Wow, That’s Gut-wrenching. This Is Evangeline, Right? I’m Really Enjoying All The Little Titbits

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesn’t

Bloody love lotr!

Is the Tolkien fandom dead?

Reblog if you are a fan!

bisexuals will see someone in period clothes and be like yes

This is super adorable! Silver and cats go perfectly together, thanks for writing.

Could you write Silver getting a cat please?

Silver smiled, the corners of his lips curling slowly as he listened to the kitten purr as it eagerly nuzzled its forehead against the side of his leg. “That will not make me go any quicker.” He muttered, not that the pet would ever respond with much more than a Miaow or even more purring.

He regularly spoke to the cat now that it was a semi-regular staple in the house, coming and going as it pleased, he wasn’t even entirely sure on the creature’s name, he just called it ‘Little’, but always coming around the same time in the evening, when Silver was preparing a meal.

He could have had a maid do it, but Silver found something quite enjoyable in the art of cookery, something about the way that he could put his own unique twist on classic recipes, and the way that whoever he was dining with for the night would savour their meal, before their dessert upstairs.

But tonight, it was just Little that joined him, jumping up through the window that he’d left open to allow them in, and then down again, to slink around his ankles and serve as a tripping hazard as he searched for the bundle of rosemary in the cupboard.

He kept some fish, usually just tinned mackerel, for Little, but as he was cooking fish for himself that night, he had put some to the side, covered with a glass dome, for Little to eat with him.

“If you will be patient, we can sit down and eat together.” Silver said, finding the herbs out, more for garnish than anything, in some of the more high tech worlds that he had visited (he hadn’t particularly enjoyed them even if the mobiles had made finding partners so much easier)he could have made a killing posting pictures of his meals to one of the various social media sites that they all seemed to have. Instapin or something like that, he couldn’t remember.

He scooped Little up and put them on a cushioned chair, he then frowned and left the room. He came back in with two more cushions, picked Little up again (who had jumped up onto the counter to sniff at his meal) and set him on top of the two cushions on top of the chair, so that he could reach his plate.

“There we go, a little more civilised.” He collected their plates and set Little’s down. “Bon Appetite.” He had a glass of wine by his seat and toasted the kitten. “What a way to spend a birthday.”

I mean, it’s not really his cat, but the cat does have him very well trained?

I actually fucking adore you for cranachan being there. I live in France and at Uni we have a lot of international dinners and since I’m veggie and have no oven whatsoever (rather shit) cranachan is always my beloved in this situation. It’s funny how many people can’t do the ch sound right either, it’s fabulous sharing cracking food from Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 especially cause everyone thinks its unremittingly abysmal. Also had not a clue about the chicken tikka masala legend Ali Ahmed Aslam who’s from my own city and this post prompted some reminisces about the phenomenal curries that we have been honoured to witness and found out that my da loves the Shish Mahal and frequented it a fair bit in the old days though his preferred method of self-immolation was a chicken bhuna. Thanks for this post, much cherished though I have a wretched yearning for a good scone, not really an option in Normandie lol.

i tried to explain what generational trauma is to someone recently and they were like “oh so because something happened historically, you get to have issues about it now?” and no.... that’s not what that is.

when i was in 8th grade, on my class trip to washington dc, we visited the holocaust museum. it’s a wonderful, extensive, informative place, and it’s a beautiful tribute to the victims. as a jewish kid, i knew what the holocaust was. i’d faced antisemetism every day of my life, and will continue to do so. i knew what had happened to my ancestors not too long ago.

but when i stood in that museum. in the recreation of the cattle trains used to move us to the camps. in the recreation of an auschwitz cabin, staring at the map of the camp. when i saw the pile of shoes and jewelry taken from the victims. when i learned how their hair, so very much like mine, was cut for having texture. and how their teeth were pulled for the gold fillings. i had a panic attack.

it was embarrassing, but i was a shitty little 8th grader, and i tried to hide it. but I couldn’t breathe. it was like there was a band around my chest the entire time i was in the museum. i was surrounded by ghosts, by the whispers of emaciated men and trapped women and crying children.

what is generational trauma?

it’s the psychological idea that trauma can be passed down through multiple different ways. trauma can change you significantly, even rewrite neural pathways and physically change how you think. that, paired with the cycle of subconsciously sharing our trauma with our children, as well as mixing with the trauma we learn as we grow, leads to some really rough patches in our relationships with our identites.

this is a really great 4 minute video from the healing foundation about the trauma carried by aboriginal people in Australia. tw for some really heavy topics, but all presented in a relaxed and serious environment.

what do we do?

well, honestly, i don’t know. it’s not like we’re gonna stop sharing our stories with our descendants, nor our histories. we can’t get rid of things related to our identities that give us our own trauma, the bigotry we face unfortunately isn’t going anywhere.

but being aware of your generational trauma is a good step. it’s not just being “sad” or “sensitive” to history. it’s our history still affecting us today. when your indigenous friends are made upset by discussions of colonization, when your black friends feel the weight of a millenia of racism placed on their shoulders, when your gay friends ask you to please stop using that word, when your trans friends see another historical figure deadnamed and misgendered, when your jewish friends can’t talk about the Shoah without their voices breaking.

so why the fuck are you lecturing us?

our murdered ancestors live on in us, in our eyes, our hearts. we are reminded of them constantly, made painfully aware of who we are and how many people hate us.

we were not supposed to survive, and if most of the world had their way, we wouldn’t have. (no, the allies were not heroes of wwii, you turned us away at your borders and continue to let us die from nazis today. if america had had the option, they wouldn’t have given a shit about jewish victims, but that’s a whole other essay i could write)

it’s time to start acknowledging the past, acknowledging your generational trauma and the trauma of those around you. i’m not making up an excuse to “have issues”. at the time i’m writing this, october 2020, i’m 17. i have felt this weight my entire life, and i will continue to shoulder it, as will everyone else.

my point is, maybe we can shoulder that weight together. maybe then it won’t weigh us down as badly. we have solidarity, and we are tough, and resilient, and strong, and beautiful. your generational trauma is something to be aware of, but not ashamed of. we can do this—change the world for the better. we can break the cycle so our descendants don’t feel as we do.

Super importante

If you call pedophilia a kink please unfollow me and never talk to me again

What’s your group chat called

You know what’s great- HALLOUMI! It is such a fantastic cheese, I genuinely get cravings for it. Yeah, I understand the French cheese love that you’ve got going on.

Irern: So what’s for dinner?

Vale: [staring at the food he just burnt] Regret.