&*. BEACON OF HOPE

indie georgie denbrough. based on it (2017). written by zach.

[realfor-blog]

  i think i’m gonna have to archive this blog because georgie is ... Pretty Dead (TM) 

[fucking-trashmouth-blog]

"wait, richie, can you do yoda?"

“Can I do Yoda? Are you shittin’ me? I do the best freakin’ Yoda around!” He cleared his throat, plastering a somewhat serious look on his face. Then his mouth popped open again, and he started doing his best Yoda impression——which was, coincidentally, one of his better impressions. “Size matters not, young one. No, no——take that back, I do. Small, you are! Judge you by your size, I do!”

[realfor-blog]

like this post  for an  ask  or  two from george Elmer .... 

[changedhistory-blog]

                                          ❛    ROCK & ROLL !   ❜

                                                       written by abby

[justpennywise]

The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years―if it ever did end―began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.

[realfor-blog]

Imagine modern au georgie/loser's club with iPhone(s), just snapping pictures of v pennywise to eachother on realization and n the eldritch boi just is so confused? ???? Bonus : their phone batteries die a lot faster around him / phones shut off Bonus Bonus : Ed's mom has downloaded like 6 tracker apps on Eddy's phone and Eddy is scared to look up stuff about helping Ben on his phone bc he is worried his mom will see and diagnose him with something he doesn't have or yolo

omG THIS ASK WAS ... A WHIRLWIND 

[rosalithe-blog]

cocsasuggestion:

i had to grow up before i was supposed to 

[brotherseen]

@realfor —— GEORGE DENBROUGH.

       “juh-juh—georgie,” bill starts, hands pressed against georgie’s small shoulders. he’s knelt down in front of him— bill is tall for his age— and he’s looking him in the eyes. this is serious business, his expression says, and his eyebrows lift as he waits to make sure georgie is listening. “do you kn-kn-kn-know what t-time it is?” he waits again, watches georgie’s expression ( builds up the tension ), and squeezes his shoulders. “—it’s time… to go defff-fend our territuh-tuh-tory. are you up for the challenge?” beside him, lying neatly on the bed, is a small array of toy guns. “think we can d—do it?”

[realfor-blog]

THE SOLEMNITY OF HIS FACE  matches bill’s:  in that moment,  a soldier in the grand scheme of war!   he  ALMOST  cracks a smile a couple of times -  just out of the pure humor of it all,  the  DIGNITY  with which bill recited his lines! -  but he mainly retained his  COMPOSURE  as well as a child could.  warm,  brown eyes  flit over to the  toys,  and he  NODS  strongly,  chin tipping upward.   after a moment,  hand flies up to his forehead in a  SHARP  SALUTE.  voice squeaks in it’s  childish manner as he replies:     “yes,  general.   i’d die for this country  an’ all the boys back home.  you can bet i’m the bravest of the bunch.”  okay,  he can’t help but giggle a  LITTLE BIT.    it was silly! 

[realfor-blog]

holding the brand new cat in the hat book, he smiles. 'y .. you wanna read with me?' 💖

   “YEAH,  YEAH,   YEAH!!”    enthusiasm  of a child  blossoms  in the form of  BRIGHT SMILE   &   alighted  expression!    in   QUICK BOUNDS,  georgie rushes over to his brother’s bed in response to the INVITATION,   FLINGING  himself by the other’s side.  after a moment,   he makes himself comfortable,   tucking himself  NEATLY  beneath  bill’s  arm,   warm,   brown gaze flitting from  book  to  brother to book to brother !       “ ------     okay,   go!” 

[realfor-blog]

i saw your post about modern georgie and consider - with the advanced technology they save up and get the boi a prosthetic arm

[richie voice]    THIS IS A GOFUNDME TO GET GEORGE D*NBROUGH A NEW ARM!   WE NEED TO GET THIS BOY AN ARM SO HE CAN DAB PROPERLY  AND DON’T FORGET TO DONATE TO MY IMPRESSIONS PATREON THANK YOU  @notrealenoughfor

[realfor-blog]

me:   thinks about georgie in the modern day just getting to be a kid who enjoys ~ cringey ~  children’s cartoons and disney movies  and  him getting to wear goofy backpacks and shoes with his favorite characters on them and him talking anybody’s ear off about episodes of stuff they don’t care about and drawing pictures and making  equally ~ cringey ~ ocs from age 5 until Forever  

me:  bursts into tears thinking about georgie? just getting to be a child? just georgie being Allowed to be innocent without disgusting terrible things happening to him?   just this once? 

[talesoftruth-blog]

dead people need us to remember them, even if it eats us, even if all we can do is say i’m sorry until it is as meaningless as air.

Time Travelers Wife  (via talesoftruth)

[stiffbird]

@realfor​  ❤’d for a starter !!! 

George is at his house for the very first time, and honestly he’s nervous about the state of his room. George wasn’t a messy kid, or anything, but he still doesn’t want him pulling things off of the shelves. Stan’s putting off letting the younger into his room. They stand in the kitchen as Stan slices up an apple so it’d be more manageable for the younger one. He pours a glass of juice next, it’s red so he knows it can go nowhere near his room. “We have to have the snack downstairs.” He said as he set it at the table and he pulled out the chair for Georgie. “Then I’ll show you my room and all of my books.” 

[realfor-blog]

  “OH!   THANKS.”   chin rests atop intertwined fingers,  small form bent over the table from the place where he comes to sit  TO WATCH the other’s slow movements.  after a moment,   georgie’s eyes  WANDER  --   the uris household was similar to the denbrough one in that it was   PRIM.  the kind of place you took your shoes off before entering,   the kind of place where you were a little bit afraid to   TOUCH ANYTHING   or sit anywhere.  behave,   george!  mrs. denbrough had said  FIRMLY  early that day.   in not wanting to upset stan or his family,  georgie intended to.  

georgie was doing his best to stick close to stan’s side,    unsure of what was  available for   PLAYING WITH. ( a little nervous,  honestly!   a little bit wishing that they were in a place that didn’t feel like a museum. )    smallish hand moves to take a sip of the juice.  “do you have a lot of books,   stan ??” 

[bullytm-a-deactivated20191003]

Henry’s STUCK at home, suspended from school.  JUST a week this time. Just a week for knocking  some kid out for making a remarking pass about  Georgie, although when ASKED, Henry had just  told them he didn’t like his face. So, here he is,  laying back on Georgie’s bed, feet up on the  wall and head upside down to watch his foster  brother, blowing large bubbles of juicy fruit and  watching them POP to fill in the silence. “is this  all you do all day?” He SMACKS his gum loudly,  blowing another bubble before it POPS, most  of it getting stuck to his face. He makes a face,  doing his best to start peeling it off. 

@realfor | liked. 

[realfor-blog]

  “--   YUP.   THIS IS IT.”   georgie remarks.  he’s leaning over his desk,  SCRIBBLING AWAY.  some new character to go with some new story, some new fantastical world dreamed up by  CHILDISH  MIND.  the younger throws a glance at his  BORED BROTHER  in mild humor,  brows raising slightly before he  PAUSES  in his work to turn toward him. 

  “y’know,   we could put on a movie or something.  got a bunch of tapes in the basement.”   the little one suggests. ( too young to realize the possible  WEIGHT  to henry’s record of suspensions,  just glad to have him all to himself for a week! )    “you look bored.” 

[riddleyed-blog]

❛     PICK  A  COLOR.     ❜        breathe  out  a  sigh  of  summer  breeze    /    you  have  always  been  the  peaceful  one.          never  brash  ,  never  speaking  out  of  turn.          bad  things  happen  to you  if  you  act  out.       he  takes  this  in  as  much  stride  as  he  can  manage  ,  not  that  he  can  ever  manage  much  to  begin  with.          alex  takes  the  hand  of  the  younger  boy  in  his  own  ,  surveys  small  fingers  ,  compares  his  palm  to  the  other.             ❛        but  you  can’t  tell my  mom  i  took  her  nail  polish  ,  alright    ?          she’ll  kill  me  if  she  thinks  i’m  using  the  good  stuff.     ❜

STARTER CALL:          //        @realfor

[realfor-blog]

 “MMM ...    YELLOW.”   of course,   it’s his favorite color!   eagerly,  the young boy supplies his smallish hand for the other to hold  as carefully as porcelain,  excitement tinting  his features.   he didn’t know much about  MAKEUP / NAIL POLISH  or anything of the like,   but he knew that it looked really pretty and interesting !!  after all,  why wouldn’t you want a splash of color on your skin / nails day to day?  it sounded lovely!      georgie nods strongly,  lips curving into an   O   at the other’s determined  request.    “ --   oh,  okay.   i won’t tell her!” 

[theirproject-a-blog]

                                        THE OUTSIDE IS DANGEROUS.                     it’s only in the      derry  woods      that eleven gets the creeps. she always feels like someone is      watching  her,      waiting for her to let her guard      down.      she’s sitting on the ground, watching her      younger  brother      run about, but also keeping a      look  out      around the place. there are      goosebumps      crawling along her neck.      ❛           georgie  ?           ❜ she wanted to make sure he was still      there.

@realfor  /  sc. 

[realfor-blog]

  “-----     YEAH?”   he pokes his head  around a tree,  CLOSER than eleven would perhaps  PRESUME.   georgie could always keep busy in these woods: it was his curious mind that kept him going,    his need to touch every twig & blade of grass &   hold every  BUG  in sight.    in his hands,    he held a small bouquet of  weeds and dandelions,  punctuated by wildflowers   --     a gift for  bill,   probably,    a souvenir of he and eleven’s little adventure out in the woods today.  branches snapped ‘neath tiny feet as he approached her, expression inquisitive.  “what is it?” 

[realfor-blog]

 guiltrauma:

           I WILL FOLLOW YOU INTO THE DARK.   /   wishing for blissful serenity   ..   he could not fathom.   furrowed brows steadily crest and interest peaks.   lips gradually curve upward masking corrupting guilt.   self deprecation nestling beneath hollowed bones.            ❛           —— y   ..   yeah,  he is.          ❜          softly choruses back.   carefully,  bill tucks the stuffed animal closer toward georgie.   beyond doorway,  disgruntled parents peer in before ducking out.   reminding him   ..   you should have been out there.   you should have been watching him.   this was all your fault,  william denbrough. 

          EVEN IF SAVING YOU SENDS ME TO HEAVEN.   /   still sick   ?    ..    upon inquiry,  lasting traces of influence rattle against lungs.   threatening their escape through hacking and coughing.   lips purse as bill’s swiftly swallowing back evidence of illness.          ❛           —— d   ..   don’t worry about me,  g   ..   geh   ..   georgie.   l   ..   let’s worry about y   ..   you,  okay   ?          ❜            gentle melody hums through steady heart monitors and hospital’s symphonies.             ❛           —— how are you f   ..   f   ..  feeling,  cap   ?           ❜

  “ MMM  ...      BUT I DO WORRY ABOUT YOU.”     how  is that possible,  child? you spend your days  either in the embrace of deep slumber or in unfocused consciousness!     it has not been long since the incident  occurred,  yet traces of bill’s face  linger in the forefront of georgie’s mind,   AS ALWAYS.  how could he not worry about his brother?    was there any other way for georgie denbrough to exist?        the feeling is prominent in his mind:   he’s just glad that he’s here right now.  (   he wished his brother never had to go again. )  

  HOW WAS HE FEELING?      lips curve downward,   and  eyes glance back down to the turtle  resting on his chest.   wasn’t that the question everyone wanted to know these days?     even in his state of half-consciousness,   georgie knew what had occurred to him.    the loss of his arm was the elephant crammed  in the   TINY HOSPITAL ROOM   /   the boy has half a mind to start crying over it once more.       he doesn’t respond to bill’s  question directly.   only shakes his head,   holding in all the feelings he cannot yet put words to.    too tired.     “i wanna go home,  billy.”