jack for the win

Insecurities | J.A

Warnings: One curse word? // It’s short as heck and I probably write too much Jack fluff but here we are anyway.

“Baby?” Jack’s voice called from the bathroom, before eventually walking into his bedroom where you were currently doing your makeup. “Have you seen my contacts? I swear I had a pair left.”

“No, sorry babe.” You kept your back turned to him, solely because if you let him see your face he’d see right through your lie. 

The truth is you really wanted your boyfriend to wear his glasses more often and since he was about to run out of contact lenses, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad if you just hid his last pair. 

Jack let out a groan and flopped himself down onto the bed, knocking some of your makeup off of it in the process. You glared at him but continued to put foundation on your face.

“Why are you staring at me?” You shoved his shoulder lightly, hoping he didn’t see you blushing. 

The room filled with Jack’s laugh as he poked your cheek, getting some makeup on his finger. “Ew, you don’t even need this shit.” 

He’d told you those words before and you wanted to believe him, but your self-esteem lifted a good fifty percent when you were wearing makeup. You rolled your eyes as Jack wiped your foundation off his finger and onto his sweatpants, such a boy. 

“I wish you could see yourself from my eyes.” Jack sighed. 

“You can’t even see me from your eyes right now.” You laughed.

He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, put them on his face and sat behind you so that you could see his reflection in the mirror as well as your own, “Oh look at that. You’re still beautiful.” 

You thought Jack looked perfect, messy hair, glasses and all. His freckles were a little more prominent than usual and you found them adorable. Looking at your own reflection next to his, made you feel a little disorientated. What did you look like in his eyes?

“Please don’t be nice to me.” You suddenly felt really guilty, you shouldn’t have purposely taken away something that makes him feel better about one of his insecurities. Especially since, if the roles had been reversed you would’ve lost your damn mind. 

“I can’t be nice to my girlfriend?” Jack fake gasped, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. 

“Jack, I hid your contacts on purpose,” You blurted, not being able to handle the guilt anymore. “I’m sorry, I didn’t do it to be awful I just-” 

“I know.” Jack interrupted you before you could say anything else, leaning against you as he did so. He started leaving kisses on your right shoulder, which sent shivers up your arms. 

You sat there with your face screwed up, looking ridiculous with only one part of your face covered in makeup and a confused expression. “You know?” 

“You couldn’t lie to me if you tried, baby girl.” He smiled at you, no trace of hurt or anger anywhere on his face. 

He truly was the most understanding and amazing boyfriend you’d ever had, he didn’t get angry when you were acting like a hypocrite even when you think he maybe should have. 

“I just wish you wore your glasses more, you look really good in them.” You mumbled, a little embarrassed with yourself. 

“And I wish you didn’t feel like you need makeup to be pretty.” Jack challenged you and you knew you weren’t going to win this one. You sighed, but nodded in agreement. 

“How about we make a deal, you wash that off your face and I’ll wear my glasses all day.” He offered, a grin spread across his face. 

So that’s exactly what you did and Jack spent the rest of the day cuddling into you, kissing all over your face and telling you how beautiful you were. 

Just as much as you spent your time playing with his hair, kissing him back and telling him how amazing he looked in his glasses. 

You both had your insecurities, but you also had each other. 

2

Agent Carter Golden Age fancast

Lauren Bacall as Agent Peggy Carter
Leslie Howard as Edwin Jarvis
Errol Flynn as Chief Jack Thompson
Gregory Peck as Chief Daniel Sousa
James Cagney as Chief Roger Dooley
Vivien Leigh as Dottie Underwood
Clark Gable as Howard Stark
Hedy Lamarr as Whitney Frost

I can imagine Howard talking for hours how he wishes to produce a movie about Peggy’s adventures… and he would if Leslie Howard (his only option for Jarvis) hadn’t died in the 43.

( sneak peek, poster )

Headcanon that Ransom and Holster periodically roadtrip up to NY (where there are Tim Horton’s) during Roll up the Rim season. Or you know which ever closest state has a Timmies.

Did Jack go, you ask?

99% of the time he says no, because obviously he had to concentrate on school work and captain-y stuff. Also the coffee at Annie’s is probably superior anyway. But Rans and Holster usually bring him back some sort of drink anyway cause they’re good bros. Jack rolls his eyes but goes along with it anyway, sometimes warming up the now cold coffee or just dumping it. Jack’s cup is almost always a winner, which pisses Holster and Ransom off to no end, but they keep doing it anyway.  

The first year after Jack has graduated, the boys show up on his doorstep the day Roll up the Rim starts with a cup for him. 

Jack does not cry because he loves his friends and their stupid traditions. He doesn’t. Really. 

Hot Off The Press

Another AU where Jacky-Boy is a hockey player and Bitty has a job that involves hockey bc that’s my aesthetic. Anyway, I really know nothing about how the world of sports journalism works so there is probably some inaccuracies in here, but it’s an AU so who cares. Artistic license and all that. Very slightly NSFW (i just wanted to get all the warnings out there). 

***

“Are you into men?”

Jack has been asked this question before, but in such a subtle way (and typically involving Parson) that it’s easy to avoid. No reporter has ever straight out asked him. Besides, he’s not gay. He’s bisexual. So when Jack usually tells them, “No.” it’s not a lie. However, this time it feels different. Maybe it wasn’t just this particular time, but all the times added onto each other that’s finally causing him to really think about what hole he’s digging himself into.

The blunt question has him feeling panicky and the other presser notice his reaction too. Jack can’t say no, because that’s not true. He is into men. Jack’s panic quickly shifts, and now he just feels like shoving the microphones away and storming out, because this is hockey goddammit. Not E! news.

“Excuse me?” Jack clears his throat, trying to buy himself some time to think of a properly crafted response. Over the years, he’s developed a talent for that.

But everything is on overdrive and he feels his breath start to quicken again–

“Are you into men?” Another reporter asks, and it takes Jack a moment to realize that the reporter isn’t asking him. He’s asking the man who popped the question in the first place.

 All attention, including Jack’s, turns to the small blonde that got lost in the bundle of people. He holds up his mic towards the reporter who popped the question in the first place. 

Keep reading

Royal!Bitty AU

(Hey, why is Jack the one who’s always literal royalty? Let’s get some royal!Bitty love up in here! So, Royal!Bitty AU -or- ‘How do you play a contact sport with bodyguards?’)

_______________

Now that Jack and Bitty have come out, nosy journalists are trying to dig up anything they can on the Bittles.

It doesn’t take long for someone to find one of the family’s most guarded secrets: that MooMaw was the secret half-daughter of the recently deceased King of *jackhammer sound*.   

Bitty’s great uncle, the childless, current King of *car horn*, wants to meet his long-lost American sister and her family. King Whatshisface takes a shine to Suzanne and Coach and Bitty and basically tries to repatriate the entire Bittle clan. 

In true Princess Diaries fashion, Bitty gets made up and over as the country’s new media darling, and everyone is calling him ‘Prince Eric’ (even though he’s technically a Duke? Maybe?), and suddenly Jack is the one dealing with an entirely new type of attention because he’s dating the world’s first openly gay royal.

**Bonus: Jack gets all blushy and stupid calling Bitty ‘Prince Charming’, and Bob keeps trying to get Coach to knight him 

Honestly like all shade and I’m a loser but going out to a bar pisses me off and gets me in a bad mood cuz I see straight people who haven’t even brushed their teeth in 36 hours get to have the time of their life and do whatever they want while I have to sit in a booth drinking a whiskey on ice cuz I’m trying to be masc and still can’t get a date??? I’d rather do a sudoku in bed and jack off to wheel of fortune … at least sometimes people win on that show cuz gay people can spell better than straight guys named Jeffrey

I think as a fandom we don’t talk enough about Bitty in the NHL.

I mean, I know he loves pies but he does love Hockey. There’s a lot of stuff in year one about how Jack plays better with Bittle on his line - the coaches say it and Bob suggests it on the parents weekend too. It seems like the kind of thing Georgia Martin might pick up on. And she’s a little hesitant because she KNOWS about Jack and Bitty and doesn’t want to mess with relationship dynamics but…

So Bitty gets drafted to the HNL. Or, rather, spends half a season playing for the AHL: raising his fitness levels and getting some help getting over the final bits of his checking fear. Then someone’s injured and he’s called up and when he gets on a line with Jack it’s just as magic as always.

They are amazing on the ice together. You can almost feel all the people who’ve inevitably criticise Bitty for being too small or too ‘delicate’ going quiet when they realise just how fucking good he and Jack are together on the ice.

And it’s great for Jack and Bitty. No Bitty at home alone for a lump of the season, when Jack’s off playing, Bitty’s right there with him. A five game roadie is still hell but it’s less hell when you’re boyfriend’s there every night to tell you hs loves you. They sit together on the plane and bus and room together (obviously) and it’s pretty awesome. And they bring a kind of stability to the team which really helps.

Then, in Bitty’s first full year of the NHL, they win the Stanley Cup.

Bitty gets the winning goal. With 30 seconds on the clock.

And he’s flashing back to the Yale game in their first year of college because he KNOWS how much winning means to Jack. So he turned to look for him on the ice when the wistle blows and Jack is just there grinning and lifting Bitty up into his arms and kissing him in front of the cameras and the Stanley Cup and everyone because he is so fucking proud of Bitty for that goal.

And then they’re basically like hockey royalty and super famous and in love and they have their cup day on their wedding day and then they have to win another cup together so they can put their baby in it and it’s awesome.

I was rereading the comic right before Jack and Shitty’s last game and Shitty says that if they win he gets a lifetime supply of Jack Zimmermann hugs. Well, obviously they lost. But, I was thinking about everything and… here you go.


Tater leaves the Christmas celebration after a slice of pie, bowing out by saying he needs to Skype with his mother. It gives the apartment the odd, after-Christmas feeling where nothing feels quite real. 

But it’s nice, just Jack and Bitty and Shitty in the kitchen, similar to how it was in the Haus. 

“Bits,” Jack says, exasperated. “You just cooked an entire Christmas dinner. By yourself. No, don’t say I helped, we all know a kindergartner could have helped just as much. Let me and Shitty do the dishes.”

Bitty sighs but relents, retreating to the living room. 

“You two are so good for each other it hurts,” Shitty says, shaking his head. “Honestly. Hosting Christmas dinner together. Bitty here for the holidays.”

“It’s great,” Jack says, barely catching a lovesick sigh before it escapes. “I’ve never… I don’t even know how to put it. But I’ve never. Any of this.”

“The great Jack Zimmermann, finally spilling deets,” Shitty says, elbowing him playfully where he’s drying dishes. “’I’ve never any of this’. Such detail. Such poetry.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jack gets out around a laugh. “Because you’re so generous with information about you and Lardo.”

“Look at us, all grown up and in secret, clandestine relationships. We’ve grown up so fast,” Shitty says, wiping away a fake tear. 

“Oh - that reminds me. I have something for you.” Jack wipes his soapy hands off and heads for the hall closet. 

“Hey! I thought -”

“It’s really small. Not a big thing.”

“This is coming from the person who bought his teammate an oven just because -”

“No, this is actually a small thing. It probably cost a dollar. Rounding up. And it can be for your birthday if you don’t want it to be a Christmas present.” Jack reenters the room with a tiny gift bag, which Shitty takes. 

“You’re ridiculous, Jack, I don’t know why - holy shit.” Shitty stops midsentence when he opens the gift. 

“Ah, I don’t know if you remember? But our last game -”

“I said that if we won I get a lifetime of Zimmermann hugs.” Shitty stares at the homemade, printed certificate. 

“Right, but we lost. But I know I haven’t been a great friend these past couple of months -” Shitty snorts. “- but you’re not any less important to me now. So. Yeah.”

“So you just gave me an infinite supply of hugs. In writing.” 

“We can get it notarized if you want.”

We can get it note - Good God, Zimmermann, how does Bitty put up with you?” Shitty says it in an exasperated tone, but his voice gets thick and he has to wipe his eyes a little. 

“You’ll have to ask him, because hell if I know.”

“I’m cashing in on one of these,” Shitty says, waving the certificate a little. “Right now.”

anonymous asked:

but c'amon bitty is a good looking guy, isnt jack a little bit jealous of other guys hitting on him? or ahem other hockey players???

Oh, boy howdy does Jack get jealous! 

Bitty is suddenly the most eligible gay man in all the land, and damn if Jack doesn’t want to slap a sticker on his boyfriend that says ‘Property of Jack Zimmermann’, but after awhile the feeling tempers a bit and ends up closer to envy. Jack wants to flirt with cute boys, too. Or just one cute boy. But after every ‘who’s dating Bittle now’ article, there’s a phone call that goes something like this:

Bitty: You know I love you more than anything in the whole world, right Sweetpea? You know that you’re the only man I’ll ever need?

Jack:

a friend of mine won a raffle at work

her and another boy at work

won tickets for the rugby tonight in the hospitality lounge

she’s just posted a post about how she’s just met met Princess Anne

it made me think of zimbits



  • Bitty won tickets to go to a falcs game in the nice box
  • totally random
  • and he’s DYING
  • because thats ALICIA ZIMMERMAN
  • and he’s with Lardo
  • who is being super chill and keeping him from puking
  • and for some reason, he gets into a heated argument over pie with some celebrity tv chef he dislikes over their insistence that it always has to be the bEST stuff
  • and he’s like
  • screw you, do you know how much it costs? to be good? and get good things? I live in a FRAT HOUSE you pompous ass and I bet I could bake circles around you with one hand tied behind my back AND a murder stop and shop run
  • and Bob is like.
  • this
  • this is the one
  • I want this one.
  • Alicia.
  • Please
  • and shes pepper potts
  • No
  • But Jack will love him, I know it!!
  • No
  • Please!!
  • No.
  • *Don’t even pull that elitist crap with me, I learned how to cook like generation before me at the KNEE OF MY MOTHER and I don’t need to go all the way to FRANCE to know that you don’t freeze the damn butter*
  • Alicia is like… well shit. Bobs got heart eyes, no one is watching the hockey and everyone misses Jack getting the winning goal because Lardo has started filming it
  • so jacks a lil pissed with bitty
  • bitty is soaring on righteous fury
  • Bob is trying to convince Lardo he needs a copy of this video
  • and Alicia is wondering if she can spin this into a cooking show for her new network
  • (she can. Bitty hosts a bargain bin / student budget cooking show that is a HUGE hit because he’s super passive agressive about EVERYTHING he uses)
  • *If, like MOST OF AMERICA you live in a place where hand picked olives from Tuscany are not on sale, then store bought is FINE*
  • 50 uses for hot sauce your housemates got while couponing without your guidance.
  • how to make a three course meal for your girlfriend when you can’t cook and you promised her before checking that the oven was even working CHRIS CHOW, using a toaster, a microwave and an inventive use of the spin setting on your washer.
  • when giant canadian hockey butts slander your FOUR TIME COUNTY FAIR WINNING MAPLE CRUSTED PIES and you have to PROVE THEM WRONG. for beginners!
  • *bright smile*
  • When Hockey Butt uses the last of the milk and you’re about to go live on air.
  • when HB admits that he’s not feeling so great and you need to make your mamma’s chicken soup but can’t afford chicken
  • when you are at your wits end because a cute HB is coming over for dinner and you had class all morning and didn’t have time to prep all the food - meet my sous chef Dex!
  • The meal that I served to HB’s parents! First meeting food for the soul - the budget will shock you!
  • and people are like
  • is this the same HB? who was a dick?
  • and now they are dating?! 
Auction AU Part 2


Here’s the first part  ! I recommend you read it before this part, or else it won’t make much sense.

Sorry this took like, ten million years. Thanks to everyone who messaged me and said they liked the first part, it always made my day <3 

————

    The relief only lasted so long once he realized that yes, no more old-leopard-print lady (thank god), but still there’s a date with someone. A stranger.

    Jack’s barely held decent conversations with his teammates, how would a date with a stranger work?

    It wouldn’t. No way.

   Feeling like he’d just survived a brutal game, Jack took a few seconds to gather himself. He wiped the condensation from his forehead (he really hoped no one had noticed), slowed his breathing, let his jaw unclench. Once his fingers became steady enough he fixed the cuffs of his uncomfortably hot suit.

   “Fuck it,” He shucked the jacket off entirely. It felt good until he lifted his arms- “Ugh.”

   Pit stains.

   For a moment he struggled with what to do: If I wear the jacket I’m uncomfortable and sweating more, but if I don’t people can see the sweat and thats embarrassing and-

   “Jack!” Someone from management tapped his shoulder, “This way, the kid is waiting on stage right.” She gave him a brief once-over, “Put on the jacket.”

    With a somewhat relieved nod, he slipped the jacket back on and wished for a calmer heart-beat.

     The wish didn’t come true, of course. It rarely did.

    They approached the stairs leading off the stage.

    This kid must like you. They bid on you. They spent money for a date-thing-whatever with you. Just smile. Act like a normal-

   “Hi!”

   -person.

   “Uh, hi.”

Keep reading

Shortly after the overdose, Bob decided to tell Jack the story of why he really got put in the Stanley Cup as a baby.  It was Bob’s way of thanking the cup.

“After I won my first cup,” he told Jack, “I realized I’d achieved my dream, and I had married this amazing woman, but something still felt like it was missing.  I wanted to be a father.”  He told Jack how he and Alicia had tried to have a baby, but it just wasn’t happening.  As the months dragged on with more of the same, they started to get worried.  

“And even when you were worrying you’d never truly be happy you managed to win the cup again, yeah?  That’s the moral of the story?” Jack snapped.  Bob shook his head, reached out to run a hand over Jack’s back, like he could smooth down his son’s frayed nerves.  

“Non, non, non, that would be a terrible moral.  Actually my stats were worse that year than when I was a rookie.  But my team was incredible, and we made it to the cup again.  And here’s where the story gets good, you see, because I’d heard all kinds of wild legends through the league about ‘cup magic’ and how sometimes it would grant wishes”

“Or turn you into a fucking penguin,” Jack scoffed.

“Well I was playing for the Canadiens at the time, so I suppose there wasn’t much risk involved, but there was a whole lot of desperate hope.So on my cup day, after everyone else left, I sat down and had a chat with it,” he gestures to the table they’re sitting at.  “Right at this kitchen table.”

“Please tell me that’s the only part of this story that happened at this table,” Jack groaned.  Bob laughed.

This story, yes.”

“Papaaaa,”  Jack picked up his bowl of cereal and pointedly continued eating without letting his food touch the table.

“Oh for God’s sake, Jack, this table has been cleaned many times since, put your food down for a bit, I’m trying to have a moment with you here.”

“Alright, alright, fine.”  Jack obediently set the bowl aside and faced his father.

“As I was saying…” Bob cleared his throat.  “I talked to the cup.  I told it I didn’t care if I ever won it again.  All I wanted was a son.  If it would give me that, I promised, I wouldn’t ask to win so much as a faceoff for the rest of my life.  And I promised that I would love my son - that I would love you - unconditionally, more than anything in the world.”

“And you won a fuckton more awards anyway.”

“But,” Bob countered, “I didn’t win the cup again until after you were born when I was with the Pens.  And so when your mother brought you onto the ice to see me, I wanted us to put you in the cup, but it wasn’t supposed to pass along some kind of hockey magic and ensure the Zimmermann dynasty or whatever the fuck ESPN likes to say, alright?  We did it as a thank you.  We wanted the cup to see what a beautiful baby we had, and to feel how incredibly loved you were.”  Bob ran a hand over Jack’s newly-cropped hair, feeling the strands against his palm, almost as soft as when he used to sit next to Bob in his high chair smashing banana all over the tray.  “I kept my promise too,”  Bob said.  “I love you.  Unconditionally.  More than anything in the world.  And your mother and I just want to help you be happy, whatever that looks like.”  He smiled warmly at his son, letting all the pride he usually kept a lid on to keep from embarrassing Jack bubble up to the surface.  Jack looked down at his hands.

“How can you not be disappointed?  Look at me.”  Jack’s shoulders hunched in, shrinking him down, and Bob pressed his hand between Jack’s shoulder blades, rubbing circles in the way that always used to put him right to sleep as a child.

“I will always be proud of you, hockey or no.  Because you know what?”  Jack chanced a glance up at his father’s face and was held by his earnest expression.  “Winning the Stanley Cup isn’t even in my top hundred favorite memories anymore.  All of my best memories are with you and your mother.”  Jack didn’t say anything in response, and Bob was learning when to give him space to process, so he stood up, bending back down to kiss his son’s forehead as he snagged the now-soggy bowl of raisin bran from in front of him.

It took a few days for Bob to get a real response from Jack, and in the meantime he just left everything to percolate.  And then one night, Bob just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  His knee wasn’t quite hurting, but it was on that edge where it just didn’t feel settled, and Alicia had been snoring, and at the back of his head he could feel some kind of humming, like he could feel the tense air in Jack’s room.  He’d gotten himself all worked up mulling that last one over until he had to get out of bed.  He stood in front of Jack’s bedroom door, looking at the light peeking out from below the doorjamb for minutes, listening to the sounds of floorboards creaking occasionally, pages rustling, a keyboard clacking.  After he’d gotten enough of the sounds of Jack just existing on the other side of the door to calm his racing heart, he went to the living room.  

He settled into the couch with a box of crackers and a nature documentary when he heard footsteps creaking on the stairs.  At first, he was expecting Alicia coming to call him back to bed, but the footfalls were too loud for her.  Bob tried not to look surprised when Jack rounded the corner, keeping his eyes carefully trained on Animal Planet.  He held up the crackers in greeting.

“Joining your old man for a midnight snack, eh?”

“Oh.  Um, sure.”  Jack padded over to the couch and made himself comfortable next to Bob, pulling down the afghan from the back of the sofa.  They stare at the TV in silence for a long while before Jack speaks up again, quietly.  “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“So…what exactly was better than winning the cup?”

Bad Bob’s favorite dad joke happened when he and Alicia were out shopping just after Jack started teething. A reporter cornered them just outside the grocery store and asked him,

“Bad Bob, do you think your son will go into hockey like you?”

Bob, being an exhausted parent of a 6 month old, looked down at Jack chewing on his 1991 Stanley Cup Final game winning hockey puck, looked back up at the reporter and said,

“Well, he certainly has a taste for it”