#but hes also one of my fav loser trans white guys

[jameslongforjimshortforgabriel]

personal fan of girlbosses who transition to become loser white guys. best flavor of person ever

[weirdo09]

what are your atsv hcs??? :D

YAY!!!! someone asked !!!!

hi ollie :]]]]

ok so the aranchkids r all datin each other (except for gwen n miles) like miles - pav margo n hobie hobie - pav miles margo n gayatri pav - gayatri miles n hobie i thought a bf for gwen he’s pretty cool 😎(miles n hobie have the tism while gwen pav n margo have adhd, they’re also all polyamorous)

i’mma do like individual hcs now :))

first gotta start w my boy, miles !

he’s transmasc genderfluid n bisexual(with a male preference)

pronouns r he/she/they(just like me ^^)

him n gwen r queerplatonic

he blasts selena every chance he gets(thank mama rio for that <3)

he’s catholic(not really a headcanon but not really canon either)

gets the munchies real bad, he cannot go anywhere without a couple of snacks

was definitely that kid that couldn’t have too sugar

ipad kid

mama’s boy(not really a headcanon but c’mon)

has wanted grills but his parents instantly dissed the idea

carries around all sorts of lip glosses n chapsticks, no chapped lips on his watch

talks in solely spanish when he’s angry or real excited

has freckles(it’s canon but whatevs)

next is my girlie, gwen !

she’s trans n bisexual(the trans part is basically canon but 🤷🏾‍♀️)

pronouns - she/they

she loves punk rock(what her n hobie bond over)

she plays the guitar but drums is more her choice

has the best fashion sense besides hobs n pav

is the certified weird girl of the group /aff

loves 2000’s fashion

her music taste is generically white

once thought she was lesbian until she saw miles

loves no doubt n bikini kill

had a puppy crush on miles

her n penni r besties (canon 2 me)

onto hobie 😎

he doesn’t care about labels

pronouns - any

possess a certain gender most want

looks so cool but once you getta know him he’s such a loser /aff

the troublemaker of the group

since he doesn’t believe in consistency, his style changes but it mostly returns back to punk

uses a bunch of british slang intentionally to confuse the others

is definitely one of those ‘kiss your homies goodnight’ kinda guy(so is miles but don’t feel like addin it)

when he’s overstimulated/goes nonverbal, he talks through his guitar or signs(all the gang know bsl n asl so it’s all good 👍🏾)

my all time fav, pav !!

he’s transmasc n pansexual

his pronouns - he/she/xe/they

has tons of energy

needs all 10 hours of beauty sleep

rants in hindi(i’m assuming that’s what language he speaks but someone correct me if it’s somethin different)

talks way too fast, hobs sometimes translates

has random urges to scream

the mom friend of the group(miles is too again too lazy to add)

sometimes he hangs on the ceiling, says it helps him think

finally, my girl margo !!!

she’s transfem n bisexual(with no particular preference)

pronouns - all

prefers virtual reality to humans

very awkward

had a hello kitty phase from ages 6 to 11(it comes back sometimes)

loves beyoncé n 90’s r&b

can hold her breath for a long period of time

has social anxiety

used to wear glasses but thought they were tacky so she switched to contacts

has worn puff puffs since she was 4, her signature look

[hellimagines]

Waterworks (Part Two) -- Henry Bowers

Masterlist

Request: “Yo can I get some more of henry bowers x hockstetter!reader? Waterworks was fucking good!!!! My fav henry fic by far!!”

Summary: You and the gang hang out at the quarry.

Warnings: Underage drug use and alcohol use, one mention of past suicidal tendencies  

Pairing: Henry Bowers x fem!Hockstetter!reader

Word Count: 2,277

A/N: lmao, I wish I knew how to keep to a writing schedule. Also, this is a continuation of Waterworks, but you don’t HAVE TO read that, to understand this

Part One

It was mid-summer, and you and the boys found yourselves lounging on top of the Quarry. You had convinced Belch to let you come along, but now you were slowly regretting it: Vic was high off his ass, Patrick was so drunk, you thought he was going to get alcohol poisoning any second now, Henry kept arguing with Patrick over minuscule things, which led to fist fights every twenty minutes or so, and Belch was the only sober one amongst the group of you, causing him to take on the Dad Role of the group. You, however, were pleasantly intoxicated, with weed and vodka coursing through your system. And as you laid on the dirt, staring up at the sky through your sunglasses, you couldn’t even feel your body growing increasingly hotter with the sun beating down on your leather jacket.

Vic was laying beside you, the two of you oddly quiet as you stared up at the sky. “You know,” he suddenly began, his voice soft, “things have changed so much the past few years.” You gave him a startled look and pulled down your sunglasses so you could better stare at him.

“How so? Everything seems the same to me.”

“Henry. Henry is different. He’s not as angry and violent as he used to be in middle school,” Vic hummed, allowing his eyes to slip close. His fingers were drumming an unknown beat on his stomach, the sound a nice distraction from the two other boys currently yelling at each other. “With his dad, ya know, he was so angry at the world. Hated everyone and everything. Remember that time he almost threw you down the stairs? But then Patrick punched him in the back of the neck? Things used to be like that all the time. But now, all he does is yell every once in a while, or tussle with ‘Trick. We’ve still got that… image, or whatever, at school, but Henry doesn’t beat up Tozier for simply walking in the same hallway as us anymore. I don’t know how I feel about it. And I don’t know why he’s changed,” Vic concluded, letting out a puff of air.

“He’s grown up. We all have. We’re gonna be seniors next year, and I think he’s realized that. He’s taken his role as the group leader and protector much more seriously. Picking fights constantly doesn’t protect us, it puts us at more risk. And I think he knows that now, after the juvey-scare. That’s probably what changed him. Being on his own for 72 hours; it was probably terrifying, even for Bullshit-Bowers. He’s never been on his own before, he’s always had one of us beside him. So being in solitary for three whole days, probably did a number on him. His dad doesn’t beat on him all that much either, now that Henry has grown up and become more… defined if you will-”

“You can just say hot.”

“Piss off, Criss, that’s not what I’m trying to say. He’s changed a lot about himself, just like the rest of us. Pat doesn’t spend his free-time in the junkyard anymore, and his room is actually clean… like all the time. He showers now and doesn’t wear the same shirt for three days in a row. Belch is on the football team and is proud of his jersey. He stands up for himself now and tells Henry to fuck off. And you… you’re more open. You don’t stand in the shadows of Henry anymore, and you don’t care what anyone has to say about you. Your wardrobe has gone farther than a white-tee and cargo pants. We’ve all grown up, and that’s not a bad thing.”

“What about you?” Vic questioned, turning his head to look at you.

“What about me?”

“How’ve you changed?”

You paused for a minute, returning your gaze to the sky, watching as grey clouds slowly started moving into your peripheral. “I… I don’t know. I’m not as happy as I used to be, I guess. But I’m not trying to kill myself every five minutes either, not like I used to. I don’t put up with Pat’s shit anymore, and I’ve grown closer with Henry. I’ve stopped obsessing over school, and I’ve allowed Pat to tell the wrong kind of guys to ‘fuck off’. So, I’m not sure how I’ve changed exactly. I guess I know more about the world now.”

“Yeah, I think that’s about right. Plus, you know how to get what you want now,” he chuckled, and you laughed with him.

“Hey! What’re you two laughing about?” Henry’s loud voice cut the two of you off, and you picked yourself up onto your elbows, to better look at him.

“Oh nothing,” you hummed, a grin spread across your face. Henry shoved Patrick off of him, and rolled to his feet, marching over to you and Vic.

“Bullshit,” he huffed, sitting down in front of your feet.

“Aw, is baby Bowers jealous?” Patrick laughed, joining the three of you on your other side. Belch groaned from his spot on top of the Trans Am, and walked over, sitting beside Vic. Now, the five of you were in a sort of makeshift-circle.

“What the hell would I be jealous of?” Henry scoffed, kicking out his foot so it knocked against your ankle.

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe the fact that my darling sister is hanging out with somebody that isn’t you?” Patrick grinned, leaning back on his elbows to copy your position. You rolled your eyes at the two of them, in an effort to contain your blush.

“Yeah, right. Like I care if she talks with anyone,” Henry glared, avoiding your gaze. “She can fuck whatever dick she wants, won’t make her any less of a bitch.”

“Oi! Watch it, Bowers!” Patrick yelled. You didn’t let Henry’s comment get to you, knowing that he was simply performing for the boys.

“Oh would you two quit it?” you huffed, tossing your head back. “You’re both unbelievable.”

“Apologize to my sister, Bowers,” Patrick grumbled, and Belch laughed.

“Since when do you care if someone’s a jerk too (Y/N)? You’re always a pissant to her,” Belch chuckled.

“Because, Reginald, only I’m allowed to hurt her,” Patrick growled, and took a strand of your hair, roughly tugging on it to make a point.

“Ow! That hurt you ass,” you cried, ripping your hair from his grasp and massaging your scalp. “I don’t need your protection with these losers, Pat,” you huffed, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“You little- of course, you do! If it wasn’t for me, you’d be roadkill by now,” Patrick defended, harshly kicking your calf.

“Would not! Belch loves me too much to run me over. You, on the other hand, would look perfect squashed against the asphalt.” Patrick rolled his eyes at your retort, growling when you elbowed him in the ribs.

“That’s it you fucking twerp,” he growled before lunging at you, tackling you to the ground. Vic yelped in surprise, quickly rolling out of the way of your fight, and practically falling on top of Belch in his haste.

“Get off me you lard! You’re gonna ruin my fucking jacket!” you yelled, desperately clawing at the sides of his face. Dirt was being kicked up from your struggle and settling in your eyes. Your sunglasses were skewed on your face, and you had to close your eyes to keep the dust out of them.

“Not a chance,” Patrick laughed, gripping your wrists with one hand to keep them still. He used his other hand to dig his fingers into your sides, grinning victoriously when your screeches of laughter filled the air.

“Dear God,” Belch grumbled, rubbing his face.

“P-P-Patrick! S-stop!” you laughed, thrashing your body around to try and throw him off. Your legs came up to kick at his back, but it was futile. His tickling increased, as did both of your laughs- one from pain, the other from victory. “I’m gonna kill you!” you cried, finally managing to get one of your wrists free from his grasp. You slammed your hand down onto his head, breathing heavily when he toppled off you with a shout.

“You whore! That fucking hurt!” Patrick yelled, rubbing the top of his head.

“That’s the point you cunt!” you shouted, holding onto your ribs as you tried to catch your breath.

“I ought to toss you off the cliff!” Both you and Patrick spoke at the same time, glaring at one another harshly.  

“Alright, alright! Chill out you two,” Henry grumbled, taking a swig of his warm beer. Belch nodded in agreement, loading weed into the bowl of his pipe. He wasn’t going to take a hit, but he always managed to pack it tight, so you all elected him the ‘Loader’ or ‘Roller’, depending on the day. Vic took the pipe from Belch, lighting it and taking two hits. You and Patrick were still bickering, so he passed it to Henry.

“Hey, dipshits, you want a hit or not?” Vic shouted over your bickering, grinning when the two of you quieted instantly. You both reached your hands out at the same time, waiting for the pipe from Henry.

“Hey, hand it over, Bowers,” Patrick glared, opening and closing his hand.

Henry rolled his hands and passed the pipe to you, watching as you grinned widely. “Thanks, Henry,” you hummed, lighting it and taking a few hits.

“Alright, pass it you twerp,” Patrick groaned. You passed him the pipe, allowing him to finish off the last two or three hits. With a satisfied hum, you closed your eyes and laid back, waiting for the high to come in a few minutes.

Over the next hour, you, Patrick, and Henry got significantly fucked up, with a mixture of vodka, beer, and weed. There was no more fighting, both boys more relaxed, and you too tired to start anything with your brother. You now had your head pillowed in Patrick’s lap, with Henry’s head resting on your hip. Patrick and Vic were babbling off Chemistry facts to one another, trying to see who was the smartest out of the two (you had your money on Patrick, naturally). Belch was intervening every so often, cooling down the argument when needed. You and Henry, on the other hand, were silent. You had your fingers carding through his cut, dirty blond hair, scratching at his scalp every so often, while Henry was tracing mindless shapes on the outside of your thigh, humming every so often when you scratched at a certain spot on his scalp.

The sun had set long ago, leaving the five of you basking under the moonlight. Your senses were in overdrive, and all your eyes could focus on, was the brightness of it. Occasionally, Patrick’s hand would lower to tug at your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to pull you from your thoughts.

“We should probably head home. Pop gets off at ten, and I’m pretty sure it’s nine or something,” Henry suddenly spoke up, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice shudder through your leg. Patrick groaned in disagreement, tossing his head back.

“C’mon, Bowers. Few more minutes,” he whined, leaning over your head to ruffle Henry’s hair. Both you and Henry yelled out in protest- you from being squished, and Henry from being disturbed.

“Piss off, Hockstetter -not you, (Y/N)-, we’re leaving. Now.” Henry’s tone held finality in it, and Patrick did nothing more than a grunt. He lifted his thighs, pushing you off of him, as he stood. The rest of you followed, heading towards Belch’s car. Vic sat up front, while you, Henry, and Patrick sat in the back, with you in the middle. Patrick had his arms around the headrest of Vic’s seat, leaning forward so they could continue their previous discussion. You leaned your body against Henry, kicking your feet onto Patrick’s lap.

“Thanks for driving us home, Belch. Next time I’ll DD, so you can drink,” you said, and Belch laughed.

“Yeah, right. Like I’d ever let a speed demon like you drive my car,” Belch chuckled and you scoffed in offense.

“Hey! I’m not that bad.”

“If you call going 50 in a 25 ‘not bad’, then sure, (Y/N/N). You’re not bad, you’re terrific,” Vic laughed loudly.

“Oh piss off,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Henry chuckled quietly from beside you, wrapping his arm around your neck in a mock-chokehold.

“I’d let you drive me around anytime,” Henry hummed, and you grinned.

“I’d rather ride you than drive you around. But hey, whatever works,” you grinned, laughing when Henry’s breath got caught in his throat.

“Oh, you two are disgusting!” Patrick yelled. You gave his calf a swift kick, ignoring his comment.

“Like you’re one to talk. The amount of times I’ve heard your bed banging against our wall? Ugh, gag me,” you said, making gagging motions with your fingers.

“Hey, it was for a good cause!” Patrick argued, wincing when the entire car broke out in laughter.

“Yeah? And what cause was that? Spreading STDs throughout Derry?” Belch laughed, pulling into Henry’s driveway.

“You’re all just jealous that you don’t get the amount of puss’ that I do.”

“Nobody, nobody, calls it ‘puss’, you nasty motherfucker,” you grimaced, pushing yourself off of Henry.

“Alright, I’ll catch you guys later,” Henry sighed, after noticing the lack of a cop car in his driveway. Henry leaned over, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead, before jumping out of the slim opening between the front seat and the door.

“You two are so gross.”

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world

Bowers Gang/IT Taglist (OPEN): @turtlebabeparadise