#i need to write more ghoulette things ah!!

[everybodyshusband]

post-show ritual

mushy may ; day three !! (approx. 680 words)

read the rest of my mushy may collection on ao3 :)

Cumulus stretched her arms out to the exhausted ghoulette in front of her, willing Sunshine to fall into her arms. “C’mon, Sunny. C’mere, let me hold you for a bit.”

Sunshine tugged her mask off and tossed it on the dressing room bench before collapsing into the chair in front of her. She reached out her arms towards Cumulus with an exhausted huff. “Hold me, ‘Lus,” she whined. “‘M so tired…”

Cumulus walked over from her side of the mirror and stroked a hand through Sunshine’s hair, purring softly. “I know, my star, I know.” As she always was after a ritual, when Cumulus ran her fingers through it, she was struck by just how knotted Sunshine’s hair had become underneath her stage mask. The sheer amount of knots the youngest ghoulette’s hair managed to hold after a demanding show was truly impressive. “You want me to brush your hair, baby? Get all the sweat and knots out for you?”

Sunshine trilled and nodded, leaning further into Cumulus’ touch. “Would you?”

Cumulus laughed and nuzzled her cheek against Sunny’s hair. “Of course, love. That’s why I offered.”

(It always went like this. Once the night’s ritual concluded—regardless of the city the band were performing in—Sunshine would drag her feet all the way back to the dressing rooms and do her best to convince one of the other ghoulettes to brush her hair for her. And neither Cumulus nor Cirrus could ever even entertain the possibility of denying Sunshine of her request. Sometimes, if Sunshine was lucky, both ghoulettes would aid her in the brushing out of her thick, tangled curls. But tonight, Cirrus had pulled a dead-on-his-feet Aether off to one of the other—notably empty—dressing rooms, and Cumulus had heard her offering up the possibility of allowing him to let go of his responsibilities and float for a while. Presumably, he’s said yes; he’d be a madman to deny any form of affection-slash-domination from Cirrus, in Cumulus’ humble opinion.)

The air ghoulette reached into the stage bag they both share with Cirrus and pulled out one of Sunshine’s favourite brushes; she’s always claimed it feels the nicest against her scalp, especially after a tiring day. Cumulus set it down on the counter in front of them both and began raking her fingers properly through Sunshine’s hair, doing her best to rid it of any smudged face paint and hair products that have weaselled their way into it over the course of that night’s ritual. Once she was sure most of the paint was out, she picked the hairbrush back up and began brushing it through Sunshine’s hair properly, taking her time so as not to hurt her partner.

Sunshine hummed happily and leant further back into Cumulus’ touch, a small smile settling on her lips as her eyes closed of their own accord. She could already feel the tension draining from her muscles, loosening even further with each pass of the brush through her hair.

After a few more minutes of brushing, Cumulus let out a pleased trill. “I think all the knots are out now, Sunny!”

Sunshine turned in her chair and pulled Cumulus’ face down until it was level with her own, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you, ‘Lus.” She rested her forehead against her partner’s and sighed contentedly, taking in Cumulus’ soft blush at her own undivided attention.

Cumulus wrapped her arms around Sunshine as well as she could manage with the awkward angle they both found themselves in and kissed the top of her head. “D’you want me to brush your curl stuff through as well? I don’t mind doing it.”

Sunshine tilted her head, considering. “Mmm, shower first? Then we can do that back on the bus?”

At the mention of a shower, Cumulus practically melted. She’d been so eager to brush Sunshine’s hair out that she’d forgotten how hot and sweaty she’d become. “A shower sounds perfect, Sunny, Good plan.”

Sunshine stood and took hold of Cumulus’ hand, leading her in the direction of the showers. “C’mon, love. Let me take care of you now.”

[ghostussy]

Uno Night

Primo x teen, sleepy reader (Platonic)

Primo finds you asleep, listening to his album.

/ / /

yeah. no explanation. it's 2 am and zoo has sleepy bitch disease (again)

. . .

"Where's the kid?"

A silence fell over the room. Copia looked to his brothers. "Haven't you seen y/n? Surely they're running around here somewhere."

"You know teenagers," spoke Secondo. "You know, when I was their age-"

"We know, fratello. Let's hope they're not following in your footsteps," Terzo interrupts. "They don't cause trouble, generally. Unless they're with the ghouls; then we should have need for concern."

"Oh, lord below, I'm sure they are fine. They're nearly an adult you know. But if you are that concerned, Copia, I will go look for them. The three of you can continue without me."

"Thank you, fratello. I do appreciate it. It is not like them to miss Uno night."

Primo rolled his eyes before walking out the door.

His footsteps echoed loudly throughout the empty hall. There was not a soul in sight; no ghouls, siblings, or even Sister Imperator. He wondered what everyone could be up to; it was most likely that everyone had their own things going on. He imagined siblings in their own private quarters, partaking in their own individual activities. A bit of light reading, perhaps; or watching TV, drawing, writing, working, sleeping.

He wondered what you could be up to. It was possible you were with the ghouls; or maybe you were in your own bedroom, having forgotten about tonight's game. Maybe you were in the kitchen, making a late night snack. Maybe you had elected to spend the night with another sibling. No matter what you were doing, he was determined to discover your whereabouts. He just hoped it wasn't mischievous or dangerous.

As he approached your bedroom, he listened for any signs of life. He heard none, even after he knocked on your door. Opening the door, he discovered your still-made bed; he supposed you hadn't been in there yet for the night. He continued to ponder where you could be.

Next he tried the kitchen. Though he discovered a small group of ghouls that were absolutely up to no good, he didn't find you. He rolled his eyes as Aether swallowed a banana whole with the peel, turning to leave.

"Have you checked the commons?" Called Swiss.

"No, I have not. Is that where they are?"

"They were earlier. 'Dunno if they still are though," Aether manages with a mouthful of banana.

"Ah, well- thank you. I will stop by." He starts walking out the door once more. "Please stop eating the bananas whole!" He calls.

As he heads towards the common room, he wonders what you could be doing there. Sometimes the ghoulettes host game nights, which may explain the halls' emptiness.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, he is met with an empty common room. A fire is roaring in the fireplace, the only defense against the bitter chill that plagues the Ministry at this time of year.

He walks to the center of the room, making his way around the giant couch. Once he does, he spots you.

You're fast asleep, tangled up in a thin green blanket within the soft confines of the couch. You're curled up slightly, chest rising and falling with steady rhythms. He spots your phone, clutched tightly in hand, a pair of earbuds connected and in your ears.

With a sigh, he steps closer to your figure. He carefully removes the earbuds and phone from your grasp, turning it on to pause whatever you had drifted off listening to. He smiles, chuckling to himself when he sees.

You had fallen asleep to Opus Eponymous.

His album.

He leans down to your height. Brushing the hair out of your face, he decides to rouse you.

You stir, a deep whine escaping your lips as you crack your eyelids open. "...Primo?"

"Ah, good evening," he greets, "are you ready for bed, dolce?"

"What?" Your voice is rough with sleep, confusion on your face.

He chuckles. "Let's get you to bed." He reaches out to pull the blanket off of you; you whine, burying your face in your arms. "Come on now, don't be difficult. Bedtime, let's go." You don't move, breaths steadying once more. He sighs, using his hands to shake you gently. "Bambino, wake up. Bedtime."

Finally, you awaken. You open your eyes fully, brows knitting together in confusion as you use your arms to lift yourself slightly. You suck in a deep breath, unable to form words quite yet.

"Hello sleeping beauty," he teases, "are you ready for bed?"

You rub your eyes, pushing yourself to sit up on the couch. The remaining part of the blanket falls from your form, ending into a pile around you. You sleepily nod.

He helps you stand, smiling at the way you press yourself against his side for warmth. He picks up the blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, then returns your cell phone.

"My dear, I saw what you were listening to. How on Earth did you fall asleep to my album? It is not, eh... very soothing."

"Missed you," you mumble, still too drowsy to think.

"'Missed me?' I am right here."

"Busy."

"Ah, well. Would you miss me a little less if I took you to bed?"

"Mhm."

"Very well. But first we must meet with my brothers. They are very worried about you."

"Huh? Why?"

"It is Uno night. Have you forgotten?"

"Aw... I wanna play Uno..."

"Nope. Bedtime."

"Please?"

"No."

"Can I at least watch for a bit?"

He sighs. "Fine. You may watch one round, but then it is off to bed."

. . .

The others cheered when you entered the room.

"Child, we thought you no longer loved us," Terzo yells dramatically.

"Where were you?" Questions Secondo.

"You, eh... look drowsy," Copia chimes in.

"Napping in the den," Primo says, taking a seat at the table. "They wanted to say hi before going to bed. Isn't that right, y/n?"

You nod. "I wanna watch for a bit though." You sit on the couch a few feet away from the table.

"Just watching?" Terzo whines. "Come on, the games are always more interesting when you join!"

Primo shoots him a glare. "No. They're going to bed after this round. Now who's shuffling the cards?"

You quickly lose focus once the game starts. They're oddly quiet; there's no yelling, no throwing of cards. Instead they talk quietly, calmly explaining their complete and utter rage when being handed a thrice-stacked draw four card. You're still sleepy, so you decide to lie down on the couch for a moment. Only for a moment; after all, the game would be ending soon, and Primo would be putting you to bed.

You curl up, using one of the couch pillows to rest your head on. You toss the blanket over your legs, watching the brothers play with half-lidded eyes. Over time, those eyes begin to close; before long, you're fast asleep.

. . .

Primo sighs. "I knew I should have taken them to bed."

"What?"

"Look."

The four men pause as your sleeping form is noticed.

"Poor thing," Copia mutters, "they must've had a rough day."

"They fell asleep to my album," gloats Primo. "They said they missed me."

"That is such bullshit. They probably had a playlist going and that's the song they were listening to," Terzo tells him.

"I went into their music library to pause the music. They were listening to my album."

The arguing is interrupted when a yawn is heard from your direction. "Whadya talkin' about?" You ask, words slurring from sleep. Your eyes open, and you sit up slightly.

"Don't worry baby, just go back to sleep," Copia says. "We're sorry to wake you."

"Wasn't sleeping," you rub your eyes, "Jus' bored."

"Alright," Primo stands. "That's enough. I should have tucked you in long ago. Come on, time for bed dolcezza."

You whine. "What about the game? Aren't you gonna finish?"

"We already did, long ago," Secondo chuckles. "You've been asleep this whole time."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"Alright, enough. Come on, kiddo. Bedtime." Primo hovers over you now, and helps you to your feet. You're wobbly, still sleepy, and press against him. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Ah, don't forget your blanket." He picks it up and hands it to you. "Okay, sleepy-time. Come on."

A chorus of "good night, sleep well!" can be heard from throughout the room. Unable to form a coherent thought, all you can think of to respond with is a soft-spoken "Night night." The room goes silent.

You hear Terzo giggle, followed by a loud smack, then; "ooow! What the Hell was that for?!"

Copia stands to bid you goodnight. "Pleasant dreams," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. "I would tell you to sleep well, but it already seems that you will." He winks at you. "Good night."

Primo acts as your support as the two of you walk down the hallway. When you yawn for the millionth time, he asks, "Kiddo, did you take something to make you this tired?"

You nod. "I had hives again, so I took three benedryl."

"Ah, now it makes sense."

. . .

"Comfy?" He asks, smirking at the way you're pressed up against him. You're curled up in his bed, half asleep with your head pressed into the crook of his arm. You've only been here a moment, but the drowsiness has already taken over.

"Mhm," you mumble, nuzzling further into him. A few moments later, you're asleep yet again.

"Sorry for keeping you up, kiddo. I would have put you to bed a lot earlier if I'd known." Your only response is light snoring. "Poor thing." He hadn't even been able to keep you awake long enough to make a trip to your bedroom for pajamas; he was thankful you'd dressed yourself in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that day. At least you weren't sleeping in jeans.

It hadn't taken him long to coax you onto the bed. You'd laid down first without him, waiting as he got dressed. When he'd returned a moment later, you were already on the verge of sleep, clutching his pillow and laying atop the covers.

Now he's got you cozied up to him, watching as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Night night, little one."

[whump-ghoul]

Ghost Whump Month #1: “Are you okay?”

Summary: in which Copia offloads his insecurities to some unlikely listeners. (Just a lil' character study)

WC: 1491

Tags: angst / insecurity / mentions of depression / google translate Italian

(Big thanks to @cirrus-ghoulette for this event, Whump is my thing! Shameless plug, but I do run a Whump writing prompts blog: @promptsforyourwhumpfic!)

The rats were squeaking at him; chirping their excited noises at the food bringer who appeared a little sad. Collectively, they emerged from their habitats, a trio having to untangle themselves from an afternoon nap in one of their hammocks. They padded to the now open cage door and into the expectant palms of the newly anointed Papa.

The rats cared not for his embellished title, and that’s what he adored about them the most. There were no stakes to his presence; no expectations other than respect and care, and no need to constantly be putting out fires as he was now expected to. The rats cared not for the fancy clothes he adorned, nor the time it took for him to perfect his ritual makeup. In this moment of quietness; when the ministry was to be asleep, they cared for the man who showed them endless kindness in his ministrations.

“Ah, good evening to you too.” Copia greeted, bringing the two that had settled in his palms to his pointed nose.

“I see you are doing well, how do you like the hammock, hm?”

In their appreciation, the black and white rats licked at his nose. He chuckled.

“I’m glad to hear it i miei ratti, I’m just glad someone appreciates what I do…” he checked to see that the door to the spare room was shut before allowing the rats to free-roam. Guilt tugged at his heart when he remembered he’d been neglecting their enrichment needs as of late, so despite how tired he felt, he was going to let them roam for as long as they wished - he trusted them to entertain themselves should he fall prey to sleep.

The spare room was small; traditionally used for storage but his unconventional upbringing saw him with few personal belongings, so he decided to dedicate it to his pets. His friends - companions. After all they owned him more than he owned them - not that he'd admit it of course. All he allowed himself was a small armchair near the window with a side table to watch over the rats as they played. The wooden floor had as many spare rugs as he could find so the rats wouldn't slip as they run, as well as a myriad of toys and tunnels for them to explore.

Satisfied that they were able to entertain themselves he settled in his chair; his bones aching for rest despite his racing mind and incessant pounding behind his eyes.

“How do you do it, hm?” He spoke aloud to the rats. The large brown female, Rosa, began to scale his leg, utilising the purposeful ladders and loose threads in the trousers to get to Copias lap. Right. He’d forgotten he was still in the clothes from the morning's wardrobe testing. He’d only just had time to mindlessly toss a hoodie over his head before heading off to complete more duties regarding the next leg of Rituals. When he looked down at the pocket Rosa was trying to bury herself in, he came to the realization that it wasn’t his jumper that he had picked up. No, the dramatically oversized hoodie most likely belonged to Aether.

Copia sighed in his exhaustion - it was yet another thing he would have to rectify, yet the comforting aura emanating from the fabric had him in no rush to return it.

“They’re going to think of me as a fool.” He spoke aloud, accent thick with tiredness. “That’s If they do not already think so. I have already messed up too much on this tour of Rituals; I am forgetful of lyrics and too anxious to make a mistake. To the Ghouls, their showmanship comes easily, but to me… I think Sister Imperator may have made a mistake.

How am I supposed to live up to a sacred bloodline? I work hard, that is true, but that mostly comes from the workload given to me; not the work I seek. I’ve always been scholarly, I know this, but there’s little else to do when the other children do not wish to be friends with you - when you do not even know your own family. I do envy you, my rats; your companionship and loyalty to one another. La tua famiglia. I am reminded of this with my Ghouls.

Ah. Well. I do not like calling them my ghouls. They may have been summoned for me, but I do not wish to lay claim to them. They are their own beings; their own family. They are quick witted and sure of themselves and their chemistry during Rituals is unmatched. I would not say that I am jealous but… well... I guess I am.”

Copia couldn’t help but feel tears of frustration come to his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t have the right to feel envious.

“I shouldn’t be, no, not when I do not work hard enough to be better. Nihil likes to remind me so; that despite everything I’ll never be them. I am so tired. Physically yes, but emotionally too. I need to rest, that is what my body tells me, but my mind forces me to move; to practice, to attend mass, to constantly strive to be better.”

He ground his palms into his eyes, barely dispersing the pain with his cool, shaking hands.

“Worst of all I cannot get rid of this headache; it pounds behind my eyes and I cannot seem to sleep. I can hardly eat as it is and I know what Sister is going to say. She’ll tell me I’m wasting away; that I am not strong enough; imposing enough to be Papa.”

He sighed, tears falling free despite himself.

“I snapped at the ghouls today, and I have felt awful since. They do not deserve it, they were only asking if I’m okay… I suppose I am not, but I need to be enough for them. A Papa needs to be strong. A leader. A Papa cannot be weak like me.

Am I not enough already?”

He felt a nibble at his finger, and found all six of his rats in his lap; looking up at him with beady, expectant eyes. Rosa lifted her nose from where she chewed lightly at his knuckles. The black and white twins had decided themselves in his hoodie pocket, their tail ends poking from one side as the white male groomed Rosa, and the black and gray (the latest additions Sister definitely knows about) nervously sniffed at his trousers. Copia was immediately brought back into the room, his pounding heart slowing slightly at the reminder of his reality rather than the hypotheticals his mind suggested.

“Ah, I’m sorry, mia bellas, I have been rambling again. Are you ready to return to your cage? I suppose I should be heading to bed soon… I must try to get rid of this headache… and I have to be up in good time to complete some paperwork for Sister before yet another day of engagements.” The thought of which made his stomach churn, and his head swim.

At the words, the rats instinctively began to scale back down his leg; the Papa extending it out to be more of a ramp for the elder-most ones. He stood, swayed a little on the spot, and shakily helped his friends back to the cage. Since it was bedtime, they knew better than to move from their platform as Copia collected some treats for them.

“Ah I am running low on these chips, I am sorry my friends.” He apologized sincerely, yet another admission of guilt. He wondered when the feelings of liability and anxiety would cease as he handed them the last few of the bag; the smaller, broken ones that often fell to the bottom. Rosa, the large rat from before hesitated, instead placing her paw on his fingers that offered the treat.

“I am fine, mio amico.” He insisted in a whisper as the sounds of five other snacking rats filled the silence. She stared for a moment, then looked towards the door to the room, her ears perked. Copia gently shook the hand she rested on. Still unconvinced, Rosa still took her treat and trotted off to bed. Copia watched her go as he shut, locked and double checked the fastenings of the cage door. He trusted the rats not to escape, he just didn’t trust anyone else not to get to them; not after the hushed rumors regarding his unusual pets that always found their way to him.

For a moment, he allowed his head to rest on the cool bars, relishing in the scent of sawdust and the fruit he had left in their bowl that morning. Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would reorganize their cage and refresh their food.

Rosa chirped, and he cracked open an eye.

“Yes, yes, I’m going.” He sighed, pushing away from the large cage and staggering towards the door. 

Sleep sounded ideal.