#trans losers club

[gloomy-prince]

Trans Eddie au pt 26! Someone has some Thoughts,,,

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Preview for the next ep available now on patreon!

[gray-ace-space]

playing ddlc for the first time in a while with a friend who's never played it before, and it got me thinking about my silly little queer headcanons again.

acespec yuri is so important to me. i realize this may be controversial because yuri is, both textually and subtextually.. just, so horny. (and kinky but this post isn't about that.) and i'm sure part of why i hc her as acespec is just projection and wish fulfillment - she is a cool character, we have some things in common, i like it when characters are like me.

but there's something else going on here, and i think i finally know what it is: yuri's yandere descent into madness and obsession with the protagonist is basically just what happens when you live as ace for years, thinking sexual attraction is only a thing in books and having a purely intellectual interest in it, and then find the one person you're actually extremely attracted to. i see u girl. this shit is crazy.

[the-losers-are-still-losing]

i think we as a society (the five of us on clowntown tumblr) moved on wayyy too quickly from @gloomy-prince ‘s eds running mix tbh bc this shit rocks in the gym idc i’m sweating it out to bananarama w no shame

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Richie and Eddie get top surgery about the same time, so when the other Losers are swimming, they just sit on the rocks and dip their feet into the water

[marshbevvie]

My Golden Trio

My best friend (Richie), my boyfriend (Ben), and my confidante (Bill). Make no mistake, I love all my Losers friends (more like family really) equally. But these three are pure magic.

[mbrainspaz]

That episode in Blue Eye Samurai where (spoilers)

where Mizu randomly does the husbando sidequest and then ends up killing him because he got all emasculated by her fighting skills —it keeps giving me violent flashbacks of the time I invited a guy I had a crush on to my uncle's lakehouse and challenged him to a foosball game. I warned him that I'd won the uni tournament that year. Let's just say I wiped the floor with him, and I guess he couldn't handle it because from that moment forward he... barely ever talked to me again. The tension was palpable.

It's fine though. Hot Colombian/Italian guys who can salsa dance are temporary but foosball is forever.

[marsbotz]

think i got spoiled for life on mars bc i wanted to make a stupid fucking post abt gene x sam hatesex. TWICE spoiled

[rainydaydally]

Boys don’t cry

Warnings

-Dysphoria

-Misgendering

-Unsafe binding

-Panic attacks

Everybody is at Richies house for a sleepover. They’re all in the living room watching Clueless, and Eddie, Ben, and Bev are making bracelets. Stan’s phone vibrates and some of them look for the source of the iPhone ringtone. Stan pulls his phone out his pocket. “Mom’s calling me, be right back.” Eddie and Mike nod and everyone goes back to watching the movie. Stan walks to the other room down the hall and answers the phone. “Hey mom.” Stan says. “Hey Soph! Are you having fun at Richie���s?” Stan immediately goes blank, all the color drained from his face. “It’s Stan.” He says, coldly. “Hmph. Whatever. I just don’t want my little girl taken away. Do you really hate me that much?” His mom says, teary. “No! I don’t hate you! And it’s not like i’m leaving you. I’m just being who i really am.” Stan says back. “You aren’t being who you really are. Stop being fake and making stuff up. You’re a girl, from your birth until your death.” His mom says coldly. Stan stays silent. “Goodnight Sophia-“ Stan cuts her off at the end. “Goodnight Mom.” He hangs up. Stan walks into the bathroom, and takes his shirt off. He stares at himself in the mirror in his binder. He slowly takes off his binder, tears streaming down his face. He stares at the mirror, at his body. He sobs loudly, he doesn’t even care who hears. He falls to the floor and sits against the wall with his head in his hands. After what it feels like hours of hysterical crying, someone knocks on the door.

“St-Stan? It’s me, B-b-bill.” The voice outside the door says. “C-Can I c-come in?” Bill asks. “One second.” Stan chokes out. He quickly puts his shirt back on, and a sports bra he kept in his backpack, not bothering to put on his binder. He knows Bill won’t judge, and Stan just doesn’t care about anything right now. Stan unlocks the door from where he’s sitting, and says, “You can come in now.” very quietly. Bill slowly opens the door to see Stan sitting on the bathroom floor, sobbing so hard his eyes are red, and his binder and phone on the floor next to him. Bill crouches down infront of Stan. “S-Stan! What happened? A-are you okay?” Bill frantically asks the smaller boy. Stan cries. “My mom.., she’s just,” Bills face softens and looks empathetic because he knows what Stans mom is like. “She keeps forcing me to be ‘her little princess’. She deadnames me whenever she can, she pretends that I never came out to her and my Dad. My Dad always genders me correctly and uses the right name and stuff, but it’s just- my mom is such a bitch.” Stan sobs. Bill sits down next to Stan, and Stan leans his head onto Bill’s shoulder. “I’m s-so sorry, St-Stanley.” Bill says, putting Stans hand in his and squeezing it. Stan squeezes back. “I’m alright, just sometimes I wish i was a real boy… Maybe not sometimes, more like a lot.” Stan smiles sadly. “What are y-you talking about?! Y-you ARE a ruh-real boy. You’re a-as much of a boy as me, and ruh-richie, and eddie, and any boy at scuh-school, and any boy a-anywhere.” Bill almost yells. “I guess. I just hate my body.,.” Stan sighs. Bill looks down for a very very quick second, and realizes Stan doesn’t have his binder on. Stan blushes. “Sorry. I guess I should have told you- or I can put it back on-“ Bill interrupts. “N-No! If you don’t want to p-put it back on you don’t have t-to. Plus, when you d-don’t have it on i d-don’t really mind. You are you ei-either way.” Stan smiles. “I love you,.,” Stan blurts, he quickly covers his mouth with his hand. Bill laughs softly. “I l-love you t-too, Stanley.” Bill says. “Is it okay if I... kiss you?” Stan asks. Bill nods. They lean in for a kiss and Stan puts his hand on Bills neck. After a while of kissing the bathroom door opens.

“Hey, you weirdos oka- OH MY GOD!” Stan and Bill let go of eachother. Stan looks the other way as Bill stands up quickly to face Richie standing in the bathroom doorway. “HOLY SHIT. WERE YOU GUYS MAKING BABIES?!” Richie yells as loud as he can. “NO!! NO WE WERENT!” Stan squeaks. “W-we were just k-kissing..” Bill smiles and looks down to Stan. Stan covers his face in his hands with embarrassment. Richie smirks at them. “Who in the hell is making babies?!” Eddie runs into the bathroom doorway. “What?” Eddie says blankly. Stan and Bill start laughing. “Let’s just go back to the living room guys.” Stan smiles. Stan waits for everyone to leave the bathroom. Bill notices he isn’t coming with them, and turns around. “You coming?” “I don’t know. Do you think I should put my binder on?” Stan asks. “It d-depends. How l-long have you been w-wearing it?” “Oh, since about 7 this morning…” Stan says quietly. “H-holy shit. Thats 13 h-hours. If you want to get top s-surgery when you’re older you sh-shouldn’t wear it that long.” Stan sighs. “I know, I know. I’ll keep it off.” Bill nods. “Th-thanks.” They both leave the bathroom. Not one of the losers says anything about stan not wearing his binder, and he’s very grateful about that. Stan feels like everyone is looking at him though, even though they aren’t. Stan’s phone keeps buzzing after the movie ends. Stan pulls his phone out of his pocket. “It’s my dad, i guess i better answer him… uhm, is it okay if you stay in the guest bedroom with me while i call him?” Stan asks Bill. “Yea, s-sure. i won’t s-say anything if y-you don’t want me t-to.” Bill says. Stan grabs Bill’s hand and they walk to the guest bedroom.

“Hey Dad.” Stan says. “Hey, son. How’s my boy doing?” Stan smiles at the extra gender euphoria. Bill’s so happy for Stan. Atleast one of Stan’s parents isn’t an asshole. “Good. We just finished watching a movie.” Stan says. They chit-chat for a while until Stan’s dad finally says, “Sorry about what your Mom said earlier. You know how she is about… that.” “Yea. It’s okay, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I just wish she understood!” Stan replies. “Yea, so do I… well i have to go to sleep now because I am an old man, goodnight.” Stan laughs. “Night, dad.” The call ends, and Bill and Stan stand up from where they were sitting on the bed. “That went well, i’m glad your dad’s so supportive.” Bill smiles, holding Stan’s hand as they walk back to the living room. “Me too.”

Fanfic on Ao3

Fanfic on Wattpad

[pamela-kyle-mp3]

Pennywise sketch i've made :D

[takinghits4u]

dinosaur collection!!

figures:

my friend won this and gave it to me !!

got this for a dollar at my local dollar store

my mom bought me these



blankets + pillow

i had a dream were i starting crying bc i forgot to bring one of my dinosaur blankets to summer camp

also got this one at my local dollar store

plushies:

my friend got me this one for me!

first one i got when i starting collecting dinosaur stuff

one of my favs!! my 1# fav is a weighted one my sister got me but i forgot to film it :crying_cat:

extra:

it makes sounds when you shake it :3

[gloomy-prince]

Trans Eddie au pt 15! I don't have much to say about this one besides goth Stan rights

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Follow on Webtoons too!!

[snekdood]

why do ppl you barely know or interact with at all think you give a huge fuck about interacting with them?

[floorpancakes]

i have this meme of scaramouche on my phone with trans flags edited into his eyes when i rewatch holiani and do this for all the characters its over for everyone

[jettemara]

Random future head cannons for Gravity Falls.

(I can’t sleep so I’m gonna make it everyone else’s problem)

Dipper:

- Starts the first ever ddmd club at his high school as well as a Cryptid/ Mystery club (Mabel is the vice president of the club and always plans club events)

- Studies ancient history and journalism in college

- Is 100% a loser trans boy (Mabel always helps him with his t shots)

- Makes journals of his own and tried to publish one (Didn’t go well)

- Meets a really nice girl in college that helps him get out of his comfort zone. She finds Dipper’s work on cryptids very interesting. “She’s the one, Mabel. I know it. She just gets me.”

- Forgets to tie his shoes all the time and is constantly tripping because of it

- Still loves BABBA but also listens to Midwest emo

Mabel:

- Waddles still lives with Mabel and wins the world record for oldest pig alive

- Studies Fashion in college and starts her own alternative clothing business (it’s very successful)

- Stan taught her how to con during the first summer she visited gf and she got really good at it but has refused to use her skills unless someone is being an asshole and “Totally deserved it, Dipper! It’s not my fault he didn’t know how to cheat at poker”

- Listens to bands like lemon demon and will wood after she goes through her boy band phase (she goes back and listens to several timz when she misses Grenada and Candy)

- She and Pacifica have been dating since the beginning of their junior year in high school (they confessed to each other over the summer and are currently doing a long distance thing)

Ford:

- He and Fiddleford hang out after weirdmagedon and manage to rekindle their friendship

- Started a new journal with Stan while they traveled the world on the Stan’o’ war

- Found out that the Cold War ended and he learned about the attack on 9/11 and he found out that gay marriage was legalized all in the same day (had to sit down because he thought he was going to pass out)

- Is slowly learning to forgive himself for “falling for Bill’s tricks” and still has to accept that it wasn’t his fault and that he was manipulated

- His favorite new “technology advancement” is bluetooth

Pacifica:

- Over the years she and her family have drifted apart and Paz has learned to live to be completely independent from her parents

- Works at the dinner with Lazy Susan and has come to see her as a mother figure

- Is actually really good with computers and technology

- She went on a walk on night and ended up at the old Northwest Mansion. She was feeling really homesick and so she walked around the gardens for a while and met Fiddleford. They found out that they have the same passion for computers and bonded of it.

- She made an indie mystery puzzle solving game based loosely on weirdmagedon with the help of Dipper and Fidds

- In a relationship with Mabel and still gets butterflies whenever she’s around

Fiddleford:

- Divorced his raccoon wife (the break up was messy, he doesn’t like to talk about it)

- Invites Tate and his family to live in the mansion with him and they all accept

- He and Tate talk a lot and Fidds apologizes all the time for leaving when Tate was a kid. They mange to figure it out and their relationship is getting stronger

- Teaches Pacifica tons about computer tech and teaches her a little bit of robotics (her first robot blew up and set fire to the south garden of the mansion)

- Relearns banjo and is still one hell of a musician

- Barely remembers dating Stan when they were younger but still has feelings for him, he won’t tell him until later (don’t mind me just spreading my fiddlestan agenda)

Stan:

- Took Ford to go visit Shermie (Shermie hits them both and then hugs them immediately after)

- Has stopped conning people as much as possible and now only does it when absolutely necessary (Normally while on adventures with Ford)

- His favorite band is They Might Be Giants and he and Ford sing their songs together all the time

- Bill still lives in Stan’s mind but has no power he’s just like an annoying little voice in his head (they manage to be “friends” and get along)

- He picked up lace making and is incredibly talented (He originally learned how to knit from Mabel, but didn’t like it as much. She showed him what Lacemaking was and he fell in love with the hobby)

- Has gaps in his memory but has been able to regain most of them

- He and Fidds used to date when he was rebuilding the portal but they don’t talk about it anymore. He has lingering feelings but he won’t ever admit it.

[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☁️

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Tags; @satubby @sketchist-art

[thelesbianpoirot]

your entire shtick sounds like ur a white girl terf lesbian loser who racefakes being Black just to get some credibility and pity for your virulent transphobia and internalised homophobic tendencies. youre so despicable that you gotta add some oppression to your unlikeable persona just to get pity. And if you are Black -- this is sad. The white terfies dont actually love you, you're a diverse little asset to them. Have the day you deserve.

You believe i'm a lesbian more than you believe i'm black? I can't be black because I disagree with you? And if I am black, I believe what I do because I want to be approved of by white people?

So I must align with white people to disagree with you.

Because only white people are capable of defiant "bad" thoughts? If you really saw black people as complete human beings instead of sock puppets for your causes, you would have space in your mind for black people who disagree with you outside of any relationship they have to white people. "Terfies" aren't an established group like a fandom, it's a label thrown at any woman in defiance of the current status quo. Conservative women who would sooner see abortion banned and every woman het married with kids, or apolitical horny lesbians/bis who watch porn all day every day, and go to strip clubs are classed as radical feminists because they know pussy from dick. Face it! Some of these women are black, brown, disabled, bi, lesbian, autistic, and have been or currently identified as trans. Rebel women are in every group. No group of women are exempt from your witch hunt. "The white terfies dont actually love you" How to admit your entire belief system is predicated not on arguments you truly believe in or facts, but how nicely people treat you, and love bomb you into their cult. Being black does not get you "credibility" in radblr orbit. It doesn't even get me pity, I keep getting random accusations of bigotry from within this same orbit for my other views. It gets you anonymous cowardice messages like this. It is not some bigotry free space, but I am sooner debated about bullshit than tokenized as an expert of race relations. Unlike faux tumblr "leftish" groups that treats every black person off the street like a trained activist if they agree with them enough, when many are ignorant scammers, much like themselves. Birds of a feather. Nothing was a bigger indication of my internalized homophobia than the years I wasted pretending I was something I am not, a male, or bisexual (willing to accept any genitals a sexual partner may have). I am a big o'l black lesbian woman and my happiness is not dependent on what foreign whites think of me. It is dependent on the success of my goal of world domination. Sincerely,

A defiant loudmouth Negress.

Hard to tell but that's my middle finger.