whence-ever inspiration strikes, jealous!Jack is my favorite trope in 1386 fic and I feel you'd hit it absolutely out of the park. absolutely no pressure or expectations or anything at all, pls ignore if you want.

the glimpses we get of it in the "bewitched" when Jack's trying to figure out who Nico likes and your little endnote in the "april prompt collection" god so so so juicy!

on god please come back and tell me more of your thoughts on the jealous!Jack tropes!! 👀 I would simply like to hear it!!!

I can only imagine there's a certain kind of hunger all hockey players with their eyes on the silver prize have on teams that do survive the season and make it to a playoff run. And I'm channelling a lot of that into my fic version of jealous Jack LOL

I was surprised by the love that little endnote received! so here's a little snippet from the standalone wip so far 😇

“Are these all for Nico?” he demands, scrunching up handfuls of paper like they’re some kind of damning evidence. The guys all exchange looks. Jonas is the only one who speaks, giving Jack an exasperated look. “Yeah, because he was a pretty convincing actor last night and really played it up. You were watching the live feed, weren’t you?” “Of course I was, but I didn’t—there wasn’t—I didn’t see all this!” He waves the beer label at them, where an undeniably male scrawl announced yet another phone number, but it’s nearly incomprehensible. What a fucking idiot, to get the opportunity to give his contact info to Nico and fumble it with bad handwriting. These people don’t deserve him. “You get people flirting with you and dropping you their numbers every time we go out for drinks.” “I’m not working when we’re out. Plus, I don’t entertain any of that!” “Well, it’s not like these people knew we were working either,” Jonas says. “That’s the whole point of a stealth mission.” “Chill, Jack,” Timo says, staring at him like he’s grown an extra head. “People just handed these off to us when they saw we were with Neeks. We had to pretend like we were actually gonna give them to him.” An irrational lightning bolt of fear strikes Jack’s chest. “You didn’t, did you?” he asks. “No, obviously not—” Jack scoops up all of the numbers and stuffs them into the pockets of his sweater, scowling when he spies a fucking lipstick stain on one of them. don’t be a stranger, babe. 856-556-788 Cherri xoxo That one gets shredded and goes straight into the bin. “Oookay,” Jonas says.