#cousins who are in america

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Honestly though, being serious with all the Kate and William theories and rumors going on, I do hope their kids are doing okay and will come out of this fine, because it cannot be easy for the kids to be stuck in the middle of all this.

[atopvisenyashill]

A Mistress of Whispers: Queer Histories of Essosi Witches and their Westerosi Patronessess; written by Maester Ellard

-> Chapter Six: The Winds of Winter: Catelyn Stark and Samaira of Lys

What if Brown Ben Plumm was a sexy widowed witch mom who became besties with a High Born Lady, in this case Catelyn Stark, as Essosi gentleladies are known to do? Or well Brown Ben Plumm’s cousin, anyways-

The Walder Frey pictured here is in fact Big Walder Frey, of “murdering Little Walder Frey” fame. Humfrey Hightower, Joy Penrose, Viserys Plumm, and everyone in Catelyn’s house hold & court are canon characters. Except for Teora, who is on the Northern map bc Jocelyn Stark was her grandma. There are some husbands missing but idc about them.

arya to myranda: if you’re one of the first men how come you’re white?

sansa: seven hells arya you can’t just ask people why they’re white.

Chapter Index for the book

Cruel Bedfellows: Tyanna of Pentos, Alys Harroway, and the reign of Maegor Targaryen

The Whore on High Hill: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Mysaria of Lys

Jenny’s Ghost: Duncan Targaryen, Jenny of Oldstones, and The Mysterious Ghost

The Lace Serpent: On Questions About Serala of Myr

The Queen’s Favor: Cersei Lannister and Taena of Myr

The Winds of Winter: Catelyn Stark and Samaria of Lys

The Serpents of Gulltown: Myranda Arryn and Lessella of Norvos

picture maester ellard like

he puts forth a theory that the ghost of high heart was a slave from volantis. he highly suggests something romantic between jenny and her ghost. he implies denys darklyn was a cross dresser - first draft outright stated it but the archmaester said he can’t print that about a westerosi lord, only the essosi ones so he rewrote it to be implied. he does use she pronouns for ellyn. he does not use he pronouns for amalios. he tastefully accuses taena of killing ned, jon arryn, joffrey, and kevan.

[cursedauxiliary]

T-Minus 15 before my dad has an argument with my mom bc she doesn't wanna go visit our shitty cousins that hate her !

[bucephaly]

Just curious, where would you recommend starting genealogy research? I’m mostly curious more than anything, thought I don’t think having Native American lineage is likely for me?

Start by talking to your family and writing down as much info as you can. Names of grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, whatever you can. Birth dates and places they lived as well.

I do genealogy thru ancestry.com and it's mostly great but I know some people have problems with it. You can get a 2 week free trial and you might be able to get plenty of your tree filled out in that time.

Then, just put in what info you got from your parents, and look for census records. US Census records from 1950 and earlier are public, so start there. I was able to go back to my gg grandfather just thru censuses, and then I was able to find his Dawes card. I have gone back further but the farther back it goes the less reliable anything is. Be wary of anything on ancestry or other sites where the only source is someone else's tree, because people can put whatever they want down and a lot of it is wrong. [For example, on other parts of my tree it's tried to connect me to pocahontas 3 times.]

Ofc this advice doesn't just apply for those looking for native ancestry, it's just general genealogy stuff and it's really interesting for anyone to learn about their ancestors (:

Sorry this might be specific to the US, I'm not familiar with how records work elsewhere.

Good luck!

[whimsycore]

My new strategy instead of ignoring people who I know are being racist/bigoted towards me isn’t to ignore them like I have been but to straight up talk their ear off especially in front of thier friends and annoy them because truly when you’re quiet people assume thier own biases are true and they spread it around. I’m gonna be a proud yapper and see how that turns peoples opinions.

[beeapocalypse]

haunted once more by a dumb character idea

[222nomorebeer]

Once you have an ED you develop an ED sixth sense which can be stopped at nothing and can detect any and all eating disorders ever

[whoviandoodler]

grandma's real bad for my 'don't anger yourself into further digestive disorders' goal

[runawaymarbles]

apparently you have to put the car in "park" to take the key out and also align the key to the proper constellations

[attila-werther]

one of my cousins was cracking gender jokes about how I dress when we took my sister and her boyfriend to the mall and it was funny as hell!!! and I have to go back. to america after this?? screaming.

[youvegotmailpdf]

BREAKING NEWS 2day i wrote ….!!!! only 603 words as of now but its for this idea ive wanted to get into for sooo long i stare at the pinterest board for it all the time and i finally had a breakthru for it !!! scream

[faolonfiendrender]

Okay, I’m gonna write something.

Miss Le Miestre kicked the church door shut as she jumped to the inside. Two shots followed her in.

“Those connards are back. Barely got away, but this ol girl can still weave like she used to. Please tell me the rest of ya have more than that rifle Madame Reyes carries between ya.”

Miss Reyes spoke up first “Got a Colt in my boot. Same one the knife is strapped to. Draw it to surprise fools who think I’m going for a knife.”

Mr. Darby was the next, he said nothing, simply produced a derringer seemingly out of thin air, and then a stiletto in his other hand.

Mister Mori was the last to say anything.

“I apologize, but I have not had a chance to purchase a gun yet. If I could borrow one from one of you, I’d be quite grateful. I am better with rifles, but I understand if Miss Reyes doesn’t want to give me her rifle”

Miss Reyes handed Mister Mori her rifle before retrieving the revolver from her boot. She then stared directly at Miss Le Miestre and asked one question.

“You got a gun?”

In response, Miss Le Miestre removed her blue longcoat, revealing that beyond her cutlass, she had kept two flintlocks, one with an ivory handle, the other with jet, as well as an imported European revolver.

“I have a handful of guns, I’ll still never get used to those new-fangled revolvers, even if being able to shoot five times before clubbing someone with it is nice.”

Then she drew the revolver in her left hand, grabbing her cutlass with the right as Mister Mori crouched behind a pew and Mr. Darby and Miss Reyes stepped to the side of the door.

Miss Le Miestre stepped towards the door, deciding that she’d insult them in English so they could understand, and shouted to the men outside, all of whom were dressed in old grey uniforms and wore improvised masks.

“I’m coming out ya damned bastards! I’ll make all you regret not giving up when you could, I’ve been making scared little devils like you die since your grandfathers were cabin boys!”

She kicked open the doors, firing her revolver from the hip to make all eight of the men outside take cover. She then ducked back into the church, drew her jet-handled gun, and made ready.

The first of the men stood up from behind a barrel, Mister Mori put a bullet in his head before he’d fully processed what happened. Seconds which felt like hours passed. One of the survivors stuck his repeating rifle above a wagon and started firing, as soon as Mister Mori ducked to avoid the gunfire the four of the men ran down to flank the door while the three left in the street stood with rifles trained to keep their enemies from shooting out the doorway

Only one of the men going to flank made it, Miss Reyes shot two of them from inside the church window hitting both in the gut. And one made the mistake of trying to pull her through the window. She stabbed him with the knife on her belt as he grabbed her gunarm.

That left one man, one overconfident man. He knew he had to shoot Miss Reyes first, and then that rifleman. He knew there was no way the one who had attacked them had reloaded yet, and the limey one didn’t have a weapon.

So he tried just that, before a puff of smoke and the smell of black powder filled the air, and he fell to a weapon nearly a century older than he was.

During all this, Mr. Darby had slipped away out one of the other windows. He slipped back as he jumped from an awning behind the gunmen. He managed to shoot one of the men on the way down before stabbing another in the gut as he stood. The third man had his gun pointed at Mr. Darby in time to make him pause. Another click made the last man standing pause.

“Hey, we got business here, and I see that officer sabre on your belt. Think you can take an old woman in a swordfight? Get done with all this guns business?”

So, the last man standing out down the gun and drew. He figured that he’s more likely to survive this fight than the previous one.

At the same time, the man who fell in the church began crawling along. He knew to fake injury when shot. He’d take care of the rifleman first, a knife to the gut should work and then he’d shoot the vacquero.

Outside, metal clashed, the old pirate falling back into her familiar rhythm, high, low, step together and raise the sword at an angle. Try to cut his shoulder as he swung and missed. Skill was on her side, but her opponent was clearly never trained, he kept holding his saber in two hands, and yanking away when he felt a cut bounce off his guard. This made him an unpredictable brute, and somehow, he was gaining ground.

Inside, things had not gone as planned for the man with the knife. He had kicked the rifle away, and the tapestries that hung meant the gunslinger couldn’t get a good shot, but the rifleman was good up close. He seemed to flow around the knife, even as low as both were. A kick found Mister Mori’s hip, and he fell across a familiar sheath. He rolled backwards as the knife tried to reach his gut. He took the sheath with him. He stood up and faced the man with the knife, both out of reach from the other, hand on the hilt of his sword as his foe stepped forwards

Outside, Miss Le Miestre found herself losing ground, so she stepped back, holding her sword out with one hand to stop her opponent’s advance for but a second. Her opponent swatted the cutlass to the side, but he should have paid attention to the other hand instead.

A loud bang echoed. A blade glimmered silently. Both of the gunmen still standing clutched their guts. One felt immense pain, the other felt nothing even as his blood fell on the church floor. Both fell, one backwards and one forwards. A pirate put her ivory-handled pistol back in her belt, and a samurai put his bronze-hilted sword back in its sheath.

Consider:

Victorian England: 1837-1901

American Old West: 1803-1912

Meiji Restoration: 1868-1912

French privateering in the Gulf of Mexico: ended circa 1830

Conclusion: an adventuring party consisting of a Victorian gentleman thief, an Old West gunslinger, a disgraced former samurai, and an elderly French pirate is actually 100% historically plausible.

[taliesinman]

normalize taking the time to unlearn your cultural historical mythos actually

[burnt-scone]

Pennybomb | America's Next Top Hitmaker

Please vote for my Goth Cousin's Indie Husband's band

You can vote every 12 hours

[captaincalamity]

to be fair you can actively be the faggot america AND the redneck agenda

[uwmspeccoll]

The author, Angela Hovak Johnston.

Johnston and Marjorie Tungwenuk Tahbone, traditional tattoo artist.

Catherine Niptanatiak: "I designed my own, something that represents me and who I am, something that I would be proud to wear and show off, and something that would make me feel confident and beautiful. . . . I have daughters and I would like to teach them what I know. I would like for them to want to practice our traditions and keep our culture alive."

Cecile Nelvana Lyall: "On my hand tattoos, from the top down, the triangles represent the mountains. . . . The Ys are the tools used in seal hunting. . . . The dots are my ancestors. . . . I am so excited to be able to truly call myself and Inuk woman."

Colleen Nivingalok: "The tattoos on my face represent my family and me. The lines on my chin are my four children -- my two older boys on the outside protecting my daughters. The lines on my cheeks represent the two boys and the two girls on either side. The one on my forehead represents their father and me. Together, we live for our children."

Doreen Ayalikyoak Evyagotailak: "I have thought about getting traditional tattoos since I was a teenager. . . . When I asked the elders if I could have my own meaning for my tattoos, they said it wouldn't matter. My tattoos symbolize my kids."

Mary Angele Takletok: "I always wanted traditional tattoos like the women in the old days. I wanted them on my wrists and my fingers so I could show I'm Inuk."

Melissa MacDonald Hinanik: "As a part of celebrating my heritage and revitalizing important traditional customs that form my identity, I believe I have earned my tattoos. I am a beautiful, strong young woman. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an active community member. I reclaim the traditional customs as mine, I re-own them as a part of who I am."

Star Westwood: "We still have some of our culture, but some things are slowly dying. Having tattoos helps us keep our culture alive. . . . . My tattoos represent my dad and my dad's dad. The ones closest to my wrists represent my sisters."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

National Tattoo Day

July 17 is National Tattoo Day. To celebrate, we present some images from Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines: Revitalizing Inuit Traditional Tattooing, compiled by Angela Hovak Johnston, co-founder with Marjorie Tahbone of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, with photographs by Inuit photographer Cora DeVos, and published in Iqaluit, Nunavut by Inhabit Media Inc. in 2017.

For thousands of years, Inuit have practiced the traditional art of tattooing. Created the ancient way, with bone needles and caribou sinew soaked in seal oil, sod, or soot, these tattoos were an important tradition for many Inuit women, symbols etched on their skin that connected them to their families and communities. But with the rise of missionaries and residential schools in the North, the tradition of tattooing was almost lost. In 2005, when Angela Hovak Johnston heard that the last Inuk woman tattooed in the old way had died, she set out to tattoo herself in tribute to this ancient custom and learn how to tattoo others. What was at first a personal quest became a project to bring the art of traditional tattooing back to Inuit women across Nunavut.

Collected in this book are photos and stories from more than two dozen women who participated in Johnston's project. Together, these women have united to bring to life an ancient tradition, reawakening their ancestors' lines and sharing this knowledge with future generations. Hovak Johnston writes: "Never again will these Inuit traditions be close to extinction, or only a part of history you read about in books. This is my mission."

Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines forms part of our Indigenous America Literature Collection.

Angela Hovak Johnston (right) with her cousin Janelle Angulalik and her aunt Millie Navalik Angulalik.

View other posts from our Indigenous America Literature Collection.