#too much tummy tammy

[jodilin65]

My Bio

It was the year 2002 that I finally decided to write my autobiography based on memories and the journals I’ve been keeping since 1987.

I was, and still am, the black sheep of my family. That’s ok, I don’t mind. I used to mind as a child, but I don’t mind as an adult. I was a lonely child surrounded by self-absorbed, controlling adults. I found their predictability to be rather boring whereas with me, they never knew what to expect, even if they liked to think they did.

I grew up in western Massachusetts. My family consisted of a mother, father, brother and sister. They weren’t exactly what I’d call stupid, but they had a narrow range of skills at the same time. They were very pessimistic about themselves, others, and life in general. They rarely approached the unknown with an open mind. They were easily made uncomfortable or even spooked by people or events foreign to them in any way.

Although my parents, Arthur and Dureen, were considered to be as different as night and day by most peoples’ standards because my father was much calmer, they were mostly carbon copies of one another at the same time they were opposites. They liked the same music, movies, foods and activities. They shared the same beliefs and opinions.

My very domineering mother made most of my childhood rather tough. It was often said that my mother treated her dogs better than anyone, and this was so true. Her dogs came first, then her friends, then her husband, and her children last.

She was her own person. No one told Dureen what to do.

My folks weren’t the worst parents in the world. They weren't drunks, they weren't perverts, and they were reliable enough to keep a roof over my head and food in my tummy, so no, I couldn't exactly present them with the worst-parents-of-the-century award.

But things were bad enough. Our material and physical needs were met, but not our emotional needs. My mother was often a very negative, impatient, insensitive, hypocritical and very controlling person, and my sister Tammy was very much like her, though she had one character trait my mother lacked. She was a hypochondriac.

My mother was an unusually persuasive person. It was like she could demand one’s respect just by thinking about it. I sometimes believe she could convince a person to jump off a bridge if she wanted to, no matter how strong-willed they were. Despite this, she was also very weak emotionally. She couldn’t handle dealing with other people’s problems well at all. Especially if they were personal.

She seemed to enjoy controlling people any way she could and over the dumbest of things, too.

My father and brother Larry were by far easier to get along with. They were more passive with a sense of humor that my mom and sister didn’t have. This doesn’t mean I didn’t have my problems with them either, for I did, and by the time I was thirty-two, I had completely cut them all out of my life.

My maternal grandparents (Jack and Shirley) lived next door to us till we moved across town when I was twelve. They were similar to my parents in that he was mellow while she was a witch. One of the meanest memories I have of Nana was her telling me I’d one day be so big that I wouldn’t be able to fit through doorways. Meanwhile, the hypocrite was over 200 pounds herself while I was barely over 100 pounds. I had my pudgy spells as a kid, and even as an adult, but for the most part, I was pretty scrawny.

I never knew my paternal grandfather. He died in his fifties of a heart attack. I was named after him.

My paternal grandmother was Bella. She wasn’t in my life much till I was around eleven or twelve, then she died when I was seventeen.

My father was born in 1931. My mother was born in 1932. They married in 1951 when they were nineteen and twenty years old. Still just kids themselves and way too young for even the most mature of people to marry in my opinion. They went right into an apartment in Springfield. My father was in the Navy at this time. A year later they had another apartment, then built a house in 1953.

My brother was born in 1954 and my sister was born in 1957.

Bio 2

I don’t remember my mother working till I was older, though I vaguely remember my folks owning a record store when I was really little. Also when I was little, my father did some extermination work for my mom’s dad, who owned an extermination business.

During my teens, both parents traveled the state selling eyeglass frames to optometrists. They even traveled a bit in New Hampshire and Vermont.

In my early twenties, before they moved down to Florida, they owned a jewelry store in a mall. It was actually one of those carts set up in the center of the walkway between the rows of stores.

The pets we had growing up consisted of poodles, birds and some rodents. I had gerbils and guinea pigs when I was older. We had a rabbit for a while too, in my later childhood, as well as some hermit crabs.

The only thing I really remember my mother telling me about sex and boys was basically not to do anything more than kiss on the first date, and to make sure the man I married was Jewish.

“But what if I fall in love with a guy who happens not to be Jewish?” I once asked her.

“You don’t let it happen,” she said.

What a silly thing to tell your kid, I realized as I grew older. Like we can help who we’re attracted to and who we fall in love with any more than we can help what colors or flavors we like? Like it should even matter who we fall in love with as long as we’re happy?

But I always preferred women to men at least for the most part. So later on in life, when I was twenty-four, openly bi, and visiting my parents in Florida, my father told me not to tell anyone I was this way.

“Why?” I asked him. “Should I be ashamed of it? Because if the person I told was put out by it, then I certainly wouldn’t want them to be a part of my life anyway.”

During my preteen years, I was often left in the care of my aunt and uncle’s house, with their two daughters which wasn’t usually much fun. Aunt June was a bundle of nerves, and Ronnie, my mother’s brother, was a mean bully. Cousins Lori and Lisa could sometimes be fun to hang with and sometimes they could be little terrors of their own. Lori, who was a year older than me, liked to bully me around at times. I was closer to Lisa, who was a year younger than me.

For reasons still unknown to me, my uncle always seemed to harbor animosity towards me. I haven’t seen any of them since I was around twenty years old, and I can’t say I miss them.

Ronnie was definitely the worst, shoving me around when I didn’t move fast enough for his liking when we’d all go out somewhere, and just being a less-than-kind bully in general. My sister Tammy did her own bullying and bloodied my lip one time right in front of him and he just sat in his chair staring at us dumbly the entire time, as if it was perfectly normal behavior.

I had mixed emotions about leaving Ronnie and June’s place when I’d stay with them. While it was true that I looked forward to returning to my own bed, my own toys, etc., knowing I’d soon have to face my mother’s wrath could be quite nerve-wracking, even scary. It’d be worse when Tammy was with me because I knew that when we did see my mother again, she’d be sure to tell her all kinds of horrible things I said and did, most of which were made up. But Tammy was the oldest and that meant that she was the most believable which also meant that I’d certainly be in for some sort of punishment if she did decide to tell on me, made up or not.

When I was around ten the visits to their house stopped. I’m not sure why. Maybe Ronnie and June were sick of having me there, or maybe my folks were fighting with them. I know they have had their fights with them, just like with my father’s brother and his wife. Someone was always fighting with someone in my family. Mom or Dad beat up on Larry who beat up on Tammy who beat up on me. It was crazy and I often wondered if there’d ever come a day when someone was killed.

The more I think about it as I write this, the more I think that yes, they did have a falling out, and it was probably over an injury I received in the town’s high school gym. This seems to be around the time the visits stopped, too. During the summer I was around ten, I spent most of the summer at their house, and Lori, Lisa and I would ride our bikes to the high school for daytime activities. There were sports, crafts, swimming, etc. It was actually kind of fun.

I was a bit of a gymnast in these days, though I certainly preferred ice skating and roller-skating. I was doing a series of handsprings over the vault in the gym one day. On one particular handspring, I veered towards the side once my hands hit the vault and my feet were directly overhead. I ended up spraining my pinky finger quite badly. At first, I thought it was broken because of how swollen it was.

My less-than-sympathetic uncle did nothing about it, and this could’ve very well been why they stopped talking. I know that when I later joined my folks at our summer cottage at the beach, Mom wasn’t too happy about it at all. She took me to a clinic right away and a splint was put on my finger.

I always felt more uncomfortable when Lori and Lisa would come to stay with us, versus when I would stay with them. There may’ve been Ronnie to deal with at their place, but at my place, there was my mother to deal with, who would often compare me to them (not in a good way) and give me the why-can’t-you-be-more-like-them? spiel, making me feel like I wasn’t good enough as I was. In fact, it seemed I could never measure up to Lori and Lisa no matter what I did.

My other uncle, Martin, who people called Marty, wasn’t much better. He was a mean bully too, and I doubt he’d have hesitated to kill me one particular day when I pissed him off by slamming the door in his rude face, had I not frozen scared stiff like I did.

“Open this door!” he demanded when I shut it on him when he came over looking for my folks who weren’t home at the time. This was for the way he and his wife treated me when I stayed with them at the campgrounds they camped at. So I opened the door and let him scream at me. Even his mother was scared. As I grew older my fear would turn to anger, however, so it’s lucky for both of us I simply stood there. Had I been like I am now, I’d have either gone to jail for kicking his ass, or he’d have gone to jail for kicking mine. I hope he would have anyway!

Even my father had an underlying macho stance about him as mellow as he usually was, and I did see him slap my mother once when I was around eight. This memory has haunted me throughout the years. It’s even more disturbing to know that had my mother put up any resistance after being slapped, he’d have probably beat the crap out of her right there in front of me, never giving a damn how it may have traumatized me. After he slapped her, my mother tried to justify his behavior, in a private little one-to-one, assuring me it was only because of his poor health. I was just a kid back then who bought anything that was told to her. However, as a grown adult, I know that this was a poor excuse for his actions and that if my mother had had any self-respect, she wouldn’t have made such lame excuses for him. Lots of people have heart problems such as he did and still has today, yet they don’t go around slapping their wives and traumatizing their children.

Marty’s wife Ruth could be sweet at times, but she was the phoniest thing I ever did meet! She had a big mouth and loved to gossip, but so did the whole family. Their two kids Polly and Philip were ok, though I rarely saw Polly. I doubt I’d recognize her if I passed her on the street right now.

Bio 3

James and Charlotte were my parents’ good friends. I liked Char and Jim. They had a daughter Shelley, also gay. Another couple that was close friends with the family was Goldie and Al. I liked them as well.

Richard and Beatrice, beach friends of my folks, owned an ice skating rink down in Windsor, Connecticut where I took some ice skating lessons. I didn’t see much of Dick, but I remember bleached-blond, tanned Bea to be one of the phoniest people I’d ever met! She and my Aunt Ruth could’ve been sisters, though they certainly didn’t look alike.

I rarely saw cousins Norma and Milton. They seemed nice, but they could’ve been ax murderers for all I know.

Cousins Max and Dorothy were a different story. I liked them, but I didn’t. They were very generous, giving me money upon my big cross-country move, but they had their faults. After I moved, I found out that they regularly visited Tammy. She lived over an hour away from them, yet when I was just ten minutes away, they never came to see me. I understood why, though. It was because of the “crazy” label my mother had worked so hard to stick on me. The fact that I didn’t have kids may’ve been a factor, too.

It really bothered me how Boo (Dorothy’s nickname) reacted to a question she once asked me. When she and Max were driving me home one day from seeing my father at his friends’ house in Brimfield, Massachusetts when he was visiting the area, she asked me how I was getting along with my mother. I told her, and it was obviously not what she wanted to hear.

“I love my cousin Doe! She works so hard! How could you cut her down like that?” she demanded.

Hey, she asked!

So far, my physical negatives have been having a deformed outer left ear that I’m deaf in, ADHD, asthma and allergies.

ADHD simply means you’re hyper and that you often have trouble sleeping and concentrating on things. That’s all it means. Nothing more or less. However, my mother tried to brainwash me into believing I had a chemical imbalance and needed drugs all my life simply because I was energetic, a bit eccentric, rather unique, and often viewed the world differently. Maybe the doctors brainwashed her a bit as well. Guess I’ll never know for sure. Nonetheless, this was back in a time when people preferred to put labels on certain traits and prescribe pills for them simply because it was easier to do so than to either accept the person as they were or to address the real root of the problem.

Because my mother nearly miscarried me, she was given an estrogen drug (DES) that they felt, back in those days, would help. Then they later learned it can cause cervical cancer in DES daughters and an increased risk of infertility. I don’t know if I’m sterile because of this drug or for some other reason. I may not be sterile at all, but just not meant to have kids (I did have what might’ve been an early miscarriage in the late 90s). Despite coming to decide I didn’t want kids in the end, somehow I knew this would be the case too, since I was a little girl. This would be part of my prominent sixth sense, but that didn’t really develop till I was in my twenties.

In the seventies, I had fifteen plastic surgeries in Boston to build an outer ear. It didn’t turn out so well. It never did look natural, and twenty years later it brought me problems. Persistent sensitivity within the frame caused me to seek medical attention which led me to two surgeries to dismantle the frame as well as to have a canal drilled. The amount of hearing I got in that ear is next to nil.

I was amazed at how I could be in and out of the hospital on the same day for just two operations in Arizona in 1994, yet had to stay in the hospital for two days for each of the many reconstructive operations I had in Boston. In Arizona, all they did was bandage the area. Back in the seventies, my whole head was covered with bandages except for my face and a small area at the crown of my head where I’d have my hair sticking out in a ponytail. The part that went under the neck was a real killer. I would itch like hell and I’d have to wear the thing for weeks at a time.

The only other physical problems/accidents I can remember is being hospitalized for a couple of weeks with pneumonia when I was around nine, and falling off my bike and needing many stitches in my chin when I was around twelve.

They say our health is supposed to decline with age, yet I’ve been much healthier in my thirties than I was in my twenties. Especially seeing how I couldn’t even breathe throughout most of my twenties.

I grew up in a small affluent town in Massachusetts just outside the city of Springfield. The Connecticut state line was just minutes away. We lived in a two-story, four-bedroom house with a large backyard that was built while my mother was pregnant with me. I had a little playroom down in the cellar until my paternal grandmother came to live with us. She had lived in California, but after husband number two died and she had a stroke, she came to live with us. She lived in the finished cellar since it had a bathroom and shower stall she could use. My new playroom was to be one of the bedrooms since Larry and Tammy were out of the house before I was even ten years old. For the most part, I felt like an only child, and believe me, there were plenty of times when I wished I truly was!

Next door to us lived my maternal grandparents in a two-bedroom ranch.

I’m not going to even try to sugarcoat my childhood, for sadly the only fond childhood memories I really have are those of birthdays and holidays, but even those could be shaky at times. Being with family could be a very stressful thing for me. It made me very uncomfortable. I felt like such an outcast, always walking on eggshells and like I just couldn’t be myself. Particularly around my mother and sister.

When I was around grade-school age, Chanukah get-togethers could be kind of fun. We’d go next door to Nana and Pa’s and they’d dump a bunch of coins in the middle of the cellar floor, where everyone was gathered, for the youngest kids to gather up.

I’d look forward to getting new records and was into TV shows like Charlie’s Angels and The Bionic Woman.

The most unpleasant preteen experiences were school-related, which would become Doe-related, as my mother was commonly called. Yes, my mother’s wrath could be quite scary and my dad didn’t do much to step in and defend us kids. Though there was physical abuse, there wasn’t nearly as much of that as there was verbal and emotional abuse. Her stripping my room of the things I treasured most (my little victrola was always at the top of her list) when I’d do badly in school which was usually by being a little bully, would leave me thoroughly depressed. Sometimes just going home with a bad report card in hand was quite a task. My heart would be pounding with anxiety every step of the way, knowing I was probably going to get hit or punished or both.

Despite how much more passive my father was, he did most of the hitting. I’ve personally seen him beat the crap out of both my brother and sister. I remember waking up at night terrified when I was really little by the sounds of my father beating them with his belt. Once, my mother even came in to comfort me while she allowed it to go on.

But they stuck together no matter what. If one of my parents had killed one of us, the other would still be standing by them today, never mentioning it, forever acting as if it never happened. In a town like Longmeadow in the seventies, they’d have gotten away with it, too.

My father once went to attack Larry during a Passover feast next door at Nana and Pa’s house when Pa jumped up and shouted, “Not in my house!”

“I’m going to call DYS,” should’ve been more like it!

A teacher hit me once as well. It was only on the rump, but it was still wrong. To me, violence is violence whether it’s a little slap or a major beating. No one should hit anyone unless it’s in self-defense. I believe that hitting kids usually leads to aggressiveness. My mother brainwashed me into believing it was an act of love. She’d tell me she did it because she loved me. I thought it was normal for parents to hit their kids. So, for a time I believed that when I had a problem with someone, like a classmate, hitting them was the proper thing to do, and I usually did.

Because she was eight years older than me, I was often left alone with her. That was rather terrible since she was so much like my mother. Tall and wide, it was often said that she was jealous of me. Not just because I was small, but because of the things I’d later be able to do that she couldn’t do. She felt stupid and ugly compared to me, so I heard, but personally, I wouldn’t have cared what she looked like or what her IQ was if she had only been less of a monster! While her jealousy was rather frustrating to deal with as well as embarrassing at times when she’d pick on me in front of others, I felt sorrier for her than I did angry. This is because while Tammy may’ve had nice eyes and wasn’t the dumbest person alive, she was still quite homely-looking and lacked skills or talent of any real kind.

Bio 4

We had a summer cottage at Old Colony Beach in Old Lyme, Connecticut. We’d head there as soon as school let out and wouldn’t return till Labor Day. We started going to this beach when I was a baby and stopped going as a family when I was in my mid-teens or so. This is partly because my folks made enemies there. The beach had its fun points, but for the most part, I preferred to be at the Massachusetts house. It was mostly a Jewish beach since my folks weren’t the least bit thrilled about hanging with those who were different than them. Not that they told me to hate others, like blacks. No, I’d come to hate everybody in general, regardless of race, color, etc., later on in life all by myself.

When I was around eight, Tammy and I would go and “be bad” when we’d go to check the cottage during the off-season. We’d rip screens off of other cottages, yank old doors off their hinges and things like that.

I mostly hung out with Andy. Andy was the youngest of six kids. They all lived in the cottage next to us. My parents and his parents, Judy and Al, had been friends for years. Since before I was even born. The friendship ended in the seventies and Judy and Al sold their cottage shortly afterward.

My parents had a falling out with at least three other families there, but it was mostly because of my mother. On and on went these childish little cliques and their struggles for popularity. I didn’t realize just how silly and immature it all was until I got older.

For the most part, the days were spent with me being bored on the beach (I could only swim and shovel so much sand), and the nights were spent doing a variety of things. Sometimes I was out interacting with other kids. There were bingo and movies on the beach. When I stayed in, I’d either watch TV, listen to the radio, or play with my dolls.

Despite my boredom, there were a few positives to the beach like ice cream, fried dough, candy necklaces, miniature golf and glow-in-the-dark wands. There was Mrs. Labriola too, an old lady at the other end of our street. I don’t remember how we met. I know my folks knew her somehow. We probably met while she was out in her yard which was beautifully decorated with lawn ornaments and I was walking by. She lived there year-round. Other than her kids who’d come to visit her and her dog, I was pretty much the only company she had. She was very good to me, often spoiling me with little treats when I’d visit. I was between eight and ten when I started visiting her. The last time I saw her was when I was around twenty-four in 1990. After moving to Phoenix in 1992, I learned she died in 1994 when I called her home and her son Vito answered.

My folks often played cards or other games with other couples just like them – very white, very straight, and very Jewish. My mother, as did my sister, had a thirst for praise and popularity. Recognition and acknowledgment were everything to them.

The most horrible memory I have of being at the beach was the one where my mother nearly left me for dead.

Literally.

The older I got, the more obsessed my parents, particularly my mother, became with my appearance. I had a chubby spell on occasion as a kid, causing my mother to taunt me as if I were a beached whale. I began to get more and more self-conscious and my self-esteem started to crumble. I also began to eat less and less as the pressure to fulfill Dureen’s obsession with me as the “beautiful” child mounted. Known for my big, long-lashed eyes, thick curly hair and being petite, I felt pressured to keep up the image, or else! When I finally did lose a little weight, she congratulated me as if it were the biggest accomplishment I could ever make in my life.

On one particular crash diet I threw myself on when I was around ten, I had not only no food but no water. I had nothing at all. I did this for a few days, then on the third day or so, I could barely lift my head off the pillow when I awoke that morning. I was so incredibly weak.

My mother and her best friend, Charlotte, were just off of the little kitchenette that was just outside my room. I called out to her but it was useless. When I asked for food and water, she refused to help me.

“You did this. You correct it,” she said to me, anxious to return to her backgammon game which was obviously much more important.

I was confused. I just didn’t know what to think at this point. Here she had been picking on me for being fat, yet when I insisted I was too full to eat anymore at a restaurant one night, she had made me eat it anyway and I ended up puking in the parking lot. It took all that before she quit making me continue eating once I was full.

As I lay there in my weakened state for many hours, I knew it was going to be up to me to save myself and that I’d surely die if I didn’t. I guess something must’ve wanted me to live because if that kitchenette hadn’t been right off my room – forget it. With all the strength I could muster, I pulled myself up out of bed, stepped just outside the room and yanked open a cabinet. Then I grabbed a Devil Dog, spun back around towards the bed and collapsed onto it. My heart was pounding. It took me all of ten minutes to gather enough strength to unwrap the wrapper and eat the damn thing. By this time it was late afternoon.

After I ate, I showered and went outdoors. My legs were shaky. And being the kid that I was, I didn’t hold the fact against my mother that I could’ve died had I not managed to feed myself, and I almost didn’t!

In my early teens at the beach, I’d often cruise the next beach over, which was a public beach, for anyone who had some pot to spare or share. Once, I was dumb enough to get into some guy’s car and drive away to get high where there were fewer people. He hit me for sex but dropped me back off at the beach immediately when I said no. The guy could’ve kidnapped, raped and killed me, so something was looking out for me that day, too.

I attended two camps in Maine. One when I was eleven, the other when I was fourteen. I was supposed to be there the whole summer, but that didn’t happen. I managed to get kicked out of both camps. I really hated camp. Not so much because the activities weren’t fun, but because it was too structured and hectic, leaving no time for any space or privacy. I always valued my solitude and I missed being in my own room with my own things and not having to share a bathroom with twenty other girls. I missed my stereo the most.

Camp M, the one I was in when I was fourteen doesn’t stand out in my mind in any way. All I remember is making sure I’d get caught smoking cigarettes so I could get kicked out, and slugging the camp counselor assigned to my cabin. I guess she startled me when she went to wake me up, so I didn’t literally “slug” her. She said I did, though, but I knew she was exaggerating because she wanted me out of there just as much as I did.

Camp N, the one I went to when I was eleven, does stand out in my mind because of a woman whose name I can’t remember. She was somewhere between her late teens to mid-twenties. She was extra nice to me and seemed very fond of me. I think she was some kind of supervisor because she had her own cabin in which we spent my last night in together.

Twenty years later, in Phoenix, Arizona I tried to track this woman down to thank her for caring for me in a time when so many people didn’t. I was never one to take good people for granted after all the bad people I’d dealt with, and I’m still not. Though I contacted Unsolved Mysteries for help and was shocked to get a phone call from them inquiring about her, I never could find her or learn her true name. No one I spoke to seemed to remember her. All I learned was that the camp was predominantly a Jewish camp. I should’ve figured as much, I suppose, since my parents were pretty big on hanging with our own kind.

Jenny, a friend I’d had since I was nine, wasn’t a very good influence on me. On top of a controlling mother, I had this bossy friend telling me what to do, too. But being the nice person that I was, I put up with it till I was in my twenties.

After a year of our friendship, Jenny moved to a rural town about forty minutes from where I lived, but we visited each other from time to time.

She had an older gay sister, Robin, who was on her own. Both Jenny and Robin were adopted. Her father seemed pretty passive, but her mother was a neurotic alcoholic that I never really liked.

Jenny and I had our share of good times, but I can’t say I was too thrilled with her for getting me started on cigarettes. Who knows, though? Maybe I’d have started anyway. She also introduced me to pot, though fortunately, I never got carried away with that. Just an occasional joint from my early to mid-teens. Actually, my last joint would be when I was twenty, but that story will have to wait.

As kids Jenny and I would hang out together, smoking our cigarettes and stealing from stores. Petty things like candy and cigarettes.

My other friend was Jessica. She and I are still friends today.

Just like Jenny had gotten me hooked on cigarettes, I got Jessie hooked on them. I spared her the pot, though. She and I didn’t cause too much mischief together, though we did skip school once.

Jessie was also adopted. Her adoptive parents were divorced. She lived with her mother a few houses away from mine. Her father was a very famous public figure.

I stayed with Jessie at his house in Connecticut a few times. His house was quite impressive. The layout was really cool. He had a lot of photos of him posing with other celebrities. The show’s set was in New York where he had a nearby apartment as well.

I hated school and having to get up early, though I found middle school to be a little better than elementary school, and high school to be even better. Before I became a ward of the state, that is. I totally loathed math, history and English. Science was ok. My favorites were chorus, gym, and the typing class I had.

I ended up at an alternative school at one point, the last public school I ever attended, if only for a brief time and it wasn’t too bad. That’s because we could get away with murder there. This was in Springfield and there were only a few teachers and students at this school. We could smoke freely and goof off all we wanted. Even our bus driver got high with us!

Throughout most of grade school, I was quite a rebellious little terror. Experts say my behavior problems were linked to the abuse I received at home, or my ear/hearing and ADD. Maybe it stemmed from all of the above. Who knows?

I’d do things like hit or kick students for no apparent reason and steal their snacks. Once, I hid a classmate’s glasses behind some books in a bookcase. I refused to tell the teacher where they were, so the class tore up the classroom in search of them, while I stood out in the hallway, grinning through the little square window of the door.

I played the flute and piano, but didn’t play the flute for long at all.

During the third and fourth grades, I was in the “retard room.” This was for slow learners or troublemakers such as myself.

One particular horrible memory I have of grade school was when I was in the first or second grade. I was afraid to go home that day because my mother had been fuming at me before school. This was because I had to wake her up because I couldn’t find the dress she wanted me to wear that day. I don’t know what went through the teacher’s mind when she thought she could save me by having a schoolmate walk me home, but that was her solution to the matter.

So this boy walked me home. I kept insisting that he not approach the house with me because I knew my mother would be mad if she saw me with a boy, but he stuck to me like glue anyway. As soon as my mother opened the back door the boy blurted out, “She was afraid you were going to hit her so the teacher told me to walk her home.”

Enraged at the thought of outsiders knowing that she hit her children, my mother slapped me right then and there in front of the boy. All I remember after she yanked me into the house, slammed the door on the boy and slugged me, was me huddling fearfully in the corner of the kitchen.

Mr. M, the high school music teacher, was definitely my favorite and the only man I really had a crush on before meeting Tom. He was tall, dark and handsome in every sense of the word. He was like a masculine version of Kate Jackson, also someone I had a crush on. This was when I began to really learn about rejection, for he was infatuated with another student at the time whom he later married.

I had no real friends in high school. Perhaps this was because I only attended Longmeadow High for the last part of my freshman year. From September till after the New Year, I met one-on-one with a private tutor at the Willie Ross School for the Deaf on the other side of town.

This was around the time I started seeing a therapist at the Jewish Family Services center in Springfield. Naturally, when my mother was present, she’d put on her public face. I believe I had to run away for a day in order to earn myself a few therapy sessions at this place. On and off throughout my childhood, I was a member of the Jewish Community Center. One day I hung out in this cave-like thing in the playground instead of going to school. I was also becoming self-destructive, cutting myself and things like that.

Back when I was around ten, I saw a shrink in Boston who recommended I stop having surgery. It was getting to me, that’s for sure. That’s a lot of operations to be having at any age, let alone so young.

This is when they began to control me with drugs, too.

Bio 5

In 1978 we moved from the newer side of Longmeadow to the older section. Although this house was much older, it was bigger and I liked it a lot better. It didn’t have much of a back or front yard. That was ok, though, since I was well past the days of playing outside on swings and in makeshift forts and tents, not that there were any woods in this yard anyway. All there was in back was a hedge separating a small patch of grass from a small brick terrace. There wasn’t much of a front yard, either. In fact, my dad could ditch his sit-down mower for a push-mower and leave the mowing to me. I didn’t mind. It was pretty much all I ever had for chores besides laundry, other than to keep my own territory neat and clean. I didn’t do any cooking. My only kitchen job would be to set the table, clear it off afterward, load the dishwasher, then empty it.

I received a weekly allowance of $10 which I’d spend on cigarettes. A carton of cigarettes was around $5 when I started smoking and ended up being over $20 when I finally quit eighteen years later.

Unlike the first house, which was on a dead-end road, this house was on the corner of a busier street.

It was also a two-story house with four bedrooms. My stereo and guinea pigs lived on one side of the cellar where I’d hang out a lot.

When Nana Bella first came to live with us at the first house, she’d snitch on me for every little thing. Then once she saw how my mom could be at times, she kind of felt sorry for me and we became closer. She even kept her mouth shut when I’d smoke. “Just don’t burn the house down,” she’d tell me.

She died when I was away from home as a ward of the state at age seventeen. Both of my maternal grandparents died two years later.

If I had to pick a timeframe in my life that was the worst, I’d say the teenage years were definitely it. This is when my mother began running out of patience with me, and her pawning me off on others or at other places would escalate. Places that could be even worse than being with her. I truly believe that my mother never wanted kids in the first place and that the only reason she had them was for show, so to speak. She married in a time when kids were expected of any couple.

As a hyper child with wild dreams of becoming a rich and famous singer, I was more than getting on my parents’ nerves. They started ignoring me more, becoming more and more engrossed in TV and outings with friends. I felt I lacked and needed attention. My mother’s control and ridicule were increasing by the minute. It seemed I could do or say nothing right, and as the last of my optimism and confidence faded, my early teens would be when I’d have my first thoughts of suicide.

I took an overdose of sleeping pills, but all it did was make me drowsy. I began to cut my wrists regularly. Actually, I’d hack up my left forearm. I wasn’t doing it to die. I was doing it as a way of channeling and venting my frustrations, my depression, and my growing anger. No one influenced me to do this, either. I never saw anyone do it on TV, never heard anyone talk about it. In fact, I didn’t know anyone else in the world had ever cut themselves.

Although raised Jewish, we rarely went to the temple. Religion wasn’t a regular part of our lives. That was ok with me, for religion is too structured and often bigoted in my opinion.

When I was somewhere between twelve and fourteen, I was walking down the street next to ours one crisp fall day.

“Oh, what a cute sweatshirt,” said this middle-aged woman who was out raking leaves in her front yard.

I looked down at my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. “Thanks,” I said.

With my hair pulled back in a ponytail, she noticed my ear and questioned me about it. After telling her about it, she informed me that she had a deaf son and that I was welcome to go into her backyard and meet him, so I did.

Jeff was a dark, lanky boy a year older than me with the same exact birthday. He knew sign language well. All I knew at this time was how to fingerspell the alphabet. Jeff taught me many words a day. I’d write down the words I wanted to know and he’d show me the signs for them.

I began to teach myself Spanish at this time too, using books and records. That was all I could do since I knew no Hispanic people to help me. There were no Hispanics that I knew of living in Longmeadow at this time. The only Hispanic people I’d met were this family from Venezuela in Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital when I had one of my ear surgeries.

I’d never even seen a black person till I was around ten, or maybe even a little older. “Dark Land,” I’d call the black section of the city whenever we’d drive through it.

I also dabbled a bit in French and shorthand.

Although Jeff and I hung out a lot together, neither of us liked each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. For him, it could’ve been for any reason. For me, it was because I was gay, though I didn’t know or understand that yet. I just knew that women in general were better looking than men in general. I was attracted to what I was attracted to and I didn’t question it. Not when I was attracted to someone I’d see somewhere, or when I was attracted to singer Linda Ronstadt, who’d be one of my favorite singers, or actress Kate Jackson.

The summer of 1980, when I was fourteen, was not a fun one. Instead of being at the beach, my parents were traveling daily, selling eyeglass frames to optometrists. I had just gotten kicked out of camp, and so my mother, not ready for me to come home and spoil her peace, dumped me off in Connecticut at the campground Uncle Marty and Aunt Ruth spent their own summers.

Although I was allowed to take my guitar and new guinea pig with me after losing one that I’d had for two years, I was not a “happy camper.” My only good memories of this time were the day I went water-skiing on the lake. Also, when I went diving with a bunch of other kids from a cliff that was a good fifteen to twenty feet high. It was scary at first, but I found it to be a lot of fun once I got used to it.

Marty and Ruth stayed inside a trailer while I stayed in a small outdoor tent. I didn’t mind the tent. It was my uncle I minded, along with my spineless aunt who went right along with his domineering ways. Believe it or not, though, she was the one that hit me that summer, not him. She slapped me across the face. I’m not sure if I earned that slap for bumming smokes off of others, or for the boy that was in my tent that they were convinced I had dragged in with me.

This kid actually came into the tent one early evening when I least expected it. He sat on my cot next to me as I held my guinea pig on my lap.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked him.

Saying nothing, he pulled my mouth towards his. Before his disgusting lips could touch mine, I heard, “Jodi, who’s in the tent?”

It was my Aunt Ruth. Both of us emerged from the tent, but before I could explain, she’d already made up her mind as to what had happened.

“Get in the trailer!” she demanded, where I would spend the night.

Shortly after this incident, my father came to get me. Before we left, he and Marty and Ruth openly discussed my “problems” as if I weren’t even there.

[rviner]

Tammie chuckles, playfully rolling her eyes. "I probably got a whole damn book of things Ryan Cross says that he thinks is cute." she jests but she anticipates the shift in atmosphere, before it even happens. It would be a psychic power if it wasn't just because old habits seem to die hard between the two of them. When her foot is pushed away from him, she obliges this time and tucks herself half back under the covers. "Well...yeah. So she can, y'know, it's what we did with our moms. It seems fair?" she sits up slightly, noting Ryan's tone but she carefully shifts to her side so her hand can fall to Eden's tummy. "It was just an idea, anyways. Nothing's even laid in stone, Ry." her words are a placation but spoken firmly, yet there isn't much use. Tammie shifts up properly then, catching Ryan's sternness with an equally stern glance at him. Her eyes flutter into another roll, far less playful. "I said might." she reiterates. "Our dad's still thinkin' on it. We might go. Ain't decided." and she might not like Ryan's tone or choice of words, but Tammie's eyes scan to little Eden beside her and she can see precisely why he's said them. Maybe it was a foolish idea, where she was a little too wrapped up in what the world should be instead of what it is. Tammie's willing to drop it until the tree comment comes flying at her, prickling her but also stinging. "Woah, okay? No need to be an asshole, Ry." she shoots right back with a frown. "Just opened my God damn eyes for Christ sake."

★・・・・・・★

"Yeah? You like that one? Could pr'ly think of more." Ryan laughs, his grin widening at the sound of Tammie's laughter. And when the rest of the cabin stirs into movement, Ryan is intent on bringing more of it out of her. But, it seems their conversation has other plans. It's easy for him to skip over the mention of Mason as a baby with a slight shrug. "I was a kid, Tam. I didn't know shit." he says quickly, twisting his body away from her foot as he laughs again. "I'ma cut 'em off, I swear to God." he struggles with his shirt because of it but tugs the material over his head and swipes away her foot. He can see the sentiments behind the visit to Adam's Lake, but Ryan's confusion perhaps shows his other emotions on the idea. "What? With Eden too?" he gives a look to the small girl, but Cross nature appears and he doesn't even wait for clarification. "Nah, fuck that. You ain't going back, not with her. I'd come along but that's fucked, Tammie." his tone is light, despite the heavy sincerity. Not intending to lay down a law so difinitively but he shrugs at her. "This ain't...if y'all need closure that bad, choose a tree in the damn woods, I mean it."

[jacobverbrugh]

This is not a cat, he is a prairie rabbit/monkey mix.

[chermanji]

those eyes, that mouth

robin buckley | reader

cw: jealousy, WLW, fingering, squirting

Robin doesn’t understand what’s so special about Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

If she’s being honest with herself, which she’s trying to do more these days - she really doesn’t get what you see in him. No offense to the guy. He’s brash, and loud, kinda sweaty, and greasy-looking, and to be fair she didn’t think you were the type to dig metalheads.

Robin sighs, leaning against the hood of the car and looks at her watch. You were supposed to be done with your little hellfire thingy almost 20 minutes ago. But Robin doesn’t mind waiting for you. Or at least she think she doesn’t, until she sees who you stroll out with.

The two of you walk out of the theater, Robin watching from her place next to Steve's BMW. She can recognize you instantly from afar, in your breezy skirt and cardigan, always the absolute sweetest. She sees Eddie throw an arm over your shoulder, his lips coming down to mouth something against your ear.

Robin can see the way you giggle, lips pulling up into a pretty smile as you bellow out laughter for the metalhead. It makes her seethe - and she hates that she feels this way. You always tell her about him, Eddie Munson.

How cool he is, he sweet he is, how he's not what everyone else says he is. It makes her sick to her stomach in a way that she hasn't felt in a long time. Long since she had to witness Steve smooch and mooch his way with Tammy Thompson in chemistry.

That familiar ripple of envy bites up her heels and makes her curl her fists, teeth grinding on one another as she forces down the bile in her throat. What's so great about him anyway?

You could do so much better than that metalhead freak. She glares at the two of you on the field. You're talking about whatever it is that's so interesting instead of making your way to the car, music or D&D. Or maybe he's trying to get you to come back home with him. The thought makes Robin kick the blacktop with the toe of her converse, tucking a lip between her teeth.

She feels a nudge against her tummy, Steve elbowing her from his place at her side.

"What's wrong Robs?" He asks with a smile, but the underlying concern is there. His wide eyes scan over her silent pursed figure, the way she picks at the baby blue nail polish on her thumb indicates anxiousness. Robin shakes her head, a shaky grimace forming on her mouth.

"It's- It's nothing, it's stupid really." She mumbles, folding her arms across her chest as she lets her chin hang down. But her eyes still follow Eddie, how he brushes his fingers across the exposed expanse of skin at your shoulder, pulling up your sweater. Steve leans forward and turns in the direction Robin is scowling.

"Ah, I see."

Does he really?

—-

The next few weeks are spent the same. You skipping down to the theater to join in on the hellfire matches while Robin waits for the tide to blow over. Instead it keeps building, raging and billowing under her skin. You try to get her to tag along, maybe she’ll enjoy it, you tried to encourage. But she always shoots it down with, “I gotta work, m’sorry bub, maybe next time.” And she kisses your cheek, hopping into Steve’s BMW and leaving you to huff and puff at her behavior.

She feels like she’s going insane, having to watch you and Eddie. The worst part is that you two aren’t even doing anything per say. You aren’t making out with him or feeling him up like it’s a raunchy porno, you’re just- overly sweet on him. Maybe it’s because you understand what it’s like to be ostracized in Hawkins by a bunch of prissy things.

But Robin can’t help the selfish feeling of wanting your attention back for herself. And maybe it’s showing a lot more than she realized.

She’s been avoiding hanging out with you and Eddie, even though it makes her look more than suspicious. Eddie- isn’t a bad guy, from what she can gather. He’s pretty alright, pretty funny and cool but, he’s been eating up too much of your time.

Steve’s been pestering her about it. Going on and on about how she’s more moody than usual, and she brushes him off because she doesn’t wanna admit that he’s right. That every time you come around all she can think about is how you’d look so much better with her arm over your shoulder, and her mouth on your lips.

Is it so bad that she wants you for herself?

—- The two of you lay on your bedroom floor, trying to beat the summer heat and boredom. Stevie Nicks plays on your radio and you’ve got your legs thrown over Robin’s lap. You murmur the lyrics and close your eyes, enjoying the stream of sunlight pouring in through the sheer curtains.

Steve was away, visiting some college campus for the 6th time. The kids were on whatever wacky adventures they usually did. Eddie was busy selling out his stash for a couple of bucks. So that left you with your best friend, and Robin was never happier.

She was quieter than usual you noticed. But Robin’s content to be in your company, finally getting a moments peace with you, and just you. You’re bobbing your ankle to the beat of the song, Robin trailing her eyes up your exposed thighs.

The Indiana summer heat has you wearing your gym shorts. The humidity making the both of you sticky and hot. Maybe the heat is getting to Robin’s head, but she doesn’t want to share you with anyone else in the world.

She pokes your inner thigh, smiling at how you jump. “Hey, are you-“ she bites the inside of her cheek and you peek an eye to look at her.

“What?” You sit up on your elbows, a grin on your lips. Robin notices the faint sheen of sweat on your Cupid’s bow and wants to kiss it off. Her mind flashes to memories of Eddie, him leaning over you. Getting too close to your face for comfort.

Her brows furrow in frustration, she soothes a palm over your shin and purses her lips. You poke her shoulder in retaliation, “what is it, Robs?”

“Do you like Eddie?” Your eyes widen, mouth parting as you tilt your head in confusion. She takes it as a sign.

“Well yeah, of course I like him. He’s nice and sweet, he’s a good friend of mine-“ Robin rolls her eyes, pinching your leg and watching how you squirm, a small ow coming from you, some satisfaction coming from it.

“You know that's not what I mean dummy.” Her voice gets quieter, “do you like- like him?” A beat of Silence passes over you two as you gape at her. “No, no why would think that I-”

“Come on, he’s always hanging off you like some dog. And you,” she doesn’t look at you while she says it, “You let him. I just thought, ya know, you liked him or something.”

There’s a certain edge to way she spits it out, all the weeks and months of pent up jealously and envy come spilling out onto your bedroom carpet. And it doesn’t take you much to realize why. The avoidance, the small fits of brashness, her behavior has been palpable lately - and now you know why.

You bring your legs back and off her lap, she ignores looking at your spread thighs as you do so. Robin is sure she’s fucked everything up. She’s already preparing the 20 minute long apology in her mind, when she feels the brush of your fingers along her skin, jumping at the feeling. 

You move slowly, as if you’re trying not to scare her and you go to straddle her lap. Robin bunching up her eyebrows at the scene. It feels too good to stop it.

You cup her jaw in your hands, smoothing your thumbs across her skin. “Robin,” you coo, “Are you jealous of Eddie?”

She wants to snap her head away in embarrassment but you’re hovering over her. Trapping her between your thighs and pressing her against the side of your bed. She flushes dark red, freckled smattering turning shades of chestnut across her cheeks.

“Shut up.” She mumbles, fingers digging into your waist. You simply smile down at her, eyes twinkling. She feels around your plushness, trying to figure out if she should slip her hands under or not. The chippy-painted nail polish flaked from her constant scratching.

You rub her bottom lip, swiping along the red-bitten tissue till she parts slightly. She’s so pretty, so sweet and easy to rile up. You lean closer, pressing your chest to hers. Robin can smell your perfume, a citrusy blend mixed with flowers, delicate and soft. You press a light kiss on her Cupid’s bow, your cherry chapstick smearing against her mouth.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you jealous.” You watch the way her eyes widen, the blue so deep and clear, taken over by blown out pupils. Robin shudders at the nickname, hands squeezing your hips as she stutters and pants.

“You-“

You peck her cheeks, kissing up and down her jawline and tip of her nose.

“I love you,” She inhales and chokes on her own breathe, “Love you a lot.” You whisper it against her ear, nipping at the lobe until she tucks her face into your neck.

“You’re mean.” You smile at her whine, knowing you’ve got her. Hook, line, and sinker.

— She moans, so loud you have to come up and shush her with a kiss. Smoothing your lips across her parted drooly ones, pecking the bottom one and cooing at her to be more subtle. “Robs, babe, come on.”

You’ve got your fingers pushed knuckle-deep into her cunt. Hooking them up and spreading them, prodding at that spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back and her mouth part.

You skim your lips against her inner thigh, nipping it, she jerks at the feeling of your teeth. “Gotta be quiet, baby.”

“Sorry- sorry, fuck-!” She cries out, legs threatening to snap closed as her tummy rolls in overstimulation. A searing white-hot pleasure quakes in her stomach as you ram against that spot, not letting up. It’s maddening, the way you scissor your fingers inside her walls, kissing up to her hipbone and mouthing the skin, lapping at it.

She doesn’t remember exactly how she got to this point, her legs spread across your waist as you spread her cunt on your hand - but she doesn’t fucking care. You giggle at her moaning, using your other hand to keep her pinned to the bed. You ignore the slick dampness in your panties, you’re doing this for her.

You press your thumb against her puffy clit and rub, delighting in how she mewls and whines out. You honestly didn’t think Robin was the type to like being underneath, but you’re not complaining.

God, she’s so in love with you right now. Not only because you’re stuffing her pussy full, but because you have love dripping from your eyes as you stare down at her. Pretty lips curved and you’re rocking down against the mattress to relive the pressure against your clit.

“M’gonna-“ you grin, pressing kisses along her hipbone.

“Come on, go ahead.” You press your fingers upwards, rubbing that spot till Robin is clamping her legs around your wrist and throwing her head back. The sound Robin makes when she gushes is absolutely gorgeous, high-pitched and whiny. Her pussy fluttering around your fingers, clit pulsing as she squirts over your wrist.

You smile, pressing a soft kisses on her mound and up her tummy till you reach her chest. She’s panting, her hair stuck to her forehead. You swipe the remaining slick on your bedsheets.

“So,” you drawl, swiping a finger on her collarbone, “are you still jealous of eddie?”

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Forbidden Love. Part 2: Andromeda

Check out Part 1.

This is from my personal Muggle Modern AU about the Black Sisters. Let me know if you have questions and yes. Adam McKinnon is Marlene's older brother.

Trigger Warning: Violence, Attempt of sexual abuse.

**************************

November, 2009.

Andromeda loved the way Ted closed his eyes to play the song. Giving everything to his music. Smiling and singing playfully with his friends. It was beautiful and magical. Andromeda had never seen something like it.

Maybe that was what she loved the most about Ted. His passion for things. How he enjoyed everything. How he enjoyed life. Andromeda didn't think it was possible to live so beautifully. Live for music, live for friends, live for adventures. Not live for money or status.

Andromeda clapped happily as the band finished practicing. She had been trying so hard to like them. They were practically Ted's family. Andromeda was envious. She never had something like that. Not friends. Only her sisters. So she wanted to be likable for them. So far it was going well. Except for Adam McKinnon. Andromeda knew he hated her. But it was about the past and her connection with the people that used to be Adam's enemies at school. Andromeda was still trying.

"That was incredible" Andromeda smiled as Ted approached to give her a kiss "You are gonna be great Rockstars in no time"

"We hope!" Tammy moaned.

"Don't you want a hair or nail of us? Before we get famous?" Will smirked.

The others laughed.

"That's disgusting, Will" Tammy tutted.

"What?" Will shrugged "She might sell them and be rich"

"She is already rich" Adam interrupted "Remember?"

If it was a joke it sounded more serious than that.

"Adam..." Ted protested.

Or maybe Adam hated her for being a Black. That was another possibility. Her family was rich but they hadn't done anything to the McKinnons. They were great admirers of Rugby.

It was Tammy who changed the subject asking about their outfits for the big night. She was a true angel. And the one Andromeda liked the most of the group.

Ted put a lock of hair behind her ear softly as the others spoke.

"I am sorry I cannot go to the gig" Andromeda spoke only for him "Bella made me promise I would go out with her this Saturday..."

Andromeda couldn't just tell her sister that she wanted to go and listen to the band of the boy she loved perform for a big crowd. Andromeda and Ted's relationship was perfect. Except for the fact that they needed to hide it from the rest of the world. Only Ted's friends knew.

Andromeda couldn't tell her sisters, the people she loved the most, she was in love. It was painful. They would never accept Ted, especially Bella. Andromeda knew it was a big elefant in the room. Something that Andromeda was trying to ignore because she was happy. She had never been this happy. So she kept on hiding Ted from everyone she cared about.

"It's okay. I get it"

"I haven't seen her much lately and..."

Ted interrupted her with a kiss. Andromeda smiled.

"There would be other gigs" Ted smirked "And I will take you to our tours around the world once we are famous...." he grabbed her face between his hands "So you will soon be sick of our songs for how much you listen to them"

Andromeda let out a chuckle.

"I love your songs" she said. Ted smiled "I love you" she added.

It was so easy to say it now. Almost seven months together. But it still gave her butterflies in her tummy the way Ted made her feel.

"I love you too"

Andromeda knew Ted had had other girlfriends before. And maybe he had told them "I love you" as well. But she hoped that she had been the only one that he actually meant it with. And that he would never say it to any other girl ever again. Andromeda wanted Ted to be hers forever.

They shared a kiss again. Andromeda was smiling as she kissed Ted because he made her extremely happy. And she couldn't avoid it.

"Come on lovebirds!" they heard Roger protest. And they broke apart giggling "We are all starving"

"Yeah, let's go" Ted said.

Adam was furious as he observed them. Andromeda gave him a soft smile. Adam looked away. Maybe she needed to try harder. But she was gonna gain Adam's trust. Because he was important for Ted. And Ted was important for her.

****************************************

They were walking from the parking lot to the club Bella was talking about. The one that someone had recommended to her. It was weird, Bella never changed the places she went to. Cindy had been talking about how good sex was with her boyfriend Seth. Seth had been with Bella and Andy at school and he had seemed a pretty decent calmed boy. Not the wild love machine Cindy was referring too. And God she was being so graphic.

Andromeda had been realizing lately that her so called "friends" were people Andromeda didn't feel compatible with. They talked about superficial things. They didn't feel like a family. Like Ted's friends did.

"What about you, Andy?" Cindy asked "I think it is lame you haven't popped your cherry yet. You are twenty"

Bellatrix didn't stopped Cindy. She didn't say anything.

Of course they didn't know Andromeda had done things with Ted.

"Maybe old Rod would do the honors" Cindy continued, giggling "He had been staring at you all night"

Andromeda looked up to the four boys that were walking up front. Just as Rodolphus was turning to look. He gave her a soft smile and turned again.

Rodolphus had been "out of bounds" for Andromeda at school. He was all Bellatrix talked about. The man of her dreams. Her future husband. Her true love.

Andromeda knew Rodolphus wasn't the popular wanker he used to be at school. Andromeda had only grown closer to him when they got to Uni. They shared classes. And Andromeda liked Rod. The real Rod. He was actually funny, compassionate and intelligent. He had dreams and desires. For Andromeda he became more real. Not the Rod Bella had put into a pedestal.  Rod was the perfect guy for her, someone her family would approve. But Andromeda was in love with Ted. And Ted Tonks wasn't Rodolphus Lestrange.

****************************************

Andromeda froze when they got to the club entrance. Her heart dropped to the floor. It was the same in which Ted and his band were performing.

"Look we are lucky!" Bellatrix said, pointing to a sign outside "Some band is performing live tonight"

She said it as if she knew everything. She said that looking directly at Andromeda with those penetrating eyes of hers. Andromeda swallowed. And then Bellatrix looked away and came in first. The others followed but Andromeda was frozen.

"Are you alright, Andy?" Rod asked. He was looking at her with eyes of worry.

What if they knew? All of them knew? What would happen to her and Ted?

********************************

Andromeda was cold sweating as they waited for the band to perform. They were practically on the front row. Nobody said anything about Ted. They acted as if nothing was happening.

"Do you want a beer?" Rodolphus asked with a smile.

Andromeda took the can from his hand and swallowed a large gulp. This couldn't be happening.

*Don't worry Andy. I won't let anything happen to you"

Andromeda looked at him, trying to figure out what he meant.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We have a new wicked band performing here tonight! Please welcome, Missfeet!"

And that's when the band came in. Andromeda's heart stopped as she saw him. Her Ted. Her beautiful Ted. He was smiling as the rest of the band. Probably very excited. It wasn't until he hanged his guitar around his neck that Ted saw her. And he froze too. The world disappeared as they looked at each other. Andromeda was trying to tell him many things with her eyes.

"Ted" Adam touched his shoulder. That's when Ted reacted. Adam noticed Andromeda. He was furious.

"Isn't that Tonks?" Gerard asked "The lad from the Leaky Cauldron?"

Gerard found it funny. But he didn't hate Ted as the ones who went to Hogwarts. Like Rod, like Seth, like Bella.

All of them looked furious. They hated Tonks and they hated Adam. Ted and Adam looked at their group in the same way. The rest of the band was shocked to see Andromeda.

The band started performing anyway. They did their best considering the circumstances. Ted didn't close his eyes this time.

They were focused on Andromeda. Just like hers were on him. Andromeda didn't even care if they notice anymore. She couldn't look away.

"This sucks!" Seth yelled all of the sudden "What is this music?"

"Buuuuh" Gerard screamed laughing afterwards.

The band continued playing but they didn't do a great job. It was obvious they were nervous and tense.

They continued jeering at the band. And like a domino effect, the rest of the crowd began doing it as well. Thinking they were a bad band. They weren't. It was so unfair. It must be horrible to play like that.

"Please stop!" Andromeda begged. She was talking to Bella.

Bellatrix ignored her.

"This band sucks!" she yelled instead "Get them out!"

"Get them out! Get them out!" Rabastan begun yelling and the rest of the crowd followed him "Get them out! Get them out!".

The band finally stopped playing when somebody threw a can of beer at them, wetting Tammy's dress. Andromeda turned to look. It had been Rodolphus. Andromeda didn't expected that from him.

Where were the owners of these place? Fucking security?

Adam was showing everyone his middle finger. Will was yelling at them to shut up. Roger and Tammy were looking at each other. Ted was looking at Andromeda. Andromeda didn't like that expression.

"Come on, sweetheart!" Gerard yelled at Tammy "Why don't you take that dress off?"

Gerard had always been a pig.

But Rabastan found it amusing. He laughed and approached the stage. His arms trying to touch Tammy's legs. Trying to pull her dress up.

Rabastan had a pill before. He was probably high. And Rodolphus was too busy to notice what his brother was doing.

"Get off me!" Tammy was yelling.

That's when Roger noticed. Roger was a soft boy. Very pacific and shy. But he became wild when it came to Tammy being in danger. He pushed Rabastan away.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER, YOU WANKER!!"

That's when everything started to get nasty. And everyone got more agressive. Adam and Roger came down stage to fight with Rabastan and Gerard. Seth went to punch Will. And Rodolphus went directly upstage towards Ted. He grabbed him by the shirt and gave him a punch.

TED!!

The screamed never came out. Because Andromeda was frozen. Ted was defending himself. Everyone was fighting with someone. That's when security intervened, trying to break people apart but everything was pure chaos. Tammy was getting lost in the crowd. She looked so scared. Andromeda was going to help her. But somebody dragged her arm.

"Come this way, Andy!".

Bellatrix dragged Andromeda to an empty space by the bar. Andromeda was shaking. Bella must've seen her sister's pale expression because  Bellatrix hugged Andromeda protectively.

"It's okay!" she whispered in her ear.

No! Nothing was okay. Andromeda had lost sight of Ted. Her precious Ted.

Andromeda pushed Bellatrix away. She needed to see what was going on. She needed to find Ted. But she saw something else near the stage. Gerard was hugging Tammy from behind. He was kissing her neck. Tammy was yelling.

"ROGER! TEDDY! ROGER!! GET OFF ME!"

Tammy had had a horrible past with her step dad. Andromeda had learned that she escaped home and went to live with Ted. A house were she could transition. And be herself.

"TAMMY!!" Andromeda cried out. Nobody heard her. Except for Bellatrix. Because she was looking between Andromeda and Tammy furiously. But Andromeda didn't care. She had to help Tammy.

She started walking but Bellatrix stopped her.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"Do you see what he is doing to her?" Andromeda was furious.

"Don't leave me!" Bellatrix begged, grabbing her arm. But Andromeda knew she was referring to something else. Bella knew. She pulled away. And she walked towards Tammy.

Tammy had managed to hit Gerard in the stomach with her elbow.

"DISGUSTING PIG!"

But as Andromeda was pushing herself into the crowd, she saw Adam behind Gerard. With a bottle in hand. And... SMASH!! He hid Gerard's head with it. Tammy let out the scream Andromeda had inside. Andromeda stopped walking. Gerard was on the floor. His head was bleeding. Andromeda covered her mouth.

"GERARD!!" The others noticed too, because they stopped fighting. Rodolphus ran up to his friend. Kneeling in front of him.

Adam backed away. Realizing what he had done.

"I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" A man yelled from the stage "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CLUB OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE!"

People started running, pushing Andromeda on the way. But she couldn't move. Her eyes were fixated on Gerard's blood. Luckily he was conscious.

"LET'S GO, TAMMY!!" Andromeda heard Roger yelling. He grabbed her hand and dragged her away. Will and Adam were behind them.

"TED!!" Roger screamed.

Andromeda finally saw Ted, making his way towards them amongst the crowd. His hair was a mess. His shirt had been ripped. And his lip was swollen and bleeding. Andromeda's heart ached. Her precious Ted. She loved him. She loved him so much. And just as she was calling him, his eyes flickered towards her. Ted looked at Andromeda with eyes of sadness. Andromeda's eyes filled with tears.

"TED!! Come on!" Roger grabbed Ted's arm and dragged him away. Ted was still looking at Andromeda as he walked away.

Andromeda wanted to run towards him. But her feet were frozen.

"I SWEAR TO GOD THAT I WILL SEND YOU TO JAIL FOR THIS, FREAKING BASTARDS!!" Rodolphus yelled as Ted and his friends ran away.

"See the kind of trouble that those people bring, Andy?" Someone whispered in her ear. Bellatrix.

"I hope you learned the lesson"

That's when Andromeda started crying.

[dwaynepride]

it’s this tongue of mine

summary: tammy and reader enjoy the opportunity for alone time.

-  could you write an imagine that’s just tammy smut 😗👉🏼👈🏼 -  imagine tammy eating you out to sex by the 1975 i’m akssjjsjsejdjfjsjskfjanxnncncnncnsmd -  smutty tammy fic for the soul 😼

words: 1,180

warnings: nsfw, female reader

tags: @stanathanxoox​ @pageofultron​ @tammy-gregorio​ @starryrevelations​ @thebeckyjolene​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​

a/n: second anon asked for a song in the background but i just couldn’t fit it in but you get reader receiving so i reckon you’ll be happy anyway

As far as dates go, this wasn’t so bad.

Sure, it was impromptu. As soon as Tammy learned that Sebastian would be out for the night, she called you up. Told you to meet her at the cheap diner closest to her apartment for dinner. Apparently, she was very eager for the opportunity to have the place to herself, for the night. And she wanted you to be there, as well.

Your eyes are half-lidded, lounging in Tammy’s bed, half-focused on the movie she put on. With a full tummy and the comfort of laying in her bed, you could’ve fallen asleep. Maybe you would have, if Tammy hadn’t suddenly kicked her door open and walked in with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Wine?”

“Yeah. I’ve been savin’ it for something special.”

You snort at Tammy as she sits on the bed and pops the cork off. “What’s so special about dinner and a movie?”

She only offers a shrug before handing over your glass. “You’re here, and Sebastian isn’t. Sounds special enough, to me.”

Cheesy ass.

Between the fruity-sweet wine and the movie, it was difficult to remember exactly what led up to Tammy hovering over you. She’d started kissing your neck at some point. Starting letting her hands wander because she’s knows you too fucking well and she knows that’s the quickest way to wind you up.

It was hard to pull away, as much as you wanted a peaceful night with Tammy. Work really has a way of inflicting a dry spell, and the way you shivered under her fingers proved it’s been too long. The wine’s evidently gone to your head and every little touch feels like hellfire.

She’s kissing you. Her tongue tastes like sweetened wine and apple pie from the diner and you’re feverishly addicted. Your head moves to kiss her harder, but Tammy breaks it off with a huff of laughter.

Oh, shit.

She’s got that annoying little mischievous smile on her face. A twinkle in her half-lidded eyes that you’re painfully intimate with and you know you’re going to be swearing her name - and not in a bad way.

The fact that you’re wearing a lose pair of pajama pants is your own demise. Because it’s much too easy for Tammy to tug them off your hips. Pull them down your legs and you’re letting her toss them to the floor. It starts becoming a real challenge to breathe once her hands reach the skin of your thighs. Slowly moving over them with feather-light touches to wind you up further.

“I hate when you do this,” you finally breathe out.

Tammy’s eyebrows shoot up, feigning surprise as her hands reach your knees. It’s hard to think as she gently pushes them apart. “Really? Coulda fooled me,” she replies lowly.

It prompts a scoff from you. “You can’t just kiss me or just cuddle. You gotta go and make a whole show about it. Sometimes, I just wanna make out.”

Slowly, she hums. As if taking your words into consideration, but not really. She sinks down to her belly, shoulders pressed against your inner thighs. So, so close that your legs start to tremble with anticipation. “You want me to stop, then?”

The question goes unacknowledged. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a ‘no’ and Tammy already knows the answer.

She presses a kiss against your thigh. Another one a bit higher. The third kiss is so close, you gasp quietly, unable to keep silent. Annoyingly, Tammy hears. And it amuses her. “Just relax, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You almost scoff at her cocky attitude. Almost speak up and remind her of all the times it was you who took care of her.

But her fingers pull your underwear aside. A slim finger comes out to tease you - a barely-there touch that makes you whimper and your hips buck. “Tammy,” her name comes out reflexively. Almost like exhaling a deep breath.

Honestly, it softens Tammy. She likes to pretend she’s so closed-off and hard to read. A tough agent because that’s how she always needs to be. But you just have this frustrating way of getting to her. Of getting under her skin and keeping these butterflies in her stomach from ever fluttering away.

So she gives you what you need - slowly sinks her middle finger in deep as it’ll go. As your back arches and you whimper some more, Tammy presses more kisses against your thighs. Though, she curls the finger, just a little. Just to make you squirm before a second finger joins the first and she begins pumping them in and out.

From her position, she can hear, feel, and see your heavy breathing. Your whimpery moans sound like music to her ears, but it’s not enough for Tammy.

She’s gotta get her mouth on you.

And...alright, you’ve always been a big fan of Tammy Gregorio’s mouth. She’s a smartass and tends to say whatever’s on her mind when she’s in the moment. But god, the way she uses that smartass mouth on you makes you see stars behind your eyelids. It should be fucking illegal for Tammy to be so good with her tongue.

Eventually, she deems it time to add a third finger. They pump deep and hard, curling at just the right angles and she’s gotta loop an arm around your hips to keep you from bucking too far. Her mouth and tongue are doing some seriously uncatholic things, and really, it’s a Godsend that Sebastian isn’t here tonight. Your moans are echoing off the walls and you’re sure Tammy is going to get some kind of noise complaint.

And once she spreads her fingers and starts doing some kind of scissoring action inside of you, there’s no fucking turning back. Your fingers reach down, tangling in her thick hair. Using it to ground you as her lips circle your clit. Her tongue rubs tight little circles, and it’s just too fucking easy to cum.

Your head sinks back into the pillow, eyes screwing shut, riding the wave as Tammy’s fingers keep their pumping until you finally stop writhing. There’s an unpleasant feeling of emptiness when Tammy pulls her fingers free, but she’s climbing up your body. Humming softly, as if pleased with your orgasm.

Cocky little shit.

She kisses you, and the taste of sweet wine and apple pie is gone. Replaced with a taste that’s entirely you. And it makes you shiver in a way that prompts Tammy to smile. “Glad we moved on from kissing?” She asks.

You try to glare, but Tammy leans in for another kiss.

And you would’ve flipped her over. Given her the same treatment she bestowed onto you. But before you can even think about moving, the faint sound of the front door frantically being opened catches both your attentions. And Tammy heaves a heavy sigh when Sebastian’s voice echoes off the walls.

“Hey, guys! I forgot my Magic: The Gathering cards. Do you know where they are?”

[stanathanxoox]

One Day You Will See What I See

gif is mine

Anonymous said: 28. “I don’t like what I see.” > “I don’t like me.”and Tammy?

“I don't like what I see” you whisper staring at your reflection in the mirror. You hated the way you looked in the mirror. Stretch marks could be found on your tummy, shoulders and thighs, and old self-harm scars could be seen on your wrists and thighs, there was no way anyone would ever like this body, nobody could make you believe that they liked your body. Sighing in frustration, you turn around to see Tammy standing in the doorway to the bathroom, you reach out for the towel that you had dropped in the laundry basket when you had finished drying yourself off.

“Y/N” she whispers as she takes a step further into the room. Holding the towel in front of you, you feel ashamed, you had been dating this amazingly beautiful woman for the last four months, she was a true beauty and you didn't deserve her.

“Babe is this why you've never wanted the lights on when we make love?” she asks and you nod, not meeting her stare. When she's close enough to reach you, she grabs one of your hands in her own before she takes that final step and she reaches out to cup your cheek with the other.

“Babe?” she questions and you sigh

“I don't like me! I don't like the person I am, I don't like my stretch marks or the little bit of body fat that I have, I hate the fact that my self-harm scars are visible, I just don't like what I am” you say furiously, tears are falling down your cheeks. Tammy pulls you close to her, holding you as you let out your frustrations.

“Babe, I think your beautiful-” you scoff, cutting her off before she even has a chance to finish, but she places a finger against your lips

“I think your beautiful Y/N. The fact that you have stretch marks, that you have a little body fat shows me that you live a healthy life. And your scars, they tell me of the trials you've been through, they tell me the story of your life, a difficult time for you I'm sure, and maybe one day you will trust me enough to tell me these stories but I don't care. I love the woman I see standing before me” she says, before she removes her jacket and begins unbuttoning her blouse

“Wha- What are you doing Tammy?” you ask and she smiles sadly

“Showing you something” she says, as she finally finishes undoing the button on her blouse and she moves back her shirt to show you a very nasty scar that marred her beautiful skin

“How did you get that?” you ask and she looks up at you, meeting your gaze as she says

“A nasty bomb, I was running from it but was still in the blast radius, ended up with pieces of shrapnel and other debris scattering across my body. I have scars too babe, scars that I hate so much but I wouldn't me without them” she says and you nod slowly, beginning to see what she's trying to get you to see. She places a gentle kiss on your lips, giving you a gentle squeeze before she says

“One day I will help you to see the beauty I do, but for now, just know that I love you so very much Y/N and I will love you for an eternity more if you will let me” her words are a promise that you wish very much to accept. You look up into her eyes and she gives you a small smile

“One day Tammy” you pause, resting your forehead against hers as you say

“I love you too Tammy”.

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi, @jimmybpride, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy, @nikkiwierden, @samchelforever007, @kirkspockbones, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love, @haliannej, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​, @mizzezm

Tag List for NCIS/NCIS NOLA: @powerpuffbubbles, @diaryofafan17, @thebeckyjolene

Tag for NCIS NOLA: @flight-of-a-robin

Tag List for Tammy Gregorio and Hannah Khoury: @hannah-sloane-38

[melonoverlord]

New asks for my wonderful buttered biscuit boo

Which parent do they look the most like?

Although he got his nose shape and concerned resting face from his mom, Tam definitely looks like his dad more. He’s got his eyes, his fluffy easily mussed hair, and beautiful jawline.

Is there a name they were almost given (either by their parents or during character creation)?

Tam was the first named of the twins, but when his mother was pregnant and thought she was going to have a daughter, she was going to name it Tammie. When Tam was actually born, they shortened it to Tam.

What were they like as a kid (if they’re currently a child, what would they be like as a teen)?

Tam was always anxious, but he didn’t become outright fearful of everything until he started the Rebellion with Luna and Oberon and saw the horrors of war. As a child, he was way more bitter of the other slaves that thought their subjugation was just in wait for a deity to save them. Young Tam had mastered the death glare by the time he was five.

What’s their drinking tolerance and what kind of drunk are they?

Tam’s surprisingly a lightweight. At two to three drinks he is telling everyone how proud he is of them and that he loves them so much and is happy they’re in his life. He’s a loving happy dad drunk fo sho.

Where do they like to be touched?

He doesn’t like to be touched except for select people, namely Ciri, Luna, Nivvy, Oberon, and the kids. When its platonic touches, he likes being touched on the hair and hands (he has very good hands for holding). When Ciri, he doesn’t really care where she touches him, all of it he loves. But he does really like when she touches his tummy and arms and his donker.

What’s their favorite position (top/bottom/switch/pillow princess/etc.)

He’s the definition of “bottom in the streets, top in the sheets”. He really likes watching Ciri and making her feel her best and loved, which he does by politely railing her until she sees stars.

What are their kinks?

Tam’s one of the less kinky boys, its more of location. He absolutely loves having sex in the kitchen, and it’s his dream (although secret because he doesn’t want Ciri to feel bad) of shower sex. As for actual kinks, he loves seeing Ciri dressed in vintage clothes (especially stockings with garters), food play, and he would never say this out loud for fear of being made fun of by Ciri, arousal denial.

How do they feel about adrenaline (roller coasters, extreme sports, etc.)?

He is heavily against extreme sports or anything he could get hurt in, but surprisingly he is a fan of rollercoasters, especially when they are well themed. He would be so excited on California Screamin.

What is their fight or flight response?

A definite freezer. If someone provokes him, he will spiral into panic until he has to fervently strum at his violin a la Miguel in Road to El Dorado.

What’s their pain tolerance?

Given that he grew up getting hit a lot and that he’s near fire a lot in the kitchen, Tam’s developed quite a high pain tolerance. Granted, he panics whenever he does get a minor injury just because of the memories pain relates to.

What character archetype are they the most like (the Innocent, the Hero, etc.)

Bard Boy’s the Lover. Both romantically and platonically, everything he does is for the most important people in his life. Especially for Ciri, he’s changed much about his outlook on life because of her and we all know he would move a mountain for Luna.

What TV-Tropes trope would they be?

He’s closest to the Ditherer. He’s so anxious about doing right by his family and friends that he doesn’t like making decisions and just would rather go with the flow.

What John Mulaney quote/bit do they most embody?

“Hey, you could pour soup into my lap and I’d probably apologize to you.”

With the exception of love interests and immediate family, who are they closest to?

Luna by far. She was the first real friend he ever had and there is no galaxy where he wouldn’t give everything he had for his best friend. However because sometimes he sees her more as a sister than a friend, his next best friend would be Val, as they both love weird old movies, harbor guilt for leaving their siblings behind, and adore Ciri with ever fiber of their being. Now that Val’s dead, he doesn’t know what to do.

What is their moral alignment? What would have to happen for it to shift?

He’s always been teetering between Lawful and Neutral Good. He knows that you have to rebel against authority in order to crush the system, but he just really wants to be nice to people. He would never be truly evil or even neutral, but to slide into more chaotic good, something would have to happen to Ciri, Luna, or the kids so that he doesn’t care about Genesian collateral damage.

Are they a morning person? What are they like before 8am?

Tam’s been waking up at 4 in the morning since he was a child. In the mornings he’s more alert but contemplative and in his own head. It’s when he composes all his songs and when he makes a gourmet meal for all the crew.

What are they like when they’re tired?

Tam has two tired modes: sleepy silly and “talk to me and I’ll kill you”. He’s more sleepy silly most of the time when he’s up too late and is very cuddly with Ciri and says the randomest things, but when he’s exhausted from fighting and dealing with his emotions, if someone interrupts his daily flow that’s not his wife, kids, or Luna, he can get extremely sassy.

What are they like in arguments?

Tam doesn’t really argue given that he never had a chance to growing up. Instead what he does is get very quiet and matter of fact and talk to you like he’s the only logical one in the room, which is when you know he’s pissed as hell.

What is their dominant hand?

Right

Out of 10, how happy are they? How happy do they think they are?

Normally he’s at about a 4/10, and after the wedding through Alternia was at a high of 7, but since the crew going missing, his kids running away, Ciri getting reprogrammed and then dying, Luna going missing, and everyone being mad at her, Nivviah, and himself, he’s at a solid 1/10. The only thing that made it slightly better was that Ciri got to have her revenge on her buyer.

[fix-it-feesh]

I’m currently working on two other fics at the moment, but this one wouldn’t leave me alone today. I figured it might be nice to dip back into the Hero’s Cuties AU, especially around this time of year~ For those of you who might not be familiar with the AU (looking at YOU, new followers! :DD), it’s set in the real world and not in the arcade/video game universe. 

Without further ado, my lovelies, I present some holiday-themed fluff starring our favorite fixer and his gorgeous gal. ❤

It doesn’t matter if a holiday is involved or not. Felix never passes up an opportunity to jazz things up somehow. For Halloween that included tons of candy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a trip to a hokey haunted house attraction. She should have expected that he would try to do the same thing around Christmastime.

- - - 

“How’s that coffee tastin’, hon?”

Tamora waits until she’s finished drinking and lowers the festive cup away from her mouth. “Like overpriced, commercialized consumerism,” she deadpans. 

Felix, who was expecting a different answer entirely, glances down at his own cup in confusion. They’re not really the type of people to have hot beverages outside of their cozy apartments, but it’s a chilly morning and they’re out and about in town. It just felt right to stop by the local Starbucks and start their day with warm, happy tummies.

When it becomes clear that Felix is thinking too much on what she said, Tamora rephrases her previous statement into a less sarcastic set of words. “It’s decent.”

That perks Mr. Sunshine and Daisies right up. “Glad to hear it!”

He goes for another sip of his lidless hot chocolate, and when he pulls away there’s a patch of whipped cream on the end of his nose. It’s so painfully childlike (and cute) that Tamora is absolutely unable to leave it where it is.

Rather than wipe it away with her coat sleeve or a napkin, she motions him closer, leans across the small table, and brushes her lips against the rounded end of Felix’s nose, clearing it of the spot.

Felix squeaks in surprise, and by the time Tamora pulls away he’s blushing a bright and rosy red. She sure ain’t shy when it comes to public displays of affection, and while that’s something he’s come to know over the course of their relationship, it’s still a bit startling when she just goes for it all willy-nilly and unabashed.

“You’re welcome,” Tamora says, nodding down at Felix’s hot chocolate.

He takes the cue and looks down at it as well, seeing the indent he made in the whipped cream. Doesn’t take a lot of common sense to figure out what happened from there (whoops). Just as Felix goes to thank her for cleaning him up, Tamora breezes into the next topic as abruptly as she always does.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Well,” Felix starts, holding his cup between his hands. “I thought we could have ourselves a look at some of the decorations they got set up around here. It’s our first Christmas together, so I wanna make sure it’s extra special for us.”

Of course you do, Tamora thinks. It doesn’t matter if a holiday is involved or not. Felix never passes up an opportunity to jazz things up somehow. For Halloween that included tons of candy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a trip to a hokey haunted house attraction. She should have expected that he would try to do the same thing around Christmastime.

“And then, dependin’ on how long we stay out, maybe we can head on over to that indoor ice skatin’ rink,” Felix continues. He takes a second to rub at the back of his neck when a sheepish thought occurs to him. “Eee-ooh-boy. I haven’t ice skated in years. I’m probably a little rusty.”

Tamora shrugs and goes back to drinking her coffee. “That’s longer than I have. I’ve never been.”

Felix shields a surprised (and slightly scandalized) gasp behind his hand. “Never? Oh my land, Tammy. We gotta fix that! It’s a little tricky at first, I’ll admit, but once you get the hang of it it’s pretty fun.”

Tamora mulls over what Felix said. Ice skating isn’t something she planned on doing—that day or ever, really—but Felix looks so hopeful, and so eager, and—yup. They’re going ice skating.

“You talked me into it,” she concedes, just as he takes her hand in his. “There’s just one condition.”

Felix brings Tamora’s slender fingers to his lips and kisses the back of them tenderly; his blue eyes are practically overflowing with adoration as he asks: “What’s that now?”

“If I go down,” Tamora tells him, grabbing the end of his chin. “You’re going down with me.”

—

Luckily for them the ice skating rink isn’t very busy when they get there later that afternoon. There’s a few families, a small group of teenagers, and two or three couples. Felix makes sure to lace up Tamora’s skates for her nice and tightly, so that she questions whether or not they’re actually cutting off the circulation in her ankles. She waits for him to do the same to his own skates, and once they’re both good to go Felix stands up and looks down at her. 

His cheeks and ears are flushed from the cold, and his blue argyle sweater is the epitome of dorky, but Tamora has never loved someone so fiercely or deeply.

“Ready, sweet pea?” he asks, holding out his hand.

Tamora takes it firmly. “Let’s do this.”

Standing up with the skates on isn’t so bad, but walking on the thin blades is definitely weird and disorientating. Tamora does her best not to wobble as she and Felix make their way to the rink. Felix steps onto the ice first, and before she can do the same he politely suggests:

“Tell you what. Let me get a feel for this again, and then I’ll come back to help you. Okay? That way there’s less of a chance of the both of us fallin’ all over creation.”

Temporarily leaving her, Felix glides onto the ice and tries to remember the basics. Tamora watches as he takes smaller, careful strides around the rink until they become longer and more confident. So much for being ‘rusty’. The guy’s a natural. 

Felix waves to her as he passes by a second time, and when he comes back around he’s ready to show her the ropes. “My lady,” he proclaims, reaching for her hand again.

Tamora takes it and steps onto the ice as gracefully as she can (which isn’t very gracefully at all, because that’s just not the kind of person she is). Not being in control is something she’s never liked, which explains why she immediately grips the barrier when her feet start to slide sideways without her consent.

“It’s alright,” Felix reassures gently, encouragingly. “You’re doing great, honest! Just take it nice an’ slow. We’re not in any hurry.”

They might not be in a hurry, but it seems like everyone around them is (especially the little kid who keeps weaving through the other skaters without a care in the world). Tamora tries to ignore the youngster as she moves with Felix along the edge of the rink. When she feels like she isn’t going to fall on her face and eat ice, she slowly lets go of the barrier and lets her arm extend out to make up for her lack of balance.

“There we go!” Felix praises, pleased as punch that Tamora is catching onto ice skating so quickly. He knew that she would.

By the time they’re halfway around the rink Tamora reels in her arm and tries not to look down at her skates as she moves forward; her hand has yet to unclasp itself from Felix’s, but it has loosened from the death grip she originally had on it. Ice skating isn’t crazy difficult, but she’s not sure if she’d make it a regular thing. Not unless Felix was really itching to go for whatever reason.

They complete their first lap, and then a second, before Felix figures that a short break might be good since it’s Tamora’s first time and he doesn’t want her to overdo it. He leads them back over to the entrance and towards the bench they’d occupied when they were lacing up their skates. Sitting down, Felix turns to Tamora eagerly.

“Now you can say that you’ve ice skated,” he states, and then presses on, “golly, I feel honored that it was with me. Makes me feel kinda special that I got to experience it with you.”

Tamora doesn’t think it’s a huge deal, but she humors Felix and his big, soft heart anyway; it’s hard not to when he wears it on his sleeve, open and vulnerable for the world to see. She wants to protect it. She wants to protect him. 

“You’re not a bad teacher,” she points out, watching as Felix’s already flushed cheeks darken to a bashful shade.

“All in a day’s work, ma’am,” he laughs, scooting a closer to her on the bench. When he can reach without craning over too much, he kisses Tamora on the lips sweetly. “I’m real excited to spend the holidays with you, Tammy.”

It’s been one hell of a year—for the both of them, honestly—and it could be something they need. Felix seems to think so, but then again he thinks a lot of things. Tamora considers this as she reaches for Felix’s sweater collar and reels him in for another kiss - one that lasts longer and makes Felix see stars when they eventually pull apart.

[prettygayapparel]

24 awkward scenarios that can happen to people during everyday life.

1.

You think you see someone you know approaching so you wave and smile with a super big “omg, hey!” face and your fucking hands waving back and forth like you are an overly caffeinated church lady on Sunday morning. Or a Beyonce’ that had way too crystal meth….Or as if waving your hands was a new way to charge your cell phone and your shit just died, so you really need some % 👋🏻👋🏻😲🤩. (I get it girl, but calm down!) – Only to then have that person get closer and you realize it’s not who you thought it was. So you pretend to stretch your arm or yawn like it never happened or act like it was for the person behind them.

2.

Your co-worker, lets call her Tammy, is walking out the door of your retail workspace. Like a normal person would; you shout “Bye, Tammy. Catch you later, girl!”. However, Tammy keeps on walking and never turns around to say bye back! Either she didn’t hear you or the bitch couldn’t give two 💩s. But all of your other grinning co-workers and customers in the store did. Way to do me dirty like that, Tammy. I’ll get you back.💅🏻

3.

You are constantly doing the thing where you try and walk by someone but you both stop and start at the same time or both turn the same direction, blocking each other in until one of you does an “after you” motion. Or you both get stuck there like a couple of ants that fell out of line. Forever, until you die. Literally, this is a thing (with the ants not you although that would not be awkward that would be straight up hilarious).

4.

You had a great night with someone you like so you text them before bed. Then you wake up and are thinking of them so you send them a few more texts, totally unrelated to the ones from the night before. Then you realize that they are about to wake up and see 5-10 long texts in a row from you only to now think you are crazy and obsessive, and worse they might even just end it or ghost you. Just don’t be too shocked when your boo face blocks you on social media all of a sudden.

5.

You spend forever deciding which sexy picture to send to your new hot friend. Perhaps you are even taking pictures right now, trying to get the perfect angle and lighting. Finally, you are done so you hit send- then you realize you just sent it to your sibling or parent because you were too horny to notice! Way to go horn dog. Let’s hope your family is cool.

6.

You are doing your best Ariana Grande sing-along or lip sync in your car at a stop-light and you look over to see someone watching you, maybe even recording a video of you. In which case you have 3 main choices: 1. Stop and act like you were not singing. Perhaps even pretend like you are on a phone call. 2. Go all out and lip sync for your mother fucking life. 3. Flip the crowd off and mouth the words “I will kill you.” Perhaps I suggest you go with one of the first two options. The third is very aggressive and do you really want a video of you mouthing “I will kill you” going around the internet?

7.

Like a normal person you see something cute on social media so you save it by taking a screenshot. However, you aren’t that great at Snapchat and don’t really know how it works and you get caught taking a screenshot becuase it literally tells the other person that you did. Or worse you accidently press the face-to-face video call button with someone you barely know during a time that is very unexpected and maybe not the best face-to-face moment- like when you are using the bathroom.

8.

You have your headphones in and are walking along the sidewalk, feeling yourself like you were a fucking model or a superstar- Suddenly you totally eat shit by tripping on an uneven sidewalk or curb. You pick yourself up and wave to those who saw you fall and say “I’m fine!”. Of course when you turn around you run right into a pole. At this point don’t make any more eye contact and just speed walk away.

9.

You have the hugest crush on some guy or girl and you tell all your friends and family how happy you two are together. You start imagining your life with them: you are feeling amazing and maybe even falling in love. To your surprise, you talk to that “love interest” later and they tell you that you are too much and that they aren’t into you like that they just want to be friends. Or they might simply just ghost you and now you have to tell people it didn’t work out. You can leave out the part about you being crazy as the reason why it ended (for your ego’s sake).

10.

You are in a quiet room and your foot makes a fart noise somehow and you don’t want people to think you actually farted so you say out loud that it was just your foot. Or worse you simply try and do the fart noise with your foot again several times just so people see it wasn’t a fart. This is a lose-lose situation. They still think you farted. 😬

11.

You are in an elevator, standing there not really paying attention. Then you realize the elevator isn’t moving so you start panicking because the elevator must be broken. OMG what are you going to do?! Finally your common sense kicks in and you realize you never pushed the button and have been sitting there not moving- Forever.

12.

You go on a break at work and look in the mirror only to see that either you have something stuck in your teeth or on your face. The worst part is all of your co-workers let you look like that in front of customers for the last 2 hours. It’s been busy and a cutie came in to see you. You definitely gave him a giant smile. That means they did you dirty too by not telling you. Cold.

13.

Someone approaches you and acts like they know you but you literally have no idea who they are or what their name is, let alone how you know them. So you just lightly giggle and smile and nod your way through. Giving them your best, most believable “how have YOU been? It’s been so long!” and then end with “it was so great to see YOU again”.

14.

You had a great date with someone. Everything is went well but it has reached the end of the date. They drop you off at your place and you go inside. Everything is normal- then you realize that you left your phone in their car. Luckily you have a lockscreen on your phone. Oh wait, you took the lockscreen off yesterday because you were trying to multi-task and doing the swipe pattern takes a few seconds that you did not have. Well I guess you wish you could’ve made more time and kept the lockscreen cos now your date is about to know everything about you. Hopefully they at least give your phone back to you when they find out you are secretly dating other people. Or that you texted a friend stating something not the best about your date. This is VERY awkward but if you put yourself in this situation then you sort of deserve it.😳

15.

Someone pokes your tummy and says “someone is getting a little pudgy“.

16.

You go on a first date with a cutie and a few days later they block you on Facebook, Instagram and probably block your phone number as well. Getting ghosted in general is hella awkward, and very fucked up.

17.

Like most mornings, you visit your local Starbucks for your daily caffeine fix. Naturally, they ask for your name. You tell them “Steven”. Cool. Everything seems normal. Your order is actually correct and didn’t take a long time (don’t get me started on how awkward it is when your drink is so bad that you need it remade). During class or at work one of your colleagues points to your coffee cup and says “HaHa your drink says Semen”! 😶

18.

You take your dog on one of it’s daily walks. All of a sudden your dog squats to take a shit and you are in a busy area; You definitely weren’t prepared because your dog already shit that morning. Or for some dumb reason you forgot everything about how the world works and you just didn’t think it was going to go. The shitty part, literally, is you don’t have any poop bags so wtf do you do? You have to act like you aren’t paying attention; definitely look the other way so it appears you didn’t see your dog go- when they are done quickly GTFO! (Come back later to pick it up when you are more prepared, of course. You may be a little careless at times but you aren’t a monster!)

19.  

You went out drinking and got super wild last night. A lot of things that happened towards the end, before you passed out in some random location, are a bit fuzzy and blurry. That is until the help of your friends or your brain remembering things gives you a little clarity. You become aware of all the texts you sent to people and all the things you may have done or said. To make it worse no one has been texting you back all day. Now you feel a combination of embarrassment, confusion and nausea and swear to never drink again- Until tomorrow night at least, duh!

20.

You are talking to someone and they keep saying “what?” or “what did you say?” as if they aren’t paying attention or can’t hear you so you just stop talking and they don’t even notice. Or worse you actually have to keep repeating things multiple times and they give you the “I can’t fucking hear you” face 😶🤔🥱. You should probably learn to speak up a little bit, but damn could they make this any more awkward?

21.

You answer a question someone asks or start talking to someone who has headphones in and are on a phone call. When they say “oh I wasn’t talking to you” a sense of embarrassment is likely to arise.

22.

You have been drinking all night, just having a great time. Your new love interest offers to give you a ride home or to another location. Then all of a sudden you have to go pee so bad. Like to the point where it is a code yellow emergency and you either need to go now or you might pee yourself. You have no choice but to have the cutie pull the car over so you can pee outside. Of course expect it to be the longest, loudest pee you’ve ever had. Worst-case scenario a cop sees you and you get a ticket. Shame, shame. Whatever everyone has to pee so if they don’t laugh then whatevs. Plus this is way better than you pissing in your pants and all over their car.

23.

You stop at 7/11 just to grab a drink and a snack because this is a totally normal thing to do. When you are done you get in your new car. You have one of those push to start buttons so you press it and you get a “no key detected” warning that keeps popping up. You keep trying and same thing- “no key detected”! You definitely have your key so wtf? Then all of a sudden a man comes running out of 7/11 with his hands in the air saying “you are stealing my car”! You look around a little bit and notice that your stuff isn’t in the car and it looks slightly different- This isn’t your car! Why was this guys car unlocked in the first place?! Oops! 🙄

24.

This one is for anyone born before 1990; When you were young, before recording devices were a popular thing, you would call your family’s house phone and leave a message of yourself singing just so you could hear what you sounded like. 1. You sounded awful and were way off pitch 2. You had no idea your voice sounded that weird. 3. You sounded amazing and this is how your career as a pop superstar got started (haha we wish). This kicker is you forgot to delete the messages so the next time they check the answering machine your parents and other family members will hear you doing your best seagull imitation- I mean your best Mariah Carey impression. 😄😉

Stay Awkward, Bitches!

[sarahburness]

50 People Share What They’re Grateful to Do Every Day

At night, when you think about how you spent your day, how often do you focus on all the things you had to do?

I worked. I ran errands. I went to the gym. I made dinner.

And when you tell someone about this kind of day, how often do you do it with a less-than-enthused tone?

I suspect this is the norm for many of us, at least during the workweek.

Commitments, to work and family, can engulf our lives and seem like chores, not choices and chances.

I distinctly remember one day, years ago, when I was rushing from one obligation to the next, stopping to remind myself that I had chosen the schedule I was keeping.

I had chosen to get up early to write, to accept the job that supported me, to go to yoga in the evening, and to help a friend after that.

And I was fortunate to have had these choices to make.

These weren’t all things I had to do; these were things I got to do.

I got to devote time to my passion in the hours before my paid work, creating possibilities for my future.

I got to work a job that provided both pay and benefits, enabling me to take care of my needs, even if it wasn’t my dream career.

I got to stretch my healthy body and create mental stillness.

I got to see people I cared about and love them in action by being there for them.

And in between all these things I had consented to do were lots of other beautiful little things I got to do.

I got to wake up to sunlight coming through my window. I got to walk by interesting people, trees, and buildings on my way to work. I got to eat delicious food from various restaurants at lunch. And I got to use my hands when typing on my computer—hands I could have been born without, or could have lost to some type of injury or tragedy, but hadn’t.

I get to do a lot of things worth appreciating every day. We all do.

We all get to do things that challenge us, fulfill us, excite us, and energize us. We get to live, love, laugh, and explore in far too many ways too count.

Since I’ve long been inspired by this idea of focusing on what we get to do, I decided to include this as one of the prompts in my newly released gratitude journal.

I decided to share this particular prompt on Facebook this past Sunday to see how other people would respond.

Over 1,500 people chimed in, creating a monumental list of blessings, many of which we all share but could easily take for granted.

Since I was inspired and touched by the list, I decided to share a sampling here.

I Appreciate That Every Day I Get To…

Health

1. Shelley White: Breathe. I received donor lungs nine years ago after my own lungs failed. I have Cystic Fibrosis. Just being able to wake every day knowing I can spend another day with my family is what makes me grateful to be alive. I appreciate life.

2. Kristi VanTassel McHugh: Wake up. I had open-heart surgery nearly two years ago, to replace a faulty aortic valve and repair an aortic aneurysm. When I was first diagnosed, I was told, “If it’s not fixed soon (the aneurysm) it will burst and you will die.” That was two days before Christmas, and I waited just over six months for my surgery. I am thankful to still be here, every day.

3. GusandMaggie Nosce: Be alive. I was born a congenital heart patient (blue baby) and was advised I would need a heart transplant by the time I was four years old. By the grace of God, I have never needed one, even though the open-heart surgery I received when I was days old is no longer in practice and is no longer advised to perform.

4.Manal Khatib: I appreciate that I can walk after a serious car accident eight months ago. Every day I had to relearn how to walk. This journey has made me appreciate my body and treat it with kindness.

5. Laina Amarantinis: Walk and stand. After three spine surgeries I am finally able to walk and stand more and more as the healing progresses. I am very thankful.

6. Mary Beth Hudson:Spend time with my family. I beat my battle with cancer; others in my family were not so lucky.

7. Linda Otto: Move my body. I can walk, run, lift, bend, etc., all with ease. This is not possible for many people. It can be taken away in an instant or gradually as we age. Your health, eyesight, hearing are never appreciated enough.

Family

 8. Anna Hunt: Spend time with my daughter. Soon she will be off to college and I won’t have her close. Hearing her laughter, knowing she’s in the next room, fills my heart with warmth. I appreciate that every day I get to see her.

9. Amy Albinger: Be with my family. Be with my parents, my husband, my sister, and niece. They are the reason I live today. They are my reason to get through each struggle. They are my definition of love.

10. Riddhi Solanki: I appreciate that I get calls from my parents and friends, as my current job isn’t in my hometown. They call me and talk to me so I don’t feel any more left alone.

11. Niquita LeValdo: I wake up to my child. He was born with a heart condition and needed surgery at two months old. The thought that he may not have been alive today gives me a new perspective and helps me appreciate every moment. Love your children, praise them, cherish them.

12. Lillivette Colón:‪ Keep my baby in my tummy one more day. Every day is victory.

‪13. Tezra Blake:‪ I appreciate every day I get to see and hear both my sons growing into awesome men, and that they aren’t ashamed to say I love you mom and check on me and ask how I am doing. Despite their age they still want my opinion on things.

‪14. Laurel Hausafus:‪ Have the memories of my sweetheart and husband in Heaven .

15. Cheryle Midgett: Spend another day with my ninety-four-year-old mom.

16. Anika Bruce:‪ Every day I get to hug my family. I love hugs, they’re life changing.

17. Nicole Werner-Sayre:‪ Stay at home to raise the tiny little human I created and help her grow up into a person I’ll be proud to add to the world.

18. Laurie Clemons: Give a hug and say I love you. We all need to hear it more.

19. Dawn Creason: I get to read and cuddle with the most precious little girl that I never thought I would have. I get to hear her giggle and I get to play with her.

20. Fiona James: Wake up happy and healthy with my wonderful family. Too many people don’t have that luxury. Thank you for reminding me how blessed my life is. 

“Little” Things

21. Elizabeth Sherriff: Have a roof over my head, fresh water, food, and a family around me.

22. Kathy Kellermann: Have a warm shower and a bed to climb into (especially in the middle of winter).

‪23. Jessica Grandelli‪: Eat food that nourishes and sustains my life. It is a privilege to live in a place with bountiful food.

24. Jacinta Harrington: Enjoy a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper.

25. Caroline Driver: Eat whatever I want and drink water straight out of the tap

26. Marsha Frakes Waggoner: Walk outdoors in the grass with my dog and see trees.

27. Heather Demick: Drink in the world through my eyes.

28. Yvonne Hernandez: Have a place I call home.

29. Alice Louise Pocock: Listen with my ears, see with my eyes, and love with all my heart.

‪30. Xuandai Hoang‪: Sit in front of my candle and relax.

31. Enchari Rivadeneira: Dishes. It means I have food, a kitchen, a family to share with, and I did it. I made through another day, whatever happened. It’s a beautiful thing, dishes.

32. Chloe Cunningham Sarno: Finish all the housework all in the same day. Ah clean house!!

33. Tammy Pillsbury: Lay my head down knowing I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a job that rewards me, a husband that loves me, friends and family whom I love, nature outside my door.

34. Michael Bell: Read. There is no aspect of life that I have derived more benefit and pleasure from, and I couldn’t imagine my life without it.

35. Danielle Yingling-Lowrey: Be with my babies, take care of my flowers, cook, drink coffee, be a friend, be a neighbor, be mama, be a daughter, be a wife, drive my car, take care of my house, giggle, laugh, read, smile at others…. so many things!

36. Nicola Wood: Wake up and just be me and appreciate how blessed I truly am!

37. Steve Kenney: Not feel the pain of starving, the pain of extreme thirst. Having a roof over my head, and AC. Having a few people who really care about me for me, not what I can do or give them. Not suffering from bad health. That’s it. Everything else is inconsequential.

Possibilities

38. Gena Pegg: I appreciate that every day I get another chance to do the right thing.

39. Bani San: I appreciate that every day I get to wake up in freedom and pursue whatever life I dream of.

40. Jayne Duncan Stites: I appreciate that every day I get to begin again anew!

41. Jim Zei: Have another opportunity to make things right—whatever right is.

42.Lechenda Crichton: Have one more chance to be better than I was yesterday.

43. Sherelle Myers: Use my body and working limbs for whatever I choose!

44. Angela Charlwood-Derbyshire:‪ Practice making better choices.

45. Linda May Knowles: To learn from the mistakes I made the day before.

46. Wizz Tomo: I appreciate that every day I get to learn new things.

47. Ashley Glenn: To be alive and experience whatever the new day presents.

48. Amy Brock: Breathe and do normal activities of daily living. There was a time that I couldn’t do such a great job of either.

‪49. Herb Daum‪: I appreciate that every day I get to make the world a kinder place.

50. Melissa Milligan: Be here. Not everyone made it through the night. Be grateful you’re still here.

I appreciate that every day I get to…

How would you finish this sentence?

You can read more about Tiny Buddha’s Gratitude Journal (which includes 15 coloring pages) on Amazon here. If you already have a copy, I’d very much appreciate a short review! 

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About Lori Deschene

Lori Deschene is the founder of Tiny Buddha and Recreate Your Life Story, an online course that helps you let go of the past and live a life you love. Her latest bookTiny Buddha's Gratitude Journal, which includes 15 coloring pages, is now available for purchase. For daily wisdom, follow Tiny Buddha on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram..

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The post 50 People Share What They’re Grateful to Do Every Day appeared first on Tiny Buddha.

from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/50-people-share-theyre-grateful-every-day/

[leffelovesdestrua]

Tammy this has nothing to do with LDR but can you tell me your self care routine I know you are very busy I was womdering what you do to take care of yourself & love yourself.

Hi I don’t know exactly what you are looking for but this is generally my overall routine. ^-^

For my face:

Recently I’ve been trying out baking soda :) So I mix 1 part baking soda and 2-3 parts water and use that to cleanse my face. If I want it to me more exfoliating I use less. I’ve had really bad acne recently from stress or hormones so I’ve been trying something different haha ^-^;; I moisturize afterwards since the baking soda is drying.

But most likely I’ll go back to my normal routine which is washing my face really well while I shower and using my micellar water twice daily to cleanse my face as well. It works really well because the micellar water balances the pH of your skin, which is really important, while also acting like a toner which gets rid of dirt and such. It’s the one thing I couldn’t live without in my routine :)

It also helps if you get your eyebrows threaded like I do, to use the micellar water immediately after you get it done and then not touch your face for the rest of the day. If I don’t do this I break out really badly.

For my eating:

I’m vegan which is just part of my self-care. I have bad tummy issues so eating clean has helped with that a lot.

I recently started using cronometer as well to make sure I’m getting all of my nutrients and once I sort of get a general idea of what has what nutrient I’ll probably stop.

For mental health:

 I always take time everyday to sit with my boyfriend on Skype and watch movies or a show. It helps me de-stress and enjoy mindless entertainment and his company. 

I have also started working out regularly which helps with my self-esteem, which I have been struggling with A LOT since I’ve gained weight. 

Also I’ve been trying out positive affirmations. If I’m nervous about something I’ll chant to myself that everything is going to go great, that I’ll do amazing, that it’s going to turn out okay, etc. It helps more than I ever thought it would.

I hope this gives a general idea ^-^; I didn’t want to write too much.

Xxx