Check, Please! Fanfic

NOW COMPLETE!!! FINALLY!!!

If you love metatexual fuckery as much as I do, you HAVE TO read this fic. Even if you don't normally read check please fic, if you know Jack's backstory and who Johnson is/his schtick, you know enough to enjoy the fic.

I’ve decided to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time: combine the comic, blog posts, extras, and tweets from Check, Please! into one document, because I’m crazy.

I read the main comic the night of The Sophomore Year Kiss™ and went back to read the extras shortly after. Going back and reading the extras was a daunting task back in 2016, and it’s much harder today - there’s so much stuff! Not to mention that Bitty’s Twitter was private by the time I started reading the comic, so I didn’t see most of the tweets until Chirpbook was published. Plus, I struggle to find all the blog posts on the official site, and I am a blog post truther! Sophomore Year doesn’t hit the same without the commentary! Nothing emotionally destroys me like: “The secret to drawing a younger Jack is making him smile, the end. Hahaha, now we’re all sad.” Lastly, some of my friends love the comic and find both Tumblr and the official site hard to navigate, so I wanted to make this a resource for them so they don’t miss out on all those delightful ask-a-wellies and sketch jams.

What I always wanted was to have that true multi-platform experience (comics, blogs, tweets, and extras) in order. With that, I present this slideshow.

The extras on these slides are ONLY things that (as far as I know) aren't available anywhere other than Tumblr/the website. Please buy the comic and also Chirpbook and Madison and the Huddles. They’re worth every penny!!!!!! (seriously please please please please this comic is so good you want to give Ngozi all of your money please please please you want to so bad subscribe to the patreon while you're at it)

Also, if you want to help with this project, think anything should be edited, or have ideas on how to make it more effective/better/fun, please let me know! I just love this comic so much!!! I have only done through the end of Year 2 right now.

Jack tries to watch heated rivalry.

👋 Hi Wellies,

First—

Ukazu says, a rising tide lifts all boats, including the S.S. Check, Please! She’s hopeful that the success of Heated Rivalry, as well as another queer romance graphic novel-turned-TV show Heartstopper, will make the dream of seeing her work onscreen into a reality: The book has been optioned for adaptation. — Vanity Fair

Check, Please! has been optioned for a film/television adaptation. A while ago, actually—and that’s lovely. Nevertheless, the vast majority of options do not become television because it takes a million things going right to get projects off the ground.

That being said.

Ahem.

Speaking of getting projects off the ground...

From when Bitty first stepped out into the rink at Faber, to when he kissed the ice at graduation, we've all been part of this fun, weird, magical world of Samwell hockey. But when I left the world of Samwell hockey, I left knowing Jack and Bitty's story was done. Bitty's journey as the first openly gay NCAA Division I hockey captain was done. We baked the last pie; we shut off the lights at the kegster; the story was complete.

…But as I looked around I realized, I had one more story to tell.

Which is why I'm thrilled to announce that a brand new volume of Check, Please! will be serialized in 2026. Dozens of new comics, exciting update drops, your favorite characters with brand new storylines, and characters you've yet to meet.

Hello, Internet Land—SMH is coming home.

This fifth year of Check, Please! will be filled with shenanigans, drama, hockey, pies, Haus parties, and a new message of acceptance that is near and dear to me. And it's been brewing over the last year and half! But with the latest boom in queer hockey stories, I figured, hey! ¯\(ツ)/¯ Here's another one to look forward to. :)

Marginalized athletes still face harmful bigotry, and for this reason, queer sports stories are more important than ever. I love Samwell hockey and how each of you has embraced this roster of athletes.

There's so much more to come.

Ngozi 🏒🥧❤️

=

MORE NEWS? SURE:

HOLY SHIT

GUYS IM UP IM HERE WE'RE SO FUCKING BACK

onawingandaswear

Summary:

In 2009, Jack Zimmermann doesn't just walk away from his future, he packs a bag and runs.

However, since Bitty doesn’t personally watch hockey and actively avoids it, he doesn’t think it’ll be a problem and just jokes about it to Jack, the cute Canadian guy who he’s pretty sure is a sports photographer

@backwardscapsmh this is what I meant EXACTLY

It gets worse by the fact that Bitty highkey does NOT recognize a single player except for people not on the Falcs and the somewhat nearby teams, so Jack keeps accidentally introducing Bitty to hockey players and they keep buying stuff

Snowy follows Jack to the bakery one day and just goes ‘Oh chill’ and Bitty thinks that he’s Jack’s art friend

Tater follows Jack once and Jack steps on his foot every time he tries to say his name is ‘Tater’ (since Ransom loves him), but Bitty thinks that Tater is just a Russian dude who works at the same magazine place Jack does

Georgia hears about it and Jack tags along one day, but Bitty recognizes Georgia as a past hockey player and just jokes with her “I’m glad y'all didn’t bring your team with you!” and Georgia makes direct eye contact with Jack

Kent tries going in once (while Jack was chatting with Bitty) and before he can even get a word out, Bitty shuts down the register, closes the displays, grabs the broom and tells Kent he’s not welcome here

Bob: I’m so glad my son found such a good *friend* (gives a look at Bitty) especially with his job

Bitty: Oh really?

Bob: Yeah, I remember how hard it was for me before I met Alicia! All the fame and stuff really made it difficult

Bitty: Oh! You’re famous??

Bob: I mean, kinda?

Bitty: Oh wow! I didn’t know Jack got his photography talent from his dad!

Bob: What-

Bitty: Where can I see y'all’s work? Jack keeps it a secret, but I wanna know your’s at least!

Bob: UM-

When Alicia walks in, Bitty freaks out, and asks for a photograph since “I didn’t even realize you were in the area!” While Alicia is looking at Bob with the most ??? Face imaginable

Bob then has to pretend that he’s not MARRIED to Alicia for the duration of their visit since Bitty can’t make the connection with them to hockey or else Jack’s cover is blown

(via @otterlyrandom​ )

I’M CACKLING I LOVE THIS

So it works because Bitty tried to start small talk with the hot French Canadian guy who visits his bakery, but gets nervous every time, so he never really can say anything at first. The guy is always a bit curt and quick about his business, and holds his camera like a lifeline sometimes, so Bitty makes sure not to make him uncomfortable, but is interested in him for sure.

But then towards the end of one day, Halo gets put on and Bitty starts singing along while cleaning up the bakery. Bitty turns and accidentally makes direct eye contact with Jack, who was the only person there still, who has his cup halfway to his mouth and an amused look on his face.

Bitty is obviously embarrassed, but then Jack is like “I guess you like this song, huh?” and Bitty goes “Of course I love this song, who doesn’t like Beyoncé?” and Jack goes, “Beyoncé? Is she well known then?”

Dead silence.

Bitty just drops the broom he was holding. Jack looks concerned. Bitty looks horrified.

“Hun, how do you not know Beyoncé? HOW??”

Jack just looks away and is embarrassed and tells Bitty he’s been pretty “caught up in my job, travelling and stuff” and hasn’t had the time to really know pop culture. Plus, he’s French Canadian. 

Bitty then immediately starts to chat with Jack about different artists and pop culture in general, and learns that Jack genuinely just knows none of it. Nothing. Jack has no reference point, he only knows country music. Out of everything. Country. Music.

Bitty then declares that Jack has to let him teach him pop culture if he wants to keep coming to his bakery because “I will not let a single person into this establishment if they don’t know BEYONCÉ!” Bitty is worried he took that too far but then Jack laughs (and it’s a wonderful sound that Bitty unashamedly tucks into his memory) and agrees. As Jack leaves, Bitty just watches him go, realizes the first conversation he had with the hot guy was about him not knowing pop culture and berating him for 15 minutes, and Bitty justs slams his head into the table

(explicit text ahead... obviously)

“So you remember,” Holster starts, leaning against the counter, “how sophomore year, we had that talk with Bitty? About the—”

Ransom’s already nodding from the table. “The people you’ll love in college, yeah,” he says. “What about it?”

There’s the classmate you crush on every time they write something down. There’s the person you see once across a party and speak to once — just once, that’s crucial — just a fleeting moment of wow, the universe got this one right before you kiss and never see each other again. There’s the person you wreck your sleep schedule for, the person you shouldn’t end up with but do, the one whose number you delete years afterwards after being bolstered with cheap booze and your best friends. There might be a first kiss, there might be a first time, there might be someone sweet you go on dates with to pass the semester; each of those is a love in its own way. And there’s all of your friends. Everyone’s a little in love with their friends. 

Holster doesn’t really know why it’s coming up now when he’s spent years being okay with it, but it’s that class they shared freshman year, and it’s that time they kissed in the corner of a party and never talked about it afterward. And it’s definitely, definitely that sleepless, frantic night built on years of waiting and wanting and hoping, staying up too late and blinking bleary-eyed at the next morning, bedsheets spilling onto the floor before finally stepping back into reality.

“You’re all of them for me,” he says. “All of them. At least in some way or another. I think I’ve fallen in love with you at least a thousand times since I’ve known you.”

“Oh,” Ransom says softly. “Hey, Holtzy.”

It’s a come here and an I want you, don’t you see that, and Holster loves him. Holster loves him as he walks toward him, and Holster loves him as he takes his hands, and Holster loves him as he cradles Rans’ face, loves him as Rans pulls him in for a kiss. 

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

___________

Jack looks up from the soda gun and finds Bitty waiting patiently among the rowdy crew lining the bar, wearing a fitted suit with a small Penguins pin on the lapel. Bitty’s hand, extended to offer a folded twenty braced between his knuckles, bears a glittering NCAA championship ring. Upon gaining Jack’s attention, he smiles timidly, showing off his missing tooth, and Jack loses focus long enough to overflow the the glass in his hand.

“Tabarnak,” he curses, shaking dry as Bitty fights a laugh; abandoning the mixed drink to pull Bitty’s usual beer from the cooler, prying off the lid with his own championship ring as Eric looks on appreciatively.

“You’re going to have to teach me that one so I can impress all my hot dates.”

“Getting a lot of offers, eh?”

“A few,” Bitty teases, bringing the bottle to his lips slowly, deliberately, completely oblivious to the women trying to get his attention as he watches Jack. “One I’m particularly interested in pursuing.”

This is flirting. Jack knows this is flirting, because what the hell else could it possibly be?

“So, liking our Friday night bro-downs with the Pens, eh? Straight enough for ESPN, gay enough to hold a bachelorette party’s attention; and I’m not just talking about my ass.”

Jack will never admit to practicing that line in the shower, but he is extremely proud when Eric snorts hard and starts to cough, waving off assistance from a statuesque woman beside him.

“Please don’t die, I don’t want to have to put up another memorial plaque.”

Ransom whistles sharply, and Jack just misses getting beaned with a champagne bottle, so distracted by Eric’s distress. “Behind you, Boss, we need a couple bottles of Lagavulin upstairs — the guys are doing shots. It’s somebody’s birthday, I think.”

“Boss?” Bitty clears his throat, bringing Jack’s attention back. “You’re ‘Boss’, now? Did you get promoted?”

“Always was! It’s my place!” Jack calls over Ransom’s shoulder. Bitty gives him a confused look, so Jack turns slowly, deliberately, to his framed Las Vegas Aces jersey — hung dutifully beside his father’s vintage Pens sweater — and gestures between himself and the display above the bar. Back and forth, back and forth, until Bitty’s eyes go wide with recognition.

“Wait, that’s you? You played?”

“What, you though those medals in the corner are just for show?” Jack jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m practically a legend.”

‘A big, gay legend’, Jack doesn’t say. ‘How the hell don’t you know who I am?’

“I didn’t — I’m sorry, I thought you were just a bartender.”

There is something flattering about Bittle admitting he didn’t recognize Jack; it adds a welcome context to their past meetings and floods Jack with a sense of pride. A handsome, professional athlete had showed genuine interest in a waiter with a limp. The old ‘Zimmermann Charm’ brings it home again.

“I mean, I am. Also, the owner. I’m retired.”

“You thought I recognized you,” Bittle realizes, shock abating as he looks around the bar with new eyes. “And you recognized me. I’m so stupid,” Bittle covers his face with his hands, but Jack can still see the man’s ears go pink. “Who wanders in to a sports bar and doesn’t expect to get recognized. A gay sports bar!”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Jack assuages, reaching over the pat him on the shoulder gently (awkwardly). “And if it helps you’re not that well known.”

Bittle drops his hands and shoots Jack a withering look.

“Yet.” Jack amends sagely. “You need a minute? Rans! Cover for ten.”

Ransom flashes a thumbs up that becomes two thumbs up when he notices Bittle.  “Won’t yell if I need you, Jack.”

__________

“It’s a little quieter back here, you can process without witnesses.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together, of course you’re you, god how didn’t I put it together, my god, your ass, of course you play —”

“Past tense.”

“I know,” Bitty decries, gesturing at his own face as if to mimic Jack’s facial hair. “I know who you are but I didn’t know you were you. You can’t tell the guys this. They won’t let me live it down.”

“For several reasons, I bet.” Jack fights the stiffness in his knee and comes around his desk to face Bitty properly.  “Can I kiss you?”

Bitty nods eagerly, and Jack swoops in to capture the man’s lips, relishing Bitty’s excited whine at the contact, his arms coming to rest on Jack’s hips, holding him tightly.

“I’m not out,” Bitty breathes when they separate. “No one knows.”

“I won’t say anything,” Jack laces his fingers in Bitty’s hair and tugging him back up. “But I am out. So, if you’re planning on hanging around, people are going to talk. Having been out of the spotlight for five years means I’m in extremely high demand. TMZ follows me everywhere.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Bitty breathes against Jack’s lips. “I like you, a whole lot, even before I knew you played. And you’re so damn pretty —”

Jack shoves some papers aside and sits down on the edge of his desk so he’s at a better height allowing Bittle to stand between his spread thighs as they make out like horny teenagers stealing a moment behind the bleachers; Bitty finally taking initiative and getting handsy, much to Jack’s delight. At least until Jack loses track of time and there’s a loud banging on the office door.

“Yo! Jack! Penobscott just puked all over Sid’s date you gotta get out here.”

“I’m busy, Shits!” Jack calls, holding the back of Bitty’s head steady as the man tries to suck a hickey onto Jack’s neck. “Get someone else to handle it!”

“What, you jacking it in there? That’s a health code violation, man. Don’t make me report you.”

Bitty moves to cup his palm over Jack’s crotch, rubbing the heel of his hand over a very sensitive area robbing vital blood from Jack’s brain. “I’m on a call — with a new vendor.” Jack raises his voice, chasing a kiss as Bitty gropes away. “Give me ten?”

“Only ten?” Bitty whispers.

“You are a little shit, eh?” Jack rasps, nipping at Bitty’s ear. “Look at you.”

“Jack!”

________