TakingFlight48

🥰🤣🥰🤣

U.S. sales of the 20 top-selling drugs totaled $101.1 billion in 2020, while sales of these drugs to the rest of the world totaled only $57 billion, highlighting how Americans massively overpay for drugs, a new Public Citizen report found.

Some drugs saw greater disparities than others. For example, AbbVie earned $16,112,000,000 from U.S. sales of the autoimmune drug Humira, compared to $3,720,000,000 from international sales, or more than four times as much. For 17 of the 20 top-selling drugs worldwide, Big Pharma made more from U.S. sales than from sales to all other countries combined, and for 11 of the 20, U.S. sales revenue was double that of the rest of the world or more, the report found.

Additionally, 11 of the 13 pharmaceutical companies selling these top drugs made more money in the U.S. from these drugs than they did in the rest of the world combined.

The analysis offers a glimpse of how much these businesses benefit from the American health care system overpaying for drugs. The U.S. is one of the only high-income countries not to negotiate the price of drugs. Granting Medicare the authority to push back against pharmaceutical company profiteering would mean an end to decades of overpaying for medicines and would save the U.S. billions of dollars.

“This eye-popping rip off Big Pharma is getting away with is an insult to the American people,” said Rick Claypool, a Public Citizen research director and co-author of the report. “Empowering Medicare to push back against inflated drug prices is the responsible and commonsense way to stand up to the industry’s greed – which, certain members of Congress should be reminded, lawmakers in both parties have been promising to do for years.”

👉🏿 https://www.citizen.org/news/report-for-17-top-selling-drugs-big-pharma-made-more-from-u-s-sales-than-from-the-rest-of-the-world-combined/

Last week, we learned that Merck is planning to charge Americans 40 times its cost for a COVID drug whose development was subsidized by the American government. The situation spotlights two sets of facts that have also gone largely unmentioned in the legislative debate over whether to let Medicare negotiate for lower drug prices.

Fact one: Americans are facing not merely expensive drugs, but prices that are examples of outright profiteering.

Fact two: In many cases, the medicines we are being gouged on are those that we the public already paid for.

Decided I should have done the right thing the first time and simply reposted it so everyone can enjoy who has yet to see it.

Edición harmony realizada en diciembre del 2019. 

Que belleza!!!!

I mean, you asked for it, ok? (Also I cheated, this is 250 words!)

They came for him at dawn.

Aurors in scarlet robes, the colour of blood and passion, marring the cool, perfect green of the Manor gardens.

She reached down for his hand, and he gripped hers a little too tightly.

The lead Auror stepped forward, brown eyes wary. The Ministry had wanted it to be Harry, but he’d refused.

‘Time to go, Malfoy,’ the Auror said. ‘Say your goodbyes.’

His grasp on her hand tightened, and they turned to one another. He reached up, gently wiped away a silent tear.

‘Please don’t be sad,’ he whispered, and kissed her before she could reply. She kissed back, tasting the salt of both their tears on his lips. Her heart beat desperately against his, horrified for what was about to happen.

‘I love you,’ she managed, as they broke apart. ‘Always will.’

The Auror took another step forward. ‘That’s enough now. Take him away!’

Two more came forward, grabbed his shoulders, started to pull him backwards. She didn’t release his hand, didn’t look away from his silver eyes.

‘I love you, too,’ he said, fingers twisting in hers as the Aurors pulled him backwards. ‘More than you could ever know.’

She surged forward, wanting to keep hold of him, to keep him forever, but the lead Auror placed a heavy hand on her arm, held her back.

Draco’s fingers slipped away, and Hermione fell to her knees in front of the empty Manor.

‘You really love him, don’t you?’ he murmured brokenly, tears welling in his own eyes behind his glasses. Hermione gave another strangled sob and nodded frantically, and Harry sighed and kissed the top of her head.

She had already lost so much, given so much, for the war effort. Her childhood, her home. Her parents, Obliviated beyond reversal. Her relationship with Ron, fading as quickly as it started.

But then she had Draco, and Hermione had started to heal.

‘How much do you love him?’ Harry asked now, cautiously. Hermione sniffled pathetically, and finally looked up at him. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot and pained.

‘More than I can put into words,’ she replied.

‘If you mean it,’ Harry said, ‘if you really mean it, if he is the one, if you’d be happy leaving your life and friends and future here in Britain behind…’ He paused, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart as he thought about losing Hermione. ‘I’ll go and get him.’

‘Harry, I don’t underst —’

‘Go and pack a bag. Quickly. Meet me at Grimmauld Place, and be ready to leave the country as soon as I get back.’

‘What — how?’

Harry stood, his eyes blazing. ‘Just do it, Hermione. I’ll fix this.’

He would be brave, in the face of this last terror of his life. Brave, so Hermione would not have to suffer more pain, knowing how scared he would be in his last moments. His mind shied away from thinking of her. It was too painful, and he didn’t want the Dementors to steal those precious memories before his allocated time.

The cell door clanked, and he looked up, holding his breath. It was still a little early: there was an hour until he would be taken before them.

Harry Potter, in full Auror robes, grim expression on his face, marched into Draco’s cell.

‘Potter?’ he uttered, his throat scratchy. Was he hallucinating now, the fear too great to face reality?

An Azkaban guard muttered something to Potter, and he nodded sharply. The door closed behind him, and the guard’s footsteps echoed away.

Potter pulled something out his robes: something silky and gossamer, like water made solid. ‘Quick as you like, Malfoy,’ he hissed, and threw the material over Draco’s head.

It was an Invisibility cloak. If Draco weren’t so confused, his heart still thrumming with terror, he would have stroked the soft material in wonder.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked instead, bewildered.

Potter’s grim smile widened.

‘Justice.’

Still, it was a job, it was well-paid, and the shifts were mostly bearable. And once in a while, something really exciting happened.

Like Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, Head Auror-in-the-making himself, turning up during a quiet shift.

Bob turned his head towards Malfoy’s cell, waiting for Potter to re-emerge. He wanted to look at him again, properly. Not in a pervy way, mind, just so he could describe it to the wife later. As if summoned by Bob’s thoughts, Potter stepped out of the cell. He waited just a heartbeat too long before closing the door.

Bob got to his feet, lumbered towards him.

‘All sorted, Auror Potter?’ he called, and Potter nodded. ‘Glad we could help.’ Bob gestured towards the cell. ‘Just need to check the prisoner. Protocol, you understand.’

Before he could move, Potter’s gaze hardened. He crooked his fingers.

‘Not today,’ he said, his voice soft, and Bob frowned as his body grew sleepy and heavy. ‘You’ve already checked the cell. Malfoy is still there. You just need to write it in your book, remember?’

Bob hummed dazedly. Ah yes, of course. What was he thinking? He’d seen Malfoy with his own eyes, in the cell. He turned to his book to record the visit, but Harry Potter aimed his wand at Bob’s face.

‘Obliviate.’

Draco’s scheduled execution time.

‘It’ll be okay, Hermione,’ she whispered to herself. ‘It’s Harry, after all. He’s got out of worse scrapes before.’

Yes, her mind echoed, traitorously, back. But only because you were there with him.

She shook her head, biting her lip. Harry would not let her down. She looked hopefully over to the fireplace, but it stayed stubbornly dead: grey, ashy, cold.

She wrenched open her beaded bag in an attempt to stop dwelling on horrible thoughts: Dementors, namely, and their gaping, empty maws.

She’d never unpacked her bag following the war. She’d simply cleaned, repaired, and restocked everything, shrinking the bag down and keeping it in her pocket at all times. She ticked off items as she peered in: tent, food hamper, books, fully-stocked Potions kit, spare clothes - unbeknownst to Draco, Harry or Ron, she had several changes of clothes for each of them squirrelled away.

A familiar whooshing from the fireplace instantly caught Hermione’s attention, and she whirled on the spot, eyes wide and heart paused.

Harry stumbled through the Floo.

Alone.

‘Oh,’ he breathed, and reached up to grasp the silky material of the Invisibility cloak. He yanked on it, pulling it away and leaving Draco standing in his kitchen, still shaking slightly from his short incarceration.

Hermione fell into Draco’s arms. Harry watched them, surreptitiously - or so he hoped, as he searched through his pockets for what he needed next. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned down to nuzzle his nose against Hermione’s hair, breathing in deeply. Hermione buried her face in his neck, and Draco held her as if he’d never let her go again.

Harry hid a smile. He was fairly sure he’d made the right decision, no matter how much trouble they were about to get into.

‘Time for soppy reunions later,’ Harry said gently, and Hermione and Draco sprang apart guiltily. Harry held out his hand, a linen-wrapped bundle in his palm. He unwrapped it with his other hand, and nodded at the mud-grimed golf ball that lay there.

‘On three,’ he said, and counted them down.

Three hands reached out to touch it, and with a swirling rush of magic, the Portkey activated.

He landed on his knees, and promptly vomited onto the grass. Hermione was by his side instantly, her gentle hand soft on his head. When he looked up, Potter’s green eyes were sympathetic.

‘Almost there,’ Potter said quietly, and Draco nodded wearily, letting Hermione help him to his feet. They were somewhere wild, and green. Broad, sweeping hills surrounded them, a dark lake glittering in the distance. A long, lonely cry carried on the breeze, and with a flash of bronze, a dragon looped low over the horizon. ‘Come on,’ Potter said, and strode off with a purposeful pace.

They hiked for about an hour, stopping every fifteen minutes or so to gasp air back into their lungs, and take gulps of water from the bottle in Hermione’s bag.

‘Harry,’ panted Hermione. ‘Where are we —’

‘Not here,’ Potter replied, and carried on marching forward. Ten minutes later, they reached the edge of a forest, the gurgling of a stream echoing from beyond the trees. Potter walked up to Hermione, pushed back a lock of her hair, and whispered something to her. As her eyes opened in wonder, Potter leaned forward, his breath hot as he murmured against Draco’s ear.

‘Harry Potter’s cottage, the edge of the unnamed forest, Romania.’

As Draco blinked in surprise, a sturdy, grey-stoned cottage came into view.

‘Harry, when did you —’

Harry gave her a sad smile. ‘Remember when I disappeared for two weeks, the day after the battle?’ Hermione nodded, and Draco squeezed her hand reassuringly. They’d been so worried, when Harry vanished without a word, still covered in blood and scars from the war. ‘I did it then. I wanted somewhere safe, so the people I love wouldn’t get hurt if it happened again.’

Hermione bit her lip as tears filled her eyes. ‘Oh, Harry,’ she murmured.

‘I’ll do everything I can,’ he said, his green eyes intense behind his glasses. ‘It might take years, but I’ll get you home. I promise.’

Hermione pulled him into a fierce hug, and after a heartbeat Draco wrapped his arms around them both.

‘Thank you, Potter,’ he whispered.

Hermione felt Harry press a kiss against her hair. ‘Keep her safe, and happy, okay, Malfoy?’ Harry’s voice was gruff, as if he were trying to keep the emotion from it.

‘I promise,’ Draco said, echoing Harry’s earlier words.

Harry stepped away, gave them one last smile, and Apparated.

They were safe at last.

Harry walks towards the cottage with a lightness in his heart that makes him feel weightless. He’s already grinning as the door opens, and a tiny, blond-haired figure runs - well, toddles with intent - towards him.

‘Uncle Harry!’ cries Scorpius Granger-Malfoy, tumbling into Harry’s arms and squealing with delight as Harry scoops him up and spins him, high in the air.

Hermione is at the gate, one hand resting on her heavily-pregnant belly, Draco by her side. They both smile, easy and happy, as they watch.

Harry carries Scorpius towards them. Hermione’s hair is loose and curling, her skin glowing, her eyes alight with joy. And Draco shed his mantle of fear long ago, growing into manhood with an enviable ease.

Harry loves them: they are his family, as much as he is theirs.

‘Cup of tea?’ Draco offers, their usual routine. Harry had visited them at least once a month for the past seven years, but his last recent visit - to celebrate his promotion to Head Auror - had been a little over three months ago.

I’ll be back soon, he’d promised in the last of his letters to Hermione.

Harry shakes his head, letting his smile spread.

Hermione gives him that Hermione look, blazing eyes and furrowed brows. ‘What is it, Harry?’ she asks, her voice trembling.

Harry reaches the gate, and Scorpius automatically holds out his arms to his parents. Draco takes him from Harry’s arms, dropping a kiss on Scorpius’s soft blond hair.

‘I did it,’ Harry replies, simply.

Their eyes widen. Hermione’s hand drops from her belly, reaching for Draco’s hand instead.

‘You did?’ she echoes, a catch in her throat.

Harry nods. ‘Draco’s name is cleared, his warrant is rescinded, and the Ministry will be sending you an official letter of apology soon.’

Draco gives a short, huffing laugh, but his eyes sparkle with something dangerously close to emotion. He hides it by burying his face in Scorpius’s neck while Hermione strokes his arm.

‘We can come home?’ she asks, clearly needing to hear the words from Harry himself.

He looks at the little family before him, and feels a surge of pride: not only for his best friend, and her stubborn - but loving - dedication that made this happen, but also for his own part, in trusting Hermione, and giving her the chance she needed to make this happen.

Harry smiles, his cheeks hurting with the sheer joy he feels.

‘You can all come home.’

@kiwi05622 have you read thissssss @aneiria-writes did it again.

Harry: They’re okay I guess. If I saw one I wouldn’t t throw a rock at it

Hermione: Why… why would you throw a rock at a child

One of the main problems with the Dodo is something that is sometimes hard for people without a background in zoology to pick up on, and that is the extreme anthropomorphism of wild animals in their content. Anthropomorphism happens when we erroneously apply human behavior and morals to animal interactions, which might not sound like a big deal at first but is actually incredibly dangerous for both humans and animals. I have seen an article from the dodo claiming that a pet alligator “loves hugs” from his owner. Reptiles do not experience or exhibit emotions the way humans do, and to posit that any alligator loves hugging humans is an absolute recipe for disaster. This is far from an isolated incident in their content. They infamously posted a “heartwarming” video of a polar bear “petting” a sled dog with its paw and suggested that even polar bears can’t resist patting an adorable dog. They later had to pull the content because it turned out that the bear had killed and eaten the dog later that night. Polar bears do not see dogs as cute companions; this was an example of a predator/ prey interaction. If a viewer doesn’t have much background in the behavior of alligators or polar bears, they might accept the Dodos captions as fact, and walk away with a dangerously false perception of how these animals behave.

What matters is recognizing change is the only constant and love, true love, is finding comfort and a desire to exist with someone through each unexpected shift.