#awc imagine

[coloradoron]

An Immigration Crisis Beyond Imagining

January 2024 | Volume 53, Issue 1

Todd Bensman

Center for Immigration Studies

The following is adapted from a talk delivered on January 22, 2024, at the Allan P. Kirby, Jr. Center for Constitutional Studies and Citizenship on Hillsdale’s Washington, D.C., campus, as part of the AWC Family Foundation Lecture Series.

In 1960, the Eisenhower administration began counting the number of foreign nationals “apprehended” or “encountered” by what was then called the U.S. Border Control when crossing into the U.S. over its southern border with Mexico. These figures have been published and closely monitored through the years, and there has never been anything like the numbers we are seeing now. A human tsunami of previously unfathomable size—Border Patrol has had to handle more than 7.6 million border crossers in 36 months—has smashed every record, with each year’s numbers exceeding the previous year’s record in stair-stepping fashion.

Of the over 7.6 million illegals encountered by Border Patrol since January 2021, the number allowed to stay inside the U.S. is somewhere north of five million. But with the percentage of those allowed to stay now approaching 100 percent, if current trends hold, the total allowed to remain in the U.S. under the Biden administration will reach ten million by next January.

The U.S. has experienced surges of illegal immigration in the past, but these have been brought quickly under control by implementing policies to deter, block, detain, and deport illegal immigrants. Not this time. To put the current numbers in perspective, consider that Jeh Johnson, President Obama’s Director of Homeland Security, told MSNBC that in his time in office—when the number of illegal crossings was relatively low—he considered it bad if apprehensions exceeded 1,000 a day, because anything more than that ��overwhelms the system.” Over the past three years, apprehensions have averaged about 6,940 per day.

Even with a surge in illegal crossings in 2019—this was due to a legal loophole that encouraged illegals to cross with minors—the Trump administration had brought apprehensions down to between 800 and 1,500 a day in his final year in office, the lowest numbers in 45 years. Four months into the Biden administration, apprehensions spiked to about 6,000 per day. There were 2.4 million apprehensions in 2022, a daily average of 6,575. In 2023 there were three million apprehensions, a daily average of 8,219. Entering 2024, apprehensions were up to 12,000 to 15,000 per day.

The reality is even worse, because these numbers do not include the people who entered the U.S. illegally without being apprehended—sometimes referred to as “gotaways”—a number the Border Patrol estimates but does not make public. That estimate over the past three years is two million, bringing the three-year total of illegal immigrants to ten million—a number equivalent to the population of Greater London or Greater Chicago.

But these are just numbers. Who are these people? They are internationally diverse: 45 percent come from 170 countries outside the traditional origin countries of Mexico and Central America. Many are unaccompanied minors: 448,000 to date. More than 330 as of November 2023 are on the FBI’s terrorist watch list. Many are murderers, rapists, kidnappers, and violent criminals. More than a million have been lawfully ordered deported by judges in the U.S. but remain in our country regardless. The dismissal by the executive branch of our government of hundreds of thousands of cases of immigration law violations is unprecedented.

It is worth noting some other firsts: Mexico’s crime syndicates and their paramilitary forces have never earned so much money from cross-border smuggling, and it is reported that their proceeds from human smuggling are surpassing those from drug smuggling for the first time. Never before have the Border Patrol’s 19,000 agents been ordered to abandon vast stretches of the border to conduct administrative intake duty. Never have so many immigrants died to take advantage of policies that all but guarantee quick release into the U.S. Never has our government explicitly refused to enforce immigration laws requiring detention and deportation of illegal immigrants on the grounds that those requirements are cruel and inhumane—instead adopting ad hoc policies aimed at providing “safe, orderly, and humane pathways” into the U.S. for illegal border crossers. And never has there been anything like the current conveyor-belt policy to distribute millions of illegals throughout the American interior.

This crisis is not the result of incompetence, but of purposeful policies. What is more, America’s establishment media has largely abdicated its duty to report on the crisis, refusing to acknowledge an event that is having a greater impact than almost any other in the world today. One can only assume that the reason for this is partisan bias: after all, the crisis can easily be traced to an identifiable moment in time—Inauguration Day 2021.

Prior to that day, the Trump administration had brought the southern border largely under control using four key policies.

Diplomatic Big Sticks: The U.S. gained Mexico’s cooperation by threatening ruinous trade tariffs of up to 28 percent on Mexican goods. We gained the cooperation of Central American nations by threatening to freeze U.S. foreign aid. The cooperation of these countries consisted of two things: accepting deported illegals from the U.S. and using their military and police to block incoming immigrants at their own borders.

Remain in Mexico: Border Patrol was required to return apprehended immigrants immediately to Mexico, where they had to wait out the long duration of asylum processing, rather than releasing them to disappear inside the U.S.

Safe Third Country: Immigrants who had passed through designated “safe third countries” (including Guatemala, Honduras, and Mexico) on their way to the U.S. without applying for asylum in one of those countries were automatically deported with no chance to claim asylum in the U.S.

Title 42: This pandemic-control health order required rapid deportations to Mexico, without the option to claim asylum, of all immigrants caught illegally crossing the U.S. border.

During the 2020 campaign, candidate Biden promised to undo Trump policies within the first 100 days, to include ending detention and deportation of illegal immigrants. On January 20, 2021, he began to follow through. Four new U.S. policies and a new Mexican law are the chief drivers of the immigration tsunami we see today.

The tariff threat against Mexico was withdrawn and full foreign aid to all Central American nations was restored, freeing these countries to end cooperation with U.S. efforts to stem illegal immigration. This marked the end of the Remain in Mexico policy.

The Title 42 pandemic rapid expulsion policy was waived for most families with children under ten, for all unaccompanied minors, for pregnant women, and for many single adults from nations that would not accept deportees.

Two days after the 2020 election, the Mexican government passed a law prohibiting the detention of families, pregnant women, and unaccompanied minors. It then released thousands of families from 58 Mexican detention centers ten days before President Biden took office.

The Biden administration established an ad hoc Border Patrol turnstile honor system by which Title 42-exempted families and others were released into the U.S. with a promise to report back later; this catch-and-release approach came eventually to incorporate the aforementioned conveyor-belt policy, with Border Patrol delivering illegals to non-governmental organizations that would arrange bus and air travel to cities around the U.S.

To give the false impression of fewer illegal crossings, the Biden administration created an ad hoc system that allowed hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants to use a cell phone app called CBP One to schedule “pre-approved” entries at border crossings and U.S. airports.

Those who seek to come to the U.S. illegally are rational actors. They are more willing to pull up stakes and come when they think the effort and expense will pay off. The typical cost for the dangerous journey is $10,000 per person paid to smugglers. Few will take the gamble when the odds are against them. It’s a different matter when the odds move dramatically in favor of success as they did in January 2021.

Toward the end of the Trump administration, Border Patrol used Title 42 to deport nearly 90 percent of apprehended illegals. The Biden administration immediately reduced that number to 60. By 2023, Title 42 deportations were down to 35 percent. And on May 12, 2023, the Biden administration formally ended Title 42, and with it all instant expulsions. U.S. intelligence had predicted that ending Title 42 would lead to between 14,000 and 18,000 crossings a day, and that prediction turned out to be right. As I recently reported, it appears that the Biden administration recently took steps to reduce these numbers—most likely in response to public outrage in an election year—though it remains to be seen how long this will last.

It is too early to gauge the full impact of the ongoing settlement of millions of illegal foreign nationals in the U.S. We know that the initial financial cost is high—$400 billion, by one estimate, to feed, house, clothe, and resettle the illegals who have been allowed to stay. Then there is the burden placed on public school districts that have no choice but to take in millions of new children who often speak no English and whose educations are not commensurate with those of their schoolmates. It is probably not coincidental that hospital systems across the nation have fallen deep into the red since the great mass migration crisis began. And large cities across the nation are looking to Washington for help with unfunded and unexpected fiscal burdens reaching into the tens of billions to care for the hundreds of thousands showing up with hands out.

Expense, of course, is only one part of the equation in terms of impact. Public safety, criminal justice, and national security systems face unprecedented new burdens as the personal histories and criminal backgrounds of most of the millions allowed easy entry are unknown and, often, unknowable. Some percentage will commit crimes and—in addition to the often horrendous effects on the victims of their crimes—increase the load on our already over-burdened courts and prisons. One prays not, but some may also commit acts of terrorism. Last but not least, this great influx will increase joblessness and put immense downward pressure on wages for American workers.

It is not rocket science to figure out how to solve the immigration crisis. Nor is it hard to tell whether a politician is serious when he proposes a solution—one can simply ask whether the proposal will increase or decrease the odds that an aspiring illegal immigrant will decide to make the significant effort and financial sacrifice. For instance, in the ongoing standoff in Texas, placing razor wire at the border as the Texas Governor ordered done will clearly decrease the odds, and removing the razor wire as the Biden administration seeks to do will increase the odds. Similarly, any politician who proposes a solution that begins by granting amnesty to illegals currently in the U.S. is increasing the odds and not serious.

There are two essential steps we must take to begin to solve the border crisis:

Enforce current immigration law, specifically the requirements under the Immigration and Nationality Act to detain and deport illegal entrants.

Restore the threat of trade tariffs on Mexican goods to ensure Mexico’s cooperation with reinstituting the Remain in Mexico policy, forcing asylum seekers to stay in Mexico while their asylum claims are processed.

Three additional steps will help to solve the problem:

Withdraw from the United Nations Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees treaty, which requires the U.S. to meet outdated standards for handling asylum claimants; then institute an asylum law that ends the current catch-and-release system and requires that an asylum claim first be made in a suitable departure or transit country, such as Mexico.

Put diplomatic and financial pressure on Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica, and Mexico to implement their own policies of detention and deportation of foreign nationals who are in those countries illegally.

Close loopholes in U.S. immigration law such as the Flores Settlement Agreement—which circumvents Immigration and Nationality Act requirements for detention and deportation during asylum claims and forces the release of asylum-seeking families within 21 days—and the William Wilberforce Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act of 2008, which requires the quick release of immigrant minors if they are from anywhere but Mexico.

Our politicians know these actions are the ones needed. The problem is not a lack of knowledge but a lack of political will. Too many of our elected leaders have selfish reasons to let the border crisis continue, no matter what their constituents demand. Whether they will be able to continue in their inaction is in the hands of the American people.

[imkylotrash]

Hi if your still taking requests please could u write a Hardin Scott x sick reader. Just really fluffy. I’ve been sick for the past week and it’s killing me lol.

Thanks <3

I know I received this request a while back, so I hope you're feeling better now! 💛

It is embarrassing just how many tissues you've filled with snot. Absolutely abominable. You're not entirely sure how a person can keep that amount of snot in their body. The fever is the worst though. You’re constantly removing your sweater because you’re too warm only to put it back on five minutes later, because you start shaking from the cold. In short, you’re miserable. And you wish Hardin was here to make you feel better, but he has an interview in Seattle for his book, and you’re not about to get him sick the day before. Instead, you settle for a phone call. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

“God, you sound rough. How are you doing?” Hardin laughs on the other end. 

“Not so good,” you reply, voice shaking. You’ve hardly spoken a word for the past few days as you hid in your apartment with nothing but rom-com movies to keep you company. 

“I wish you’d let me come over. I bet I could make you feel better in an instant.” It’s true. Cuddling with Hardin would definitely improve your mood if nothing else. But you don’t want him to get sick before his big day. His second novel is a big deal. It’s the book that can make or break his career as a writer. 

“You can stop by after your meeting,” you manage to propose right before a coughing fit takes over. 

“By the time I get back from meeting you’ll be asleep,” he sighs. You know it’s difficult for him to just leave you alone when you’re not feeling good, but you just can’t say yes even though you crave the feeling of his arms around you. 

“Then I’ll just see you tomorrow. Really, Hardin. I’ll be fine.” Begrudgingly, he agrees to stay away until after his meeting, so when you find yourself awaken from your nap on the couch by a knock on the door a few hours later, you’re very confused. You open the door to find Hardin with a face mask and gloves on. 

“I even brought hand sanitizer,” he says with mischievous eyes. Before you have time to protest, he’s slipped into the apartment. He heads right for the kitchen where he starts heating up some soup. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t fed yourself today.” You know better than to try and deny. 

“I haven’t really been hungry.” This time, he’s the one that keeps quiet as he stirs the soup. You know it bothers him to see you sick and not eating. 

“You really shouldn’t be here, Hardin.” 

“Please, I haven’t been sick for the past four years. I think I’ll survive. Besides, you look like shit. I’m not letting you stay here alone.” He’s nothing if not brutally honest. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the window, you have to admit that he’s right. You resemble a ghost. 

“Eat,” he commands, handing you a bowl of soup. Taking a whiff, you recognize it as pumpkin soup. 

“Very seasonal of you,” you joke as you eat the first spoonful. It’s hot, but pretty darn good.

“Eat. And then we’ll take a shower.” Fed and bathed, Hardin tucks you into a little burrito, wrapped in the duvet. You feel just about ready to fall asleep when you feel the weight shift on the bed. Looking to your side, you spot Hardin with a book. No face mask, no nothing. God, you’ve missed his face. Just as you’re about to protest, he gives you a look that tells you this isn’t up for discussion. To be honest, you just don’t have it in you to argue with him. It’s nice having him here. He makes you feel better. 

“You might as well cuddle me if you’re refusing to listen to sound advice,” you mumble as if you’re annoyed when really every fiber of you is screaming for him to just wrap his arms around you. He doesn’t even attempt to hide his grin as he places his book on the nightstand and lies down proper. 

“You’re a stubborn one, you know that?” Your silence makes him laugh. But you’re happy he’s here. You really needed him even if you were trying to pretend that you didn’t. 

“Thank you for coming over.” 

“I told you already, I’ll always be here.”

--------

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @canthebest1 Let me know if you want to be added or removed. 

[missnctyukhei]

Angels who can’t sing | three

p r e v i o u s |   n e x t  

S T A R T

[huntersanonymous]

Never Trust a Fox

Author: sumcp

Title: Never Trust a Fox

Word Count:1126

Warning: swearing and threats

This is for @teenwolfdramaqueen‘s writing challenge. 

Prompt: “The best part of believe is the lie” -Void Stiles (it’s in bold)

Comments always welcome :)

Your life wasn’t always great, especially since your two best friends decided to go roam the woods one night during the start of your sophomore year and then one of them ended up getting bit by a were-wolf. Yeah, did that sound as crazy as you thought it did? Of course. It was fucking insane. It was a lot to take in, but you quickly became a believer. Everything that you and your boys had been through made sure you didn’t find anything surprising anymore. You came to terms with the fact your life would be thrust into danger, no longer worrying about your safety, only for your friends despite their protests. Scott and Stiles both called you reckless, but you preferred the term ‘proactive’. Despite being human, you always made sure everyone was okay except for lately. 

Life had been as sweet as a chocolate-chip cookie since Scott became an alpha and defeated the Darach, along with sending the 'death, destroyer of worlds’ blind Alpha Deucalion fleeing Beacon Hills with his tail between his legs, but of course you and your pack couldn’t catch a break. Something had to go wrong, and that something came in the form of your 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile boned best friend Stiles. He wasn’t himself, he was possessed by an ancient psychotic fox spirit hell bent on causing as much chaos he can get his skinny fingers on.

You stared at your best friend sitting on the couch in the McCall living room. You refused to leave his side, even though you knew it wasn’t him. Starring at the boy you have way more than platonic feelings for felt like there’s a cookie cutter hole right in the center of your heart. His eyes weren’t their normal honey brown, they were almost black, dark red circle’s etched under them making his appearance ten times more terrifying. You glanced at the people gathered around the dining room table, trying to come up with a plan to save the mole faced boy in front of you.

You didn’t bother joining them, knowing you couldn’t offer any sort of help to them. You were too distracted with your heartache to help him. You wanted Stiles back so bad, that you let your eyes play a trick on you as you glanced at him. His eyes were no longer dark, and he was whimpering slightly. Stiles.

You rushed to him so you were directly in front of him. You sat on the coffee table as you stared into the caramel orbs of your first love, hesitant to ask the question because you were afraid of the answer. He whimpered again, and your mouth worked faster than your brain, “Stiles?” He nodded his head slightly, a tear slipping from his eye was the release valve for all your stress. It’s him.

You gently peeled back the duck tape, but when you did you immediately regretted it. His caramel eyes instantly swirled, the darkness in them frightening your core. You swore you saw curled tendrils beckoning the unknowing into to the realm, as chaos danced behind them in tune with Menace, and madness. Stiles normally pink lips were pale, but they still formed into a smug smirk.

“Really DD… Really? I shed one tear and that’s all it takes?” The air is so brittle it could snap, and if it doesn’t, you might at the nickname. Stile’s nickname for you, daredevil. DD for short. You clenched your fist, refusing to be intimidated by the fox in his body. “Come on now DD, you can’t crumble that easy. How are you going to hold up when you lose him forever?” He taunted, a sick smile on his face.

“You don’t get to call me that, not now, not ever.” You spat, staring into his eyes.

“Oh that’s right… only Stiles get’s to call you that,” Void laughed, laying his head on the back of the couch while he stared at the ceiling, “Oh he’s so mad that I’m talking to you. I haven’t seen him this angry yet, it’s delicious.”

“Stiles I know you’re in there, I know you can hear me. Hang in there okay, we will get you back.” Void snapped his head back to you, the smile not leaving his face. He leaned his head as close to you as he could with the kanima venom still coursing through his body.

“I’m sorry Stiles can’t come to the phone right now, would you like to leave a message?” He cackled, a deep evil laugh erupted from his chest as he caught your eyes again. “I will admit, hearing him beg for your life is adorable. You don’t even know how utterly in love with you he is, do you?”

Anger boiled deep in your system, as hot as lava. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and you knew it’s too much for you to handle. He was lying, it was what void does, but the glimmer of hope that Stile’s liked you back was enough to send your heart in a frenzy.

“I can see the gears working in that gorgeous head of yours, you want to believe me don’t you. You want to believe that he loves you, and your love is enough to bring him back and defeat me. I can smell the desperation coming off of you Y/N, but do you know what?” He raised his eyebrows, gesturing for you to come closer to him. You leaned in and he smiled as he caught your gaze again. “The best part of believe is the lie.”

Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in your small narrowed eyes as you weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to you for exacting revenge. You put on your best smile, a smirk forming on your lips to match his.

“You think I’m scared of you? You think there is anything that scares me Void?” You leaned in so your breath was fanning on his face. “The pack doesn’t call me reckless for no reason, I will find a way to send you back into the nemeton even if it kills me,” his eyes widened at your words but you didn’t give him the chance to interrupt you, “I will get Stiles back. You wanted pain, chaos, and strive? Fine. I’ll give it to you." 

You put the duct tape over his mouth before he could speak and turned around heading to your friends. If he wanted a battle for Stiles, you were going to give him a war.

[tommydoesntpayforsuits]

for the fanfiction questions: 1, 15, 18, and 69. sorry if they're a lot 😔💌

No, they're not a lot, no problem, lol. I'm exactly the same way, just ask Lily.

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

I'm a dreamer. Maybe It's for the Best (MIFTB) was a series of several months of thinking about a couple's slow descent into divorce because of their mutual love for the man's child. I find that the worst way to come up with a story you love is to not let yourself get distracted. Let get bored, let your mind wander. You'd be surprised how your imagination can entertain you. I was dying of boredom when I wrote MIFTB.

15. What’s your favorite time to write?

I don't really have one, but my creativity tends to wake up in the middle of the night. Which is a bad thing for an insomniac.

18. Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

I enjoy it IF I am able to find the information I need. If I'm struggling to find one deal breaking piece of information, and I'm on my fifth obscure research paper, I would rather jump in a freezing lake.

As for the fic. Probably Among the Whisperings and the Champagne and the Stars (AWCS). The Great Gatsby is one of my favourite books, and I wanted to do right by this Gatsby inspired fic. I had studied the book in my final year of my A Levels, and had written in Fitzgerald's style before, because my course demanded for me to. So I went over old exam papers and class notes that I took about the time period, and about Fitzgerald's style. His style was the most complicated because I was so out of practice.

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

Way too many to count. I'll mention some, but I swear there are too many.

These peeps have written some of my favourite fics EVER. EVEEEER. Amazing. These are the fics that comfort me on sad nights, when I can't sleep, but I don't want to think either. Thank you to all of these writers for being such a comfort.

I am so sorry if I bothered you with this tag, by the way,

I honestly couldn't name you all the fanfic I read for Harry Potter, because I spent about 6 years reading exclusively HP fanfic every night. I have no way to keep track. So this list is only Peaky, but I'm not the best at remembering titles, so I might forget a few.

@retromafia: The Promise, Take This Waltz, Diamond's and Rust, A Blessing, A Marriage of Convenience, Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf, Somehow, Adam Raised a Cain, (Okay that's enough, so many more, Lily. So many more.)

@twistedrunes: George, Performance Anxiety, Fire In The Belly, Pup, Midsummer's Eve.

@fabulaprima: Big God, The Baker, Bitten Lips.

@hethrewmyheartinthecut: The Bride, A Battle Joined, Ten Things.

@blinder-secrets: In the Heat of the Moment, After He's Gone, In the Leaves, Count for Me, Settling Debts, As Good As Gold, Keeping Company, We Exist to Fall Apart.

@vintunnavaa: Your House, Dear Diary, Our Secret, Nothing Scars You, There's No Tom Without Pol, Take A Chance, Under My Protection, (I'm etc this, because I'm just going to end up putting Shiuli's entire masterlist here.)

@sceawere: Another Time

@celticmelody: The Secret Garden

There are so many more, but I can't remember them now, and I've been doing this for almost two hours. This was such hard work.

[Fanfiction Writing Asks]

[harryimaginedstories]

on your side

genre: au (while I don’t like the term ‘au-fic’ at all imagine the two characters are in college together and in their early twenties.) angst and some fluff as well.

about 5k words

it’s entirely different than anything I have ever published and I really love it. please let me know what you think and stay safe during these wild and often scary times. 

read more here: my stories

photo: taken from instagram, previously taken by somebody from the movie AWC, which also inspired me (kinda) to even write this.

They started arguing pretty much the second the car door fell shut behind them and even ten traffic lights, countless of turns and getting honked at twice, didn’t stop their heated exchange of words. Harry’s hands held on to the seat tightly, an attempt not to touch her thigh like he normally would, while hers curled around the steering wheel until the white of her knuckles showed. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fight. They had never been one of those couples who didn’t call each other out on their bullshit or who tried hide anger when there was reason to feel it. However, this was the first time that they weren’t on their way home, where their argument could be settled in private. Instead, Harry and Y/N, both infuriated with each other, were on their way to a party. With one generous rotation of the wheel, Y/N parked Harry’s black car in the last free niche on the street of the frat house. The vehicle gave an unpleasant sound and Harry closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. Before he got the chance to complain, Y/N swung open the door, stepped out and threw it shut hard enough to know it would set him off. 

“Jesus fuck!” Harry shouted, opening the passenger door and stepping out, too. 

She waited long enough to press ‘lock’ on the keys once he was out, then she walked away. With quick strides he caught up with her, and had he not been as angry as could be he would have probably felt hurt at her for not waiting up like she would have any other day.  Walking next to her he turned to look at her profile, trying to catch her eyes, but she refused. 

“Would you mind not taking your crazy out on my fucking car?”

“Oh, so you do care about that then. Good to know,” she snapped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N halted and so did he. They were standing on the pavement, one house away from where there could already be heard the dull sound of music blaring and a good meter of distance between them.  Any other night they would be standing there, too. Only not to deliver a few more blows before pretending to be alright while their friends were around. On any other night, Harry would have taken advantage of the warm weather, by letting his hands roam across Y/N’s bare arms. She would have given him a kiss or two and made him a laugh at least as much. He would have reminded her for the fifth time (at least) that she looked beautiful. There wouldn’t be any distance between them, let alone one entire meter.

“There is one thing I’ve been hearing clearly through all of the bullshit you’ve said today,” Y/N hissed, her lips barely moving and her hands curling into tight fists by her side, “which is that you don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Oh my god.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, his head falling back before snapping forward quickly, “You’re being such a lunatic!”

Wind picked up some of her hair and pushed the loose strands into her eyes, breaking the angry stare she’d held with him and for a moment, Harry could have sworn she appeared to be younger. Then she brushed the hair off with shaky hands and back she was, angry and exhausted. 

“You’re a dick!” Y/N squealed, 

“Well, clearly we could go on,” he snapped and rolled his eyes, “but our fucking friends are waiting for us so do you think you can manage to avoid me for the next few hours so we can at least settle this at home?” 

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her cleavage which he had tried not to stare ever since she’d put on the blue dress. That damn dress. Focusing on it now it only irked him further. She knew how much he loved it when she wore this particular piece of clothing. It had spent the night on the floor of his bedroom or over the back of a chair often enough. He was certain she’d put it on specifically to spite him. 

“Fine, let’s go. But since you’re unhappy with my parking,” Y/N stepped forward and reached up, pressing the hard metal of Harry’s car keys into his chest, “you get to be the designated driver tonight.” 

Her fist lingered on the fabric of his black T-shirt. Feeling her touch him momentarily paused his thoughts. All anger was forgotten, as if the wind had picked it up, too, and carried it far away. Harry whimpered and her lips parted, their eyes connecting without any trace of hurt in them. Then his hand found hers and she dropped the set of keys into his palm, snapping them both out of their brief moment of peace. 

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Y/N stuttered, blinking rapidly until her eyes turned darker again.

“Don’t come look for me later when you’re drunk and feeling sorry,” Harry replied, before he stepped around her and walked towards the frat building.

Y/N lost sight of him the second he stepped inside. Despite still feeling angry with him, she couldn’t stop herself from briefly wishing he wouldn’t have left her alone. She didn’t like being left alone at a party. Neither did he, for the matter, but she refused to feel guilty for sending him away. Y/N drew a shaky breath and stepped inside, instantly greeted by the smell of alcohol, smoke and pot. A big banner had been hung from one side of the hall to the other, wishing everybody a cheerful start to the new semester. Underneath mingled numerous students, all of which held drinks in their hands. Already Y/N recognized a few of them from some of her classes, she didn’t feel like talking to them however. To her luck she spotted a few friends of her in the first room she entered and was quickly greeted with hugs and kisses to her cheek. 

Dena, a girl Y/N had grown close with through sharing an equal distain for their econ teacher, pressed a drink into her hand and smiled. “You look like you need at least two of these.”

Y/N smiled sadly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well, you didn’t cheer in delight upon seeing us like you should have so,” said Clara, another friend Y/N had made whilst talking badly about her teacher.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

Dena nudged her. “Also, your boyfriend stormed past us earlier so we expected something was up.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Clara asked.

Y/N shook her head and took a long sip from her drink. It tasted of a mixture of beer and vodka, which on any other day she would have refused to drink. “I really don’t.”

“Great. Then let’s just cheer to us.”

The two girls raised their own cups and waited expectantly for Y/N to do the same. Dena grinned at her and cleared her throat. 

“To us, the coming semester, which we will fucking ace. And-” she paused, looking at Y/N, “to knowing when to kick your boyfriend’s ass. Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

Harry stood by the unlit fire pit in the lounge area, where the chairs had been pushed aside to create a dance floor. A scowl was deeply etched onto his face and he had yet to smile genuinely. He blamed the alcohol he wasn’t allowed to consume for how poorly he was feeling, but he knew even if he had drowned his veins in liquor, it wouldn’t be until he’d feel her touch him that he would be in a better mood. He stood back watching with a few of his mates, who were all except one, very drunk, as some freshmen clumsily turned the dinner table into a bear pong station. Matt, the only sober one left, had tried to get him to talk about why his mood was so sour three times already, receiving no answer each time. Harry rolled his eyes upon feeling him nudge his shoulder again.

“Where’s your girl?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know.”

He’d been cursing her short height since turning around and looking for her in the crowded hallway thirty minutes ago. She’d slipped past him without him noticing, and while he was too proud to go look for her properly, it annoyed him that he wasn’t able to casually spot her whenever he scanned one of the many rooms that had been turned into a club. He especially didn’t like it since he knew that she was drinking. Blindly he felt for his phone in his pocket, ensuring for the tenth time that its volume was turned up. Should she call him, he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t miss it.

“Didn’t she come with you?” Matt pressed on, either oblivious to Harry’s annoyance or simply indifferent to it.

“Doesn’t mean she can’t wander off on her own, does it?” Harry replied, his voice rough. 

He’d never really liked Matt. Actually, he’d liked him a lot once. They’d even considered becoming roommates in their second year. He’d liked him, up until he’d gotten together with Y/N and noticed the gleam in Matt’s eyes the first time he’d introduced her to him. Their friendship dissolved fast after.

“I’m sure she can. She’s always been good at enjoying parties, hasn’t she?”

Harry didn’t reply. Once more his eyes scanned the room frantically, detecting every single face in hopes of recognizing the eyes to the one he loved.

“Dude!” Eric, a tall and broad looking bloke who’d just become team captain to the football team, stumbled into Harry’s side, knocking him back. 

“Sorry! Shit,” Eric laughed, doubling over, revealing that he was clearly drunker than he should have been, “I’m sorry, mate. Wow, I need to lay off a little.”

“No kidding,” Harry replied, but smiled when Eric slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. The unmistakable smell of alcohol fanned over his face as Eric talked, and his nose scrunched up. 

“You’ve been wearing a look as depressing as Matt’s sex life-”

“Hey, fuck you, Eric!” Matt snapped, unamused.

“-and I intend to fix that. C’mon.”

Harry didn’t fight it as the taller guy dragged him away, out of the lounge and into another room further down the hall. He certainly didn’t mind getting away form Matt. Regardless of them having been friends once, Matt was the last person he wanted to be around when he was having a rough time with Y/N. The smoke was thicker in this room and the music a little quieter. There were less people dancing and more sitting around on the couches and chairs. A few stood by the wall in small groups and some, the ones Eric was walking towards, were standing opposite a dart board. They cheered upon seeing the two guys approach, making more noise than anybody else in the room.

“You’re on my team and you’re gonna help me win, yeah? M’taking advantage of you being sober as a stone. Your aim is probably better than any of theirs.”

Harry laughed and nodded, accepting to be involved. “I’ll try my best.”

The first dart arrow was thrust into his hand by a guy named Kyle who appeared to be on the same team. Half an hour later and Eric was grinning from ear to ear, writing their leading score numbers onto a makeshift writing board that was really just the coffee table. Something the guys living in this house would be happy to find in the morning.  Y/N watched him. Despite being intoxicated, or perhaps because of how intoxicated she was, she noticed every muscle of his back move each time he raised his arm. Her heart fluttered whenever he laughed and she felt a heat grow at the pit of her stomach whenever he leaned his head to the side, revealing the back of his neck to her. And above his neck was his ear, which hid a spot right under his hairline where he liked to be kissed. Y/N’s lips parted at the thought and her toes curled.  He hadn’t noticed her when entering the room. She didn’t blame him though, since she’d successfully hid herself behind Dena and Eric’s big body also worked wonderfully as a shield. Despite anything she’d said before the party, she was immensely relieved to see him. The vodka-beer mixture which she’d learned had been invented by Clara, was disgusting but also got her drunk faster than she had expected. Or intended. Another round of cheers erupted as Harry scored another point for his team. 

“Not fair. You won’t give them as much as a chance to win.” 

A chill rushed down Harry’s back at the sound of the honey sweet female voice behind him, and Y/N, too, froze in place. Slender fingers touched Harry’s arm, caressing the skin despite being less than welcome to. Upon turning around he was met with Silja, who’s face wore a smile equally sweet as her sly voice. Though standing by the opposite wall, Y/N swore she could hear Silja as if she were standing next to her. She would always be able to detect her voice, especially if the words she spoke were directed to Harry. 

Dena followed her friend’s gaze and raised her brows. “Haven’t seen her in a while. I thought she dropped out.”

“Would have been too nice,” Y/N growled. 

She’d never actually talked to Silja herself and she surely didn’t intend to. Before getting together with him, Y/N had been mostly oblivious to who was genuinely interested in him and who she imagining to be. Only with Silja there had never been any doubt. Even before Harry had become hers, she’d felt a bitter taste collect in the middle of her tongue whenever the pretty brunette girl tried to talk to him. Once her claim on him had become justified, she disliked Silja and her upfront behaviour all the more.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to worry about her, right?” Dena said quietly, reading Y/N’s expression, “Harry has rejected her what, three times already? Even before he was with you. He’s not interested in her.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that,” Y/N said quickly, stepping around Dena to get a better look at her boyfriend and the girl that had yet to remove her hand from his arm, “I trust him.”

“Doesn’t make her less of a bitch,” Clara grumbled, also staring at them intently. 

The three girls watched Harry turn to look at Silja. He gave her a tight lip smile before he stepped away to make room for the next player, conveniently shrugging off her hand in process. To their dismay, Silja followed him.

“I haven’t seen you this summer,” she complained in an uncomfortably high voice, that was laced with feigned displeasure, “Where were you hiding?” 

Harry sighed, wishing Y/N would find him already, and rested his back against the wall. The last thing he needed for this party to become worse were the advances of the woman standing before him. “I wasn’t.”

Their summer had been great. They spent it looking for a flat to move into together. One weekend they’d taken the train out to the ocean and spent two days in a pretty bed and breakfast, where nothing distracted them from each other and everything, even their sheets, held the faint smell of sea salt. He wasn’t about to tell any of that to Silja though. 

The girl pouted, smudging her lilac lipstick at the corners. “Didn’t you miss me at all? Not even a little bit?” 

“No.”

She smiled. Her neck moved to the side as her eyes mustering him. “You and your attitude. I really missed that.”

Harry let his head fall back and for a moment Y/N forgot to eye the girl hitting on her boyfriend and instead stared at his throat. She longed to kiss him there, too. The darkened expression taking over his relaxed face quickly brought her attention back. Thinking about kissing him had made her miss the words Silja had said to upset him. 

“You’re wasting your time missing me.”

At last, Silja’s smile dropped. “You’re still with her, then?”

“Yep,” he replied shortly. 

 “Fine,” Silja pushed the long brown locks off her shoulder and crossed her arms, “maybe if she fucked you right you wouldn’t be such an asshole all the time.” 

“Fuck off, Silja,” Harry snapped, pushing himself off the wall to instantly tower over her.

“Harry! Your turn again, mate.”

Without giving her as much as a second look, Harry turned away and followed Eric’s call. Dena’s hand rested on Y/N’s shoulder, squeezing her gently whilst smiling at her. Y/N exhaled loudly and relaxed. She didn’t doubt Harry’s capability of getting rid of Silja. She’d also truly meant it when she’d said that she trusted him. But after their argument she wasn’t so sure that he didn’t want to receive some affection tonight, be it from anybody. While she would have hated it, simply entertaining Silja’s flirting wouldn’t have been cheating. A warm feeling overtook any worry left in her body upon watching him turn Silja away. He didn’t bother look at her again but walked back to his friends to resume the game, treating her like she wasn’t even there. He didn’t even give Silja the satisfaction of remaining angered by her words. Giving up her attempts, Silja walked away and left the room quickly, her cheeks slightly rosy in embarrassment. 

“Remind me to kiss him later for that,” Y/N said, her voice holding more love for him than she would usually let on whilst angry. 

Clara laughed. “So you’re not mad at him anymore.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me that I was or I might still be.”

“What were you two fighting about anyway?” Dena asked. 

Y/N took another long sip from her drink, before remembering that she’d wanted to not drink any more for the night. Oh well. 

“He didn’t come home last night. Without notifying me. He fell asleep at stupid Rick’s place and neither of them bothered shooting me a text or ringing me about it. I spent all night worried sick.”

Y/N’s expression hardened at the thought of waiting up for him. She’d paced around the living room of their new flat before settling on the couch, vowing to stay awake until he returned. She’d had half a mind not to call his mother or sister, not quite worried enough to ask them. 

“I didn’t see him until an hour before coming here ‘cause I had to work today. So we didn’t have time to properly fight about it.”

“Didn’t he say he was sorry?”

“Sure he did, as well as stating that I was overreacting and not his mother.”

“Ugh, men,” Dena grumbled, then she changed the subject, “Let’s get refills in the kitchen!”

Harry got bored of the game after the fifth round, but stayed to play until the team he’d joined won by a margin. Then he politely excused himself from playing another round. Though she’d told him she didn’t want to see him, Harry really wanted to see Y/N and he figured over an hour of distance sufficed for her to calm down. Maybe she would even allow herself to be happy about him finding her. He strolled around the room, then went looking in the hall and finally searched the lounge. If only she were a little taller, he thought once more. All of sudden he heard a loud shout. It wasn’t one of the usual party hollers, it was one that held no joy at all. With swift strides Harry crossed the room, turned left in the hallway and entered the kitchen. This time he didn’t have to search to see her. Y/N was sitting on the counter, her legs dangling down and her hands curling around the stone surface. Across from her was the kitchen table on which all of the different liquor bottles had been placed. It was also where the single shout turned into several. A guy Harry hadn’t ever seen around campus before stood next to a broken bottle of vodka. His hand curled into a fist and his face was red. Opposite him stood Dena, a girl Harry barely knew beyond her being a friend of Y/N. Next to Dena was a guy named Dylan, his face painted with guilt and worry. 

“You fucking broke my shit!” the stranger shouted. 

Y/N flinched. It wasn’t Dena who’d pissed off the wrong guy, but Dylan who had tried to make a drink for them. She didn’t feel any less involved if the guy were to be shouting at her. The second the bottle had broken and the tall stranger exclaimed that it’d been his, Y/N had felt fear curse through her. She hated it. She hated how a man shouting was so scary that she froze in place.  Just like she always did when afraid, her eyes began to search for Harry. Heavy like a wave and equally overwhelming was the relief when she saw him lingering in the doorway.  Their eyes met. Y/N visibly relaxed. She could read the question in the look he was giving her and she eagerly nodded. There were so few people scattered around the small place, Harry had no trouble reaching the counter.  Once in arms reach she held out her right hand, whimpering when his fingers slotted through hers and holding on tight. Any anger towards each other was forgotten the moment their skin touched. Y/N gave a determined pull until he stood next to where she was sitting, her legs touching his waist. Harry didn’t say anything, but he allowed her to let go of his hand to instead hold on to his shoulder. His own settled heavily on her thigh, relishing the feeling of her bare skin. He didn’t complain when her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt, nor did she mind how intimate it felt to have his hand on her naked thigh. His eyes quickly scanned her face, waiting for her nod, confirming that she was alright. Y/N smiled gently, relief mirroring in her eyes. Harry returned her smile. His heart clenching when he noticed the faint veil of alcohol before her eyes. Ever so slightly, their heads leaned towards each other, then his nose softly touched her forehead.

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Dena said defensively, “and these bottles are for everybody to use.”

Harry shifted closer to Y/N but removed his nose form her hairline. Unwillingly he turned his attention back to where the argument grew. The stranger’s head, figuratively doubling in size by the minute, was red and looming over Dena like a balloon hovering in the sky. He had to admit it was impressive that Dena, equally short as Y/N, refused to back off.

“I wasn’t asking you! You and your friend better figure out how to replace my drink and you better do it fast!”

“Mate, lay off a bit, will ya? They didn’t do anything on purpose,” Harry interrupted, his voice calm and steady, “Why don’t you just grab one of the ten other bottles and leave ‘em alone?” 

The stranger, slightly shorter than Harry, turned to look at them. Y/N tightened her hold on his shoulder. She was mentally preparing herself to jump off the counter and at the stranger’s throat instead, should he as much as try to pick a fight with Harry. Noticing her shift beside him, Harry’s hold on her intensified.

“Leave them alone?” the tall guy snapped, “that was twenty fucking quid he broke!” 

“Bit embarrassing that you’re whining about twenty quid,” Harry said, wearing a smug grin, “and picking a fight like some kind of neanderthals who found out somebody’s pissed into his cave.” 

Dena giggled and so did Y/N, along with some bystanders who’d gathered to watch. The bloke narrowed his eyes, first at Harry, then at the girl sitting beside him. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N interrupted him. “Quit looking at me and spare me any sexist bullshit you’re about to say.” 

The guy rolled his eyes, then smiled. “You’re pretty for a bitch.”

Y/N’s hand yanked Harry back by his shoulder equally fast as he’d pushed off the counter to lunge forward and at the guy. The movement caused him to knock against the counter uncomfortably. She didn’t let go and didn’t move, despite Harry’s enraged breathing getting louder.  

“Fuck you!” Harry shouted, eyes wide. 

Anger oozed out of his pores and heat settled in the small kitchen. Calm and collected only a moment ago, he was all the more scarier now that he was enraged. Scary enough to make the stranger take back a step. Y/N loosened her hold on Harry’s shoulder, sliding her hand down to press against his back instead. She rubbed his spine gently, hoping to ease him by letting him know she was okay. 

"You need to leave,” Y/N stated, her voice calm.

“Definitely,” Dena agreed, her eyes trained on her friend before finding Harry.

He didn’t return her gaze, his eyes remained on the tall blonde. They stayed put until the guy lowered his empty cup to the table, the movement slow and deliberate. He clearly didn’t want it to look like he was leaving because he was told to, so he took his time. But finally he turned away, before at last leaving the kitchen and hopefully the party all together. 

Harry shuddered upon feeling Y/N’s nose against the shell of his ear. “I’m fine, Harry.”

“What a wanker.”

“A fucking wanker,” Y/N replied, her smile practically audible in her voice. 

Harry turned around to face her, all of his attention returning to where it belonged: her. His eyes looked into hers intently, reading every answer to all of his unspoken questions.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Are you?”

He nodded. “Did he try anything before I came?”

“I noticed him about zero-point-five seconds before you arrived, Harry. I’m fine, I promise.”

Her hands gently took hold of his face. The fingers of her left hand traced along his jawline as tenderly as one would the rim of a glass in hopes of eliciting a sound. That’s how Harry sometimes felt when she touched him. Like she was being as tender as she could possibly fathom to be. 

“Does that mean you’re gonna go back to being mad at me?” As he spoke, Harry moved closer. His hands rested on each side of her hips, allowing his body to get closer to hers as he leaned forward.

Y/N laughed and shook her head, their faces so close they almost touched. She enjoyed the warmth of his breath fanning against her throat. 

“Are you? You were at least as pissed off as I was.”

He shrugged, then playfully nudged her nose with his. “No.”

“Then I think I’ll let it go, too,” she answered, faking to be coy, “For now, you still owe me an apology later.”

Harry laughed. “That’s fair. Promise to mean it this time, too.” 

Her eyes narrowed. She took hold of his chin, holding him still so she could kiss him without giving him the chance to deepen it. The feeling of his mouth slotting with hers, be it as briefly as it was, ignited her like nothing else could. Any remaining worry was pulled from the corners in her body where it had hidden, and was thrown out not to return. Harry took over. All of the space inside her that could belong to an emotion, now belonged to him.

“I knew you didn’t mean it earlier,” she breathed accusingly against his lips. 

“I meant it a little,” he said, curling his hand around her wrist to pull away the hold she’d taken and he kissed her a second time before she could complain. 

Despite their desperation their teeth didn’t clash together, nor did their noses unintentionally bump. They’d kissed too many times not to blindly meet each other without missing. His tongue glided along her bottom lip, hers pushed his aside so it could trespass into his mouth. Frantic hands held on to her hips and her thigh, eager fingers remembered to be gentle as they settled on the back of his neck. Harry moaned and Y/N pulled away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, just enough space between them so she could speak. 

Harry’s kisses trailed down from the corner of her mouth to her cheek and her jaw, his lips warm, wet and determined. He allowed one kiss to last a little longer, followed by a small lick to her earlobe.

As satisfied as could be as long as they weren’t alone, he raised his head to look at her again. “What for?”

“Being on my side even when we’re fighting.” 

The smile gracing her features was so genuine he could have melted, just like her words were spoken with more love behind them than he could detect. He smiled and willingly moved his head to the side, so she could kiss below his ear. The heat in his belly grew and he let her know by squeezing her hips.

“Ditto.”

[annfangensenblrstuff]

Guys, I'm sorry, but I so want to throw it out here too. I am a member of many fandoms, including the "after" fandom. If someone doesn't know, but is in the fandom: Anna Todd announced that the book will not be in the movie cover. I can’t accept it and do nothing! but I'm so tired of doing everything alone, really. Very tired. I am so sorry to have found this fandom in 2019, I wish I hadn't gotten into it. I write a lot of comments on Instagram with a request to release the book (Anna cannot publish it, since the filmmakers do not allow publishing a book with a movie poster) and one of the subscribers told me that I was exaggerating the problem. Can you imagine it? Here is my answer:

“I didn't even think to exaggerate, really. I already wrote in the comments that now everyone has euphoria and rose-colored glasses, because the film will be released soon. As soon as the film stops being shown in the cinema, everyone will immediately remember about the book. And they'll ask for a movie cover, you'll see. I talked with many people who, like me, collect books with movie covers, and for them this is part of a collection that is crumbling, it is not clear for what reason. Two books came out with movie covers, and in the third book they decided not to grant the poster. Why? They give no reason. If they have a reason, then let them say it, but "because we want it so much" is not the reason. And these people, for some reason, do not understand that by such actions they only destroy the fandom. They don't think about book fans at all, and movies are based on books. I do not think this line of conduct is correct. Even if they don’t think about us, the fans "after", why don’t they think about their money? After all, they are losing a conscious part of the profits from the sale of books in movie covers. I do not see the logic in this situation, because I do not understand why these people made such a decision. And if they think the fans will accept it and swallow it, then they are not. I wrote so many such comments that it seems that I have already erased my fingers in the blood. I don't lose hope that this whole fucking situation will return to normal. It is not normal. I'm not even talking about the fact that they did not provide the poster to the author himself - Anna. Do you think this is normal? The author of books cannot publish OWN book with a movie poster, which is based on her book. Do you think this is normal? It is not normal! I saw comments from people in other countries who also do not understand why this situation happened. Is it okay to leave all countries that show a film and publish a book without a share of the profits from the sale of books? I just hope they read all the comments I write and think about one of them. You know that the last two parts are very emotional, I've been waiting for the film adaptation so much, and now what? When I saw the purple color of the lettering in the teaser, I really believed that after the failure with the awc in terms of the cover, the awf would be wonderful. I liked the teaser, I loved it, I liked the trailer, even the posters. When I saw the poster with the scene in the club, I cried with happiness - I just dreamed about such a book cover. And the songs that were written for the film are just great too. I am not belittling the work of directors, screenwriters, actors, musicians, they did a great job at this difficult time for everyone! But this situation with the book leaves a big and bitter residue from all the pluses that I have listed. I am not exaggerating the problem. It is people who underestimate the scale of the problem, and when the rose-colored glasses fall, then everyone will remember at least some of my comments. I did the same with awc - we have a trailer, a teaser, and posters, but no book. I was the only one who wrote about the book, the only one! Flip through the awc tape and you will see my messages. Then we were given the cover, but it was such a cheap photoshop that I realized that it would only get worse. But I was still hoping for an awf. I hope that everything is ahead and my beautiful and perfect cover is waiting for us beyond the horizon, to which we have come very close. Maybe a book will be announced after the film premieres. upd: sorry if not all words are clear - I use a translator”.

I am a person who goes crazy for books in movie covers, I have almost all books in movie covers at home. I buy a book without even knowing the plot if it has a movie cover. I hope anyone understands why i can't get past here. I have two books from the series in a movie cover, and they don't want to release the third part in a movie cover. And my collection is crumbling as is the collection of those who also collect books in movie covers. I’m so angry since it was announced that there would be no book. I don't know if I can influence the decision of the filmmakers. But I so want to have this book. With "twilight" and "shades" everything was easier, these people know how to promote their book! And "after" they do not know how to do it. I'm tired of this fandom both mentally and physically. I wrote so many comments that I seem to have wiped my fingers with blood. There is one abusive relationships in the book, this is the most abusive book that I have read (I have not read "365 days"), and I feel this energy now - this fandom is pressing on me, I cannot leave it. People now only think about the film, they don't need the book. It seems to me that I'm the only one who needs this book! I am so tired of fighting the whole world alone, no one supports me, no one cares.

Forgive me for this explosion.

(the poster with the scene in the club, which I am talking about in the comments, I attached to you. I would like it as a cover book)

guys, from the Russian-speaking fandom, in the next post I will duplicate the text, there is too much here already.

[americanwizarding]

I just discovered AWC yesterday and I am so happy that I did. I love J.K. Rowling but one school for the whole country didn’t feel right to me. I thought I’de share what my idea of what 5 of the 7 school crests look like. 5 because I’ve seen AA’s and I am drawing a blank for LAO. I apologize if there’s already crests and colors out there, I haven’t been able to find them and I’m still a novice to Tumblr. The runes on the Black Gate crest spell out: Blood and lake, Sky and stone, Spark and wave, Star and bone. And the Alligator on LA’s is the digit for house Reed from GOT. Thank you for these 7 schools and for your imaginations.

[screamsinfanby]

The smiles in this video were EVERYTHING

"Posing for the thumbnail..just like I always do"

**This is not my content** Video:

Okay but imagine poor AWC using paper towels to get the snow out of the wig (i wonder these things okay)

[groovenians]

what are some hobbies you think colress has?

i've mentioned before that since he made the awc that he probably has experience with sewing so i'd imagine perhaps he might have that as a hobby?? maybe he designs and modifies his clothes in general to fit his tastes, like his labcoat!! i could also see tabletop games like chess, DnD, strategy games and mind puzzles. maybe even just fun little mobile apps like pokemon shuffle!! in general i think he would enjoy crafting things by hand, especially if they require skill or making things with patterns??

to be self indulgent ummm.....he def is into sci fi genre stuff. i think maybe he hides his super geeky interests bc he wants to look like he's a Very Serious Scientist or smth....or like at least just HOW into them he truly is.....but like if he was close to someone he might let them know....maybe he would even cosplay......OH once i saw someone headcanon that he collects dice sets which i thought was cute...i think he just enjoys learning about stuff too so maybe he likes to binge watch documentaries on various topics so sometimes he at random just starts spewing information he learned (i do this myself so i felt like projecting this one lol).

ik this isnt a lot :'DDD

[a-witches-curse]

Welp! Now I am both excited and sad as the idea of L--with thier already existing angst-- in a love triangle breaks my heart further. I know you haven't gotten to it yet, but I fell like you can easily break us with that .

Surprisingly, I’m actually not the one to blame for putting L through this angst. I mean, sure I’d thought about it, but it was one of my friends who really sold me on it. She has been amazing enough to not only let me chatter on about AWC for hours on end but has also asked questions, told me her own head canons, and drawn me some art! 

She’s told me that in her canon play through she imagined her MC having a little love triangle between C, L, and the MC, while M plays the part of the exasperated friend. And I was like, well guess what. I’m about to grant your wish. So if you wanna blame anyone, blame her. (But don’t though, she’s amazing and wonderful and if I didn’t already know that this would embarrass her, I would totally be @ ing her tumblr right now.)

[imkylotrash]

I thought about another idea 😳 Hardin request, there’s a party, the reader and Hardin have a secret relationship going on and Hardin gets dared to ‘kiss the prettiest girl in the room’ to keep their secret safe he kisses Molly. The reader is heart broken but when she finds out Hardin physically vomited after the kiss because Molly wasn’t her she forgives him :)

You don't believe your own eyes. You literally can't believe what you're seeing. Because you know for a fact that Hardin did not just kiss Molly after being asked to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.

"Obviously, it was going to be me." Molly locks eyes with you and silently dares you to say something. She knows you're with Hardin even if you've both denied it several times. And she knows this is breaking your heart.

"You had some good competition, though," Zed points out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Hardin narrows his eyes but keeps quiet. He doesn't have a leg to stand on after what he just did.

"You call that competition?" You don't need to hear any more of this. You didn't even want to go to the stupid party in the first place, and now look at what happened. Without even so much as glancing over at Molly or Hardin, you get up and walk outside. Thank God you decided not to drink today. You're on the road before Hardin has a chance to catch up with you. Hardin shouts a selection of curses as he watches you drive off, but you don't really care. You never would've done what he did to you.

Seven missed calls, twelve text messages, all from Hardin. But you can't even bring yourself to read them. He kissed Molly. Of all people, he kissed the one person you hate more than anything. You stumble into your dorm room and hide under your duvet. You're not sure how much time passes but eventually, he finds you. Of course, he finds you.

"Jesus Christ, you've had me worried!" he exclaims, barging in. He doesn't bother to give you a chance to deny him before he's lying in bed next to you. His strong arms wrap around you as if you're two matching puzzle pieces, and it's just about all you can do to not give into his embrace.

"You kissed her. You kissed Molly," you cry, feeling the tears sting your eyes.

"I promise you, I hated every second. As in, I literally gagged from feeling her lips on mine. The only lips I want to feel are yours." His grip tightens, and you have to admit you feel better now that you know he hated it as much as you did.

"No one compares to you. No one ever will."

"You really mean that?" you ask, feeling all your insecurities try to claw their way to the surface. He brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face and kisses your forehead.

"With every fiber of my being. I love you and only you."

_______________

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @justyouraveragedorkygirl Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[worldseo]

roof waterproofing company

What measure of time does Sika waterproofing expect to dry?

It is recommended that a Cem I 52.5R or N is used for best results. Safeguard from wind and direct light for something like 24 hours after application. For steady submersion applications, license the treated surface to answer for right around 48 hours before bringing down. The significant substrate ought to be sound.

What is Sika epoxy?

Versatile PIGMENTED EPOXY RESIN FOR HIGH PERFORMANCE FLOOR FINISHES. Sikafloor®-264 is a pigmented, two segment low consistency, self-planning (see getting ready fragment), epoxy covering/folio used for smooth and completed coatings as well as conveyed overlayments.

What is Coba being developed?

Coba block waterproofing is the most prepared method, the procedure of which remembers laying clubs for the level significant roof and grouting something almost identical with waterproofing compound with an inclination to exhaust the surface water

What is waterproofing layer?

A waterproofing film is a layer of water-tight material that is laid onto a surface to prevent water breaks or mischief.

Is 2645 a standard?

This standard was, thusly, circulated in 1964 and was consequently reevaluated in 1975. All constituent materials in concrete including essential waterproofing must mixtures for mortar and concrete. should, very far, be freed from chlorides and sulfates.

How might I waterproof my housetop?

The following are a straightforward techniques for waterproofing your roof and assurance that your home is no issue by any stretch of the imagination.

1.        Remove each and every dead leave and branches.

2.        Trim trees close to the roof.

3.        Replace missing, turning, or damage shingles.

4.        Add assurance to your extra space.

5.        Cover wrinkles with wrinkle tape.

6.        Add a water repellent layer.

7.        Add power tape to channels from that point, anything is possible.

How might I waterproof my roof?

The following are a basic techniques for waterproofing your roof and assurance that your home is liberated from any likely mischief.

1.        Remove each and every dead leave and branches.

2.        Trim trees close to the housetop.

3.        Replace missing, winding, or mischief shingles.

4.        Add insurance to your space.

5.        Cover wrinkles with wrinkle tape.

6.        Add a water repellent layer.

7.        Add power tape to channels and that is only the start.

8.        Can you waterproof over existing waterproofing?

9.        ANSWER - If the terminated tile is presently acquainted it is essentially unthinkable with totally waterproof the floor in a little while, with the exception of in the event that you supersede the tile and present a certified waterproof layer during the replacement cycle.

10.      Do I truly need to prime before waterproofing?

11.      Where PVC is arranged at leakage wastes and waste ribs the PVC ought to be ready to stick the sealant or waterproofing layer. Surface getting ready for CFC, concrete, mortar rants and squeezed wood substrates should continually be finished with the makers showed starters.

12.      How some time before you can walk around waterproofing?

13.      Full Cure is shown up at inside 3-5 days (dependent upon temperature and soddenness). To ensure the best waterproofing for your collects make sure to totally get a handle on the essentials of the waterproofing structure and disperse time considering substrate conditions, and dry and fix times of the picked waterproofing system.

[sciapod]

So I was looking up if I had used "other's" correctly in my little piece of writing. Then I found this gem from Australian Writers' Centre, which I will now share with you.

Source

Each week here at the Australian Writers’ Centre, we dissect and discuss, contort and retort, ask and gasp at the English language and all its rules, regulations and ridiculousness. It’s a celebration of language, masquerading as a passive-aggressive whinge about words and weirdness. This week we're playing well with others…

Q: Hi AWC, have you seen the 2001 film The Others starring Nicole Kidman?

A: Yes, we have – careful though, don’t give away any spoilers.

Q: You mean that there’s lots of fog and a big old house?

A: No, that they were all really Bruce Willis the whole time.

Q: I thought I was meant to say the random things around here.

A: We can do each other’s jobs every now and then.

Q: Aha — great segue. So if you say “each other’s” it has an apostrophe before the S? Not each others’ or each others?

A: That’s right. In this case “each other” is treated as a singular entity – despite the fact that there are clearly two parties involved.

Q: Did you say two parties?

A: Please don’t do a thing about two cakes, two sets of balloons and two DJs.

Q: Fine, I won’t.

A: Good. So, like most singular nouns that indicate possession with apostrophe-S, so too does “other”. When teamed up with “each other” we get an example like: “The school children ate each other’s sandwiches.”

Q: Were any of them Nutella sandwiches?

A: No, the school has banned all nuts due to little Jaxon in year 1 who has an allergy.

Q: I knew a girl once with a peanut allergy. Her name was Anna…

A: That’s nice.

Q: … Anna Phylaxis.

A: Ignoring that. So was it just one question about “others” – or did you have others?

Q: Actually I do have others. Are all three variations possible in English? Others, other’s and others’?

A: They sure are. As we’ve already established, “other’s” is the possessive form of “other”. So for the other two, let’s imagine there are some chocolate bunnies on a table. Three people donated them (as part of some bizarre grammar experiment). So for the plural, we might say “I’ll take these bunnies and you take the others”.

Q: Okay, sure.

A: “Others” without an apostrophe is just your run of the mill plural.

Q: When I was young, my dad once gave me run of the mill. The town didn’t eat bread that week…

A: Sorry to hear that. Anyway, our other example might be: “I’ll take this person’s bunnies and you take the others’ bunnies.” Those bunnies belong to more than one person – a group – hence the apostrophe after the S.

Q: This all seems very greedy…

A: Yes, true. It’s not even Easter yet.

Q: So I could say “Eating all that chocolate affected others’ opinions of her”?

A: That’s right – it’s clear that there are multiple opinions, so they belong to a group.

Q: Any final comments?

A: Well, this chat only scratches the surface of the many hats that the word “other” uses. We might just mention one more time you’ll see “other’s” – as a contraction for “other is”.

Q: Example?

A: “There are two chocolate bunnies left over from the experiment. One is here and the other’s over there.”

Q: Seems rather colloquial. A bit like “This epinephrine pen’s so useful”.

A: Yes, we’d suggest restricting contractions like these to dialogue. But just letting you know they exist.

Q: Good on you – we always have each other’s best interests at heart.

A: There are others who may disagree with you, but that’s just others’ opinions.

Q: Wow, you’re good.

[veryeclipselawyerhairdo]

On the occasion of the 4th African Writers Conference that held in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania on October 9, 2021 on the theme "The Future of African Literature", the Citizen Newspaper Tanzania published an article that featured writers and storytellers that have been engaged in telling the African story and creating spaces for new voices in the African Literature. This newspaper featured Nnane Ntube, a vibrant writer and poet from Cameroon, and panelist at the 2nd African Writers Conference (2019) in Nairobi-Kenya whose theme was “Cultural stereotypes in African Literature: Rewriting the narratives for the 21st Century Reader.” The first African Writers Conference (AWC) held in Abuja, Nigeria in 2018 on the theme "Re-imagining African Literature: New Voices, New Narrative in the Fight for the Girl Child." The third AWC (2020) held in Lusaka, Zambia has as theme "The African Identity". And the fourth (2021) held in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania on October 9, 2021. The theme for this edition was "The Future of African Literature." https://www.instagram.com/p/CU5MLYZN--s/?utm_medium=tumblr

[casa-deco-brico-gradina]

The structural engineering is an essential component of Architecture. The creativity and imagination of an architect come to reality by adopting a suitable structural system.Architects should understand the basic principles and concepts of structure in order to apply the structural system suitably. It is also needed for an Architect to communicate effectively with consultants and contractors about the conceived structural system.