boston funeral

anonymous asked:

How about Brianna is Brian after all - look like Jamie, behave like Jamie, proud of his mother, respects her … like his father - everything Frank´s not + at the end Brian had some suspicion, he is not Frank´s, of course. F didn´t die and Claire is forced by circumstances to reveal the truth about Jamie. How would those two men react? (Please be mad at Frank for the manipulation and psychical terror against Claire. I would really love to read Jamie (or his son) to smash Frank´s face for his behav

Note from Mod WTT

This is Part 1 of 4!

“Love, you need to calm down.” My mother cajoled in a failing attempt to abate my sudden fury.

“No, Mum, this is one time when I cannot calm down. All this time–” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to not let my anger out on her. “Why?”

“Why did I wait this long to tell you, or why did I not fight Frank on his request?”

“Both. I need to understand why you didn’t even try to go back. Why you left in the first place. Christ, Mum! Does my father have any idea about me? Did you keep me a secret from him before you left him? Am I just as much of a secret as he was to me?”

She crossed the room, grabbing a glass of Scotch before making her way to the couch and gesturing for me to take a seat as well. I refused and began pacing the room.

“He knew about you before even I did,” Mum said looking down into her glass.

“How–?” I started but was stopped with a gesture.

“If you want me to tell you this, you will ask questions later, understood?”

I nodded in agreement.

“Jamie kept track of things most men wouldn’t spare a single thought for, he was always thinking and observing those around him. In part, I think that’s what made him such a good hunter and leader. He knew what was coming and could think quick on his feet to find a solution.” She took a large swallow from the Scotch, swirling the last finger of liquid around nervously.

“You have to understand, that what I’m telling you didn’t take place in the world or country you know. I explained to you earlier that your father is from another time–I had gone back in time–and met him. This world held so many more dangers for everyone: famine, starvation, war, death, even the common cold would kill an entire family given the chance. Nothing was safe in Scotland, especially during the uprising.

Jamie and I… we had been trying to convince Charles Stuart to give up the foolish notion of an uprising, and in the process became the biggest outlaws to the English Crown. When the battle of Culloden was upon us, Jamie knew he was going to die, either by the sword and canon or at the end of an executioner’s noose. I swore to him that I would follow and that he was my home. I didn’t want to leave him or this life I had grown to love more dearly than anything in the world.”

Her eyes stared out unblinkingly, seeing a place, a time that only she could see. As she stared, the middle and ring fingers of her right hand rubbed back and forth over the odd ‘J’ shaped scar in her palm.

“When he told me that you were there, this miracle I hadn’t dared to dream of being real, he wanted to keep us safe. So I foolishly listened and went back.” Her eyes locked with mine, as her hand covered and squeezed mine. “I don’t regret a second of this life that I’ve lived because I’ve had you.”

“But you let… you let Frank pretend to raise me.”

“No, he loved you!”

“NO! He loved the idea of me. I always wondered how I looked the way I did, I chalked it up to latent genetics on yours or fa–Frank’s side. But that didn’t explain the sneers he’d give when he thought I wasn’t looking or the scoffing I heard when he thought I was asleep. Now that you’re telling me I have another father, one that I apparently am the spitting image of,” I protested pulling my hand free and gesturing to myself. “It all makes sense. Did you know that I thought I had a recurring nightmare for years, Mum?”

She shook her head, her hand reaching back out for me. I shook her off and stood up abruptly. “I thought this was a nightmare, a figment of my childish mind because I was the one who didn’t look like they belonged. It always was the same, Frank saying, ‘I’m trying but I can’t love you, you’re too much like him. Your mother can’t expect me to love something I can’t create.’ Then walking away. Now I understand I was hearing him talk to me while I was just on the edges of sleep, but had my eyes closed. This man whom you spent seventeen years beside hated me because I reminded him of someone. Someone he held with so much contempt he couldn’t see beyond the father for the sake of an innocent child.”


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I went to the Boston Aquarium this past weekend and had the greatest time! The fish were wonderful, but the best part was when an employee walked up to me and said “you look interesting… would you like a free behind-the-scenes tour?” and I nearly died of excitement. I got to see all the secret fish as well as a baby anaconda! Which means it was still like a ten pound snake.

The lesson to be learned here is that good things come to those who dress like they’re going to a sexy funeral

gaybygirl  asked:

literally my friend is getting told to kill herself the 4chan thing isn't fake she is getting people messaging her telling her to fuckimg kill herself

And guess what?  It’s other tumblr users doing it.

The only point where 4chan got involved was to mess with and expose the people from tumblr lying about being 4chan anons.  Not only would channers NOT use Omegle, but a good portion of them moved to 8chan a long time ago, because the new mods at 4chan are ban-happy moral crusaders.

You can stop pretending as if this is the first time that people on tumblr have lied about something to further their own agenda , or deliberately set out to start shit with 4chan.  Hell, it’s also not the first time that someone has tried to use 4chan as a scapegoat for their own actions, such as the hoax regarding alleged nude photos of Emma Watson (here’s another source for good measure, but just Google “Rantic marketing 4chan”, and you’ll find quite a few others), or the “feminists” that circulated child pornography onto 8chan, just so they could claim that it was the site users behind it.

In fact, 4chan has actually accomplished quite a bit for the betterment of others, while people on this site sit on the computer, and whine about meaningless trivialities that don’t mean squat to anyone with a goddamn brain.


Meanwhile, what has tumblr done?:

So, what have you, or any of the so-called “activists” on tumblr, done for anyone else lately?

Yeah.  That’s what I thought.  A whole lotta jack and shit.

The only reason 4chan keeps becoming targeted is because whiny little teenage bags of snot can’t handle the fact that the people they hate the most (mainly for calling them out on their bullshit) accomplish more genuine good for others than they likely ever will.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what either side of this argument says about the other.  You are not a “good person” just because you sit around screaming at the top of your lungs trying to convince people that you are.  When it comes to 4chan, they let their actions speak for themselves.  They show genuine altruism while under a veil of anonymity.  They don’t go out of their way to be known or recognized individually for their contributions.  That alone speaks volumes about how tumblr “activists” are merely wearing positive labels like a fashion trend, and not actually conducting themselves in any manner to attempt to live up to those labels.  They are consumed with a rabid desire for others to see them as pious martyrs, regardless of whether or not they’re deserving of such impressions.  Unfortunately for them, true goodness is determined by ACTIONS.

In the final tally, regardless of the other incidents 4chan has taken part in, tumblr still has them beat by a long shot when it comes to acting like horrifyingly disgusting human beings.  Even when they’re pulling juvenile bullshit, at least 4chan doesn’t act self righteous about it.

anonymous asked:

Hi can u do percabeth #4 for the mini fic thingy

This is set during Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Sword of Summer, immediately after Annabeth discovered Magnus at the funeral home.

(no longer taking requests for this particular challenge, sorry!)

things you said over the phone

“What do you mean you aren’t coming back to New York yet?” Percy’s voice drifted down the line, confused and concerned.

Annabeth twirled a loose curl around her finger and sighed. “I can’t leave Boston, Percy. Not yet. Magnus needs me -”

She expected him to protest, to ask her how she could blow off school, how she could ignore him, but Percy surprised her by instead asking, “Is your dad staying with you?”

She shifted, resting one of her feet against the cold cinder block interior wall of the church she was leaning against. “No, he’s going back to California tonight, after the funeral. Magnus said I can’t tell him he’s still alive… Not yet, anyway.”

“Okay, so your dad is going to leave you alone in Boston after the funeral you’re having for your cousin who isn’t actually dead.”


“The cousin who you saw standing over his own dead body.”

“Yes, Percy.”

“Annabeth, come on. That’s weird, even by our standards, you have to admit.” Percy sounded agitated on the other end of the line. She pictured him pacing up and down his small kitchen.

“Could be a fake body,” she said, chewing on her thumbnail.

“You don’t think it is,” he said, easily interpreting her tone.

“No, I don’t think so. Which is just all the more reason for me to stick around! He’s definitely a demigod, he never knew his dad and he said that Randolph had told him some stuff about our family history -”

“Does Randolph know you’re a demigod?”

“No… I don’t think he does, anyway. Hard to say for sure when I haven’t seen the guy in ten years, and Dad’s too wound up by Magnus’s ‘death’ to talk about anything like that.”

Percy huffed, probably running a hand through his hair. “Annabeth, I don’t like this. I’m going to come stay with you.”

She straightened, glaring at the wall opposite her. “You will not. I’m more than capable of looking after myself, Percy, and Sally needs you there -”

“I know you can take care of yourself, Annabeth, but we always work better as a team. Mom’ll be okay with Paul for a few days -”

And here came the part Annabeth had been dreading. “But that’s the thing, Percy, I don’t know if this will be over in a few days. I don’t know how long I’m going to have to wait for Magnus.”

There was some muffled cursing on the other end of the line, as though Percy had pulled the phone away from his mouth to swear. When he next spoke into the receiver his voice was tight and constrained. “Annabeth, you can’t just hang out alone in Boston for an indeterminate amount of time waiting to figure out what’s going on with your cousin. That’s not a plan.”

“Since when have you ever needed a plan?” she countered, somewhat snidely.

“You’re not me,” he said, close to a snap. He caught himself and sighed, and all the fight left Annabeth at the sound. “This isn’t how you work, Annabeth. You’ll go mad waiting to hear from him, and without any more information there’s nothing you can do in the meantime. And if something does go wrong, if monsters track you down, you’re on your own. Even if you do meet up with Magnus and he is a demigod, he obviously isn’t trained, so he won’t be much good in a fight.”

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. A part of her desperately wanted to tell him to get on the next train to Boston, to come stay with her, that they could work it out together. But instead she said, “Okay. What if we compromise?”

“Compromise?” Percy asked warily.

“Just give me a few days to see if I can find out anymore information, or to hear back from Magnus, and if I don’t find anything you can either come here or I’ll come home.”

He paused, considering her offer. “Just a few days.”


“And you’ll call and Iris Message whenever you can?”

“At least twice a day, morning and night.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Percy sighed, clearly not completely happy. “Deal.”

Down the hall, one of the doors swung open, letting in a blast of cold air and a few arrivals for the funeral. Annabeth’s dad was at the front of the group, looking exhausted and sad. He met her gaze, questioning, and she waved a hand to let him know she was fine.

“I have to go, the funeral’s about to start, but I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Percy said, and she smiled instinctively. “Be safe. And remember, just a few days.”

“That’s the deal. Be safe, give Sally a hug from me.” Annabeth hung up and tucked the phone back into her jacket pocket, making her way over to where her dad waited.

He smiled sadly down at her, and Annabeth’s stomach twisted with guilt. She really hoped Magnus wouldn’t need a few days to get back to her.

Ghost Girl

Read it on AO3

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ship(s): Alex/Annabeth

The young girl giggled, tossing some leaves at her friend. “If I have to have leaves in my hair, so do you.”

The boy stared at the leaves, which fell to the ground beside him. “You missed.”

Annabeth pouted, grabbing the leaves again. “That’s no fair.”

He shrugged a bit, blowing the leaves from her hand at her. “It’s not my fault.”

She sighed, turning her attention back to the flower crown she’d been making, a weird combination of wilting flowers and leaves. “Are you gonna come over again tomorrow?”

“I have nowhere else to be.”

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sorcererinslytherin  asked:

your Jeremy-funeral post led me thinking to (decidedly non-angst) a situation where for some reason part of the FAHC gang (or all of them) have to suddenly deal with the intrusion of one of their families. Like Michael's mom or Jeremy's family or whatever. Do they hide the fact that they are international criminals? do they embrace it? lol for some reason that concept popped into my head when you said they go back to boston for lil j's funeral (after i cried)

I’m laughing so much at this idea. Like the crew has no idea how to act around civilians, let alone family that are civilians.

I’m just imagining like Michael’s mom drops by. And the crew has NO idea what to do. Like here’s this sweat old lady around them and everyone is scrambling to hide who they really are. Shoving guns into cupboards as she enters the room and trying to act normal. Talking business in hushed tones and in weird code (which really only confuses everyone). And basically everyone just makes a huge deal about hiding everything from her.

But she already knows. Because Michael tells her everything and she’s like surprisingly supportive? It almost scares the crew when they enter a room with them together and Michael’s telling her about a heist they did, not sparing any detail. And his mom just smiles and nods along, actually excited to hear the story and not blinking an eye when he talks about how many cops he killed.

The crew just looks at them and looks at each other wondering who the fuck was this woman and how the fuck was she so supportive of this???


On the drive to Fairview Cemetery in the Boston neighborhood of Hyde Park, six seniors from Roxbury Latin boys’ school sit in silent reflection. Mike Pojman, the school’s assistant headmaster and senior adviser, says the trip is a massive contrast to the rest of their school day, and to their lives as a whole right now.

Today the teens have volunteered to be pallbearers for a man who died alone in September, and for whom no next of kin was found. He’s being buried in a grave with no tombstone, in a city cemetery.

“To reflect on the fact that there are people, like this gentleman, who probably knew hundreds or thousands of people through his life, and at the end of it there’s nobody there — I think that gets to all of them,” Pojman says. “Some have said, ‘I just gotta make sure that never happens to me.’”

'Today We Are His Family’: Teen Volunteers Mourn Those Who Died Alone

Photos: Kayana Szymczak for NPR