Xxforestfairyxx - Xxforestfairyxx

'you still listen to music from 10 years ago 🤨?' bitch if prehistoric humans had audio recording technology id be sat up here listening to grog and unga bunga's greatest hits don't play with me

UGGGGH MY HEART

billy

“My child is completely fine” your child wants to get their back blown by a 60+ year old man with a former addiction problem

iii];)'

slash’s instagram posts are NOT for the weak

the patrick verona to eddie munson pipeline is SO real

The Time Before - Vivianne Peretti

masterlist here

1,469 words

an: hey! this one's been in my drafts for a super long time, sorry about the wait! I hope you enjoy!

cw: mentions of abuse, fighting, aggression, characterological self-blame (CSB), weird age gaps (Let me know if I missed any!)

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"Your mama was one of the most beautiful girls on earth. Or at least, we all thought so back in high school. She was from California, and she had the prettiest blonde hair. When she first moved out to Georgia, she had brown, mousy hair. But she said that she hated it so much she was gonna dye it blonde. And that's what she did.

"All of us boys used to go crazy over her. She was so new and interesting and had so many stories to tell about California that we all fought over talking with her. And when prom season came around; whew! You should have seen how many guys asked her.

"We were fascinated by her. She was always hip and cool and into the newest things. While the rest of us were playing sports or doing clubs at school, she was listening to rock n' roll records and partying with her friends. She's where you get your spunk from. And your taste in music. If she could see you now... my god, would she be impressed," Wayne said. "Really?" Eddie asked. "Are you kidding me? Having a son like you? She would be talking you up left and right, kid.

"Your mama always wanted kids. She once told me she wanted to have four boys. Can you imagine? Four? As much as all of us guys were crazy about her, she was crazy about kids. And she loved you. I know that much. Don't ever think she didn't, kid. She always loved you.

"When that woman knew what she wanted, she knew. And there was nothing you could do to change her mind about it. That's what your daddy liked about her so much. She was strong-willed and stubborn, just like him. But you know what happens when you put two strong-willed people in a room together..."

~~~

The year was 1967, and Vivianne was trapped.

The boy she had loved, the boy who spent four years of his life waiting for her, the boy whom she had married, the boy who had given her a child, had suddenly turned on her.

In a violent rage, Al had slapped her across the face. She couldn't even remember what they were fighting about; it was something small, something about dishes. She justified it to herself; she had egged him on, not stopping the argument when she saw his knuckles turn white while clenching the kitchen countertops. She hadn't stopped when the arguing turned into yelling, or after it kept escalating until boiling over. She hadn't stopped, she informed herself. She was at fault for this, not him. Besides, it was just one time.

But after the weeks passed and it didn't stay a one-time occurrence, she slowly began to recognize the shift that took place in Al. It happened right after their son, Eddie, was born. Eddie. She adored him. In her eyes, the sun and moon rose and fell at the mercy of this child. Her child. She coddled him, spending every waking minute with him attached to her hip or in her arms. She saw to it that he never cried, never was unhappy, never hurt, never was scared, and never felt sad.

She watched Al become bitter towards her and the baby. He began to pick fights with her over small things. The fact that the bed was unmade, that the kitchen table had crumbs on it, that the dishes hadn't been dried yet. He pestered her and followed her around, criticizing her every move. His requests were unrealistic and absurd; but when she chose to tell him that he would become irrationally angry.

At first, she chalked it up to both new-parent-nervousness and some jealousy over how much time she was spending with the baby. She figured that Al was used to all of her affection; late-afternoon love-making and morning chats in bed. Long drives out to the middle of nowhere, just for the hell of it. But now there was a baby to take care of, things to do, chores to be handled. Al was holding down a job at the mining company ten miles north, and the time he had at home was not spent wrapped up in his wife's affections.

Maybe he was nervous about taking care of the baby. It was new to him. Yes. That was it. Stress and nervousness were the factors that fueled his violence. Maybe if he were less stressed, he would be less angry all the time. She resolved to be a model wife; to live according to the rules of the white picket fence and the sundresses with aprons layered on top. She wanted so badly to be one of the women who had a pot roast waiting in the oven when her husband got home; to keep the house perfectly clean, to straighten his tie and kiss him on the cheek before he left for work in the morning.

And she tried. Oh, how desperately she tried. For a while, she even wore sundresses and aprons. But after the rain fell on the clothesline and the pot roast settled too long in the oven and burnt; she received the same reaction from Al; the yelling, the screaming. Every word that he said rang true in her mind. Then came the Big Anger.

She started to classify his rage into two sections; Little Anger and Big Anger. Although they shared certain qualities, they were very alike. Little Anger consisted of screaming and yelling. Big Anger was when Al began to throw things or hit. Unless she could calm him; which she usually couldn't, Little Anger would morph into Big Anger. There was yelling; then a fist through the wall. There was screaming; then there was a vase chucked at her head.

For two years, this continued. For two years, Vivianne was so stuck on thinking that she still loved the man she used to, that this was still the same man, that she let herself get beat up. She didn't even try to fight back, because she knew that it would do nothing but make him more angry.

The worse the abuse seemed to get, the more Vivianne retracted herself. She had a small place in her mind; a getaway paradise for when it all became too much. She imagined herself in the life she wanted to live; a small, perfect family of three, living in a house in a nice neighborhood with a big backyard where Eddie could run around.

Eddie. After two years of abuse, Eddie was her breaking point. It only happened once. It only had to happen once. When Al smacked the small boy over the head, citing the fact that he had knocked over a can of beer that was hovering dangerously close to the edge of the coffee table anyway, Vivianne saw red. After cursing her husband out and successfully ducking the punches he threw her way, she decided it was time. Time to set her and her son free. She didn't think she could ever stand to see her baby cry like that ever again.

That night, curled up in a rocking chair with a crying Eddie in her arms, she promised. 'I'll get you out, baby. I promise, okay? It may take me some time, but I'll get you safe. I love you too much, baby,' she cooed while pressing her cheek against his head.

~~~

As the years passed, she watched the abuse continue. Al started to hand it out regularly to both her and Eddie. With each passing day, the cracks on the surface of her heart deepened. She couldn't stand to hear another yelp or cry of pain from her little boy. She cared more for him than she did the heavens above, and she knew that watching this happen was slowly killing them both.

Right before Eddie turned ten, she confided in the only plan she could think of; Wayne. Wayne was Al's younger brother, whom she had known when they were in high school. She was actually closer in age to Wayne, and she knew now that she should have gone with him instead of with his older brother. But she had wanted Al. She couldn't, even now, put her finger on exactly what had drawn her to Al. Was it is bad reputation? The maturity she felt when telling other freshman girls that she was dating a senior? The reason escaped her.

But she knew now that Wayne was her last chance to get her child out of this. Her time had passed; she had made her bed, and now she must lie in it. But Eddie? She couldn't bear it. He had so much more life to live, and so many gifts to share with the world, that wouldn't happen or be released if he was stuck here. She had already kept him here too long because, selfishly, she wanted to hold him close to her. She wanted to hug and kiss him and tuck him in at night. But it became clear to her that it would hurt him more to stay than it would hurt her to leave.

So, in the middle of the night, she packed his things into a small backpack, carried him out to her car, started up the engine, and sped quietly off to Hawkins, Indiana.

It was a short drive; she and Al had taken up residence just 20 minutes outside Hawkins because they liked the scenery when they first bought the house. Now, it was a decrepit and lonely wood; but when they first moved in, it felt full of life.

That was how she felt. Once she had been beautiful and hungry to live; now she, too, was decrepit. The years of stress and abuse had aged her. She looked and felt older, she didn't read or play with her son any longer. She was now only doing the things she needed to do in order to survive. This thought made tears brim in her eyes as she drove down the dark and winding roads into Hawkins, her son asleep in the backseat.

When she first had him, she imagined a happy life for him. One where he could do anything he ever dreamed of doing, one where he was free. Now, she saw, that her son would never be free. These shackles in which she had borne him would live in his heart forever. He could never truly have complete serenity in his life. Her heart ached with guilt, feeling as if she had done this to him. If she hadn't stayed with Al or even if she had married someone else, his life could have been different. Both their lives could have been different.

~~~

She pulled into the trailer park, the soft rain pattering the car roof. She turned off the engine and sat in the front seat for a while, staring at the darkness that enveloped the world in front of her. She took a deep yet shaky breath, opened her door, and entered the dark, cold night.

There was a chill in the air as she slung Eddie's backpack over her shoulder and shook him gently. "C'mon, Eds, up we go," she said, taking hold of both of his hands and walking him out of the car. The small child was only partially awake, yet knew to follow his mother as she tugged his hand softly to the wooden stairs of his uncle's trailer.

As they waited quietly at the front door, she ran her hands through the small mop of curls on his head. They may have been the same, but they could not have looked more different. She, with her blonde wavy locks, and him with deep brown curls. She, with ocean-blue eyes. He, with eyes so brown it looked like they went on forever. Now those eyes looked onto hers with a deep, intense curiosity. His eyes asked all the questions his voice did not; Where am I? What are we doing here? Where are you going to go? Are you going to leave? "It's all going to be okay. Promise," she said, sticking out her pinky. He hooked his own pinky into hers and the promise was sealed.

Looking older and tired than Vivi had remembered, Wayne opened the door begrudgingly. He took the sight before him in. The two shadows of his past were now on his doorstep. Eddie had taken refuge behind his mother’s leg and was watching the man as he chatted with his mother. He welcomed them inside, and Vivianne coaxed Eddie into the doorway with her. "I'm sorry, he's shy. Eddie, say hello to your uncle," she spoke in a very soft, comforting tone. Eddie waved slightly at the older man, who chuckled and waved back. Vivianne squatted in front of Eddie, handing him his backpack that was still over her shoulder. "Uncle Wayne and I are gonna have a talk, okay? Why don't you go and sit on the couch?" she said. He agreed, walking skittishly over to the brown leather couch.

"Wayne, I know this is a lot to ask. I understand I'm coming to you with a lot of stuff. But I am truly afraid for him. Al's gonna put me in the ground. I know he's going to. And I have to live with the mistakes that I've made. But goddamnit, I will not let him touch my baby. If I leave him with Al, his fate will be as good as sealed. I don't think that I could ever forgive myself for that," Vivi explained, tears following the words, as she sat at the table across from Wayne. "I know you have a life, Wayne, and that this is probably the last thing you need, but just for a few months. After I'm gone, you can put him in an orphanage or in foster care or whatever you want to do. Just let me die with the hope that he's safe, okay?"

Wayne barely stopped to think before he agreed. Something deep inside of him compelled him to say yes, to keep the small boy sitting on his couch safe.

Upon the soil of his daughter's grave, he could plant a new seed, a seed that would this time flourish into a tree, sprouting its branches up toward the sun.

apparently we have a type of man ...

long-haired man >>>>

Reblog if you're not homophobic

Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad. 

Every human life deserves safety. It doesn't matter what side you are on. Every human life deserves safety.

a list of vetted fundraisers sent to me recently. i apologize for not sharing them earlier, i haven't had access to my askbox, but here they are now. Thank you for sending your campaigns to me and i will do my best to donate what i can to each. please share and donate, even just a little!

Help Ahmed, Abedelrahman, and family Escape war from @ahmedalnabeeh11 - they are 2/3 of the way there but still need to raise $10,000!

Donate to Ahmed's Journey to Safety and Education organized by @ahmadresh. this is @mohiy-gaza's brother! He still needs $7,000.

Help me and my family escape the war in Gaza from @asmaayyad. Asma reached out a few weeks ago but the campaign for her family is still very low and there are a lot of people depending on it!!

Help Musab and his family,my pets survive this war in Gaza from @musababd. Musab's previous account and campaign were mistakenly flagged as fraud and he had to start over, but it is indeed a verified campaign.

Help us for the sake of God from @abdelmutei. another big family who has to raise a LOT of money. please help them!!

Help us and my elderly parents to get out of the war from @nedaapalestine. Nedaa's parents need medications they cannot access in Gaza.

Help Nour and his family escape from the war in Gaza from @noorabd1992. this is a relatively new campaign and needs a lot of support, please donate what you can!

Hope for Gaza: Support Ashraf's Family Rebuild Their Lives from @ashraf-family2. Ashraf has reached out to me before and is so close to reaching the campaign goal, but they still need about $4,000 more!

Get my relatives out of Gaza from @ghaziyounes1967. Despite being several months old, this fundraiser is stuck at $2,000 because of high cost of food and supplies in Gaza, as with each of the families and individuals above.

Please support Palestinians in whatever way you can--even just donating to one or two campaigns will lessen the load for everyone! If you cannot donate, share and reblog, i specifically linked people's accounts in this post so you can reblog their fundraiser posts individually. Free Palestine