Instead of a giant spider as the final boss, what do you think they should have done?

Instead of a giant spider as the final boss, what do you think they should have done?

Also, in the book, it says that Beverly has an orgy with the 7 other boys in the sewer. How come that part wasn't in the movie?

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>Also, in the book, it says that Beverly has an orgy with the 7 other boys in the sewer. How come that part wasn't in the movie?

Because that would be kind of weird to put on Sup Forums.

>spider
*drider

It's going to be in the new movie

They will just a pool party scene where everyone is alive and happy

No, it's not

Yea, it is.

behind the scenes shots of all the kids in robes, meaning half-to-mostly naked on camera.

There has been a good amount to imply that it will be in the movie, actually.
A whole lot of half-naked set pictures with the kids

Will they include this?

The movie fucking sucked and the only reason this movie is even memorable is because of Tim Curry's fantastic performance.

The mini was better than the book.

>orgy
she literally forced them all to run a train on her. imagine being sloppy 7ths

They better.

Man, the book must be shit.

So moist and easy to enter

Meant to respond to:

The book is great, the mini is garbage.

...

The movie is memorable since it was a TV miniseries kids could watch, being only tv-14 I believe. So older kids made their younger siblings watch, or those kids caught it when it reran. You could tape the scary parts and do the same thing. It's a story about kids dealing with a threat adults don't understand or even see, so kids can really relate to the fear of that situation, and also why the adult sections suck ass. It's pretty much the perfect horror movie for younger audiences.

So who do you think was the 7th one? And did they all cum inside her or did they pull out?

>high chance of death just around the corner.

nigga you better believe i'm painting that womb with my baby batter.

WTF I hate Stephen King now

What page is it? I dont believe you

It should have been a group of ninjas.

do i really need to post it?

yes

Instead of spider, how about some caveman form of clown, as if clown is his current form but he is the embodiment of eternal prankster demon.

> The memory came—the memory behind the birds—but it was vague and disconnected. Perhaps this one always would be. She had—

> Her thoughts broke off as she realized that Eddie comes to her first, because he is the most frightened. He comes to her not as her friend of that summer, or as her brief lover now, but the way he would have come to his mother only three or four years ago, to be comforted; he doesn’t draw back from her smooth nakedness and at first she doubts if he even feels it. He is trembling, and although she holds him the darkness is so perfect that even this close she cannot see him; except for the rough cast he might as well be a phantom.

> “What do you want?” he asks her.

> “You have to put your thing in me, ” she says.

> He tries to pull back but she holds him and he subsides against her. She has heard someone—Ben, she thinks—draw in his breath.

> “Bevvie, I can’t do that. I don’t know how—”

> “I think it’s easy. But you’ll have to get undressed.” She thinks about the intricacies of managing cast and shirt, first somehow separating and then rejoining them, and amends, “Your pants, anyway.”

> “No, I can’t!” But she thinks part of him can, and wants to, because his trembling has stopped and she feels something small and hard which presses against the right side of her belly.

> “You can,” she says, and pulls him down. The surface beneath her bare back and legs is firm, clayey, dry. The distant thunder of the water is drowsy, soothing. She reaches for him. There’s a moment when her father’s face intervenes, harsh and forbidding

> (I want to see if you’re intact)

> and then she closes her arms around Eddie’s neck, her smooth cheek against his smooth cheek, and as he tentatively touches her small breasts she sighs and thinks for the first time

> This is Eddie and she remembers a day in July—couldit only have been last month?—when no one else turned up in the Barrens but Eddie, and he had a whole bunch of Little Lulu comic books and they read together for most of the afternoon, Little Lulu looking for beebleberries and getting in all sorts of crazy situations, Witch Hazel, all of those guys. It had been fun.

> She thinks of birds; in particular of the grackles and starlings and crows that come back in the spring, and her hands go to his belt and loosen it, and he says again that he can’t do that; she tells him that he can, she knows he can, and what she feels is not shame or fear now but a kind of triumph.

> “Where?” he says, and that hard thing pushes urgently against her inner thigh.

> “Here,” she says.

> “Bevvie, I’ll fall on you!” he says, and she hears his breath start to whistle painfully.

> “I think that’s sort of the idea, ” she tells him and holds him gently and guides him. He pushes forward too fast and there is pain.

> Ssssss!—she draws her breath in, her teeth biting at her lower lip and thinks of the birds again, the spring birds, lining the roofpeaks of houses, taking wing all at once under low March clouds.

> “Beverly?” he says uncertainly. “Are you okay?”

> “Go slower,” she says. “It’ll be easier for you to breathe.” He does move more slowly, and after awhile his breathing speeds up but she understands this is not because there is anything wrong with him.

> The pain fades. Suddenly he moves more quickly, then stops, stiffens, and makes a sound—some sound. She senses that this is something for him, something extraordinarily special, something like ... like flying. She feels powerful: she feels a sense of triumph rise up strongly within her. Is this what her father was afraid of? Well he might be! There was power in this act, all right, a chain-breaking power that was blood-deep.

>instagram.com/p/BJvrfuSjIBI/?taken-by=barbaramus

So it looks like we are gonna get servers after all

Well, you asked for it. It's a bit graphic though. You have been warned.

Liar

> She feels no physical pleasure, but there is a kind of mental ecstasy in it for her. She senses the closeness. He puts his face against her neck and she holds him He’s crying. She holds him. And feels the part of him that made a connection between them begin to fade. It is not leaving her, exactly; it is simply fading, becoming less.

> When his weight shifts away she sits up and touches his face in the darkness.

> “Did you?”

> “Did I what?”

> “Whatever it is. I don’t know, exactly.”

> He shakes his head—shefeels it with her hand against his cheek.

> “I don’t think it was exactly like ... you know, like the big boys say. But it was ... it was really something. He speaks low so the others can’t hear. ”I love you, Bevvie.”

> Her consciousness breaks down a little there. She’s quite sure there’s more talk, some whispered, some loud, and can’t remember what is said. It doesn’t matter. Does she have to talk each of them into it all over again? Yes, probably. But it doesn’t matter. They have to be talked into it, this essential human link between the world and the infinite, the only place where the bloodstream touches eternity. It doesn’t matter. What matters is love and desire. Here in this dark is as good a place as any. Better than some, maybe.

> Mike comes to her, then Richie, and the act is repeated. Now she feels some pleasure, dim heat in her childish unmatured sex, and she closes her eyes as Stan comes to her and she thinks of the birds, spring and the birds, and she sees them, again and again, all lighting at once, filling up the winter-naked trees, shockwave riders on the moving edge of nature’s most violent season, she sees them take wing again and again, the flutter of their wings like the snap of many sheets on the line, and she thinks:

Studio won't allow it. It's the primary reason Fukunaga left the project.

> A month from now every kid in Derry Park will have a kite, they’ll run to keep the strings from getting tangled with each other. She thinks again: This is what flying is like.

> With Stan as with the others, there is that rueful sense of fading, of leaving, with whatever they truly need from this act—some ultimate—close but as yet unfound.

> “Did you?” she asks again, and although she doesn’t know exactly what “it” is, she knows that he hasn’t.

> There is a long wait, and then Ben comes to her.

> He is trembling all over, but it is not the fearful trembling she felt in Stan.

> “Beverly, I can’t,” he says in a tone which purports to be reasonable and is anything but.

> “You can too. I can feel it.”

> She sure can. There’s more of this hardness; more of him. She can feel it below the gentle push of his belly. Its size raises a certain curiosity and she touches the bulge lightly. He groans against her neck, and the blow of his breath causes her bare body to dimple with goosebumps. She feels the first twist of real heat race through her—suddenlythe feeling in her is very large; she recognizes that it is too big

> (and is he too big, can she take that into herself?)

> and too old for her, something, some feeling that walks in boots. This is like Henry’s M-80s, something not meant for kids, something that could explode and blow you up. But this was not the place or time for worry; here there was love, desire, and the dark. If they didn’t try for the first two they would surely be left with the last.

> “Beverly, don’t—”

> “Yes.”

> “I ... ”

> “Show me how to fly,” she says with a calmness she doesn’t feel, aware by the fresh wet warmth on her cheek and neck that he has begun to cry. “Show me, Ben.”

Very sexy user. careful you may get banned posting that here!

> “No ...”

> “If you wrote the poem, show me. Feel my hair if you want to, Ben. It’s all right. ”

> “Beverly ... I ... I ...”

> He’s not just trembling now; he’s shaking all over. But she senses again that this ague is not all fear—partof it is the precursor of the throe this act is all about. She thinks of

> (the birds)

> his face, his dear sweet earnest face, and knows it is not fear; it is wanting he feels, a deep passionate wanting now barely held in check, and she feels that sense of power again, something like flying, something like looking down from above and seeing all the birds on the roofpeaks, on the TV antenna atop Wally’s, seeing streets spread out maplike, oh desire, right, this was something, it was love and desire that taught you to fly.

> “Ben! Yes!” she cries suddenly, and the leash breaks.

> She feels pain again, and for a moment there is the frightening sensation of being crushed. Then he props himself up on the palms of his hands and that feeling is gone.

> He’s big, oh yes—the pain is back, and it’s much deeper than when Eddie first entered her. She has to bite her lip again and think of the birds until the burning is gone. But it does go, and she is able to reach up and touch his lips with one finger, and he moans.

> The heat is back, and she feels her power suddenly shift to him; she gives it gladly and goes with it. There is a sensation first of being rocked, of a delicious spiralling sweetness which makes her begin to turn her head helplessly from side to side, and a tuneless humming comes from between her closed lips, this is flying, this, oh love, oh desire, oh this is something impossible to deny, binding, giving, making a strong circle: binding, giving ... flying.

> “Oh Ben, oh my dear, yes,” she whispers, feeling the sweat stand out on her face, feeling their connection

> something firmly in place, something like eternity, the number 8 rocked over on its side. “I love you so much, dear. ”

> And she feels the thing begin to happen—something of which the girls who whisper and giggle about sex in the girls’ room have no idea, at least as far as she knows; they only marvel at how gooshy sex must be, and now she realizes that for many of them sex must be some unrealized undefined monster; they refer to the act as It. Would you do It, do your sister and her boyfriend do It, do your mom and dad still do It, and how they never intend to do It; oh yes, you would think that the whole girls’ side of the fifth-grade class was made up of spinsters-to-be, and it is obvious to Beverly that none of them can suspect this ... this conclusion, and she is only kept from screaming by her knowledge that the others will hear and think her badly hurt. She puts the side of her hand in her mouth and bites down hard. She understands the screamy laughter of Greta Bowie and Sally Mueller and all the others better now: hadn’t they, the seven of them, spent most of this, the longest, scariest summer of their lives, laughing like loons? You laugh because what’s fearful and unknown is also what’s funny, you laugh the way a small child will sometimes laugh and cry at the same time when a capering circus clown approaches, knowing it is supposed to be funny ... but it is also unknown, full of the unknown’s eternal power.

> Biting her hand will not stay the cry, and she can only reassure them—and Ben—by crying out her affirmative in the darkness.

> “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Glorious images of flight fill her head, mixing with the harsh calling of the grackles and starlings; these sounds become the world’s sweetest music.

> So she flies, she flies up, and now the power is not with her or with him but somewhere between them, and he cries out, and she can feel his arms trembling, and she arches up and into him, feeling his spasm, his touch, his total fleeting intimacy with her in the dark. They break through into the lifelight together.

> Then it is over and they are in each other’s arms and when he tries to say something—perhaps some stupid apology that would hurt what she remembers, some stupid apology like a handcuff, she stops his words with a kiss and sends him away.

> Bill comes to her.

> He tries to say something, but his stutter is almost total now.

> “You be quiet,” she says, secure in her new knowledge, but aware that she is tired now. Tired and damned sore. The insides and backs of her thighs feel sticky, and she thinks it’s maybe because Ben actually finished, or maybe because she is bleeding. “Everything is going to be totally okay.”

> “A-A-Are you shuh-shuh-shuh-hure?”

> “Yes,” she says, and links her hands behind his neck, feeling the sweaty mat of his hair. “You just bet.”

> “Duh-duh-does ih-ih ... does ih-ih-ih—”

> “Shhh ...”

> It is not as it was with Ben; there is passion, but not the same kind. Being with Bill now is the best conclusion to this that there could be. He is kind; tender; just short of calm. She senses his eagerness, but it is tempered and held back by his anxiety for her, perhaps because only Bill and she herself realize what an enormous act this is, and how it must never be spoken of, not to anyone else, not even to each other.

> At the end, she is surprised by that sudden upsurge and she has time to think: Oh! It’s going to happen again, I don’t know if I can stand it—

> But her thoughts are swept away by the utter sweetness of it, and she barely hears him whispering, “I love you, Bev, I love you, I’ll always love you” saying it over and over and not stuttering at all..

> She hugs him to her and for a moment they stay that way, his smooth cheek against hers.

> He withdraws from her without saying anything and for a little while she’s alone, pulling her clothes back together, slowly putting them on, aware of a dull throbbing pain of which they, being male, will never know, aware also of a certain exhausted pleasure and the relief of having it over. There is an emptiness down there now, and although she is glad that her sex is her own again, the emptiness imparts a strange melancholy which she could never express ... except to think of bare trees under a white winter sky, empty trees, trees waiting for blackbirds to come like ministers at the end of March to preside over the death of snow.

> She finds them by groping for their hands.

> For a moment no one speaks and when someone does, it does not surprise her much that it’s Eddie. “I think when we went right two turns back, we shoulda gone left. Jeez, I knew that, but I was so sweaty and frigged up—”

> “Been frigged up your whole life, Eds,” Richie says. His voice is pleasant. The raw edge of panic is completely gone.

> “We went wrong some other places too,” Eddie says, ignoring him, “but that’s the worst one. If we can find our way back there, we just might be okay.”

Yeah, they're definately going to include this in the movie.

>but aware that she is tired now. Tired and damned sore. The insides and backs of her thighs feel sticky, and she thinks it’s maybe because Ben actually finished, or maybe because she is bleeding. “Everything is going to be totally okay.”

gonna read that shit later

but can someone give me tl;dr of why she let / forced 7 guys to run a train on her ?

or is this just a standard woman being free and liberated and enjoying her youth

Adults leave their childhood fears behind.

The children have just faced IT and are stuck in the sewers.

In order for the children to overcome their fear, they participate in an act of personal trauma and initiation which marks their passing of innocence.

This allows them share a bond and move beyond the fears of a child to become adults.

>It
>It
>It
>title of the book
Holy fuck, I finally get it after 20+ years

>not just Stephen King being a coked up pervert

You're overanalyzing senpai.

explain

Sup Forums only wants this because it lets them see BLACKED kino with plausible deniability attached.

both explanantions are not mutually exclusive

>you will never fight a monster after being raped by a prime puss

It = name of the monster
It = name kids give sex

You can put the rest together yourself.

It, as in "doing it." Think user's overreaching a little though

I dont think so. It is capitalized throughout besides being in the middle of the sentence.

> your best friend will never suck you off before being eaten my mutated bugs

What? Where did it happen

so bookfags did the movie live up to your expectations ? how would you rate it out of 10

and non-bookfags how would you rate the movie ?

They have sex after they defeat IT the first time. You posers are the worst.

stephenking.wikia.com/wiki/Patrick_Hockstetter

> On one hot summery day, Patrick, Henry, Victor and Belch were down at a local junkyard, lighting their own farts with Henry's lighter. After a while, Victor and Belch leave after a short and brief dispute with Henry. After the two leave, Patrick gives Henry a hand-job, and even boldly offers him oral sex, to which Henry replies by punching him in the mouth. Worried that Patrick might tell his friends about the incident, Henry blackmails Patrick, threatening to tell the police about his "secret fridge" down at the Junkyard. After Henry leaves, Patrick heads down to the fridge to dispose the dead animals he kept in there, only to be attacked by flying leeches (his worst fear). The parasites drink most of his blood and eventually drag away his unconscious body. By the time Patrick had awoken, It had already begun feeding on him.

Wtf, is stephen king some raging fetishist? why he keeps writing kids sex scenes?

>be a paedo
>blame it on cocaine
>make a shitload of money regardless

living the dream?

Maybe this makes sense in context.

Wait what. So is IT supposed to be a metaphor for sex?

IT=SEX

HOLY SHIT

>never read IT
>read this thread
>people talk about child group sex
>lolwtf cant be right
>google it
>litterally true

jesus

IT = DRIDER
IT = SEX

STEPHAN KING IS SAYING WE NEED TO FUCK DRIDERS

>“You have to put your thing in me, ” she says.
I came.

You people need to pick up a fucking Monster Manual if you think that thing is a drider.

Ahhhh! You get IT!?

>DRIDER

I only just met her.

Sorry mVIII but it's definitely a driderino.

What the fuck is a Drider?

centaur but minus the horse body and add a spider body

Huh. Sounds terrifying. Fuck my arachnophobia.

theres also a scene earlier in the book where shes spying on the gang of bullies in a junkyard and she sees them frotting and giving eachother reacharounds iirc

also a scene where her dad inspects her vagina to make sure her hymen is intact

It's kind of the core of every teen horror movie.

Freddy is sex

...Well, that, or we're recreating a ritual sacrifice to keep the elder gods appeased.

...

>theres also a scene earlier in the book where shes spying on the gang of bullies in a junkyard and she sees them frotting and giving eachother reacharounds
Why are bullies gay?

BEST GIRL
E
S
T

G
I
R
L

I would literally be terrified and aroused. I wonder what that actually feels like?

How do you go from this:

> It was Bill who held them together as that great black Spider raced down Its web, creating a noxious breeze that tousled their hair.... Richie found his eyes drawn to that web. Hanging here and there, partially wrapped in silken strands that seemed to move as if alive, were a number of rotted half-eaten bodies. He thought he recognized Eddie Corcoran near the ceiling, although both of Eddie’s legs and one of his arms were gone.

> Beverly and Mike clung to each other like Hansel and Gretel in the woods, watching, paralyzed, as the Spider reached the floor and scrabbled toward them, Its distorted shadow racing along beside It on the wall.

to this

so what the fuck is "IT"?

I didn't realize the creature just manifested itself into an clown, I thought that was the actual monster. Is the creature at the end what the actual monster is or is that another manifestation?

youtube.com/watch?v=6eyxicRq41g
Kids these days

prefer my vaginas with less dentata thanks!

What you've got is IT!

>:0

It absolutely makes sense with the themes of leaving behind childhood and all that. But god it is awkward

If I remember right IT is a cosmic being in the macroverse that feeds on fear. By shape shifting to their worst fears it kills and eats. IT came to earth millions of years ago cause human imagination and fear is fucking delicious. It's true form is a bright orange light that king describes as dead lights, but he kids force the image of a giant spider onto IT since they can't comprehend it's true form.
Also it's a female

Who impregnated IT?

XE

I think in the book King goes out of his way to talk about how big the fat kid's dick is, so instead of BLACKED it's going to be CHUBBED.

I'm being serious.

King was a raging alcoholic, raging coke addict, raging opiate addict, and probably tried just about everything else that came his way. He claims he can't remember writing some of his books, I believe him.

Because they are bullies.

That's not how sex works.

It's a Lovecraftian entity beyond our concept of matter. For all we know it impregnated itself. Or it's always been pregnant. Or maybe it's just some bizarre entity from Todash-space and one of the other Todash horrors fucked it, who knows.

>It's a Lovecraftian entity beyond our concept of matter.
Why do i love shit like this?

If it fucks itself and has babies then IT is hardly female like the book states.

See

You'll know when you finally have sex

Maybe the turtle

A spider, just like it says in the book.

damn that changes my perspective of the film a lot. I prefer knowing that.