#loser club x reader

[slut4megantheestallion]

I'm watching it chapters 1 and 2 right now, and now I'm in the mood to read Sum IT movie fanfics right now. Like I'm in the mood, is the IT Fandom still alive? Like, please, someone provide me IT fanfics on here like I need more.

[tryingtofindava]

˗ˏˋ𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛Back to Main Masterlist

“So I guess I’ll stay and wait, you don’t even know I’m waiting.”

Bill Denbrough

Stanley Uris.

Beverly Marsh

Richie Tozier

Eddie Kasprak

‧₊˚ MAIN ೃ⁀➷

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[lucycore]

Pov: If u were in the Bowers Gang or Losers Club

—

Tell me which one u'd pick and also if u wanna see a male version.

Bowers Gang:

Losers Club:

(Idk I got bored and did it. I'm definitely Bowers gang lol)

[bella-goths-wife]

How platonic yandere bowers gang view you

Warnings: smoking, violence, weird relationships, obsessive behaviour, yandere tendencies, reader is a bad person objectively

Henry:

Henry’s view of you varies on his mood

Sometimes he views you as something of an equal to him because of his narcissistic tendencies convincing him that the two of you are equally intelligent despite you clearly being the smarter one by a landslide

On the days where he sees you as an equal, he almost views you as his right hand woman

Your an extremely honest person, something that would usually put a target on your back with the bowers gang

But your honesty is another thing that appeals to Henry

You don’t sugarcoat your opinions about his actions and your too bored to lie and spare his feelings when he does something stupid

And while there are some days that Henry will become aggressive with you because of your honesty, most of the time Henry appreciates that you don’t fear him enough to hide your opinions

On the days where he views you as his right hand woman, you’ll replace Patrick for the day as Henry orders you to follow him around and basically just help him in his antics

Which you do, even if it’s at the harm of other people

You don’t particularly care either way, not in a psychopath way but more of a bored just by existing way

But it’s not like this for you all the time considering that your the only girl in the group and your much younger than them, there are some more unkind days

There are some days where because of your age and gender coupled with your inability to look after yourself properly, Henry will view you as the bottom of the food chain and you’ll be treated as such

You’ll get the vic treatment as your mocked constantly, unlike vic though you’ll actually respond back with snark or just fight back more in general

That usually just ends up with you getting some kind of unusual punishment

On the days where your the bottom of the food chain you’ll basically be treated as Henry’s personal assistant as you do his homework and cook and clean for him

You wonder why you even stick to this agreement sometimes but the protection that Henry and the others provide is worth it

Plus they’re less boring considering they’re unpredictable

Patrick:

Patrick views you as a challenge, something he can attempt to manipulate and break

And he gives it his best go

He’ll pull out all the stops in an attempt to get you to fall for one of his tricks or to cry at one of his cruel insults

But you just won’t

Your intelligence makes it almost impossible for you to fall for his manipulation

And sometimes you’ve tried to fake falling for it, but you just couldn’t because it was all so obvious to you

But that only spurs Patrick on

He’s a psychopath, he thrives on watching people act out emotionally to make up for the lack of his own emotions

But you don’t, you don’t show many emotions if he’s honest

Maybe he feels something similar to relation between you because of that

Maybe you could relate to him and why he does what he does

Maybe your like him?

He does treat you more affectionately then he does with anyone else as he’ll put his arm over your shoulders as you walk to platonically be affectionate and show the people around you that your protected

And he definitely views you as a challenge, but only his challenge

If anyone else did anything similar to what he does they’d be killed before the sun could rise to the sky

So in short your treated better than in the ballerina au but still treated pretty badly

Victor:

Victor views you as someone who’s finally below him on the food chain

For as long as he’s been part of the bowers gang, he’s always been the bottom of the food chain and the one whose given shitty jobs and constantly mocked

With you around, he’s free from that fate

He can finally experience what it’s like to have someone to look down on and to laugh at

But he’ll do all this in a sickly sweet way

He’ll condescend you and talk down to you like your stupid, like your IQ isn’t miles higher than his is

He’s the one who coined your nickname ‘smarty’

It started originally because he mockingly called you smarty pants to humiliate him but then he quickly took to just calling you ‘smarty’

Eventually the whole gang started calling you that to mock you but it just ended up becoming your default nickname

You didn’t particularly care about vic mocking you, in a way you sort of pitied him

Because he thought he was higher up in the food chain then he was, and it was slightly pathetic in your eyes

You felt bad for him so you allowed the mockery

But vic’s views on you clashed sometimes as sometimes he viewed you as some sort of naive little lamb considering you couldn’t really fight and you were a heavily picked on freshman girl

So he wanted to guide you, something you also allowed because you pitied him

You fulfil his need to be needed and you feed his ego in the meantime

He’d talk to you sweetly like you were a young child and explained obvious things to you like you were just a babe in the woods

But he also beat up anyone who tried to hurt you, so you allowed it for now

If he pushed his luck anymore though, you were sure you could figure a way out to separate him from the group or just manipulate him into doing something incriminating to get rid of him

Belch:

Belch views you almost a little sister figure

He was the first one to meet you and when you met you were nothing but nice to him, even if you delivered your kindness in your usual monotone manner

You were obviously smarter than him, but you never made him feel bad for it and you never shamed him for knowing less than you

You’d even help him in your spare time, you’ll try and encourage him to complete the work himself before you did it for him

Belch enjoyed spending time with you, he rarely got kindness in his life and even with your abrupt and blunt manner you were always nice to him

So he’d protect you from harm and would purposely seek you out at free times just because he wanted to spend time with you

He even got you some small games to play under the desk for when you got bored in class, which you did regularly because you already knew everything being taught

Belch also views you as someone he has to provide for

Belch is very well off, his family is quite wealthy in comparison to his friends

You on the other hand, were not

You were in the foster care system and living in a group home with twelve other kids and a shitty caretaker who barely registered if you were there or not

And belch always noticed how hungry were looked and how tired you always seemed

So he started inviting you back to his home since his dad worked all the time and he had a fridge full of food

You made a meal that night and you wolfed it down in record time, confirming belch’s theory that you weren’t being fed well at all

So you started going to his house a lot more, during one of these times you mentioned how you struggled to sleep since it’s so noisy where you were living

So belch started to offer for you to stay over in one of the spare bedrooms, which you agreed to after a bit of force from the rest of the gang

You practically moved in with belch after that, sleeping at his house most nights

His father had met you at this point and liked you enough to allow this so belch started insisting that you stay more and more until the spare bedroom become your unofficial bedroom

Belch then noticed the state of your clothes and how worn down they looked, and wordlessly he got approval from his father to spend some money on getting you new clothes

When he gave you them you couldn’t help but give him a small hug in thanks

Belch enjoyed providing for you, it felt nice to have someone for him to take care of

It made belch realise how lonely he was before you, and it made him thankful to have you

You practically living with him also made you more likely to accept the bowers gang manipulation and rules

People don’t give belch enough credit sometimes, he was a lot smarter then people thought

Not smarter then you though

[leighbaye]

— BEN’S BUNKER

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , losers club 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2300

summary. spending time the your bestest friends in the world, in ben’s surprise hideout for the losers club. a stronger bond flourishing inside!

labels. feminine reader, happy go lucky girl, shy cute girly girl reader, no definite description of reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is closer to richie toizer & eddie kaspbrak.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. hey everyone! i was rewatching it 2019 and me being the self indulgent person i am, i started fantasizing about us (readers) being with the losers! lots of love.

summer days in derry had a special kind of magic, one that was even stronger when you spent them with the losers club. today, ben had promised a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what he had in store. the air was thick with excitement as you all made your way through the woods, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

❝ are we there yet? ❞ richie’s voice rang out, filled with mock impatience. you were walking beside him, as usual, and his playful energy was contagious. you couldn’t help but smile.

❝ yeah, ben, how much further? ❞ eddie added, swatting away a mosquito with a grimace. you could tell eddie was getting antsy, but his curiosity kept him moving forward. you gave him a reassuring smile, hoping to ease his nerves. richie noticed and nudged you with his elbow, his grin wide.

❝ you know, eds, (y/n) here could probably carry you if you get too tired, ❞ richie teased, earning a light smack on the arm from eddie.

❝ shut up, richie, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. you laughed softly, loving the way they always managed to make you feel at ease, even when they were bickering.

finally, ben stopped in front of a large thicket, and your curiosity peaked. he pushed aside some branches, revealing a hidden entrance. ❝ here it is, ❞ your eyes widened as you stepped through the opening. inside was a large, cozy space, bigger than you’d expected. there were shelves full of books, soft blankets, and a huge hammock strung up in one corner, large enough for several people. the place felt like a secret clubhouse, one that was just for you and your friends.

❝ ben, this is amazing! ❞ you exclaimed, your voice filled with awe. you turned to look at him, and he blushed slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction.

❝ yeah, ben, this is awesome, ❞ mike added, already exploring the different corners of the hideout. ❝ you really outdid yourself. ❞

❝ i thought it would be nice to have a place just for us, ❞ ben said, his voice warm with affection. ❝ a place where we can hang out and just be ourselves. ❞

richie immediately made a beeline for the hammock, his eyes lighting up with excitement. ❝ dibs on the hammock! ❞ he shouted, flopping down onto it with a dramatic sigh of contentment. you laughed and followed him over, sitting down on the edge of the hammock.

❝ you’re such an ass, ❞ eddie grumbled, but he couldn’t resist joining you both. he climbed onto the hammock, settling in beside you with a huff. you found yourself sandwiched between richie and eddie, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock as they playfully jostled each other.

❝ careful, you’re gonna tip us over, ❞ you warned, your voice filled with laughter. richie just grinned at you, his arm draping casually around your shoulders.

❝ don’t worry, (y/n), i’ve got you, ❞ he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. on your other side, eddie was muttering under his breath about how richie was being annoying, but you could tell he was just as happy to be there.

as you lay there, the three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. richie and eddie kept up their usual banter, tossing playful insults back and forth while you relaxed between them. their voices became a soothing background noise, and you found your eyelids growing heavy as the hammock rocked gently beneath you.

❝ hey, richie, do you ever shut up? ❞ eddie grumbled, though there was no real bite to his words. he was more focused on making sure you were comfortable, adjusting a blanket around you with a careful hand.

❝ only when i’m asleep, eds, ❞ richie shot back, his grin widening as he caught your eye. ❝ and even then, i’m sure i’m the most entertaining sleeper around. ❞

❝ if you say so, ❞ eddie muttered, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as he looked at you. ❝ (y/n), how do you put up with him? ❞ with an exaggerated sigh.

you just smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship surrounding you like a protective shield. ❝ i guess i’m just lucky, ❞ you replied softly, your voice filled with contentment.

eventually, the steady rhythm of their voices and the gentle sway of the hammock lulled you into a peaceful nap. richie’s arm was still draped over your shoulders, and eddie’s presence beside you was a comforting anchor. as you drifted off to sleep, you felt completely safe, knowing that your best friends were right there with you.

when you woke up, the sun had shifted, casting a warm, golden light through the small windows of the hideout. you blinked sleepily, realizing that richie and eddie had fallen asleep too, their heads resting against yours. the hammock was still gently swaying, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the quiet peace of the moment.

after a while, you carefully extricated yourself from the hammock, trying not to wake richie and eddie. they both stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, so you quietly tiptoed away, leaving them to their nap. as you looked around the hideout, you noticed bill, stan, and mike sitting together on a pile of blankets, engrossed in their books.

❝ h-hey, (y/n), want to j-j-join us? ❞ bill asked, glancing up from his book with a welcoming smile. you nodded, making your way over to them. you sat down beside stan, who gave you a small, shy smile as he handed you one of the books from the shelf.

❝ thank you, stan, ❞ you said softly, returning his smile. he nodded, his eyes already back on his book.

you opened the book and quickly became absorbed in the story, losing yourself in the world of words. the four of you read in companionable silence, the only sounds being the rustle of pages turning and the occasional soft murmur as one of you reacted to something in the story.

after a while, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. looking up, you saw beverly smiling down at you. ❝ hey, (y/n), can i steal you for a bit? ❞ she asked, her voice warm.

❝ okay, ❞ you replied, closing your book and setting it aside. you stood up and followed bev over to where ben was working on some project with a hammer and nails.

❝ we could use some extra hands, ❞ bev said, handing you a hammer. ❝ ben’s been teaching me how to build stuff, and i thought you might want to join in. ❞

you smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for beverly’s thoughtfulness. ❝ i’d love to help, ❞ you said, taking the hammer and kneeling down beside ben.

❝ thanks, (y/n), ❞ ben said, giving you a grateful smile. ❝ we’re just reinforcing some of the shelves and adding a few more. it’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it. ❞

❝ definitely, ❞ you agreed, already feeling a sense of accomplishment as you began hammering nails into place. as you worked, bev chatted with you about all sorts of things—clothes, movies, and boys. it was nice to have some girl time, and you found yourself opening up to her in a way you hadn’t before.

❝ you know, (y/n), ❞ bev said, her voice turning a bit more serious, ❝ i’m really glad you’re part of the losers club. you bring something special to the group, and i just want you to know that you’re really important to all of us. ❞

you felt your cheeks flush with warmth at her words, and you looked down at the hammer in your hands, suddenly feeling a bit shy. ❝ thanks, beverly, you said softly. ❝ that means a lot. ❞

she smiled at you, her eyes filled with kindness. ❝ it’s true. don’t ever doubt it, okay? ❞

you nodded, feeling a swell of affection for your friend. as the two of you continued working, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the bond you shared with the losers club. they were more than just friends—they were family, and you knew that no matter what, you’d always have each other’s backs.

after finishing up with the shelves, you and bev stepped back to admire your work. ❝ not bad, ❞ ben said, clearly pleased with the results. ❝ this place is really coming together. ❞

❝ it really is, ❞ you agreed, feeling a sense of pride in what you’d accomplished. ❝ i’m glad i could help. ❞

❝ you did great, ❞ bev said, giving you a friendly nudge. ❝ now, how about we take a break? i think we’ve earned it. ❞

you nodded, feeling a bit tired but happy. as you made your way back to the main area of the hideout, you noticed that richie and eddie had finally woken up and were now bickering playfully as usual.

❝ hey, sleepyheads, ❞ you called out, giggling as you approached them. ❝ have a nice nap? ❞

❝ the best, ❞ richie replied with a wink, stretching his arms above his head. ❝ but we missed you, (y/n). it’s not the same without our favorite girl around. ❞

❝ yeah, we woke up and you were gone, ❞ eddie added, his voice mock-petulant. ❝ don’t do that again. ❞

you laughed, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a cozy blanket. ❝ don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. ❞

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. by the time the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the hideout, you felt completely at peace.

as you all gathered together in the hideout, huddled close on the blankets and bean bags, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. the losers club wasn’t just a group of friends—they were your home, your family, your safe haven in a world that could be so full of darkness.

and as you sat there, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d always stick by their side as much as they stuck to yours.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[seventiesweetheart]

ANY PATRICK HOCKSTETTER OR VANCE HOPPER FLUFF IMAGINE PLEASE

𓆩♱𓆪 ghost boy.

obsessed! patrick hockstetter x fem! childhood best friend! reader

WARNING. none much, this is purely fluff! but patrick is a teeny tiny bit of a yandere for reader.

A/N. haven’t written in while because of school but thank you so much for the 300 likes on my rafe fic! it warms my heart seeing people repost it sm <3 anyway, i know i’m really late but hope you like this, anon! might make a vance one soon :>

the summer sun beat down on derry, its warmth failing to melt the cool indifference that patrick hockstetter felt towards the world around him. leaning against the graffitied wall of the abandoned factory, he watched the town's inhabitants with a sneer. they were all predictable, annoying, and utterly boring.

all except for y/n.

a smile tugged at his lips as he saw the girl approaching, her hair catching the light of the sun in a way that made his heart stutter. every one else perceived patrick as a mystery, just another one of henry’s best friends which fully meant he was not one to be messed with. but to y/n, he was her best friend since childhood.

"hey, patrick!" she called, her voice bright and cheerful, piercing through the monotonous hum of the town. she jogged up to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you won't believe what i found today."

he watched her intently, his gaze suddenly softening. "what is it?" he asked, his voice low and only slightly gruff.

y/n pulled out an old, worn book from her (fav color) backpack. "look at this! i found it in the library. it's full of so many creepy stories about derry. thought you might like it."

patrick took the book from her, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. he felt a jolt of electricity at the contact, but the girl was too oblivious, her attention already shifting to something else.

"thanks," he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. she was always doing things like this—thinking of him, bringing him things she knew he'd appreciate. it was part of why he liked her so much, part of why his feelings for her had morphed into something deeper, something a bit more obsessive.

y/n plopped down on the ground beside him, leaning back on her hands and tilting her face towards the sky. "it's such a nice day. why don’t we do something fun?”

patrick sat down next to her, the book clutched in his hands. he could feel the warmth radiating from her, the smell of her shampoo filling the air. "like what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he caught a whiff of her scent.

she shrugged, her smile widening. "i don't know. maybe we can explore that old house on neibolt street? i’ve heard it's haunted."

patrick's lips curved into the mischievous smirk that y/n has grown all too familiar with. "sounds like a plan," he said, loving the thrill that danced in her eyes. he'd follow her anywhere, even into the deepest parts of a haunted house. anything to keep her close—to keep her as his.

as they stood up and started walking, patrick's mind comtinued to race with thoughts of her. y/n was the only person in this town who made him feel something other than disdain. she was the light in his otherwise dark world, the only person he could never afford to lose. and though she had no idea, he was determined to keep it that way—at least, for now.

because as long as she didn't know about his little crush, she wouldn't be scared away. and patrick couldn't bear the thought of losing her, his only friend and the only person who made his life in derry so much more bearable.

[nicohockstetter]

Bro please, I can't be the only one who sees this image and thinks they are doing something obscene 😭

[maxiscoolongg]

"NEVER FUCKING TOUCH HIM."

—{★}—

PATRICK HOCKSETTER X FEM!LATNIA READER X HENRY BOWERS

WARNINGS: kinda yandere?, I'm not Latina or anything so I will be using Google translate for some stuff!, angry scared reader, swearing, Patrick being patrick, mention of murder?,

Summary: Y/N found a haunted house that she thought would be fun with her two lovers but only to be even more scared then ever

—{}—

You were the complete opposite of the two boys you so very loved for. You, a sweet, caring, loving, beautiful, angelic, person. Was with Henry Bowers and Patrick Hocksetter? It was a weird mix that's for sure, maybe Patrick and Henry weren't, but you + them? Shook the whole school

You are the popular girl, the one who is on the cheer team and everyone is probably jealous of. Your little brother Richie Tozier? He never told you about the bullying he got from Bowers gang, mostly from Henry and Patrick, they practically threatened him and the losers club to shut their mouths and not tell you

Richie, is and still is protective. No kiddin' though, he's been through alot still being a 13 year old? This kid is tough. You looked up to him even though he was younger, he was your little brother and still very much you loved him. If you found out what's been happening to him and his little club? You would kill the bullies yourself!

—{★}—

You were looking at your mirror in your locker fixing every detail possible, the boys who stood behind you leaning on the other lockers were confused, you were perfect! How could you possibly need to fix anything? Any detail they thought it was beautiful. It never made sense to them.

You smiled looking at yourself happily as you turned around closing your locker and locking it before looking up at the two boys with a smile. "Okay, so I was thinking-" you said before getting cut off immediately "No." Henry said as you frowned as you three walked "I didn't even finsh the damn sentence!" You said with a slight pout as he smiled a bit "anyway! I was thinking of going to a haunted house this week! You know? It'll be fun" you said shrugging with a now smile bright as ever, not noticing the grin that perked on Patrick's face as he looked at Henry with a 'Please' type of look.

Henry could easily say 'No, that's to childish' but, both if them could see the way you would look scared. It would practically send them off a rampage of.. well, you know. So they both agreed in their own way "Sure, but you owe us, dollface" patrick said as he put his arm around your shoulder you made a confused face but shook that off.

—{★}—

To say this was what they expected was completely right. They saw the way your eyes flashed in anger and sacredness as a clown jump scare popped up normally screaming; Santo hijo de puta. They both saw it and it to say the least turned them on in a way,

Seeing you scared and clinging on Patrick's arm? Fucking hell he would go crazy, definitely grinning from ear to ear. Not in a sweat way btw. Hug Henry on accident? He will absolutely smirk a little as he would mock you a bit

Your fear of (__) would fucking go crazy if it was in there, your scared of clowns? Watch your back bb, there's gonna scare the living shit outta you

—{★}—

"Santo hijo de puta!" You yelled in fear as you jumped a bit from the jumpscare infront of you as you turned a corner them following you "What? You scared" patrick asked as I frowned "Take a guess" you said as patrick put his arms around your waist "It ain't that scary just a little jumpscare!" He said as you sighed

—{★}—

—{I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD}—{MY FRIEND REQUESTED THIS SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKS<3}{wattpad: tatesslvtxo}

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

1984 Derry, Maine

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

masterpost☁️

Would you like to help a struggling uni student? Support me here-> PayPal link ❤️

You can always ask to be tagged :)

Tags; @satubby @sketchist-art @urdeftonesgrrrl

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝟎'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mention of one slur, (that is reclaimable don't come for me twitter), homophobia, death, etc

↳ song: american pie—don mclean

masterlist!

• Compared to the old giants that were London and Rome, Derry was an infant in terms of age

• But it didn't feel that way. The whole town had this sort of tint to it, like the stain of coffee on white paper—or the quality of an old polaroid that had been stuffed away and forgotten

• You had lived there most of your life. Gone to Derry Elementary, Derry Middle, would go on to attend Derry High, and would probably travel on to the closest college you could find to the area—unless something drastically changed that, of course

• It was almost like the whole place had a grip on its residents. And it wasn't like the comforting grip of your mother's hand as she led you through the grocery store. It was a harsher one. A cold and clamy grip, holding you tightly in place until you rotted away working a minimum wage job with no future in sight

• So thank god you had stumbled across the losers in your last year of middle school and changed just about everything

• It had been the last week of school when you had stupidly picked a fight with the biggest knothead in school and his gang of pimple faced idiots, figuring that if you were going to die anyway, might as well do it young

• Your school books had gone sprawling across the freshly waxed school hallway one fateful afternoon in May, the disaster courtesy of Derrys biggest doucuebag Henry Bowers

• In fact, you had told him he was such a thing to his face, which would be the reason you were currently being subjected to the pleasure of watching as Henry and his goons ripped up all of your school papers in front of everyone

• Math homework, eat your heart out

• You didn't, however, expect a stuttering voice to speak up from your left not long after watching the science paper you had worked so hard on get ripped to shreds

• "Guh-guh-guh-get fu-fucked Bowers!" A lanky kid spat out from your left, drawing most people's attention over to his blazing brown eyes instead of Henry's ugly mud colored ones

• You recognized your knight in shining armor, so to speak, as the infamous stuttering Bill Denbrough. He wasn't an unfamiliar face to you—in fact, you were pretty sure the two of you had homeroom together. But until that moment you'd never given him a second thought beyond asking to borrow a pencil

• Bill wasn't alone, either. Three more kids stood idly behind him, each one looking more anxious than the last. You'd later learn all their names to be Stan, Eddie, and Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier—the man of a hundered voices as he'd introduce himself. But right then, they were just more people to add to this already overcrowded shitshow

• "Muh-my buh-buh-bad Billy." Henry mocked Bill's stutter poorly, crossing his eyes crudely while he did it. "Duh-did I mess with one of yuh-your fag fruh-fruh-fruh-friends?"

• The shrill chorus of giggles that his friends let out at his words were like nails on a chalkboard to you

• "Takes one to know one." Richie had mummbled under his breath sourly, pushing the thick glasses he wore up his nose anxiously. The only people who heard him couldn't help but break up into a fit of sudden giggles—who of which just so happened to be you and Bill

• Both of you were found sporting black eyes the next day

• Ever since that odd school day, you had found yourself spending more and more time with each of them

• Riding bikes with Bill in his street as you got left in the dust by him and Silver, listening as Eddie rambled on nervously about all of the weird sicknesses he had gotten, furiously smashing buttons on arcade games in an attempt to beat Richie at least once, helping Stan organize all of his comics by color and alphabetical order—all became a part of your summer routine

• You quickly became a part of the losers club. Another peice to the odd puzzle you all made together. And you'd be lying if you didn't say it felt damn good

• It was only after Ben and the others showed up that things began to get both better and worse

• For starters, you had begun to see red balloons and dead kids everywhere—a detail that would later become a much bigger issue

• But you also found yourself making three entire new friends, which including Stan, Eddie, Richie and Bill, was the most you'd ever had

• Hot summer evenings down in the barrens and, eventually, the clubhouse now had a new sense of comradery to it

• You enjoyed talking with Beverly about certain book series the both of you kept up with and what songs she could play on the piano. Asking Mike about all the adventures he had gone on after hard days of farm work became a highlight of your Saturdays. Pouring over books in the library with Ben quickly became one of your favorite activities, the two of you sharing recommendations with each other. Even the librarian eventually got old of the two of you whispering excitedly to each other about story lines and character development

• Occasionally Bill or Richie would bring another kid down to the barrens to play with. It would be fun, but you all were thinking the same thing throught it all—that they were not a part of the club. That title was reserved for only the eight of you. And it would stay that way

• Together, all of you would eventually have to beat a common enemy together, sacrificing parts of yourself with it. But for now, you were content to watch as sticky syrup from popsicle sticks dripped down into your hands while you all walked to the movies, laughing about god knows what, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered but each other

[bella-goths-wife]

HERE ME OUTTT…

Platonic yandere bowers gang.

The reader is a freshman, shes just a clueless 14 year old who needs someone to guide her, why not that be the bowers gang?

Platonic yandere bowers gang x freshman reader

You weren’t particularly bad kid

Sure, you mouthed off to teachers and smoked behind the bleachers on rough days

But you also kept up with your studies and got pretty good grades

So you weren’t a bad kid, certainly not bad enough to avoid snide comments or harassment

Certainly not bad enough to catch the eyes of anyone important, or at least you thought anyway

You had met belch first

After a particularly cruel day caused by your classmates constant teasing and bullying, you had decided to hide out behind the bleachers for a quick smoke and to reevaluate your life choices

But instead of the usual quietness, you heard frustrated mumblings and the sounds of crunched up papers

You peaked your head around and saw an extremely frustrated belch sat on the ground with papers scrunched up in his hands as he attempted to solve whatever was on the paper

You had planned to just turn around and pretend you saw nothing, but fate had another plan for you as belch coincidentally looked to his left and made eye contact with you

Belch stiffened and began to plan out how to best beat you into forgetting what you saw, but before he could even rise up from the ground you spoke

“Do you want some help?” You had asked quite calmly considering the situation, and belch had noticed there was not one smidge of mockery or pity in your tone

He would have almost called your tone kind if it weren’t for your monotone delivery

Belch was stunned into a paralysed state as you calmly sat yourself next to him and read over the math problems he had been attempting

Half an hour later you had helped him complete the sheet, practically finishing it all by yourself at that point

Belch was about to threaten you into silence but you just stood up and walked away, not intimidated by him in the slightest

You, a lowly freshman, was not intimidated by him, one of the biggest and scariest people in school

Belch was so taken aback that he immediately reported his findings to Henry, who let a plot grow in his head

While the bowers gang had a few very intelligent members, they were all failing extraordinarily

All of their grades were written with a ‘do better’ message and delivered with a sigh from their teachers

So an idea popped into Henry’s head

Why should they do all of their work when they can just get someone else to do it for them

And now he knows about this genius freshman from belch, well it was almost fate in Henry’s eyes

He rounded up the boys and stalked you throughout your day at school to find a chance to corner you

They watched as you sat through your first lessons with a bored expression and they also watched as you completed the class work in less than ten minutes before just staring out the window for the rest of the time

They watched as you got relentlessly picked on by your peers and they watched as you finally grew tired enough of it to get up and leave the classroom, deciding to just skip considering you already knew what was being taught

They couldn’t help but he slightly fascinated with how you carried yourself

You were a genius, that was very much clear

But you almost seemed like you were reluctant with your intelligence, like the mere fact that you existed bored and exhausted you

Henry in his own brand of narcissism, couldn’t help but think he was the same

He was not, he was intelligent but he could never fully match up to you

But he projected the idea that you were exactly like him, that you two were two peas in a pod

Two geniuses surrounded by idiots

He finally thought he had found an equal

It was then that he decided that instead of just intimidating you into doing what they wanted, he’d make you a deal

And that’s what he did as he and his boys cornered you behind the bleachers

He made you an offer, you complete all their work and get them good grades and they’d allow you to sit with them at lunch and would keep your tormentors away

You were reluctant to accept this offer considering you understood that the boys in front of you were not good people and it was likely you wouldn’t be treated well during this agreement but you were just so tired of being picked on that you agreed anyway

So the deal was made and from that day forward you’d sit with them at lunch and would complete their work for them during the periods that you skipped, most of the time one of them joined you

Most of the group didn’t understand why Henry had extended this offer to you in the first place, didn’t understand his weird fascination with you

They all began to understand individually with time

Patrick began his obsession when he realised that he could make being in your presence a game

Patrick is a sociopath, there’s no sugar coating it because it’s just the truth

And Patrick loves to torment, he likes to manipulative and he likes to cause pain to his chosen target

And it’s only after a few times he tries to target you that he realises that you don’t succumb as easily as other people

Any words he spewed, any plots he cooked up and any sickly sweet manipulative tactics he tried to use, you would most of the time simply see through it

This made whenever Patrick finally did break you down all the more satisfying

It became a somewhat game of cat and mouse to him as he attempted to find the best ways to hurt you

But Patrick also quickly noticed he despises when someone other than him and the others tried the same methods to hurt you, that’s why he scared off all of your tormentors and bullies

He wants to be your biggest and only bully

And he wants the satisfaction of finally overcoming your intelligence and breaking you more than anything

Victor was the next one to become obsessed with you

Victor was the verbal punching bag of the group, or he thought he was considering how he denies ever acknowledging his cruelty towards belch

But with you, he finally had someone who was below him

In his eyes no matter how smart you were, your still younger than him and you clearly need guidance in how to survive in highschool

He could sweetly (meanly and roughly) condescend you and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it because you were the bottom of the food chain

You validated his want to be needed, to know better and be better than someone

He purposely ignores the fact that intelligence wise and probably in most ways your better than him

He doesn’t care as long as he can keep treating you like a clueless little lamb who wandered into the den of wolves

Belch was quickly taken with you considering he always struggled with his intelligence and you had helped him that afternoon in a calmer manner than any teacher had

But he also enjoyed that your not scared of him despite that fact you definitely should be

You spoke to him without mockery but you also didn’t mince your words, you explained things without sugar coating his failures but you also didn’t rub his loses in his face

The other question why he has you teach him instead of just having you do his work, but you help him learn and overcome his insecurities that he’s had about his intelligence for years now

Maybe that’s why he’s so protective of you, maybe that’s why he begin to view you as a sister figure

Belch doesn’t care to expand his thoughts on that subject beyond the fact that he knows it’ll be hard to ever let go of you now

Henry and you have a weird dynamic

In some ways Henry views you as somewhat of an equal, in others he views you as the bottom of the food chain considering you can hardly defend yourself

His fascination brews from the need to be what you are, he’s always wanted to be the smartest in the room and his inherent narcissism had deluded him into believing that’s true

And now he has you, someone who actually is the smartest person in the room

Sometimes deep down Henry can’t tell if he’s obsessive with you because he wants to have an equal or if he just secretly wants what you have

He also enjoys that your unafraid of speaking the truth to him

You don’t sugarcoat your words when talking to him, which is a risky move on your part but it seems to work for you for now

You’ll openly disagree with his decisions if you believe they’re wrong, and usually Henry would kill someone for disrespecting him by disagreeing

But he feels more open to listening to you, feels more inclined to taking your advice

Your almost like a right hand to Henry, that’s if he ever actually admitted that your anything to him

But you are, because he’s already threatened and hurt the people who hurt you and is actively making sure that his presence surrounds you enough so that anyone within a few feet of you will flee out of fear

Henry believes that your just like him, therefore it’s his duty to guide you to the right path

To guide you into his path

You just didn’t realise how intrusive and dangerous this guidance would become

Sorry if this didn’t make sense at all 😭🙏

I’m trying to go for a sister sage and homelander type dynamic here but it probably doesn’t work

I just had the idea and thought I’d mix it with the ask tbh

Anyway, what did you think? :)

[misswqrld]

Dating Stanley Uris (Head-cannons)

-When you guys started dating he was so nervous!

-He protest against you telling his and your friends, like he would stand outside your house with signs

-Such a sweetheart, will by you gifts whenever

-If you are ever sad Stan will show up at your house with a tub of ice cream and two spoons

-Of course he will cry with you

-Richie will always bully him

-"I could so pull Y/n if I wanted to."

-"Yeah, no"

-You kiss in front of the Losers?

-The losers will pretend to wash their eyes out with soap and vomit

-He absolutely loves calling you darling, honey, little miss sassy, and pumpkin

-You on the other hand betch, sweet cheeks, little jew, and babe

-You always go one dates at parks

-You enjoy the silence and he likes the birds

-He tries his hardest to draw you and they turn out beautiful

-He says they never capture your beauty but you think there to pretty

-If you get hurt Stan will be the first by your side

-He is the most protective thing ever

-Someone hits you to hard with a dodgeball?

-He will smack them right back until they bleed

-He will send glares their way until you tell him to stop

-He is a complete golden retriever boyfriend

-Stan dies when you wear light blue

-Doesn't matter what it is as long as its blue

-Want to annoy him?

-Pineapple on pizza

-Insult his favorite games

-Call him a stupid jew

-You think bird watching is his favorite?

-You watching is

-Not in a creepy way but sometimes he gets lost in your beauty

-The bowers gang will never be able to touch you

[suekeyyyy]

-Perverts of Derry-

✩ IT (2017) ᙭ Oᑕ'Տ✩

𝘉𝘢𝘥 ՏᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: Five "sɪsᴛᴇʀs" ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴇʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴇɴ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀᴛs 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦,𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦,𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺,𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏᴡɴ.

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎᘜՏ: sᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴀᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀssᴀᴜʟᴛ, ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ʙᴀᴅ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ, ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ, ʀᴀᴘᴇ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴄʟᴏᴡɴs, ғɪʀᴇ.

Ｃｏｍｍｉｎｇ ｓｏｏｎ...

[supercap2319]

"Come on, Y/N. You can tell us the truth. Big Bill here has a small wiener right?" Richie grinned.

It was the summer before their last year of school and during the time between defeating IT and letting Georgie go, Bill had gotten himself a boyfriend and he was welcomed by the Losers Club. Even Beverly, who would visit Derry in the summer, liked Y/N.

Of course, this doesn't mean he was safe from the lewd comments of trashmouth Tozier.

Y/N looks at Richie, who is currently huddled with Eddie underneath a tree by the water of the barrens. "It's a shame you think that. He's great in bed. I don't think I've seen anyone bigger than Bill packing downstairs and it's so hot hearing he stutter that he's going to cum."

For a moment, everyone just stares at them as Bill blushes hard. Eddie breaks the silence. "Bullshit! I call fucking bullshit!"

"Yeah, there's no way Billy's tapped any ass." Richie said.

"Well, he has. Big Bill's no longer a blushing virgin."

That just made Bill blush harder.

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> I decided to write this more like a casual narration, for the storytelling vibes. Also, I might have tried to pull a "going back and forth in time like I'm S.King", so not everything will be crystal clear from the get-go. Hope you enjoy and feel free to interact!!!

-> I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but the fem pov came more naturally to me, so I apologise if it takes away from the story for some of you.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Five Years by David Bowie

~ 1 ~

1979 Derry, Maine

A family of three moved to Derry, for the father's work. Maine has its fair share of factories and the average person here doesn't mind getting their hands dirty, if it means paying the bills.

You were twelve when your family settled in an amiable house in Witchham St.

You may be seventeen now and you may have embraced the Losers' Club almost like a parental figure... But that wasn't the case five years ago.

When you first moved to Derry, you were twelve.

It was that same year you attended the annual Derry Funfair -Pennywise's favorite time to wake up. How could it not be, with so many kids out after dark... The Derry Funfair. The perfect hunting ground for the entity. That fateful night, you saw him for the first time. You call IT a 'he' because in the form of a clown, IT feels like a 'he'.

The air at the funfair was thick with the smell of popcorn, sugar... and something faintly metallic. As you walked through the crowd, laughter rang out around you, along with the loud music coming from the speakers far above your head.

You spotted the Ferris Wheel turning slowly against the darkening sky, each of its blinking lights reflecting in the deepening puddles scattered along the path. The Carousel line was snaking on that very path. You always loved how the painted horses glistened under the soft glow of the carnival lights...

Fed up with a group of cocky twenty-somethings, you slipped away from the fair, eventually finding yourself by the bridge for a moment of peace. You liked the breeze and the faint smell of night-blooming flowers. You still do.

It was quiet, until you suddenly heard a distinct sort of giggling. You also spotted a single, shiny red balloon floating toward you, bobbing against the wind. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. Chills ran down your arms. Instinct warned you that something was very wrong.

That night, in your rush to escape and flee back to the fair, you left your hairbow at the bridge.

Later, as you looked out the window of your father's car on the ride home, you looked back and saw him -an enormous figure in a dusty, faded clown suit, watching you, waving slowly at you. His face was ghostly pale, almost like porcelain, with eyes that gleamed a strange and unsettling shade of amber. Those eyes seemed knowing, as if they could peel back every thought and fear inside you. A painted smile stretched across his mouth, far too wide and framed by rows of teeth that looked far too many, like something out of a nightmare. Wisps of reddish-orange hair framed his face, stiff and wild. The ruffles around his neck were yellowed with age, their edges fraying.

The suit itself was old, streaked with grime. Large, oversized pom-poms lined the front in an even row. And yet, despite his faded, worn appearance, there was something disturbingly vibrant about him. It was as if he wasn't really standing but rather waiting -waiting for you to wave back at him.

Even from the safety of the car, a chill had crept through you, and somehow you knew that he was still watching long after the car had turned, his gaze following you all the way home.

That night, when you woke up thirsty from all the popcorn you'd had at the fair, you wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. There, neatly placed beside the sink, was your lost hairbow -the same one you'd bitterly cried over after realizing it was missing.

Two days later, you returned to the fair with your parents. You felt happy. You were carefree. You were stupid. You couldn't resist looking for the clown who had waved at you... You had a strange feeling that the balloon belonged to him... It was the shame shade as his painted lips. You also had another, even odder feeling that he had somehow been the one who returned your hair ribbon.

Eventually you found him. The clown waved again and this time, you waved back, even managing a smile. But when he extended an unnaturally long arm, gesturing you to come closer, you were smart enough to keep your distance. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his voice, soft and coaxing, whispered your name.

Strangely, your parents didn't seem to notice him, neither that day nor the first time you'd seen him...

It was July. You didn't see the clown again until early autumn, right around the time you started feeling nervous about your new school.

That summer, he haunted your dreams night after night. They'd start innocently enough, not like full blown nightmares -you'd find yourself back at the fair, wandering through empty stalls. The colors were brighter -somehow too bright- and the air too thick. Then, he would appear. A clown in the distance, his wide smile aimed straight at you. You'd try to move, to turn away, but somehow, your feet kept inching closer.

In those dreams, he told you his name -Pennywise-, his favorite color -red- and his favorite food -cotton candy-. You remember telling him that you knew he was lying, that he wasn't just any clown. After that, the dreams stopped.

1984 Derry, Maine

You think back to all that as you blankly stare at the pages of your math book, you think back to what belongs in the past, but your mind drifting off to five years ago is more than justified.

People in town are noticing things these days, though no one says it out loud. There are hushed conversations about kids going missing -George Denbrough included-, strange sightings near the sewers, and that eerie feeling you get walking through Derry alone.

The old-timers say things aren't right this time, that it feels different somehow. You overhear a few whispers that maybe this time, it's sticking around longer. And the worst part is that you know why. You know why even better than your younger friends do...

Since last autumn, you've gotten close to Bev Marsh. She sees you as the older sister she never had. Bill lives right across the street. You babysat him and his little brother, Georgie, over the summer. But since Georgie's death in the Fall, you and Bill have drifted apart. Stanley… well, he may or may not have a crush on you. You know him through Bill -he's a good kid. Eddie Kaspbrak, same way, also through Bill. Thank God he gets some fresh air with his friends -you've heard his mom isn't the easiest. Then there's Ben, your reading buddy from the library. Richie Tozier? You two got into a fight once, over which Led Zeppelin song is the best. And Hanlon, he nearly knocked you over with his bike the first time you met.

Another remarkable mention? Henry Bowers. He is a year younger than you. Sure, the guy's a bully, but oddly enough he and his friends never caused you any trouble. And I say 'oddly enough', in the same way Derry's misfortunes oddly enough never seem to touch you. The bad luck that hangs over this town, the accidents, the disappearances, even the craziness... it's as if you've been given an unspoken pass, a quiet immunity no one else seems to have. Even when trouble looms close, you remain untouched, like some silent pact with the shadows in this place.

However, it's not just the gossiping ladies at the grocery store, or the old wise granddads who enjoy sitting on their porches, that made your mind wander to the past with their words.

As of late, your dad started locking the doors at night without explanation and your mom seems anxious, checking the windows like she expects something -or someone- to be watching. They'd never talk about it, but you can tell they sense it too... The whole town feels off, like there's something lurking beneath the surface. Sometimes, you catch a flash of red in the distance or hear a faint giggle that seems to echo from nowhere. It happens often enough that it feels like more than coincidence.

You've started wondering if he's ever really gone at all.

Even your dreams are different now.

More vivid.

In them, you're back at that same funfair... but it feels hollow, like something out of a faded photo. Every creak of the Ferris Wheel, every rustle of the trees ...sounds wrong. Sometimes, you see him waiting by the bridge, his head tilted in that unnatural way. His smile is sharper and more dangerous, as if he's been waiting all this time, keeping a part of you trapped there. You always wake up shaking, heart pounding in your ears.

The worst part is that the closer you get to waking, the darker the dreams grow.

In last night's one, Pennywise had held his gloved hand out to you, as if inviting you closer. You had felt the weight of his gaze, pulling you in despite everything inside you screaming to run. You started to remember that he's taken kids before, that he leaves things behind as markers -ribbons, scraps, things no one else notices... And then had woken up gasping for air.

No matter how much you try to shake it off, the feeling lingers, leaving you wondering if he's still out there, watching you, just as he was five years ago.

For you, fear twisted into something almost exhilarating five years ago... thanks to all those fleeting moments of intimacy when he would whisper secrets, just for you. It was wrong and you know that, but there was a thrill in the danger he represented. You think about the stories the others tell, how they shudder at the thought of him -of IT- while your heart races at the memories of the laughter, of the games. It's a longing that gnaws at you, even as you wrestle with the dread of his return.

It was easier to just forget before, but now the thought of him returns like a shadow. As you flip the pages of your stupid math book, you wonder if he's standing outside your house right now, waiting for you to come back to him, just as you've secretly wished for him to do all these years. Because, it's true, there's a twisted part of you that misses him.

When the Losers share with you Bill's and Ben's theories about IT and how IT came to be, you can't help but recall how Penny would laugh, a sound that echoed like a melody in the chaos of your childhood, dancing on the edge of terror. His voice, with its playful cadence, would weave stories that made the mundane feel magical. You remember how you'd lean in, drawn by an irresistible urge, despite the way your heart raced and your instincts screamed to flee.

Even the memories of those long, shadowy nights away from the comfort of your bed, punctuated by the pulse of adrenaline, stir something within you -an inexplicable yearning for the connection you shared, however dark it was.

You close the book since there's no way you can concentrate on your homework now and instead, you settle on washing the dishes.

Despite everything, beneath that longing lies the heavy weight of guilt and sorrow. 'Penny' killed Georgie and that truth looms over every fond memory you have with him. This is the part you feel compelled to remind yourself: he's a killer, a predator.

To any onlooker, all they would see is a broken girl, haunted by a lost childhood and a shadowy figure that once made her feel alive and seen. You know better than anyone that the line between fear and fascination is a thin one, and that's a truth you'll have to grapple with...

...in the chapters to come.

masterpost☁️

Would you like to help a struggling uni student? Support me here-> PayPal link ❤️

You can always ask to be tagged :)

Tags; @satubby @sketchist-art

[billdenbroughsgirl]

nap time ♡ bill denbrough

♡ pairing: bill denbrough x fem!reader

a/n ♡ first tumblr post! i’ve been writing fics for a few years now, but i’ve started to really like my work & want to share it! please send requests !

♡ summary: reader goes to bill’s baseball game, and afterwards, they fall asleep cuddling <3

♡ word count: 376 :)

♡ one week ago ♡

you climb onto the bed, and lie your head on bill’s chest, your cheek against his shirt. “i missed you.” you mutter lazily. he’d been at one of his baseball games, and you’d been bored out of your mind at home. “it’s buh-been an h-hour.” he replies, his hands moving to your head, starting to play with your hair. “a very long hour.” you hear him chuckle softly. “muh-maybe you should c-come next t-t-time.” he suggests. “really?” you lift your head from his chest and look at him. he nods, a small smile on his face.

you bounce on your heels, waiting for bill to come over to the bike rack, where you’d agreed to meet. after what feels like forever, you spot him walking towards you. “bill!” you exclaim, running towards him with your arms out. you see a smile light up his face, and he stretches his arms out as you reach him. “that was so cool!” you say, your voice muffled by his arms around you. “y-yeah?” he asks, and you nod. “mhm! you’re really good.” he kisses the top of your head, “th-thank you,” before pulling away from the hug, “you r-ready to go?” he asks, and you nod. the two of you walk the short distance to the bike rack. you hop onto your bike, a cherry red cruiser with a woven basket, and bill gets onto silver.

you’re lying on your back on bill’s bed, waiting for him to get out of the shower. “hurry up!” you call out, partially joking. a moment later, he opens his bedroom door, and you sit up. pulling a ringer tee over his head, he says “j-jesus christ, y/n, be puh-patient.” you shake your head. “i was! you just take forever in the shower!” he rolls his eyes, but you can see a small smile on his face. “yeah, oh-okay.” he walks over to his bed, and you move so he can get comfortable. lying down on his back, he motions you back, patting his chest. you smile, and lay your head down, closing your eyes. “‘m gonna take a nap,” you mumble sleepily, feeling his hand on your head, stroking your hair. “a-alright. s-sleep well, y-y/n.” you smile. “you too, bill.”