#it (chapter 1)

[emtozier21]

Two generations of Hanlons and Urises!

[unberryble]

they've been in love for over 3 decades btw 😔❤️‍🩹

[rewatchinginsteadofhealing]

Both Lost their first love 💔

[greenandsorrow]

Maybe some pennywise headcanons with fem!reader whos been stalking him? Like is obsessed and has a crush on him, fascinated with how he's such an interesting being, and then bringing him a gift basket out of adoration; how do you think pennywise would react? Be annoyed? Angry? Happy? Confused? Excited? HEHE! Thank you ♡♡♡

adoration 💌

Pennywise x fem!stalker!reader

☞ obsession, yandere!reader??, fluff & wholesomeness, chaotic atmosphere, horror-ish undertone but nothing bad actually happens, a bit suggestive

A/N: I absolutely love the unhinged energy you bring to the table, lovely anon! Girlhood is about worshipping eldritch entities first and foremost. And it's really refreshing how the reader is the one fixated on Penny, instead of the other way around.

There are rumors about you in Derry.

The strange girl who's always seen lingering near storm drains and sewers, or pacing around the old well house. Locals whisper you're crazy.

They're wrong.

You're just in love with something no one else understands.

Pennywise notices.

You smell different. Not afraid... Curious. Your heartbeat doesn't race. It stutters like you're excited.

That's... new. And "new" is rare in Its long life.

So Pennywise is amused at first.

Like, look at this tiny little human who keeps returning to his territory. Bold. And probably not mentally stable.

The clown likes that.

You start leaving little gifts by the storm drain.

Not human gifts. You know better than that, obviously.

They're your kind of feral love language. Old rings from thrift stores that feel haunted, a jar of marbles you had since you were little, dead flowers, shredded notebook pages with messy handwriting about beautiful teeth and cosmic hunger.

He collects them. Keeps them like trophies.

One day, you take a leap.

You bring him a whole gift basket. With a big, ridiculous red bow.

Inside is such a bizarre mix of things.

Your favourite candy, a little wind-up clown toy, a silver charm, a cracked mirror, an embroidered handkerchief, and lastly... some weird meat from the butcher shop you thought he might like.

How romantic.

His reaction at first?

Suspicion.

Gifts mean expectations. They're traps. Why are you giving the predator treats? Why do you smell like eternal devotion?

Then his own curiosity takes over.

Pennywise appears in front of you in full theatrical fashion –sharp smile, tilted head, eyes glowing. You don't scream. You beam. That throws him off more than anything.

"For me?" he mocks, voice lilting.

He expects you to flinch, stammer, crumble under his gaze.

Instead, you step closer and, oh well... you brush imaginary dust off his costume.

The audacity.

And then...

"Oh my gosh!!!!! It's so good to finally meet you, sweetie pie!!! Or... I mean—I should show some respect, right, you're such a magnificent entity after all—"

He's deciding whether to bite or observe.

There's a moment where he leans in close and inhales you, nostrils flaring and all.

He's sorting through your scent. There's admiration, obsession, adrenaline, a feminine softness, ink, metal, and… ah.

The aching desire to belong to him.

He laughs. Quietly first. Then louder. Then he howls.

He really likes you. You're entertaining. Completely deranged. His favorite kind of human.

He lets you keep coming back.

Not just lets you, actually.

Pennywise invites you in small ways. Balloons that appear only for you. Drain covers left slightly open. Quiet laughter in places he knows you'll follow.

You're not just stalking him anymore –you've been chosen.

But Pennywise the Clown is always hungry for more than offered.

You give him gifts, he wants more than material validation. The 3D world is ephemeral to a creature like him, he can manipulate the shape of the very items you bring him. Your flesh and bones are not forever. But your spirit is, the soul is a powerful force.

That's why, sometimes he wants your stories. Sometimes he wants to hear you say why you're obsessed with him, in excruciating detail.

Sometimes he just presses a claw to your throat and scans how your body reacts –from your breath hitching to your thighs pressing together.

In the end, he becomes possessive over you, but not like with prey. You're something else. Something claimed.

If any other creature –human or not– tries to touch what's his, they go missing. You never see what happens to them, but he blurbs more on some days.

He still threatens to eat you too from time to time, but it feels more like a form of affection now.

After all, you're his looney human girl. And this all just foreplay.

Thank you for reading! You can support me by commenting, reblogging, and tipping!

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IT masterlist

Divider by @uzmacchiato 🩷

IT taglist ☞ @satubby @sketchist-art @urdeftonesgrrrl @vampirecrow38 @ohmysoultakemysoul @myfamdontknow

[panties-on-boys]

i actually fucking hate mentioning IT and the person i’m talking to goes “oh the movie with the clown??” like. yeah. i fucking guess. IT IS THE LEAST IMPORTANT CHARACTER IN THE WHOLE FILM. IT’S FOUND FAMILY. IT’S BOYS IN LOVE IN THE 80s. IT’S BREAKING THE CYCLE. IT’S A GIRL BEING ONE OF THE BOYS. but i guess the stupid fucking dancing clown was also there. wasting everybody’s FUCKING TIME and killing RICHIE TOZIER’S BOYFRIEND

[mayamwle989]

they’re so mint chocolate chip & neapolitan 🍨⛱️

[cece693]

Can you do Henry bowers x male reader (enemies to lovers perhaps??)

I'M NOT SCARED

henry bowers x male reader

You didn’t know when it started.

Maybe it was the day you stood your ground in the school hallway when Henry shoved you into the lockers, and instead of flinching, you smiled. Not a friendly smile, but that kind of twisted grin that said, Try it. I dare you. Henry didn’t expect that. No one ever smiled when he was ready to knock their teeth down their throat.

“You got a death wish or something, freak?” he spat, fist bunching in your collar.

“I dunno,” you muttered coolly. “You always this rough with boys you like?”

The slap didn’t come. Which surprised both of you. You laughed, low and taunting, even as your heart pounded like a snare drum behind your ribs. And from then on, it was a game of venom and fire.

He tripped you in the cafeteria.

You stole his lighter from his back pocket.

He slammed your locker shut on your hand.

You keyed his dad’s truck.

He called you every slur under the sun.

You called him lonely.

And that one cut deep. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed, like you’d hit something he didn’t want anyone seeing. And it all boiled over one sticky July afternoon behind the lumber yard. You were sitting on the edge of a rusted-out trailer, shirt off, smoking a cigarette like a delinquent in a coming-of-age film. And maybe you were a little theatrical about it, just to piss him off.

You heard his boots crunch gravel before you saw him.

“I should knock your fuckin’ teeth in.” Henry growled, stepping into the sun. You didn’t move. You just offered him the cigarette. “You tryin’ to get under my skin or somethin’?” he asked, not taking it.

You blew smoke out the side of your mouth. “Why? You think I haven’t already?”

He shoved you. Hard.

You hit the gravel with a grunt, palms scraped, lip bleeding. But you laughed again. You laughed like a man who wasn’t scared of monsters anymore, not even the kind that wore human skin.

Henry stood over you seething. “You’re so fuckin’—”

“Say it.” you dared, staring up at him from the ground.

He didn’t say it.

He kissed you.

It was violent and clumsy and full of teeth. When he pulled away, he looked almost afraid of you or maybe of what he’d just done. “You tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” he muttered, backing up fast like a dog that just bit its owner.

“And what do I get?" you asked, wiping your lip with the back of your hand, smirking through the taste of iron and ash. “For keeping your little secret.”

Henry froze.

Your voice was too steady, too calm, like you’d been expecting this. Like you’d wanted him to snap. That cocky little smirk on your face lit a fuse under his skin.

“What?” he barked, fists clenched, chest heaving. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You stood slowly, brushing dust and gravel off your jeans. The cut on your lip throbbed, but you welcomed the sting. It made this real. 

“I mean,” you said, cocking your head, “you get to play monster. Threaten me. Pretend that didn’t mean anything. But what do I get?”

Henry’s face twisted like he’d bitten into something sour. “You wanna get paid for a kiss, sweetheart?”

You stepped forward until you were toe to toe again. “I want honesty.” He scoffed, eyes darting away like you were a spotlight he couldn’t bear to stand in. “I want a reason you looked scared shitless after you kissed me.”

“I wasn’t scared.” he snapped, too fast.

You smiled wider. “Then why’d you run, Bowers?”

He shoved you again, but it wasn’t like before. There was no heat behind it. No fury. Just desperation. A kneejerk reaction to the storm you were kicking up inside him. “I’m not like you. I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

“Funny because your mouth told me a different story."

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.”

But you didn’t. Because for the first time in your life, you had Henry Bowers cornered. “Make me.”

He snapped.

He grabbed your face and kissed you again. Harder this time, rough hands framing your jaw like he didn’t know whether to hold you or crush you. His breath was ragged, his whole body tense like he hated himself with every second that passed but couldn’t pull away.

When you pulled back, both of you were panting. “I hate you.” he said, voice cracking.

“I know,” you said, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone. “That’s the only way you know how to love anything, isn’t it?” For the first time, Bowers didn't have a comeback.

[writerxwren]

I mean yeah I guess you could say that