I’m not saying that we should coddle them, or have sympathy for them. I’m saying we should love them as God does. No they are not innocent, nor misunderstood. But they are human beings created in the image and likeness of God.

The war in tormented Ukraine continues to cause suffering far beyond its borders, especially in the poorest countries, where so many people depend on grain imports. I make a heartfelt appeal to the parties to the conflict to allow for the safe transport of grain through the Black Sea. The daily bread of millions of people cannot be held hostage by the war.

the root psychological reason why men (especially Gen Z’s) are having such a tough time in the dating market is because it is so much harder for men to self-actualize in today’s economy than women i genuinely believe this is the root cause & until the economy gets better, the problem will only get worse

*The following is a rewrite of the Quidditch match from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, found in Chapter 10: The Rouge Bludger, from Draceana(Malfoid)'s perspective.* Draceana had expected the glare, she just didn’t expect what lay underneath. Harry’s eyes stabbed into her from across the Quidditch field, their green hues darkened by a hate that almost startled her. She’d merely called the Granger girl by what she was, to remind her of her place while she so brazenly stuck to Harry’s side. The boy didn’t even seem that offended when she called her a mudblood, but now… it must have been Weasely again, corrupting Harry with his family’s whimsical and backwards way of thinking. It was inevitable, but she never expected it to result in that look on Harry’s face. Even as Flint and Wood walked out to meet with Madam Hooch, Draceana’s attention was still on Harry, and he her. What face was she showing him, right now? She always maintained her smile, that mask of confidence that few had seen break… but he was among them. Her lips almost fell at that thought, but she drove their corners higher in the face of that. She was a Malfoy, a pureblood. Harry Potter would not be allowed to see past this smile, not anymore. “On my whistle,” Madam Hooch raised her hand,” Three…two…one…” The crowd roared the moment she brought her hand down, its sound pushing their brooms into their ascent towards the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than them all, his eagerness clear, nearly entrancing. Draceana clenched her jaw. “All right there, Scarhead?” She leaned into her broom to speed underneath him, to show him just how much faster hers was. No response came from the boy, something to tell her that she’d gotten under his skin. She turned to try and dig deeper, but her eyes widened upon seeing the bludger speed by his head. “Close one, Harry!” George Weasley streaked past the seeker, his club at the ready. The bludger spun around, its angle too tight compared to usual arcs that Draceana practiced with, and flew towards Harry once again. George batted it away, aiming the ball towards Adrian Pucey, but again it swerved at sharp angle to go towards Harry again. What was going on? Her thoughts nearly made her blind to the bludger now flying at her, knocked away from Harry by George. She spun out of reflex, but the ball swerved back before even reaching her and flew back towards the opposing seeker again. Harry urged his broom into a burst of speed, zooming to the other end of the pitch, but the bludger whistled along behind him. Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; they were supposed to try and knock as many people as possible off their brooms so why- Draceana shook her head. There was no time for these thoughts. Whatever was happening was just a string of coincidences, well deserved coincidences. She narrowed her eyes and peered around, searching for the familiar golden glint that she’d engrained into her mind during training. It was found streaking past one of the Slytherin members, and Draceana leaned in after it. The nimbus kicked forward in a burst of speed, and she was off. All else on the field became blurs, visual white noise that bled way as the image of the Snitch became clearer in her eyes. Rain began to fall, but it was invisible to her eyes. She weaved through the battling Gryffindors and Slytherins, ducking under the thrown Quaffle and spinning above the bludger. That convinced her that all was normal, and she darted towards the Snitch once breaking from the tussle that was happening around Gryffindor’s goals. “Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero-” Lee Jordan’s voice faded into the background of her mind, despite booming across the field. All she needed to know was that they were beating Gryffindor, and the moment that she caught the Snitch, they will have utterly crushed them. It was getting closer now, all she had to do was reach out and- Three shapes zooming past her forced her into a dive. She growled and turned to them to lash out, but stopped upon seeing that it was Harry with George and Fred. The Weasley twins were practically pressed up right against the seeker, their arms flailing around as they kept batting away the bludger that hounded Harry. She didn’t have long to process that, for the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle cut across the arena to signal a time out. Draceana descended to the ground and walked towards her team, spying a glance at Gryffindor. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was clear that the Weasley twins were incensed about something. Her distraction from their waving arms made her walk into the back of one of the bigger Slytherin players, who looked back at her and huffed before leaning into the huddle. “We’re pounding them into the dirt.” Flint’s voice was dripping with smug glee. He pointed at the two of the chasers. “You two, keep the pressure on the keeper. There’s no way they can keep up with our brooms.” One of them smirked. “Easy task, those Weasley boys are too preoccupied taking care of their precious Potter anyhow.” Draceana looked for an opening in the huddle, but none was given to her. Adrian Pucey shifting his shoulder opened a small gap, which she forced herself into. The glare from him that followed nearly made her slink back, but she kept her head facing forward to listen in. Flint pointed at the beaters. “Start whittling those louts down. Without the Weasleys, the rest are easy targets. I don’t want to see a single one of them sitting on their brooms.” Draceana pointed towards herself. “What about m-” “Break!” The team scattered and took to their positions on the field. The nimbus’s in their hands stood stark in Draceana’s mind. Her father had bought them those brooms, but she’d trained, she’d tried so hard. Didn’t that warrant some recognition? Off to the side, she saw Gryffindor break their huddle and get into position. All of them gave Harry pats on the shoulder, and even the team captain looked upon him in reliance. She grit her teeth at the sight. Why was it always him? Why did people like him so much, so easily? Their eyes met for a moment, and this time the glare was shared. Madam Hooch’s whistle signaled the game to resume. Harry soared high into the air, and she chased after him. The rainfall was getting heavier, and she laughed to herself as the boy wiped at his glasses fruitlessly. He swopped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled, all to avoid the bludger that kept zooming at him. George and Fred were not there to bat it away, but still, somehow the seeker persisted. Laughter echoed out from the crowd at Harry’s display, ebbing and flowing as he swerved up and down around the edges of the stadium. Draceana joined them. It served him right. The bludger whistled past Harry’s ear, and he was forced into a ridiculous twirl in trying to avoid the ball’s following charge. She snickered at him. “Training for the ballet, Potter?” A buzz started near her ear, but she ignored it, too caught up in her satisfaction. The boy fled, the bludger trailing right after him, but his eyes glared at her, hatred clear within them. She returned the feeling right back, opening her mouth to say something as he came to a sudden stop to hang in the air. The bludger cut her off. It struck Harry in his elbow, the following crack of breaking bone a clap of thunder that boomed into her ears. The boy slid halfway off his rain-soaked broom, holding on with the crook of his knee while his right arm dangled uselessly at his side. It all happened so fast that Draceana didn’t know how to react. There was a vibrating at the side of her head, but her shock upon seeing Harry so hurt shoved that feeling away as quickly as it came. The bludger pelted back for another attack, its path clearly aimed at his face, but despite his injuries, Harry swered out of the way. The seeker rose up his eyes remaining focused on Draceana, and he broke into a dive aimed right at her. “What the-” Her eyes widned in fear and she careened out of Harry’s way. Her vision was spinning during her recovery, but even through that did she see Harry’s fingers close around the golden glint of the Snitch. With only his legs to hold onto his broom, it fell. A yell traveled through the crowd as he crashed into the mud. He rolled off of his broom during the process, his arm hanging at a strange angle. Draceana could hear his groans of pain through all the whistling and shouting. Before she was even aware, she was also on the ground, just a few paces away from the crowd that formed around Harry. The snitch was still in his good hand. “Aha.” His voice was the very definition of vague, but the triumph it declared was clear. “We’ve won.” Then he fainted. She felt her legs moving towards him, but stopped them. The mass of people around him was getting thicker by the second, all filled with worry. Draceana stepped back and looked back over the field, seeing that Slytherin’s team was already walking off it. More than a few sharp look from them were thrown her way. What had she even done? The reason they were all doing so well were because of her father, because of her. She looked back at Harry, at all the people around him, all the people that brushed past her, and stomped away.

A girl ghosted me because my birthday being in February gave her the ick

I go on twitter -> I read yearnposting -> "huh women are kinda nice maybe I should get a girlfriend" -> I open the dating app -> I am filled with disgust and regret -> I go back to twitter -> etc.

There’s nothing dignified or decent about live-streaming executions. It’s the worst kind of medieval barbarism and would shame and diminish America if it happened. Staggered you support it.

Something creepy I guess: Growing up, my grandma always said 'If anyone asks if you're a (insert German last name here), you tell them you're from the good side.' NEVER questioned it until 2018, when I was working in a family med practice. I had a patient recognize me and ask if I'm related to (insert grandma's name). I said 'Yes?' And he went 'Oh so you're a (insert last name)!' I immediately said 'Yes, but I'm from the good side!' DUDE LAUGHED AND SAID 'That's good! I'd hate to hear otherwise.' BEFORE GETTING CALLED BACK BY THE MA.

You are a legit psychopath if you want to watch a public execution

A lot of talented people are also lazy, specifically BECAUSE they’re talented. It came easily to them, so they never developed the capacity for relentless grinding that’s always required for success. You can’t control how much talent you were born with, but you CAN control how hard you work… as they say “hard work beats talent, when talent doesn’t work hard.” And yes, talent/natural ability is 100000% a real thing. Anyone who’s played a sport can tell you that. Some people are just born with a higher level of natural ability. But a lot of those people also complain, skip practice, etc.

never judge a book by it's cover.. you never know one's internal battles

Harry leaned back in his seat. “I honestly can’t tell if she’s having a laugh or taking it seriously.” Lyra spun around in the room, red crayon in her hand, its mark a misshapen lightning bolt on her forehead. After stumbling for a moment, she righted herself and thrust the crayon up high. “Am Hawy Pottah!” Harry swayed his hand back and forth. “Swish and flick, Lyra! Swish and flick!” Lyra looked back at him, eyes wide, nodded vigorously, the threw her hand back and forth before thrusting it ahead. It looked like she was swinging a sword more than a wand. “Take dat, Baldemort!” Draceana snickered at Harry’s side, covering her mouth. “That’s a new one.” Harry titled his head back and forth. “She’s not wrong either. I regret not saying that to him now.” “‘Tom’ aggravated him more than anything, so I think you chose well.” She gave him a side eye. “You always had a knack for getting under people’s skin.” Harry rubbed his beard. “I don’t know whatever could have given you that impression.” A soft crash of toppling wood, like multiple pieces had fallen, echoed out from the room. “Jamie!” Draceana raised her voice just a touch. “You better not be stacking blocks on Albus’s head again!” “N-no!” The response was nervous, a tell tale sign. Then, a not so hushed tone followed. “Tell her Albus!” “Bah!” “See? We’re ok!” “Boo.” “Nobody asked you, Severus!” Draceana rubbed her brow. “What one wouldn’t give to have someone taking after their mother for once.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Do you honestly believe that? Just look at her.” Lyra spun in the sunlight again, a confident grin on her face that bordered on smug. Draceana snorted, but looked away. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. He leaned in close to her, “She even says our name like a certain someone.” “It gives her charm.” She looked back at him with a smirk. “It worked on you, didn’t it?” “…after a time.” The sound of more toppling wood bounced into the living room. Draceana sighed. “Lyra, do be a dear and make sure your brothers… that Jamie isn’t up to no good, will you?” Lyra turned around and saluted with her wand. “Yes, mother!” A wicked grin came over her face and she rushed into the other room. “You betta be weady! Hawy Pottah is coming after the bad boys!” Harry chuckled. “The spitting image.” Draceana clicked her teeth and elbowed his ribs. “Oh, shush.”

VOLDEMORT: OH MY GOD! IT'S ALL PEAK! THE ART! THE STORY! THE WRITING! IT'S ALL TOO PEAK! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! DEATH EATER: Uh, my Lord, shouldn't we, you know, continue killing or something? VOLDEMORT: SSSSSSSHHHHHH! BE QUIET OR I'LL CRUCIO YOU! LET ME READ AND WITNESS PEAK FICTION IN PEACE! DEATH EATER: B-BUT, MY LORD— VOLDEMORT: I SAID SILENCE! LOOK AT THIS ART! LOOK AT THIS STORY! THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! THE FORESHADOWING! THE ABSOLUTE CINEMA! IT'S JUST TOO PEAK! TOO PEAK, I TELL YOU! DEATH EATER: ...My Lord, um should we VOLDEMORT: I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT RIGHT NOW! I'M READING AND SEEING HARRY WITH MALFOY NOW! DEATH EATER: BUT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE DARK LORD! VOLDEMORT: AND THIS, YOU FOOL, IS THE DARKEST DEPTH OF MY ADDICTION! Voldemort slowly turns another page, his red eyes trembling. VOLDEMORT: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! ABSOLUTE PEAK! AHHHHHHHHH TOOOO PEAK!

Good night oomfs and y'all!

I also like the idea that Lucius realizes this and then just goes “Ah hell, I guess I’m gonna have to kill the Dark Lord.”