crash&&burn;;

The end

2009-05-30T17:09:39Z

I think I'm done writing.
I love writing, but I can't finish what I started (TDF and WIWOB).
Not that I don't love those stories.
I'm just way discouraged and busy/stressed with the rest of my life.

I feel that only a few people are actually interested in what I write, there are people out there much better than me, etc. Also several personal reasons that I don't want to write anymore, but I'd rather not list them.

I'm sorry to disappoint the tiny crowd of people who read this crap, but I just don't have time or patience or inspiration to finish.

Things change. Things fall apart.

Sam

thrashglam @ 2008-09-22T20:03:00

2008-09-23T02:03:20Z

View Poll: What's your favorite one-shot?

AHAHHAHAHAHA gimme a cookie.

2008-08-27T05:34:51Z

I SO quit.

*bang*

Potential friends/current friends READ:

2008-04-29T17:03:49Z

If you don't already know, my journal is friends locked. Add if you wanna read.

And as for my current friends...

I'm gonna beta lock all of my entries if you don't start commenting.

Ali is the only person that matters anyway.

But I'd still like more feedback!

P.S. Ali, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you. xD

xoxo.

Day Has Come... on a hiatus.

2008-04-20T01:08:51Z

Things in my life haven't worked out so well recently... and Day Has Come is very depressing for me to write. I just... get in this funk that pretty much makes me look like a zombie when I'm typing it up. So it's on hiatus. But not for long, I promise!

In the meantime, I'm writing a slightly more happier fic. I just can't contain these ideas anymore. I need them OUTTA HURRR. <3

P.S. I love you Ali :D

Take away my breath and you've stolen my dreams.

2008-04-17T01:51:11Z

Just a short story about my inner emotion. No pairings. No plot. No rating.

Dedicated to my fake wife, Ali.

<3.

Nerves attack every part of her body. She laughs, she cries, she wrings her hands together, trying to cleanse them of the sweaty state that overcame them within the last five minutes.

Close your eyes. Inhale. Don't forget how to breathe. This is in your soul, it's what you're all about, it's who you are. It's why you pull yourself out of bed in the morning. It's why you bleed. It's the reason you ache so terribly for every second of every day. You will prove to it that you can overcome this, you can conquer it; you're stronger than the usual person. You're not like everyone else. You can do this, you can do this...

Murmurs everywhere. Praises and best wishes and light tugs on her arm. Open your eyes. This is your one chance to prove to everyone who you are and what lives within you. Your one chance to unleash it upon the unsuspecting bystanders in this innocent charade... Breathe. Don't forget how to breathe.

Shoved out onto a platform of echoing wood. Hot lights bare down on your shoulders and break through your skin. It hurts, it hurts more than anything. But it's the one thing you know you have to do. It'll be over soon... so sterile, so foreign.

She takes the instrument in her hand, preparing for the incision. Execute it right, or it's all for naught... one chance, one chance. Make it count. Do it right the first time. Don't let them see you falter. You can't falter. Lives are at stake.

The first incision emits a beautiful symphony of colors, spinning in every direction, dancing around her head like puppets. They're her soldiers, her enemies, the creatures that live in her blood and tear her apart.

The operation runs smoothly; not a single cut out of place. Perfection in its finest form. The one moment that was hers for the taking, for them to deem her worthy was an instant success.

Screaming. Cheering. Standing ovation at the flawless actions...

The melody saved them all. It keeps me alive. I rise at the brilliant sounds sent directly to me. They hit me in the soul, where the soldiers leave no mercy at bay for me. Smiling, spinning, crashing down. I can no longer perform what keeps me alive, what keeps my heart in pain, what forces me to breathe constantly...

For I've woken up.

Day Has Come: Part One

2008-04-11T23:58:04Z

Title: Day Has Come
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Hancest/slash
Pairing: Figure it out? <3
POV: Zac (changes between Zac and Taylor from chapter to chapter)
Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't know em!
Summary: Neither of us knew what to expect. How could we possibly know?

AN: The first part was just... a prologue, I suppose! I really don't know where I'm going with this story. Maybe I'll never finish it, maybe someone can help me with ideas, but mainly I just want your guts to flip inside out from a well-written *gasp* ZAYLOR! Yes, my friends; 'tis a Zaylor. Well that's all for the A-N right now.

Chapter One: Kiss Me Deadly

Zac

I'm sitting on a street corner, puffing on a Newport. I didn't generally like to smoke but on occasion when the tensions rose (both sexual and emotional at that moment in time), the smoke helped to clear my mind, although cloud the air. Reverse psychology possibly?

I thought about all that had happened in the past few days and it got to the point where it was just too much for me to bear. I'd never had back problems up until that night, that conversation of our fate... and then I started feeling like someone dropped a box of concrete bricks onto my shoulders. I never thought a person could feel physical pain over something emotionally painful. Just the fact that I was aching made the situation worse, because Taylor blamed it on himself.

"Why in the world do you make it all about you, Tay? It's definitely not your fault that my back is fucked now. I bet you just... slammed me a little too hard into the wall the other night or something." I tried joking with him, but the grim look on his face remained. I cleared my throat.

"Because I'm the one causing all of this stress, Zac."

"Yeah, Tay; by being so incredibly sexy, you forced me to kiss you in the back of the bus."

He blushed. "That's not what I meant. I meant because we wouldn't have had that conversation if I hadn't been such a girl by bringing it up..."

"Tay..." I said softly yet firmly so as to make myself clear. "That conversation would have happened whether you sparked it or not. It was inevitable."

A look of surprise came over him. "You're so smart for a teenager. I swear." He smiled, pecked me quickly while no one was watching, and whispered hot on my ear, "C'mon. Let's go back to the room so you can show me just how smart you really are."

Once he led me to our room in the hotel (we'd wanted to get away for a while), we were interrupted very rudely by room service (aren't they supposed to knock!?). So I fell off of him onto the floor, running straight out of the room and left the hotel, which is how I ended up here: sitting on a street corner with a cancer stick hanging between my lips and a rather painfully stiff feeling, if you catch my drift.

While I sat there, I tried to rub my back and smoke at the same time. It didn't work. I felt a kink rise in my neck and I pulled my arm away sharply. This was more than just normal back pains. I'd been drumming since I was five; so why now?

I shook it from my mind as I thought of Taylor, staring at me with those insane blue eyes of his. Sometimes I wondered if God molded his eyes by hand instead of just taking them from the conveyor belt of human anatomy. Then I thought of the shocked look on his face as the maid waltzed in, and how red he turned when I crawled off of his naked body. I smirked to myself. How he ended up naked so quickly and how I managed to keep my clothes on is still a mystery to me. Needless to say he shrieked his head off when that lady came in; thankfully she was in the living room and we were in the bedroom so he shouldn't have been as red as he was. Still, there he was, a beet-red face and a flawless tan body. Priceless, shy Taylor. My love. What was next for us?

I tried to blow rings with the smoke I exhaled, but I wasn't that skilled of a smoker. I hoped I never would be.

Day Has Come: Prologue

2008-04-11T23:55:24Z

Title: Day Has Come (I didn't INTEND for it to be a Hanson title. It just made sense when I started thinking of the story!)
Rating: I'll do it by chapter, and for this mini-chapter, it's PG-13 I s'pose
Genre: Hancest/slash
Pairing: Figure it out? <3
POV: Zac (changes between Zac and Taylor from chapter to chapter)
Setting: Nowhere in particular, honestly... they could be in New York, in Tulsa, in L.A., in Florida, in Denver (I freakin' wish.) If they need to go somewhere important, you'll know. :] From now on will be known as MON, In the year 2004.
Disclaimer: Don't own em, don't know em!
Summary: Neither of us knew what to expect. How could we possibly know?

No wives, makes it easier (plus I actually like their wives way too much to have to incorporate them into a dirty hancestfic. xP)

Warning: This fic is of the brother-on-brother type. If you're not into slash, let alone incest, walk away now. I only write about it to fill my insane fantasies and the fantasies of others. Also, I seriously think incest can be romantic. I mean, what if God put people together as siblings only because they'd never find each other any other way? Just somethin' to think about.

Author's Note: Let me know what you think =] I had so many ideas that I just had to start writing. I've read so much that I needed to write some myself. There was no more left to read. I had to do something to occupy myself!! Enjoy ~<3

Prologue

Zac

He looked up at me with those intense blue eyes. "What do we do now?"

I shrugged. Had I known what to do after all this, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But no; I had no idea, so I just picked at the dry skin between my callused fingers because I'm a nervous twit like that. "Flee the country?" was my half-serious answer.

A look of frustration washed over his face as he closed his eyes at my answer. His forehead wrinkled in thought, then relaxed. "That's not realistic. And we'd be followed wherever we went. We can't escape it." A sigh escaped his mouth.

Oh, how much I longed to take this pain away from him by covering it with my own... his beautiful mouth that produced such perfect harmony, perfection even though it was far from an angel's voice. I woke up to his singing one morning, tears attacking my eyelids, thinking: How can he be so perfect in every way?

That's what I was thinking about when he finally opened his eyes and said, "Well?"

I threw my hands up in the air. "I have no idea! Do you really expect me to fix this just because I started it? I had no idea what I was getting into. All I know," I said, cupping his trembling face within my hands. "...is that I love you. And we will figure it out... we just... need some time to work on it."

Every bit about him was nervous and scared; he was pulling his lips between his teeth, wringing his hands together, shifting from leg to leg on the edge of the bed with those damned blue eyes shifting around the room, not even looking at me as I cupped his face, the covers wrapped loosely around his body. God, he looked so... delicious, dare I say? Not the time to be thinking about that, though...

There was nothing I could do to stop that anxiety, and I was truly scared myself. How could I fix him if I couldn't even fix myself?

I acted on impulse and quickly brought our lips together. "It will be okay. I promise." I breathed on his lips, my eyes still partially shut. He nodded, even though I knew my words did nothing to relieve his stress. He would continue to worry, and nothing that I said or did would stop that. I just had to accept that; he'd always been on edge. But as long as he loved me, we'd be okay... I hoped silently to myself. Neither of us knew what to expect. How could we possibly know?

We were brothers.