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hey! heres the next part of my 30k hit celebration :) below this readmore are three snippets, as well as some directors commentary about where the story wouldve ended up, if I had finished it. enjoy!!
1. from 2020, titled "smoking buddies",
And Bev tasted like strawberry right now, from her lip gloss and the punnett of fresh berries she’d bought for them to share.
“I know,” Bev says. “Alright, big boy, one more and then I have to pick your outfit out. I know all you’re planning on wearing is this shirt.”
“The plan was no clothes,” Richie says, and Bev laughs into the kiss. Richie ends up laughing too, their teeth clacking together uncomfortably, and it makes them laugh harder. “Yeah, that’s my master plan. Strip down, seduce-”
“Richie,” Eddie says, from the doorway. Richie reflexibly pushes Bev away.
my bevchie platonic kissing fic! from the notes, apparently this was supposed to finish with a bill/ben/bev trio + reddie, but all I have in the document is three or four bevchie making out scenes. good for them!
2. from 2023, labeled "stepping stones 2"
When he was younger, he loved tightrope walking. It was so dangerous, but that was the best part. His mother never approved of it. She was borderline okay with the contortion, because it didn’t involve heights or running or animals. But not tightrope walking, not silks, not hand balancing. If she was here, she’d have a heart attack.
The rope dips suddenly, like there’s new weight standing on it. Eddie’s head snaps to the side.
There he is. Richie. Standing on the rope with a big dopey grin on his face. His hair has grown longer, and it’s unbrushed, and he’s still in comfy airport clothes. He walks over- the rope is shaky, both of their partnering skills rusty- but he makes it to Eddie, sitting down as well.
“Hey, sweetheart,” He says.
it's truly impressive how I shove long haired richie into every fic I've ever written. but yes, I did attempt to write a stepping stones sequel! it actually started in 2022, but the last addition was in 2023. I have NO notes about how this would've gone- I think I was just writing some cute little circus moments between the losers. there was also, perhaps, something suspiciously shaped like a ring-box in someone's pocket 👀
3. from 2024, titled "wreckords"
"Richie fuckin’ Wreckords, baby!” Is how the video starts, Richie crowing into the microphone his lead singer was holding near him- he’d just introduced the drummer, Richie Tozier, everyone!- before he begins his solo. Head beating in time with the beats he was stomping into the kick-drum, hair loosening from the ponytail it was being kept in. One arm stays steady, the other moves around as he continues, the muscles in his biceps flexing. The solo only lasts twenty or so delicious seconds, before the rest of the band begins playing once again. Eddie’s loop sends it straight back to the start. Richie fuckin’ Wreckords, baby!
Eddie’s going to single-handedly make this part of the video the most played. It’s on the official Wreckords youtube channel, filmed at their latest Californian show that Eddie, unfortunately, could not attend. He had an exam that seemed less and less important the more he looped the video. He missed seeing this live. Hearing this live.
The video loops again. At the word baby, Eddie gives in to the heat curling in stomach, sneaking a hand under his shorts, rubbing at himself through his underwear.
hi drummer richie *twirls hair*
anyway this was inspired by a roleplay I did a while ago with a friend- sadly I don't think it diverged enough to justify continuing to write it. it was supposed to be a silly little social media au, and I think eddie was going to write one or two x readers abt hot drummer richie. oops. I also made richie a little too cool.... sorry to my pathetic richie enjoyers!
#nothing from 2021 or 2022 bc i didnt like any of them </3 also i just didnt write a lot then#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#it 2017#it 2019#beverly marsh#i need a writing tag#schnippets#i think thats how i spell that. ill check later#nsft#probably. eddies pretty clearly jerkin it
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month 0.
Smaller than a grain of salt.
It started on top of Neji’s raggedy, old, summer camp sleeping bag. All heat and mouths trailing wet kisses down necks, across collarbones, on hips; two pairs of briefs hitting the floor, a raspy, whispered yes, then a slick slide. He still doesn’t know exactly how they got there or when—must have been sometime after doing lines in Naru’s lap in the backyard, encouraging the other boy turn into his slutty alter-ego, and watching him give the new kid in town a lap dance so thorough that he thought he saw one of the town’s resident bottle-blondes shove a twenty or two in the front pocket of those tight-ass shorts Naru loves to wear.
Seventeen days later, his nipples are sore and he’s nauseous when it hits him. They didn’t use a condom. He has no idea when his last cycle was beforehand.
So, what does he do? He makes an emergency run to Konoha. Naru will know what to do.
Naru, does in fact know exactly what to do and say to soothe his frazzled nerves. He doesn’t have a problem slapping the two garish, pink boxes that will tell him if his life is over—one as a pre-test, and the other final—on the counter along with the money, giving the cashier the finger, and rolling his eyes at her as she judges him.
Meanwhile, Gaara’s just trying to ignore the eyes burning twin, bug eyed holes into the back of his head. It’s not working so well. But he’s always been a master of the art of diversion.
“Fuck’s her problem?” He says to Naru once they exit the store.
“Hell if I know,” Naru says, shrugging his shoulder, “her mama can’t stand me, and I guess the apple don’t fall far from the goddamn tree.”
He lets out snort a snort and replies, “That’s so sad. You’re a fuckin’ gem, Naruto Uzumaki.”
Naru gives him his signature million-watt grin, “Ditto, Gaara No-Last-Name.”
It never fails to amuse him how Naru has heard his last name plenty times and still hasn’t figured out that it’s his.
When they get to the car, Gaara opens his mouth and asks, “Wanna go see Kiba for a lil’ bit before I get outta here?”
Naru tilts his head to the side, hand frozen on the door handle, “I thought you came to spend time with me?”
Gaara rubs his neck as he gets into the driver’s seat, “Don’t get me wrong, I did.” He says, tone apologetic, “But I gotta be back before six-thirty ‘cause my mama gotta be somewhere before seven and her car’s in the shop.”
Naru nods and ducks into the passenger’s seat, shutting the door with a quick slam, “Let’s do it.”
“Plus, I gotta go rescue Kankuro, Kiba’s mama look like she eats lil’ punk kids for breakfast.”
Naru laughs, something that never fails to cheer Gaara up. “She ain’t gonna eat him,” Naru says, “that’s Kuromaru’s job.”
Gaara cranks the engine and grins at Naru, “Like hellI’m finna miss that. So, where am I headed?”
“When you get to the end of the lot, make a right, keep straight, and it’s two blocks over. It’s the place with big house, a big sign, and all the dog toys in the yard. Sign says, “Inuzuka Kennels” on it.”
“You got it, boss. Kankuro drove in, and I was sleep most of the way, so I don’t know where the hell I’m goin’.”
***
The car ride is short, maybe five minutes with the midday traffic but Naru fills the car with loud music and a slew of questions. Gaara tunes most of them out with generic answers, because Naru asks him stuff all the time and won’t remember it twenty minutes later. But the boy asks one that cuts through to him.
“You gonna be okay?” He says with a look so soft and sincere it almost makes Gaara want to cry and hurl up the egg salad sandwich he ate before he got here.
Gaara decides to answer him honestly—not that he ever really lies to Naru, “Don’t know.” He says, “Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Naru nods and leaves it at that as he points out where to turn into the driveway.
And if the knot in the pit of Gaara’s stomach somehow loosens then tightens back up, well that’s his own business.
***
Hellcat practically barrels Naru over the second he says his hellos to everyone in the house and waves Gaara inside. Naru hugs his boyfriend back like he hasn’t seen him in years, when really, it’s only been a day or two. Gaara rolls his eyes, He hopes he never gets that lovesick.
Kiba’s mom is a delight, though. She pulls him into a gentle hug when she walks into the kitchen to greet them properly, then offers him a hielito from the refrigerator freezer. As he sits at the small, kitchen table, eyeing the kitschy decorations on the wall and focusing his attention on the can of Money House Blessing air freshener, he almost forgets about the black grocery bag with those two pink boxes inside on the car seat. Almost.
***
“So what’s in the bag, baby bro?” Kankuro asks once they’re on the freeway, leaving humid and hazy Konoha behind and heading into the perpetual dust storm that covers Suna.
See, Gaara might never lie to Naru, but he doesn’t mind lying to his older brother at all. “Remembered I was outta pads. Figured I should grab some before mommy leaves.”
Kankuro sniffs, but doesn’t make a face like he does when Temari mentions needing personals. “I would’ve taken you to get some before we got home.” He says, squinting at the road. “I don’t mind.”
Gaara sucks his teeth, “And have to sit there and watch you suck the life force out of your boyfriend? I’d rather watch paint dry.”
“Jesus, you wound me.” Is the last thing Kankuro says for the rest of the ride, too busy focusing on the road. He even has the radio turned all the way down so he can see better. Gaara snorts, maybe he should mention that Kankuro needs glasses to his mom.
Their house is less than five minutes away from the freeway, tucked into one of those fancy, wannabe gated communities where only half of the houses are built because the construction workers can’t work when the dust storms kick up too badly. Which means they just take the whole summer off, lazy bastards.
Kankuro pulls into the driveway and Gaara grips the plastic bag so hard it might rip. It’s not like his parents can see through it, and he can stash it under his bed until he’s ready for his life to be over…So why is he so nervous?
“How was your trip out, honey?” his mother asks the second they walk in the door and past the living room.
“Good.” He and Kankuro answer in unison, Kankuro heads into the living room and Gaara shoots up the stairs before she can ask anything else.
Two lines. Four, if you count both tests glaring back at him from the bathroom sink.
He’s fucking pregnant.
Nami wraps him up in a hug and he feels himself getting light headed. Fucking pregnant, he thinks, whose gonna take me seriously now?
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schnippets
#fnaf#dca fandom#art#time still stands tag#fnaf dca#scribbits art#fnaf moon x y/n#fnaf moon#michael afton#fnaf moon x reader
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schnippet
@wanderingdonut @sweetpeasandlilies @heartofspells thank you so much for tagging me in the wip ask game !! I love you all and sorry for taking so long! it's just that nothing's really changed since the last time & I've not been writing anything other than green haze recently sooo :"D
that said I'll share a tiny snippet from green haze because. they are making me violently unwell. for context, this is (kind of) a first kiss after Sirius loses his memory :)
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“It’s… complicated.” Remus says with a pained expression.
“Won’t you explain? Remus, will you—” his voice comes out a low whine. “Please, I need to know—”
Remus still doesn’t speak, though he looks at Sirius as though begging him to understand. He shuffles forward, a hand held out, mid-air and hesitant, gesturing at a past about which he dares not speak. And then— Sirius gets it. There must be something in the droop of his brows, the angle of his wrist, the way his tongue flicked out to lick his lips—
They knew each other in London. They knew each other in London.
They’d been lovers then.
Remus holds his gaze as Sirius’ eyes widen, before it flickers down to Sirius’ lips. Only for a fraction of a moment, but long enough for certainty to bloom in Sirius’ chest.
They move towards each other, with wordless accord. It’s a faltering step, a stumble, Sirius watches Remus’ expression shatter in slow motion, before they meet in the middle and their lips touch. A kiss. Soft like caress. Insistent like a raindrop.
Remus’s hands are cupping his shoulders, his back, tentative and reverent. He’s barely pressing but Sirius can feel his fingerprints in the depth of his spine. What is it about the way Remus holds him, why does he seem so terrified?
It only makes Sirius pull him in closer. His one palm settles over Remus’ heart, the other curving at the back of Remus’ neck, gripping just hard enough to push himself in, pressing the kiss just slightly deeper, grazing Remus’ bottom lip with his teeth just so. The gasp Remus lets out then is shaky. A single drop of a tear rolls down Remus’ cheek and melts into the corner of their lips, which startles Sirius. He leans back, “Remus, what’s—”
“Nothing,” Remus hurries to say, firmly, breathing out, “Nothing, Sirius.”
But there’s a hush in his eyes, like he’s seeing something Sirius can’t see. Something that breaks him, and would break Sirius, too, if he knew. And that’s what he means by ‘nothing’.
It irks him.
It irks him that he can’t remember. It irks him that for all this time Remus has spent by his side he insisted on acting the stranger. He wants to grab Remus and interrogate, to demand an explanation for why he’s never thought of telling Sirius, why he must wait for Sirius to figure it out himself, why he continues to doubt who they’d been to each other. He wants to take that weariness in Remus’ expression and kiss it right out of him.
“Alright.” Sirius breathes, and fiercely dives back in.
#green haze#wip#memory loss?? kris I thought this was a time travel thing#yeahhhh about that#it is so many things. I'm still in denial about the depth of the. hole I've dug myself#wolfstar
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poll fic schnippet:
🦙🦙🦙…
“You’re a lot more spritely out here than you were cooped up in that cell.” XD stated. Dream gasped as the hands around his waist suddenly repositioned themselves, latching onto his sides and squeezing rapidly into the skin there.
“NoHO!!” He yelped, twisting and turning amongst his now ticklish, cloak prison. He hadn’t anticipated the playful attack in the slightest, and the realization of his predicament came in quick.
🦙🦙🦙…
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will we ever see a schnippet where Crane lets WG take the reigns a little and be on top and more in control 👀😈😈😈 *maybe even in her apartment*
Maybe in one of those non-canon side drabbles that i am fond of 😉 but only if u ask nicely 💋 xx
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just a lil schnippet between illos. primal arti. >:)
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last line challenge
thank you @haztobegood for tagging me!!!! I've written heaps lately and am so excited to be a little closer to sharing it. here's a schnippet
She turned to let Louis clasp the necklace. Louis’ fingers brushed the nape of her neck, and she shivered again. The chain settled across her collarbones, light as a feather.
this moment takes place in the bath hence the gif
I'm tagging @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome <3 share a line from ALIWC or anything else you're working on?
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hi pls enjoy this schneekos schnippet (okay to reblog)
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Hellbent Schnippet
Alec rolled his eyes then his focus moved past Dash and onto Raleigh, who froze.
"What're you drinking?" Alec's voice was gruff, but not openly bellicose.
"Um, just soda. Please. Thanks. I mean, you don't have to-"
Alec transferred his gaze back to Dash. "I'm still not sure how you deal with the babbling."
"Oh, you get used to it." Dash looked at Raleigh again; his smile was almost hopeful. "It's actually kinda endearing."
The hope in his eyes, Alec's effort, and Dash's previous words gave Raleigh a shove, and he gathered his courage.
"Well, more endearing than taciturn hostility, at least," he said, looking pointedly at Alec.
For about three seconds he was absolutely convinced he was going to be murdered, and then Alec snorted, looking away to hide his smile. Dash laughed, rocking to the side to bump Raleigh's shoulder with his own.
"That's hysterical laughter in taciturn badass, I promise," he said.
"Shut up, you." Alec's lips were still twitching. "If I need a translator I'll fucking ask for one."
Raleigh found himself grinning. It was a start.
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Golden Hook AU: “The Picture of Killian Jones” [based on “The Picture of Dorian Gray”]. I got really excited about this idea guys, so I even wrote a little fic-schnippet to go along with it.
The painting had rotted away like a corpse: the once-handsome image twisted and gnarled…decay seeping out of the frame. But it was not just the painting, he realized: the decay was now also seeping out of him, blood and blackness oozing out of his side, where the dagger wound had torn his skin.
Killian slowly raised his eyes, his hands shaking; his voice a shudder, rattling hollowly in his throat. “You,” he rasped, staring in horror at the devil before him. “What have you done to me?”
Gold’s eyes widened briefly, before turning to icy slits. “What have I done to you?” he hissed, advancing toward him, cane in tow. “What have I done to you?!”
The cane whipped through the air, like a flash of lightening, coming down hard on the table with a resounding CRACK! Killian immediately raised his arms as it rained nails and splinters.
“You’ve done it yourself, boy!” Gold snarled, his voice rising above the commotion with a terrifying fury. “You are the demon, not I!”
“I AM WHAT YOU MADE ME!” Killian roared.
Gold swung his cane again, this time shattering the window. Glass exploded in a hurricane around them, bloodying Killian’s hands and neck as the tiny blades struck skin. “The day you sought to conquer your humanity was the day you destroyed it!” Gold spat, merciless in his torment. “I did not create the evil inside you! It has been lurking in your soul from the day your mother cursed the world with your birth!”
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well, i wanted to post a fic in celebration of my birthday... sadly i didn't quite manage it. the struggles of being a habitual fic abandoner </3 but i still wanted to share some things ive been working on! so under the readmore are some snippets :)
as always, no promises these will be finished. i hope you like them anyway!! <3
from the aptly titled "virginphobic stanley":
“Nobody’s even touched your dick other than you, Trashmouth,” Stan says, a little dryly.
“False,” Richie says. “The piercer had to touch my dick to stab it. What, are you only allowed to get a dick piercing after you’ve lost your virginity? Don’t be virgin-phobic, Stan.”
from an attempt at writing my field hockey au:
“Shut up,” Eddie says, and pulls Richie’s hair free of the hair tie. He slides his fingers into the mess, gently finger-combing the dark curls together. It’s gross- or it should be gross, Richie’s hair damp with sweat, but Eddie finds that he doesn’t hate it. Richie still smells like his shampoo, something coconutty and sweet. Maggie had obviously found his uniform this week, because he actually didn’t stink of stale sweat for once. “Where, uh, where do the straps sit?”
Richie reaches a hand up, and traces where the straps of his face mask would sit, and Eddie pulls his handful of hair up a little more. With one more drag of his hand through the top of Richie’s head, just to try and collect any flyaways, he ties the ponytail, as tight as he could, in hopes it would stay tied this time. They stay there for a moment, Richie’s head tilted back, Eddie’s hand resting on his neck, before someone beside Eddie coughs. Eddie jumps back, eyes wide. He feels like he’s just been caught stealing. His heart is thumping loud in his ears, and he can feel his ears going hot.
“Not to break… this up,” Stan says, snapping his mouthguard container shut. “But Bill wants to talk strategy.”
titled "richie gets sent back in time and gives himself a hug":
“Take a long hard look at yourself, Tozier. This is what you get stuck with. Look forward to it, kid.”
“You’re not me,” Little Richie says, lip curled. He gestures to Richie with both hands, up and down. “I don’t look like that! You’re all- and you’re- and you don’t even have my nose!”
“I’ll give you that one,” Richie says, barking out a laugh, reaching up to touch his own nose. “But it’s called a nose job, dude. Don’t look so shocked. I hate your nose. You hate your nose.”
“I like your nose,” Little Eddie says. “Richie-” They both look at him. He frowns, emphasizing the lines beginning to grow on his face. “Okay, we gotta pick names.”
“Dibs Richie,” Richie says. “I’m older.”
“Fuck you,” Little Richie says.
#i need a personal tag#schnippet#my writing#idk. maybe this will force me into finishing at least one of these lol#reddie
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A heartbeat. A sound it hasn't it heard in years—millenia, maybe. It's hard to keep track after the first 100 days or so. Occasionally the Others find its nook in Aether and fill it in on what's happened in their never ending cycles of Recall and death. Someone tried to explain the concept of "jury duty" to them. It makes it glad that it's not its time for Recall just yet.
Or so it thought. It does not have eyes to see or ears to hear, but the steady lub-dub, lub-dub it feels reverberating around it is unmistakable.
It has been Recalled.
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Bluemountainmystix by N I G R U M & A L B U M https://soundcloud.com/nigrum/bluemountainmystix-schnippet
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hey rich. why r u thinking about that
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patron saint of self loathing Richie I luv u....
#youre not gonna believe what this fic is about#if it even gets finished. LOL#does anyone even want fic snippets. actually i dont care ur getting them anyway#schnippet
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