A little redhead qt will never hold the poem you wrote for her to her heart as she closes her eyes and thinks of you...

> A little redhead qt will never hold the poem you wrote for her to her heart as she closes her eyes and thinks of you in blissful euphoria.

This movie made me feel such feels!

very pretty here, there a webm of that scene?

Alas no, the blu ray release cannot come soon enough!

why should i write her a poem she should write me a poem

jokes on you, I had a secret relationship with my little sisters redheaded neighbor friend when she was 15 and i 18.

lol i wonder what her butthole tastes like.

i want her to get on all fours, i'll spread her ass cheeks and lick from her cunt up to her brown inner ass cheeks, then her chocolate starfish, then up to her upper butt crack. I hope it's clean

Care to elaborate?

Everyone in the cinema laughed when the poem was brought up/shown. Same with the basement scene where IT crawls to the stairs.

I laughed too.

She didn't think of the fat kid when she read it though

Jesus.

>Tattoo
dropped

why do women get tattoos? stupid cunts

That tramp stamp....

she was thinking of his fat dick.

Will mommy play her as an adult?

You shall not describe the love of my life in such lewd ways!

There's a reason they call him "big" Ben...

Mommy won't have a career in 2 years like Elba

Pics or didn't happen

You're a fat disgusting nothing though. If you'd kill yourself no one would actually miss you. People would find your body just because of its stench.

it happened. I didn't have a phone with a camera at the time thought since I'm an oldfag This was a few years after though when we reunited.

are you looking in a mirror? haha

why are you desperate to prove a sexual liaison with a minor on an anonymous television/film discussion forum of all places??

I think your notion of "desperate" differs significantly from mine.

Someone did ask him user

>posting picture of dicked slut to impress random anonymous people on the internet

>has pleb taste in females
>thinks he can comment on a Sophia thread

I prefer people like him posting than people like you thought, who only complain and try to ruin the fun of everyone.

You should leave

you don't have anything better to do than weakly baiting on a sunday?

> swn turn up at your house one evening after her dad beat her again
> swn ask if she can stay over
> ywn give her an old oversized t shirt to wear to bed
> ywn try not to notice how cute she looks in it, or how it barely covers her little white panties.
> swn wake you up and 3am saying she had another nightmare.
>swn sheepishly ask if she can sleep in your bed tonight
> ywn try to play it cool and pretend that this is anything less than the greatest thing that has ever happened in your young life.
> swn climb into bed and get unusually close to you.
> ywn feel her skin brush against yours and listen to the soft sound of her breathing mixing with the crickets outside
>twn be a small suspenseful pause as you soak in each others presence.
>ywn take a bold leap of faith and reach out to pull her closer
>swn silently accept your advances and pull her tight little body into yours
>swn let out a small contented sigh as you wrap your arms around her.
>ywn try not to notice her soft young breasts against your chest, or feel her smooth firm thighs brush against your legs
>ywn fall into a peaceful deep sleep with her
>ywn wake up to her giggling in her sleep and gently nuzzling you.
>ywn lie in bed awake for half an hour, just listening to her sighs, feeling her chest moving up and down against yours and her warm breath on your neck.
>ywn bring her breakfast in bed
>swn tell you how safe she feels in your arms

Honestly anons, what is even the point anymore?

Who else /JerkedOffInTheTheater/ here?

What else is the back row for?

Why are you keep spamming some random children you retarded faggot pedo?

>Honestly anons, what is even the point anymore?
I DON'T KNOW

This, at least spam some hot children you fucking retards

Sick fuck.

I think you must have me confused with someone else. I haven't posted in days.

>A little redhead qt will never hold you close as you empty your balls for the first time in her quivering vagina mixing it with your 5 best friends loads creating supersperm

:(

i got a little choked up when she signed his year book. i know that feel.

I remember the girl I liked signed my yearbook and gave me her number in it.
I spaghetti'ed and never called her.

This a whole new level of autism user

Even I would've followed through on that.
Jesus user.

Tfw you realise you are jealous of a kid who lost his virginity as (very) sloppy sixths in a gangbang in a fucking sewer.

I can't buy her as a loser. She is pure, personified sex. She would be the biggest Stacy in town. Old Beverly was more believable

>That tramp stamp....
idiot

>tfw you"ll never gangbang some tight redhead pooper with your Bros in a sewer

...

The way I remember it, often the average girls would close ranks and shit on the hottest girl out of jealously. Particularly if there were slutty rumors going round about them

>unable to precisely identify degenerate identifiers

Oh no, how will I even live?

Is this what love feels like?

thank god

That wink tho...

>that webm
NAME? SAUCE?

Beverly came from a lower class family so the popular girls shut her out and once she became hot they started picking on her because they were deeply jealous of her beauty. This is how tween/teen girls work, user.
This

Just what Was that key all about?

That wasn't the reason dipshit, quit making shit up.

You're the dipshit, it's very obvious why Beverly was an outcast. This kind of shit happens all the time in real life.

SAUCE

What was the reason then Senpai?

Stop thinking like a horny manchild. If you think like a teenage girl for one second you'll figure out why Bev was bullied by the other girls. Stacies love to form cliques and tear down prettier girls.

why god why god do I have to suffer

>implying this has never happened to me

It's always funny to me how utterly bereft you channers are.

>beta fat kid writes her a poem
>she loves it because she thinks the guy she likes wrote it
Yeah, no thanks. Writing anonymously is retarded.

I want sophia to be the mother of my children in a very happy marriage.

But that has happened to me, more than once. Never a redhead but I don't particularly like gingers anyway

Post your poetry.

I think it was accurate to make a good looking girl be the victim of bullying by other girls. I don't think it's accurate to make a good looking girl hang out with losers no matter how much of a loser she is, though.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Sophia Lill's;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Sophia Lill's;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Sophia Lill's;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

She's the gatekeeper.

So you get girls wet by ripping off Poe?

Poe got a 10 y/o wife, so I'm following his steps.

I thought she was 13?

I hope so.

Shiet

Has tongue girl gone nude yet?

...

>it's a "girl who looks like a high school freshman or sophomore talks with a 5th grade boy" scene

Seriously, why did they cast a straight up chubbster who looks like he'd be 3 or 4 grades behind her? I know girls develop sooner but this is ridiculous

...

jegg

Do cute girls ever hang out with loser guys? From my experience only ugly or below average girls hang out with losers in real life and that's enough for loser guys because just having a girl there is enough.
If good looking girls hang out with guys, no matter how "bullied" or "called a slut" the girls are, they will choose the popular or allegedly good looking guys to hang out with, not the loser guys.
And no, don't post that webm with the 2 losers and the qt black haired girl because that's staged and not real.

What a loser.

Loved the film as much as the next guy but holy fuck the water scene with that music was so above and beyond the rest of it.

monkey girl isn't cute though, so it's fitting she's hanging out with the losers.

This is one of the cases where I can't tell if she was meant to be pretty in general or just pretty by the loser kids' standards.

She's odd looking.

I mean the losers would probably consider any non-bese girl to be pretty, but according to the pedos on Sup Forums she's supermodel tier.
I just find her odd-looking and not very cute. Reminds me of Raggedy Ann for some reason.

Leave this place

All elbows, knees and chin. Reminds me of moot.

>no one will ever look at you like this
Just end it now, fampai.

Isn't it annoying how obvious her clip-on ponytail is?

If we're talking about dating then yeah 9 times out of 10 you'd be right, but when it comes to hanging out with friends outcasts tended to stick together at my school.

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—could it 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.

If you don't f*cking DELETE THIS right the frig now...

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. 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.

I think part of the whole thing is that she's unconventionaly attractive rather than some straight up supermodel.

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—she feels 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: 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—suddenly the 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.”

“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—part of 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.

but that's the thing. She isn't unconventionally attractive. She just looks odd, with an ugly pixie cut and a face that suspiciously resembles a clown.

“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.”

there was a guy who made posts like this with music on /r9k/ it was very depressing