go, and now he had an excuse to look around! She led him up the stairs that brought them into her living room, and Adrien tried not to fanboy about all the pictures he saw of her with her family. He felt like a fan given VIP access backstage.

When he finally entered her room, it was both exactly and not at all what he expected it to be. It was so warm and cozy, with fun patterns and designs everywhere. He always imagined his lady quite organized, but Marinette as a mess. And somehow, both were true. Half-finished projects, labeled boxes, walls filled with inspiration, everything had its place. It was so distinctly her. He wanted to wander around but felt that it'd be rude, so he just looked around.

"Here. Not Agreste family quality, but it'll work while he wash your clothes." She handed him a light green sweater with a black paw-print on the front and some black sweatpants.

Adrien felt giddy. It was a Chat Noir themed sweater! It was him! And his lady made it! Marinette quirked an eyebrow at his reaction but didn't say anything and led him to her bathroom. After making sure that she closed the door, he excitedly jumped around. This couldn't be a more perfect day. He made up with Marinette, heard her defend Adrien (although she didn't know it was him), saw her room, and now he was going to wear a sweater she made based on his superhero persona (which you know was dating her superhero persona!). He felt so lucky, which as a black cat, he rarely felt.

He hurriedly put on the sweater and sweatpants, wanting to see how it looked. It felt soft and warm and matched his eyes perfectly. His heart warmed, and he wrapped his arms around himself, feeling so loved. He came out of the restroom after calming himself down a bit, but he didn't see Marinette anywhere.

"Up here," Marinette's head popped out of the door above her bed.

He climbed up and saw her standing near the railing on her balcony with all her plants surrounding her. Overgrown vines of her hanging plants and blooming flowers around her looked like a scene from a movie.

"Thought they were the same size," she muttered to herself "not too bad if I do say so myself,"

"I love it," he said a little too truthfully.

"Good to know, but you gotta take it off before you leave. It's a present for my boyfriend,"

"Oh...OH!" the realization came late that he was the boyfriend she was talking about.

Marinette tilted her head, "Umm, yeah. Anyway, now that we're cool, I better not hear you making fun of him anymore, or I'll go right back to hating you,"

Adrien giggled, "okay,"

This one actually got long! So much fluff and just Adrien being very cute. I also want to say oh my god thank you?! I thought I was mostly writing this for me and 2 other people because it's been so long but within 2 hours of posting chapter 11 and 12 I had a few kudos and comments so it makes me feel like y'all were just waiting for me to get off my lazy ass and write again.

#ml enemy au #miraculous ladybug #inktober 2019 #ml fic #day 14

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pompadorkery · 7 years ago

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Mmmm. Gonna step in here as a former employee. The hate for HT gets under my skin sometimes, because people don't seem to understand how business works?

In the first example, that shirt is designed by the band, not Hot Topic themselves as a company. Most of the band merch is like this. (And that damn Homestuck shirt was not stolen or whitewashed Jesus Christ. It was part of a contest thst Andrew Hussie approved of. And do y'all now know how printing works? Colors shift in printing.)

Sizing.

Yeah, sizing can be weird, but once you understand how it works(or, y'know, ask an employee for help instead if whining), it's super easy.

The "women's" t-shirts are actually juniors sizes. Depending on the store, they'll normally be sold up to an XXL in store, and up to a 4x online(which can be ordered in the store).

The regular t-shirts(like most of the band tees not specifically put in the women's section), run like any normal t-shirt without much variation from brand to brand.

Men's pants, totally normal sizing.

Women's pants, again, I think they run off of Junior's sizing.

But seriously, Hot Topic jeans are the only ones I wear. They're stretchy and comfier than any other pair of jeans I've worn.

And aaaah. The age old "You guys used to sell punk and goth stuff. Ugh."

It's still available. It's just online. You can buy Tripp pants to your heart's content on the website.

There's a reason that it's not sold physically in store. It's EXPENSIVE. Most people aren't willing to spend 70 bucks or more on one pair of pants. It's super niche as well. There simply isn't the market for it anymore.

The entire 3 years I worked for the company, I only had ONE person actually wanting to buy Tripp pants once I mentioned that I could order them through the website(which I told everyone who ever complained about Hot Topic "changing").

And guess what? After I looked on the website with this person for a good half an hour and took down SKUs and wrote down their entire order for them, so they could keep hold of it and hand it to the cashier when they were ready....

They just left. Never bought the pants.

One time we got a return of Tripp pants from someone that ordered them online. Those things sat on the rack for months.

So the reason why "they don't sell punk and goth stuff anymore"... is because punk and goth people AREN'T BUYING IT.

So. For the Mad Love thing. Most of the world isn't tumblr. So most people just... y'know, didn't care.

I had 40 year old women come in super excited to buy Joker/Harley stuff. Honestly, it was mostly just Harley stuff. There was maybe one or two shirts that actually depicted the two of them together, and then some accessories with the matching color schemes.

It's something that exists in the DC universe. And some people like it. There's a market for it.

Not that I myself support it, but other people, especially the older crowd, absolutely adore it. Some people just like it for the aesthetic, and some don't even know much about DC.

And tbh, it was just the higher ups pushing this shit. None of us at store level actually liked it. We were all sick of Harley Quinn in general lol.

And here's a wild idea. If you don't like something. Contact the company. Send them an email. Voice your complaints TO the company.

Because flat out not shopping there doesn't hurt the CEOs or the people on top.

It hurts the minimum wage workers.

Sales associates are already stretched thin, having to be helping customers, being a cashier, and cleaning the store. As well as keeping an eye out for sticky-fingered teens.

I was a manager, on an average day, I wouldn't even HAVE a sales associate helping me. I'd be alone in the store from 9am-1pm, when the other manager came in. We'd overlap to take our breaks from 1pm-5pm, and then they'd be alone the rest of the night.

Why? We wouldn't have enough hours to give out. Why? Because people weren't spending money.

Heaven forbid we went over hours.

What in saying is. Times change. Hot Topic has become more fandom-centric, but that's because that's how the crowd evolved.

The punk kids who bought from HT years ago now have kids of their own. Kids who like Disney and anime and comics.

While there is some shitty stuff going on, that's to be expected with any store.

Hot Topic offers an affordable option to fans to get merch they like.

Alternatives to Hot Topic

REAL TALK: WE ALL NEED TO STOP SHOPPING AT HOT TOPIC

THEY STEAL ART

THEIR SIZING IS PRETTY RIDICULOUS.

THEY QUIT SELLING GOTH AND PUNK SHIT ALTOGETHER.

AND THIS LATEST SHIT STORM

MARKETING ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS. HOW LOVELY.

Hot topic went down the shitter long ago and it’s time to find a new place to get your totally awesome fandom inspired t-shirts and goth gear. Here are some sites where you can get your expressive clothing without feeding into this corporate shit monster of a store. Most if not all of the art on these sites are posted by the original artist. (I’m not sure about the goth stuff, you might have to check, some are brand name though so it should be fine)

FOR FANDOM AND BAND STUFF:

RED BUBBLE: [link]

SHARK ROBOT: [link]

SOCIETY 6: [link]

DESIGN BY HUMANS: [link]

MY SOTI: [link]

TEE PUBLIC: [link]

FOR GOTH STUFF:

GOOD GOTH: [link]

DRAC-IN-THE-BOX: [link]

INFECTIOUS THREADS: [link]

VAMPIRE FREAKS: [link]

LIP SERVICE: [link]

SPOOKY BOUTIQUE: [link]

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ADD TO THIS LIST!

#sorry i just get really annoyed #hot topic was my first job and helped me through a hard time in my life #there are great people working there and they're the ones that suffer #i wont justify all the things they've done #but theres a reason behind alot of it

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honoluluprintmakers · 7 years ago

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2017 Print & Book Fair Vendor Profile: Zach Clark

Please introduce yourself:

I am Zach Clark, and I am a printmaker/publisher based in Oakland, CA. I work under both my own name, as well as National Monument Press, a new small press focused on publishing largely collaborative books, prints, and other ephemera centered around undershared, uniquely American stories and perspectives. This year’s Honolulu Printmakers Print & Book Fair will be my first time to Hawaii, but I have been inspired by and internet friends with the studio and some of it's members for a few years now. My home base on the internet is www.zachclarkis.com or @zachclarkis on instagram.

Could you describe your artistic background / history?

Music was really my first creative love, starting terrible punk bands as early as middle school, but the threads were being sewn between visual art and music from the get go. I was one of those kids who found downloads of photoshop so I could design things for my bands and other local bands I knew, which lead to teaching myself how to screen print. I was then introduced to photography by my grandfather who gave me all of his camera equipment, looking back I'm not sure why, which I immediately fell in love with, but mainly so I could take pictures of live music.

I would eventually study photography in undergrad in Colorado Springs, which is where I interacted with non-photography based art for the first time. I had this really vibey instructor who took her classes to Taos for Native American spiritual journeys and taught classes that were based almost completely in 2-d experimentation and rarely resulted in anything resembling finished quality work. At the time, I know I viewed them as the classes I had to take when I wasn't in the dark room, but they were such a key to unlocking where I am today. I'd eventually drop out to move to LA to join a band, and this same faculty member told me that while she had never heard me play music, she was sure I was a better artist and thus was making a terrible decision. I hated LA and left after not even being there for a year, catching a ride back to Denver with my friends' band that was doing well, and somehow that week turned into 3 years of being on tour across the US, Canada, and Europe. I was doing freelance photography and graphic design work for bands and labels, not really recognizing I was drawing and doing something very close to "art". Once I stopped touring I ended up in Chicago and worked a terrible job for a few years until some friends finally staged an intervention of sorts that I had to go back to school.

That fall I returned to school at the University of Illinois Chicago with no real plan. A grad student who would later become a good friend taught my Intro Drawing course and he told me essentially, "You've been in a band, you know how to hustle, you seem to have drive. You should be a painter", and I dove into studying painting, making these giant 8 feet paintings with power tools and screen printed elements, as one does in a city like Chicago with cheap warehouse sized studios. As soon as I finished school, I got married and my wife took a job as a travel nurse, which meant we were living out of our car for almost a year. I tried painting while we were traveling and nothing was working. Once we unexpectedly ended up in the Bay Area, I was lucky to fall into this studio that had a strong printmaking cohort, as printmaking has always had a strong presence here, and got more curious. I began to learn and think more about printmaking historically, its democratization, its accessibility, its group mentality, its interconnection with political and social movements, etc, which then made me realize it was both aesthetically and conceptually aligning with my thoughts and ideas with my work. Six years later, a masters degree, and rediscovering film photography and realizing it can sit within printmaking just fine for me, I'm still here in the printmaker camp.

How did you first begin as a print artist?

Printmaking really began for me in those early middle and high school years trying to print t-shirts. I would go almost 10 years before picking up a silkscreen for artistic purposes, and that was really inspired by Rauschenburg and Warhol more than any sort of traditional printmaking. Both schools I attended for undergrad had discontinued their printmaking programs/studios, so it wasn't until I moved to Oakland that I was exposed to printmaking techniques beyond screen printing. The studio I landed in for some reason decided to purchase 3 letterpresses months after I joined, which resulted in all of us trying to learn how to use them by sharing what knowledge we had and filling in the gaps with trial and error. I then became studio mates with an incredible printmaker (Jeanne Lorenz) who helped talk me through several more approaches. Like I said earlier, painting just wasn't doing what I needed at this point, and I was incredibly lucky to find this strong and supportive community of printmaking that exists here in the Bay exactly when I needed it.

What is a unique aspect of your artistic process when working on new projects?

I have two approaches to the way I work that, at the moment, result in two fairly different bodies of work. I tend to casually categorize the aesthetics of my work as either "Geometric Abstraction" or "Blurry Photos of Basically Nothing". I haven't figured out how to marry them, but also am not entirely sure I even want or need to. Thematically my work has a lot to do with locational and familial memory, but also political and social issue, so the two approaches seem to have homes for specific topics. That said, each approach has a pretty specific process.

Within my softer, blurrier, memory based work, I rely completely on my Holga Camera, which is a really cheap plastic camera that shoots medium format film, but you can't really focus correctly and there is no aperature, and you manually advance the film, so there is a lot of freedom / guessing that goes into taking photos. I think there is a really beautiful connection to how one captures images and the final product and how we take in the world and memory works. I travel a lot and those types of projects typically come out that. I'll then use the photos as the original which then goes through processes like screen printing or risograph to push them even further into this space of familiar ambiguity.

For my geometric abstraction work, I rely on this box of type-high ends and trimmings, as well as other actual type, to construct compositions directly on to my press bed. It's a process not terribly different from collaging, or even mosaic building, but results in these nightmare-ish lock ups that all of my serious letterpress printing friends make fun of me for. I have a couple of older pressman friends who have straight up told me they don't believe I can actually print what I'm setting up and have no interest in seeing anything besides the finished product.

How do you see printed material evolving in the future?

Maybe I'm in denial and a romantic, but I only seen printed material and ephemera continuing to flourish. We had a few dicey years there when the kindle was exploding at first and they tried to push those slideshow style digital photo frames, but the rise of artist book and print fairs, such as the one y'all host, is evidence that has leveled off and even digital natives still want to hold and own physical ephemera. Flyers and posters and pamphlets are still incredibly important and valuable in certain environments and communities. We've been utilizing printed ephemera for over 500 years in the western world, and I don't think it's something that will ever go away.

Even though we might have already reached “peak Riso,” I'm excited about largely digital processes like that which are almost acting in opposition to giclee printing or super high end ink jet printing. I'm personally interested in how we can investigate and rethink recent technology for unique artistic practices much more than trying to push the newest technology to complete tasks that resemble traditions we already have (i.e. 3d printing relief blocks or using laser cutters to cut stencils). I think this spirit is exactly what spurred the re-explosion of letterpress interest as an art medium in the last decade or so. Maybe there is a conservationist type of attitude that makes me interested in these processes, how can we find second and third lives for objects that are being phased out and discarded from their original intent?

One tool you cannot work without?

In my everyday life, the grid lined pocket notebook I always keep on me. Within my practice, my Holga and that box of type trimmings are pretty essential. Wait, do my wireless headphones count as a "tool"? If so, then those. Hands down.

#printmaking honoluluprintmakers

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