#grahamcrxcker

[brokentoofar-archive]

@grahamcrxcker

Leo looks up from the stove to see the other walk in. “Hey Will! I’m making dinner for the house if you’re interested! I can pack it away for ya if ya have to go back to classes.” She smiles before turning to the mixing bowl of cookie dough. After moving into the Sigma house Sophomore year Leo spent most of her time in the kitchen. There was a rumor that she had somehow built a bed into the walls. “How’d the lecture go? I hope it didn’t bore ya.”

[withoutxfear]

This just in. Will Graham isn’t traumatized enough to never accept food from someone he barely knows. Hannibal hasn't ruined him completely in that aspect.

[shilo-hi-low-blog]

A Study in Pity || Closed

@grahamcrxcker Shilo had been sleeping the day away after a long night at work, but had been rudely awakened by a sharp banging on her door. Half asleep still, she pulled on her robe to cover herself as she fumbled to open the door. She didn't bother looking through the peephole in her door, but instead just swung it open. "Oh, um hello." Shilo blinked the sleep out of her eyes, realizing quickly that this probably wasn't a noise complaint. "Are you here about Stacy?" She asked somberly, pushing her heavy curls out of her face. A fellow dancer had gone missing, and the police suspected it to be a serial killer who had been targeting girls in the area. They'd handed it over to the FBI, who now stood outside her apartment.

[vcmpmommy]

@grahamcrxcker || starter call

          “You’ve been watching me.  I’ve been watching Y O U.  It seems fair.”

[begrimedchains]

[Milkin’ It]

   @grahamcrxcker

"Are ya lactatin' there, or do y'just need some bigger jammies? Yer gonna puts an eye out.” 

“I have….night sweats.” … “What are you doing in my house?”

  His head tilts from side to side as he weighs the value of the explanation in the thinking space it now occupied between his ears. The Crooked could have sworn he heard rattling as thoughtless words failed to fill the gaps in his holed bridge of an imagination, indicating that the sentiment attached to them was less true than the sweaty man seemed to think it was, and--adequately so,deemed full of horse shit. Mustering an unconvinced growl from his resting place on the floor, he shifts to align the kink in his spine against the back of the couch, cross-legged as he continues the man’s dubious explanation. “I gets covered in all sortsa shit. This tank’s practi’cly infused to m’flesh, n’ya don’t see no hide’re hair ah these nips. Better take yerself some place private like n’see if yer needin’ t’be milked.” Sometimes, he wanted to tell Dwight the same thing. The man often jiggled when he ran.

  Speaking of milk, and breaking into houses...Billy snorts, snagging the half gallon he’d scrounged up from the kitchen. With the cap already twisted off, he wastes no time in tipping the jug back and enjoying a nice midnight chugging--most of which ended up soaking the shreds of fabric he called his shirt when his weak jaw fails to swallow the load in time. “Aw, y’know. Jist weanin’ m’self.” Although it might take more than him growling quietly at the mutts lapping the spilled milk around his terror radius to shoo them off before those pink scavenger tongues will turn their frantic flapping on him.

[serratedjaws-blog]

                                                  @grahamcrxcker

Trapper took a deep breath in,  slowly releasing as he marched around his old estate that was left in  RUINS  within the Entity’s grasp.  This place..  wasn’t much of a home anymore.  It was a  PLAYGROUND  of the sorts,  almost a sort of arena where the spidery-like God in the sky watched from every angle imaginable as the cleaver-wielding beast  ( as well as many others )  sacrificed pathetic lives on a day to day bases so the  THING  could feed on the false hope the survivors somehow managed to bare.  It was an endless, THANKLESS  job.  Sure,  in away the killers required abilities and the sort to make the task easier;  however,  these  PERKS  never managed to makeup for the punishment given if the job wasn’t handled correctly. It doesn’t even come close to making up for capturing  ( The )  Evan Macmillan,  STEALING  his life away even though he was in a bit of a predicament...

                                                                           -------- It  saved  Evan.                                               But the beast would never admit it out-loud.

Luckily,  this round didn’t turn out to be quite that difficult,  aside from the generators that seemed to be popping out of completion after every other kill.  There was just  ONE  survivor left now..  The one that seemed to be tinkering and finishing off the machinery quicker than the rest ever could.  This one is  NEW.  And he’s  close  according to the heightening volume of the Entity’s unearthly whispers within the brute’s ear.   Trapper twisted his head in every possible direction,  squinting through the thick smoke at his feet as he readied his weapon for the final  SLICE.