❝Roses have thorns, my dear, but so do you. ❞ In which Jan falls into an existential crisis, and Pete is there for her, if only in the form of words on her screen.

365 ways to say "I love you" * * * * * * * * I'm a shmuck, guys. I'm that loser who thinks love is what makes life worthwhile. But yeah, here's another story about cute nothings that are everythings really and I should just click save before I make you vomit rainbows

This is simply a collection of dialogues that I create (mostly to expand the fences I've naturally built around my writing skill set). Nothing more, nothing less -- unless your brain takes my words and twists and contorts them into something much more beautiful than they ever were on the screen. Some texts may be flowery, some may be concrete. Just as easily, some conversations will be playful, some may make you want to punch a wall, and some might just make you sad. I do apologize in advance, if that happens. Don't worry, I'll be writing various talks that are airy and infinite and joyous, even if I am, none of the above, a great deal of the time. I'm writing these all to be as real as the rabbit hole I fell down, long ago. They may or may not be real is what I'm trying to say; I'm not quite sure, to be honest. Or they might just be moments of delusion in my mind, or that rabbit hole, I was talking about previously. © Jake Sullivan, 2014

the blips and bleeps of writing. (a series of shorts)

One summer, five kids: a fragile dreamer, a moody pessimist, an aggressive feminist, a closet homosexual, and a modern-day aristocrat. © crewneck sept. 24, 2014 - adventure #120 nov. 30, 2014 - teen fiction #334

dear oliver: there's something i have to tell you. lilly. [ 11 | 30 | 14 - #146 Teen Fiction ] [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-fourteen ]

"Hey Mia?" "Yeah?" "Just making sure you're there." The prologue to Lobsters, showing how Mia and Polly met.

Rosie Alder-Pembrook isn’t planning on letting her ultra-feminist club get shut down due to the senior class council’s budget cutbacks (and to be honest, it’s kind of killing her senior year buzz). But when it seems that the only way to revive it is to strike a deal with the semi-sexist/mostly ignorant Class Council president, Peter Bevan, to help him fix what he broke with ex-girlfriend/real life Barbie doll, Ella Hall, she’s made to wonder if it’s quite worth selling her soul over. And so, alongside her best friend, (who she’s sure wasn’t always this hot) a group of angry teenage feminists, and the outlandishly willing drama department, Rosie embarks on a mission to reclaim her beloved club – at whatever the cost.

In which a Subway worker teaches her customer the real reason why people use condiments

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