chrromie

[chrromie]

not a snippet sunday just a. snippet sharing day because i just wrote this and i. ough

Behind the haze of clouds, the briefest hint of the north star glinted down. He frowned as the view became obscured. Basil stood over him, hands on his hips. “Do you take delight in being an absolute idiot?” Nate took a breath, enjoying the earthy scent and pressure on his back. He let out a laugh, still reeling from the thrill of the fall. “Yeah, it was pretty fun, can’t lie.” “Are you going to lay there in the dirt all night?” He rolled his head around in a poor attempt at a shake. Basil stared down at him, eyebrows creased. “You’re fun to annoy, did you know that?”

[chrromie]

hiii i am opening commissions for the summer!!!! little cheap headshots just to give me some money to keep me goiingg until uni in september!

£5, £10 for shading - headshots/busts

and £15 for half-bodies, £20 for shading !!

im not doing full bodiess because i dont like. drawing them tbh!

for any paper textures/fun background stuff its an extra £5 :D

i take payment via ko-fi only!! i'll do humanoids only unfortunately, and no NSFW

[chrromie]

i was lazy and didnt make the drawings transparent. ignore that. yay

I FORGOR LINK WHOOPS. GO GET ME HERE

[chrromie]

lowell...... my lowelll......

[chrromie]

snippet sundaaaaay!!!!

Horrible, claggy emotions piled up in Nate like a tar pit. Any attempts to search inwards for descriptions of these feelings were met with the pit sucking him down, grasping at him like a toddler refusing to let go. He stood up, almost knocking over his untouched lemonade. All faces turned to him. “I’m just going for some air.” He excused himself, avoiding Jada’s teary eyes. As he stood up, Ian caught his wrist. Nate gazed down at him in resignation. “You’re not worried about her friends?” Ian nodded to Jada. “Too close to home is it?” “Ian, give him a break.” Kirby said. Nate opened his mouth to speak, but his voice got lost in the chaos. “Give him a break?” Ian jabbed a finger at him. “We have to deal with missing friends twice in a row! We don’t know if Jada’s friends have done what he did, or if they’re actually in danger.” Nate forced himself to shout. He pushed words out through his teeth like mud through a drain. “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. I wasn’t—” “Someone just kept pushing drinks into your hand then?” Clover cut in. “It’s hard to drink something accidentally.” “No, I just—” He gave up. Not even his drama GCSE could save him now. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Kirby gave him an encouraging nod. Nate turned to Jada, forcing himself to speak slowly. “And I’m sorry about your friends. Hope you hear from them soon.” Taking a breath, he moved towards the door. The enticing scent grew stronger, hanging thickly in the air. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

[chrromie]

ohhhh i care him alot.............

[chrromie]

the day after he says this he confesses his love btw.

[chrromie]

🌳 share a snippet featuring nature of any kind

and

🧠 share a snippet where the character realizes something important

:3

okay so the nature one might be a stretch, but heres nate falling face first into the dirt. the 2nd one im gonna piut these behind a read more because theyre both loong

Whatever Nate’s physical abilities might have become, three and a half hours was too far a walk for him. Miraculously, he had not gotten lost. He’d found the pub, the other pub, and the nightclub with ease. The streets were rife with students returning from a night out, but none gave him any mind. Clearly, he’d done an excellent job at rubbing the crusted blood off his arms. He blessed his drunken midnight walks when he found the familiar street with the little shop on the end. A pat on the back was deserved for managing without his phone. The road was deserted, street lights casting sickly yellow spotlights onto the ground. Dawn was upon him. He’d not felt the wrath of the sun just yet, but the prospects suffused his walk with a healthy dose of fear. The transition from moonlight to the dim waking of sunlight had been easy to miss. If Nate wasn’t looking out for it, the prickling, creeping sensation against his skin would have done the job. Approaching his front door, his hand curled around air in his pocket. He bumped his head against the wood of the door as memories of the alley came flashing back. The chances of a back window being open were abysmally low. Chances of Kirby being in: also low. He quickly dismissed waking the neighbours up at stupid o’clock. It was fully within his capabilities to break into his own house. Step one: brave the jungle that was his pitifully small back garden. Step two: slide up the window to the living room. A fight with the bolt on the garden gate ensued. It almost reigned victorious, if not for Nate’s frustrated foot coming close to swinging the thing off its hinges. The discarded rake lay in waiting, hidden beneath the dense foliage. He artfully dodged an embarrassing fall, before tripping over his own feet. Soft grass caressed his face, which was not currently smarting with pain, as he’d expected. The smell of dirt buried itself in Nate’s nose; at least that met his expectations. He stood up. The sun loomed along the horizon.

and then this is the "realising something important!" it includes two things kinda vampire lorey important so its a good one. there were a lot i had to choose from but yees

Catching up with five days worth of messages, calls and emails was enough to put Nate straight to sleep. The concerned texts from friends and family made his stomach wrench — especially the friendship group chat. He wished he had an excuse to not look at them. A hasty message to his boss had explained his stolen phone. He stared at his poor excuses, already seeing the growing faults and fractures in the story. Leaning back in his desk chair, he stared around his room. It barely felt like his any more, somehow disconnected from the posters and bulky tower of a computer. He turned the main light off. After his eyes adjusted – far too quickly – he flicked it back on, burying his face in his hands. An idea fluttered through his mind, taunting him. Lowering his glasses, he peered at the other side of the room. Relief rippled over him. The Hot Fuzz poster in pride of place above his bed was now just a few smeared, oily blobs. Glasses safely on his nose once more, he looked down, remembering he was not wearing his own shirt. Faint speckles of brown were encrusted around the neck. He chucked it on the pile of clothes encroaching on the rest of his room. The precarious stack looked and smelt like an old man who’d been glued to one spot for several days. Now, it was joined by the musty smell of death. He dug through his drawers and found his other Deftones shirt. Quietly mourning his ruined one, he slipped the fresh t-shirt on. The black cloth lingered in the corner of his vision. Temptations of burning it in the garden sparked, then died. They were replaced by a harsh chill of remembrance; he needed to freeze his card. Thirty minutes of agony was not enough to navigate the bank website. He clawed at his desk, chips of wood crunching up in his fingernails. For some godforsaken reason, the only way to freeze his account was through the mobile app. The one on his phone. After a desperate search, he found a phone number for the bank, with the opening times (regular hours, for regular people). With head in hands, he sighed. Even if he could stay up for long enough to ring them, what the hell would he even use to call them? At first, he had faith for his phone. It was second hand, and already two years old when he’d bought it. Maybe the thief had realised it was worth about as much as an ink-less pen. All hope was quickly shattered after he’d checked the GPS tracker. His family’s devices sat happily in their homes, but on his street the only thing that stared back at him was the desolate, empty map. Wood crumpled under his hand, his fingernails burying into the desk, making themselves comfortable in the grain. He stared at the fracture, fingers still embracing the splintered plank. He shut down his PC, disengaging his hand. Everything could wait for a while. Sleep could only make things better right now.

[chrromie]

We need more snippet ask games

Featuring my most recently used emojis.

⭐ share a snippet where a character is the best at something

💙share a snippet where a character falls out of love a little

✨ share a snippet featuring night time

🌈 share two lines that show the before/after of any growth a character made

📚 share a snippet where the character is being academic/is in an academic setting/is showing off their knowledge

🌳 share a snippet featuring nature of any kind

👁 share a snippet where the character is very visually engaged/a snippet with description

😭 share a snippet that will break our hearts

🐙 share a snippet where the character is being a brat/smartass

👩‍💻 share a snippet that you worked on for a long time or struggled with

🧠 share a snippet where the character realizes something important

🧢 share a snippet about clothes

🍇 share a snippet with food(or the palpable lack of food)

🎶 share a happy moment. ANY happy moment. You must have ONE.

💅 share a snippet showing a character embracing their lgbtqness

[chrromie]

snippit sindiy

an excuse to show off some of the things I learned when I went on a ghost hunt a few months back hahaha

“Ripley,” he said, once they were inside and no stray passersby could possibly hear. “I’ve learned a lot about vampires since we last hung out.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said. She dropped her bag and dropped down next to it, started pulling boxes and meters out.

Nat did the same. “Yeah,” he said. “I learned that we have to, like, kill people. And also that when we die we explode into a huge gory mess of eyes and teeth. If we get shot in the brain or poisoned real bad.”

“Pretty fucking gnarly, hey?”

“Mm,” Nat said. “What kind of people do you go after?”

“Oh, I mostly just hang out at bars and eat creeps,” Ripley said. “Someone slips something into someone’s drink, someone gets a little too nonconsensually handsy… I’ll lure ‘em out back and take care of ‘em.”

“Cool,” Nat said. But Quinn’s earlier concern still scratched at his mind. “Doesn’t that get dangerous, though?” he asked. “Like, what if someone sees you? What if someone traces the deaths back to you?”

“Well, the cops are useless, for one,” Ripley said. She started fiddling with a small box and a few blinking lights snapped on. “Drunk people aren’t the most observant, either. It’s fine.”

“And vampire hunters?” Nat pressed.

She tilted her head. “We don’t get those here too often anymore. Hunters don’t think there’s many vampires left in Darwelaide.”

“What about the Knight?”

“The Knight?” Ripley peered at him over the top of her box. “Where did you hear that name?”

“From… um, Quinn.”

She pursed her lips. “Oh,” she said. “Well, they’re probably just trying to rile you up, get you nervous. The Knight hasn’t been around for twenty, thirty years. She’s pretty famous. And pretty dead.”

Ripley nudged through the collection of objects on the ground with her boot, naming each of them as she did so.

“We got EMF readers for measuring fluctuations in electromagnetic fields,” she said. “We got digital voice recorders to record sounds beyond human hearing…”

“Beyond vampire hearing, too?”

“Depends how nervous you are.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Not scared of ghosts, Natty?”

“Not really. But kind of. But not. I mean, I don’t think they exist,” Nat said. “But I used to think vampires didn’t exist either. And I watched Supernatural Activity when I was way too young for it and it scarred me for life.”

Ripley laughed. “We’re probably the scariest things out here. What’s a ghost going to do to a vampire?”

“It could shoot me in the brain or poison me real bad.”

Her laugh became a cackle. When she settled, she said, “We have infrared thermometers, for measuring mysterious drops in temperature. Cold spots. We got motion-sensing cat toys—”

“Why?”

“The cat toys? Yeah, they cost, like, two dollars and work as good as any proper ghost-hunting sensor. They start flashing whenever something touches them.” Ripley unzipped a small case and pulled out a few seemingly unrelated objects. “We have trigger items here—things the ghosts of old might find interesting. Flask of alcohol, chocolate, tobacco… we put the cat toys with a trigger item and see what happens.”

“Oh, cool!” Nat said.

“And this guy”—Ripley waved about the box she was holding—“is a spirit box. It’s really fun. We’ll do this one together.”

“How does it work?”

“It scans through radio frequencies in little bursts and provides a way for spirits to communicate.”

“Ooh.”

“Here, grab some of these and turn them on.” Ripley made a sweeping motion to her equipment. “Go nuts! Go put ‘em around the place, anywhere that gives you spooky vibes.”

“We don’t keep them with us?”

“Ghosts are skittish. Ghosts are shy. You want to leave the devices in peace, mostly.”

[chrromie]

snippet sunday :-D

Why did all corporate waiting rooms have to be so boring? Anna twiddled her thumbs, staring at the endless grey tiles beneath her feet. Slightly different shades of grey peered at her from the walls, occasionally broken up by some abstract modern art that veered into dangerous territories, like beige. Maybe all CEO’s were secretly colour-blind, and this was their way of making everyone else feel just as miserable. The tapping of her foot echoed around the room. After work hours, the place was deserted; Most employees seemed to be smart enough to clear out when the CEO woke up. A couple people, however, had passed by, shooting her pitying looks as she sat huddling in her cardigan outside Mr. Raine’s office. Pulling her handbag onto her lap, she checked her inventory: perfume bottle? Check. Lighter? Check. Chair leg? Check. Satisfied, she pushed the bag between her legs. She ran a hand through her hair, clearing her mind of any rogue thoughts. There was no room for error.

[chrromie]

dangerously charismatic characters who can get people to do whatever they want and make people think it was their own idea vs POV character who just sees them as an irritating prick

[chrromie]

Snippet Sunday - lots of blood!

TW FOR BLOOD AND INJURY

He had made it to a suburban sprawl, and climbed a fence into some trees. She was close. Very close. He broke into a run, his heart thudding pathetically in his dead chest. And as he charged through the vegetation and shadows he could smell her. Warm, metallic, salty, unmistakably her blood, it made his gums and teeth itch and set his throat clicking loudly.

He came up to another fence, and ran alongside it, the smell of blood strong in the air. On the other side of the fence there was a red scrape in the tarmac, still fresh, and he barely suppressed a whimper as he contemplated how injured she must have been when she squeezed under the fence.

The trail of blood along the floor painted the air in a thick rich smell, it was delicious, it meant she was in trouble, it was intoxicating and beautiful and it heralded something awful, unthinkable. He knew exactly where she’d hidden herself, but as his jaws ached to bite and his claws longed to rip into flesh. He thought how he wanted his first kill to be her, and pushed this thought down under the overwhelming anxiety that he had left her alone for one day and she had become terribly hurt.

He could see the vague shape of the bush, but he couldn’t see Harriet clearly. He waited, tensely, trying to restrain himself, but then he dove into the bush, dragging Harriet out.

She swore at him, and the vampire was relieved. She seemed a little delirious, trying to push away from him, but he held the little scientist tightly, trying to assess the damage. She was coated and soaked in blood, she smelled gorgeous, he was horrified – the flesh on her shoulder was torn, her trousers were ripped and gory around the calf muscle on one leg, her socks soaked through with blood, there was so much blood, her hands and elbows scraped and bloody, he wanted to lick it off her skin.

“Victor! Fucking put me down!” she choked. “This fucking hurts!”

“Sorry!” His throat clicked fast and loud, like a song, like a celebration, he held his squirming prey tightly. She smelled so good. His best friend was hurt! Injured! In pain! He needed to focus on that! He didn’t put her down, he couldn’t think of relinquishing her like that.

 It was like holding something warm and freshly baked and delicious, it was like ripe fruit, and his skin had been burned by sunlight, and he would feel better if he just let himself bite-

Agent 64 came charging out of the bushes. “Ah!” He skidded to a halt, quickly assessing the situation. There was a lot to assess. “Victor! Harriet!”

“She’s hurt!” yelped Victor, as if it needed saying. There was so much blood.

“Okay,” said Agent 64, somehow containing a world of soothing calm in a single word. “Let me look at her,”

Victor lowered Harriet for the Agent to inspect, and she hissed in pain. He quickly examined her – she seemed safe to move. “Can you hold her like this?” He moved Victor’s hands while he instructed him. “Pressure on the shoulder, we’ll put pressure on her calf once we’ve got her settled down in the van, okay?”

The vampire whimpered – as he stemmed the blood flow with his fingers he could feel her heartbeat. It was nauseating to him, how hurt she was, and how much he wanted to put his mouth to that horrific wound and suckle her life from it. He was disgusting.

“Don’t let him carry me!” despaired Harriet as 64 led the vampire back through the rhododendrons. “Please! This hurts so fucking much-”

“We’re nearly somewhere safe,” assured the Agent. “You’ve been brave – where’s Matt? Is he with you?”

[chrromie]

snippet sundayyy????? (idea shamelessly pinched from @albatris)

An icy silence had wormed its way in between Nate and Basil. They sat on opposite ends of the sofa, staring at separate points of the room. If it wasn’t for the stolen blood heating his limbs, the atmosphere would have given Nate frostbite hours ago. Hands itching for something to hold, he grabbed a book from the coffee table. The pages were dog-eared, cover bent back and spine cracked beyond saving. He squinted at the cover. It was one of the classics that he really should have read, and that Kiran always begged him to try. He vaguely recognised the author; someone had definitely mentioned Oscar Wilde before, but the memory lay hidden in the back of his mind. “An excellent book.” Basil collided with his train of thought. Nate glared at his innocently curious expression. “Have you read it?” Nate shook his head. “Well… you should.” Basil tapped his knee. “This is going to get boring if you don’t engage in conversation.” Avoiding his gaze, Nate opened the book. “Shut up, I’m reading.” Basil scoffed, “That’s the title page. It doesn’t take you that long to read, does it?” He turned to the first page loudly. Words waved around on the paper, dodging Nate’s attempts to take them in. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up as he felt Basil’s stare on him. “You can’t keep ignoring me forever.” Nate turned the next page. Too many commas and complicated words. He flicked straight to the last chapter. He turned back to the start. Basil shifted on the sofa, soft breath brushing against his ear. Nate stared at the pages harder, gritting his teeth. “Not ignoring you, just reading.” “Name one character,” Basil said. Nate checked the front cover. “Dorian.” “That’s cheating.” “No it’s not. He’s a character.” Slamming the book back down on the table, Nate turned to face him. “Why are you acting like you haven’t just completely fucked me over?” Fingernails bit into his skin. He reminded himself to breathe.

[chrromie]

The Tower: disaster, destruction, upheaval, trauma, sudden change, chaos

[chrromie]

nooo bramble watch outtttt

the joys of pathfinder leshy's have been beamed unto me..........

[chrromie]

the joys of pathfinder leshy's have been beamed unto me..........