Every hockey team should have a hipster who wears floral snapbacks and shouts about the ironies of male sexuality in the American collegiate Greek system while waiting in line for the pong table to free up.
Currently staying out in Valley Center, CA for a bit. I spent time in Germany, Poland, Austria, Czech Republic, Finland, and France this summer, but I didn’t really feel like taking any pictures. In France, I was learning about the social work system and Deaf community for a month. Pretty exciting stuff! I might go back there for an internship in the fall. Hope you all are well! Feel free to hit me up, things have slowed way down for me this month. One more year of grad school starting in the fall!
Hi my name is Bro Shitty Number 42 Knight and I have long brown hair (that’s better than other hockey players’ flow) with a matching mustache that goes down to my lips and eyes that look like fields of weed and a lot of people tell me I look like Steve Buscemi (AN: if u don’t know who that is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Jack Zimmermann but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a hockey player but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white privilege. I’m also a gender studies major and I go to a liberal arts college called Samwell in New England where I’m in my senior year (I’m 22). I’m a stoner (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly nothing. I love zumiez and buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a tshirt with a marijuana on it with matching socks and a floral snapback, adidas slide-ons and an american flag vest. I was walking outside the Haus. A lot of lax bros stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
I have a huge clothes sharing thing for these two. Jackson grumbles about Stiles borrowing his expensive shirts, especially when he’s eating, but he also kind of really loves it. he finds it hot when he finds Stiles lounging in a pair of his silk boxers, and he finds it really cute when Stiles has stolen another of his floral sweaters, and he just loves to cuddle up and breathe in the scent of Stiles on his clothes. when Stiles first catches Jackson in one of his plaids, he ends up spending an hour and a half snuggling him on the couch, smiling because his boyfriend is secretly a romantic dork.
Jackson tries to teach Stiles some self defense. it won’t do much against werewolves, but if another evil geriatric decided beating up the human was a good idea, he’d be better prepared to fight. it doesn’t go so well, mostly because Stiles keeps distracting Jackson by stroking his hands down his stomach and thighs, a shit eating grin on his face when Jackson finally gives in and presses him against the wall, kissing him.
I have a headcanon that Jackson wears glasses. he usually wears contact lenses during the day, because he hates the way he looks with his glasses. but he has a pair of floral rimmed glasses for emergencies and when he’s home alone. the first time he wears them around Stiles, it hits Stiles that this is Jackson trusting him, completely and wholly, and showing him in small ways like this. he ends up gently nudging the glasses up Jackson’s nose for him before kissing him softly.
I have a headcanon that Jackson wears a lot of floral. I just love the thought of him in floral shirts, boxes, snapbacks, glasses, etc. So with Jackson in floral and Stiles in plaid, they definitely draw some gazes.
Jackson and Stiles in crop tops. That’s all I’m saying.
for all he comes across as arrogant and sometimes aggressive, Jackson generally tries not to get into fights, usually trying to resolve things other ways. so usually it’s him gently dragging Stiles back before he can get into a fight.
more of byesweetheart’s haikyuu!! recs, kagehina edition
a nonnie reminded me that i’m due for a big ol’ rec list update, so here go my recent reads in alphabetical order:
Again by bigspoonnoya/@plotghosts | Hinata/Kageyama | Mature ® | 15K Words |Summary: Both your deaths in this universe have failed. “Failed…” Kageyama echoes. The word seems to hurt him. “How can you fail at dying?” Hinata asks, incredulous. Luckily you have an infinite selection of universes, with an extensive number of lifetimes, still remaining. Until you can save one another, you will never grow old.| Warnings/Tags to Note: Major Character Death (Temporary), Reincarnation, Angst | Ava’s Thoughts: I will always read a bigspoonnoya fic, even if the tags scare the fuck outta me. Here there be angst, and maybe you’ll feel desperately sad at points because kagehina’s destinies seem helpless, but the author is so good and the story is so unique that you’ll need to keep reading. It’s a truly interesting take on the kagehina DESTINY trope.
Apparent, Radiant by icespyders | Hinata/Kageyama | General Audiences (PG) | 40K Words | Summary: Hinata and Kageyama watch a meteor shower, and Hinata is overwhelmed with light. | Warnings/Tags to Note: Too Good And Pure | Ava’s Thoughts: I This fic made me fall in love with kagehina all over again. I can’t get enough of it. I could read 100k more and never be satisfied. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe KAGEYAMA WITH FLOWERS IN HIS HAIR will.
Empath AU series by calliopinaround/@viscrael | Hinata/Kageyama | Teen (PG-13) to Explicit (NC-17) | 41K Words | Summary: Kageyama couldn’t for the life of him guess what he’d been doing to get so goddamn beat up, but it was there, and the guy wasn’t even taking care of any of it. The pain was making it hard to concentrate during class, making it hard to think at all, and that plus the boy’s overenthusiastic emotions were putting Kageyama in a particularly sour mood, so he really couldn’t be blamed when he snapped something sarcastic at the teacher and got detention in response. Warnings/Tags to Note: Empath Tobio, Trans Shouyou | Ava’s Thoughts: I really enjoyed callioninaround’s exploration of an empath Kageyama, considering he’s so emotionally inept in canon. They managed to keep him in character with his ‘gift,’ which was both entertaining and very sweet bc Tobio, in his way, is really concerned for human pinball Hinata.
Enter The Wasteland series by @esselley | Hinata/Kageyama | Teen (PG-13) | 11K Words + MORE ON TUMBLR | Summary: When Shouyou loses the only life he’s ever known under mysterious and bloody circumstances, it’s Kageyama who finds him in the aftermath, leaving Shouyou with no choice but to rely on the lone, brooding wanderer for survival. But as they journey through the unforgiving landscape, he starts to discover other sides to Kageyama—one of which just might be that he is a good man. | Warnings/Tags to Note: Fallout AU, violence, post-apocolyptic, pre-slash (ish) | Ava’s Thoughts: I DON’T EVEN GO HERE!!!! But you don’t need a primer on Fallout to fall right into the narrative, because Esselle’s storytelling is always so strong and the world is so vivid and kagehina is so precious. Also badass Kageyama is Good ™. There’s more series installments on her tumblr with sexy stuff and more Kageyama POV and it’s all amazing so go read that when you’re done with the first part.
Heat Waves by hoarderhangover | Hinata/Kageyama | E (NC-17) | 1.5K Words | Summary: Hinata is in heat for the first time. Kageyama decides to give him a hand - or rather, a mouth. | Warnings/Tags to Note: ABO Dynamics | Ava’s Thoughts: Uhm, so this is an obvious one. LOL. Super short. Super cute and delicious. A nice interlude between the other angsty shit I read.
he may suck at beer pong but he slam dunked my heart by Authoress/@kiribakus | Hinata/Kageyama | E (NC-17) | 9K Words | Summary: After a while, Kageyama kind of just…forgets how angry the floral snapback makes him. It becomes a companion, almost. It’s seen him through many a late library study session, through feeding planaria and wrestling bean beetles into petri dishes. He feels something close to affection for the ever-present hat. Oh no, Kageyama thinks. I’m attracted to a douchebag.| Warnings/Tags to Note: Frat Boy Shouyou, College, Alcohol, Side Tsukiyama | Ava’s Thoughts: I read this last night and immediately was like WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE. Kageyama suffers tremendously and Hinata is a lovably obnoxious, floral bro. Another one where I could read thousands more words and never be content. Super well done and fun and unique and heartwrenching all at once. Also Yamaguchi is a fuckin gem I would love a fic just about that babe.
Parisienne Walkways series by @someone-stole-my-shoes | Hinata/Kageyama | Mature ® to Explicit (NC-17) | 12K + 46K Words | Summary: Kageyama likes figure skating and Hinata is gay. | Warnings/Tags to Note: Figure Skater Tobio, College, Roommates, Public Sex | Ava’s Thoughts: WELL, I haven’t actually made it to Part Two, but I am SO READY TO CURL UP AND READ THE NEXT 46K because it is SO GOOD and FIGURE SKATER TOBIO. OKAY??? If you can’t dedicate yourself to that many words today, read part one because it is a grand ol’ time and @someone-stole-my-shoes deserves ALL THE LOVE bc she’s great and her way with words is also great.
Scent by @someone-stole-my-shoes | Hinata/Kageyama | Mature ® to Explicit (NC-17) | 12K + 46K Words | Summary: He puts some shorts, some boxers—Kageyama doesn’t look at these, knows by the feel of them, the silky smooth fabric beneath his fingers that they don’t belong to him—and a couple of shirts into the machine before he reaches the bottom of the pile, and there, buried beneath everything else, is Hinata’s team jersey. Kageyama stares at it.It’s…damp, still soaked in sweat from their game the other day, and it smells, smells so strong even from it’s spot, innocent and unassuming, in the bottom of the basket. Kageyama’s eyelids flutter, and his cheeks grow warm. | Warnings/Tags to Note: Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fantasy| Ava’s Thoughts: KAGEYAMA IS A FILTHY BOY AND I LOVE HIM. Also, you know it’s good when there’s a double-up on a writer in the same rec list. <3
Graduating from Samwell, trans woman Shitty knew about gender, but she didn’t know gender. To metaphor for a moment: I can tell you how a car works - engine, drivetrain, fuel system, electrical system, steering, suspension, all of it - but I don’t know cars. I can’t listen to a car and say, “hmm, the engine is knocking pretty badly - let’s check if there’s something wrong with the MAF”. Shitty knew what “trans” means - knew that gender is not gender roles, knew that gender is not anatomy, knew even that the equivocation of anatomy and physical sex is just as much of a social construct as gender and gender roles are - but at no point did anyone tell Shitty how you recognize your own gender.
Which in practice, as of Shitty graduating from Samwell, meant that Shitty’s gender identification was based on nothing more than assignment at birth and stereotypes about men and women. Never mind four years of Women’s Gender and Sexuality Studies to learn on a gut level that these have about as much to do with gender as whether your mother slept on her left side or her right while she was carrying you; even if you wouldn’t make the same mistake now, you’re not going to know that you made a mistake until you go back to check your work, and even then you need to have something to work with. “I don’t know how to tell my gender” often turns into “I’ll just stick with what I’ve got” in practice.
On the subject of stereotypes: Shitty fucking loves hockey. (And swearing, and partying, but hockey most definitely.) Shitty wasn’t a great hockey player, as others have pointed out - NHL was nowhere on her radar, nor she on NHL’s - but she loves the hell out of the game, she loves playing it, and the hardest thing about her first semester at Harvard Law was not playing any more.
(If Harvard didn’t already have rules about trans athletes, they would after Shitty realized and started transitioning. They probably wouldn’t even argue about it. What scientific knowledge we have about athletics tells us that there’s no advantage to trans athletes on hormone replacement therapy over cis athletes, and there are already tons of precedents for inclusion. It’s possible that the league could argue, it’s even possible that Harvard itself might argue, but it wouldn’t matter if they did - they would lose.)
(It’s not likely, though. She’d probably just have to wait a year before they let her play in games with the women’s team.)
(Joining the women’s ice hockey team wouldn’t make Shitty a better hockey player. Being consciously determined to play cleaner than anyone else in the league (because she’s never going to justify the stereotype of trans women as brutes, even by accident) … might.)
Point being, though: Shitty’s interests were stereotypically masculine. She wasn’t playing with dolls, she wasn’t wearing skirts, she wasn’t quiet and submissive … she was, as far as cliches go, a total bro. No-one ever looked at her and said, “have you ever wondered if”.
And on the subject of looks: Shitty knew her mustache was awesome. She didn’t realize her mustache was bleeding her with gender dysphoria every time she looked at it.
Or that she liked to be naked because sometimes pants and men’s shirts did the same thing.
Or that she loved her flow and her floral snapbacks because they didn’t, not just because they’re awesome. (The funeral for Shitty’s flow is definitely canon in this verse.)
How did Shitty figure it out, anyway? Well, five people came out to Shitty in a week at Samwell; people didn’t stop coming out to Shitty just because she graduated. When one of her classmates came to her after a study group to talk, Shitty understood what ze was saying partially - enough to help, enough to explain to zir the things that a WGSS major knows that almost nobody else is taught, enough to help zir navigate the resources available to zir at Harvard … but not enough to understand why so many things ze said to explain how ze knew ze wasn’t a woman resonated.
Shitty still didn’t understand on the day she stayed late at one of the Trans* Task Force meetings she’d been attending with her friend to talk to Egypt, this amazing goddess of a woman who helped organize the meetings. Shitty didn’t understand, but the question was growing too big to bear.
They ended up talking for four hours. There was a lot of hugging and crying.
The first person Shitty came out to after that conversation was Lardo. Second was Jack. Third was Jayden, the friend from her study group who’d come out to her and asked for help. Fourth was Nursey.
(Her conversation with Nursey ended up almost as long as her conversation with Egypt, and while Shitty had a feeling Nursey wasn’t talking about himself, she sent him a list of resources anyway.)
When she came out to her mother, her mother hugged her immediately and told her how proud she was of her brilliant, fierce, independent-minded daughter. They read a lot of books together over the next few years, including Nursey’s first book of poetry.
(Shitty didn’t recognize the dedication “to my friend and confidant, Willa J.” until the second edition, when Dex finally convinced Nursey it was okay to include her last name.)
Shitty came out to her father braced for a fight, but he just said, “Huh. So, are you thinking about changing your name? Is Shitty a girl’s name?”, and they ended up talking about how she should approach Harvard University Athletics about joining the women’s ice hockey team.
(Like I said: Harvard probably didn’t argue. If they did, they would lose.)
(And she wasn’t sure if she liked the hat her father sent with “♥ SHITTI ♥” embroidered on it, but Lardo busted a gut laughing when Shitty first put it on, so she didn’t get rid of it.)
Shitty got a job working for a 501(c)(4) LGBTQ political advocacy organization out of law school.
She was invited on the Daily Show once. The extended interview was two and a half hours. She still gets letters.
Froyo Closes at Eleven (And Other Convenient Truths)
This is the first of three prompts I wrote for my follower milestone event! Please enjoy Bitty and Kent’s sort-of meet-cute prequel to my coffee shop AU <3
Rating: Teen Word Count: ~4k Pairing(s): Bitty/Parse Summary:
After a painful breakup with his first-ever boyfriend, Bitty is on a mission to prove something to himself. Thanks to an attractive stranger in a floral snapback, he learns something better instead.
Lotor would be the type to wear mom jeans, and floral patterned snapbacks, and probably really weird aesthetic style shirts that literally everyone looks at in confusion, Keith is embaressed to be seen with him, Shiro probably wears matching clothes with him -ghost (I will stand by Lotor being the dorkiest rich boy ever, fight me)
i love the concept of aesthetic boys shiro and lotor (they both make keith wanna cry;;; bc theyre so beautiful)
My version of "Things I associate with the MBTI types"
// binary codes, brown foxing marks on an old book, lab goggles, question marks, blueprints, quiet snores, bent wires, astronomy, old science museums, checkered clothing, drool over a textbook, rusty swings, low tides, snooze buttons
// matte black, broken stoplights, chipped wood, black leather boots, sea foam, spilt soda, constellations, wisps of smoke at night, rapid pulse rates, sun-kissed hair, vandalized bookshelves, cinnamon rolls, street lights on the pavement, moonlight through window blinds
// smirks, clip-on microphones, a messy sock drawer, muffled raindrops on the rooftop, a horizon at dawn, finger taps on a wooden tabletop, white pillow cases, fire crackling, crescent moon, flashlight under a blanket fort, scrunched eyebrows, grids, an abandoned journal
// blood stains, graffiti, metal rails, motorcycle helmets, tan lines, photo montages, an empty ice rink, shadow art, campfires and roasted marshmallows, a volcanic eruption, thrift shoppes, sunglasses, cacti, comets colliding
// snake venom, electronic cigarettes, metallic nail polish, white horses, cobblestone, blurred photographs, the periodic table of elements, snow globes, a packet of mixed nuts, white noise, almanacs, grey bed sheets, magnifying glasses, cluedo
// broken light bulbs, “danger” road signs, helicopters, tuxedos, golf clubs, rolling dice, one-way mirrors, roman numerals, skyscrapers, headlights, casinos, marble walls, black coffee, mahogany, black ink, arm wrestling
// 2-inch pumps, a 4ft tall stack of books, almond flakes, lockers, hair tied up in a low bun, ripped navy blue jeans, hazard signals, spinach, bunk beds, tailored coats, cupid’s bow lips, sand in between your toes, pandas, blue margaritas
// synchronized swimming, lounge music, shaved ice, scrabble, pinecones, bulletin boards, red wine, radars, 3D glasses, platforms, city ambience, fairie lights, bougainvilleas, caricature paintings, thunder
// white-ink tattoos, the crunching sound in your mouth, watermelon popsicles, face paint, roller skates, keychains, velvet skirts, soft brown locks of hair, hydrangea-scented fragrance mists, lockets, red telephone booths, milk tea, scrapbooks
// golden glitter, artsy stamps on yellow envelopes, carved oak, woven picnic baskets, white roses, rosaries, feather-stuffed pillows, ceramic porcelain vases, hair rollers, jackfruit, fuchsia lipstick, teacup pigs
// melted ice cream dripping down a waffle cone, bonsai plants, music boxes, fragile figurines, blueberry muffins, comic books, “eye floaters” when you scratch your eyes too hard, a floppy disk, four seasons flavoured juice, crispy bacon, reading glasses, sushi, blue nail polish
// the sound of crumpling paper bags, photo booths, recycling bins, tennis rackets, dry-cleaned coats, keys unlocking a door knob, dried mangoes, newspapers, the crab meat in ramen, beer mugs, gift cards, large mcdonald’s fries
// latte art, curtains at a theatre opening, a dead tree at winter, cherry-scented lip balms, maple syrup, calligraphy, fabric band-aids, silver artifacts, prunes, music sheets, eyeliner ruined by crying, b&w filters, sour patch kids lollipops
// fresh pastel yellow paint, lilacs, striped purple trousers, flower crowns, bubblegum wraps, sparklers on july 4th, loose sweaters, blue highlighters, paperclips, ribbons from a christmas gift, hot caramel fudge on top of a sundae, floral snapbacks, rain puddles in a pothole
// claude monet’s water lily artworks, penpal, the sound underwater, snow residue under your boots, coloured gel pens, going on a hike at 5am, a fabric canvas, coconut juice, christmas-themed socks, billiards, polka dot rompers
// feet up the dashboard, camera shutters, speakers at full blast, donut holes, helicopter landing pads, tangled hair, tequila shots, bubbles, hysteric laughter, lip bites, ballet rooms, rustling leaves, pick-up trucks, hoodies, smoky eyeshadow, the salty taste of a teardrop, dollar signs, quicksilver