west of the mississippi

anonymous asked:

Hi love! What would you say the top ten sterek fics you've ever read are?

This was REALLY HARD. Mainly bc it’s hard to choose only 10. Because I’m leaving off some great fics (which is why there are more than 10 on here :3)! And some I get mixed up bc I read them so long ago and near each other. (You can always browse my fave fic list here) But I’ve narrowed it to this list. These are the fics that really left impressions on me. They’re all amazing and deserve to be read and loved!!! So…have a TOP 27 FAVE STEREK FICS list :DDDD

1. Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah

In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha’s mate back, and peace talks can begin.

2. Where the Inevitable Isn’t by Survivah

Stiles has a magical thingamajig that’s supposed to get him out of danger. Trouble is, it took him really, really far out of danger. Like, to the point where he isn’t in the same universe anymore.

“A part of Stiles had been thinking that he’d come home, and just go, ‘hey, Derek, are we mates and you just haven’t said anything about it?’ and Derek would reply, ‘now you mention it, we are indeed! Now come to my bedchamber, where we will have super hot sex and then cuddle after!’”

3. Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

4. Our Memories Are Numbered by rufflefeather

Stiles’ Jeep grinds to a halt, he sees someone running through the rain, he’s not expecting it to be Derek. He’s not expecting a Derek without any memories either, or an Alpha pack that’s coming for all of them. He probably should’ve, because lately nothing goes the way he expects.

5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum by morganoconner

Space contains a multitude of different species, and Derek has seen and helped a lot of them in his time taking down branches of the slave-trade organization. But this is the first time he’s seen an Aloshrivnik. It’s not the tentacles that draw him in; it’s the goddamn eyes that stare at him without backing down.

“Stiles,” it says to him. “My name is Stiles.”

6. Part of My Melody by hayesgeneration

Derek is a professional classical musician who has found himself lost without a muse, without goal and without even a hint of spark. He’s almost settled nearly contently (if not slightly unwillingly) on having to live his life as a recluse, when his sister finally grows tired of his antics, giving him a Christmas ultimatum.

7. Littlest Alpha by triedunture

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

8. Holding Your Own Weight by zjofierose

Stiles Stilinski is the best trapeze artist west of the Mississippi, but that doesn’t do him much good without a catcher. Enter one quiet roughneck who calls himself Derek and knows maybe a little too much about circus arts for someone who was hired to schlep tents. But Derek has his secrets, and so does the new girl, Allison. Who’s being hunted and who’s being haunted, and will Stiles ever be able to convince Derek to help him fly again?

Keep reading

Stormpilot: Gay Cowboy Style

Poe Dameron.

Most notorious outlaw West of the Mississippi. Maybe East of it as well. He wouldn’t know. Never had much cause to go back that way.

It was unsurprising, given his parentage. Ma’s brains and pa’s shooting were the two gifts they’d left him before they passed, and they’d served him well all his life.

He’d been more or less on his own ever since. He partnered up when it suited him, but extending trust too far had taught him lessons early on he wasn’t likely to forget, and once he cleared adolescence he made it policy never to let anyone get too close.

He was a rogue of the West, and spent his days creating headaches and causing trouble for the men he deemed unfit to lead, relieving them of goods and wealth he didn’t think they deserved. He spent his days helping folk who needed it- and helping himself when he needed it- and always staying one step ahead of the law.

He never expected one day he’d be in desperate need of help from someone else.

And he most definitely never expected that help to come from a deputy of the most corrupt sheriff the West had ever seen.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Poe had a tendency to walk into every town like he owned the place. It didn’t always serve him well, but who didn’t love a good bar brawl now and then? Got the juices flowin’. Made a man feel alive.

Still, he was forced to admit it may have been a poor move, heading into the township of Sheriff Ren with an excess of swagger and a defect of fear… especially given their history, and how much of a rotten pissant the man was.

Sure enough, he’d only just finished his first whiskey and started scoping about for the right kind of gamblers to swindle out of their gold (trying to be too intrigued by that guy in the corner by himself, drinking quietly with his head down and what look’s like the weight of the world on his shoulders), when the cavalry arrived, a veritable storm of bounty hunters, deputies and average folk wanting a piece of the prize. They clutched wanted posters and pistols in their fists and had dollar signs in their eyes.

Goddamn.

He gave them a run for their money. At least he liked to tell himself as much when he thought back on it years later, but the men he’d rode into town with proved yellow as soon as the first wave of hunters came into the saloon. Turned tail faster than a beat dog.

Not surprising.

Poe had a knack for getting himself out of dicey situations, usually through the use of his considerable wit, charm and his blessedly dashing looks. Sadly, it seemed talking his way out of this one wasn’t going to work for once. Sheriff Ren had lost a whole lot of good money on account of Poe, and he was not the forgiving type.

Poe’s luck, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

___

He was set to be hanged at high noon, but the noose never touched his neck.

Not, sadly, due to any ingenious plan of his own, but by the mercy of a complete stranger.

The most courageous and hopelessly naive man he’d ever come across in his life or probably ever would again.

His goddamn hero.

Finn.

They escaped by the skin of their teeth and headed into the wilds. Poe was pretty banged up, courtesy of Sheriff Kylo Ren and his lackeys, but there was air in his lungs and blood still pumped in his veins, and for that he was infinitely grateful. He also had a certain amount of gratitude for the gentleness of the courageous stranger’s hands, and the way he doctored Poe’s wounds with such patience and care, never once commenting if Poe winced or cried out in pain.

He tried not to dwell on that bit, and managed for the most part.

The Sheriff, it seemed, was not a man to be trifled with. For Poe to have crossed him not once but twice and still be breathing was already more than he could handle. That he’d managed to escape through betrayal by one of his own deputies was more than he could bear.

He pursued them relentlessly.

With such enormous targets on their backs, it only made sense to stick together, to watch one another’s until the danger passed.

Just for a while, Poe told himself.

‘Til they got far enough away Ren would give up, if that ever happened.

In the mean time, Finn was doing this really unsettling thing where he was acting like a good man and it was doing a number on Poe’s carefully constructed walls. He had determined long before meeting Finn that that such men didn’t exist, or were few and far between. He tried not to like him overmuch, but you can’t be around that kind of relentless earnestness and not be affected by it.

In a thousand little ways, without even knowing it Finn seemed dead set on shaking him up and proving his closely held beliefs wrong.

He did it again and again, and Poe was powerless to stop it. He did it with his easy laugh, or the way it just seemed so easy for him to dole out kindness. In the way he tended to horses, always chattering away to them as he did, calling them pretty when they were good and chastising them when they weren’t. In the way he always offered up peppermint or licorice when he got a stash in town, or the way his eyes sparkled with enjoyment when he and Poe argued about the merits (or lack thereof) of licorice, or whatever silly thing they picked to fill up the quiet.

He didn’t even make it a week before he started thinking of Finn as the best damn friend he’d ever had.

 

It had been over a year since Finn cut him down from the gallows and out of the jaws of death.

Ren stopped chasing them, or at least lost their trail, but they never did manage to part ways. At this point, Poe was certain the only way Finn would ever get rid of him would be if he decided to pump him full of bullets and leave him for dead.

Dammit, even if he did that (not that Poe could even imagine it), Poe was sure he’d crawl across the entire fucking desert just to look him in the eyes and ask him why.

Finn wasn’t just his friend any more.

He wanted him to be, desperately but more than half a year ago, things had started to get twisted up in Poe’s head and he couldn’t untangle them. Maybe longer ago than that.

He tried not to think about it, and by day they were usually too busy outrunning and outgunning trouble for him to fret about it. But by night, the yearning had started to creep in, and it was all Finn’s goddamn fault.

Finn was too goddamn soft.

It was impossible not to think about him in the kinda way a man shouldn’t think about another. His eyes were kind and his laugh was easy, and Poe spent so much time just trying to avert his gaze, to push down the longing so he wouldn’t act like a damn fool and scare off the best thing that ever happened to him. Because that’s what Finn was.

The kind of man who’d take a bullet for you without a second thought. The kind of man you could tell things to, things Poe never thought he’d say out loud to anyone. Things about his parents, or the things Poe did to survive in the first few years after their passing. Things he never wanted to say, things he never thought he could, seemed to just come out of him when he looked at chocolate colored eyes gleaming in the firelight, sensitive and patient.

Stopping the thing inside him is impossible, Poe knew that. Poe didn’t think anyone who lived a life in such shadow could come into contact with the light that was Finn and not come ti love him with every last bit of themselves.

Stopping such feelings was more than impossible, but controlling them wasn’t. At nights, he laid awake and thought about what Finn’s strong arms would feel like around him, what those beautiful hands would feel like on his body, but by days he smiled at him but never for too long.


And then one night at their campfire, when the ache had gotten so bad that Poe thought he might just get on his horse and ride away and never look back, Finn simply leaned over and pressed his lips against Poe’s. It was gentle and his lips were soft, and it lasted only seconds before he pulled back and fixed Poe with a stare that was equal parts heated and terrified.

Poe’s heart nearly stopped and his brain worked overtime trying to catch up on what had just happened, that brief, beautiful and entirely unexpected thing.

They’d run outta whiskey two nights before, so there was no way he could blame it on…

So that meant…did Finn want…?

“If I crossed a line, and you wanna take a swing at me, I understand,” Finn said, eyes downcast but still reflecting firelight. “Though I’d take it as kindness if you didn’t,” he mumbled, and something inside Poe exploded, because how could Finn not know, how could he not know that he was everything? From the minute he cut him down from the gallows, and every minute after.

Then show him, growled an impatient voice in his head, and he finally had the sense to take Finn by the jaw and return his kiss hard enough to hurt.

And that was it.

The end of the longing, the beginning of a life he never knew he wanted.

They got by on skirting the law for another couple of years. Finn, in spite of his charming naivety, proved useful in a fight and could usually be trusted to help carry out a scheme of Poe’s without difficulty.

They kept it up, toeing the lines of right and wrong to get by, but once they realized the extent of the thing between them, they knew it was time to stop running and start living.

So that’s what they do.

They find themselves a nice-sized plot with the money they’ve taken from them who never deserved it, in a place where no one they’ve crossed will be likely to find them.

It’s not much, really, the life they have. No one else would ever find it particularly grand or exciting. The men he’d known in his glory days, the men he’d fought with, killed with…they’d laugh in his face to see him now. And maybe try to stick a knife in him for being so wrong.

Poe doesn’t care. He has Finn now, Finn who is the best man he’s ever known, maybe the best man who ever lived. He has Finn however he wants, whenever he wants and Finn has him back.

In the bed they share, on the rug in front of the wood stove. In the grassy field under the summer sun, or when they crawl out of the creek after a swim, shivering and nude and in need of the best kind of warmth. After they bicker over whether or not raising chickens is worth the effort, after Finn shows him how to make a cobbler.

No matter where it is, no matter what leads to it, from the first time as young, men embarking on something alien and terrifying, to the very last, when they’re both gray and more than a little achey, every single time, it’s home.

ETA: Didn’t realize you could post graphics on AO3. Now there’s a version of it on there too. 

anonymous asked:

How should someone respectfully salute a woman they met for the first time?

Thank you for coming to me with this question.

The first thing you absolutely must do is accept the fact that a woman met for the first time will take it as a grave insult if you have no visible muffin on your person. Understandably one can’t be expected to carry around a muffin at all times, so if you come upon a woman whom you haven’t met before and you are, at the time, unmuffined, you should immediately cover both of your eyes with you left hand, and place yourself flat on the ground, face down, as quickly as you can (use your right hand for support). Then you must emit a sharp whistle, followed by a long voiceless alveolar trill, transcribed thus: [r̥ːːː]. This will indicate to the unmet woman that you mean no disrespect, and were simply caught off-guard by her sudden appearance. At this point, the unmet woman should continue on her way. Be aware that it is within her rights to step not just over, but on your body as she continues on her way (for more on this, see Corbitt v. Russell). If you believe that the unmet woman has moved out of your line of sight, you should ask as loudly as you can, “Are the frocks still on the bannister, or hasn’t Uncle Harry explained?” If you receive no response, you are safe to get up off the ground and continue your day. If the unmet woman is still within earshot, though, she will began to shake and hiss violently. If you hear this, it’s advisable to remain on the ground and to keep still and quiet. Don’t try asking again until a full hour has passed.

Now, assuming you do have your muffin with you, should you come across an unmet woman, you need not be alarmed. Whether or not the unmet woman has caught sight of you, you must immediately say, “Hop! Hop!” Say it quite loudly, but no need to shout. If the unmet woman is unaware of your presence, this will draw her attention. If she is already aware of your presence, though, she will take it as a sign of respect that you still went to the trouble of saying, “Hop! Hop!” With that done, place your muffin in your left hand, and then with your right hand, tear off a small piece. Having done so, raise your right knee quite high in the air (as high as you can), and then step down nice and forcefully, while at the same time executing a clockwise quarter turn. Facing this direction, toss away the bit of muffin in your right hand proclaiming, “To the sun!” Execute the same series of steps, and then, when facing away from the unmet woman, proclaim, “To the moon!”, and toss your second bit of muffin away. Repeating the same steps and facing a new direction, you will toss your third bit of muffin away, proclaiming, “To the moon!”* Finally one executes the last quarter turn and, rather than tossing, eats the last bit of muffin, offering, after the bit has been swallowed, “To a divine morning of auspicious portent.” At this point one executes a half turn, facing completely away from the unmet woman, and sits down, cross-legged. The muffin is then placed upside-down atop one’s head. If the muffin stays, the woman is considered respectably met. If the muffin falls forwards, towards the greeter, the meeting has gone awry, and the entire affair is considered a failure. If the muffin falls towards the unmet woman, she may replace it on the greeter’s head and give it another try, or she may toss the muffin in the street, continuing on her way. If the muffin falls in any other direction, this is considered a draw, and both parties continue on their way, officially having never met.

Regarding the type of muffin, there are at least nine different major opinions on the matter. Naturally, attitudes have changed through time, but most commenters agree that a non-apple cinnamon muffin is the safest bet. It’s prudent to avoid fruit flavored muffins of any kind before Labor Day. After Labor Day, it really depends on whom you ask. Most agree that apple is always in season, but Collins (1913) disagrees sharply. According to Collins, the only suitable fruit flavored muffin after Labor Day is lemon, but both Chesterfield (1869) and modern commenters Selwig (1994) and Mayors (2002) suggest lemon muffins are suitable only in the spring. As noted in Malcolm, Rodriguez, & Morgan (2016), modern women are far less traditional than in decades past, so it’s best to adhere to recent surveys of woman meeting practices, like Dante (2004), Huang (2007), and the seminal 2011 study “Muffins in the New Millennium: How modern women are redefining the commoditization of space in nouveaux interpersonal interactions” by Mansfield, et al.

The important thing is to not think too much about it. It always seems like a big to do on paper, but the truth of the matter is we meet many woman every single year, and with Amazon’s Prime Now, purchasing fresh, interesting muffins has never been simpler—or cheaper. So relax! When a new woman comes along, so long as you’ve got a muffin with you, you’ll know what to do.

(Oh, but of course, NO BANANA NUT MUFFINS. lol Sometimes it’s so obvious you feel like you don’t even need to say it, but in the interests of being thorough, there you go. And again, I really am just being thorough; please don’t take it amiss that I’m stating something so obvious! After all, we all have to learn some time, and this post may be someone’s first exposure to the art and science of respectfully saluting women.)

*For those wondering why one says “To the moon!” twice in a row, it’s actually a bit of a historical accident. Originally, one said, “To the mode!” This persisted until the 19th century, when some confusion was introduced into the system. In territories west of the Mississippi, it was common to say, “To the main!” on the third toss [for obvious reasons, given the region], and this custom was passed on in various forms further west and to the south. These individuals misinterpreted the word, though, and simply substituted a second “moon” in its place. This is the wording that came into vogue in California, when the short silent film A Dame for to Court was shot. The film was a hit, and played in theaters all the way from Avalon to Albany. Younger folk especially began to replace the original “mode” with “moon” as a direct result of the film’s influence. This at the time was known as “Doing the Dame”—a phrase which was grossly misinterpreted in later years. Its origin aside, though, the practice persists to this day.

anonymous asked:

Have any of the Southern states raised or looked after other states or territories?

Thanks for the ask!

Yes, many southern states have raised territories in their lifetime. South Carolina raised young North Carolina, and vice Versa. Virginia was in charge of Kentucky, West Virginia and many other baby colonies. Florida was raised alone, but Alabama and Mississippi was raised by Georgia, for a shot period of time. Arkansas was a lone wolf for their young life. North Carolina looked after Tennessee, and both are very close to each other

Texas has raised so many colonies they have lost count of them all. Most of them were Mexico’s, however

States don’t like to talk about the colonies they lost…

anonymous asked:

can you do a post on how each of the founding fathers felt about native americans?

I couldn’t find enough information to make a formal presentation- which I initially tried at first (which it took me to long to answer this- I apologize!) But I typed it up instead. 

Benjamin Franklin, felt sympathy for the Native Americans. He had acquired this first by publishing treaty accounts, then by taking part in treaty councils. On December 14, 1763, fifty-seven vigilantes from Paxton and Donegal, two frontier towns, rode into Conestoga Manor, an Indian settlement, and killed six of twenty Indians living there. Two weeks later, more than 200 “Paxton Men” (as they were now called) invaded Lancaster, where the remaining fourteen Conestoga Indians had been placed in a workhouse for their own protection. Smashing in the workhouse door as the outnumbered local militia looked on, the Paxton Men killed the rest of the Conestoga band, leaving the bodies in a heap within sight of the places where the Anglo-Iroquois alliance had been cemented less than two decades before. Franklin responded to the massacres with the an enraged piece of writing-  A Narrative of the Late Massacres in Lancaster County of a Number of Indians, Friends of this Province, by Persons Unknown. It displayed a degree of entirely humorless anger that Franklin rarely used in his writings. 

“But the Wickedness cannot be Covered, the Guilt will lie on the Whole Land, till Justice is done on the Murderers. THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT WILL CRY TO HEAVEN FOR VENGEANCE!”

Franklin went on to defend the Native Americans who were massacred. Franklin continued to develop his philosophy with abundant references to the Indian societies he had observed so closely during his days as envoy to the Six Nations. Franklin’s writings on Native Americans were remarkably free of ethnocentricism, although he often used words such as “savages,” . Franklin’s cultural relativism was perhaps one of the purest expressions of Enlightenment assumptions that stressed racial equality and the universality of moral sense among peoples. His writing seemed like he admired the simple life that the Native Americans lived.

George Washington’s presidency established much of the basis for the federal Native American policies we have today. Like others who were not Native Americans of this era, he viewed them as a vanishing people, or at least a people who at some time in the near future would cease to exist in the United States. Native Americans were to either die out, migrate, or become totally assimilated. Near the beginning of his first term as President, George Washington declared that a just Indian policy was one of his highest priorities, explaining that,

 "The Government of the United States are determined that their Administration of Indian Affairs shall be directed entirely by the great principles of Justice and humanity.“

Congress proceeded to approve a treaty with seven northern tribes (the Shawnee, Miami, Ottawa, Chippewa, Iroquois, Sauk, and Fox). This agreement, however, lacked meaningful protection of tribal land. Members of the northern tribes believed it was necessary to use force to prevent further incursions. Washington’s sent American military response. In 1790 and 1791, Washington dispatched armies to confront native forces, and in both instances the Americans were defeated. Washington sought to provide safe havens for native tribes while also assimilating them into American society. 

Washington believed that if they failed to at least make an effort to secure Native American land, their chances of convincing Native Americans to transform their hunting culture to one of farming and herding would be undermined. As the two reluctantly came to recognize, however, it was the settlers pouring into the western frontier that controlled the national agenda regarding Native Americans and their land. 

During John Adams’s presidency, in his first annual message to Congress, Adams referred to relationships with the Indians as, “this unpleasant state of things on our western frontier.” Foreign agents, he said, were trying to “alienate the affections of the Indian nations and to excite them to actual hostilities against the United States.”

The same year, the newly formed Tennessee legislature informed Adams that the Cherokee Indians were occupying their territories as “tenants at will,” or at the forbearance of whites. In response, Adams sent a letter to “his beloved chiefs, warriors and children of the Cherokee Nation,” explaining that squatters had gone beyond the boundary established in a 1791 treaty and had protested when the federal government tried to remove them.

In the letter, Adams asked the Cherokee to acknowledge the “sincere friendship of the United States,” but said his “stronger obligations” were to “hear the complaints, and relieve, as far as in my power, the distresses of my white children, citizens of the United States.” The result was the 1798 Treaty of Tellico, in which the Cherokee ceded more of their homelands in eastern Tennessee.

The treaty was the last of four enacted during Adams’ four years in office, from 1797 to 1801. He also oversaw treaties with the Mohawk, Seneca and Oneida, who relinquished all their lands in the state of New York. His first encounter with Native Americans occurred when he was a boy and leaders of the Punkapaug and Neponset tribes called on his father. In a letter penned to a friend, Adams called Natives “blood hounds” who, let loose, could scalp men and butcher women and children. Much like the other founding fathers, Adams held conflicted beliefs about Natives and their role in the nation’s future.

In his inauguration speech, Adams pledged himself to a spirit of “equity and humanity” toward the Indians. He promised to “meliorate their condition by inclining them to be more friendly to us, and our citizens to be more friendly to them.” But Adams also ignored existing treaties and established the Indiana Territory in 1800.

Thomas Jefferson viewed American Indians or Native Americans as subjects of intellectual curiosity or saw them in political terms as enemies in war or partners in peace. Jefferson’s long public career during a time period allowed him to shape the relations between the United States and the various Native American nations.

“I beleive the Indian then to be in body and mind equal to the whiteman,“ 

Only their environment needed to be changed to make them fully American in Jefferson’s mind. Even though many American Indians lived in villages and many engaged in agriculture, hunting was often still necessary for subsistence. Jefferson believed that if American Indians were made to adopt European-style agriculture and live in European-style towns and villages, then they would quickly "progress” from “savagery” to “civilization” and eventually be equal, in his mind, to white men.

Thomas Jefferson believed Native American peoples to be a noble race. Nevertheless, Jefferson developed plans for Indian removal to lands West of the Mississippi. Before and during his presidency, Jefferson discussed the need for respect, brotherhood, and trade with the Native Americans. Yet beginning in 1803, Jefferson’s private letters show increasing support for a policy of removal.

Jefferson was fascinated with the Indian culture and language. His home at Monticello was filled with Indian artifacts obtained from the Lewis and Clark expedition. He had compiled a dictionary and assorted grammars of the Indian language. Jefferson refuted these notions in his book, Notes on the State of Virginia, where he defended American Indian and their culture.  Andrew Jackson is often credited with initiating Indian Removal. But Jackson was merely legalizing and implementing a plan laid out by Jefferson in a series of letters that began in 1803, although Jefferson did not implement the plan during his own presidency. Jefferson advocated for the militarization of the Western border, along the Mississippi River. He felt that the best way to accomplish this was to flood the area with a large population of white settlements.

In his first Inaugural Address upon assuming office, James Madison stated that the federal government’s duty was to convert the American Indians by the, “participation of the improvements of which the human mind and manners are susceptible in a civilized state.” Like most American leaders at the time, Madison had a paternalistic and discriminatory attitude toward American Natives. He encouraged American Native men to give up hunting and become farmers and supported the conversion of American Natives to a European way of life. 

Yet for a president who “pushed hard” for expansion, Madison rarely spoke about Indians. Privately, however, Madison was skeptical of the beliefs behind federal Indian policy, which at that time focused on civilization, or transitioning Indians from their “savage” state to agricultural societies. Madison believed that Indians would resist civilization.

The Hamilton-Oneida Academy in Clinton, New York was created with the idea of educating Indian and white children side by side to build cultural understanding. The charter for the academy was granted in 1793. Hamilton was incorporated as a trustee and a namesake of the school soon after. Hamilton had an equally enlightened opinion of Indians even after some of them, in the pay of the British, threatened to attack the home of his father-in-law, Philip Schuyler, in Albany in 1781 while Hamilton’s pregnant wife was living there. The Native Americans and their fellow British raiders were scared off when one of the Schuyler women bluffed that a group of rebel soldiers was on its way (by the way- it was Margarita “Peggy”). 

In spite of their presence in the raiding party, Philip Schuyler negotiated with neighboring tribes to keep them neutral during the war. After the war, when speculators wanted to push Indians out of western New York, Hamilton warned that only friendly relations with the natives would guarantee peace. He also became a trustee of what was later named Hamilton College, a school that accepted Indian students as well as whites.

James Monroe during his presidency recommended that Indians who wanted to own land as individuals should be allowed to do so and should be given a fee simple title to their land. This would, of course, break up the communal land holdings of the tribes and allow lands to be acquired and developed by non-Indians.

In 1824, President James Monroe presented Congress with a plan for “civilizing” Indians by sending them voluntarily west of the Mississippi River.

5

V. O. Hammon Publishing Co. booklet, “Souvenir of Minneapolis in Colors”, 1910s. 

 - Bird’s Eye View
- Minnehaha Falls
- Calhoun Boulevard
- St. Anthony Falls
- Hotel Radisson
- Scene at Lake Minnetonka
- St. Marks Episcopal Church
- Powers Mercantile Co.
- Minneapolis Court House and City Hall
- Steel Arch Bridge and Union Depot
- Old Block House, Fort Snelling
- Nicollet Avenue West From Sixth Street
- Nicollet Avenue at Night
- Minkhada Golf Club
- Stevens House
- New Roman Catholic Pro-Cathedral
- Minnesota State Soldier’s Home
- Hotel Nicollet
- Metropolitan Life Building
- Park Bridge No. 1
- Minnehaha Falls
- Minnesota State Capitol Building
- Donaldson’s Glass Block
- The Anchorage, Lake Calhoun
- Milling District By Moonlight in Winter
- Hotel Dyckman
- Typical Building in Wholesale District
- Stone Arch Bridge
- Milling District
- West High School
- Nicollet Avenue East From Sixth Street
- View Along Harriet Boulevard
- Pier at Shady Island, Lake Minnetonka
- Shubert Theatre
- Masonic Temple
- Racetrack at Minnesota State Fair Grounds
- Public Library
- Auditorium Building
- Post Office Building
- General View of the University of Minnesota
- Bridal Veil Falls
- West Hotel
- Security Bank Building
- Bridge Over the Mississippi River at Fort Snelling
- Folwell Hall and Physical Laboratory
- Plymouth Building
- Seventh Street North from Nicollet Avenue
- Loring Park Showing Hotel Plaza
- New Bridge Over Mississippi River at Fort Snelling
- Minnehaha Falls in Winter

anonymous asked:

My first high school, I later moved, was so strict that even seeing your hat in your bag meant it was confiscated and there was a huge wall in each room with the rules on it. It was also the most diverse school west of the Mississippi. Gangs are a thing so they were v strict on what you could wear. (Unfortunately their colors were red and blue...) Anyway, at lunch once a girl had her purple sparkly ear muffs taken away for gang relation. Beware the Purple Ear Muff Bandidos everyone—they scary af

once a kid at my school had his earring ripped off because it had gang ‘implications’. It was a turtle.

2

#359-Absol, The Disaster Pokemon


Absol is a Pokemon that is mostly only find deep in the mountains where it hides away. However, Absol appears just before major natural disasters. Without natural disasters, it can be found deep in the northern Rockies and the Appalachians. in California they can be caught just before an earthquake. In Oklahoma and Kansas they can be seen in April and May during heavy tornadic storms. On the East coast they can be found in areas where a hurricane is about to hit. Research is still being done to identify whether or not they appear before avlanches.

anonymous asked:

Hi I was just wondering where in CO you're moving to????? I live here and I was wondering because I could let you know some cool stuff to do! Like the best places to eat and stuff, depending of course where youre living. Also what are you moving out here for?

Hello! I’m moving w/ my friend Kyle to a town about a half hour west of Denver. I’m very excited!! He’s been asking me to move out there for awhile, and the stars finally seemed to align.

tbh, there just seems to be more opportunity for employment in CO when compared to my current state (CT) and ALSO to be That Guy my gf @thiccgrayson lives out there so it’s gonna be amazing to see her In Person.

but, pls! any info you wanna share hmu! same for all of y’all. i’ve never been west of the mississippi before so this is all very new and exciting and kinda terrifying, lol.

teddy-the-yeti  asked:

Hello there~ I was wondering if thou could recommend me any long sterek fics? The longer the better~~ :3

Over 50 Sterek recs over 50k

  • Play It Again by metisket (T, 63k) In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself. “Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”
  • What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm (E, 119k) There’s something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can’t quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There’s something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.
  • Stand Fast In Your Enchantments by DevilDoll (E, 77k) ”Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf.” An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.
  • Cornerstone by Vendelin (E, 83k) Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else. [gay!Stiles]
  • Not As Described by febricant (M, 81k) Stiles may have made a huge mistake.
  • Stilinski & Associates by ebjameston (T, 148k) “You want me to arrange a political marriage for your son?” Stiles repeats dumbly. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done this,” Talia Hale says, dark eyes twinkling over her impeccable blue pantsuit. “Senator Harvey and Elise’s match worked out perfectly, and they’re actually quite in love, from what I hear.” “George Harvey was a little-known senatorial candidate from Kansas at the time, Madam President,” Stiles says slowly. “Your son – you, Mr. Hale,” he directs toward the man pacing tiny circles behind the president’s chair, “are the nation’s most eligible bachelor. Literally. I saw it on the cover of People.” [closeted and gay!Derek, bi!Stiles]
  • No Homo by RemainNameless (E, 84k) Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this: 3 FourLokos + 1 peer-pressuring cat - 1 best bro to end all best bros= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”. Derek is the fool who replies.
  • There’s Monsters At Home by calrissian18 (E, 84k) “How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many. The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”Derek despised him.
  • Kindred Spirits by Stoney (E, 104k) Anne of Green Gables/Teen Wolf AU. Stiles is the adopted son of the Sheriff, brought to Beacon Hills to hopefully stay for good. A family, a best friend, school, Jackson as Josie Pye (because who else could he be?) and the mystery of a dark haired, green-eyed boy which leads Stiles to discovering a secret within himself.

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8

Dubuque, Iowa
Population: 58,253

“Dubuque is Iowa’s oldest city and is among the oldest settlements west of the Mississippi River. The first permanent settler to the area was French-Canadian fur trader Julien Dubuque. When he arrived in 1785, the Mesquakie (Fox) Indians occupied the region which included an abundant amount of lead mines. Knowing lead’s importance to Europeans, the Mesquakie kept the locations of the mines a secret. But Julien Dubuque developed close relationships with the Mesquakie while trading fur and the Mesquakie informed him of the region’s wealth of lead deposits. Working together to mine the lead with the Mesquakie, Julien Dubuque was eventually given control of the mines, which he named the Mines of Spain ,and successfully operated until his death in 1810. On June 1, 1833, the land Julien Dubuque had worked so hard to develop was opened up for settlement by the United States Government under the Black Hawk Purchase Treaty and came to be known as the city of Dubuque when it was chartered in 1837.”