special house

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Happy Halloween, everyone! Be safe (VERY IMPORTANT) and have fun~ <3

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I’m not the only one who remembers Playhouse Disney right? Charlie and Lola, JoJo’s Circus, Rolie Polie Olie, Handy Manny, imagination Movers, The Wiggles, Jungle Junction, Special Agent Oso, Little Einsteins, Higglytown Heroes, Bear In The Big Blue House, etc. Like I’m in my feeling right now you guys 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Especially over Charlie and Lola, I use to watch that show all the time when I was younger trying to copy their accents, while drinking pink milk 😂😭

Each house as: a med speciality
  • Gryffindor: Heart surgery – Adrenaline, strong stomach, self-confidence
  • Hufflepuff: Obstetrics – Life-bringing, compassion, emotional armor
  • Ravenclaw: Psychiatry – Complexity, adaptation, creativity
  • Slytherin: Neurosurgery – Tension, precision, prestige
IMPORTANT QUESTION FOR THE TOG FANDOM

Did Rowan say “all” of his cousins were birds of prey, or “most/some”???? (In the special edition story)

I NEED TO KNOW… FOR SCIENCE

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New Hogwarts House Covers of The Philosopher’s Stone Revealed

Available from Thursday, 1st June, to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the original publishing date of The Philosopher’s Stone, 26th June 1997. Hardbacks will be £14.99 each, paperbacks £7.99 each (most bookstores will offer special prices, though).

The hardbacks will be black with the house crest in a house colour and striped sprayed edges. The paperbacks will reverse the house colour theme and have single colour sprayed edges. Both editions will contain fascinating facts about the houses of Hogwarts, and three specially commissioned house illustrations from Levi Pinfold per book.

Read more about each House crest:

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A Dropped Call

Part of my Special Relationship AU (AO3)

April 29th – 8:15 pm EDT

The beginning riff of The Clash’s “London Calling” echoed through the room, and everyone froze mid-sentence. Steve, hands tangled in a half-tied bowtie, jumped away from the cell phone vibrating against his desk. He swore under his breath and gestured frantically at the still-ringing phone. The members of the National Security Council all shifted away, some more obviously than others, until White House Chief of Staff James Barnes was the closest to the desk.

He glared at Steve, who tried to shrug apologetically, but instead managed to cut off his air supply. He gasped and frantically tried to dislodge the small piece of fabric from around his neck.

Bucky rolled his eyes and snatched the phone off the desk. “President Rogers’ phone, this is his Chief of Staff speaking.”

Steve grimaced and, still coughing, yanked on the silk tie until it ripped, the pieces drifting to the floor. He took a deep, relieved breath, and motioned the rest of the NSC out of the Oval Office.

“Thanks, guys,” he whispered as Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, phone held slightly away from his ear. “We’ll pick this up after the dinner. This call is just the first of many we’ll have to deal with over the coming days. I’d like a report on the source of the leak—this Miles Lydon kid—on my desk by 7:00 tomorrow morning, as well as a full analysis of media coverage and of the national security implications. See you all tomorrow.”

Once the room was clear, Steve squared his shoulders and reached for the phone. Bucky nodded and said, “Sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but Steve’s now available to talk to you.”

“Oh, now he’s ready to talk to me,” the woman on the other line shouted, and both men winced.

“Here he is.” Bucky shoved the phone into Steve’s hand hurriedly, uninterested in continuing to hear the lecture clearly meant for Steve.

“Hey Peggy.”

=====

Peggy was furious. She had been rudely woken early in the morning when the story broke, and her dark mood had only increased every hour, as she sat through meetings and strategy sessions full of equally angry and sleep-deprived politicians and staffers.

“How dare you,” she hissed into her phone, heels clicking as she paced around her now empty office.

His sigh rattled over the line, followed by the quiet click of a closing door and the shuffle of footsteps. “Listen, Peggy—”

“Spying on your own citizens? Your colleagues and friends? I can’t believe you would do something so stupid!”

“Now wait a minute—” Steve growled, an engine revving in the background.

“What were you thinking? How reckless and irresponsible and hypocritical—”

“Oh, please.” She couldn’t see him, but she could hear Steve rolling his eyes an ocean away. “First of all, don’t act like you’re surprised. We’re doing the exact same thing every other country in the world is doing, including you. Don’t get all high and mighty with me—we just happened to have our programs leaked to the press by a contractor. I inherited the program from my predecessor, as you well know, and no, it wasn’t perfect, but you would have done the exact same thing in my situation. And last time I checked, I’m the President of the United States, and I run my country as I see fit. I don’t report to you, thank you very much.”

Peggy picked up a pen from her desk and threw it at the wall. In her mind, the pen hit him between the eyes. “And monitoring my phone calls and personal correspondence? How do you justify that, Mister President?”

Fabric rustled against leather seats. “I didn’t—it was never—”

She scoffed. “Spare me your sad attempts at bullshit, Rogers. If you stop trying to spin this for a second, you’ll realize why I’d be so upset. Beyond the obvious breach of trust and invasive surveillance.”

The line was silent.

You call me on this phone, Steve. This—this could ruin everything. I could lose my job, my credibility, any shred of respect people have for me around the world. Do you have any idea—I am the second woman to be Prime Minister. Ever.  I could ruin the careers of all future female politicians with this scandal. You know I didn’t want to tell anyone, but now it could come out anyway. Because of a program you refused to dismantle!”

“Everything was classified—”

“Well, fat lot of good that does us, hmm? The existence of the surveillance programs was classified too, right?”

“They don’t record the calls.”

Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to relieve the pressure growing behind her eyes. She didn’t need a stress migraine on top of the current crisis. “But they do keep a record of the phone numbers and the duration of the conversations. How would it look if I spent two hours on the phone with a Washington, DC, number—one that belongs to the President—almost every night?”

On the other end of the call, she could hear the click of a door latch and the excited cheers of a crowd. There was a soft rustle of fabric—presumably Steve exiting the limo—and he sighed. “What do you want me to say, Peggy? What’s done is done, I can’t—”

There was a loud pop, almost like a car backfiring. Peggy heard Steve gasp, take a choking breath, and then there was a deafening crunch.

Peggy held her breath, trying to hear something, anything, on the other end, but it was silent.

“Steve?” Peggy heard her voice break, but she couldn’t stop. “Steve? Steve!”   

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Favorite wardrobe moments from Depressing News -

  1.  Margaret’s ducky underpants
  2.  BJ’s Chucks + Hawk’s suspiciously 80′s tennies
  3. - 5. Klinger’s many hats + Potter’s painting outfit
The Devil’s Doughnut

Carson cursed loudly as he pulled off the exit ramp to his work. It was his turn to bring breakfast for the office and he hadn’t remembered until waking up this morning. The dilemma Carson was facing was twofold: he was in direct competition for a promotion at work with Jenny and he feared she may be pulling ahead. Last week, she had brought in homemade quiche, though Carson raised an eyebrow as to the authenticity of the homemade portion of her claims. The quiche tasted suspiciously similar to the ones made at a downtown bistro their boss had previously deemed his favorite restaurant in town. Hack or not, Jenny had been praised throughout the week for her baking skills and now Carson found himself frantically wracking his brain for an immediate solution to office breakfast.

His car slowed as he passed the sign for “Devil’s Doughnuts” and after lingering long enough that a car behind him honked, Carson pulled into the parking lot.  His boss had been on a health craze lately. Though probably laying the foundation for a Human Resources nightmare, Carson’s boss had been chiding employees who were seen eating unhealthier options for their lunch. Carson had the benefit of a fast metabolism and a general apathy towards food. Eating was something that merely fueled his body from Point A to Point B. His slim frame was testament to that. Once Carson took note of his boss’ behavior towards the chips and burger crowd, he made a show of producing salads and crudités for lunch.  Earning a pat on the back and praising of his general trimness, Carson felt his chances of a promotion grow exponentially.

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