all your jakedirk are belong to me

TITLE: Good Morning

RATING: K

PAIRING(S) IF ANY: implied Jake/Dirk

—

It was very well a hassle for me to travel all the way to texas you know; ive never really enjoyed riding on planes theyre incredibly stressful. Every time the plane so much as shuddered it felt as if my heart was bouncing out of my chest!

I do think it was worth the trip and it was after all to visit you.

Are- are you going to update Trade Mistakes?

Anonymous

maybe

lmfao ay bay bay

striderprince

TITLE: Trade Mistakes - Chapter 3

RATING: T

PAIRING(S): Jake/Dirk

SUMMARY: It’s been a year since Strider has confessed to you, and you’re just another year too slow on the uptake.

:

Your name is Jake English and you wish you hadn’t heard a thing.

“Well, yeah, I do,” is all Strider manages to say, giving you a weird look after you’d blurted out a rather loud, “What?”

You try to play it off casually, laughing a bit too heartily and giving Strider a playful shove for good measure, which sure as hell looks unnatural to him but he lets it slide for now, though you certainly don’t miss the way his brows crease in mild suspicion.

You hold a staring contest with the window for the next fifteen minutes.

TITLE: Trade Mistakes - Chapter 2

RATING: T

PAIRING(S): Jake/Dirk

SUMMARY: It’s been a year since Strider has confessed to you, and you’re just another year too slow on the uptake.

:

Your name is Jake English and you might as well change it to Mr. Devilfucking Deep-fried.

See, your island is a few things. It’s tropical, warm, and probably most annoyingly, incredibly humid. The humidity of your island and you sort of have a love-hate relationship. One that you’ve only just discovered the moment you stepped into the Texan heat because God help you, you really would prefer the climate back home more than this.

TITLE: Trade Mistakes - Chapter 1

RATING: T

PAIRING(S): Jake/Dirk

SUMMARY: It’s been a year since Strider has confessed to you, and you’re just another year too slow on the uptake.

:

Your name is Jake English and you’ve made a mistake.

It’s worse than every other choice you’ve ever made in your life, to be fairly honest. Even that time when you decided to take a shortcut through the woods and ended up nearly dying in the presence of a very angry spider-monster. Or when you’d decided to test out this new berry for poision (that was really stupid) because you didn’t know for sure. And even when you’d refused your friends’ invitations to come over to the states because no, I can’t possibly leave this island unguarded now can I?

Granted, those aren’t your only mistakes. Humans are humans, after all, even crazy boys who had been raised on an island in the middle of the ocean.

But you really wish you hadn’t made this one.

Hello hummingbird ┐(≖౪ ≖ ┐)

crabby-apple

hello person i dont know

yyeeeesssssSSSSSSSSS (◉ ౪ ◉. )

crabby-apple

HOW TO RITE REAL GOOD, otherwise known as “an octopus attempts to blabber about things she thinks a lot of people leave out when talking about writing”

clumsyoctopus:

Alright, let me preface this bysaying I am NOT a professional writer by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not perfect, I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of people would probably find issue or dislike my writing and that’s fine! I just think I’ve been writing and reading long enough to compile a few tips that’s based on my personal experiences. I’ve looked up a lot of writing “tutorials” online and they’ve generally been kinda shitty and unhelpful and spew the same shit over and over.

I’m gonna presume you know about the importance of spelling/grammar because c’mon seriously.

So let us begin with this disaster.

Read More

TITLE: Four Days (part 1)

RATING: PG-13 (just for language, I guess)

PAIRING(s) IF ANY: Jake/Dirk

AUTHOR’S NOTE: What if Jake got so mad at Strider that he actually refused to talk to him? Coupled with Strider’s natural stubborness, this situation can’t possibly end up well.

-

It has been four days, nine hours, fifty-five minutes, thirty-four seconds, and counting.

No, you aren’t usually this… obsessive over time-keeping (that’s more of your brother’s thing, and you’ve always thought he was a bit, scientifically speaking, fucked up). But the hours, minutes, and seconds all slip by painfully slowly, taking a lazy stroll by the beach and maybe making a stop at the nearest park and, oh, look, there’s an ice cream shop just past the ninth tick—

God fucking dammit.

You let out a low grunt when you nearly drop the little piece of machinery you’d been tinkering on since The Argument. (With capitalization, because all important things—good or bad—are capitalized.) Various mechanical parts are spread out over your workbench, nothing quite fitting together or forming anything, really. It’s not a far cry from your mental state, though; you’re completely scatterbrained and you, for the most part, end up going back to the starting point: Jake.

…Ahhh, fuck, you did it again.