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dreadhaus-literature · 6 years

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{Story} Cold Comfort

What’s a mortician to do when the love of their life is just out of reach? A temporary replacement is just cold comfort for the time being. It can’t last, after all—

True love never dies.

Chapter One

A Dreadful Dalliance sits at the end of a long, forested road, the gate-keeper to a sprawling cemetery that will eventually be the resting place of every soul in New Senzannini. The Mortuary has been in operation for nearly a decade and has earned it’s sterling reputation as a thoughtful, caring place to bring your loved ones for their last rites and a compassionate send-off to the next stage of life. Owned and operated by Dot Dreadful, the Mortuary handles all post-mortem operations, from the preparation of the departed to the funeral arrangements, and though the morgue is fully staffed with plenty of attentive, devoted staff, there’s only one mortician on staff--Dot. Now that the owner of the Dalliance was growing too pregnant to be on her feet, or surrounded by the chemicals necessary to do her job, it left a gaping hole to be filled or New Senzannini’s only mortuary was going to be temporary closed. That wasn’t an option, and that left Dot Dreadful with only one alternative.

“You’re hiring a temp?” Felina Frenzy, known more intimately by her birth name Monica, glanced up at her best friend with a curious tilt of her head. “Do they even have temporary morticians?”

Dot Dreadful didn’t glance up from the stack of papers in her hand; there was so much involved in handing her business over while she was on maternity leave and she should have started preparing for this months ago. “Ah, yes and no. It’s something of an unspoken code that you help out a fellow mortician if they need it. We often consult with each other on difficult preparations or if one of us is handling a coroner’s report dealing with suspicious circumstances. That sort of thing.”

Monica nodded, turning back to the training manual in her lap. “Were you able to find someone to help you out?”

“The city coroner offered but he’s...” Dot paused in her reviewing, glancing up at the ceiling. “How do I put this diplomatically...he does as well as one would expect a coroner to do when dealing with living, breathing bodies after he spends all day with cold, dismembered corpses.”

Monica laughed, nodding. “Makes sense. So he wouldn’t be any good handling the people aspect of the job.”

“Definitely not.”

“I mean, you know I’m always fine to help you out,” Monica crossed one leg over the other, meeting Dot’s gaze over her desk. “But I don’t know why you think I’m going to be any better handling the people aspect of your job.”

“You’re better with people than you think, you just don’t like them.” Dot turned back to her lists. “I don’t like people either but I manage this job just fine. You’ll be a peach, you always are.”

“...But you’re not expecting me to do the hack and slash part of the job, right?” Monica ventured. She didn’t and wouldn’t tell Dot no, but it wasn’t like she had the technical training to prepare a corpse for burial.

Dot shook her head. “Not at all. I thought of a compromise. Since you offered to help where you could, I figured you could handle the managerial side of things, keep the staff running smoothly, sort of...just sit in this chair right here.” Dot patted the arm of her desk chair. “You’d be the boss, supervising the day to day operations, and I’d hire on a temporary mortician to solely be responsible for the more hands-on part of the job. You guys would tag-team it.”

Monica looked thoughtful before she nodded. It seemed a solid enough plan. “But the city coroner wasn’t interested in working that way?”

“Roger’s a decent guy, but he’s also been the city coroner for like, eighty years,” Dot exaggerated dryly. “He wants to work this alone, and I just don’t trust him to handle the entire process. I’m not going to ask you to try and deal with his gross man ego while you’re doing me a favor, holding this place down while I’m off.”

“I would have been fine, Dottie.” Monica closed the lid of the training binder, handing it back to Dot since the woman as still adding pages to the already thick instruction manual. “I’m not unused to men’s egos.”

“I know, love, it’s not about you not being able to handle it, but more why would I subject you to that when you’re doing me a favor? Especially since I was able to find a mortician who had no problem with staying below and just prepping the bodies for you.”

To Monica, that sounded reasonable enough and why wouldn’t it be? A Dreadful Dalliance has been Dot’s first baby, but now that she had actual babies on the way she needed help taking care of her “firstborn”. Monica had been friends with Dot for years, since before the Mortuary, so of course she’d been here through it’s conception and it’s construction, and it’s subsequent years of operation. How many hours had she spent with Dot in this office, working on her own projects? Being a novelist and illustrator afforded Monica plenty of freedom to set her own schedule and since her newest literary masterpiece was circulating and topping lists, she had some much earned downtime--granted one might not consider managing a mortuary as “downtime” but Monica knew the staff here was pretty much self-sufficient and short of just sitting in here and being present should any emergencies present themselves, it really wouldn’t be too taxing. Dot had spent the last couple weeks preparing that thick manual for Monica to have and she’d also insisted Monica call her if need be. Dot may be approaching the bed rest phase of her pregnancy but that didn’t mean her vocal chords didn’t work--Monica didn’t say this, but she was going to do whatever she needed to not have to call Dot. She wanted to do this, to help Dot out when she needed it, and with Dot taking care of the second part of her job with finding a temporary mortician, it all seemed to be falling into place without a hitch.

“When do they start?”

Dot reached over for her desk phone. “They already have, actually.” She pressed the intercom, connecting her to the morgue in the basement. “Can you come up to my office please, Glad?”

“Can do, Miss Dreadful!”

The chipper reply to Dot hadn’t been what Monica was expecting, especially coming up from the dark, cold recesses of the morgue. She actually blinked in surprise, but Dot just flashed her a smile and turned back to scribbling last minute notes in the margin of the list in her hand.

A scant few minutes later and there was a knock on Dot’s office door before the new hire let himself in and Monica got her first look at the partner she’d be working with over the next several weeks.

“Monica, this is Gladwyn Charles. Gladwyn, this is my closest friend and your new boss, Monica.”

The man Dot named was still in the process of ducking into the room when she made the introductions, his impressive height making the frame of the door a little bit of a hazard. He was wearing a floor length black latex apron but all that did was elongate his already tall frame even further; it stopped at his ankles, revealing polished black dress shoes that were a compliment to his black slacks and the white button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had on a bow-tie that was red rather than black, and that fiery crimson adornment drew Monica’s eyes further up to the same blaze of red that surrounded his head like a halo. Gladwyn Charles was a true redhead, his hair the color of blood, a stain of rose around his pale skin and he wore it long, braided and over his broad right shoulder. it nearly reached his waist, but it seemed even the braid couldn’t tame all the wavy strands, as curls sprang free to frame his square features, brushing the hollow of his freckled cheeks. Gladwyn had a dusting of freckles not unlike stars across the bridge of his nose and the crest of his cheeks, bringing Monica’s gaze to his long lashes and the deep, rich forest green of expressive bright eyes. His glasses were perched a little low on his nose; the frames were silver and square, fashionable and sleek, but Gladwyn’s smile didn’t speak of arrogance that came with wealth. The smile was big and bright, but as Monica continued to stare at him it only seemed to grow...bigger, brighter, reminding her of an animal baring it’s teeth. It was almost aggressive, his smile was so prominent, but nothing dangerous reflected back at her in those eyes--eyes that were riveted to her face. Gladwyn didn’t even turn when he closed the door, keeping his gaze on Monica as he pushed the door closed with one long-fingered hand.

“Ah, Miss Frenzy. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Gladwyn made a show of wiping his hand one final time on his slacks before offering it to Monica. “Miss Dreadful has told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.”

Monica stood to take Gladwyn’s offered hand. “M...Monica, please. And your name is...?”

“Gladwyn.” He laughed a little sheepishly, but still hadn’t taken his eyes off hers. “I know it’s a little unusual. You can call me Glad if you’d like. Or Charles, or Charlie. Even Smiley!”

From her desk, Dot’s eyebrow rose. “Smiley?”

“It’s a nickname from college.” Gladwyn answered Dot, eyes still on Monica as he kept hold of her petite hand. “Because I smile all the time.”

Monica would have ventured to bet it had more to do with Gladwyn’s smile being...hard to forget. It was almost painfully wide, as if he were the world’s nicest man. She gave Gladwyn’s hand a firmer shake, and though he released her hand...she felt the reluctance. She’d let his hand go several dozen seconds before he finally released her, but she tried to push that from her mind. Dot had warned her years ago that morticians were sometimes...odd. Like those who work in IT, only certain people want to play with the dead all day long; typically it’s those who don’t play well with the living. Gladwyn was probably just a little awkward from interacting with those who can’t interact back, day in and day out.

“Nice to meet you, Gladwyn.” Monica stressed his name, ensuring she said it right. Gladwyn’s eyes brightened.

“I assure you, Miss Frenzy, the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Monica, please.”

Gladwyn paused, his throat working before he spoke, inclining his head down in a show of respect and slight reverence. “...Monica.”

With Gladwyn much closer, Monica was able to discern even more from the tall mortician--like his tattoos. She could see at least four, though three of them were thick black bands on his left wrist, leading up to his elbow. When he finally turned to face Dot, Monica was petite enough to see there was a smiley face tattooed behind his right ear. Smiley really did seem to be a moniker that fit this unusual mortician. Gladwyn was tall and thin, but he wasn’t without some muscle mass. Now that he was closer, Monica could see his forearms and biceps laced with sinewy muscle, likely from lifting dead weight all day, and though his slacks left a little more to the imagination she assumed his entire frame was the same way., and she’d felt for herself how strong his hands were. Gladwyn was definitely not what came to mind when one thought of the word mortician; well, except for that smile. That was not a normal man’s smile, but Monica also couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong with it. Did he smile with too many teeth? Was it just too...eager? She shook her head slightly as if to clear it, moving to take her seat again--almost startled back into standing with Gladwyn extended his arm to help her into her seat before he took the chair next to her. When she looked up at him, intending to thank him, he smiled at her and her voice died in her throat. Eager was definitely a good word to describe Gladwyn’s smile.

Little did Monica know, but eager was a good word to describe Gladwyn Charles as a whole. The Dalliance’s newest hire initially comes across to others as unassuming, even if he was on the tall side with a head full of long, flaming curls. Gladwyn never minded that he had a tendency to blend in a little in the background; he’s perfectly fine with allowing someone else the spotlight because he’s a perfectly polite gentleman. Nice guys may finish last but Gladwyn would happily smile in the face of anyone quipping that at him with a, “True, but the tortoise always beat the hare, didn’t he?” before turning back to the task at hand. Gladwyn has gone through life with the intelligence to understand human nature, and the self-awareness to know he doesn’t always fit in. He’s aware he’s a little awkward but that awareness also allows him to fake it, to cover his tendency to make others uncomfortable with a self-deprecating joke or by being so polite others simply can’t be rude to him. If one were to ask Gladwyn he’s not sure why others are so put off by his smile; he thinks his smile looks just fine! After all, he practices in the mirror. His teeth are straight and white, and his eyes sparkle a little when he smiles--so what could possibly be wrong with him? Friends in the past have told him he just looks a little “creepy” or “crazy” when he smiles, to maybe try not smiling so widely...but if he’s happy, why shouldn’t he smile with all his teeth? For all his intelligence, Gladwyn can’t figure some aspects of human nature out, and that was one of them. Being too eager, too friendly, too clingy was perceived as a bad thing and he just didn’t understand that. That was why none of his friends ever stuck around for long. That was why none of his previous relationships ever worked out. Gladwyn simply cared too much. He was simply too eager.

Gladwyn slowly lowered himself into the chair across from Monica, eager green eyes devouring her in a way he knew he had to get under control, it wasn’t socially acceptable for him to stare this long but it was an enormous struggle. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful before in his entire life. Dot had told him a lot about Monica, he’d listened with his usual attentiveness but now, now he was calling upon his memory for every single detail from his previous conversations with his employer for the tiniest morsel he could glean about Monica. Even as his mind worked, his eyes did their job in committing everything he could about her to memory; her bone structure was impeccable, feather-light and delicate, and he ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips at the urge to pepper kisses along her jaw just to follow that tempting line to her throat. Monica sat like an empress in the high-backed chair, her posture so regal he felt the urge to shy away, to shrink back because he didn’t deserve to be so close to her...but how could he not be? Who could possibly stand to be away from such an ethereal creature? Was she even real? Gladwyn’s long fingers pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the focused lenses providing him with further admirings to commit to memory. Their eyes were the same color, green, but hers were brighter than his, a feminine compliment to his masculinity that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. Her hair was short, a bob that complimented her profile so devastatingly he had to slowly grip his fingers along the arm of his chair to stop from wanting to touch her hair. It shimmered, caught the office lights as if flirting with him, teasing him with how soft it must feel. And he knew how good she smelled; he caught the wisps of her perfume to the moment he’d stepped into the hallway outside the office and now that he was close enough to scent her effortlessly he focused on dragging the scent of her into his lungs, desperate to commit the scent to memory so he’d be able to recall it at will.

The simple act of meeting had never been so poignant to Gladwyn before in his entire life. How many hundreds of people had he met in his decades of life? None of them compared to this, none of them had ever affected him like this, like Monica. He knew her name was Felina to the public but she’d told him to call her Monica, the same name Dot was able to call her...that must mean something. To Gladwyn, it did. She’d shaken his hand, smiled at him and insisted, twice, that he call her by her birth name. A name intimate, known only to family and friends...that included him, now. How nice of her! How sweet...who would have thought a woman so beautiful, so stunning, would also be so kind?

“Gladwyn?”

The older mortician blinked behind his glasses, before turning to Dot. “Y-Yes? I’m...terribly sorry, I must have spaced out.”

Dot laughed, eyebrows raised. “You are wearing a face mask down there, right? Those are some pretty strong chemicals we work with.”

Gladwyn took the easy out with a gracious laugh, his rich tenor a compliment to that ever-present smile on his pale face. “Yes, of course, of course. A thousand pardons, what were you saying?”

“I was saying, Monica is the one I was telling you about, who will be sitting in my chair here while you’re working down in the morgue. She’ll be handling the operations, managing the rest of the staff and funeral arrangements. She’s got full authority and she knows how this place should run,” Dot looked between Monica and Gladwyn with a smile. “And love, Gladwyn has been familiarizing himself with the morgue downstairs over the past few days, shadowing me, and shouldn’t have any problems handling the hack and slash part of the job.”

Gladwyn cleared his throat slightly, his red brows pulling in at the center as a barb of jealousy seared across his chest. He’d known Dot for a couple weeks, knew her to use terms of endearment liberally and it had never bothered him before, but just now, her use of love directed at Monica rose like bile at the back of his throat. He didn’t particularly like that...and he didn’t particularly understand why.

Monica and Dot were both unaware of Gladwyn’s inner turmoil and confusion, mistaking his throat clearing and the shifting in his seat as mere fidgeting. Monica nodded, returning Dot’s smile before she turned it to Gladwyn.

“Shouldn’t be too much of a problem to keep this place running smoothly while Dot’s gone, right?”

“Hm?” Gladwyn locked gazes with Monica before that smile of his returned in full force. “Oh, I highly doubt it. You seem a very capable woman, Mis--er, Monica.”

Monica’s laughter was a touch nervous at the compliment, most especially coupled with the sincerity behind Gladwyn’s glasses. He held his smile while he held her gaze, and Monica had to resist the urge to blush under such open attention. He was certainly a...nice guy.

“I drew up manuals for both of you while I’m gone, and Gladwyn I told Monica to reach out to me if you guys run into any problems.” Dot tapped Monica’s manual on her desk; Gladwyn’s was down in the morgue and he’d already been making use of it. “The Staff has already been prepped to treat the two of you as co-owners while I’m gone, so you shouldn’t have any issues there either.”

“Seems you really have thought of everything, Miss Dreadful.” Gladwyn sat back in his seat; his gaze appeared to be on Dot...but he was watching Monica out of the corner of his eye.

“I highly doubt it,” Dot replied, resting her chin on her hand. “But, I trust Monica and with you here to help her, Glad, hopefully it won’t be too rocky for her.”

“You have my word, I’ll look out for her.” Gladwyn’s smile was once again aimed at Monica. “She’ll be in good hands.”

A nervous flutter of butterflies rushed up Monica’s ribcage and she had to look away; Gladwyn was clearly a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and the genuine show of emotion in his eyes, on his face, made her nervous. Who was so nice this early on? Was it possible for someone to just...be this kind? It had to be, because here he was, giving her a million-watt smile with promise written all over his face.

“Then I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

Monica took the reprieve where it was offered, looking up at Dot. “What’s that?”

Dot gave her a smile, looking between Monica and Gladwyn with her hands out in a gesture. “How about dinner?”

The Tower was a high-end restaurant with an established clientele, but there was nowhere New Senzannini’s literary elite and established death beautician couldn’t eat if they wanted to. There was no need for a reservation and the trio were ushered from the hostess podium to the best table in the restaurant, immediately; afforded their privacy but with attentive staff at the ready. Dot eased down into her cushioned seat with a sigh of relief to be off swollen ankles but it was something Monica missed, because Gladwyn was standing beside her chair with it pulled out for her, gesturing to it with that curious smile of his. She offered him a nervous but grateful smile in return as she slowly sat down, startled at how easily he settled her against the table. Even for the muscle she’d seen he was stronger than he looked, but Gladwyn would argue she weighed next to nothing at all. He had half a mind to order for her to ensure she was even eating enough; a thought that darkened his brow as he settled into his own chair to Monica’s left. Now that they were out of the Mortuary, Monica could see all of him as he was out of his apron and he filled out his tailored suit well. He’d also rebraided his hair before coming out and with his wealth of hair pulled back from his face in an elegant french braid, Monica had to admire Gladwyn. He was a handsome man. As if sensing her staring, he turned to face her, his smile catching the ambient lighting and she had a new appreciation for his bone structure, the way the shadows flirted with the hollows of his cheeks, the high cut of his brow.

“I’ve never eaten here. Have you?”

“A-Ah, a few times,” Monica nodded. “I’m...surprised you haven’t.”

“Why’s that?” Gladwyn’s head tilt reminded her of a puppy.

“You...well, don’t mind me saying so but you look like you come from money.” Monica was hopeful the low lighting of the intimate restaurant hid her blush well enough as she moved her napkin to her lap.

“Why would I mind such a sweet compliment?” Gladwyn’s voice was rich and warm as he regarded Monica. “I do, come from money, but I don’t get out much. Surely Miss Dreadful has explained we morticians don’t keep much living company?”

Monica couldn’t help the laugh. “I a-am her only friend.”

“Hey hey,” Dot snapped her cloth napkin before pointing between the two of them. “That is a thousand percent by choice. Other people are the worst.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Monica put her hands up, but as she moved to take the menu from their waiter, she was surprised to momentary silence when Gladwyn reached over, took her menu, and then handed it to her. “T-Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gladwyn’s tone was still warm, amiable, but he cut his eyes to the waiter as if daring the other male to say something. When the server cleared his throat and turned his attention to Dot, Gladwyn returned his gaze to Monica and his entire posture relaxed. His smile had never wavered.

The entire premise of dinner between the three had been Dot’s way of breaking the ice between her best friend and the new hire at the mortuary. She didn’t want to leave Monica with this new mortician for hours and hours a day, for weeks, perhaps months, without forming a sort of tentative relationship between the two, for Monica’s comfort level more than anything else. Part of why she’d hired Gladwyn was because he was such a nice guy. She’d called every colleague, boss, and even two of Gladwyn’s college professors to run him through the wringer to make sure he came out squeaky clean but every test Dot put him through, he passed. Everyone had something nice to say about Gladwyn, that he was an eager student, a polite co-worker, a diligent employee. He never called in sick, he never had any brushes with the law; hell, one of Gladwyn’s old employers stated he actually said, “Please,” and “I’m sorry,” to corpses if he mishandled them or when he needed to do something particularly invasive. Gladwyn was polite to a fault, and he was a certified nice guy. Granted, a couple people had mentioned his smile giving them the creeps, and Dot had to admit there was something a little off about it, but you can’t judge a guy by his smile, right? Besides, finding a mortician who wasn’t considered at least a little creepy was like finding a needle in a haystack. Dot had interviewed enough fish-eyed weirdos to know, Gladwyn was as good as she was going to get on such short notice. Judging by the swelling in her ankles just from the walk from the Mortuary to her truck and then into the restaurant, Dot was days away from being confined to bed--so as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.

Still, Dot lifted her water glass to her mouth as she looked between Monica and Gladwyn; they seemed to be hitting it off well. Gladwyn’s smile was a prominent thing, Dot noticed he really did smile all the time, but it seemed different when he looked at Monica. Dot noticed things like this, she paid attention, but it didn’t raise any alarm bells. He simply seemed to really enjoy Monica’s company and honestly who wouldn’t? Dot had been friends with the other woman for over a decade; she knew the kind of effect Monica had on others and even if Monica would deny it to her grave, Dot knew better. Gladwyn was proof enough; the man was hanging off her every word. Dinner would be the first step to solidifying a good relationship between the two, and as long as this went well, Dot would be confident in going on maternity leave knowing her best friend, and her place of business, were in good hands.

“So, I know plenty about you Gladwyn but Monica doesn’t,” Dot turned to the duo as the waiter took their drink orders to the bar. “Why don’t you tell her a little about yourself?”

Gladwyn would have opened a vein to get Monica to talk about herself, but he swallowed that graphic visual with that smile of his, moving his hands to his lap as he nodded a few times, his attention swiveling to Monica effortlessly. “Well, what about you like to know?”

Monica blinked a few times, unsure what to ask. She floundered a little before blurting out. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Corpse blue.”

Gladwyn dropped his reply like a body onto the table, so serious in his delivery that Monica was left staring at him, her eyebrows slowly creeping upward. “R-Really?”

“Oh, no!” Gladwyn shook his head with a rich laugh. “I’m sorry, no, that was a little mortician humor. It’s just blue, my favorite color is blue, it’s just, you know the corpses turn blue when they’re frozen. I thought I’d have a little fun with it.”

Dot rolled her eyes as she reached for a hot roll from the bread basket at the center of the table. “You know our type of jokes never go over well with anyone.” She gave him a pointed look as she tore open the steaming bread. “Especially when they’re that corny.”

Gladwyn’s laugh was sheepish but genuine, and Monica had to respect a guy who could laugh at himself.

Throwing him a bone, she joined in the laughter, nodding. “No, no, I get it! That was, that was clever.”

Gladwyn paused at the compliment, his posture straightening not unlike a flower given a little bit of sunlight. His eyes were riveted to watching Monica’s chest rise and fall with her laughter, his own pulse quickening as he swallowed around his attraction to her. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? No one ever really laughed at his jokes; he knew they were a little awkward and probably not in the best humor, but she called it clever. She thought he was clever. His pulse reflected just how much he liked that, basked in that knowledge, that such a beautiful woman found his wit to be...worthy of her beautiful laugh. It had sent him over the moon to walk into this restaurant with her; he saw the way heads turned, the whispers that the Felina Frenzy was here and though he felt that curious jealousy again, part of him using his impressive height to shield her from inquisitive, needy stares, there was also pride that he was there with her. That others recognized she was there with him. He really liked that thought.

“May I ask the lady’s favorite color?” Gladwyn took the opportunity to get to know Monica same as she was doing with him. He was eager to know her inside and out.

Monica gestured with a smile. “Blue, too.”

It may not be a monumental thing, sharing the same favorite color as someone else; there are only so many colors in the rainbow, after all--but Gladwyn felt that connection like a bolt of lightning. They...they shared a favorite thing? It brightened his smile, widened it until he felt his cheeks ache but he welcomed the sensation. It made him so happy!

“Excellent choice,” he complimented with a conspirator’s playful wink, trying to play it cool when inside, his heart was turning somersaults. Monica’s laughter was light but genuine and it was wreaking havoc on Gladwyn’s nerves, shredding him until he was rubbed raw, left vulnerable to the next tempting thing she was planning to do. He swallowed again, looking up gratefully as their drinks were brought to the table.

“That better be a virgin,” Monica eyed Dot’s Bloody Mary, and Dot gave her a playful look.

“Only thing about me that is, obviously,” she gestured to her generous bump before taking a sip of the blood red concoction.

“What did you get?” Monica turned to Gladwyn, trying to keep the conversation between them going. She knew without having to ask Dot that the reason they’d come to dinner was so she and Gladwyn could get better acquainted...it just helped he was easy to talk to.

“Ah, you’ve caught me, I’m afraid.” Gladwyn lifted his foaming glass with a sheepish grin. “It’s a Dry Stout. I’m Irish every day of the year, not only on St. Paddy’s.”

Monica eyed the glass; it was so dark she couldn’t see through it, and almost resembled coffee though she knew it to be an ale. She laughed a little at his joke, missing his grin brightening in response as she was still admiring his drink choice.

“What have you gotten?” Gladwyn took a swig of his drink, curious eyes on Monica’s beverage choice. It was peach-colored, bubbly, and served in a long-stemmed champagne glass.

“It’s a Gigi,” Monica supplied. “My family is originally from Italy so I’m pretty well-versed in expensive cocktails from Europe.”

Gladwyn’s laughter was honest and washed over Monica as he gave her his undivided attention; she could definitely respect that the man was genuine, there didn’t seem to be anything fake about him in the few hours she’s known him. It was laughter she joined in on, picking up her flute for a gentle, feminine sip.

Gladwyn watched her without blinking, committing her movement to memory with ease; she moved with the grace of a feline, her manicured nails a compliment to the expensive cocktail kissing her lips the way he longed to do--Gladwyn came from wealth and affluence, he knew what it was to be among the elite but Monica was simply on another level. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest to hear her family was of money, she carried herself like a queen and why shouldn’t she? Her throat worked as she swallowed and Gladwyn felt it like a punch to his gut; his muscles actually tightened, his abdomen turning flips as he struggled to get his attraction under control. Monica was doing something awful to him, stealing all his attention and he’d never once felt such a strong pull to another human being in his entire life. The more time he spent in her company, the less he was confused by what was happening. Love at first sight wasn’t an easy thing to dismiss, but it was an easy thing to pin.

“It’s probably rude to ask your age, Gladwyn, but I’m having a hard time pinning you,” Monica set her glass down, meeting Gladwyn’s gaze effortlessly--because he was already looking at her. “So can I ask?”

“You can ask whatever you like, my dear.” Gladwyn would have aged himself with such a formal saying, but at least the slight accent in his rich tenor made sense now that he’d given away his heritage (as if his hair and freckles hadn’t been enough indication) and that endearment certainly came out smoother than the ale in his hand. “But I’m thirty-seven years old.”

“You don’t look it,” Monica reassured, but that was only partially true. Gladwyn didn’t look to be near his forties, but he carried himself that way, and his smile had some age behind it. Likely, due to his ever-present smile, he also had smile lines near the corners of his mouth and around his eyes.

These lines deepened at her compliment and Gladwyn reached over, putting his surprisingly warm hand on her knee. “Thank you, Monica. That’s incredibly sweet of you to say.”

Monica’s gaze dropped to Gladwyn’s long fingers and she felt him squeeze her knee in response; he made no move to remove his hand and she didn’t...know if she should consider this forward of him or not. She was dressed in black slacks and a ruffle-sleeve button-up, having wanted to start looking the part of boss since she would be taking over for Dot but she could feel the heat of Gladwyn’s hand through the fabric of her pants. She would, for some reason, have assumed his hands would be cold as the corpses he worked on daily, but his hands more closely resembled the fire of his hair.

Gladwyn hadn’t even thought before he touched her--he just acted, closed the distance between them as if he had to do it. He cursed that she was wearing slacks and not a skirt, a dress, so anxious was he to feel her soft skin. He knew it was softer than a lily would be, and he knew she smelled sweeter, too. He slowly dragged his gaze up from his hand on her knee, up her front to lock gazes with her and he searched her face--not for signs of refusal but for acceptance. She had to feel what he felt, didn’t she? There was no way only one soulmate would be feeling the instant connection, the attraction that was driving him to complete distraction. There was no other way to describe what he was feeling but soulmate; everything about her clicked like a puzzle piece Gladwyn had been missing his entire life. She didn’t shy away from his smile, she shared the same favorite color as he did; she laughed at his jokes and she found him to be clever. He knew she thought he was nice because she allowed him to pull out her chair for her and she wasn’t pulling away from his touch, now. She had to be feeling what he was...perhaps she was simply shy? Well, of course she was, she was a proper lady. A right beautiful one. A woman who deserved to be wooed properly, courted in the way a man of Gladwyn’s upbringing could. His smile deepened, and he gave her knee another longing squeeze before he slowly, reluctantly removed it. He wouldn’t push his luck, now that he was more convinced she shared what he was feeling, that slow-burning but all-consuming fire that was licking at his heart like flames.

“Are we ready to order?”

The server started at the head of the table, or perhaps it was simply Dot being pregnant, but it allowed Gladwyn a moment to wrangle with his returning jealousy--because any moment, the man was going to turn to Monica and speak to her...and Gladwyn really hated that. He was staring, unseeing, at his own menu, his mind narrowing to how he was going to...deal with this. He’d never considered himself a jealous man before, had never felt such raw, biting emotion in all his life but then he hadn’t known his soulmate before today. Monica was beautiful, a siren’s call to any man and while he would never blame her for such beauty, no it was his good fortune she was breath-taking, he didn’t have to like others noticing her. His eyes slipped from his menu, moving discreetly to Monica and again, he felt his pulse spike, his throat run dry, and he fidgeted in his seat. If he needed proof, he had it; physical proof. His body reacted every single time he looked at her.

“And you, Miss?”

Monica shifted, her eyes on her menu. “I’ll have--”

“Would you order for me, Monica?”

Gladwyn interjected into the conversation without much forethought; he was only grateful what he’d said made sense. Monica seemed to flounder a little, and he could regret catching her off-guard...but she took her attention off the waiter and it reinforced he’d done the right thing. Gladwyn had to fight to keep his smile from going smug that he’d so easily gotten her attention back.

“O-Of...course, but I don’t really know you very well?” Monica faltered, looking worried. “What if...I order something you won’t like?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Gladwyn set his menu down on his plate with his smile lighting his eyes. “You have impeccable taste. You can’t steer me wrong if it’s good enough for you.”

Monica’s smile was still nervous, still unsure, but Gladwyn looked like he’d made up his mind and she could only nod, turning to order for herself...and for him.

It was a small compromise, Gladwyn still hated that she spoke to the waiter, loathed that the man was admiring her so openly, but at least he’d staked something of a claim on her in front of the other male. It made him feel better, sated his childish, unfounded jealousy--no, it wasn’t unfounded! He had a right to her, to the other half of his soul. That was how it worked. That was the reward for the way he felt about her; he felt so strongly, of course he wouldn’t want someone else looking at her, thinking about her. No one had the right to even dream of touching her, no one except him.

Dinner did what Dot had intended...and it did a little more than she’d intended, at the same time. The two hours passed by in the blink of an eye, the trio exchanging stories, learning about one another and as the time passed, the more Gladwyn became convinced of what he felt to be true. Monica was the other half of his soul, the fabled soulmate promised to hopeless romantics and skeptics alike. She was perfect; she was beautiful, hauntingly so, in that he knew she would be in his dreams tonight--if he was able to sleep from wanting her. She was witty, humorous, intelligent; she was clever and her sarcasm was so biting he nearly wished to be at the receiving end just to feel the scrape of her teeth. When Monica smiled she stole the light from the room; she was radiant, and Gladwyn felt himself drowning every time she turned that smile to him. Her voice was what silk was made of, sliding over his skin until twice he’d nearly dropped his fork against his plate when she said his name. It was...too soon, perhaps, to think of late nights with her body wrapped around his but he couldn’t stop himself from going there, from crossing that sordid line because she aroused him so fervently his appetite was of an entirely different sort. He’d finished two stouts in the hopes it would douse the fire building in his belly but all it did was warm him further, made his brain a little hazy so that the lines between right and wrong blurred further. He was seated beside an angel, his angel, and the expensive food turned sour in his mouth for want to sample her instead.

This must be what it felt like to be lovesick, to be so enamored with one’s adoration that food and drink lose their taste. Gladwyn seemed to have fallen down the rabbit hole with no hope to catch himself on the sides--would he have? If he were honest with himself, no, he wouldn’t have. He dove headfirst down this trap, chasing Monica’s laugh, her voice, the way she looked at him, smiled at him. The way she made him feel should be criminal, he was already so addicted to the man he was when she looked at him. The glasses were emptied, the bill was paid, and all too soon reality was severing his time with Monica and for a fleeting moment he panicked at the void that would be left when they went their separate ways for the night.

“Thank you, Gladwyn,” Monica stood with his help as he pulled her chair out for her, and his smile was a little subdued but still present as he held up her jacket, for her to slip into it.

“It’s cold outside,” he prompted, fighting to keep the hard edge from his voice when it seemed she was going to simply take it from him. He wanted her to wear it. He wouldn’t have her catching cold, and his smile broadened when she slipped her arms into it. “There we are. That’s better, hm?”

Monica’s smile was a touch shy as Gladwyn’s large hands rubbed up her arms, smoothing her jacket and warming her further beneath the expensive fabric. He placed his hand at the small of her back, giving his head a nod toward the door and he tailored his steps to match hers despite their staggering height difference.

“So, what do you two think?” Dot turned from the front door of the restaurant, the valet sprinting out into the snow to retrieve her truck. “Think you’ll be okay to work together for a while?”

Monica turned to look up at Gladwyn but he was already looking at her, and he gestured to Dot with a nod of his head. “Ladies first.”

“I-I, yes, I don’t see any problems.” Monica gave Dot a smile, knowing Dot would be looking for any signs that Monica wasn’t comfortable--this would be a question Dot would ask again when the two were alone in her truck.

“I’m delighted to hear that, as I can assure I’m very much looking forward to working with Monica.” Gladwyn tore his smile away from Monica when he felt Dot was still staring at him. “You’ll be fine to relax at home, Miss Dreadful. We’ll have no problems working together.”

Dot looked between Gladwyn and Monica, making a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat but she nodded, her smile reaching her eyes. “Good. Then you’ll be in charge of the morgue 7AM, Monday morning, Mr. Charles.”

Gladwyn gave Dot a nod, but his attention was already turning to Monica as Dot’s truck rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant. He moved his hand from the small of her back, already loathing the space between their bodies and knowing there’d be more, much more, over the weekend. It was all he could do to keep himself calm with the reassurance that he’d be working very closely with Monica on Monday.

“It was a pleasure getting to know you, Monica. I’m very much looking forward to continuing to get to know you during our time together.” Gladwyn bowed his spine, no hesitation as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I will see you soon. Take care of yourself until then.”

Monica’s fingers trembled as they settled on Gladwyn’s arm, and she felt his hand steady her waist in response. “H-Have a nice weekend, Gladwyn. I’ll see y-you Monday.”

“I look forward to it.” Gladwyn straightened up, replacing his hand in his pant’s pocket, watching Monica take hold of Dot’s arm, the two girls leaning on one another as the valet opened the door into the winter cold.

Without a word, he gave his keys to the valet but kept his gaze on Monica as she entered the truck, and as they drove off, he kept his gaze riveted to the vehicle disappearing in New Senzannini’s generous traffic. It wasn’t until Monica was out of sight that he was able to look away, the spell of her presence lifted enough for him to feel...completely and utterly alone. The smile dropped off his face fast enough to shatter on the marble floor beneath his dress shoes, and the valet nearly tripped coming back inside after retrieving Gladwyn’s car.

It would seem the only thing creepier than Gladwyn’s smile was when he didn’t smile, but for the first time in his life, he found he had no reason to, at the moment. The reason was currently driving further and further away from him, to live a life separate from him, where she didn’t have to think about him, didn’t have to see him, where he couldn’t see her, where he couldn’t touch her...

...for now.

Gladwyn pushed open the restaurant doors with one strong hand, ignoring the biting cold wind as he stalked toward his waiting car. Monday wasn’t too far away. Besides, the weekend gave him time to prepare, to make room in his life for a very special new someone. It had to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect.

Just like she was.

Stay tuned! ♥ Next Update: February 17th!

#{theme} : for monica #{story} : cold comfort #{character} : gladwyn charles

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jobone123 · 4 years

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YACHT JAYSON bets since the first day of I AM SOCIALISM blog ITS BEEN THE SAME REPEATED TOPICS you dead daughters THINK IS SOCIALISM

COVID1900 cant socialism BLACK MEN CANT PLEASE WOMEN did u see the accident little black girl how ugly she is YOU PEOPLE FUCKED UP bad

I bet because I wrote it ever since 1st blog SAME TOPIC your recycle# retarded family DEAD DAUGHTER SATELLITE follows Ex. I go to Atlanta come home tell a COVID STORY ABOUT PEACH STREET n Atlanta calls n says LAS VEGAS JUST FLEW IN 10,000 BLACK HAIR WHITE BABIES to get those houses you saw

I BET SINCE THE FIRST DAY OF BLOG HAS BEEN SAME TOPIC because I can hear THE SAME TOPIC I WROTE since 1st blog

BOYS THROW OUT YOUR PHONES blamed YACHT SOCIALISM ON BALL CASTRATION s

BLACK SAYS HEY WHITE LETS BALL EVERY BOY n mans world JUST YOUR WHITE WIFE N MY BLACK BALL n white says YOU GOT LIFE FUCKED UP

NETWORK IS NOT SOCIALISM I write a blog NOT TALK TO NEIGHBOR S because I never left YOU DEAD DAUGHTERS LIVE UNDER AIRPORT n wait on planes to kill

I bet since first blog same topic HAS LEAD TO treason NO NAMES DROPPING TALKING about Atlanta Ex. Because lack of ENERGY N BALL brain SURGEONS

1 black YACHT JAYSON s RECOVERY I can legally kill you all

YACHT JAYSON APOLOGIZES FOR TALKING ABOUT STATES N COVID sabotage but inside man is sat#/*?*blood 16 YEARS OF TOURING STILL CANT FIND INSIDE SAT n make an example out of sat SUNRISE IS AN ACCIDENT PLANTATION ACRES will burn another ACCIDENT fake tiny neighborhood 8 10 BEDROOM the size of super Walmart

You PEOPLE got covid SATELLITE SHINES CRIMES SCENE PICTURES IN MY EYES messed up with HOW DID HE KNOW

YACHT JAYSON life ended 1st drop of blood THEN THE #REPORT I called every time INDER BRAIN SURGERY BLEEDING not because what I saw outside BECAUSE I AM JOBS N SAW what your cant sarogate or sacrifice IRACK KIDS HOUSES useless waste FOR WHAT for who

100,000 post all #/*?*black because a dead daughters family BECAUSE YOU WHITES TURN BLACK HAD ANOTHER FAMILY black you dont do that to people LET ME SACRIFICE MY BLACK KIDS

IF YOU TELL GOLD GIRL IM NOT HER SON AGAIN I'm a cutt out every brown eyes on this base BECAUSE U DID ATTACK N KILL HER in my SUNRISE but it's over let's get back to why I was bleeding MY CLIMATE n cant COLD AIR is it because CHINA or WHITE HAIR BABIES or the dead brown pedifile family house fires FEAR SATS FEAR WAS RULED N CALLED AN ACCIDENT I think every kid born in island n Desserrt CAN BE RULED ACCIDENT

Are u from SUNRISE yes YOUR AN ACCIDENT I called it

Here we go again ITS NOT YACHT JAYSON u all wrote it to remind my brother ITS HIS BLOOD N CANT THINK that COVID1900 couldn't handle the truth I COULDN'T BE SOCIAL OR EXPERIENCE blog

I did find you PEOPLE making SOCIALISM target hits THAT OLD SONG LYRIC more importantly 100,000 pages post BLACK making black joke# s WAS THE ONLY REASON TO KILL but blacks making black jokes MAKEZ THE ONLY REASON TO KILL BLACKS you #racist loser cowards

I HAVE U FORT WAS ALL NEEDED as I saw n took black heroism away AS I MADE THE CALL shoot whites KICK IN BLACKS FACES because they love sarogate I WAS WRONG FORT IS NOT NEEDED BLACKS ARE NOT NEEDED I'm Sorry I was NEEDED#

30 days 247 I cant shut sat up about circling nucs AWAY FOR MONTHS I'm not here to give FREE trips to jerk off boys BECAUSE DAD COULD NEVER

So toad n Mic WANT TO SAROGATE BLACK INNOCENT BOYS well let's kick their FACES in BECAUSE YOU GOT RESPECT messed up N JUST SHOOT THE WHITES law n order

WHEN ITS NOT FREE YOU BUILT A FAMILY AROUND YACHT JAYSON GEM EYES n attacked any SUNRISE jason brown eyes FOR BODY TEMPERATURE why I was needed WHY I REVENGE why ima kill every black that loves sarogate BECAUSE ITS FOR MY WHITE FAMILY well pay the price then PUSSYS cutt out eyes

I knew exactly what cut out eyes was OUTSIDE REPORT 1 black SPECIFIC I'm bleeding broken ARM broken FOOT for you to make another family against me in any SUNRISE JASON brown eyes YOU GOT POWER FUCKED UP n I bleed for CHINA SNOW#

See u bitchez in court BRING THE LITTLE BLACK GIRLS ima need there eyes FOR SAROGATE since u dont CARE about her LET GOLDSONS CAMP OF BOYS N GIRLS RACIST jokes about HER n BLACKSON

HOW CAN WE TELL WHO WAS BORN BLACK?

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clown-bait · 7 years

Text

29 Neibolt ST (Monster Roommate AU) Chapter 9

Hi friends! Heres Chapter 9! Got inspired by that post awhile back about Africa by Toto being played in the sewer and Penny jamming to it. Leech is a huge music connoisseur so I head cannon that she plays a lot of Guitar Hero with Freddy. Also theres slapstick/horror comedy in this one! The story is going to get more and more comedic from here because of the characters that are soon to be involved. Bonus points if anyone can guess which monster(s) I plan on bringing in next!

Warnings: Fluff, Horror, Alcohol

chapter 9

Africa

Pennywise climbed the basement stairs of the Neibolt House in annoyance. Leech hadn't come to see him yet today and as much as he hated to admit it her visits had become the highlight of his day especially when she had the weekend off to spend all her time with him. he had noticed that the more he was around her the more her scent changed, it was something that initially drew him to her in the first place. Her scent started out faintly sweet, but ever since they became intimate it was becoming overwhelming to him. A human would probably describe the scent similar to that of a freshly baked cake or pie being shoved right up against your nose. When he first noticed it, he had caught her looking at him while they had been both been casually chatting doing their chore wheel tasks. Something about her smell changed when she smiled at him. It got worse that night she got drunk while watching movies with the gang. Leech was sitting next to him on the couch and that sweet smell drifted into his nose when she reached over him for the popcorn in his lap. It would get stronger and stronger as their interactions increased Pennywise noticing that he could draw it out of her by doing certain things like putting his hand on her shoulder, or giving her certain looks.

He tried desperately to cope with the strange new feelings, he stopped eating for a bit and avoided her as much as possible. When Dracula finally confronted him he was a confused mess and he was even more confused when the elder vampire helped him realize that this new feeling was lust. After Chucky found out about his terrible affliction the two had begun bugging him non stop about it. Their “helping” him ending up feeding his obsession and he eventually gave in, fully accepting that he had feelings for this nearly human girl. These awful feelings are even worse now having started this…..complicated thing. He found himself with a whole new mess of emotions that he had no idea what to do with other than bury them deep and hope she didn't notice.

When usually he found her Leech would be listening to music or messing with her phone in her room where he'd promptly scare her before flopping down onto her bed to annoy her further. Today however he could hear her shouting passionately at Freddy in the living room, a hobby that they both shared.

“Your ass is mine Kruger I spent an entire week perfecting this solo.”

“Sweet cheeks you weren't even born when this song came out”

The two were in front of the old tv violently playing with fake guitars in their pjs. Leatherface was behind them gleefully hitting a toy drum-set and Dracula sat amused on an old chair.

“Does anyone want to explain this to me?”

“I don't quite know what it is but they have been at this for at least 12 hours now” the vampire exclaimed motioning for the clown to join.

“Have they even slept?”

“I do not think they have, my young apprentice hasn't even fed or bathed yet. Her determination to crush my roommate at this strange musical game is quite admirable.”

“Speaking of, Drac need refreshments!” Freddy called over his shoulder as the song Free Bird headed into its big solo.

“You cant do that! I haven't had anything to eat all day!”

“You’re just mad because you're all alone in this battle. THERES NO ONE TO SAVE YOU LEECH GIVE UP” Freddy shredded on the rock band controller aggressively

“Bite my nearly undead ass Freddy”

“I’m sure the clown does that plenty for you already bitch.”

Pennywise cleared his throat.

“Oh hey Pen, you wanna be a peach and get me some fuel.” Leech said glancing over her shoulder.

“Do I look like your servant? You're perfectly capable of getting it yourself you're just too lazy to go out and practice apparently.”

“OH HE BURNED YOU GOOD BLOODSUCKER”

“There are more pressing matters at hand Penny, asses need to be kicked right now”

“More pressing matters than not starving to death?”

“I’ll live”

“Barely. You look half dead, go sleep”

“Sleep is for the weak” she said turning to him with an absolutely feral look on her face.

“You're taking a break” the clown said as he scooped her up before she could protest. He carried her off to the bathroom where he turned on the shower and pushed her in still wearing her clothes.

“PENNYWISE what the hell!”

“Get clean.”

“But?

“No you can kick Freddy’s ass later” he crossed his arms and watched her expectantly.

“Um….. are you gong to leave?”

“Need to make sure you listen dear. Come now out of those wet clothes.” he said with a lusty tone, shit eating grin now forming on his face. Leech rolled her eyes and shut the curtain causing the clown to groan in disappointment. He nearly began to leave when the curtain reopened he turned back around quickly. Leech was now holding her wet clothing in a nice little ball and a drop of drool left the clowns lips at the sight.

“Hey Penny~” she said with a seductive voice

“Y-yes?”

“Hang these out to dry douchebag” she chucked the ball at his head wet clothes landing smack on his face before the curtain shut again.

“you torture me.”

“Its my favorite hobby.”

Pennywise growled in annoyance and left to find some extra hangers. He knew he kept some somewhere in his clown room where he kept a collection of circus memorabilia. When he opened the door and was greeted with a puff of dust causing him to scrunch his nose in annoyance it'd been a while since he was up here “I’ve been slacking off” he thought aloud to himself as he rummaged for hangers. After finding what he was looking for he decided to try to tidy the place up a bit grabbing a mix tape he had acquired from some poor soul standing outside his ex girlfriends window with a boombox. The clown never really liked the songs on the tape at first but lately they've been growing on him due to….certain circumstances. A few cheesy love songs had gone by and he was halfway done, Pennywise felt himself getting carried away with the current song playing singing along while dusting off an antique mannequin. He removed the clown wig from its head glancing fondly at it now as it was reminding him of a certain almost-vampire a few doors down. The clown found himself serenading it as if it was actually her, picking it up and beginning to dance to the song Africa by Toto. Freddy walked by the door just in time and froze to watch the scene unfold before him in amusement. “My darling little Leech you know I have grown quite fond of you” the clown growled into the mannequins cheek. Freddy had to bite down on his hat to keep quiet. “Whats that? You've fallen for me as well?” The clown dipped the mannequin down kissing its chest as the song came to an end. Freddy gave him a round of applause wiping away fake tears doing everything he could not to explode in laughter. “That was beautiful Jingles.”

Pennywise dropped the mannequin. “H-how long were you s-standing there for?”

“How long have you been in love?”

“I’m not in love. I don't love.”

“You just admitted it to your doll there jackass.”

“WAIT HE FINALLY SAID IT ALOUD?” came Chucky’s voice from down the hall

“NO I DID NOT AND SHUT UP PLEASE”

“This is great, I'm going to tell Dracula he's going to flip out.” Freddy began running for the stairs

“I wish those kids actually killed me in the 80s.” Pennywise mumbled

Just then a scream of terror could be heard from the bathroom followed by a series of curses of the clowns name. “PENNYWISEEEE”

Freddy and Chucky both came back out to look at him.

“What? I'm not doing anything?”

The three monsters eyes grew wide.

“oh no…. I'm not doing anything….” The clown whispered

He bolted to the bathroom busting down the door “LEECH! What hap-” he slipped on a puddle of…. something and comically landed on his back. When he sat up she was covered in a weird black sludge that was shooting out of the shower head and bath tub faucet. The curtain had been yanked off and she was using it as a shield from the strange substance.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” yelled Chucky

“Also, nice butterfly tattoo under your boobs there Leech” Freddy added

“Its a moth!” Penny said from the floor.

“CAN WE FOCUS ON THE GOO PLEASE?? PEN MAKE IT FUCKING STOP”

“I told you I'm not doing it!”

Leech flopped out of the antique bathtub still clutching the curtains to herself and scrambling backwards into Pennywise as the tub began to overflow.

“AH Leech! You’re getting it all over me!” he yelled .

“PEN STRANGE BLACK GOO IS EXPLODING FROM OUR BATHTUB AND SHOWER HEAD. YOU LIVE IN THE SEWER! STAINS SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR SINK CLOWN” came a scream from downstairs flowed by frantic stomping up the stairs from both Leatherface and Drac

All the boys plus Leech were now staring at the massacre that was the upstairs bathroom.

“JINGLES MAKE IT STOP” screamed Chucky

“I CANT I’M NOT DOING IT”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIFF WILL DO TO ME IF SHE COMES HOME AND FINDS ALL HER BATHROOM SHIT COVERED IN BLACK SLUDGE. I. WILL. DIE.”

Leech reached a trembling claw up to her head and pulled out what looks like a piece of scalp with long hair still attached to it her eyes began to grow wide in horror.

“IS THIS HAIR? WHY IS THERE HAIR IN IT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT” Leech turned around and grabbed Pennywise ruffles.

“DO NOT LET IT GET ON ME THIS IS AN ANTIQUE OUTFIT” shrieked Dracula

Leatherface was hooting and crying. He Began smashing a hole in the wall in panic. Chucky did his best to calm him but ended up being thrown down the hall screaming out in pain.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR HOUSE CLOWN” Freddy was shouting.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND STOP BEING AFRAID I CANT FUCKING THINK WITH ALL THIS FEAR IN THE ROOM”

“YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT FOOD AT A TIME LIKE THIS??? WE ARE GOING TO DROWN IN BLACK GOO THAT HAS PIECES OF SCALP IN IT! I’M THE ONLY ONE HERE THAT CANT RESURRECT YET! IM GOING TO DIE PEN! IM GOING TO FUCKING DIE!” Leech started hyperventilating and twitching claws out now tearing at the fabric of Pennywise’s costume.

Everyone was frantically “trying” to do something to stop the sludge oozing out of the bathroom Freddy ran up to the shower with a towel in an attempt to plug it up, Dracula was backed up against the corner on the ceiling, Chucky was attempting to stand back up after being thrown like a rag doll and Leatherface was chucking anything he could at the bathroom (mostly hitting Freddy.)

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU” Pennywise roared rising to his feet, a door materialized behind the clown and he disappeared into it slamming it shut.

“YOU FUCKER! YOU CANT LEAVE ME PEN. DONT YOU DARE ABANDON ME. GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE IM NAKED AND AFRAID AND I FUCKING NEED YOU RIGHT NOW! PENNYWISE THE DANCING CLOWN GET YOUR PASTY RUFFLED BUTT BACK HERE AND STOP THIS BLACK SLUDGE.” Leech was pounding at the wall were the door had appeared still on the floor making big black hand prints on the wall.

Suddenly everything stopped. The boys and Leech all were frozen and panting in fear and confusion. The door reappeared and Pennywise walked out sludge splattered on his costume. “Did ANY ONE here think to turn the fucking water off? No? Just Pennywise? WOW imagine that! I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO FUCKING DIDNT FREAK OUT AND MAKE THE SITUATION WORSE!!! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT???? NOW EVERYONE GET OUT SO I CAN FUCKING FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT WITHOUT HAVING YOU SCREAMING BANSHEES TAINTING THE AIR WITH YOUR PANIC AND FEAR!” The usual yellow of the clown’s eyes were almost completely red. He was livid. Not only were his fangs and claws on full display he seemed to be even taller than before looming over everyone in the room. It was truly terrifying to behold. The gang went silent.

“C-can I at least p-put some clothes on?” Leech asked still covering herself with the shower curtain

“OUT.”

“Leaving!” she and everyone else scrambled for the door slamming it behind them.

-------------------------------------

Poor Penny he’s having a hard time. I totally head cannon that Pen is a secret plumbing expert since he lives in the sewers. Next chapter is going to have terrifying monster hate fucking so get hype for that friends!

#pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise x oc #pennywise x reader #it (2017)#it fanfiction #monster roommate au

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herbalzee · 7 years

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Get to know me tag!!!

Five Things You’ll Find In My Bag

1. headphones (always!) 2. at least 50 hair ties 3. a full bottle of perfume 4. free pens from like everywhere 5. lots of tissues lmao

Five Things In My Bedroom:

a fish tank! i love my lil fishies

shoe cabinet

a Moriarty (from Sherlock BBC) calendar of him saying “Miss me?”. I love it

a small yellow chair!

a color-coordinated bookshelf!!!

Five Things I’ve Always Wanted To Do In My Life:

learn sign language!

travel all over europe

write my own book

become a therapist

have kids!! and pets!!!

Five Things That Make Me Happy:

hanging with friends!!

listening to music, podcasts and ASMR

watching movies

doing artistic things?? idek what that means but like i love going to operas and theaters and taking aesthetic pictures and being creative, shit like that

talking, ranting, expressing my opinions comfortably, theorizing, brainstorming

Five Things On My To-Do List:

read books

hang with friends

write short stories- or write in general lmao

travel!!!

prepare for uni... i need to seriously do that

Five Things People May Not Know About Me:

i am passionate about psychology

i had an obsession with piercings and tattoos when i was younger

i had the yellow belt in karate when i was in practice

im very old school about silly things yet quite liberal about the serious stuff

im basically in love with malmo, sweden

Name?: zaina

Nicknames?: zee

Zodiac?: sagittarius

Sexual Orientation?: straight

Ethnicity?: middle eastern/ north african

Favorite Fruit?: mango!!!!

Favorite Season?: winter

Favorite Flower?: after a quick flower research, i found the soft pink spray roses and the blue hydrangea the most appealing to me

Favorite Scent?: vanilla! cocoa! banana-scented stuff (or generally fruit-scented stuff). old books!!!

Favorite Animal?: bees!! or just any domesticated animals honestly (that can be kept at homes or farms)

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate?: tea

Cat or dog?: dogs

Dream Trip?: a boat travelling all around western europe!!!

Number of Followers?: i dont really care about this stuff

What do I post about?: any posts containing message worth-spreading, funny content or aesthetically-pleasing stuff..

Do I get asks on a regular basis?: nope! so famous that i had to close my ask box

Favorite Band?: twentyone pilots, little mix, imagine dragons, coldplay, hey violet, abba (almost forgot them omg)

Aesthetic?: cinematography, animals and nature, books and libraries, literally anything vintage, multicultures, feminism and femininity. i cant think of other stuff but im majorly into art

Fictional Character I’d Date?: john bender from the breakfast club!!!!

Hogwarts House?: ravenclaw

Rules: BOLD the statements that are true for you!

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo

I have at least one piercing

I have blonde hair

I have brown eyes

I have short hair

My abs are at least somewhat defined

I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well

I can play an instrument

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping

I’m a fast runner

I can draw well

I have a good memory

I’m good at doing math in my head

I can hold my breath underwater for under a minute

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

I have learned a new song in the past week

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing

FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION

I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss

I have had alcohol

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting

I have been at an overnight event

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year

I have beaten a video game in one day

I have visited another country

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity

I have a crush on someone I know

I have been in at least 3 relationships

I have never been in a relationship

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

I get crushes easily

I have had a crush on someone for over a year

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”

I live close at my school

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the united states

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month

I have a smartphone

I have at least 15 CD’s

I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life

I speak at least 2 languages

I have made a new friend in the past year

Relationship status: single

Favorite color: purple, blue, green

Lipstick or Chapstick: lipstick!!

Last song I listened to: hard times by paramore

Last movie I watched: The Boss Baby

Top three TV shows:

(btw these three tv shows are the only shows ive ever watched and actually finished lmao)

BBC Sherlock

Clique

Yuri! on ice

Top three characters:

These are the ones that came to mind first, not top favorites

Sherlock (Sherlock BBC)

Todd Anderson (Dead poets society)

Savannah Karlsen (Girl, interrupted)

rules: copy/paste and replace my answers with yours and tag people :^)

a - age: 17  b - biggest fear: my actual biggest fear is too personal so im gonna say my second biggest fear: not achieving anything valuable in my life  c - current time: 3 am lmao  d - drink you last had: a peach detox lmao  e - every day starts with: checking phone f - favorite song: of all time or currently? ive never had an all time favorite but right now my favorite song is hard times by paramore (mainly the chorus bc its awesome)  g - ghosts, are they real: only the ones in our heads  h - hometown: a.d.  i - in love with: psychology  j - jealous of: productive people  k - killed someone: ...  l - last time you cried: literally yesterday.. m - middle name: dont have one  n - number of siblings: eins (one)  o - one wish: to be satisfied with who i am and what i have p - person you last called/texted: im talking to my friend on the phone right now as im doing this.. shes the one who so kindly guided me to these fun questions q - questions you’re always asked: “why are you so quiet?” “what major are you getting into and at which university?”  r - reasons to smile: youre very much well and alive!!

s - song last sang: i was having a fetus 1d songs marathon at like 2 am the other day so... definitely the entire up all night album

t - time you woke up: these days.. 12 pm, bc im tired and its my holiday  u - underwear color: ohhhh boi v - vacation destination: anywhere cold filled with warm people  w - worst habit: procrastination  x - x-rays you’ve had: the most recent one i remember is a chest x ray y - your favorite food: pasta  z - zodiac sign: sagittarius

post a screenshot of my lock screen, home screen, and last song played

RULES: Choose any three fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions. Then tag some friends.

I choose:

bbc sherlock

clique

yuri! on ice

The first character you loved:

ohhh, first was sherlock! then john almost 0.001 secs later

im pretty sure it was elizabeth. shes the cutest and i relate to her the most

probably Minako Okukawa, because shes so charming and funny

The character you never expected to love so much:

mrs hudson!!!!

louise!!! shes so smart and gorgeous and the least involved in the drama

yurio!!! i used to dislike him lmao but now hes my son

The character you relate to most:

molly hooper

like i said above, elizabeth!

ohh definitely yuri

The character you’d slap

john because sherlock suffered sooo much for him and opened his heart only to be abandoned because john is a naive idiot who still cant tell sherlock’s NOT a sociopath

SO MANY bc almost all of them did shitty things.. but the ones id slap right on sight are Alistair and the Steiner dude

ohmygod no, theyre all pure!! probably yurio bc that kid needs to love himself (but id immediately hug him right after)

Three favorite characters (these are in order of preference):

sherlock & john (one answer), mrs hudson, WIGGINS

holly, rachel, and fay (elizabeth and jude too)

the obvious trio: yuri, victor and yurio

A character you liked at first but not so much anymore:

mary lmao

alistair. i was a little suspicious of him but i liked him at the beginning bc he was cute and innocent. i HATE him now obviously

i love them all.. theres not a single one i dislike

A character you did not like at first, but they’ve grown on you:

ahahah mycroft

uh georgia

christopher and JJ (but now i love them both so much)

#about me

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