#bloodychuckles

[v4leriie]

『 ✰♪ 』 valerie's     high     heels     click     against     the     concrete     of     the     sidewalk,     the     moon     shining     up     above.     she's     been     afraid     to     be     out     at     night     like     this,     petrified     really.     but     dr.     moore     has     assured     her     that     avoiding     it     has     only     made     it     worse.     she's     young,     she     should     be     enjoying     the     night     life     of     the     town.     partying     &&     getting     into     mischief,     all     that     sort     of     stuff.     she's     feeling     quite     normal,     like     her     old     self     again     even. 

valerie     comes     to     a     stop     however     when     she     notices     a     tall     man     strolling     along     in     her     general     direction,     there's     something     vaguely     familiar     about     him.     it     clicks.     she'd     seen     him     shortly     before     her     encounter     with     that     clown.     she     recalls     even     thinking     to     herself     that     he     was     handsome,     a     fleeting     thought     that     would     soon     be     forgotten     as     fear     would     overwhelm     her.

this     is     a     small     town,     she     wonders     if     he's     heard     about     the     girl     who     had     a     "freak     out"     in     keene's.     the     very     notion     brings     back     that     feeling     of     embarrassment,     but     she     shakes     it     off.     she     can't     let     her     life     be     defined     by     one     bad     moment,     can     she?  

  ❝ good     evening ❞ she     greets     politely     as     he     comes     nearer,     flashing     him     a     bright     and     pretty     smile.     she     considers     just     letting     him     pass     by     but     instead     finds     herself     gently     grabbing     his     arm     to     stop     him.     ❝     sorry     i     um...i     hope     i'm     not     keeping     you     from     anything     important     &&     i     don't     know     if     you     even     recall     but     we     met     very     briefly     before.     i     never     got     your     name     but     mine     is     valerie.     ❞

starter for @bloodychuckles.

[v4leriie]

『 ✰♪ 』 mild     confusion     etches     itself     onto     her     face     as     she     looks     down     at     the     bag     of     caramel     popcorn     (     her     favorite     kind,     admittedly     )     and     the     pink     dog-shaped     balloon.     bending     at     the     waist     to     gingerly     pick     it     up,     she     can't     help     but     smile     at     the     balloon.     preferring     it     the     red     ones     she's     seen     here     &&     there.     the     note     though     friendly     enough     in     tone     makes     her     a     little     nervous     for     now     she     has     a     strong     inkling     of     who     her     gift     giver     is.

 valerie     looks     around     but     doesn't     see     anyone;     save     for     a     neighbor     walking     their     dog     &&     another     getting     into     their     car.     no     clowns.     even     still     ---     ❝     thank     you..? ❞ she     says     into     the     emptiness;     she     feels     a     little     silly     but     the     last     thing     she     wants     to     do     is     offend     this     creature     that     normally     seems     to     delight     in     frightening     her.     she'll     take     this...nice     version     any     day.

@bloodychuckles sent val some birthday love ! -> "on her doorstep was left a crumpled note in jagged handwritten charcoal, taped to a bag of sweetened caramel popcorn that had just a TINGE of river water scent unfortunately. A single pink dog shaped balloon placed next to the offering. When looked upon in the note was scribbled: 'fair day of birth Val-Pal. Hope you don't die this day and eat TASTY meals."

[v4leriie]

"  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “ : Pennywise in his flesh form 👀 (for funsies! he needs pointers frfr)

『 ✰♪ 』 ❝      ooh!     hmm...smash     for     sure,     he's     so     handsome     and     tall.     ❞     she     blushes,     grinning     &&     pressing     her     manicured     hands     to     her     cheeks     as     if     to     hide     the     darkening     pink     hue     that     blooms     there.     images     flashing     across     her     mind     that     would     probably     scandalize     a     good     portion     of     the     town-folk.     (     not     that     it     took     very     much     to     do     so     ) 

@bloodychuckles sent in this prompt [ x ]

[neibclt]

@bloodychuckles ; ❛ i’m not going anywhere. ❜ (IM NERVOUS HII)

it's a threat that has been looming in the back of his mind like a dark cloud, fogging up every inch of his brain and seeping into his every day mundane routine. that IT will always be there — watching, waiting for him. the thought keeps him nervous & jittery, always looking over his shoulder. even the comfort of his own home had turned into his own personal shawshank. trapped in the asbestos filled walls of their mid-century home with an overbearing mother and the threat of IT finding a way to torment him in the very hallways hardly made home feel comforting. it almost made his weekly walks down neibolt and up kansas street towards the center drug store feel like a furlough from his own personal hell. here on the corner of kansas and neibolt, he had some reprieve from his mother's incessant demands.

hands cling to the paper bag. the only sound to distract eddie is the bottle of pills for his mother rattling in the bag with each step he takes down neibolt. it's a weekday, so even the church is quiet without it's usual background noise of choir singing. eyes are focused on the street ahead and he feels his heart pounding against his ribcage the closer he gets to walking past the rundown house of 29 neibolt. keep walking, eddie, don't look to your left. don't look, don't look, don't look— and he does. like puppet on a string, his head turns as if being controlled by an invisible hand and he breaths a sigh of relief. shoulders drop as he reaches for the inhaler inside the fanny pack, eyes still glued to the decrepit home, scanning for anything. a leper. a clown. anything out of place.

the inhale of ' medicine ' hitting his lungs calms his labored breathing for a short moment. turning his attention back to the street ahead of him, the inhaler falls from shaky hands, hitting the pavement with an audible thump. standing mere feet from eddie was him — the clown. ❛ i’m not going anywhere. ❜ the threat is spoken through a singsong lilt, but the imitation at sounding soft and playful was all wrong. there was something raspy and wet beneath the surface, like the voice was echoing from the very sewers it inhabited. everything in him told him to run, to turn back up kansas street, back to the drugstore. maybe there mr. keene would be nice enough to let him use the store's phone to call his mother. but he remains rooted in place, wide-eyed, shaking, and breaths coming in quicker as the hand that dropped his inhaler clenches around nothing.

[darlingdummydolly]

: ) CLOWN CUDDLES.