she writes — you read.

days i spent with you x 3

a/n: I HAVE FEELS OKAY. FEELS~ !!!! i think these adds won’t be as lengthy as the prior full fics, most likely 5-8 pages at most, or even shorter, but it will be completed though! we’re on 3/30, so get ready for a baby and a wedding and stuff~


THREE | Kacie | Mid-July

“I just want you to punch Drake in the face for me,” My mom starts up on her anti-Drake tangent and I shake my head at her. “If I catch him the streets before you, I’ll do it my damned self.”

We’ve been sitting in the Doctor’s office, one of many trips the three of us will share together before I go to Chicago with her and he leaves to start on his slew of video shoots. I’m not sure how long it’s going to be like this, but at the moment, I accept the comfort that comes with it.

I’m conflicted and torn between too many emotions at the moment. I’m excited about having him here, but as long as we sit in this waiting room, anticipating to be called back, my hesitation about this ultrasound grows. I want to experience everything with him, but I know this time apart is needed for us to be able to come together again once it’s done, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get antsy about time speeding up for a variety of reasons.

“Kathy, please.” Chris laughs and gets her to do the same, and I sigh softly as I look at him.

I want this visit to be over quicker than anything, but to head out to Chicago while he goes back to California to start shooting video two of four just…Ugh. It’s only going to be six days without him and although I knew he wouldn’t miss this for the world, a part of me wishes that he got a jump start on things earlier.

But then, he probably wouldn’t have made it back here and – fuck. I need to clear my head. Continue reading


another part of me | days i spent with you drabbles

a/n: no, you’re not seeing things. i’ve finally gotten my muse back and i’m able to write more kacieverse! i decided to HEAVILY EDIT the entire verse to flow, starting with summer in new  york and ending all the way with days i spent with you — so i’m still debating if i want to post DISWY on here or not, but i most likely will.

ANOTHER PART OF ME (or APOM) is the latest set of background stories in the kacieverse. they will switch between kacie and chris accordingly. these are the late exclusive / graffiti era drabbles which should flow right into something about us to form the fic as a whole when i’m done w them. most likely, like always, there will be 20 drabbles posted throughout the hopefully simultaneous resumed posting of DISWY.

if you haven’t ventured into the kacieverse yet, i’m side-eyeing you bc other that that jordin fic and some unfinished chrianna wtf are you doing here? LOL. you can either be patient and wait for me to post the link to the edit (tumblr coming soon) or click on GUIDE TO THE KACIEVERSE and read accordingly.

okay i’ve rambled like shit and i don’t have a title header for this JUST YET, but until then… ENJOY!


Continue reading

CROOKED x 3 [1/2]

crookedname ________________________________

3 | no harm


“I fucking hate stitches.” Mecca proclaimed as we sat around the conference room and I absentmindedly tugged at the top I had on as if it was going to hide them or make them go away.

It had been about a week since we finally all settled in, and I was able to see again. With that being said, my attention immediately was all over the room. When it came to handling business though, I was still on edge and not in the mood to deal with anything considering the fact that our plans were changed and set in stone.

It left a lot of room for fuck ups, considering the fact that allowing Mecca to simply go along with us to Baltimore only gave her a glimpse of what was really going down. I had a lot of questions to ask her and we had a lot to cover whenever this meeting got started.

But for now, she was sitting here, trying to make small talk. I hated small talk. It always seemed like the other person was beating around the bush about something. Conversation was conversation though, and it was better than me not using my voice at all for a while.

“It’s less stressful than a gunshot wound.” I responded finally, and she nodded as if she knew what I was talking about. She kept looking at me like I was a stranger. To a fault, I guess almost ten years without seeing each other could change things.

“They’re definitely more of a focal point than that big ass bruise on your neck though. Or is that a hickey?” She stuck her hand out to touch it, and I immediately recoiled.

“Stop.” I uttered, like an annoyed parent.

Whatever moment that could have spawned from that just died, immediately. Mecca looked at me and sat back in her chair, and kept her eyes on me. I don’t know what got all of her attention, but I tried to keep my eyes focused on anything else but her.

We hadn’t had time to sit and talk or do anything because I spent most of my time holed up in the apartment, face down in the sheets and dead to the world. I was starting to feel bad that I still hadn’t warmed up to the fact that here she was, back in my life again.

Once upon a time, that was all I wanted.

I just wanted somebody, even just one of my siblings if that’s all I could get, to be back in close contact with me. I can’t tell you how many times we’d hit up spots and I’d bond with females who reminded me of them, or little kids who got stuck in the same predicament as we did. All I could do afterwards was steel my jaw and pray to God that things worked out for them once we set them up somewhere.

I hadn’t looked at her in so long… damn.

She looked too much like me and it made me annoyed. I got immediately aggravated at everything, although it was beyond my control.  It was really scary how much she mimicked me, and it wasn’t even purposely.

It was natural, as if we’d never had the nine year hiatus. I felt like I was looking at someone who would play the role of me, in my life story. She couldn’t develop her own sense of identity? She had to go for mine, and who did that help?

Nobody. Continue reading

August 9, 2013, 10:51 pm
Filed under: adds, CROOK'S WAY, CROOKED | Tags: , , , ,


2 | futile devices



Doing business with “reformed” criminals was interesting.

I mean, they weren’t A’s across the board type of people either, but it always came with a lesson to learn and I wasn’t sure that all of the lessons were really worth it in the first place. No matter how many times society expected them to turn their life around it was rare that it actually stuck through.

Sometimes, it took a couple of times for them to fall off before they realized they had no intentions to go back to their old life. Eventually, they make it work for them, and they learn their lessons and fight diligently not to make the same mistakes twice.

Most of the time, reformed criminals learned their lessons.

They become better people and really believe in the whole “I can change!” mantra that they’d been fed while serving their time. It sticks for a while, but then they’re wondering really, what the fuck is it all for? Someone’s still going to want you dead in the end anyway.

Take Aubrey, for example.

He is the sole reason why I’m still not taking my ass to Toronto, and why I’m unable to open my fucking right eye. I could blame him for a lot of the fucked up series of events that plague my life, and I’m not the only one. It affects Dreamville like a plague.

Aubrey Graham oversaw this network of dirty accounts, and was good at it. He fell into the category of faux affably evil. He appears polite and understanding in public, but underneath that image is a thief whose trust is hard to keep. Aubrey is extremely cunning and manipulative, and embodies several fucked up personality flaws.

It makes for a great business partner, but I don’t see how anyone can trust him – Murray has him in some sort of headlock though, so it works out for us. Still, after all the shit we’d been through as courtesy of Aubrey, it is mindboggling how he still operates business daily. Anything for the money, I guess. It helps and it hurts.

He keeps us busy, therefore we’re thankful, but… we’ve reached our limits with this mission.

It’s time to cut the rope after this. Continue reading

songs for lovers x 1

a/n, straight, simple, and to the point: this is au!chrianna, alternate universe for those who don’t know what AU stands for. this is ultimately an idea i can’t shake from my thoughts and for the time being, so I won’t limit the chapter count because I know 9/10 i’ll get out of control. i haven’t seen this particular role taken for these two as characters at all, but by all means, i hope you guys enjoy this turn it’ll take.

it’ll be worth it, i promise.


1 | ain’t no mountain high enough

“C’mon, you can’t honestly stand there and tell me this doesn’t have you utterly fucking terrified.” Her green eyes glare at him, and for a minute, a bit of fear rips through him, but it gets swallowed down by his excitement.

Maybe he should be scared. He’s only seventeen, with his whole life ahead of him.

He’s seventeen years old, and the girl next to him, only eighteen for the last four hours, is just as nervous as he is about the pending events that could change their lives forever. It hasn’t taken long, but their time together as a couple, a duo, a true team in all aspects of the word, has finally reached a point to where it’s time to put up or shut up.

If there’s anything he’s mastered since bumping into her on the first day of fifth grade at PS 241, it’s handling her freak outs. This particular worry however, seems to be a little more important than just knocking her books out of her hand and spilling juice on her new white penny loafers. Continue reading

TAPE YOU x 21 | Wait Your Turn
February 14, 2013, 7:08 pm
Filed under: adds, au, chrihanna, tape you


21 | Wait Your Turn

“You have to concentrate,” Robyn coached Wendy through the phone as she stirred her breakfast cereal, and turned back to resting against her desk.

“I’ll come out in a few. Everything will be fine. I’m back for a bit, Wendy.”

She had been in the office for fifteen minutes; had been the one to open the doors at five AM sharp, and made sure she got absolute run downs on every one of the patients from the school bus crash.

There were twenty-eight files to go through; there were twelve girls and twelve boys exactly in terms of students, and three women ranging from twenty-four to forty-three, and one male, the bus driver, who was sixty five.

The students were divided into four groups, depending on the severity of the impact they had sustained from the crash. The group of students sitting on the left side of the bus suffered the most damage, a lot of lacerations and stitch-work had to be done before the rehab could begin.

They had spent two hours pinned to the students on the right, with the entire weight of the bus and the truck combined flattening them. It was going to take a lot rehab to get pinched nerves and damaged muscles to work again, but it could be accomplished within two months if everyone worked on schedule.

The three adults – all placed strategically through the bus ­ – had suffered a variety of damages.

The woman in the front, as well as the bus driver had been tossed through the front window after the impact, and tossed down the stretch of highway they were traveling down, breaking hips and arms.

The woman in the middle was crushed down next to a two-hundred and fifty pound football player, and the woman in the very back had her legs trapped partially underneath the seat in front of her, as well as her arm by the time she was freed.

After the files were spread over her desk and she started to go through them to arrange placement and treatment schedules by groups, her oatmeal had gone ignored and when she looked up after a few tight raps on the door, it was nearing eight thirty AM.

Chris had promised to call after eight-forty five, before the meeting, so he could skype her into it ­– or give her the run down when he decided to bring her lunch. Her lunch break was something she was really looking forward to, and hoped that she could find a stopping point in order to actually break for.

The knocking on the door continued, and Robyn narrowed her gaze before uttering, “Come in.” Continue reading

tape you x 20 | A NIGHT OFF


20 | A Night Off

“You’re going to be bored down there, baby.” Chris laughed, watching Robyn shrug softly as she turned off the multi-screen view of the latest episode of the reality TV show she had gotten lost in.

She stretched out on the couch in the den and shook her head. She wasn’t interested in talking business with Wendy, so going into the studio sounded very interesting at the moment.

He was trying to reroute her though, but this was a battle she didn’t want to lose at all.

After they had finally gotten out of her bedroom and ate real food – she made cold chicken salad and he ate and learned about the accolades that fanned her walls – he had convinced her to come here so they could start brainstorming preparations for Rated R with the studio’s production team.

That lasted all of two hours before she returned back upstairs with a full overhaul and excitement about the plans, which would go into production as soon as Spring Fever #5 reached finalization.

She had ideas, but with the project being placed in her own hands, her creativity seemed to be all over. She didn’t hesitate to let them know this was going to be short term for her, so everything she wanted to do would be done wanting more, just in case she wanted to do more a little later in life. Continue reading