#doctor beverly approves of your brain

[pixiereblogs]

Pixie Recaps Picard | The Bounty

[asteriismos]

gold dust woman - richie tozier

warning(s) : smut, eighteen! losers, loss of virginity, masterbation, probably more

words : 3.3k

summary : innocent reader asks richie tozier for help

your mother always told you that a good woman was a traditional woman. 

a woman who crosses her legs when sitting, doesn't swear, says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. your mom was a housewife, no job only to take care of the kids and the house. and her mother before that was the same, but the times were changing, it was easy to see that. girls went to school just as long as guys did and they were allowed to participate in sports. they would go to college and learn and support themselves if that’s what they wanted. no matter how many times you tried to tell your mom this, she would dismiss you and tell you that it was her house, her rules.

you had lived in derry your entire life, making friends with the stanley uris in your ‘accelerated’ math class in sixth grade. stanley introduced you to bill and eddie, who introduced you to richie tozier. 

you were always fascinated by richie tozier. he wasn’t afraid of saying the wrong thing and if he did, he didn’t care. he was a loudmouth and swore whenever he wanted to. you knew that it was wrong for you to want to do those things, because that’s what your mother always said. she didn’t like that you hung out with mainly boys because she said that always led to trouble, she said that they would take advantage of you. but the losers were just your friends, they made you laugh and smile. 

that was your first act of rebellion against your mother. even just at eleven years old.

as you grew older, you stayed by your friends side. you sympathized with eddie because both of you had overbearing mothers, who surprisingly became friends after meeting in the supermarket one day. freshman year rolled along and you were exposed to the wonders of teenage life. you could remember the first time that richie brought weed to one of the losers hangouts and you were the only one who didn’t try it. because you were just like that. no one pressured you, but richie did his fair share of teasing. you didn’t drink either, even if it was just a glass of wine that beverly would have when you came over to her house when her dad wasn’t there. 

you were convinced that if you tried those things once, your mother would know. she would find out and then you would be locked in your house until you were twenty five. 

it wasn’t until junior year of high school that you rebelled against your mother again, which was having a crush on a boy that she didn’t approve of. she was always trying to get you to go on dates with boys from the catholic school in bangor that she sometimes volunteered at. you didn’t like any of them. you liked the one boy that she despised : richie. your mother hated him, he was everything that she disliked in a boy and that made him that much more hotter to you. 

richie knew that you liked him. it really wasn’t that hard to tell. the way that you would giggle after he made a joke, or how your eyes would always meet his first if the group went swimming. he wanted you, he wanted you a whole lot but as far as he knew, he couldn’t have you. because he didn’t want to ruin your innocence. richie loved you for who you were, and he didn’t want to be the catalyst for the impending rebellion you would have for rebelling against your mother. 

you were like a delicate flower, and richie knew that if he had you in the palm of his hands for even a second, you would be crushed. 

that didn’t mean that he couldn’t fantasize though. there have been multiple times where he would look at your legs that you showed while wearing a skirt and he would think about running his hands along them, hearing those breathless moans coming from your lips. 

you didn't know how to flirt properly, it always ended with red cheeks and embarrassed smiles cast his way. you felt a little helpless, not knowing how to get rid of the ache you had for richie. you confided in stanley about it and he told you that richie was interested in you and just that made you feel bashful. you didn’t know what to do to get him, it was all confusing. 

then you devised a plan with beverly to finally get him. it was naughty and felt so wrong, but beverly understood. she had seen the unrequited feelings from both of you for too long. she was the one who took you to the doctor to get birth control pills when your period cramps were too hard to control and your mother said you just had to deal with it. she was the one who basically told you what sex was. 

since you got older, your mother has gotten used to letting you stay home alone. and you knew from endless amounts of snooping that she was seeing some other man, which made sense considering she had been alone for so long since your dad died when you were little. she left you home alone for nights, always friday nights and she would come back saturday night.

you had invited richie over earlier that day at school. you were so nervous for this encounter that you couldn’t think about anything else. all you did was pace back and forth up and down the stairs of your house and in and out every single room. you did this for at least a half and hour before the doorbell rang and you felt your stomach drop. 

putting a smile on your face, you opened the door to be met with richie. he was wearing one of his old band tees and black jeans, hands fiddling anxiously with the hem of his shirt. “hey, rich,” you greeted, motioning for him to come into the house. you felt him take a look in and search around. “don’t worry. my moms gone for the night.” you laughed, thinking back to the last time her and richie encountered each other. it was a lot of yelling from your mothers end and a lot of ‘what the hell did I do’s’ from richie. 

only your mother could get mad at a boy just breathing in your direction. 

“good, I really wasn’t planning on dying today,” richie replied, taking a breath of relief and walking into your house. he took off his shoes and gave you a look, wondering why he was here with you alone. this has never happened before and it seemed so unlike you. his heart was practically beating out of his chest. 

you looked at him. “well, don’t look too nervous. Jesus richie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something. come on, let’s go up to my room,” you said, leading him all the way up to your room. richie walked into your room first, back turned away from you. 

your room was a mixture of pink and purple hues, it was probably the most innocent looking rooms that he has ever been in. it was so clean and it smelled like a mixture of lavender and vanilla, the smell that you always smelled like no matter the day. it was intoxicating, richie felt like he was on an endless high just from your presence. if only you knew the effect you had on him. 

richie was still turned away from you, hearing the door close didn’t really mind to him. it was when he was admiring the bookshelf you had in the corner of the room when he heard the noise of something dropping to the floor that caught his attention. he turned around to be met with you shirtless, the only thing separating his eyes from your full chest was your pink frilly bra ( that you borrowed from bev, but he didn’t have to know that ). richie’s eyes widened and his first instinct was to look away because well . . . you’re y/n. he’s seen a multitude of girls naked but he didn’t feel the same way that he felt about them that he did with you. 

you were the epitome of innocence and here you were, standing in just a bra and those short black shorts that you only wore to go swimming in the quarry. 

“y/n. . .” richie said, trailing off with his words when you took a step towards you. your skin looked so vibrant and soft and all richie wanted to do was touch you. “what-what are you doing?” 

you bit your lip, pushing those black shorts down your legs and stepping out of them. you were wearing your own pink undies, lace on the top of them with a little bow in the center right under your exposed stomach. you felt the cold air of your house on your skin and that only edged you on more, keeping your soft eyes on richie. “I don’t know what I'm doing. and college is going to be soon and I don’t want to be inexperienced,” you started. it was the only excuse that you could think of in the moment. “so I was wondering if you would teach me.”

richie’s brain felt like it was malfunctioning. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve of it and cataloging it for later. you were so beautiful, richie knew that he was absolutely fucked. 

the need was growing too large for him to handle. 

I was wondering if you could teach me. you could teach me. teach me. 

teach me. 

“are you sure?” richie asked you, walking forward until he was only an inch away from you. his hand reached up and pushed your hair behind your ear, making you shiver at the feeling. his fingers came to your shoulder, fiddling with your bra strap. his touches were so light but you felt like you were on fire. 

you nodded, standing on your tippy toes and kissing him. you held him by the back of his neck and leaned your body all the way into his. he tasted like cigarettes and cherries from his lunch earlier, it was intoxicating and you knew you could spend a lifetime just kissing him. but the desire burning in the pit of your stomach wasn’t going to hold back much longer. you didn’t know what you were doing or if you were even doing it correctly. 

richie pulled away from you, deciding that you kissing him was his open invitation to ravish you. his hands were strong as they reached for your exposed sides and pushed you towards the bed, going to the small of your back to help you down onto the soft pink fabric. he stayed at the edge, looking at your body and then saying, “do you touch yourself?”

your cheeks burned red for the first time since richie had been in your room. he was asking such a personal question to you and you knew that he wouldn’t let you brush off the question. you were embarrassed to tell him that you did in fact touch yourself and when you were really getting into it, you imagined that it was his fingers instead of your own. it was always late at night because your mother would kill you if she saw you or heard your soft moans that you did into a pillow stuffed in your face. 

“yes.”

it was a soft yes and richie wasn’t even sure if you really said anything or it was just his imagination taking over. the mere thought of you sitting in this pink bed with those frilly underpants getting off with just your hand was making him go crazy. richie gave you a cocky grin, “show me then.”

you were confused at what he was asking, until it dawned on you that he wanted to watch you touch yourself in front of him. if you weren’t blushing all the way before, you surely were now. his eyes never left you, he didn’t laugh after saying it. he was serious. there was lust in his eyes. 

in a surge of confidence, you leaned yourself against your headboard and slowly spread your legs, exposing yourself to him. you saw him breath in and out, eyes trailing down to your heat. your hands came up to your breasts, giving them a squeeze and whining out. you let one stay there while the other trailed down your stomach, fingertips just dancing along the skin. you allowed for that hand to dip under your pink panties and touch your clit, making you gasp. your eyes screwed shut, massaging figure eights on yourself. 

you felt hands on your hipbones and you snapped your eyes open, seeing richie lean over you. his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled them off of you, leaving your bottom half fully exposed to him. you continued to rub at your clit while he said, “I had to get those out of the way to see you, pretty girl.”

those words edged you on, bringing your fingers lower down to tease at your entrance. in one swift movement you were plunging two fingers into you, already slick with your wetness when you pulled them out and repeated the action. you took a peek at richie and saw that his mouth was open, palming himself through his pants. fuck, he’s so hot. you must be doing something right if you got him this worked up. 

your thumb pressed against your folds while you pumped in slowly, moaning loudly now that your mom wasn’t there to catch you. if you closed your eyes you could almost imagine that it was richie doing it, though him watching you was becoming one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 

“richie,” you moaned out, looking at him. “please.” you kept pushing in and out while your hips rolled against your hand. you didn’t have to beg too much, because he was pulling off his shirt and undoing his belt and pushing his pants down at lighting speed. you could see his hard on right through his grey boxers, making that pit in your stomach get wider. the sheer fact that he wanted you made you go crazy. 

richie got on the bed, the motion of the bed dipping with his weight made you all too aware of what was about to come. his hand was swatting yours away from your entrance and he replaced it with his own, making you hiss out in pleasure at the two fingers that ran down your clit, then trailed down and plunged into you. his fingers were much bigger than your own, making your walls clenching around them that much more enjoyable. 

you were moaning his name and richie swore he could listen to that on repeat and he’d never get tired of it. his hand pulled away from yours and you watched as he pushed his boxers down off of him, grabbing himself and giving it a good few pumps. you gave him a look and tentatively grabbed his dick, repeating the motion that he had. your hands were so soft, so much better than his own that richie couldn’t control the low guttural moan that left him. your stomach was doing flips, licking your lips and waiting for him. 

“I don’t have a condom on me, y/n,” richie muttered, realizing that you two were fucked. if he knew that he would be fucking you today, he would’ve come a little bit more prepared. 

you grabbed him and kissed him again, pulling away and leaning your forehead against his own. “I'm on the pill, it’s okay,” you whispered, giving him an anxious smile. “bev went with me to get it a few months ago.” richie laughed, realizing that bev was more of a mother to you than your actual mother was. he nodded, taking a large breath. 

you unclipped your bra, throwing it across the room and laying on your back, waiting for him to do something, anything. you were so wet at this point at the thought of finally having sex with richie. your mother always virginity this really big thing, and to you it was. but you didn’t want to wait until marriage, you wanted richie and you wanted him now. 

richie aligned yourself with your entrance, pressing the tip just in a little bit and capturing you in a kiss as he pushed all the way in. his kisses helped soothe you through the feeling of him stretching you out. he was thick and tears welled up in your eyes at the pinging pain. he stalled in you for just a moment to let you adjust, then moved out and pushed in again. he felt like he was in heaven, you were the tightest thing that he had ever experienced and it took all in him not to just start fucking you as roughly as he could. 

“fuck, you’re so perfect,” richie spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek and burying his face into the crook of your neck. your hands held his shoulders, squeezing them every once in a while when he hit just the right spot in you. at this point the pain was gone and it was replaced with earth shattering pleasure that you knew you’d never get tired of. his words brought heat to your cheeks, along with the dirty words that he whispered into your ear with every rut of his hips. 

your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to keep him as close to you as you could. the pit in your stomach was growing from where it left off from richie’s and your own fingers, you knew you weren’t going to last long. a part of you felt embarrassed that you weren’t. then you remembered that you were with richie, someone who wouldn’t judge you for something like that. you trusted him, and felt safe in his arms. 

your moans became more high pitched and richie knew you were close, he pushed your legs up by their thighs and hit a different, deeper angle. a few thrusts later you were cumming in his arms, heaving in and out with your heart pounding against your ribcage uncontrollably. 

you mewled out as richie still rutted his hips against yours, the lewd sound making your face scrunch up. you rolled your hips in the motion of his and he moaned out, and when you did it again he was cumming inside you. you felt the hot liquid spurt and spread within you and the feeling made you make a small noise. once richie was done, he pulled out of you and watched as it spilled out of you. he felt dirty, fucking you in your pink frilly bed in the room with the scented candles. he loved it, however dirty it was. 

and you felt like you had rebelled against your mother in the crudest way you could, and got satisfied beyond belief by it. 

richie moved to get off the bed and you grabbed him by his wrist. “don’t go, please?” 

he laughed, leaning and kissing your hipbone. “I wouldn’t in a heartbeat sugar, I just have to get something to clean you off.” 

he moved all the way off and left the room towards the bathroom, and when he returned he wiped a towel in between your legs. you squirmed a little bit, still a little sensitive. while he was standing, he pulled his boxers up and got back on the bed with you. his arms wrapped around your body, snuggling into your side. 

a few minutes rolled by and richie looked to see your face as he asked, “why did you let me do it? I mean, instead of one of the other’s?”

“I like you richie,” you admitted. “I think that’s a little obvious.”

richie gave you a big toothy grin, shaking his head with a laugh. he didn’t even have to speak for you to know that he liked you too. he was finally yours, regardless of what anyone or your mother thought. 

yours.

[reddieorrnot]

18? — pasteleddiekaspbrak

i know this trails off a bit, but i hope it’s still good!

number 18 from this list

“I think this would look so cute on you!”

Eddie’s head snapped up from the pants he was previously looking at, and saw Beverly holding up a baby pink t-shirt, with a butterfly embroidered on the chest. 

He knew that bringing Beverly along to his shopping trip at the mall would be a good idea, she always had such a good eye for fashion. Originally, Richie was supposed to tag along. But he had an appointment to get new glasses. 

The foolish boy had broken his old ones in half while skating home from school the day before. Eddie had been with him, and watching Richie take the trip and fall made his heart ache. But the second Richie made a joke about how much Eddie cared, Eddie pretended to walk away from the scene. Richie’s begging for Eddie’s medical assistance brought him right back, though.  

“It’s really pretty, Bev,” Eddie grinned and walked over to her, touching the fabric. It was incredibly soft, and Eddie had no doubts about making this purchase. 

“Try it on!” Beverly urged him, pushing him lightly toward the fitting rooms. With a light laugh, Eddie accepted and went to try on the shirt. He made his way, and entered one of the rooms. Slipping off his shirt, Eddie stared at himself in the mirror for a second, taking in his attributes. As a younger teen, Eddie had always been so skinny, convincing himself he was weak. Out of the desire to change how he viewed his strength, Eddie had started working out more. He offered to spend some days with Mike, helping him at the farm. Mike always made sure to give Eddie the cleaner jobs but ones that still produced more muscle definition over time. And over a few months, the chores had done their job. That’s why Eddie smiled at his reflection, feeling satisfied with how he looked. He also hadn’t minded it whenever the group of friends went to the quarry, and he’d catch Richie gaping at his shirtless image. While Eddie didn’t like to think about what it meant, he sure liked thinking about Richie’s shocked expression. 

Slipping on the clothing, Eddie already knew he loved the article. It fit him incredibly well, and made him feel like he looked adorable. He ran his fingers along the butterfly a few times, then pulled back the fitting room’s curtain to show Beverly, who had been patiently waiting outside.

“Oh, Eddie!” She squealed, jumping up onto her feet from the chair she had been in. “It looks amazing! I bet Richie would agree,” She gave him a sly wink. Eddie hoped how hot his cheeks got wasn’t visible, and simply replied to Beverly with an eye roll as he pulled the curtain shut. 

After taking the t-shirt off and checking out, he and Beverly made their way to a nearby frozen yogurt stand. They planned on just grabbing cups to go and heading home. Eddie stuck with more simple flavors, such as vanilla, strawberry, and occasionally chocolate. But he knew that was bad for your skin, it all was, but especially chocolate. Beverly, on the other hand, got nearly every flavor. Eddie’s face scrunched up in disgust as he watched Beverly pull the lever on “Blueberry blast”. 

“You know that’s like, all artificial, right?” He told his friend as they walked up to the cashier. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” She giggled, taking his cup, signaling she was covering for both of them. Usually, Eddie wouldn’t allow it, but he had just bought something and wasn’t feeling up to spending any more money. He gave her a kind smile, one that indicated thankfulness. 

As they walked out of the mall, frozen yogurt cups in their hands, Eddie felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. 

“Can you grab my phone?” He asked Beverly, his hands being full. She complied with a nod, then got his phone for him. She took the bag from his hand, exchanging it with his phone. It was lit up, and on the screen was a text from Richie.

“ditch bev, come hang out at my place w me :(((“ 

Without thinking, Eddie grinned at his phone. This meant that Richie was back from getting new glasses. Richie wanting to be with him made his heart flutter in ways he knew it shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help a lot of things he did or thought about when it came to Richie.

Beverly noticed the look on Eddie’s face, recognizing it as something she’d seen many times before. 

As they got in the car, Beverly driving, Eddie texted a reply to Richie.

“No need to ditch, just finished shopping. Can I ask her to drop me off at your place?”

Quicker than expected, Eddie’s phone buzzed again. 

“yes PLEASE” 

Eddie giggled, which made Beverly speak up.

“I know you’re texting Richie,” She told him, not looking away from the road. Eddie looked at her, embarrassed. Then shook his head.

“You don’t know anything.” 

“Sure, sure I don’t,” She smirked, “So… am I dropping you off at your house?”

Her tone suggested that she knew she didn’t need to ask that, and that she knew Eddie’s reply even before he answered. Which he did so with an annoyed huff. 

“No, Richie’s,” He mumbled merely above a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” 

“Richie’s, you heard me now?” He groaned.

“Loud and clear, no need to be cranky!” 

Beverly’s playful tone made it hard not to be amused, but Eddie still managed. She carried the conversation on, talking about how excited she was for later plans with Ben, and how they were going out to go see a movie. It all sounded so sweet, and Eddie loved seeing the smile that appeared on her face whenever she spoke of their friend. It went like that the whole drive to Richie’s, Eddie mainly listening. It was okay, anything was better than Beverly teasing him. Once he had finished his frozen yogurt, Beverly had offered to just throw the cup away for him when she got home, he thanked her. As they pulled up to the Tozier house, she said nothing, just shooting Eddie a wink as he waved goodbye to her from outside of the car. Eddie acted like he hadn’t seen it.

Walking up to the front door, Eddie thought about how much he truly loved Richie’s family and his home. Maggie Tozier always treated him so kindly, and behaved as if he had always been apart of the family. Went was the same, always making jokes with Eddie, and picking on Richie alongside. Richie liked to comment on how he didn’t know whether Eddie was his best friend or his parents. He knew Richie was just kidding around, but the idea of him even making that joke made Eddie feel so welcomed and safe. It had always felt like some sort of sacred haven of peace when Eddie was a kid, where there was no Sonia Kaspbrak to yell at him because his shoes had gotten dirty. If his shoes had indeed ever gotten dirt on them, he always walked with Richie to his house first, where Richie’s mother would offer to clean them off. Then afterward, he would go home, looking as clean as he had before he had left the house. This convinced his mother that he wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything she wouldn’t approve of. He absolutely adored coming over.

He adored it even more when Maggie’s familiar face opened up the door greeting him enthusiastically. 

“Eddie!” She pulled him in for a hug, causing the plastic bag in his hand to make a noise. Pulling away from the hug, Maggie joked, “Bought something for me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Eddie laughed, feeling the smallest amount of guilt, even if he knew she was just fooling around, “Next time, Mrs. Tozier. Just came back from the mall with Beverly.”

“I miss her so much! She doesn’t come around here enough, tell her she’s still as welcome as always!” 

Eddie beamed, and made a mental note to let Beverly know what Maggie had said. 

“Richie’s in his room, I believe. Just head on up there.”

With a nod, Eddie went up to the staircase and in the direction of Richie’s room. 

Eddie had always been so fascinated with Richie’s room. He had never seen something so alike to the inhabitant's personality. There were posters essentially all over the walls, along with photographs and magazine cut-outs. Not the types of magazines where all the woman wore bikinis, but the ones with his favorite bands or singers. While it wasn’t necessarily messy, it wasn’t organized to anyone but Richie himself. Eddie, personally, wouldn’t be able to find a thing in Richie’s room without help. But Richie? You could ask him for a pin and he’d know exactly where to look. It was impressive, Eddie had thought. 

Eddie knocked on Richie’s room door and heard the familiar voice. 

“Has my Eds arrived?”

Opening the door, Eddie replied, “No, but Eddie’s here.”

Richie was sitting on his bed, a comic book in hand. As he looked up to Eddie, everything in the world stopped. 

Richie wasn’t wearing his old glasses, the ones that had broken. But he wasn’t wearing his new glasses either, the ones he was supposed to have gotten earlier today. Yet, even at the absence of glasses, Richie wasn't helplessly squinting. And maybe that’s why Eddie had never noticed how blue his best friend's eyes were. How Eddie swore he could see the most beautiful sky in Richie's eyes, and how all he wanted was to be laying down on the grass, looking at that exact sky. But that wasn’t all, Eddie swore he saw the clearest ocean as well. One where just hearing the waves crash made all of Eddie’s problems disappear, and all that mattered was Richie. 

“You like ‘em?” Richie laughed.

“Huh?” Eddie answered, confused. He dropped his bag by the door and walked over to Richie’s bed, sitting beside him. The desire to just drown in Riche’s eyes only grew stronger as Eddie moved closer. 

“My contacts! When I went to the eye doctor, he gave me new glasses, but also these things,” Richie pointed to his contacts, “They feel a little funny at first, but I can see without annoying ass glasses in the way.” 

Eddie swallowed nervously, “Yeah.”

“So? You like ‘em?” Richie looked like a child waiting for candy, excited to hear Eddie’s reply. This was one of those moments where Eddie didn’t think through what he said. His brain just decided it was confident enough itself to let the next words he said spill out from his mouth.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

He must’ve not been expecting something like that, because Richie’s eyes widened and his face got red. Eddie was sure he had crossed some line. Richie called Eddie cute and pretty all the time, but maybe that was a thing only he could do because he was always kidding. Maybe Eddie couldn’t say that stuff… because they both must have known he wasn’t kidding. Eddie went to back up, make some joke to cover it all up, but Richie spoke first. His tone was bashful, full of flattery.

“Gee, Eds. I don’t even know what to say, that was so sweet.” 

Thankful for nothing bad happening, Eddie didn’t risk anything further. He didn’t even say anything on the nickname. 

“Yeah, well, I’m like that sometimes,” He told Richie with a shrug. 

Richie’s flushed complexion wasn’t diminished though, as he had a dumb grin on while looking at Eddie. Desperate to get the attention off what he said, Eddie thought of the first topic change he could.

“I bought a new t-shirt today.” 

“Ooo, where is it? In that bag?” 

Eddie nodded, getting up and walking over to where he had dropped his shopping bag. He bent over to grab the t-shirt, and if he had turned around fast enough, he would have seen Richie getting red all over again at the sight of Eddie in that position. 

As he walked back to the bed, Eddie unfolded the shirt and held it out, showing it off. 

“It’s real cute, just like you.” 

“Oh, shut it, Rich,” But Eddie knew he didn’t mean it. He considered what he was going to say next, then just blurted it out. “Want me to try it on? So you can see how it looks?”

Richie only stared at him, making Eddie nervous.

“Only… Only Beverly saw me with it on, and sometimes she doesn’t… she doesn’t really tell me when something doesn’t look good. And I wanna make sure it looks good?” Eddie tried to make sense of his words, but the way he trailed off and looked anywhere but Richie betrayed him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Richie finally said, tone hushed and breathy. 

Eddie nodded, putting the shirt down, and slowly grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it up, over his head. He let his eyes fall on Richie, before he grabbed his new t-shirt, and Eddie would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t see how Richie was looking at him. With his eyes dark and his mouth slightly agape, staring at Eddie’s bare chest. Eddie felt his hands get sweaty, realizing the silence between them. Even if he had wanted to make a move, which a small part of him did long to do, Richie seemed too in trance to do so. The concept would have made Eddie laugh if he hadn’t been so nervous. So he finally pulled on the shirt that he had been clutching, and clutching hard, he realized. 

“How does it look?” He finally managed to say, not looking at Richie but instead the floor.

There was a beat of stillness in the air.

“It looks good. But you, you look beautiful.” 

Eddie looked back up, expecting this to be one of Richie’s countless jokes. But what he saw instead was nothing but honesty in those stunning blue eyes.

Eddie so, so, extremely fucked.

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of medical issues (which I based on research, so may be inaccurate) and use of a gay slur

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood.

Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie.

Chapter VI: Something very odd is happening to Richie and Eddie's daughter. Richie tries to understand what it all means.

Richie Tozier was quite familiar with fear.

It had been a constant companion throughout most of his life, a close friend to his anxiety. He had felt fear all during that fateful summer in ‘89; when he had seen his own face staring up from a missing child poster; when Eddie had broken his arm and couldn’t stop screaming as the clown stalked closer and closer; when he was in college and suddenly gay-bashing was all over the news and he just kept his head down and said nothing; when he had first stepped on stage; when he had finally come out to his family; when Mike had called to bring him back to Derry; when he had confessed his feelings to Eddie in that hospital; and when he and Eddie had finally been told they had been approved for adoption.

But, he discovered, he had only known true terror twice.

Once, when Eddie’s eyes had dimmed as he bled out in his arms in the bowels of Derry.

Second, when he walked into his youngest daughter’s bedroom, and watched her face slacken, her body stiffen unnaturally, and her tiny body collapse onto the floor.

He stared at his bedroom ceiling and tried to make sense of the day but it was all one panic-stricken blur. He vaguely recalled gathering his daughter into his arms, her body impossibly light and limp, and then, seemingly in a blink, he was standing in the ER, Eddie and the doctors both asking him question after question of what happened, what did he see, what had she said, had she eaten anything, did she hit her head on the ground?

The only thing he remembered clearly was the feeling of overwhelming relief when Tess had opened her eyes and, in an extremely puzzled voice, asked why he was crying.

Richie took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, staring at the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep?” Eddie whispered.

Richie shook his head. Eddie reached his arm over Tess, who was sleeping peacefully between them, and rested his hand over Richie’s heart.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “we’re gonna get through this.”

Richie scrubbed his hand over his face. He swallowed, trying desperately to not give way to tears.

“Rich…”

“How are you so fucking calm about this?” he asked blankly.

Eddie huffed a quiet laugh.

“I’m not,” he replied, glancing down at their sleeping daughter.

Richie took his hand away from his face and gazed at his husband. He had to admit, even in waning blue darkness, he could see the thrumming anxiety under Eddie’s skin. He sighed again.

“What are we gonna do, Eds?”

“We can’t know until we get the EEG results back.”

Richie closed his eyes and tried to push the image of their tiny daughter on the big hospital bed, electrodes attached to her head, out of his mind. Eddie smoothed his hand on his chest in a little circle.

“No matter what, we can’t let them see us freak out, alright?” he whispered.

Richie nodded, turned onto his side, and laid a gentle arm over their daughter, his hand on Eddie’s side. Neither man slept for the rest of the night.

“I had no idea there were so many different kinds of seizures,” Eddie muttered, flipping through the packets of papers the nurse had handed to them in the waiting room.

Richie said nothing, his arms merely tightened around Tess as she sat on his lap, preoccupied with her father’s old, still working Game Boy Color in her hands.

“And it could be from anything,” Eddie continued, turning to another page. “Allergies, a fever, epilepsy, autism. I mean…” he sighed and closed the pamphlet, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He dropped his hand and gazed up at Richie. “Are you okay?”

Richie shook his head, his jaw clenched and his back ramrod straight.

“Rich, we’ll—”

The examination room door opened and the doctor, a pleasant-looking woman with a smile on her face and a tiny stuffed rabbit in her hands, walked in. Eddie smiled in response and shook her hand but Richie didn’t move. He could never remember her name.

“Hi, Tess,” she said happily. “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay,” Tess said quietly, a dubious look on her face.

“Good, I’m happy to hear that,” she said. “You’ve been very brave these last few days. So we have a treat for you.”

She leaned forward and held the stuffed rabbit out to Tess, who looked at it longingly before turning her gaze up to her father.

“Go on, it’s a gift for you,” Eddie said, smiling gently.

Tess grinned and grabbed the rabbit, clutching it to her chest.

“What do you say, Tess?”

“Thank you,” she whispered shyly.

The doctor smiled and straightened.

“And you two,” she said, looking at Richie and Eddie, “how are you doing?”

Richie remained silent as Eddie replied, “We’re getting by.”

“Good, good,” the doctor replied. “I’m sure you both are anxious but I have good news. As far as we can tell, there was no physical reason for her seizure. Nothing in her brain as far as the tests show.”

Richie exhaled a breath and collapsed in on himself, feeling suddenly as if he just ran a marathon. Eddie’s hand on his arm tightened.

“Then why did she have one?” Richie asked.

“As I’m sure you’ve seen, there are a great many reasons why a child may experience a seizure,” the doctor sighed. She glanced down at a chart in her hands. “I understand you’ve had Tess in therapy for anxiety issues?”

Both men nodded. Richie swallowed and felt oddly guilty, as if Tess had inherited his own anxiety disorder.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was related to that,” she explained. “An extreme sort of panic attack. Where there any triggers that day? Perhaps something that put her out of comfort zone?”

“We were just taking the kids to their cousin’s little league game,” Eddie explained. “Nothing too out of the order.”

“But anxiety doesn’t need a reason,” Richie muttered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Eddie gaze at him. The doctor nodded.

“I would keep an eye on her to see if her anxiety triggers another episode like this,” she said.

“Another one?” Richie repeated, stunned. “We’re just supposed to wait around until she has another one?”

“Based on the test results and her history, I doubt she will have another one like that,” she said gently.

“And what if she does? What then?”

“We bring her back to the hospital,” Eddie said softly.

Richie stared at his husband, his eyes wide.

“That’s it?” he asked, hoarsely. “That’s all we can do?”

“If she does have more episodes like this one, then we could look into medication but I really think this was an anomaly,” the doctor continued.

“That’s your guess,” Richie claimed.

“Richie—”

“And you’re just accepting it?” he asked Eddie wildly.

“The tests don’t show anything physical,” Eddie repeated.

Richie sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. After a moment’s silence, the doctor and Eddie began speaking again, discussing plans and ideas and what to do in the future. Richie ignored them. A soft kiss at his chin, and he looked down. Tess was holding the rabbit up, pressing it against his face.

“It’s okay, Papa,” she said.

Tears sprang to his eyes. He smiled at his daughter.

“So that’s it,” Richie sighed, leaning against the porch railing. “Nothing we can do but see if she has another one and what triggered it.”

Mike put his hand on Richie’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“It’s tough,” he said gently, “but the alternative answers are worse.”

Richie shrugged.

“Yeah, I know, but at least they’re answers,” he muttered. “I just hate feeling so fucking helpless.”

“I know,” Mike replied. “But you and Eddie are on top of it. He was telling me before that you got her in therapy.”

“She’s been in it before this all happened,” Richie said. He suddenly itched for a cigarette but it had been years. “We had to update her therapist about all of this and she agreed with the neurologist that it was just like...a fucking panic attack. But I’ve never seen a panic attack quite like that.”

“They must know what they’re talking about.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t see it,” Richie insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I saw her, I’m the only one who really did. And everyone else wants to dismiss it. Even Eddie.”

“You know that’s not true, man.”

Richie frowned and looked down at his shoes. Guilt began to rise in his throat like bile.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just fucking...really fucking…”

“Frustrated?” Mike offered.

“To say the fucking least.”

Mike smiled and looped an arm around Richie’s shoulders, squeezing tightly.

“Well, we’re all here for you guys, I promise,” Mike said affectionately. “Anytime you need one of us, you know we’ll be here.”

“I know,” Richie mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “And thanks for stopping by today. You didn’t have to, you know. You didn’t have to do a layover just to see us.”

Mike shrugged.

“Cheaper seats that way,” he replied. “And I get to see my favorite all-American suburban parents. Win win.”

Richie laughed and shook his head.

“Sometimes I still can’t believe this is my life,” he admitted. “Like I’ll have these weird out of body moments where I look at Lydia and Tess and have to remind myself, oh yeah, these are my kids. I’m a parent now. It’s wild.”

“I can imagine,” Mike laughed. “But you two are doing a good job. They’re great kids.”

Richie shrugged. He fell silent for a long moment, as if searching for the right words. Mike waited patiently.

“You know, Tess has those moments, too,” he said quietly. “The doctor said they could be, uh, absence seizures but the EEG results were totally normal. I think they’re something else.”

“You lost me, Rich,” Mike admitted. “But I know nothing about this sort of thing.”

“Remember whenever we saw Pennywise as kids?” Richie continued. “When we were alone and we saw It? And even though it seemed to last forever, sometimes we’d just blink and It’d be gone?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, a frown on his face.

“Have you ever wondered what we looked like from the other end?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, when I was back in Derry and It was taunting me from the Paul Bunyan statue,” Richie explained, a slight tremor in his voice, “the park was full of people. I wasn’t alone. So what did they see when they looked over at me freaking the fuck out? Was I frozen or talking out loud to nothing?”

“Rich,” Mike said slowly, “are you saying that you think It is the reason behind your daughter’s seizure?”

“No, I–fuck,” Richie groaned and began pacing, his hands shaking, “I don’t know what I think. I just...she says things, alright? She told Eddie once that he died and came back and that’s why he has that scar on his chest. When we bought a hammock she said, oh like the one we had when we were little? How the fuck would she know about those things? We never told either of girls anything about Derry. But Tess somehow fucking knows.”

“Okay, wait, calm down, buddy,” Mike said, reaching for Richie’s arm. “Breathe with me.”

Richie hadn’t realized he was panicking. He followed Mike’s breathing for several long moments before his heart stopped racing.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mike insisted. He took a deep breath. “Listen, I don’t know how Tess knows these things. I mean, couldn’t it be like her imagination or just lucky guesses?”

“You sound like Eddie,” Richie mumbled dejectedly. “I swear, it’s something else.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Mike replied. He frowned, rubbing at his chin. “Hm, I could do some digging around for anything like this. I mean, I don’t necessarily believe in psychics but…”

“And I normally wouldn’t believe in killer clowns from outer space but here we are,” Richie said, grinning gruesomely.

Mike huffed a laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “Anything’s possible in this crazy world.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” Richie sighed.

The world kept turning.

Richie could barely understand it. Eddie went back to work, Lydia continued her gymnastics and counted down the days for back to school, and Tess was still her high-strung self. They continued her therapy, and Richie kept an extremely close eye on her—to the point that she finally asked one day as he stared at her, “Are you okay, Papa?” God, he was the one turning into Eddie’s mother.

Still, the days turned into weeks and she, luckily never had another episode like that awful one. Richie was grateful; he was quite certain his heart couldn’t handle another one. Eddie was hopeful that perhaps it was all over, that her anxiety was getting under control and maybe, they didn’t have to worry anymore. But he wasn’t the one home all day with the girls, with Tess and her far-off looks and uncanny ability to seem to know what her father was thinking.

But he had promised Eddie he wouldn’t freak out in front of the girls, so Richie kept quiet. Well, as quiet as Richie Tozier could be.

It was nearing the end of August and Lydia was bouncing off the walls ready to start third grade and for her latest loose tooth to finally fall out. She was constantly nudging it with her tongue, showing it off to her sister who had never experienced such a life-changing event. Tess found it alarming.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Lydia explained, “it just feels weird. And then the Tooth Fairy comes and gives you money.”

“Why?” Tess asked.

Lydia shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said, in a rare admittance of uncertainty, “why does she do that, Papa?”

“I think she pays you for the teeth and then sells them at ridiculously inflated prices on the black market,” Richie replied, cutting the crust off his youngest daughter’s sandwich. “It’s all about supply and demand.”

“I think you’re making that up,” Lydia observed wisely.

“I never make things up,” Richie said, placing Tess’s sandwich on the plate in front of her. “The Tooth Fairy has a business to run.”

“So the Tooth Fairy comes to our house?” Tess asked nervously. Richie’s heart clenched. He should’ve know. She also found the Easter Bunny disturbing, but who could really blame her?

“Yeah, but she’s tiny, so she sneaks in,” Lydia answered. “Like Tinkerbell. It’s not a big deal. All fairies are tiny.”

Tess looked doubtful.

“I don’t know,” she muttered.

“It’s true, fairies are tiny, right, Papa?”

Richie nodded, sitting beside his daughters at the table with his own sandwich (and Tess’s discarded crusts).

“But you’re not tiny,” Tess declared, looking straight at her father.

A prickling of discomfort, a very specific one he hadn’t felt in years, stabbed Richie in the chest. He froze and gazed at his daughter, his sandwich in half way up to his suddenly dry mouth.

“Papa’s not a fairy!” Lydia laughed.

“But that boy called you one,” Tess said, confusion evident on her face. “Is that mean? He seemed mean.”

“What boy?” Richie asked hoarsely.

“I don’t know,” Tess shrugged. “He’s bigger and he yells a lot.”

Why the FUCK is she talking about Bowers in the present tense?

“Where did...when...where did you see this?” Richie asked, trying desperately to keep his voice steady.

Tess took a bite of her sandwich before answering.

“I don’t know, I just saw it,” she said.

“It?” Richie repeated, dropping his own sandwich and grasping his daughter’s hand. “Tess, tell me exactly what you saw.”

Both Lydia and Tess exchanged a glance of mild puzzlement. Their Papa was being weird.

“I saw you and the big kid and he called you a fairy,” she said. “And you ran away.”

“Was I...little? I mean, you saw me as a little kid? Like in the photos at Grandma’s house?”

Tess nodded and laughed.

“You looked silly,” she said.

“When was this?”

“Huh?”

“When did you see this?”

Tess shrugged.

“I don’t remember.”

Richie swallowed.

“How often do you see these things?”

“What things?” Tess asked, taking another bite of her sandwich. She seemed rather bored of this conversation.

“Things like...like the boy calling me names or Daddy dying and coming back.”

She furrowed her little brow and scrunched up her face as she thought.

“I don’t know,” she said, “sometimes. Sometimes lots and sometimes never.”

“Are they ever...scary?”

She shrugged.

“Sometimes, but not always.”

Lydia abruptly spat in her hand.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, happily. “My tooth came out!”

She held it up for her sister and father to see. The conversation ended.

“How can she know these things, Eds?” Richie whispered, his face in his hands.

“I...I don’t know,” Eddie admitted softly.

Richie raised his head and gazed, unblinking, at his husband.

“These aren’t lucky guesses. Eddie, you have to be honest with me,” he said, “have you ever told either of the girls anything about It?”

Eddie’s mouth fell open.

“Are you serious right now?” he demanded.

“Yes, just fucking tell me so I’ll stop wondering.”

“I never told them about It and you know I never did,” Eddie hissed. “The fuck kind of father do you think I am?”

“I’m just making sure!” Richie insisted, raising his hands in supplication. “I just...I feel like I’m going crazy trying to figure this out.”

Eddie sighed and sat beside his husband.

“Me too,” he muttered. “Fuck, I should’ve known.”

“Known what?”

“We...I’m too…” Eddie trailed off and sighed. “How could we think everything was behind us? That our kids wouldn’t be affected?”

Richie stared at Eddie, cold fear in the pit of his stomach.

“What are you saying?” he asked, blankly. “Do you regret our kids?”

“No!” Eddie insisted. “No, never that. Sometimes I just…regret that they got stuck with us as parents.”

“Huh,” Richie mumbled. “Sometimes I do, too.”

He wiped at his forehead, wincing when he realized how sweaty it was. His jumped suddenly. His phone was ringing. He hoped it wasn’t his manager demanding another show. He glanced down at his screen and felt a brief flutter of relief. It was Mike. He swiped it open.

“Hey, Mikey,” he greeted, failing miserably at sounding pleasantly happy.

“Hey, Rich, are you okay?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, sure, peachy, just tired,” Richie sighed. “I’m on Tooth Fairy duty tonight.”

“Ah,” Mike said, “Tess?”

“Lydia.”

“And how’s Tess been?”

“Fine, aside from the occasional cryptic mind-reading or whatever the fuck she’s doing.”

“Well, that’s why I wanted to call you,” Mike continued hurriedly. “I’ve been doing some research and I think I found something interesting.”

Richie’s eyes widened as he gripped the phone.

“Just...just fucking tell me it has nothing do with the clown,” he begged.

“No,” Mike promised, “something else. Something...interesting.”

[assholetozier]

If These Walls Could Talk

Pairings: Stanley Uris x Mike Hanlon, Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak, Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh

Warnings: mentions of light self harm (nothing intense atm)

Word Count:  1,841

Part: 1/?

a/n; Hi! This is my first work for the IT fandom and all that jazz and I would give a sappy intro to this but all I am going to say is that it will get better as it goes blah blah blah, and that I worked very hard on this and stuff. If any of you have any criticism, ideas, or just positive feedback let me know! Requests in my asks, all that jazz and I can also add to the tag list. Alright let’s do this.

-

Stanley always hated math with a passion. Numbers just sometimes felt off to him; four felt better than three, ten better than eleven. They gave him this weird feeling in his chest, like there was a tea kettle ready to explode in his abdomen. He’d pinch the thin skin on the back of his hand until it was a rosey pink and read math through clenched teeth.

   But everyone hated math, right?

What is the answer to number fifteen, Stanley?

Why couldn’t it have been sixteen? Maybe he would’ve felt better. Maybe he could have focused and understood the problem. Maybe he could have closed his mind off and answered the goddamn question. He tried, he tried so hard that his teeth pierced his skin on the inside of his cheek without even noticing.

“Is it… twenty…” It’s twenty three goddammit just say it, you act like the number will hurt you. “..four. Is it twenty four, so b., right?”

The teacher shook her head, and wrote a petite cursive a  on the chalkboard. The iron taste suddenly flooded his mouth.

“D-duh-do you know what the t-test is over?”

It was letter A, not B.

“Stan the Man! Are you gunna eat that?”

It was letter A, not B.

“Ugh, Stanley, could you please tell your best pal Richie over here that my mother isn’t an object?”

It was letter a, not B.

Why couldn’t his brain just leave him alone? Was it because he didn’t read the Torah enough? Was it because he wasn’t good enough? Was it because, yeah he could admit, he didn’t look at Betty Ripsom the same way he looked at the warm cocoa boy when he saw him riding his bike through the town every sunday.

The older the boy got, the worse he felt. Every minute, he did something wrong. The line he drew wasn’t straight enough. He put too many onions on one side of the salad versus the other. He stepped on his left two more times than he did on his right. It was too much.

******

The curly haired boy paced back and forth in his barren hospital room. It had been a month since he was admitted and for the entire four weeks he was on quarantine from social interaction. The only people he ever saw were his nurses, who just shoved a rainbow of pills down his throat and talked to him like a lost puppy.

   But he heard the hollowed voices in the halls. When he pretended to be asleep, he heard the whispers. Today was the day he was moving. With people, and ...he didn’t know anything else after that.

   Who was he living with? Were they all his age? What if he has to be around old people? Did the rooms have actual colors? Could he open the windows? How many others would-

   “Mister Uris? Doctor Newby would like to see you in his office right away.”

   Stan’s legs practically slid against the carpet like ice. The hallways were long, wide, and had no color to them whatsoever. If he was lucky it would be the last time he would ever have to see them again.

   “You wanted to see me, Doctor Newby?”

   Doctor Newby, in short, reminded Stanley of a marshmello. A pale man indeed, with a hearty, sweet laugh he could always hear stretched for miles. He was a larger man, with broad shoulders and a bit of stubble on his chin. Above which, was a permanent smile that he had never seen leave his chapped lips, pearly whites shining underneath.

   The teeth flashed, “Please, call me Bob.”

   An awkward pause floated in the air. The younger boy took the chance to straighten his leather chair. It stuck to his skin.

   “Right...Bob.” His eyes glued to the man’s deep mahogany desk, curved in all the wrong places. His teeth gritted.

   “So, it has been a month for you here, am I right?”

   The curly haired boy felt himself give a curt nod, not even caring to listen to the bright man talk. He was too concerned with the pencils that sat in random spots on his desk. His eyes ran over it a million times, at what felt like ninety miles an hour. His ears shut down.

   Until he heard the clearing of his throat, “your mother agreed it was time to move on in your treatment, so I hope you didn’t grow attached to that dead room of yours.”

   Bob’s hearty laugh filled every corner of the room, making Stan almost crack a smile. Almost. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair, twice, and intertwined his fingers so he could squeeze his sweaty hands

   “I don’t understand… did I do something wrong?”

   The man’s lips straightened for a millisecond, “No, not wrong. However, we noticed that you being alone like you and your mother requested has not helped.”

   Stan almost squeaked, “So what are you doing to me then?”

   “We’re going to try what we call ‘colab therapy’. Your faction has six other kids your age with six different… issues. The goal is to support each other, while having a support system on the outside that aren’t just doctors prodding at you like science experiments.”

   Another laugh, but it quickly burned out. Stan didn’t know what to feel. Hell, he barely knew how to feel, after being locked away for four weeks, it was hard to make eye contact. Bob seemed to notice, because he scooted back in his chair and clapped his hands together.

   “Try it out! They’re all good kids I promise. We can move you out the second you feel uncomfortable.”    

   Why couldn’t Stan just go home?

Nonetheless, the jewish boy felt his legs carry him on a twenty minute walk through the building of which he only thought had ever consisted of his and twelve other patients in his unit. They passed by what seemed like hundreds of room numbers. Each had a particular sound and or smell, some exerting wails of agony, some with mechanical laughter, some had tears pouring out of the cracks under the floorboards.

The worst were the ones that were silent.

Everything was shut off as soon as the elevator doors opened to the top floor. It looked almost like a condo of sorts. The area was open, with three leather couches and two love-seats curved to a tee (which, was better in Stan’s opinion than them being scattered everywhere.) A single television, with a timer besides it on the long, tree trunk colored stand. A few boxes, of what seemed like belongings, were already scattered among the living space on a few random stools and chairs.

Looking past the open space, there seemed to be a long hall to the right with more rooms, and looking forward there was a large bright circle table with what looked like several documents and papers.

Stan felt the corners of his lips rise, “When did this...isn’t this a hospital?”

“This used to be a VERY large corporate office, but when I got the project approved we had some renovations done.”

His pearl teeth released from his clam-shell lips, showing of a warm smile that made Stan feel safe. His legs urged him to go fix the chairs at the table, they were all hassled and pushed every which way. When his long, pale finger reached up from his side, however, he heard the scream from the long hallways.

“Richie, if you touch my cheek one more time I will cut your nuts off in your sleep.”

“...kinky.”

At first, Stanley was repulsed. But then.. He remembered those voices. From where? No clue.

Bob huffed, pulling the curly haired boy out of his trance. A few strides forward, then a pause. “I’ll have to apologize, Stanley. The boys are a little..rowdy sometimes.”

“Am I the last one to move in?”

The broad man chuckles, “No, Beverly and Bill are still in solitary at the moment. Both had..rough nights. They’ll move in tomorrow morning.”

Bob smiles again, walking over to him and taking a seat at the circle table. He calls for the boys to join them in the room.

The first boy looked like a mop. His hair was curly and covered his ears in the black ringlets. Coke-bottle glasses made his dark-near black eyes buggy and shiny. Defined cheeks and jawline, cheeks littered with freckles. He wore a smirk like a necklace.

A much shorter boy almost clung to him at the hip, gelled back milk chocolate hair to reveal a pair of soft, innocent hazel eyes. His lips were pink a full, pulled into a straight line across to his pink cheeks. Although he seemed drawn to the mop, he still in a way stayed to himself, in his own little bubble. He was gripping a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Both muttered mini apologies and let their eyes trail up to Stan.

“It’s a newby!”

“No shit, Richie, I thought he was a mail boy.”

“FIRST of all, are you assuming genders? You don’t know, what if mail kid here is a girl?”

“Okay, not fair.”

“You know what isn’t fair? You always nagging at me, I swear to dear fuck-”

Bob clears his throat, and the boys’ voices immediately drop.

“This is Stanley Uris, yes he is another new roomate. Where are Mike and Ben?”

The shorter boy nods, “They’re talking about this book in the room-”

“Mikey! Haystack! Newby awaits!” The mop, who Stan assumed was Richie, screamed at the top of his lungs.

Hazel eyed boy gave him a pointed stare as the floorboards creaked and two other figures emerged.

They both had on bright smiles. The taller boy had cocoa skin and a scar on his eyebrow. His hands, calloused and bruised, were slightly shaking at his sides almost as he was afraid. But if he was, his face surely didn’t show it. His arms were strong and build.

The other boy besides him, however, was a cute kid. His cheeks were puffy and pink, lips tinted and plump. He had long eyelashes, elongating his emerald eyes that were bright and dusted with gold. The features all seemed… very feminine. But Stan didn’t want to make any assumptions.

The pale boy reached out a hand, “Ben Hanscom.”

So the other boy, who he assumed to be Mike, was pacing around the room. Stan noticed that if one part of him was still, two others were moving.

“Stan-”

Richie practically hacked a hair ball, “Let’s quit it with the friendship-bullshit. Can we finally know who we’re rooming with?”

The Jewish boy’s eyes became saucers, “I don’t know if I can-”

“Richie, you will be with Beverly. Eddie, with Mike. Bill, Stan and Ben all three together. You have… three minutes to go fight over rooms. Go!”

Richie and the shorter boy took off like sonic the hedgehog.

Newby burst out laughing, “I have your rooms assigned already I just think it’s so funny how they argue.”

______________

Tag list: 

@trashmoutheds @stanleyurisisalive @rainy-kaspbrak @whipashwhipash @trxshmouth-t0zier @eddiekaspbraklives @theperksofbeingawallflwer @murderoleff @richie-n-eds @welcometothemagentaparade @richrichbeep

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, January 25

You can now buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: COVID patient Larry King’s nasty battle over $50 million will 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Shia LaBeouf shows off his tattooed belly on a walk, Jessica Alba matches her mask to her shoes, Simon Cowell works out as he continues to recover from breaking his back 

Page 3: Amy Schumer on the beach in St. Barts, Peter Weber is a total cue ball, Jenny McCarthy hauls garbage outside her Illinois home 

Page 4: David Bowie’s supermodel widow Iman confesses she gets lonely but will never tie the knot again because the singer was her true love -- she made her revelation in the January issue of a fashion magazine where at age 65 she’s still hot enough to be the cover gal -- David and Iman’s daughter Lexie asked her if she would ever marry again and she said never and that their life together was beautiful and ordinary and that David was a very funny warm gentleman 

* Kindhearted Kelly Ripa is so spooked by her new gruesome true crime series about digging up murder victims’ bodies that she’s having terrifying nightmares that have driven her to a shrink for help -- Kelly and actor husband Mark Consuelos are bigwig producers behind Oxygen channel’s series Exhumed that debuted January 17 featuring unearthed corpses to solve cases -- many nights Kelly will awaken haunted by a case she and Mark reviewed and realizing the horror and heartbreak the victims and their families went through is something you don’t forget once the lights are out -- while Kelly and Mark aren’t on the show as executive producers they have to approve the episodes and become intimately involved with the devastated families who help tell their heartbreaking stories -- her immersion in the grisly material has had a chilling effect on Kelly who is an empath which is a highly sensitive gal who can often feel the pain and suffering others are going through and Kelly’s therapist encourages her to do positive meditations each night before bed and think about at least two things that made her happy that day and Kelly is doing her best to follow doctor’s orders but she is so affected by the plights of other people that somehow the nightmares still manage to find their way into her dreams 

Page 5: Onetime Bond girl Tanya Roberts passed away at age 65 less than 24 hours after her prematurely announced death -- Mike Pingel who was a rep for Tanya says he told the world that she had died at L.A.’s Cedar-Sinai Hospital on January after speaking with her distraught beau Lance O’Brien -- following a goodbye visit with the ailing star mistaken Lance claimed she died in his arms but bizarrely the very next morning sobbing Lance said he was told by the hospital that Tanya was still alive in the ICU while filming a TV interview about her untimely end -- however according to Lance she finally perished hours later on January 4 after being taken off life support -- Tanya reportedly collapsed in her California home after walking her dogs and rushed to the hospital she remained on a ventilator from December 24 until her death which was not COVID related

Page 6: In Denmark a bitter feud between royal wives is tearing the ruling family apart -- Danish Crown Prince Frederik’s Australian wife Mary detests her French-born sister-in-law Marie who is wed to Frederik’s kid brother Joachim and Mary helped banish Marie and Joachim to Paris to get her sophisticated rival out of her hair -- Frederik’s wife who is the future queen desires to be treated with the deference befitting her station even by relatives while Marie is far less stuffy and very outspoken and she’s made it plain she was unhappy when her husband was ordered to become military attache at the Danish Embassy in Paris in 2019 -- shortly after his arrival in France Joachim suffered a blood clot in his brain and when Frederik showed up to visit his ailing brother Mary was nowhere in sight

Page 7: After failing to land plum roles in A-list movie blockbusters Meghan Markle and her husband Prince Harry inked a $40 million deal to crank out podcasts and the first installment was branded a bomb after airing late last month -- despite superstar Elton John dropping by for Archewell Audio’s first holiday special the highly hyped recording embarrassingly landed at No. 17 on the Spotify podcast list behind entries like Deep Sleep Sounds which features whale sounds -- many in the royal inner circle are gloating and smirking over the arrogant couple’s disastrous debut and even with Elton’s help Meghan is still a second banana to whale noises and no one wants to listen to the couple’s self-absorbed drivel 

* Not only has royal renegade Prince Harry traded London for L.A. he’s ditched posh palace pronunciations and speaks more like an American during his public appearances -- while doing his first Archewell Audio broadcast Harry dropped the refined Received Pronunciation favored by his grandmother Queen Elizabeth and sounded like a regular American 

Page 8: Anti-vaccine crusader Bobby Kennedy Jr. has been kicked in the teeth by his powerful political clan after triggering fears about immunizations and the desperately needed cure for COVID-19 -- brother Joe, sister Kathleen and niece Kerry Kennedy Meltzer who is a doctor battling the virus on the frontlines publicly accuse Bobby of putting Americans’ lives at risk by telling lies about vaccines in general and attacking injections aimed at stamping out the killer virus -- family members were always skeptical about Bobby’s slightly off-kilter anti-vax ideas but they supported him because the Kennedys stick together and hate to show a rift in the family but now they have shifted against him

Page 10: Garth Brooks’ sloppy habits during nine months of lockdown have iron-willed wife Trisha Yearwood in a tizzy and their marriage is dangling by a thread after she clobbered the slob with a strict set of house rules -- after exasperated Trisha spilled her guts to pals a friend advised she put the rules in writing and hang it where he’ll see it and she did but Trish’s demanding ways are pushing Garth to the brink and he’s ready to walk unless they can find middle ground, one that doesn’t include Trisha calling all the shots -- Trisha has given Garth a list of do’s and don’ts that include wearing deodorant at all times and stop leaving the bathroom a mess and to remove his clothes from the dryer once he’s done but on the top of Trisha’s list is a ban on Garth’s constant 24/7 whistling that has her pulling her hair out 

Page 11: Dynamic diva Jennifer Lopez is bored with fat-cat fiance Alex Rodriguez and is struggling to keep their romance alive -- after postponing their marriage and saying there was no real reason to tie the knot Jennifer has kind of hit a wall with where she and Alex can really take things and she is particularly frustrated by ho-hum Alex’s lack of motivation -- those who know J.Lo want her to stick to her wheelhouse by making movies and recording music however those endeavors don’t offer retired baseball player A-Rod any position to play -- they haven’t fallen out of love exactly but they have run out of the joint projects and goals that were the rocket fuel for their relationship and they’re stuck with no obvious places to go next 

* Teresa Giudice and new beau Luis “Louie” Ruelas are already shacking up together and plan to buy a pad of their own and Teresa can see herself marrying Louie and combining his kids and hers under one roof -- he stays over most weekends and some weeknights at her place in New Jersey and they cook Italian together and stay up late watching movies -- her four daughters like Louie too and see how happy he’s made her 

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Maitland Ward wearing masks on her breasts (picture), Demi Lovato battled a life-threatening secret eating disorder for years but today she bravely flaunts the stretched skin she’d once considered painfully flawed by wearing glitter paint on her stretch marks to celebrate her body and all of its features whether society views them as good or bad, Paul McCartney still gabs with dead pal George Harrison whose sprightly spirit has planted itself in a tree, Ray Liotta has asked girlfriend Jacy Nittolo to marry him and she screamed yes, legendary country star Ricky Skaggs is lucky to be alive thanks to an emergency quadruple bypass that saved his ticking time bomb of a ticker 

Page 13: Mel Gibson steps out in Malibu with his arm in a sling (picture), Amy Poehler loads up at a Beverly Hills market (picture), brothers and Kinks bandmates Ray Davies and Dave Davies brew up an outing in London (picture), Michael Jackson’s one-time associate billionaire biz-wiz Ron Burkle snagged the late pop star’s beloved Neverland Ranch for the bargain basement price of $22 million 

Page 14: Bryan Dattilo the 47-year-old soap star who’s played Lucas Horton on Days of Our Lives since 1993 now calls himself grandpa to a bouncing baby boy thanks to his 21-year-old son Gabe and his girlfriend and he’s also becoming a granddad on TV too with Alison Sweeney who plays Sami Brady, no more boozy days or nights for Chrissy Teigen and she declares she’s on the wagon and through with imbibing embarrassments

* Fashion Verdict -- Reese Witherspoon 7/10, Greta Gerwig 1/10 

Page 16: Cover -- As 87-year-old Larry King battled for his life against killer COVID in an L.A. hospital his estranged wife Shawn was making a grab for the talk star’s $50 million fortune -- the cheating blonde is raging because in the months before his hospitalization Larry filed for divorce and cut her out of his will, leaving the fortune to their boys Chance and Cannon and Larry Jr. his son from his second marriage -- it’s going to be a fight to the finish literally and Shawn is trying to make sure she’s not left out when it comes to his cash 

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Anthony Anderson

* Kim Cattrall swore off motherhood because bedroom sessions with then-husband Mark Levinson didn’t fit into her Sex and the City shooting schedule -- Kim was 41 and newly wed when she decided to slam the door on pregnancy 

* Bill Cosby is refusing to shower with other inmates a Pennsylvania prison to avoid contracting COVID-19 and he says he controls his stink by washing up in his cell’s sink but he doesn’t expect the situation to last forever because he’s hoping a court will toss his 2018 conviction 

Page 21: LeAnn Rimes has admitted she checked into a mental ward after feeling bullied when news leaked she had cheated on her husband with married Eddie Cibrian -- she reveals she did 30 days in therapy in 2012 because she couldn’t handle the public shaming that rained down on her over her affair with future husband Eddie who was still married to Brandi Glanville and she was still wed to Dean Sheremet -- LeAnn calls her therapy the best gift she could have given herself 

Page 22: True Crime -- Survivor villain Jonny Fairplay is living up to his bad boy image after cops busted TV’s evil liar accusing him of ripping off his dementia-stricken granny 

Page 24: Marie Bobette Riales knows where the bodies are buried in actor Danny Masterson’s Scientology rape scandal and terrified church leaders want her silenced at all costs but Marie who dated the indicted actor and slapped the sci-fi faith with a civil suit won’t back down -- Marie’s impending testimony at Masterson’s criminal trial and in her civil case threatens to destroy the controversial church by exposing the intimidation used by ruthless Scientology bigwigs to hide the twisted secrets of its celebrity members 

Page 26: Health Report 

Page 30: Tom Cruise has taken on the mission to shield his movie crew from the rampaging coronavirus by building a disease-proof studio on a former top-secret army base -- Tom who is already taking heat for screaming curses at crew members who ignored virus safety measures is shelling out millions to build a secure shooting facility at the former English tank base in Longcross -- Tom is obsessed with finding ways to beat the fast-spreading virus ever since filming of Mission: Impossible 7 was shut down when the pandemic savaged Italy and when it spread to Britain 

* Alec Baldwin’s yoga guru wife Hillary a.k.a. Hilaria Baldwin has been busted as a fraud after putting on foreign airs and talking with a Spanish accent -- the mom of Alec’s five young kids claimed to be from the Spanish isle of Mallorca where she was called Hilaria but her tale unraveled after a social media video showed her accent mysteriously drifting on and off and pals from Boston’s preppie Cambridge School of Weston began texting that she’s all-American with one saying her name was indeed Hillary Hayward-Thomas and she did not have a Spanish accent -- now Mrs. Baldwin is confessing she was born in Boston but spent a lot of time in Mallorca where her American parents called her Hilaria and she picked up the accent 

Page 36: Angelina Jolie is panicking over her sky-high legal bills but she only has herself and her vengeful divorce war against ex Brad Pitt to blame -- she may be worth $100 million and rake in moolah from producing and directing but her high-maintenance lifestyle and refusal to finally settle her four-year divorce and custody war with Brad have left her cash-strapped and she’s starting to panic over her dwindling cash flow and every time she files a motion like her losing attempt to dismiss the judge it costs her money because these fancy lawyers can charge more than $850 an hour and it adds up -- more and more Angie’s having to dip into her savings but as much as it hurts she’s stubborn and refuses to settle and she blames Brad for everything -- on top of legal bills the luxury lifestyle she shares with her brood including a whopping $17.5 million mortgage on her L.A. mansion are a humongous cash drain and she also supports a household staff plus she’s never learned to say no when one of the kids wants an expensive high-tech toy 

* Pop diva Taylor Swift’s image has been erased from a mural at Nashville’s iconic Legends Corner bar because some die-hard fans believe she turned her back on country music -- artist Tim Davis notes the saloon’s owners told him to replace Taylor with Brad Paisley -- furious Taylor fans cry that she won country’s highest honor the Pinnacle Award in 2013 but painter Davis notes Taylor has turned to pop and some inebriated bar hoppers have spit on her image specifically feeling betrayed by her venture from country 

Page 40: Arnold Schwarzenegger’s acting unstoppable and savoring his favorite stogies just three months after major heart surgery but a medical expert warns the 73-year-old’s love for cigars could trigger a devastating health catastrophe and he should kick the habit -- however Arnold who had an aortic valve replaced in October has been feeling his oats with galpal Heather Milligan in resort Sun Valley, Idaho 

* In the latest twist in Dr. Dre’s messy billion-dollar divorce the rap mogul admits he spent a night of passion with estranged wife Nicole Young after they split -- in legal documents the music tycoon claims that although Nicole moved out of their family home in mid-March the two continued to speak and socialize and see each other and he also revealed that on the couple’s May wedding anniversary Nicole invited him to dinner at her Malibu home and the two did the horizontal mambo -- Dre vehemently denies Nicole’s claim that he abused her during their 24-year marriage adding she was not and is not afraid of him and insists she’s lying to bolster her divorce claims

Page 45: Robin Williams’ wife Susan Schneider insists she’s haunted by his ghost who shows up when she needs him and she says she recently saw him in the yard 

* Gilligan’s Island’s goody-goody girl Dawn Wells took a shameful regret to the grave that the perky pothead was accused of being a dope dealer -- the 82-year-old actress best known as girl-next-door Mary Ann Summers on the classic sitcom was still humiliated over her secret stoner past when she died of complications from COVID-19 -- her drug scandals dated back to 1998 when her friend and co-star Bob Denver who played Gilligan was arrested after a parcel containing half an ounce of pot was delivered to his house in Princeton in West Virginia and Denver later fingered Dawn as his connection and said she’d been selling him dope since 1995 but Dawn lawyered up and denied everything and was never charged -- she was busted for having marijuana in her car as she drove home from her 69th birthday party in 2007 and she was sentenced to five days in jail and fined and placed on probation -- her years as a pothead continued to haunt her until the end 

Page 47: Bizarre But True 

[readthebeautyblog]

Does Acupuncture Really Work?

If you have actually never ever tried acupuncture in the past, the whole idea can be tough to wrap your brain around. Exactly how, specifically, does sticking tiny needles right into your body help promote recovery, as many of its enthusiasts claim it does? Beverly Physiotherapy Winnipeg Acupuncture.

Not a trend

First of all, it is very important to note that acupuncture isn't a craze-- it's an ancient method that originated in China around 100 BC, and after that spread to Korea as well as Japan before locating its means west.

As such, the medical area's had a lot of time to research study it in depth. And a growing body of information suggests that it's an appealing therapy for a wide range of problems, especially those associated with pain.

Philosophy

Standard Chinese medicine describes that health and wellness is the outcome of a harmonious equilibrium of the complementary extremes of "yin" and also "yang" of the vital force referred to as "qi," pronounced "chi." Health problem is stated to be the repercussion of a discrepancy of the pressures.

Qi is claimed to flow through meridians, or paths, in the human body. These meridiens as well as power circulations are accessible with 350 acupuncture factors in the body.

Health problems dealt with by acupuncture

In the hands of an extra skilled doctor that is well trained in Chinese medication, discomfort control may be an usual but without a doubt not the only sign treatable with acupuncture. Rather, acupuncture is integrated as an additional technique in the arsenal of valuable clinical interventions.

Modest allergic sinus problems may be treated well with antihistamines and decongestants. If the problem is irritating to the individual, reoccurs frequently, or is improperly managed with usual medicines it may call for steroids as well as frequent anti-biotics.

In these cases, acupuncture may be an outstanding enhance to regular care, commonly decreasing or entirely eliminating the demand for drugs, launching the client from constant exacerbation-remission cycles.

Bronchial asthma as well as persistent bronchospasm are various other instances where the use of acupuncture lowers the necessary dosages of bronchodilators, hence lowering undesirable negative effects. as well as stopping a steroid dependent state.

Knowing when it works

Among one of the most usual indicators that acupuncture is doing its point is when you're well-rested. Numerous insomniacs who seek acupuncture for various other factors are amazed when their rest issues settle-- commonly without ever before having actually pointed out the problem to their acupuncturist. Even if you're not someone that struggles with sleep, you still might discover on your own resting extra deeply, waking much less during the evening, or feeling a lot more relaxed upon waking.

When acupuncture begins working, it can feel as if all of your senses simply got a song up. You hear birds chirping a little louder. The skies looks bluer. You notice the structure of your t shirt against your skin. You literally scent roses. Food tastes much better.

Generally, if it seems like your world has gone from normal watching to a vivid HD experience, acupuncture is working for you.

The bottomline

For countless individuals who deal with pain, acupuncture is no more an exotic curiosity. It's currently widely approved among the medical area. As well as it's rather prominent with individuals as well.

[healthfitessweblog]

Medical Resource A List of Unusual Alternative Medicine

A list of some of the alternative medicine practices you’re likely to encounter in the United States. Some of these are considered border-line acceptable even in the professional medical field, and many understand that this is unfortunate. Mostly these are just scams, quackery, and nonsense, which unfortunately gullible people believe in if they are desperate and grasping at false hope. Keep your eyes peeled for any of these, and be prepared to stamp out the harmful ones.

Hallelujah Diet “Reverend” George M. Malkmus claims to have eliminated his colon cancer and other serious health problems more than twenty-five years ago by “following biblical principles for a natural diet and healthy lifestyle.” He and his wife Rhonda Jean operate ‘Hallelujah Acres’, where they hold seminars, sell products, and advocate a diet that consists of raw fruits and vegetables.

Malkmus and his followers claim that his methods have helped people with obesity, cancer, arthritis, and more than a hundred other health problems. He is a very eloquent speaker who is capable of inspiring people who trust in what he says. It has been speculated that he is in fact running a cult, with an unknown number of followers at the ‘Hallelujah Acres’ site.

Intra-Cellular Hyperthermia Nicholas Bachynsky, a medical doctor whose license was revoked in the early 1990s, is largely responsible for the persistence of intracellular hyperthermia as a treatment. In April of 2004, he was imprisoned in a Floria jail to await trial on fraud charges related to sale of phony stock in a business founded on the alleged treatment.

The claim is that it is effective against cancer and Lyme disease by way of the intravenous administration of 2-4- dinitrophenol (DNP), which the U.S. Food and Drug Administration banned more than sixty years ago.

Herbal Medicine Americans are now spending billions of dollars per year for herbal capsules and tablets, bulk herbs, and herbal teas. Although the teas are consumed for their flavor, most of these products are probably used for supposed medicinal qualities. Sales by multilevel distributors and pharmacies amount to hundreds of millions more for products that are obviously intended for harmful self-medication.

Herbs are also marketed by naturopaths, acupuncturists, iridologists, chiropractors, and unlicensed herbalists, many of whom prescribe them for the entire gamut of health problems of every description. Many such practitioners are not qualified to make appropriate medical diagnoses or to determine how the products they prescribe compare to proven drugs, and are not licensed to do anything at all, for that matter.

Mesotherapy Touted as a nonsurgical alternative to liposuction, mesotherapy involves the injecting of medications and plant extracts into the layers of fat and connective tissue under the skin.

The injected ingredients may include agents that are used to open blood vessels, nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory medications, enzymes, nutrients, antibiotics, herbal cures, and hormones. Mesotherapy is said to be used in conjunction with dietary modification, hormone replacement therapy, exercise and nutritional supplements. No drug is approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration for use in mesotherapy, and none will.

Bio Energetic Synchronization Technique Bio Energetic Synchronization Technique (B.E.S.T.), came out during the mid-1970s by chiropractor MiltonTed Morter, Jr., of Rogers, Arkansas. It is claimed to be “a holistic program that coordinates and balances the workings of all the systems of the body.” Morter defines B.E.S.T. as “a nonforceful chiropractic technique for the 21st century that removed interference from the nervous system by the use of the hands.” Morter claims that such interferences occur when subtle pulses in different parts of the body are not synchronized.

Neuralyn Between April 1997 and June 2000, Beverly and Thomas Vigil of Meridian, Idaho, touted a product called Neuralyn on the Internet and elsewhere as a highly effective treatment for spinal cord injuries and other ailments. The couple claimed that Neuralyn was an all-natural substance made up of B vitamins, amino acids, and extracts of plants from the Yucatan Peninsula region. According to Thomas Vigil, the idea for Neuralyn came from a dream.

In fact, the Vigils teamed up with pharmacist David Taylor and concocted Neuralyn using a number of homeopathic ingredients as well as a couple of topical anesthetics. According to Assistant U.S. Attorney Wendy Olson, more than 100 people, most of them paraplegics or quadriplegics, paid up to $ 10,000 per person to come to clinics in Idaho, Utah and Colorado for Neuralyn treatment.

These people were told that Neuralyn treatments had been 85% to 95% successful, and that the product would enable spinal cord injury patients to move, stand on their own, or walk again by regrowing new nerve cells. The Vigils are now in custody facing charges.

Optometric Visual Training This approach is based on an idea that learning can be improved by exercises that stimulate coordination of the eye muscles or improve hand-eye coordination. Its proponents assume that the basic problem that leads to reading disability is some deficit in the muscles of the visual system.

The American Academy of Pediatrics and the American Academy of Ophthalmology have spoken out against this approach and cautioned that no eye-muscle defects can produce the learning disabilities associated with dyslexia. Dyslexia is actually a reading disorder characterized by omissions, faulty word substitutions, and impaired comprehension. It isn’t due to mental retardation, lack of schooling, or brain damage.

Thought Field Therapy Abbreviated as TFT, its founder, psychologist Roger J. Callahan, Ph.D., claims that TFT “provides a code to nature’s healing system and addresses their fundamental causes, balancing the body’s energy system and allowing you to eliminate negative emotions within minutes and promote the body’s own healing ability.”

The Callahan Techniques site also recommends dietary supplementation for the persons who “suffer from multiple environmental sensitivities and even allergies which aggravate psychological problems.” During the TFT sessions, the therapist uses sequences of finger taps on “acupressure points” of the hands, face, and upper body. The patient at the same time does repetitive activities, such as repeats statements, counts, rolls the eyes, or hums a tune while visualizing a distressing situation.

Freelance writer for over eleven years.

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from Lose Weight http://healthfitnessweblog.us/diets/medical-resource-a-list-of-unusual-alternative-medicine/