this is not boston you don't know boston

  • Alec: Magnus, my mom is here to see you.
  • Magnus: Oh, please stay, Alexander. I need a witness in case her head starts spinning around or if she turns into a she-wolf.
  • Maryse: Hello, Magnus. I need you to create a portal to Boston, we have an important business there.
  • Magnus: Boston? But it's so close to Salem. You do know what they do to witches up there, don't you, Maryse?
  • Alec: This is amazing.

anonymous asked:

R has a Wolverine-style healing factor, and is really old. (R looks young, obviously.) One day, R is proofreading an article for Kara and rejects part of it. "The shooting downtown was nothing like the Boston Massacre!" "And you would know?" "Yes, I would." "Right, right." "Kara, I was there." "You were there?" "Yes." "At the Boston Massacre?" "Yes." "How?" "I can't die, remember?" "How old are you?" *scoffs* "I don't know." "You don't know?" "Kara, I stopped counting back in 1803."

Originally posted by biwarlockhermione

“See, no, you can’t use this comparison,” you scoffed and spun around in the swivel chair at your desk as you clicked your pen.  “The shooting downtown was nothing like the Boston Massacre.”

“And you would know?” Kara challenged.

“Yes, I would know.”

“Right, right.”

The Kryptonian rolled her eyes and snatched her article from your hands.

“Kara, I was there,” you whispered, not wanting anyone else in the office to know about you…enhanced abilities.

“You were there?”


“At the Boston Massacre?”


“B-but, that doesn’t make sense!  I know you’re…old but-”

“I can’t die, Kara.  Not from old age or anything else.”

“How old are you?” Kara demanded in astonishment.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“Kara, I stopped counting back in 1803.”

anonymous asked:

Are you a supporter of PETA?

So I appreciate some of the undercover stuff that they do, especially in agriculture, and they’re spay/neuter efforts and their general attempt to get people to be more considerate towards animal welfare in industry, policy, and the home. And I appreciate that they’re outspoken, and PETA was more or less the first animal rights organization. I could get behind a lot of the stuff they promote, and for some of the things that I don’t agree with, I can understand where they’re coming from.

But no. I don’t support them. There are several reasons why and you probably know some of the more controversial stuff that they do. But honestly right now, I want to talk about how I’m fed up with their constant fighting against the people who want to save shelter animals. This is the No-Kill movement, which could more accurately be called, no-kill-unless-necessary movement, or at least a try-to-move-towards-killing-less movement. Why do they spend money and send lawyers to fight against people and policies designed to save shelter animals? Why don’t they use that money TO SAVE ANIMALS? Especially when there are 5.66 empty homes for pets PER PET that is killed at a shelter in the US? Here are some examples of things that PETA does:

-PETA and HSUS fought against several states’ Companion Animal Protection Acts, which would make it illegal to kill pets for retribution against a person who cares about that animal, or for convenience, when there is space and resources for them at a shelter or a rescue willing to take them. A similar act that was passed in California saves 46,000 companion animals per year, saving $1.8 million in euthanasia drugs for taxpayers, and Delaware saves 80% of shelter animals now.

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tammyteresa64-deactivated201610  asked:

Ok :) two with separate or together. "I ain't scared of no ghosts" and "I am the one hiding under your bed" :) thanks xo

(thanks to repmet for the gif!)

“…And then the Ghost of the 2nd Earl JUMPED OUT OF THE CLOSET!”

Marigold gave a screech and buried her little face against her cousin’s shoulder.  Sybbie gave an annoyed look to her other cousin as she attempted to soothe poor Marigold.  “It’s alright, George is just telling stories.”

“It’s true!” George insisted.  “The 2nd Earl haunts Downton!” he grinned wickedly and made a menacing motion with his fingers.  “And likes to scare little girls—!”

“Well he’s not scaring me!” Sybbie insisted.  “I ain’t scared of no ghosts!”

George rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say more, but the nursery door opened then, causing all three children to gasp, before sighing with relief at the sight of their mothers.

“Why are you still awake?” Mary asked, her question pointedly at her son.

“It’s All Hallow’s Eve, Mama!” George explained.  “Sybbie told us—”

“Another ‘Irish tradition’?” Mary turned to her baby sister who was kissing her daughter’s cheek.

“It’s not as if it’s unique to just Ireland,” Sybil insisted.  “Why, the celebration descends from the ancient Celts, so it more than likely began in Britain, up in Scotland—”

“Save me the history lesson,” Mary groaned, kissing her son on the brow and then urging him to get under his blankets and go to sleep.  

As for Marigold, she whimpered a bit and clung to Edith, who seemed reluctant to leave her.  “I’ll keep her safe, Auntie Edith!” Sybbie promised, noticing her cousin’s distress.  Sybil smiled proudly at her daughter, and Edith looked grateful.

“Come along!” Mary urged.  “Our husbands are probably wondering what’s keeping us.”

Another shadow illuminated the doorway just then, causing the three children and their mothers to gasp, and then groan as Sybbie squealed, “Daddy!”

“What are you doing up here?” Mary asked.  “I thought the three of you would be waiting downstairs—”

“Matthew and Bertie are,” Tom explained, winking at Edith who was blushing still at the reminder that she was now a married woman as well.  “But I had to sneak a kiss myself, otherwise I’d be jealous of Sybil the whole night!”

Both Sybil and Sybbie giggled and Sybbie held out her arms for her father, who stepped in and did just that, smothering sloppy Branson kisses on her cheeks, before tucking her into bed.  He then turned and gave a rather sloppy kiss to his wife, earning groans of disgust from the children, though Sybbie was used to it.

“Is the party up here now?” came another voice from the door.  

“It might as well be,” Mary groaned, before smiling at her husband and new brother-in-law who were now entering the nursery.

Both men went to their respective children, giving each a kiss on the brow before murmuring “goodnight”, and Marigold seemed to brighten considerably after this (she was very fond of Bertie).  

“George is telling them ghost stories,” Sybil whispered to Matthew.

“Ah, I see,” Matthew gave his son a stern look.  “I hope you’re not trying to frighten your cousins and give them nightmares…”

“No, Papa, it’s just All Hallow’s Eve, and Sybbie said—”

“So this is your fault?” Tom asked his daughter, before giving her a little wink to show he wasn’t serious.

“George says the ghost of the 2nd Earl haunts Downton.”


“George…” Mary groaned before turning to the rest.  “Children, there are no such things as ghosts.”

“But there such thing as a dragon, which is what your grandmother will become if we’re late,” Bertie observed to his wife.

“True,” Mary confirmed, agreeing with him.  “Alright, all of you get some sleep—good night!”

The children murmured their goodnights once again and watched as their parents exited the nursery.  However, before the Bransons left, Tom did whisper into his daughter’s ear, the special blessing her Irish grandmother had taught her to scare away anything that tried to frighten her.  With nothing but the soft, orange glow of the fire burning in the fireplace, the children were left alone.

Quiet filled the nursery then…though George swore he heard something making a “thumping” sound.  He sat up in bed and looked over at his cousins.  “Do you hear…?”

Marigold gave a little squeal and leapt out of bed, before flying into Sybbie’s.  “It’s the ghost of the 2nd Earl!” she screeched.

“Don’t be silly,” Sybbie assured her, before turning to George.  They heard the sound again, and George swallowed the lump in his throat—it was coming from UNDERNEATH HIS BED!

Sybbie glared at the bed, ignoring the petrified expression on her cousin’s face, and shouted the blessing her father had whispered to her in the language of their homeland, and the thumping suddenly came to a stop.

They all waited, holding their breath…


“It’s gone…” George whispered.

“Can I stay with you?” Marigold whimpered, looking up at Sybbie with large, imploring eyes.  Sybbie just smiled and kissed her cousin’s forehead, before pulling the blankets up around them.

“Maybe I should join you?” George offered, trying to sound braver than he felt.  “Just to protect you girls.”

Sybbie rolled her eyes, wondering what her mother would make of that if she heard George, but knew all too well that it was his back-handed way of admitting he was scared.  “Fine,” she sighed, scooting over and making room.  Soon, all three cousins were huddled together in Sybbie’s bed, the blankets pulled up to their chins, and after a moment, they were all soon asleep.

A few hours later, when the party had ended, Robert (or “Donk” as he was now known to all his grandchildren) decided to peek in and see them.  Sybil accompanied him, and when they reached the nursery, she gave a groan and a sigh at the sight of them together in bed.  “Just as I had feared, I think the ghost stories got to them.”

Robert frowned.  “Why are they all in Sybbie’s bed?”

Sybil smiled proudly.  “Well she is the oldest, so perhaps she’s also deemed the bravest?”  She shut the door then, and proceeded to tell her father about the so-called “ghost of the 2nd Earl”, the story which George had been telling to spook his cousins.

Robert frowned.  “There’s no ‘ghost of the 2nd Earl’.”

“Exactly, Papa.”

“If anything haunts that nursery, it would be Pharaoh!”

Sybil frowned.  “What?”

“Don’t you remember?  Pharaoh was always trying to get into that nursery when you and your sisters were children.  He especially liked to get under Mary’s bed and she would complain about the loud sounds his tail made when thumping against the floorboards.”

“I honestly don’t remember, but maybe I was too young?”

“That might be…” he recalled.  “Yes, you were barely a year old, when Edith and Mary got into a terrible fight—” Sybil rolled her eyes.  “—because Mary tried to spook Edith by telling her there was a monster in the room that lived under her bed, but then Pharaoh got under Mary’s and frightened the both of them—”

“Perhaps Pharaoh’s ghost remains?” Sybil offered.  “Thumping his tail under the bed of Mary’s son?”

Robert chuckled at that, though it was clear he didn’t believe it.  Sybil, however, wasn’t entirely convinced.  After living among the Irish, both in Dublin and now in Boston, she wasn’t as skeptical to tales of the supernatural as she might have been before marriage.  Though of all the ghosts that were out there, the ghost of a friendly Labrador hiding under one’s bed was rather sweet.

If I was a US History Teacher.....
  • Me: Okay class now why is tomorrow's date so important?
  • Student: *raises hand* Because its the anniversary of the Boston Tea Party thing, where the colonists dumped the tea into the harbor and made the British really mad.
  • Me: That is correct but who are we forgetting in that famous moment of US History?
  • Class: *silence*
  • Me: nobody?
  • Class: *more silence*
  • Me: man you guys are worse than Ubis-
  • Student: we're forgetting Conno-
  • Prick Student: *who doesn't raise his hand* Ya know, another history teacher told me that this "Connor" doesn't really exist and that your just a crazy old loon.
  • Me: That's exactly what the Templars want you to think child.
  • Class: *more silence*
  • Me: ANYWAYS don't forget your homework is to go on Youtube and watch Sequence 6 of AC3 for the Boston Tea Party. There will be a pop quiz on it tomorrow. :)))

A few days after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. the mutants were informed that HYDRA was now hunting mutants along with former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. It was decided that the best idea was to evacuate the school and let the students do whatever they found best, since they would be a way too easy target staying at the school.

Together with some of the other students Claire had managed to survive for about a week, but now it was exhausting being on the run. They had managed to stay out of HYDRA’s way, but had already nearly been captured twice. After a couple of more days one of the others suggested that maybe they should split up or at least get out of New York City since it was the center of HYDRA. The others had agreed.

It was getting dark outside and Claire was getting tired. She had decided to take a train back to Boston, back to her home. She looked at her watch, she could take a nap before reaching Boston, but she knew it could be dangerous. She was exhausted and the chances of not waking when she reached Boston were about as high as the chances that she would survive all alone with HYDRA chasing her. The train stopped at a station and Claire looked at the new passengers trying to see if there were HYDRA people among them.

As a bruins fan, i love the habs

NOW DON’T GET TOO CRAZY, i don’t love them in the sense that i would ever touch a jersey of theirs. I don’t love them in the way that would stop me from chirping habs fans. I don’t love them enought o drop my new england stubbornness and ever root for them against anyone. And if a player i liked went to their team, well i wouldn’t like that player much anymore.

but as a bruins fan, i do love the habs.

I love the habs because there’s something extremely special about the bruins/habs rivalry that is unmatched by other teams. These two teams have such a past and a history together that you could completely change the rosters TOMORROW and still have one of the best rivalries in all of sports.

I love the habs because when i turn on that TV knowing the bruins will be playing the habs that night I feel an extra something in side, something more than excitement. I love the habs because when we win against them I feel like i’m top of a fucking mountain but when we lose to them (even if it was deserved) i get to bitch and moan about it and no one expects anything different. 

I love the habs, because as a bruins fan i couldn’t imagine hockey without them. I love the habs because they give hockey that extra something, that extra kick, that keeps me coming back for more.

anonymous asked:

We have so many beautiful RDers coming to Boston! And while Boston should be a pretty friendly place, I know some folks may feel nervous about waving their rainbows in a big crowd. On the slim chance someone harasses you at Gillette or you see someone else being harassed, please text the word: CONDUCT to 78247 followed by the details of what's going on, and someone will come deal with it. This is anonymous report service, so don't be afraid to use it!

Thank you so much for the info!

Although we hope everyone will be safe, it is always important to know what to do if you do get harassed or need assistance.

You can see our post on staying safe at the shows here.

anonymous asked:

You should come to Boston , please? I'd like to meet you if you don't mind

I love Boston accents so it’s very likely I’ll be visiting. I can wait for you outside of your school if you like and we can hang out. Let me know.