Author Topic: Yale cartoonist Ngozi Ukazu's CHECK PLEASE a young gay hockey player (who bakes)  (Read 258147 times)

Offline CellarDweller

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  • A city boy's mentality, with a cowboy's soul.
fan art is too good!


Tell him when l come up to him and ask to play the record, l'm gonna say: ''Voulez-vous jouer ce disque?''
'Voulez-vous, will you kiss my dick?'
Will you play my record? One-track mind!

Offline fritzkep

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This whole series is great! Thanks!

Werd ich zum Augenblicke sagen, "Verweile doch! Du bist so schön..."

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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fan art is too good!


Thanks, Chuck! I'll have to post more things--there's a lot.  Get ready later in the week. Some of it is is even--raunchy--oops!  :o ::) :laugh:
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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This whole series is great! Thanks!

I'm glad you like it, Fritz, thanks for commenting, let alone looking at it or even liking it! I mean, I know I'm fairly obsessional about my latest crushes when they come out of the blue, but I never expect others to follow suit. More will be posted soon, I think!

 :)
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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OMGCHECKPLEASE!FANART_JACQUES_ZIMMERMANN
http://legojacques.tumblr.com/?soc_src=mail&soc_trk=ma


Omg. Ok--you think I'm crazy?
 (Well, yes, but--)
Some fans just have a lot more TIME
 on their hands than I do!  
::) :laugh: :laugh: :laugh:
   
   
   

385 notes @may 4 2016 (7 hours ago) 
# these two # *sigh* # zimbits # eric bittle # jack zimmermann





T. 24. Canadian.
Supposedly an adult. Kent Parson trash. Currently in Gay Hockey Hell.
Side blog of chrisevansleftboob (follows/likes from there).


http://legojacques.tumblr.com/?soc_src=mail&soc_trk=ma
« Last Edit: January 17, 2017, 04:52:50 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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OMGCHECKPLEASE!FANART_JACQUES_ZIMMERMANN
http://legojacques.tumblr.com/?soc_src=mail&soc_trk=ma


Ok, THIS is why CANADA Exists!

(That and J. Trudeau explaining how
quantum computing works!)

:laugh: :laugh: :laugh:

 
 

Source:
http://aust0nmatthews.tumblr.com/post/40351616271/ilya-kovalchuk-and-alexei-morozov-give-figure


DO YOU GUYS EVEN KNOW WHO I AM??

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auston_Matthews

(Well, I do now! I'm impressed!!  :o :o JG)


sabinmoon:   hazelxfaerie:   im-inlovewithahockeyplayer:

Everyone needs this on their dash from time to time

wait omg this is adorable

This is a TV show in Canada, called Battle of the Blades,
where hockey stars team up with figure skaters, to compete
in competitions to perform at the end of the season

299,851 notes @may 3 2016
# battle of the blades # i need an au zimbits fic of this pls 
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CHECKPLEASE!FANFIC
ANOTHER Check Please! Fic Rec List

SAMWELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
A Check, Please! fanfiction rec blog.

http://samwellslibrary.tumblr.com/


I previously posted THESE:

CHECKPLEASE!FANFIC
Check Please! Fic Rec List
(I'll add more when I can.)





« Last Edit: January 17, 2017, 04:53:25 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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« Last Edit: January 17, 2017, 04:54:34 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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CHECKPLEASE!FANFIC

Why yet another ANOTHER ANOTHER
highly excerpted/slightly expurgated piece of
Check Please! fanfic  by the same author,
jackzimmermann--??
Because I think he's really good, that's why,
and there HUNDREDS (thousands?) of
Check Please! fanfic stories with Bitty and Jack are
WEREWOLVES who go to school at Hogwarts.
You think I'm joking? Unfortunately, No.
I rilly just can't. Hence--this.

As before, click
the provided link below to read the full text
(the original is 15924 (!) words).





Chapter One

(....)

 

\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_
 

 
The first time Bittle tells Jack he loves him, it’s when Jack calls him after losing in Pittsburgh.

Playing against them is always rougher than it ought to be, playing against teams that his dad’s name is associated with always makes Jack’s blood itch under his skin. He’d been thrown in the box on a tripping penalty that was well deserved, even if Jack hadn’t meant to do it.

He’d left them short handed and it took all of a minute and a half for Crosby to score not once, but twice. The last thirty seconds of his time in the box had Jack’s knee bouncing, his gloved hands tight on his stick. When the penalty time ran out, he couldn’t get control of the play, and then when Bennett scored, the Falcs morale basically bottomed out part way through the third period.

When Bittle answers on the second ring, Jack doesn’t say anything after a whispered, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Bittle says, soft. “Sorry,” he says.

Jack whispers, “Yeah,” but it barely makes it out of his mouth. He doesn’t know how to explain; he’s looking up at the ceiling of his non-descript hotel room and all he can imagine is how the 20,000 people that fit into the Consol hate him, how they love his dad and how they think he’s a fucking asshole comparatively. His dad brought Pittsburgh a cup, and it was a long time ago, but hockey fans don’t forget.

He wants to tuck his nose into Bittle’s neck, wants to feel Bittle’s hand in his hair, wants to press their skin together and just breathe the same air as him.

Minutes pass, and Jack’s chest still feels tight, but he feels less antsy, less like his insides are trying to shake their way out of his skin. He still misses Bittle more than he ever thought he would, misses his dimples and the smell of his shampoo and how he drools in his sleep. Bittle doesn’t say anything, and Jack can’t hear him doing anything on the other end of the phone, can just barely hear his quiet breathing.

“Jack,” he whispers, and it’s not a question; he knows Jack’s still there. After a minute, he says, less raspy. “I love you.”

Jack closes his eyes, squeezes them tight. He exhales. Inhales again. “I know,” he says, throat tight, and the words feel like they’re stuck in the back of his throat. “I love you too,” Jack says, and knows that if he opens his eyes, they’ll well up with tears. “I just--I fucking miss you,” he says. “And I fucking hate playing here.”

“I know,” Bittle says. Jack rolls onto his side, his phone caught between his pillow and his ear. “You gonna be okay?”

“Gotta be,” Jack says, and Bittle’s breathing doesn’t change, but Jack knows he’s tense about it anyway. “It’s late. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bittle says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay,” Jack says, feeling a small smile tug at his lips.

“I meant it,” Bittle says.

“Me too,” Jack says. “Don’t stay up too late.”

 

\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_



Jack drives his car full of stuff from Samwell while Bittle takes Jack’s truck, drives it from Providence to Georgia and back, packs up the stuff he needs and moves out of his parents’ house for real. Jack had insured both cars under both their names last week, had Bittle’s name added to the lease on the condo.

Bittle’s mom comes up the next day, stays for four days. Jack doesn’t know much about her marriage to Bittle’s dad, but he knows that Suzanne loves Bittle with her whole heart, genuinely doesn’t care about his relationship with Jack outside of the context of Bittle’s happiness. Jack’s parents fly in on the Saturday, and they eat dinner up on the roof of the building, and Jack is nervous about it in an easy way.

The Falcs fell out of the playoffs in the second round, but it was an easier loss than last season, and Jack has enough going on in his life now that he’s managed to make sure hockey isn’t everything, tries to balance his sense of worth across different things. They had a great season, he’d formed stronger friendships with people on the team other than Sharpy.

The anxiety he feels about his parents and Bittle’s mom sitting on patio chairs, eating dinner with their plates in their laps, laughing over too many bottles of wine--it’s less like shaky limbs and more like butterflies in his stomach. They all know that Bittle and him share a bed, that they do their laundry together. They all know something intrinsic to Jack’s daily experience, to Jack’s happiness, and they’re not going to expose him, they’re not going to do anything, really, other than love him and be happy for him and try to help him in his slow and slightly embarrassing attempt to merge their families.

And Jack’s not embarrassed to love Bittle, but he sometimes feels like Bittle doesn’t understand how massive a thing it is to Jack. That Bittle takes up as much space in Jack’s chest as hockey does, that he wants their clothes to smell like the same laundry detergent for their entire lives, that sometimes Jack wakes up and can’t breathe because he’s so fucking lucky, and he doesn’t want any of that to change. Jack’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest on a regular basis, the enormity of his affection for Bittle blindsiding him. He’s so used to his own mental version of crisis management that it’s hard to deal with how happy he feels, how full and loved and whole he feels. It’s embarrassing only because he thinks it’s really, really obvious that he loves Bittle more than anything else, and he doesn’t question Bittle’s returned affection. But Jack stutters around it--feels flushed and too warm with it--whereas Bittle is good at knocking his shoulder into Jack when they’re in the grocery store, teases Jack and kisses Jack like the weight of it isn’t all-encompassing, and Jack doesn’t think it’ll ever be that way for him.

 

\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_



(....)



Tribby skates up to Jack during warm up. “Hey,” he says. “Would you be free to practice handoffs with me after?” Jack knows Triber has been feeling nervous about being moved to Jack’s line. He deserves it, though. He’s small, but he’s fast and he might be a better playmaker than Jack is himself. Jack likes him.

“Sure,” Jack says.

They set up cones around the ice, practice passing back and forth as fast as they can. Jack makes Triber do more spins than he normally would, because it’s fun, and Triber has better feet than he thinks he does.

“I’m dizzy,” Tribby says. “Your boyfriend’s a bad influence on you.”

Jack smiles, because it’s the opposite of true, and they both know it.

He shrugs, and Tribby rolls his eyes.

“Hey Zimmy,” he says, quieter than Jack’s ever heard him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

It’s part of being captain, Jack understands. It’s a big part of why he wanted to come out to the guys before Bittle had graduated; it’s easier for him to try to help his team, to be approachable and relatable if they know something about him.

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Yeah, Caleb, of course.”

Tribby shuffles on his skates a bit. “How’d you know you wanted to live with Eric?”

“Oh,” Jack says.”Um, I mean, I lived with him when we were at Samwell together.”

“But you weren’t, uh.” He waves his gloved hand in front of his face vaguely. “Before. Right?”

“We weren’t together, no.” Triber still looks at odds, so Jack sighs. “It’s like,” he pauses, because he wants to get the words right. “I liked him a lot when I was there, but I didn’t realize how much until I wasn’t around him anymore. I spent a long time thinking there was something wrong with me, that if I worked at it hard enough, I wouldn’t miss him anymore. Once we got over our shit, I knew that I didn’t really want to be away from him ever.”

Sometimes, when Jack’s skin is clammy, when Bittle is inside him, when Jack’s skin feels like it’s shaking from his bones, he still misses Bittle. Jack thinks they could be fused together and they still wouldn’t be close enough. “I think,” Jack says, smiling, “that when something is right, and when it matters, decisions like that are easy. They don’t even feel like decisions.”

To Jack’s surprise, Triber smiles. “I think,” he starts, and he sounds a bit embarrassed. “I think I already decided what I want, I think I just wanted you to confirm it out loud.”

Jack laughs. “Look, it’s not always easy. It’s great a lot of the time, but sometimes you’re screaming about, like, dirty socks on the floor and you can’t understand why.”

“Thanks, Zimmy,” Triber says. “Wanna skate some suicides before we pack it in?”

“Jesus,” Jack says, laughing. “You’re ruthless.”

“You afraid I’m faster than your fat ass?”

“I know you’re faster,” Jack laughs.



\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_

 


Bittle is skyping with his mom when Jack walks in the door. He tosses his keys on the counter and grabs a banana from the counter before perching his chin over the back of the couch behind Bittle. He leans down to say, “Hi Suzanne,” before pecking Bittle on the cheek.

Bittle blushes, and Jack smiles, and Suzanne just says, “Hi honey, how’re you doing?”

“Good,” Jack says. He takes a bite of his banana, swallows. “How’ve you been? Eric made that steak-stir fry recipe you sent last week. It was amazing.”

“I’ve been doin’ real well,” she says. “I’m glad y’liked it.”

Bittle goes back to talking about whatever they were talking about when Jack interrupted, and Jack zones out a bit while listening to them. Bittle’s accent is always a bit thicker when he talks to his parents. Jack’s not sure if it’s on purpose, or if it’s just instinct. He wonders if Bittle even knows that he does it.

“I love you too, mama,” Bittle says.

“Bye Dicky. It was good to see you, Jack. For the given value of ‘see.’”

Jack snaps back into the conversation, smiles at her through the computer screen. “Likewise.”

“Bye,” Bittle says, and he waves, then waits for the call to end on his mom’s end before shutting his laptop. He leans back on the couch, tilts his head back so that he’s looking up at Jack, nearly upside down. Jack leans in to kiss him, his nose pressing into Bittle’s chin. “How was practice?” he asks, mumbling against Jack’s mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against Bittle’s lips. “It was,” he says between kisses, “pretty good.” He nips at Bittle’s lip with his teeth. “Ran drills with Triber after. Talked.”

Bittle pulls back, straightens his neck before turning around to face Jack properly, knees pressed into the back of the couch. “Good talk?” Bittle asks as he runs his fingers softly along the side of Jack’s cheek, around the shell of his ears, down to cup at the sides of his neck.

Jack lets his own hands call over the couch, traces Bittle’s shoulder blades mindlessly. “Yeah,” he says, nods, runs his nose along Bittle’s. “I think he wants to ask Webs to live with him.”

“Does anyone other than you know?”

Jack lifts his shoulders. “Not sure,” he says. “They must, right?”

“I mean if they haven’t said anything,” Bittle says, and he trails off. Jack kisses the corner of his mouth softly.

“Lay back,” Jack says, and Bittle moves back and Jack throws his body weight over the back of the couch, falls onto Bittle.

Bittle’s breath falls out of him in a huff, but he starts laughing, his chest shaking against Jack’s, his face pressed into Jack’s neck. “Goodness,” he says, half-choked with laughter.

“I think they’re happy,” Jack says when Bittle’s laughter slows. “Makes it seem obvious to me.”

“But you didn’t know before they told you,” Bittle says. “Do you think the rest of the guys’ll assume?” He pulls his arms out from under where Jack had trapped them between their bodies, splays them across the middle of Jack’s back.

“Maybe,” Jack says, then pauses. “Probably not, actually. They’ll just think it’s, you know, buddies.”

“Buddies,” Bittle says, then he’s laughing again. “Oooh, Zach, I love you so much, I love sucking your dick so much, I’m so glad we’re buddies.” Bittle’s Canadian accent needs work, but Jack laughs anyway.

“Ooh, Caleb, stick it in my ass like buddies do.” To be fair, Jack’s American accent isn’t much better.

Bittle laughs, then kisses Jack’s neck softly, close lipped and sweet. “I’m glad we never did that,” he says.

Jack wedges his arm between Bittle’s side and the back of the couch,  props himself up to look Bittle in the eye. “Me too,” he says, and smiles down at Bittle. “I’m glad I get to love you properly,” he says, which would be embarrassing if it weren’t so honest.

Bittle leans up to kiss Jack, his lips still closed but pressing against Jack with force anyway. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that,” he says when he pulls away. Bittle has always been quick to blush, but Jack can’t get enough of how his cheek’s still colour when Jack whispers the words into his skin. “I love you,” Bittle says. “So fucking much, it’s stupid.”

“If you’re stupid then I’m a lost cause,” Jack says.

“I feel like my heart’s going to explode,” Bittle says, and it comes out breathy, like he can’t believe it, and he laughs a bit. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“I missed you today,” Jack says. “If you’re crazy, it’s a good thing I’m certified nutso.”

Bittle rearranges them on the couch so that they’re curled into each other on their sides. “Still love the pants offa you,” Bittle says once they’re settled again.

Jack wiggles his hips against Bittle jokingly, not really wanting to start anything--not wanting to do anything other than catalogue Bittle’s freckles from so close that he goes cross-eyed trying to count them.

There’s not really room on the couch for the two of them, but Jack feels settled and calm in a way that’s hard for him to reach, hard for him to hold onto. He doesn’t want to shatter it by suggesting they move their non-nap to their bed.

Marguerite walks up to the couch and yips once, then jumps up onto where their feet are tangled, squishes her way into the space between their legs and the side of the couch. “She’s pushy,” Bittle says, like it’s surprising, like he hasn’t been living with her for months.

“Wonder where she got that from,” Jack says. Bittle pinches his side, and Jack licks a line up the side of Bittle cheek.

“You’re disgusting,” Bittle says, laughing. “Maybe you take after her, actually.”

“Whatever,” Jack says, his fingers dragging gently at Bittle’s hip. “You love me.”



\_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_  \_



(....)






Notes:

this is a part of a series, and probably won't make too much sense if you haven't read the other parts, but it might still be manageable. this is going up as a wip because idrilka http://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilka/pseuds/idrilka  twisted my rubber arm, so you can place praise or blame accordingly. the title of this story is taken from a novel by ronan bennett by the same name.

(as with the original story in this series, it's set from jack's pov, so sometimes there're moments that are heavy with anxiety. warning for mental health and a related narrative. however, this piece is a lot happier than of 'the nature of the wound' http://archiveofourown.org/works/4129419/chapters/9310068 )

while this story is focused around omgcp characters, there are some name drops for the sake of hockey. ergo: here be dragons. this is a work of fiction. /// there is no allusion, mention, or appearance of pk*ne in this story.

thank you to alex and quinn for the read throughs/friendship.





Rating:                     Not Rated
Archive Warning:     Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:                 M/M
Fandom:                  Check Please! (Webcomic), Hockey RPF
Relationship:            Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, OMC/OMC  Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight
Characters:            Hockey Ensemble
Additional Tags:     Established Relationship  Domesticity  Family Drama  Jack Knew First
Language:            English
Series:                   Part 4 of 'the messes of men' series http://archiveofourown.org/series/289874
Stats:                    Published: 2015-08-10  Updated: 2016-02-22  Words: 15924  Chapters: 4/8  Comments: 130  Kudos: 785  Bookmarks: 87     Hits: 10360
« Last Edit: January 17, 2017, 04:55:17 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"

Offline Aloysius J. Gleek

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http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/episodes



FYI: Christopher Chow ("Chowder") is a year behind Bittle, a Frosh. He is straight, has a serious girlfriend (young, volleyball athlete), he is VERY cheerful, VERY enthusiastic, even awed by his older team members, and very, VERY sensitive.

Chowder had been living in the dorms, while Bittle had been living in the Haus since last Summer (his room is across the hall from Jack's) as Johnson, the erstwhile 'metaphysical goalie' who was graduating, bequeathed his VERY good room to Bittle (shocking everyone, especially Lardo, the Haus manager) via the time-honored Dibs system. This sets this scene with Chowder and Jack--Jack is ALWAYS very serious, but he is always kind:



SEASON 2: SOPHOMORE YEAR
SPRING
2015 Dibs
http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/page/4?soc_src=mail&soc_trk=ma














HA!!! Again, as posted on the previous page:


















But be aware: see the yellow sticky on the laptop next to Jack's pillow? The written list item 'cadeau d'anniversaire' under Bittle's name was the beginning of the surprise birthday party Jack organized for Bittle. Aww! Jack is very, very serious, but also VERY sweet--like giving Chowder his room in the Haus.









“Bittle thinks I forgot his birthday.” X MAY 5TH 2015 36,539 NOTES




« Last Edit: January 17, 2017, 04:56:58 pm by Aloysius J. Gleek »
"Tu doives entendre je t'aime."
(and you know who I am...)


Cowboy Curtis (Laurence Fishburne)
and Pee-wee in the 1990 episode
"Camping Out"