#ghoulcrew

[sightgiven]

@ghoul-crew || Original. || Damon.

“Because you always play mind games, Damon. Whenever someone calls you out, you act as if you’ve done nothing wrong.” Arms crossed over her chest. It infuriated her how he’d brush off her concerns as if she was the crazy one. He always down played his own behaviour and it drove her up the wall. “How can I not worry, especially when my loved ones are involved?”

[sightgiven]

@ghoul-crew || Caroline

“You know me, Care. I’m so bad at matching I might as well be color blind.” Her eyes drifted over the piles of clothes. “Can’t we just put these back? I don’t want Jenna to see this mess.” Honestly she wasn’t as nearly into fashion as her friend was. Elena would rather slap on a pair of jeans and a cotton long sleeved shirt and call it a day.

[unapologeticbiroace-archived]

Because when all else fails, send extremely graphic and bloody images with built in death threats to try and shut an inclusionist up, right exclusionists??  I couldn’t even screenshot the second one as it was so fucking graphic.

EXCLUSIONIST PLEASE COME COLLECT YOUR FUCKING GARBAGE, PLEASE.

INCLUSIONISTS:  BLOCK, NO PLATFORM, CALLOUT

[maggie-the-ghoul]

I HAVE A NEED FOR PROMPTS

I should really do more writing of our fictional ghoulcrew peeps. Send me prompts and/or ideas and/or OCs and maybe the creative juices can get flowing again!

(tagging @theghoulcrew to spread this and also because I’m sure Meep might have an idea or two)

[skizoh]

@maggie-the-ghoul ‘s commission   for @monsterrpblog and @baskinglizard

<3 

[maggie-the-ghoul]

A Graham Christmas

Happy Holidays to all my awesome friends at the ghoul crew!! I was inspired (mostly by Meep) to write a little something for Christmas. Featuring baby Grahams and holiday feels!

OCs:

Elliott and Eileen Graham are mine WIlliam, Michael, Patrick, Shane and Vincent Graham are @monster-jensen‘s Bastion and Carla Graham are @unromancable‘s Avery is @meldraws‘s Eris is @baskinglizard‘s Abby is @a-gutter-of-ghouls‘s

<3

*

It started with the twins.

The pitter-patter of tiny feet on creaking wood was unmistakable. Ears trained to catch such disturbances, Eileen cracked open an eye, not surprised to see it was still dark outside. Winters were much longer now, though today was a day when the children had to get up as early as possible. After all, it was Christmas.

Timing impeccable as always, Carla stirred in her crib, soft sleepy coos turning into quiet whining. Eileen sighed, but before she could move a large, warm hand pressed lightly on her shoulder. “Ah'll get her,” William croaked, voice raspy from sleep.

“Ah'll get the boys then,” Eileen murmured, pressing a kiss to William's arm as he got up. Suddenly she was assaulted by whiskers as he leaned over her, capturing her lips with his, making her heart flutter. When he pulled back, there was a twinkle in his wife's eyes. “One o' these days we'll be able ta sleep in.”

“One day.” It was an in-joke between them. Last time they slept in was over ten years ago, before their eldest son was born. With each child that followed, and as their farm expanded, it became less likely that they'd ever sleep past dawn again. But neither of them minded- their family was more than worth the early mornings. “Merry Christmas dear.”

“Merry Christmas.” Eileen's movements were practiced as she got up, reaching for her robe and drawing it tight around her waist as she stepped into the hallway. Sure enough, her two youngest sons stood before her, bouncing impatiently and looking up at her with eager eyes. She was quite sure they hadn't slept at all, and would tire themselves out quickly after opening their- “Presents!” They exclaimed in unison, making grabby hands. “Presents!”

“Merry Christmas ta ye too, boys.” They groaned dramatically as she grabbed them into a tight hug, wiggling in her grip. She held on a long time before letting them go. “Now go git yer brothers.”

Those were dangerous words to utter, but Eileen was still waking up, and she knew the older boys wouldn't mind as much if they were disturbed from sleep from the two little hell-raisers. Vincent whooped and immediately ran to Michael's room, no doubt to jump on him, while Shane quietly shuffled into Bastion's room. Making her way downstairs, Eileen put the kettle on and waited for the rest of the family to gather. By the time William came down with a calmed Carla, and the boys tripped over themselves to be the first one to the presents, her tea had woken her up, and she joined the others in the living room. Her and her husband sat on the couch while the others gathered around the tree, eyeing the generous pile of gifts that awaited them.

It was a sad-looking Christmas tree compared to the ones Eileen had growing up, with very few branches on it and even fewer leaves. William would only chop dead trees, not wanting to disturb whatever greenery managed to grow and thrive in the Wasteland. The kids brought the tree to life with homemade decorations, and scarves to serve as garland, not minding the shabbiness of it. Each member of the family also had a stocking, hung along the mantle of their fireplace.

The boys tore through their presents, paper flying everywhere. Everything under the tree was for them, except for six- one from each boy to their parents. Eileen and William agreed long ago that the focus of the holiday should be on their children, wanting to give them everything they could for as long as they could. Gifts ranged from practical items or tools, to new clothes, to toys. Some made from scratch, others traded or bought with their hard-earned caps. Any religious meaning to the day was carefully ignored. Eileen herself had been raised Catholic, but after that horrible day when her world ended, she could no longer bring herself to maintain her faith. To her, holidays were about celebrating family and togetherness. One didn't need a higher power to do that.

“Mumma?” A small hand tugged at Eileen's skirt, and she smiled down at Shane, who was drowning in a wool sweater that was three sizes too big for him- originally Patrick's gift, but traded for the puzzle box he'd gotten. “Yes dear?”

Shane bit his lip, looking up at his parents with an almost sad expression. “How come we get more presents than ye?”

Chuckling, William reached over and ruffled his boy's hair. “Yer mama an' ah don't need spoilin'. Bein' able ta have a special day tahgether's more than enough fer us.”

“Oh.” Shane seemed let down by the answer, and Eileen couldn't help but be proud. He had a big heart, that one.

“Actually...” Bastion glanced at his older brothers, who all gave him a subtle nod in return, “We kinda got one other present fer yeh!”

William and Eileen traded surprised glances. Normally nothing got past them, how did their sons manage to keep a secret gift from them? Curious, they huddled up together on the couch as Michael, Elliott, Patrick, and Bastion gathered in front of them. They looked nervous, and soon it became clear why as they began to sing.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know Where the treetops glisten and children listen To hear sleigh bells in the snow~”

Eileen burst into delighted laughter. She hadn't heard that song since she was a child! Somehow they'd learned it, and sang it marvellously. Happy tears welled in her eyes, and she heard William try to hide a sniffle. When the song finished, Eileen applauded enthusiastically as the boys took a bow. “What a lovely surprise, boys,” she gushed, gesturing them close. The family gathered into a group hug. “What a wonderful Christmas yeh've made this.”

“But we wanna sing fer Christmas too!” Vincent whined. Within seconds the moment was ruined as the boys started arguing over what song to sing next year and whether the twins could join in, and the shouting startled Carla and made her cry. William immediately started telling the boys off for disturbing their baby sister. The cacophony of noise might've overwhelmed a lesser person, but Eileen reveled in it. As long as her family was under her roof, she was happy.

* * *

Elliott slowly awakened, the chill in the room making him curl closer to Avery’s warmth. His fiancé slept on, oblivious to the world, and Elliott watched him for a moment before braving the cold to roll out of bed. He grabbed his jeans and one of his flannel shirts, quietly getting dressed before shuffling out into the living room. As he began building a fire in the hearth, he heard a door open, and looked over as Eris descended the steps that led to her bedroom. “Hi Papa Lottie,” Eris whispered, clutching Bourbon to her. “Is Papa Ave still sleeping?”

“Mornin' darlin', an' Merry Christmas,” he whispered back, hugging her close. This was their first Christmas with the three of them together as a family, and Elliott couldn't be more grateful to have a daughter in his life now. “Yeah, but ah bet he'll be up soon. Ah'm just gonna get started on some chores so we can have a nice, quiet day tahgether. Well, at least till the rest o' the family joins us fer supper. Sound good?” Eris nodded, bouncing on her heels as she looked over at the gifts that lay by the fireplace. Elliott smiled fondly, reminded strongly of him and his siblings when they were her age. Some things never change.

Now bundled up, Elliott went outside, the frosty winter air turning his cheeks red. The blizzard that had hit them a few days ago left a nice blanket of snow on the ground, but today the sky was clear. He began his rounds at the stable, checking on Ebony and the brahmin. Their shelter was well insulated, and each animal had a blanket draped around it for added warmth. Once they were fed he grabbed his shovel, making sure the area in front of the ranch entrance was clear of ice and snow. He didn't want anyone slipping and falling.

As he was finishing up, he saw a familiar figure making her way across the settlement. “Abby!” Elliott called out and waved at the redhead, grinning as she waved back. “Merry Christmas!” She responded in kind, promising to stop by later in the day. He wondered if she was on her way to the clinic to work. He hoped not- she deserved a break, especially on a holiday. Or maybe she was going to visit that mysterious boyfriend of hers. He hadn't shown up to her party, so perhaps they were having a private celebration. Smirking at the thought, he trudged over to the storage shed next to the stables, grabbing a handful of firewood for the house.

Avery was up as Elliott returned inside, brewing coffee and trying to deter Eris from trying some- “Yer already a lil bundle of energy!” He laughed, expression brightening as he caught Elliott's gaze. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, Ave.” After storing the firewood and shucking his outerwear, Elliott grabbed some coffee and flopped down on the couch. Avery joined him soon after.

“So, are you two gonna tell me all about Christmas?” Eris asked curiously, sitting cross-legged on the floor by the presents.

Elliott nodded. “Ave can prolly explain the history o' the holiday better than ah can. But let's start with presents, hmm?”

They opened their presents one by one. Eris was especially doted on by her parents, and she gasped in delight and hugged them with every gift she opened. She almost didn't believe Elliott when he told her she'd be getting even more presents later from her uncles, but after explaining it was a tradition for Graham children to get spoiled on Christmas, she easily accepted it.

“Best Christmas I've had in years,” Avery told him later, as they prepared supper together.

Chuckling, Elliott wrapped his arm around Avery's waist and tugged him close. “Meh too, Ave.” He kissed him. “Meh too.”

*

[maggie-the-ghoul]

A Quiet Night

Been doing some RP with the Grahams as young kids, and I decided to write a thing. Enjoy!

Ages:

Michael: 10 Elliott: 8 Patrick: 6 Bastion: 5 Shane and Vincent: 3 Carla: 1

*

In the still of the night, the residents of the Graham farm slumbered. A usually hectic household during daytime, now there was no sound except the wind blowing about the eaves, and, in one room, a childlike whimper of distress.

Elliott holds his favourite toy, a stuffed horse, close to his chest. Its mane tickles his nose, but it doesn't make him smile like it usually does. His stomach twinges in discomfort, and he whimpers again. Maybe he should get up and go to his mama, or to Michael, but he doesn't want to move from the bed. Curled up in the fetal position was the only way he could keep comfortable. Even so, he wished he wasn't alone, and he sniffles into Horsey.

All at once warmth descends around him, and a familiar smell of wood and cinnamon. “Lil Lottie, what's wrong?” A melodic voice shushed him gently as a soft hand runs through his hair.

Once again, Eileen Grace Graham displayed her particular skill of always knowing when one of her children needed her. She appears with every scraped knee before a cry can even go out, and always knows when comfort is required. A hug, a tickle, a dessert- whatever the situation needs, she provides without even being asked.

“Mah tummy hurts,” Elliott whines, turning his head to look up at his mama with bright eyes. The hallway light cast a pale glow into the room, highlighting the pain on his face. It was a look she was familiar with, what with seven children, but it still broke her heart every time.

“S'okay, lil Lottie.” She gathers him up, holding him in her lap and tucking the blanket around him. “It'll pass. Pain always passes.”

“Mmph.” Nestled comfortably against his mother, Elliott closes his eyes. The pain had kept him from sleeping, but in his mothers arms he felt like maybe he could, that his tummy ache would go away after all. His small fist curls into her nightgown, and after a moment, he pops his thumb into his mouth. Chuckling, Eileen rocks him gently, allowing him the comfort. She starts to hum a gentle tune, his favourite lullaby.

Elliott's breathing begins to even out, his grip on her eventually loosening. Only when she's sure he's asleep does she set her son back down, drawing the quilt up and tucking it around his stomach so that the warmth will keep the pain from returning. She expects him to be back to his usual self by morning, and with a gentle kiss she leaves him, closing the door quietly behind her.

Standing in the hallway, Eileen listens to the calm that only permeates the house at nighttime. Whenever her dear William went away on a trading trip, as he had earlier today, she'd often spend the night restlessly, to eventually sleep in one of her children's rooms, so unaccustomed to sleeping alone. Not a night went by when at least one of them didn't need her anyways.

Her first stop on the rest of her nightly rounds was Michael's room. Of course he was getting to be that age where he wanted his room for himself and no one else, but she still checked in on him when he wasn't awake to protest. His comforter is half off the bed, as he is, gangly limbs all over the place, and she gingerly moves him back to the middle of the mattress and tucks him in. She takes a long moment to cherish the peaceful look on his face.

Bastion is next. He slept soundly, no hint he'd moved at all during the night, like a little rock tucked underneath the blankets. “Ach aisling taitneamhach ar do shon anocht, mo mhac.” She brushes his hair out of his face and kisses his forehead. Their dog is cuddled up against him, and she gives the pooch a quick pet before she goes.

Patrick is a similarly deep sleeper, though instead of being curled onto his side he slept on his back, sheets piled at his feet. Eileen leaves them there, knowing he slept better when he wasn't too warm. She does tug down the sleeves and legs of his pyjamas to make sure his extremities stay warm.

The baby of the family is next. As soon as she steps into Carla's room she can see the infant, her only daughter, is awake and restless, seconds away from waking the whole house with her cries. Eileen spends as long with her as she did with Elliott, singing the same lullaby as she feeds and changes her. By the time Carla's set back down in her crib, she's cooing sleepily, and it's not a full minute before she slumbers again.

Last stop, the nursery, still reserved for the twins since it's a bigger room and there was no question of keeping them together. The door was ajar so she could poke her head in- any more than that and she risked waking them. It was considered a bloody miracle when they fell asleep at the same time, moreso when they actually stayed that way for the entire night. She wasn't about to disturb them.

Satisfied that her babies were resting safe and sound, she goes back to her room. Carla wouldn't wake again till morning, and the others would sleep even longer. No vigil was required, and so she would embrace the solitude. Instead of getting into bed, Eileen grabs her knitting needles and sits in her rocking chair by the window. The moonlight illuminates her work, and the content smile on her face.

[skizoh]

Birthday gift for @vectober <3