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[donatellawritings]

touch - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): none

song: nothing specific - whatever you desire

Richie absolutely feels the need to constantly maintain physical contact with you, especially if you are in the same vicinity as him, it brings him comfort, plus, it shows everyone that you're his, he'd never waste a chance to show his girl off

If the stars were to align and you both had the day off, nine times out of ten, the two of you would spend it together - whether you chose to spend it at home, or out running errands, Richie made sure to be at your side. If it were to be a day spent on the couch, Richie would be found laying on your stomach, mindlessly toying with the waistband of your shorts as you scratched at his scalp

Now, running errands easily became a challenge with a lover like Richie Jerimovich - if you bent down to grab your favorite box of cereal, there he was, either slapping your backside, or pretending to bang you from behind. And heaven forbid, if the young cashier happened to become a bit too smiley with you, you'd suddenly feel the weight of Richie's arm hanging around your shoulder as he stares down the cashier

Whether it be a drive home from work, or a drive to pick up Eva from school, maybe even a quick drive to pick up your paycheck - Richie's hand never failed to make its way to your thigh as he patted your leg along to the beat of whichever song that happened to be playing on the radio. And boy, did he love whenever you'd randomly lean over the center console to steal a quick kiss from him, even though he'd quickly become stressed out, "I'm going to fuckin' crash, if you keep doing this, sweetheart," and he'd say it with a gleeful smile

Of course, you loved having a bit of innocent fun with Richie's need for physical touch - maybe, you'd purposely brush against him as you made your way through the restaurant, or you'd allow your hand to fall high on his thigh as you leaned over him to talk to Sydney, maybe you'd even slide your hands across his stomach and nuzzle yourself into his side as he obnoxiously ranted to Neil

Now, what Richie loved the most? Showing everyone that you were his girl, and his alone. If you were at the bar, he'd have you sitting in his lap as he bounced his knee. If you were at dinner, he'd have your fingers interlocked with his across the table for the entirety of your meal - he'd even make sure to press his lips to your knuckles every now and again, sometimes he'd playfully bite down on your knuckles, for his own satisfaction.

You would think that his cravings for touch would calm down a bit, once the two of you were asleep, but you couldn't be more wrong. "Come here, baby, its cold," he'd rasp as he groggily pulled you into his chest, hooking your leg over his front as you sleepily hummed in response. And if you'd manage to roll over in your sleep, Richie would somehow find himself with his head laying on your chest with his hand cupping your breast, underneath his oversized shirt that you'd staked your claim on

Richard Lawrence Jerimovich absolutely loved taking showers with his girl. Half of the time would be spent with him rambling on and on about his frustrations at work, while you stood of your tiptoes to properly shampoo his hair, "Hold on, babe, let me fuckin'," he turned you around as he began to work the shampoo into your hair, "ah, there we go, so I fuckin' told Carmen-" and he'd continue his rant, unknowingly lulling you into a silent trance, but he didn't care, he got to play with his girl's hair while she leaned her naked body into his touch

Maybe physical touch eased his always looming cloud of anxiety? Maybe it made him feel wanted by the one he cherished the most? Richie doesn't know what it was about feeling you that could bring him back down to earth, even at his most blistering fits of rage, but it soothed him, it made him feel safe. Feeling you was a reminder to him that he has you, and god, Richie Jerimovich can never get enough of his girl

-

thank you so much to my first ever anonymous request who sent this in <3 this was so so so much fun and cute to write and thank you for being my first request xoxo

[flem17ng]

Pretty girl: KCC x reader

keep on pretending, pretty girl

note: here it is! I may have made myself cry writing this

summary: Kyra is straight. She has liked boys since she was little. She had boyfriends all through high school. She is straight. At least she thought she was... but then she met you.

warnings: internalized homophobia kinda, Kyra being a cutie, angst (Sorry), the effects of the lesbian master dock, happy ending (Because i Ilove ya'll)

word count: 4.8k

"Kyra!" you yelled from across the dance floor, "come dance with me!" She hesitated for a second before moving towards you. It wasn't normal for her to think twice about dancing with her best friend but recently she had been getting weird feelings every time she saw you, or was near you... especially when she was near you.

The club was crowded with sweaty couples, all twirling together in time to the pounding music. Kyra finally reached you and you danced. some mindless pop ballad that neither of you knew the words to. You watched her dance, one hand in the air, grinning like a maniac and giggling. She was absolutely gorgeous like always.

"how much have you had to drink ky?" you asked with a smirk as she moved closer to you.

"huh? nothinggg" she slurred, proving her point moot. You knew she was drunk, she only got touchy when she was drunk and now she had a hand on your waist was was slowly dancing into your personal space. Maybe if you were smart you would confront her about this, but you weren't. On the contrary, you were utterly and completely in love with her. So instead you pushed her off you gently, grabbed her hand, and subtly started pulling her towards the door. You weren't smart but you were wise enough not to let her get ahead of herself. Your best friend was straight, you knew you had no chance, it would be torture to let yourself pretend while she was like this.

"come on ky ky, let's get you home" You opened the club door for her and let her walk onto the street.

"it's so pretty tonight!" she exclaimed, looking up at the Sydney city lights before turning to you, "you are so pretty tonight" she giggled. You tried to ignore the way your heart stuttered at her words and her drunken smirk. It helped to remember that she didn't mean it. Kyra walked towards you with a cheeky grin, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"you are the prettiest girl in the world! you know that right" she laughed. you just frowed and looked at the ground.

"come on. You're drunk. I'll get you an Uber." You took out your phone and started typing when you felt her lean forward and press a quick kiss to your cheek. You wished it was easier to fall out of love with someone, but it wasn't. Especially when that someone was Kyra. Kyra with her perfect teeth, her tanned skin, and her warm eyes. Kyra who sent you 'good morning texts' and knew your coffee order off by heart. Kyra was standing on a street in Sydney on a Saturday night with the prettiest smile. Kyra who was straight.

When the Uber finally arrived Kyra pouted. "I don't wanna leave you," she whined and you smiled at her before paying the Uber driver and giving her a quick hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home ok?" She nodded and gave you a drunken wave before getting into the car and driving off.

***

Kyra woke up with a headache and three text messages.

2:45am:

Y/N: Get home safe?

6:30am:

Y/N: hey ky. I dropped some painkillers at your door! I hope the hangover isn't too bad :)

tinder: you matched with Tom G! Message him to get a conversation started.

Kyra groaned. The odd feeling in her chest was back. It was like a flipping fluttering feeling that seemed to appear only with you. It would be a pleasant feeling if it wasn't mixed with the plummeting sensation of dread, confusion, and (weirdly) guilt. She clicked on the notification from Tinder first. The guy wasn't bad-looking, he had similar hobbies. But as Kyra looked through his photos again, she couldn't help but think he looked a little bit like her best friend... she closed her phone. She didn't have training that day so there was no reason she would have to bump into you. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time you you! But she knew she got ahead of herself when she was drunk. She says things she shouldn't, and she gets touchy. She knows this because she does it on purpose: always acting more drunk than she is, leaning into you, batting her eyelids, and knowing she'll get away with it. She knows you won't call her up on it.

Maybe she would meet up with that Tom guy anyway. Why the hell not? She was young and single, and straight and so was this guy. She was sure of all those things! So why did she feel so horrible when she opened up her phone again, ignoring your texts and tapping on the Tinder app?

Kyra: Hey x

Tom G: Hi :)

***

"Y/n you can't just let her do this to you" Ellie groaned as she took another large gulp of her coffee. It had been a few weeks since the club with Kyra and ever since, she had been cold and distant, making up lame excuses about seeing some new guy. It was a cycle that was familiar at this point: Kyra was your best friend, you were her pretty girl, she gets drunk, she flirts, she gets cold, hooks up with a few guys, and then comes back to gossip about it. Unfortunately, Ellie had been there to see it all.

"Look I know! but I just can't help it ok! When she wants me I..."

Ellie's expression softened with understanding. As much as she wished she could snap you out of it and point you in the direction of literally any other woman, she knew it would never work.

"you know my opinion on this. Drunk words are sober thoughts and all that." she shot you a sad smile.

"Yes well. her sober thoughts right now are all about some guy called Tom." you rolled your eyes. Stupid Tom and his stupid XY chromosomes. You chewed your muffin with an aggressive frown. Ellie shook her head letting you finish your bite so you could continue.

"And besides. Yes! maybe she is gay. but she certainly doesn't know that does she. What's the point Ellie?" you sighed. "she only wants me when she's drunk. in the morning it's like nothing happened"

"Look I don't know what you want me to say! You need to get your mind off her. Go hook up with someone" Ellie rolled her eyes. She was terribly supportive but there was only so much delusion she could take in one morning.

"See I would... but she's asked me to come round for a movie tonight" Ellie just groaned. You could never pull yourself away from Kyra, no matter how much you tried. It wasn't like you did try though. you drank the rest of your coffee, feeling suddenly like a bum on a bar stool.

"You're too young to look so hopeless! You're attractive, and queer in Sydney for god's sake!" She laughed, giving you a playful slap on the arm. You knew she was right even if you would never tell her she was. Your phone buzzed.

Ky 🤍: can't wait to see you! I have to tell you about Tom ;)

"Jesus Christ I'm pathetic" You covered your face with your hands dramatically.

"Correct! Now finish your muffin so we can pay and leave please."

***

Kyra rushed forward into a hug when you arrived at her door a few hours later. She was dressed in a loose pajama top and shorts and her hair was in a messy bun with strands out to frame her face. You wished you could greet her with a kiss, or run your hands through her hair... Instead, you returned the hug, handed over the bag containing ice cream and snacks, and walked into the apartment like a friend would.

"I missed you!" Kyra shouted from the kitchen as she put the icecream in the freazer, "I feel like i havnt seen you in forever"

You swallowed back a remark about kyra ignoring you for days and choosing some guy over you and instead followed her into the kitchen with a grin.

"I missed you too Ky! How have you been?" you knew better than to bring up your last outing to the club. She would brush it off with a joke or get cold like she always did.

"Well... Tom took me Bowling the other day! It was so romantic" She giggled, grabbing her phone to show you a picture of the two of them at the bowling lane. You swallowed hard and nodded supportively.

The night wore on relatively the same: you talked and laughed and gossiped about your friends. Kyra was only about 2 wine glasses in when she started feeling weird again. Maybe it was the way your hair was sitting or the way the light was hitting your face... Either way, she needed to be close to you. On the couch she cuddled up to you, resting her head on your chest while some movie played on mute in the background. When she closed her eyes and listened she could hear your heartbeat under her head, slow and steady. The movie, a rom-com, must have been coming to an end as the two characters finally got together in a scene that might have been heartwarming if either of you had been playing attention to the plot.

"Y/n?" Kyra asked suddenly.

"hmm?" You had let yourself relax a little into the sofa as the night wore on and now rested a hand on top of her head gently.

"I dont want Tom to be my boyfriend" she whispered, so quiet you almost didnt catch it.

"I thought he was romantic? and smart and handsom?" you asked, looked down to were kyra lay with her eyes squeezed shut on your chest.

"I don't know i..." Kyra opened her eyes and looked up, your faces suddenly very close together. "I don't want him to be close to me like you are" She admitted, her voice sounding vulnerable.

"He woldnt be! It would be different. He would kiss you and all that." you responded confused. Kyra had had boyfriends before, she knew what that relationship entailed.

"But I want to do that stuff with you!" She smiled moving her face even closer so your noses brushed. You felt your heart drop. You had hoped the evening wouldn't take this direction mostly because you wanted to save yourself the pain.

"Kyra..." you breathed. You knew this is when you should pull away, push her off you, and tell her to sort herself out. Instead, you just squeezed your eyes closed in hopes that she could sober up and stop playing with your feelings. "You know it hurts me when you do this Ky..."

"I don't want to hurt you" She whispered and you could hear the cheeky smirk on her lips. You could feel her wine breath on your own mouth. God why was it so hard. You opened your eyes, only to find her still close enough to touch. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. She was looking at your lips and you knew the kiss was coming before she even leaned in.

It was sloppy and one-sided. You refused to kiss her back despite how much you wanted to, despite the way your heart raced at the feel of her warm lips on yours. She tried to deepen it when you placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her away softly.

"Enough. Time for bed"

"But you taste so good" Kyra giggled with a pout pulling on her rosey cheeks. You swallowed and shook your head. You had let it go too far, you needed to stop, you needed to leave before you did something stupid like let her kiss you again.

"Tom wouldn't mind me kissing you silly" She laughed finally rolling to the other side of the couch to let you stand up. You felt your eyes sting a little. You wouldn't cry in front of her, you wouldn't let yourself be comforted by her.

"I don't want you to kiss me Ky. Just go to bed now" You didn't wait to see her pout at you because you knew your resolve wouldn't last if you did. Instead, you turned on your heel, grabbed your bag, and headed out of the apartment.

***

9:45am

Ky 🤍: Oh man I drank way more than I thought last night! I can't remember anything from after we turned on the movie lol

You rolled your eyes when you saw the notification. At this point, you could predict the fallout of every possible flirty Kyra situation based on her first text of the day. She wasn't a lightweight, she knew how to hold her liquor so the part about not remembering anything was nothing short of a blatant lie and you knew it. Maybe a year ago, hell maybe even a month ago, you would have let her get away with her bullshit, but not now. Yes, you loved her but you loved her when she was just being herself, not some character she pretended to be. Maybe that's what made it so painful: not because of what she did when she was drunk but because deep down you knew that she knew exactly what she was doing while she was doing it. She knew what she was doing when she kissed you, she knew what she was doing when she told you she wanted to be with you...

You needed space, no matter how much it hurt. So you ignored her text. And her call that came later. And her offer to get coffee the next day.

1:05am

Ky 🤍: I miss you pretty girl ;)

That notification was soon replaced with:

Ky 🤍 Deleted one (1) message

A few days latter and kyra stopped trying to call. Part of you was thankful... But most of you just wanted to cry. It was self preservation mostly and Ellie agreed it was the right thing to do. But you couldnt help but feel you would loose your best friend if carried on ghosting her.

10:30 am

Ky 🤍: Tom asked me to be his girlfriend btw.

That was when you really did cry: Hot heavy tears that seemed like they would never end. The tears brought with them a horrible emptiness and you mourned not only your friendship but that delusional part of yourself that still believed that one day Kyra would realize you were there for her all along.

11:00 am

Y/n: Thats great Kyra! sorry I've been off grid for a while :)

You hated yourself as soon as you pressed send. But it was Kyra, and no matter how bad it hurt you were there for her. It wasn't her fault you had a silly crush on her after all. You bit down another sob that threatened to break free. here you were again, making excuses for her.

11:05 am

Ky 🤍: SHE'S ALIVE!! come to the bar tonight to meet him? pleaaseee

Y/n: I'll be there.

***

"Y/n I didnt think we'd be seeing you here tonight" ellie called from the booth that was already very full with the rest of your group. Ellie shot you a knowing look as kyra shot up from her seat to great you with a bear hug.

"Well... I needed to meet the mystery man didn't i?" you tried for a smile but it came out all forced and wrong.

"Come on! Sit next to me. I already got you a drink" Kyra shot you a winning smile as she turned back to the table. You couldn't help but smile at the spring in her step.

Tom sat on her otherside seemingly unaware of the subtle tension between his new girlfriend and yourself. Maybe the tension was in your head you bagan to think...

But then you felt a cool hand rest on your thigh and you knew it wasnt. Kyras hand was hidden by the table but you could feel it: Resting on your bare leg, slightly too high to be friendly. You ignored it at first, taking another sip of your coke, laughing at something sam was saying.

But then she gave your leg a squeeze and you felt your breath hitch. Her fingers absent-mindedly began fiddling with the hem of your dress. You shot her a look but she wasn't even looking in your directing.

Already you caught yourself making her excuses: she was nervous, she was a little drunk and did not realize what she was doing, and she was a touchy person by nature (this was true).

"You are my favorite. You know that don't you" You flinched when you felt her hot breath tickle your kneck. You had been so engrossed with your thoughts that you hadn't even noticed her leaning towards you to whisper in your ear.

"Please get off me Kyra," you said, a little loudly making Ellie and Sam look at you with concern. Kyra's smirk dropped into a genuine frown.

"What?" She didn't sound drunk now. You turned to face her, a knot forming in your throat. You couldn't hurt yourself like this, not when her boyfriend was sitting at the same table. Not when you had spent every day since you were 14 falling in love with her.

"I said, Get off me" You pushed her hand off your thigh and stood up suddenly. It was too hot in the bar, too crowded. You turned and almost ran towards the door, needing to get away from Kyra's shocked face, Tom's stupid smirk and drawling voice, and Ellie's pitying expression. No sooner had you exited the bar did you head her run after you.

"What the fuck was that about Y/n?" she shouted, looking disheveled and shocked. You could have laughed.

"What was that about? I could bloody well ask you the same thing. Has it ever occurred to you once, that I'm more than just your drunken experiment" you yelled back, "I mean really Kyra! We're experts at this little dance by now."

"What are you talking about?" you really did laugh then, only to stop the hot tears waiting to burst.

"you get drunk and you want me. I'm your favorite, I'm your pretty girl, I'm the most beautiful person in the world. And then the next day I'm what? nothing? your best friend?" The tears start rolling now, making it hard to breathe but you need to get this all out. It's been welling in your chest for years, building pressure and heat and now you need to let it go.

"So what is it ky? Do you love me like you say or is it just the wine? or sorry, is it Burbon today I didn't ask." you knew it was cruel, especially as you saw the understanding in her eyes. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you. I can't keep wasting my love on you when you can't even return it." Your cheeks felt hot despite the cool breeze and your heart raced.

"Y/n he's not my boyfriend... he asked but I said no," she said quietly as if that was a balm.

"Who cares Kyra? because if it's not him it's some other man. It's anyone but me. or at least until you get a couple drinks in." Kyra was definitely sober now if she wasn't before. Her expression was somewhere between guilt, anger, and hurt. You wished you would hold her, kiss her, and make it all better but it wasn't possible.

"I do... I do love you like I say when I'm... drunk," she muttered to the floor. "I just- I need to figure it out. being with Tom it's like-"

"pretending. It's pretending Kyra." there was no anger left in you now, just sadness. Kyra loved you but she wouldn't face up to it without being knockout drunk and what was worse? you had wasted all your love on her.

"Y/n I love you though"

"Stop. You're being mean" a sob escaped you, "Just keep on pretending. I can't wait around for you to figure yourself out." You took a couple steps backward, suddenly feeling deja vu from the last time you found yourself outside a club on the street with Kyra. She must have had the same thought because she looked up at the city lights, the colours bouncing off her wet cheeks. Before she could look back at you and break your heart more, you turned and walked up the street, hoping she had the sense not to follow you.

***

You didn't talk for months. 3 Months and 2 weeks to be exact but who was counting? Kyra broke up with Tom that night without hesitation. She knew what the weird feeling she got when she was around you know. She had been so scared so so long it felt weird to put a label on the emotion. She loved you. Was in love with you to be exact. And as far as she knew, you hated her. All she could think about was how broken you had looked as you shouted at her. You looked so tired and hopeless and it was all because she hadn't realised how she was affecting you. It was just fun, drinking a little as an excuse to be close to you. She knew kissing you at her house that day was a mistake but it's all she wanted to do.

"Kyra you messed up mate. You're really in the doghouse." Sam stated from the other side of the couch while Kyra cried yet again. All she seemed to do now was cry.

"Is she dating anyone?" She asked. sam just shook her head and didn't answer. She had already told both of you that she wasn't going to be the middle man of this mess.

"I know it's hard to face up to these feelings ok? But remember what she told you? You need to figure yourself out before you try to make things right."

"It was hard for me too" Kristie rubbed her back as she entered the room, "I mean things are pretty uptight where I come from and I just wanted to fit in. I know that isn't quite the issue for you but-" she shrugged "For me it helped to remember that life is too short to give a shit about whether you like a boy or a girl."

"I like girls" Kyra stated (It had taken a long time and a lot of girls in red music videos to realise it but now she was dead certain), "But I don't just... I love her." She deadpanned, looking up at Kristie. "That's so scary..."

Sam shrugged again, "It's scary sure, but from the sounds of it she feels the same"

Kyra snorted, "Well maybe she did before I fucked it all up."

"Look man, she isn't going to be the one to reach out to you. No matter how much she loves you, that girl is stubborn as hell. You need to be the one the make amends." Kyra nodded.

She loved you and she knew that now. She loved the way you teased her for her bad jokes, she loved the way you smiled and sang in the shower. She loved to way you squinted your eyes when watching a movie. She missed you. And she knew now that she was a damn fool for thinking any differently.

***

The past few months had been rough to say the very least on the matter. You had taken Ellie's advice and gone out to a few clubs, hooked up with women whose names you can't remember, and tried your best to forget about Kyra. Every other morning you seemed to be waking up in a bed that wasn't yours, and every morning without fail you felt a deep hole in your chest like something had been wrenched out of place. You wanted her, yes, but you needed security more and that was something she wasn't able to give you. Not if she wasn't even able to admit she was gay.

That morning, exactly 3 months, 2 weeks, and one day since you last saw Kyra you felt as though you might finally have forgiven her. Sure you were upset and hurt and embarrassed, and you were sure as hell done making excuses for her; But at the end of the day, Kyra was your best friend and, if your recent escapades had taught you anything, she was also the love of your life.

The knock came at your door when you were halfway through your third cup of coffee for the morning. It startled you enough to leave you swearing and rubbing your hand where you spilled the drink.

"Coming!" you yelled, dropping the cup off in the kitchen before padding barefoot towards the door, expecting the mailman or a delivery. When you opened the door to see Kyra you were glad you had already put your mud down or you would have dropped it again.

"Kyra?" her name felt weird on your tongue, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," She said simply, stepping in and shutting the door softly behind her.

"You could have texted"

"No, I- I needed to talk to you"

"Well. You're talking now" You couldn't help but be a little aloof, you had no idea where to conversation was going to go. Kyra took your statement as permission to continue.

"Can we sit please?" You nodded and led her over the the kitchen where she sat on one of the bar stools. You stayed standing, leaning your hip on the counter.

"I'm sorry" she blurted before you could say anything, "I'm sorry for treating you like shit and for ignoring your feelings, I'm sorry it took me so long to figure myself out. I'm sorry I pushed all these guys in your face like I had something to prove to you. Most of all I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I felt sooner because maybe we wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place." She took a breath and rubbed her palms on her thighs nervously.

"The truth is that all those times I flirted with you and stepped over the line... I was not drunk at least not like I acted to be. It was a confidence boost I needed to say what I was thinking, what I am always thinking. I've realised now that I've loved you for years, maybe longer. I knew I felt different towards you than I did others but it was so scary."

You nodded, feeling a knot of emotion form in your throat. Here she was, after months of not talking, saying all the things you had been longing for.

"And I know that it's going to take some time to trust me again" Kyra looked into your eyes now, feeling more confident, "But Y/n I love you so much it hurts. I'm done pretending ok? I'm yours." She smiled softly, "If you'll have me that is."

You watched her fiddle with her fingers for a second before opening your mouth.

"Kyra you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that." She smiled at you and your heart skipped its familiar beat at the sight. "You're right, I'll need time but..." You stood up straight and walked towards where she sat, "I want this so bad Ky."

You stepped in between her legs and cupped her face between your hands. You watched her eyes go a little wider and her cheeks go pink. You felt her heart speed up under your fingers and for the first time, it was you leaning in to kiss her. Her lips were soft and warm and minty. Her breath was hot and clear against your skin. She wrapped her arms around your waist and sighed against your lips making you giggle. You ran your fingers through her hair like you always wanted to and pulled back slowly. Kyra's eyes were still closed, a small smile on her swollen lips.

"You're the prettiest girl in the world Kyra. You know that right?" Kyra opened her eyes and smiled her perfect smile and your chest filled with a wave of warmth. You would take it slow with her, careful... but in that moment it was everything just to be near her and she felt the very same.

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around her tightly. You just needed to hold her, to keep her there so she wouldn't leave. As if she read your mind, Kyra moved your hair and planted a small kiss on the side of your neck.

"I'm not going. I promise" she whispered and pressed another feather-light kiss under your ear. Maybe you were a fool, maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were just stupidly in love with this girl. Whatever it was you knew she was telling the truth. Kyra Cooney-Cross was done pretending.

[digenerate-trash]

Yoo some Apocolypse sydney faction ideas!

• The reason sydneys faction is so important is because of the books and clothes! The schools water system is too old to rely on electricity, so it's basically an unlimited but controlled recourse. But it didn't take long for the electricity to go out, removing the schools lighting and heating/ac entirely. Thanks to windows being dangerous, places with lots of them are considered either dangerous or are covered up so that the turrets aren't alerted. That leaves everywhere really dark (how rogue kylar lives. Bitch can see in the dark and sleeps in lockers) and very cold at night. That's where sydney comes in- before the apocalypse, he already had the keys to the school and the library due to coming in and leaving late to open and close it, and he keeps them extremely close. His books and even his clothes are used as tinder for both lighting and heat, which is essential, although he is extremely stingy- he chooses what books are allowed to be burned, and his lambs are punished if they burn books friviously, and he also drives a hard bargain. His main import is water- one full bucket in exchange for 3 books, and a 3 days rations for clothes. People mostly use clothes as replacements if theirs are too damaged (they usually pay robin a ration of water to mend clothes, but sometimes they are unable to.) And as mostly bedding these days, due to how limited the resource is.

• The library itself is locked at almost all times, making it impenetrable. It's very dark, and almost fully silent. People sleep on clothing beds between the library's aisles, and sydney's quarters are behind his counter, where he has his chair covered with clothes as a bed and the under counter where he keeps his favorite books. The changing room is mostly storage, but also where he punishes his straying flock.

• Sydney is extremely strict with his sheep, and keeps his group extremely small and close. You have to prove to him you belong, and if you mess up, he punishes you in the churchly fashion- pain. Fire is the only good method for it. If you act out minorly, he puts the fire close to your skin and let's it redden and become painful, but if you steal or betray him.. you are burnt and cast out into the rest of the School with a brand. It's why it's so hard to get spies into his faction- hard to tolerate without the proper conditioning that his loyal flock receives. You get bedding and good food and water, but you have to lose your individuality- you have to follow every rule- you have to lose all contact with the outside population. While most students outside of this faction have given up on staying clean, Sydney demands it- it's why he trades for so much water. All of his children and himself are as clean as possible given the circumstances- hair brushed, washed and combed through in the bucket, and bodies washed of any blood or grime. If you try and sequestered water or stay unwashed, you are punished. Yes I like giving them a god complex </33

• When you're sent out to trade with the rest of the School, you are not allowed to speak. A piece of paper covers your face with the resource you're trading, and it's impossible to tell who you are. It's both isolating and it keeps you safe- Whitney can't target you personally when all of you look the same, when they can't even hear your voice. They also have a dress code- plain grey School Cardigan, and long black school skirt/pants. All in the name of avoiding vanity and keeping safe and anonymous for Sydney.

I imagine being sydneys favorite sheep in the herd would be rather suffocating> :3c

- Dolbog! (Will be making ocs for this au)

OMG EVERYONE FUCKING LOOK

I gotta say I love it when yall contribute to my whack ideas-

Sydney facing into his deepest religious teachings to keep himself safe crating structure for his faction as well as making a system that ensures he's safe as well.

Also sydney making sure that paper over the face to hide identities is smart.

Plus you know that if you're sydneys favourite little lamb you're kept so far away from the rest of the rifraff.

[carmyism]

homeroom.

sydcarmy highschool au ... carmy is 18 and syd is 17 !

warnings : none besides richie

if by any chance more parts are wanted i'll move over to ao3 !!

carmy wasn't a bad kid by any means. but he wasn't so good either, shitty grades, enough to pass but not enough to have it framed on the fridge. And when you're the scrawny short kid who's just a little too good in cooking class. You're bound to be the victim of a few jabs to the face.

but, he doesn't mind. that much.. It's definitely not fun to come home and bolt to your room because your eye is painted purple, but to be honest, he'd bolt there anyways. No matter the color of his eye. It's not like he loves it there.

So school was a safe haven. In some ways, but as his eyes finally focus on the board, his heart drops to his ass, and he's really thinking about messing up that perfect attendance that he's got going for him.

"Morning Mr. Berzatto!" The burly science teacher exclaims, eyes creasing as he plops down at his seat, Carmys hand raises, unsure what noise would come out if he attempted to open his mouth right now.

A few more voices fill the room, a recognizable face handing him a quick wave before finding a spot at the front. He swears passing period is double the normal length, anxiety pooling inside of him, his leg bouncing unreasonably fast as his eyes lock onto the clock, counting every tick of the red hand.

the bell snaps him out of a daze of sorts, that same teacher nearing the front of the class. "Hello class!" He exclaimed, and if he was being honest he wasn't even processing the words the teacher was saying. murmurs and blurred words passed him for several minutes. "No—Sorry but it's—Well if you'd" it was a terrible start to class. and an even worse start to this proj—

"Carmen will be with..." He freezes, leg stopped moving. "Sydney Adamu." His hand moves to point out a girl at the front of the class. She turns her head and offers a soft smile.

She's got big eyes, her hairs natural, and she's got this sort of vibe to her. Like a warmth, if that makes sense, like something you'd venture to in the cold of a storm. "You can move now." The jock sitting next to Carmy flies from his left side, kicking the chair out so hard it basically hits the back of the class.

Sydney drags the chair into the desk and plops down beside him. "Hey." Her tone is mixed with a light sigh, and it's making Carmys stomach turn. She's not excited to be partnered with him. At all, she's got a friend in here that she was hoping for she's—

"Carmen?" She says, her head moving a tinge forward. He coughs. "Yeah—Sorry." He drags his hand down his face in an attempt to wipe away the bad thoughts. "Call me Carmy please." He says. "—I also didn't pay attention at all. What are we doing?" He asks like a scared child, like he might lose his door if he asks it incorrectly

He gets a small laugh from Sydney, "It's due tomorrow, we've just gotta make a presentation about some chemical property" He nods as she speaks. "Okay." He responds and kinda looks at her like a lost puppy, hoping she'd take charge and tell him what they're doing.

"We could go somewhere after school to finish it?" She offers, shrugging subtly as she finishes the sentence. Carmys face is unreadable, but inside he's confused why someone would wanna be with him longer than an allotted class period.

He nods, "I'll drive. We can go to that diner downtown." Sydneys eyes widen as he says this, like she was hoping she'd get an excuse to go there again. Carmy fights a smile, and fights the sudden stir in his stomach. "Okay."

-

Standing at the stairs was terrifying. Carmy bit the edge of his cheek, chewing on raw skin. "Carmy?" A warm voice says behind him. He turns around, Sydney standing there with a soft smile, and to be honest the anxiety washed away. "You ready?" He asks, his head pointing towards the door.

She nods and steps off the stairs, following behind him. The walk to the car is quiet, leaves and wind crashing against their skin as they move. It's not bad quietness, something calm falling over them. As they approach his car he slides in and waits for her.

She offers him a soft smile, turning his car on—

"Fuck." Carmy utters, the engine sputtering, his head flops onto the wheel. He drags his head away from it and tries once more, it sputters again. He groans and throws his head back.

Sydney looks at him, a little unsure on what to do. "Do you drive?" Carmy questions, pulling his phone out. "Uhm—No." She responds. He nods and throws the phone onto his ear.

"Carm?" Mikey's voice rings through.

"Hey." He lets out, his face a silent plead to get off this call.

"What's up?"

"Cars down again. Can you give me a ride?" He asks, his teeth back on his cheek.

"Shit. I guess." He responds, letting out a sigh that was masked by a breath.

"Sorry." He murmurs, his hand flying to his face. Scratching subtly, a weird attempt of wiping the anxiety off him.

Some words leave Mikey's lips, none intelligent-able through the shitty speakers. 'Yeah yeah. Bye.' Carmy responds, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Silence fell over the two in the car, Sydney's gaze locked onto her legs as she pattered her feet on the ground, Carmy was doing everything in his power not to look at her.

It was weird to him; Having someone who wasn't family in his car, but especially a girl. He thinks the silence is for the best, because honestly he's unsure what they'd talk about.

"Why are you in Chemistry as a senior?" Sydney asks, her tone is genuine, not an ounce of malice in her words. "Failed last year." He admits, "Tried to wave the credit, saying culinary counts as a science. They didn't like that." He shrugs, laughing at his own memory. Sydney mirrors him, a very soft smile contouring her cheeks.

They share a gaze for a few seconds, until they both snap out of it. "How badly did you fail?" Sydney perks up, Carmy looking at her "—Only if you want to tell!" Her hands fly up in mock surrender. "Got a 56% in total." He says, "Flunked the final test bad. Got a 34%." Sydneys face morphs into one of.. surprise? concern? Carmy can't put his finger on it, but whatever it was it was it was making him overthink.

"That's impressive." She teases, her tone is mock sincere, setting her lips subtly before letting out a dry laugh. "I guess." Carmy responds, and then they just kind of.. look at eachother. Carmys not good with eye contact, but her eyes are warm. Easy to get lost in, comfort when you find them.

A honk snaps them both out of this daze, they both practically fly out of their skin. Retrieving their bags before stepping from the car. A very beat up subara sits behind his car, it's missing a headlight, and the plate is connected with zip ties.

He steals a quick glance before rounding the car, color draining as his eyes make contact with richie in the passengers seat. He moves back and slides into the back seat. "Shit. Carmen's with a girl?" spills with a verbal shit eating grin

"Hi Richie." Carmy responds, his words as monotone as his mind would let out. "This is Syd, partner project." He exclaims, and again, a hum of.. something pours from Richie.

"Where'd you needa go?" A much kinder voice pours out as they peel out of the parking lot. "That diner downtown? You know." Carmy says, kicking his feet against eachother. A murmur of understanding snakes its way to the back.

Carmy looks at Sydney. Again. Her fingers pattering against one another

It's silent, besides the soft crackle of Mikey's radio and a distorted audio of top 100 hits. It's just breathing, and shifting. No one really minds, it's an adjustment period. Carmy having a friend, seeing carmy with a friend, and being around carmy. It's new for everyone.

But if Sydney was being honest, it wasn't new for her. She'd been in his culinary class last year. They never got partnered together, but she'd be really happy when taste testing happened and she got to taste his food, she was let down when he didn't recognize her, but to his defense. She didn't talk much.. or ever.

It was just a harmless upper class men.. admiration.

A deep cough. "So.. What class is this for?" Mikey's voice perks up, Carmy looks up from his shoes. "Chemistry." He responds, his gaze shifting around subtly. "I took that Junior year.." Mikey says just loud enough for Carmy to hear, his voice a mix of confusion and a weird aha! moment. "Retaking it."

A word begins out of Mikeys mouth, suddenly stopping. His hand flying to Richie, turning back and slicing the air in a, 'not now.' way. As his hand retracts, a hum of acceptance is how he responds.

The rest of the car ride is blatantly silent, other than the few noises and a yelp when Sydney accidentally ripped out a hang nail

They finally stand infront of the diner, which is conveniently named.. Diner. They didn't get very creative.. Carmy exchanges a few words with the owner, an older woman with a light smile before he leads them to a booth in the corner.

They slide in on opposite sides, neither daring to pick up the menu. Their tried and trued orders sit in their heads. A younger gal nears their table, her hair in a ponytail with a few stragglers flying out of it. "What can I get for you two?" She asks, tapping her pen against the notepad in her hand.

They stay silent for a second before Carmy perks up and orders, Sydney following right behind him.

"Okay." They both say in sync, eyes widening with a light smile exchanged from both their lips.

Carmy pulls out his Chemistry notebook from his backpack, flipping it open and turning to show Syd. "I've only taken notes on flammability." He admits, giving her a smile that screams nervousness and embarrassment

She looks at his notes and back at him, a quick nod before she pulls out her notebook and flips to her page of notes.

It's a nice couple of minutes while they brainstorm, food placed infront of them, "can we take a break?" Carmy asks, washing down his food with a large sip of coffee that looks like it hurt.

"Yes." Sydney responds, her tone littered with relief.

"What are your plans for winter break?" Sydney adds on, her shoes kicking against the tile floor.

He shrugs. "Not a lot. We're all too old for christmas festivities. You?" He takes another bite.

"Me and my dad normally go to all the corny events." She smiles as she begins talking about her dad. "Tree lightings, pottery painting, parades." She explains.

Carmy purses his lips, wanting to ask about her mom. But that's not his place, so he just nods.

"If you'd wanna do something i'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if you tagged along." Sydney says. "It may be nice for me to, give him proof I have atleast one friend." She chuckles lightly.

"Oh—" Carmys taken aback, not in a bad way. He just hasn't been offered to 'tag along' in any way since he was a kid. Today is full of new feelings I guess. "I'll keep that in mind." He says, keeping himself as collected as he can, he thinks he's doing well. Sydney knows he's not.

She nods and decides to push them back into presentation talk, not sure if pushing harder would be good for him.

-

Carmy sighs and adjusts himself in such a way that screams 'This leather seat is against me in ways I will keep between me and the man above' a small grunt leaves him as he fixes his positioning

"How far do you live from here?" Sydney questions, plopping her pencil down.

Carmy looks at her in a way that screams 'I don't know my address! "12 minutes by the L to the nearest spot. 10 minute walk after that."

Without another word Sydney's hand flies up with the dad fake signing the check move.

He lifts his body up to begin to try to fish out his wallet.

"I got it." Sydney says, slamming her card down before his hand even entered his pocket. "We'll split." He says as he finally wrangles it out from his pocket.

Sydney doesn't even speak, just shakes her head.

Carmy holds his wallet between his hand, trying to settle his unease. He's uncomfortable. She hasn't done anything, but why is she being so.. so nice. "You drove." Carmy looks at her in a jokingly confused look. "You were gonna drive." She fixes her words.

Even if he did, gas wouldn't even have been a quarter of what this'll cost.

whatever. accept it carmen.

Soon the same straggly waitress scoots to their table, before she can even say a word Sydney's card is up in her hand with a smile.

The waitress is subtly taken aback, but gladly takes it and scampers off to run the card.

They wait silently, Sydney sits with a smile that Carmy is pretty sure she doesn't even know she has. Carmy sits looking down at his hands, toying with the edge of the wallet. Pulling it away before letting it slam back down.

The waitress is back, sliding both her card and their check on the table. Her smile fades as she looks down. Carmy quickly panics, pushing himself up to look at the total. Sydney lets out a subtle noise, a stifled chuckle.

"It's 20 bucks total Carmy." Sydney says as she picks it up and shows it to him. He plops back down and rolls his eyes with a fought back smile. She signs the check and slides her card back into her pocket before grabbing her bag and sliding out of the booth.

Carmy following seconds behind.

He begins out as he slings it over his shoulders, he offers the hostess a kind wave. 'Bye Carmen!' Leaves her lips as they leave. They stand outside in the cold for a second, side by side. Carmy zips up his jacket, as he lowers his hand back to his side, it brushes against Syd's. Neither of them adjust themselves.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Published: Oct 14, 2023

I was raised to curse Israel and pray for the destruction of Jews, writes AYAAN HIRSI ALI... That's why I know all too well Hamas is another ISIS - whatever useful idiots in the West say

All across the West, there is no shortage of people blaming the horrors in Israel on Israel itself — and openly supporting the perpetrators.

The head of policy at the Community Security Trust, which monitors hate crimes committed against British Jews, has said: 'Anti-Semites are getting excited by the sight of dead Jews... Hamas murdering Israeli civilians has exhilarated them... We've had reports of people driving past synagogues shouting 'Kill the Jews'.'

Anti-Semitic incidents in Britain are currently three times higher than they were this time last year, the charity adds.

'Free Palestine' graffiti has been scrawled on a railway bridge in Golders Green, a Jewish area of north London, while in Oxford Street, one young woman — who may well have been radicalised in England — was filmed ripping down posters that pleaded for the safe return of the babies taken hostage by Hamas. 'Free Palestine, f*** you!' she screamed at an onlooker who dared to remonstrate with her.

On Thursday night in Paris, police used tear gas and water cannon to disperse hundreds of people at a pro-Palestine rally, in which protesters chanted 'Israel murderer [sic]' and 'End the siege of Gaza.'

Outside the Sydney Opera House, about 1,000 protesters lit flares and waved Palestinian flags — and some were filmed chanting: 'Gas the Jews.'

In the U.S., meanwhile, 31 student groups at Harvard signed an open letter claiming that the 'Israeli regime' was 'entirely responsible for all unfolding violence', while California's Stanford University displayed a banner declaring that Palestine would be made free 'by any means necessary' — a sinister slogan that tacitly justifies Hamas's slaughter of children in pursuit of its aims.

Not to be outdone, the Chicago 'chapter' of the Black Lives Matter movement posted an image of a paraglider alongside the slogan 'I stand with Palestine'. The reference, of course, was to Hamas paragliders who descended on Israel's Supernova music festival last Saturday to rape and butcher at least 260 young people.

In short, anti-Semites the world over have been emboldened by this crisis, and Jews are once again being blamed for their own massacre. And I am not remotely surprised. In my childhood, I was steeped in the Islamist movement's noxious anti-Semitism — which has been on such ugly display this week.

Born in Mogadishu, Somalia, I spent my early years escaping political strife after my father was imprisoned for being an anti-government activist. We moved between countries before settling in Kenya.

The worst insult in the Somali community was to be called a 'Jew', not that any of us actually knew one. To be called a 'Jew' was so abhorrent, some felt justified in killing anyone who so dishonoured them with this 'slur'.

As a teenager in Nairobi in the 1980s, I joined the Muslim Brotherhood — the strict Sunni Islamist movement, founded in Egypt in 1928, from which Hamas ultimately descends.

I vividly remember sitting with my female fellows in mosques, cursing Israel and praying to Allah to destroy the Jews. We were certainly not interested in a peaceful 'two-state solution': we were taught to want to see Israel wiped off the map.

When I was 16, my school's teacher of religion was Sister Aziza. She read to us the Koran's lurid descriptions of the everlasting fire that burns flesh and dissolves skin — the place reserved for Jews.

Sister Aziza described Jews as physically monstrous, with horns coming from their heads, out of which flew devils that would corrupt the world. Jews controlled everything, she told us, and it was the duty of Muslims to destroy them.

It was a lot to take in for a teenager who read Western romance novels in secret, but I believed every word.

When the fatwa was issued against the British writer Salman Rushdie in 1989, a small crowd gathered in a Nairobi car park to burn a copy of his novel The Satanic Verses.

Sister Aziza urged us to join in the condemnations of Rushdie and I am ashamed to say I took part in the book-burning. I was certain Rushdie should be killed, but the scene nevertheless made me uncomfortable.

That seed of doubt grew over the next few years as I questioned why, if Allah was so just, women were treated as mere chattels in some Muslim families.

Over time, my questions turned into open rebellion against the Muslim Brotherhood, Islam and, ultimately, my family. 

My father sent me to relatives in Germany in 1992 so I could go from there to Canada to join the distant cousin he had married me off to. I ran away from that marriage and travelled to the Netherlands where I sought asylum.

Eventually, I became a member of the Dutch parliament, and later settled in America.

I abandoned my religion, but I have never lost my clear-sighted understanding, forged in my childhood, of Islamism's pathological hatred of Jews, as well as Muslims considered as heretics and non-Muslims in general.

The former Egyptian president Mohamed Morsi — a one-time leader of the Muslim Brotherhood — declared that Muslims should 'nurse our children and our grandchildren on hatred' of Jews. His organisation has done just that — and the despicable sentiment is the underlying context to Hamas's most recent attacks.

The truth, however, is that Hamas is no more a friend of the Palestinians than it is a friend of Israel.

Those who see the conflict as a simple territorial dispute between a colonial state and a dispossessed minority fail to recognise Hamas for what it really is: a gang of genocidal Islamist thugs backed by a theocratic, anti-Semitic regime in Iran.

Useful idiots on the far-Left in Western countries, who blindly support Hamas because they see it as a freedom-fighting group, harm the very people they claim to defend.

They say they want peace —and perhaps many of them do. But real peace talks based on the 2020 Abraham Accords between Israel and Arab countries have made painstaking but undeniable progress despite the efforts of Hamas.

Until Hamas's recent attacks, Saudi Arabia and Israel had looked set to normalise relations. This murderous incursion was an attempt to derail such talks — and thus ruin any chance of lasting peace.

Ordinary Palestinians want to build a prosperous, functioning society. Hamas, in its obsession with annihilating Israel, doesn't care about that. It wishes only to bring about a genocidal Islamist dystopia.

It is Hamas, after all, that holds Palestinians hostage in Gaza, setting up military installations in — and launching rockets from — civilian areas in the full knowledge that counterstrikes will kill innocent people.

It is Hamas that impoverishes Palestinians by stealing humanitarian aid to fund its terror. This is what 'by any means necessary' truly signifies: supreme callousness towards Palestinian life.

If you genuinely want to see peace between Israelis and Palestinians, or more generally between Muslims and Jews in the Middle East, then Hamas should be your enemy.

And even if — like many in the West, as we can now see — you don't care at all about Israeli or Jewish lives, even if you care only about the lives of Palestinians, Hamas is still your enemy. After all, Hamas ruthlessly persecutes any Palestinians who disagree with it: a 2022 U.S. State Department report found that, among other abuses, Hamas detained and assaulted critical journalists.

It is especially hostile to public figures associated with its rival Fatah, the Palestinian party voted out of office in Gaza in 2006, but which still runs the West Bank.

Hamas harasses its own dissidents, and has invaded the home of at least one young critical activist, telling his parents to keep their son under control — or else.

As a Dutch MP in 2004 and 2005, I travelled to the West Bank and met Palestinians.

In public, they spouted all the usual lines about Israel being their 'oppressor'. But once the cameras were switched off, they spoke more truthfully.

They complained bitterly about their treatment by Hamas and other radical groups, and told me how money meant to feed the people was being taken to fund those organisations' activities and their leaders' luxurious lifestyles. Arabs and Palestinians alike told me how fed up they were with conflict, and how ready they were for peace.

Hamas, like other Islamist groups, has done its best over the course of decades to stomp all over those wishes.

And it has been successful. The shocking rise in anti-Semitism in the West owes much to the entrenched Islamist networks that have spent years stirring up this ancient hatred.

Europe must now wake up to these fifth columnists who shamelessly celebrate violence and bigotry, promoting hatred of the Jewish minority in Europe.

The West must also wake up to the moral corruption of its own Hamas supporters, from Left-wing university students to flag-waving street thugs.

Meanwhile, elite human-rights organisations need to do far more to name terrorism when they see it.

It is horrifying to see Amnesty International claiming that one of the 'root causes' of the crisis is 'Israel's system of apartheid imposed on Palestinians'.

Human Rights Watch, meanwhile, should do more than merely equivocating in its insistence that no injustice can justify another.

This is not to argue that Israel should be immune from criticism. My point is that much of the criticism is at best misguided and at worst thinly veiled anti-Semitism.

Hamas, like Lebanon's Hezbollah, Isis in Syria and Iraq, Nigeria's Boko Haram, Somalia's Al-Shabaab and several other groups, are fighting not for the liberty and prosperity of Muslims but, ultimately, for the annihilation of Israel and the imposition of an Islamic state.

If Palestinians and other Muslims have to suffer for that aim, then so be it.

Well-meaning celebrities and broadcasters who, out of wilful ignorance and good intentions, hesitate to condemn Hamas as terrorists need to recognise this truth.

These are dark times for Israel and for the world, but there are some reasons to be hopeful.

This week's strong statement by America, Britain, France, Italy and Germany condemning Hamas while recognising the 'legitimate aspirations' of the Palestinians is a good sign.

Labour leader Sir Keir Starmer's condemnation of Hamas is particularly welcome, given that, until recently, his party was led by a man who called these butchers his 'friends'.

And if Israel and the Arab states do not allow their worst instincts to rule them, talks may continue — and might just secure peace in the longer term.

Hamas is another Isis. They are the enemies of Israel; they are the enemies of all Jews; they are the enemies of Palestinians; they are the enemies of peace and freedom. They are the enemies of Western civilisation itself.

It is about time they were recognised as such.

To achieve a two-state solution — with free and prosperous Palestinians and a safe Israel — the first, fundamental step is for people to stop chanting slogans in support of terrorists and murderers, and for everyone to cry in unison: 'Down with Hamas!'

==

Remember two years ago when everyone was arguing about whether the terrorist assault and takeover of Afghanistan by the Taliban was Trump's fault or Biden's fault? Today, people are scolding us not to call the same thing terrorism. It's "liberation" and "decolonization."

Remember in 2014 when Boko Haram kidnapped the children and everyone was campaigning for their safe return because it was an unconscionable act of terrorism? Now kidnapping and murdering children is an act of legitimate revolution.

Remember when kids rushed to support ISIS the instant they rose, and people were appalled and argued over how could it could be possible to support a terrorist state that seized illegitimate power? Online radicalization was blamed, and many didn't want to believe that indoctrination had primed it well in advance. Now, if your Gender and Postcolonial Studies haven't activated you to support a terrorist state that has seized illegitimate power in the region, you're a bigot.

Remember when we cheered on the Iranians for finally fighting back against the regime of terror that hung over them, hoping for them to finally win the war against the regime? Now, Israel has to simply take whatever assaults of terrorism are dealt at them; it is, as Douglas Murray said, is the only country which is not allowed to win a war.

Remember when certain people liked to call everyone who disagreed with them "Nazis" and that punching them was the right thing to do? Now the extermination of all the Jews is the "Be Kind" position.

How morally confused do you have to be, after all this, to side with the terrorists?

Hamas is to Palestine as ISIS is to Syria and the Taliban is to Afghanistan.

As I've posted about before, Islam is a supremacist ideology. Its goal is world domination. They tell us that. Loudly.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-52/Hadith-196

Narrated Abu Huraira: Allah 's Apostle said, "I have been ordered to fight with the people till they say, 'None has the right to be worshipped but Allah,' and whoever says, 'None has the right to be worshipped but Allah,' his life and property will be saved by me except for Islamic law, and his accounts will be with Allah, (either to punish him or to forgive him.)"

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-1/Book-8/Hadith-387

Narrated Anas bin Malik: Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "I have been ordered to fight the people till they say: 'None has the right to be worshipped but Allah.' And if they say so, pray like our prayers, face our Qibla and slaughter as we slaughter, then their blood and property will be sacred to us and we will not interfere with them except legally and their reckoning will be with Allah."

Narrated Maimun bin Siyah that he asked Anas bin Malik, "O Abu Hamza! What makes the life and property of a person sacred?" He replied, "Whoever says, 'None has the right to be worshipped but Allah', faces our Qibla during the prayers, prays like us and eats our slaughtered animal, then he is a Muslim, and has got the same rights and obligations as other Muslims have."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-41/Hadith-6985

Abu Huraira reported Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) as saying: The last hour would not come unless the Muslims will fight against the Jews and the Muslims would kill them until the Jews would hide themselves behind a stone or a tree and a stone or a tree would say: Muslim, or the servant of Allah, there is a Jew behind me; come and kill him; but the tree Gharqad would not say, for it is the tree of the Jews.

It has successfully weaponized intersectional shibboleths to trick useful idiots into thinking that the supremacist is the oppressed victim.

[fatihulusoy]

Greetings yet again folks! Before today's news i should ask this: what would you think when wearable tech is mentioned? AR/VR glasses? A smart watch? a pair of fancy glasses? nfc based products or was it something else for you?

what if i tell you there is a battery that is so stretchable and bendable that can be tailored between linings of your clothes now what would you think?

Meet the age of stretchable batteries people!

in that case i should mention when people of today was so busy with nonsense politics and rightist or leftist ideas there were quite a race between the biggest tech schools and companies for manufacturing this tech such as apple, samsung, stanford, Yokohama National University, zotach (japan based wearable tech company), sydney's UNCW, Australian research comity and more.. you get the idea..

so what is this tech in its core?

basically building more softer and more long term reliable materials to replace our common daily use batteries

in term of materials it nearly uses our common li-on batteries but these are mainly works like electrodes and often use polymers, hydrogels, and other flexible materials for electrodes and electrolytes. we can see in recent inovations include the use of stretchable conductors like gold nanowires or carbon nanotubes.

BUT what these mambo, jambo, wombo, combo means for public eye?

much longer active use time, higher adaptability, flexible form factor yet lower energy and power density.

for now this tech has been used in certain medical implant cases, wearable techs, tv's, and watches for now but there is some attempts to imply this in to textile industry recently..

and japan is seems like ahead of the race for now with Zotac’s VR GO 4.0 backpack

this is a backpack pc and its power source is tailored between in entire foam/ fiber pad. this "pc" is specifically made for VR/AR and streaming which includes

11th Gen Intel Core Mobile i7-11800H processor, an NVIDIA RTX A4500 graphics card with 20GB of GDDR6 memory and 7,168 CUDA cores, 16GB (32GB maximum) of DDR4 RAM, an M.2 slot for storage, a 2.5′ SATA 3 hard drive/SSD bay for storage, three USB 3.1 Type-A ports, a single USB 3.1 type-C port, DisplayPort, and a 12V DC outlet, all powered by dual 86.4 watt-hour hot-swappable batteries.

like i said this tech is still under developement stage and people still trying to make this tech better than other compettitives...

time will show us what will it gonna be turn out at the end..

lastly.. see you guys tomorrow...

sources:

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/adma.202204457

[jjsmaybank20]

could I pls request sidney Prescott x fem!reader in scream 4 and 19 year old friend of jill? Need her so bad bro 😩

Best Friend's Hot Cousin

Sydney Prescott x Fem!Reed!Reader

Summary: Who knew your best friend's cousin was so hot? Plus, Ghostface is back.

Warnings: R gets stabbed, my terrible writing

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry, it's not my best work! Sorry it took so long, I kind of rushed it at the end there.

navigation  scream masterlist

---

Your sister was driving you and your other friends to school, so she had woken you up early by throwing a pillow at your face. As you grumble that you’re up, she smacks you again, causing you to leap up, grab her waist, and throw her on your bed.

“I said I was up, Kirb. Chill the fuck out.” Kirby scoffs, grabbing her keys as she moves to head downstairs. You follow after your little sister, hopping in the backseat. You guys take off down the street, accidentally speeding past Sheriff Dewey Riley.

Kirby curses to herself while you yell, “Sorry, Sheriff!” out the window. You reach your destination with no other incidents, and Kirby honks the car horn to get your friends, Jill and Olivia, outside and into the car. Jill comes outside quickly, hopping in. 

Right away, Kirby begins defending herself. “Okay, so, don’t get upset. Trevor called me last night.” Jill groans, and you laugh. “That fucker is really desperate. J, you dated a clingy bitch.” Jill ignores you, opting to question Kirby more.

“Why’d he call you?” Kirby shrugs, replying, “He knows I have your ear.” She then looks across the street, muttering, “Where’s Olivia?” When she honks a second time, Olivia finally jogs to the car. She joins in on the conversation, but you just space out until Jill’s phone begins to ring.

She picks up, confused as to why this person was calling her, and is only on the phone for a few seconds. When she hangs up, she announces that it was a prank call. You go back to spacing out until you arrive at school. You go through the day in a haze, until you and everyone else in your class gets a notification. 

Glancing down at it, you see the announcement that two of your classmates had been murdered. You quickly escape class, finding your sister and her friends. While talking to them, you find out that the prank call that Jill received this morning had been from one of the dead girls' phones. As you were talking, she received another call.

As she was on the phone, her face visibly paled and she started talking more hurriedly. Kirby snatched the phone from her and put it on speaker, wanting to hear what the caller was saying. They just catch the end of what the distorted voice is saying. “I pick you. Don’t disappoint me.” 

You and your friends sit in silence for a second before you pull your phone out of your back pocket. “I’m calling Dewey.” Jill and Kirby nod, the former still in shock at the phone call she had just received. 

---

You sit in the interrogation room with Kirby, Jill, and Olivia. Dewey enters the room, quickly followed by Jill’s mom and the prettiest woman you have ever seen in your life. Your jaw drops, and you can’t stop yourself before you mutter, “Holy shit.”

Apparently you weren’t as quiet as you thought, because the woman’s face turns a light pink and your sister lets out a snort. Your face turns bright red, and you put your head in your hands in embarrassment.

Jill tries to move past your embarrassment, turning to the woman and exclaiming, “Sydney! How are you?” Your face becomes even more red when you realize that this is your best friend’s cousin. The one who was coming to stay with her for a bit. Of course the super hot lady had to be your best friend’s cousin. 

Sydney rushes to Jill's side and grabs her hand. She seems oddly composed, and she replies, “Under the circumstances, not spectacular. But you’re safe. Dewey is going to do all he can to keep you and your friends safe.” 

Jill glances over at you and Kirby. “Kirby and Y/N’s parents are out of town. Can they stay with us, mom?” Ms. Roberts nods, and you grin at your sister. You always enjoyed staying over at Jill’s house, and now it was going to be even more awesome with your new sudden crush under the same roof.

---

When you arrive at the Roberts household, you quickly call dibs on the open guest room. Kirby groans, knowing that she was going to have to share a room with someone now, but she lets you have it. Jill comes to her rescue by offering her a spot in her room, leaving both you and Kirby happy.

As you unpack your things, you hear someone coming into the room behind you. You assume it’s Ms. Roberts, so you say, “Do you need something, Ms. R?” When you turn around, you come face to face with Sydney. 

“Oh! It’s you. Did you, um… did you need something?” Instead of answering you, Sydney moves forward and sits on the guest room bed. You try to keep the pink creeping up your face down, but it clearly doesn’t work as Sydney lets out a giggle.

She stares at you for a second, watching you unpack and unfold your athletic uniform. “How old are you, Y/N?” Without looking up from your suitcase, you reply, “I’m nineteen.” You don’t think to ask why she wants to know, and you ignore the hope that it’s because she may be interested in you. 

“How come you’re in high school with Jill?” You can hear the genuine curiosity in her tone, making you want to answer any questions she may have for you. “I was held back a year. No big deal.” You see Sydney nod out of the corner of your eye, before seemingly getting lost in her own thoughts. 

“You alright over there?” You inquire. She quickly nods, snapped back to reality. Almost as quickly as she entered the room, she exits with a hasty goodbye thrown over her shoulder. 

---

Throughout the course of a couple days, you got to know Sydney better. You became more and more comfortable around her, and your crush on her grew and grew. One night, the two of you were chatting and she was getting closer and closer to you. You were fully ready to kiss her when you heard a terrified scream from upstairs.

You and Sydney share a look before you vault over the back of the couch and run upstairs. When you burst into Jill’s room, you see Kirby and Jill staring in horror across the street. You can see someone in a Ghostface mask in Olivia’s room, making your blood run ice cold. 

You sprint back downstairs and throw open the front door before running next door. Sydney follows behind you, calling out to you, but you ignore her. You run upstairs in Olivia’s house, throwing her door open. Instead of finding Ghostface, you are met with a horror scene. 

You quickly exit the room, your stomach churning at the memory of the sight of your murdered friend. As you stumble to the stairs, you hear footsteps behind you. You whip around, but it’s too late to defend yourself as Ghostface swings his knife at you. 

He catches your arm, and you stumble backwards, falling down the stairs. You look up, seeing Sydney standing there with a knife, ready to defend you. When you look towards the top of the stairs, Ghostface is gone.

You can hear police sirens approaching, which makes you sigh in relief. Sydney helps you up and leads you out the door and towards one of the ambulances that had just arrived. 

She stands by you anxiously as you get patched up, hoping that you would be alright. As soon as the EMT is done, she shoves your shoulder and exclaims, “What the hell were you thinking? Running towards Ghostface empty handed?” 

You wince and sigh. ���I don’t know, okay?! I just wanted to protect my friend. Is that a crime-” You are cut off by soft lips pressing against your own. You are caught off guard, but you quickly melt into it. When Sydney pulls back, you smile. 

She keeps her forehead resting against yours as she says, “Next time, we do it together. Okay?” You nod before kissing her again. 

Together. That sounds good.

---

@alotofpockets

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[theic-manic]

Me yesterday: *Thanks Hermes for signs and synchronicties etc. Like I do daily*

I stop walking immediately upon seeing a freaking white carriage with white horses driving through the main road of a Sydney city.

It looked like it had come from a wedding and I'm like "okay weird."

Later last night, I messaged a guy from high school that I had recently added on social media, we had some very good history about 10 years ago...

Anyway it turns out that I always made him feel safe to be vulnerable, supported and generally cared for and it turns out our amazing chemistry has drastically improved so thank you my deities for giving some damn good during this absolutely brutally intense month of spiritual growth and development.

[bobfloydsbabe]

LINGER | rhett abbott x oc | chapter 1

one: hey cowboy

SUMMARY: Rhett Abbott is stuck. He rides bulls, works on his family’s ranch, and probably drinks more than what’s good for him. 

Lou Kinney is aimless. She never stays in one place for long, driving from state to state, and picking up odd jobs along the way.

So when she shows up in Wabang, Rhett’s life tumbles into free fall and Lou’s not sure she trusts herself to catch him. But maybe these two lost souls find exactly what they didn’t know they were looking for: each other.

masterlist | next chapter

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, horses/ranching/bull riding inaccuracies, i don't understand american culture but i try.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

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He’s sitting in his truck in the parking lot of the general store the first time he sees her.

She’s wearing jeans, sensible boots, and a denim jacket. Her dark hair is in a soft braid that rests against her back. He watches her open the door to the cab of her truck. She whistles once and a black and white dog effortlessly jumps in, crawling across the bench seat and lies down.

Rhett doesn’t recognize her, figures she’s passing through town like so many before her. No one stays in Wabang unless they were born here, and this girl definitely wasn’t.

So, safe to say, Rhett’s a little surprised when he sees her nursing a beer at the Handsome Gambler later in the week. Even more so when he stops by the diner for coffee and lunch a week after that, and sees her laughing with Patty, who owns the place.

She offers him a small acknowledging nod when she passes him on her way out, her dog trailing behind her happily. Patty rarely allows dogs in her diner.

A month passes before he learns her name. He’s walking into the feed store when he hears Old Man Arthur call her Louisa. She corrects him and says it’s Lou.

She’s walking away, her dog once again following closely behind, when Rhett comes up to the counter to pick up their order.

Lou suits her, he decides.

A few days later, Amy comes skipping into the house, waving a piece of paper in the air with a bright smile on her face. Her friend from school is having a birthday party at Oak Creek Ranch, and Amy’s one of the select few invited.

Oak Creek went up for sale when Rhett was seventeen, and the Taylors bought it about a year later. A local family who traded their jobs as a nurse and a veterinarian for ranch living. They opened an equine sanctuary and rehabilitation center that’s become popular with people from across the state.

He didn’t know you could host a kid’s birthday party there, but as his truck winds down the dirt path to the Oak Creek driveway, he sees a banner announcing Sydney’s 9th birthday.

He’s late to pick Amy up. Perry was supposed to, but he was too drunk to drive. Rhett tries not to be mad at his brother, but it’s hard not to be when he’s neglecting his daughter.

He passes endless pastures and folds with grazing horses. A large barn comes into view, along with an even larger stable building. He knew the Taylors had renovated the place when they bought it, but it’s nearly unrecognizable to him now. He remembers having his first beer on the front steps of the then abandoned house when he was fourteen.

Seems like a lifetime ago now.

He pulls up next to a line of trucks in various stages of disrepair, but most pickups look worse for wear around here. Rhett looks at the house and spots Mrs. Taylor through a window. He can’t remember her name, but he knows she has two boys who are a few years older than Amy.

He lifts a couple of fingers in an acknowledging gesture, and even though the sun is high in the sky, he sees her smile as she waves back. The Taylors are good people.

He looks around, and a few feet away, at the end of a downtrodden path, is a metal round pen where he spots the back of his niece’s head.

Rhett gets out of his truck and makes the short trek down to where Amy stands on the fence to see over it. As he gets closer, he sees Louisa stand on the inside of the pen, her back turned to a black horse trotting wildly behind her.

She doesn’t flinch when it whinnies. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, coming up next to his niece to watch the scene before him.

“Uncle Rhett,” she exclaims, giving him a hug as best as she can without falling off the fence. “Look!”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips at her enthusiasm before he turns his attention back to Louisa, and the horse that has now slowed down to a walk. Rhett sees the fear in its dark eyes, but there’s a level of curiosity, too.

Louisa still doesn’t move, but casts her eyes upward, meeting his for a brief second. She smiles at him, and his insides feel funny.

The horse takes tentative steps towards Louisa, and all the muscles in Rhett’s body tense, ready to step in if something should happen.

But nothing does. The horse walks towards the center of the pen, and finally, after what feels like minutes but was probably only a few seconds, it stands at Louisa’s side and nudges her arm with its muzzle.

Amy cheers quietly as to not disturb the moment in front of them.

A grin splits Louisa’s face in two, and Rhett watches her dig into her pocket for a treat that she offers to the horse. The wind carries the sound of her soft praises as the horse chews the treat and lets Lou run her hands over its muscular body.

“That was incredible, Miss Kinney,” Amy says as the woman approaches the fence, horse trailing calmly behind her.

“Lou,” she corrects. “Storm’s a good boy,” she replies, casting a look at the black stallion behind her. “He just needs someone to give him a chance to be good.”

“Sorry, I’m late,” Rhett says before Amy can say something else.

“It’s no problem,” she says, and he can tell she genuinely means it. “Sydney only got picked up five minutes before you got here.”

“Thank you,” he saying, nodding at her slightly before turning his attention to his niece. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Amy agrees and jumps off the fence, landing on the ground with a thud. Rhett offers a small wave goodbye to Lou, who’s watching him and Amy as they walk back to his truck.

“Bye, miss Kinney!” Amy shouts and waves at the woman who offers an enthusiastic wave back. Amy closes the truck door, and the world goes quiet.

He waits for her to put her seatbelt on and then makes his way back down the drive, the same way he came. “Did you have a nice time?”

“The best,” she says excitedly, launching into a long talk about everything that happened at the birthday party. She briefly mentions her other friends, the cake, and the presents, but most of her endless chatter is about Lou.

“That thing she did when you got there is called join up, and it’s so cool. She just turned around a let Storm do whatever he wanted until he trusted her enough to come. It was awesome!”

He chuckles as he opens the front door to the house, letting Amy duck under his arm to go inside first.

His Ma’s in the kitchen, placing plates on the dining table, but it’s only set for four. Perry is probably sleeping off his bender upstairs, the whole room reeking of alcohol and sweat.

Rhett frowns at the thought and tries to push the brewing rage down. He’s not above day drinking, has done it many times, but he would never do it over taking care of his kid.

It’s a realization that has crept up on him in the months since Rebecca disappeared and Perry changed into someone barely recognizable. He’s putting his misery above his daughter and there’s no one Rhett wants to protect more than his niece.

He kisses his mom’s cheek in greeting and goes upstairs to clean up before dinner, the sound of Amy talking about Lou fading with each step he takes. There’s something about her innocence that tugs at Rhett’s heart and makes the faintest smile spread across his face.

A couple of days later, Rhett rests his head against the rim of his beer bottle, trying not to move his bad shoulder too much. It’s been bothering him for a while, but the bull got the better of him tonight and he took a bad fall. 

The slide of glass along the bar top makes him lift his head. In front of him is a shot of tequila that he downs with a nod towards Jimmy, who’s been a bartender at the Handsome Gambler since before he was born.

Homegrown cowboy almost lost the rodeo tonight. He’s lucky he didn’t.

“It’s Rhett, right?” A soft voice says as a warm body sinks down on the seat next to him.

He hums in agreement, turning his head slightly to face her. He recognizes her voice immediately. It’s been ringing in his ears since he first heard it a few days earlier.

“Amy hasn’t shut up about you since her visit,” he says. It sounds harsh even to his own ears, and he could probably have found a better way to say it, but she seems unfazed.

He wants to ask her name, even though he already knows it. Just to hear her say it.

She smiles, and he could be imagining it, but it looks like her cheeks flush pink. The odd lighting in the bar makes it hard to tell.

She looks down at her hands, then meets his gaze. “She’s interested in the work,” she says finally. “I’m sure she’d talk about anyone who did it.”

Rhett’s not so sure, and he almost says as much.

She orders a beer and wraps her small hands around the glass, immediately picking at the label with her long fingers.

Rhett doesn’t know what to say as the silence stretches between them. There’s a million questions he wants to ask, but all he does is watch, and by the time he’s built up the courage to say something, Lou beats him to it.

“Heard you had a good ride tonight.”

A snort escapes him. “You heard wrong,” he says, sipping from his bottle. He grimaces as the stale beer hits his tongue.

“But you’re moving up, right?”

He tilts his head at her, looking at the paper graveyard surrounding the beer bottle still in her grasp. “Yeah.”

“Then it’s a good ride,” she decides and raises the bottle to her lips, taking a long sip. His eyes trace the lines of her throat. He likes the way her hair graces her shoulders, and he wonders if it feels as soft as it looks.

“You think so?”

She nods, brushing hair behind her ears. “I know so.”

He’d forgotten all about his sore shoulder until he shrugs and a jab of pain courses through it. He half-heartedly suppresses a groan at the strain, but the woman beside him catches it.

“You should take it easy,” she says, eyes flicking from his face to the hand he’s placed on his shoulder as if that would soothe the ache. “Joe said you took a tumble.”

He supposes tumble is one way to describe being thrown off a bucking bull after barely lasting eight seconds.

His brows knit together. “Joe?” There are about seventeen people named Joe in this godforsaken town.

“Taylor,” she clarifies.

“Your boss.”

“My boss,” she agrees. 

Silence falls between them again, but Rhett feels less awkward this time. He drums his fingers on the wooden counter and watches Lou sneak a glance down the line of the bar, only to wipe the tattered scraps of the paper label onto the floor.

He raises a brow at her.

She puts a finger against her lips to shush him as Jimmy comes back down towards them.

“Can I close out my tab?”

Rhett tips his hat down a little to hide the grin he’s sporting, but his success seems doubtful as his body shakes with a quiet chuckle.

He feels, rather than sees, Lou jump off the barstool next to him. Her hand skims along his back as she passes, a touch so light he can’t tell if it was on purpose or not.

A shiver runs down his spine as her touch leaves him. He waits until she’s gone and the door clicks shut to push his hat back up and ask Jimmy to close out his own tab.

He’s going to call it a night. Sitting alone at the bar doesn’t seem as appealing as his bed right now, but he doesn’t understand why.

After a ride, he would normally go looking for some woman to screw hard and fast, just to let off some steam, but not tonight. Tonight he’s just tired and sore and his ego is a little bruised because some new kid placed ahead of him.

He steps outside the bar and feels the cold Wyoming air hit his face.

“You come here often?”

Rhett jumps a good few feet in the air as the sound of laughter fills the quiet outside the bar. His heart races furiously in his chest, watching as Lou clutches her stomach, wheezing for air.

“Scaredy-cat,” she comments through uneven breaths as she regains her composure.

He looks over his shoulder, contemplating going back inside for another drink, just to settle the nerves Lou sparked to life. He can still hear the rushing of his pulse in his ears.

When he looks back at her, she’s already walking across the street to a faded yellow truck that has definitely seen better days. His feet carry him towards her before his head can register the decision to do so.

She reaches out to open her the driver’s side door, but Rhett’s arms are longer, so he yanks it open before she can. She startles, spinning around to face him.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me!”

He pulls open the truck door more with a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“Not so funny when it’s you, huh?”

She huffs out a laugh as the tension leaves her shoulders and she hangs her head for a moment, letting it rest on his chest. When she lifts it again, he catches a whiff of her shampoo. She smells like summer.

She meets his eye, mischief and laughter radiating off her. There’s freedom in her eyes, making something in his stomach twist.

She climbs into the cab of her truck and lets Rhett close the door for her. She keeps her eyes on him as he takes a few steps back and the engine stirs to life at the turn of her key.

“Say hello to Amy for me,” she instructs him, and throws the old rust bucket in drive.

He watches her truck disappear down the main road until the taillights are no longer visible.

He can’t read her, not that it’s his strongest suit to begin with, but for someone who keeps to herself, she seems to be making an impression on the residents of Wabang.

He shakes his head, trying to will the hot feeling in chest to go away. As he reaches his own truck, he wants to blame the alcohol, but some part of him knows that’s far from the truth.

A/N: I can't believe it's finally here. I've been so excited to share this story with you, but I'm also nervous because this is so different for me, both in terms of style and tone. Comments and reblogs make the world go around. I hope you enjoy! (does this mean I have to watch the show now???)

TAGLIST: @wkndwlff, @joaquinwhorres, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @chickensarentcheap, @bradshawsbitch, @dhwanishah09, @lt-bradshaw, @phoenixhalliwell, @chicomonks, @cherrycola27, @mikaymeee, @callsign-cacti, @laracrofted, @thedroneranger, @yanna-banana, @rhettabbotts

[ellisdrivings]

https://ellisdrivingschool.com.au/

https://ellisdrivingschool.com.au/

Welcome to Ellis Driving School Sydney

At Ellis Driving School, we specialize in Heavy Vehicle Training and have been a family-owned business for over 25 years. Our truck driving school has assisted numerous individuals from various backgrounds and ages in obtaining their heavy vehicle licenses, such as LR, MR, MC, HR, and HC licenses. We are dedicated to providing serious and professional training in truck and bus driving. Our services extend to clients from NSW, including Sydney, Wollongong, Mittagong, Gosford, Penrith, Bankstown, and Newcastle.

Fleet of Reliable Automatic Trucks

We offer a range of easy-to-drive automatic trucks in our fleet, including Iveco and Scania models. Our vehicles are dependable and safe for driving lessons. For personalized assistance, feel free to call us at 0410 806 777 to discuss your specific needs.

Unique and Simplified Driving Tuition

Paul Khun, the head of Ellis Driving School, is renowned for his exceptional and unique teaching style. His reputation draws students from hundreds of kilometers away for truck driving lessons.

Ellis Driving School provides comprehensive training for all types of truck driver licenses and bus licenses. Contact us at 0410 806 777 or complete the enquiry form on our Contact Us page to schedule your next lesson.

[safedrivingschoolaus]

Automatic Driving School Blacktown

Safe driving school is one of the best driving school in Sydney which provides automatic and manual driving lessons in Parramatta, Blacktown, Silver water, Castle Hill and Sydney areas. we want to more info please visit our site or info@safedrivingschool.com.au , 0404052557. - https://www.safedrivingschool.com.au/

[pbandjesse]

We are in Uganda! My body is a little confused sleepiness wise, but I am in a great mood. I think for this week I'm just going to write when I have downtime throughout the day, and post before bed. But that way I'm not forgetting anything and also not having to sit and write for an hour when I'm presumably tired from all the activities.

And while there are lots of things, we have been told that this is a place where things move slower, and to expect that. Which is fine with me, I have no real plan or schedule. I just want to have some experiences. Whatever that means.

I was able to get some sleep last night on the plane but after I did my post on our layover on Rwanda I was mostly awake. Our party was playing a card game during the layover and being a little loud and the woman in front of me and James was so mad about it. Like we get it, were all tired, but this is the last stretch and we will need to wake up a bit.

It's a little funny though that it's just so clear how American we are. I was worried about being to much but everyone in this group is so loud and boisterous and happy. Once we finally touched down in Uganda everyone was clapping and cheering and we got some looks. But we were just so happy to be off the plane.

My first impression of Uganda was humid but sweet smelling. It was a cool humid. Like I was still hot but it was with an undercurrent of coolness.

We got all gathered before we headed to immigration. It was very warm in that room but I was in a good mood. I was gross and very very ready to get to our room and get a shower. But that would come in time. First we had to get our visas approved.

The man who did mine was very nice. I was not prepared to have my picture taken but I didnt look to crazy. I was surprised that it is a whole sticker with my face on it inside my passport. But still very neat.

Once I was through I went to collect me and James's suitcases. Which thankfully made it without damage. They were slightly wet from the rain but I was just glad they were here safe. Everyone else would slowly trickle in and get their luggage. And they were all loud and excited. Clapping for us as we started coming through. The staff seemed a little shocked. Probably a combination of how early it was but also just being Americans. I texted Jess that everyone knew we were Americans and she said "the horror" which like. Yes. Embarrassing. Being known!

We would all have to get together to get on the little bus that Paul and Sam had coordinated. We got to meet Sam's uncle Joe who seems super nice. Everyone so far we have met has lovely smiles. I just want to make friends with everyone.

When we got outside my first big impression was that it is humid and smells nice. It was 430 am and I was having fun talking to Paula's sister Sydney about how me and James were able to bring so little bags. Everyone else has huge huge suitcases. I am always proud of how little I pack. It's a point of pride. Though now that we are in the country I do wish I had some different shoes. But shoes are always a struggle for me in travel. But everything else is perfect. And it was fun to discuss.

Getting all 19 of us on this little bus with the suitcases though just straight up wasn't going to happen. So uncle Joe would take all the carry ons and the big luggage would travel on the bus and we were able to squeeze everyone on. And we began the 40 minute drive to the resort.

We got to see interesting things right away. There is huge jackfruit growing all over. The buildings we saw were made of a late of tin and there are a lot of fences and security around things like the schools. We saw some stray dogs. Seeing vendors starting to set up for their day. I wanted to eat all of the foods. I was very excited to try as much as I can.

The drive was nice. We had the windows open. The breeze was great. And there was a lot of chatting and laughing and being silly. We were all so excited to go get clean and get some rest.

When we finally arrived the van struggled to get up the hill. We all were joking about having to lean into it or we would have to get out and push. But we made it there! And then through security.

We got all of our bags scanned. And then we were inside. It was so pretty! We had to give them out passports and visas to check in but we would get them back with our room keys. We had to wait about a half hour but we were all just chilling. Watching breakfast get set up. And discussing the day. We were all excited to hear new bird songs! As the world was waking up it was just so fun hearing birds we have never heard before.

We got our room key and James tried to lead the way but we went the completely wrong way. Oops. So we went back down and one of the staff walked us to our building which was a little down the way. And it was beautiful.

The room was not layed out the way I had pictured but not in a bad way. We have a balcony!! I am so excited about that. And the view is incredible. Like I am blown away. We can see Lake Victoria and some houses and trees and hills and I was just. Absolutely blown away.

We waited until our bags were delivered to take showers. But man was a shower amazing. I got my hair damp to put more conditioner in because the humidity is making me very fluffy. But I know I will just have to accept some amount of fluffy. I did bring my hot brush but I'm not to worried.

We finished getting dressed. Bug spray. Sun screen. And then breakfast!

We headed downstairs and others from our group were there. And I was excited to try things. Buffet was the best idea.

I want to try all the juices. Today I tried watermelon juice which was very nice. I got scrambled egg whites and their local potatoes which were fabulous. I tried a potato curry too which was great with the eggs. I did not like the roasted tomato but jersey tomatoes spoil me for most other tomatoes. I got to try watermelon yogurt which was great. I also tried a passion fruit and papaya. They were fine. But my favorite was the tree tomatoes. I had 4 of them. They tasted like really lovely sour candy. Incredible.

After breakfast we would go look at the plants and bugs. I took some pictures. But then we headed back to the room to rest.

We didn't plan on sleeping but we would sleep until almost 230 in the afternoon. And I was worried that it will mess up the sleep schedule later but this would be fine and was actually a really lovely sleep.

When we woke up I was in a good mood. The general plan was to meet the group at 4 to go to Sam's parents. But that would get moved to 7. So we had time to chill.

First we would stop at another room so James could get measured. I chatted with Uncle Joe and he laughed when I said how beautiful everything is and he was like you haven't even seen anything yet! But I did see the biggest snail I have ever seen in my life so I was still riding that high.

We went for a walk around the gardens. I would point out every bug and bird and small critters I could see. We found more jackfruit. And walked through the playground which has a full trampoline??? We would head down to the gift course, not quite on the lake but closer then we had been. I am just constantly amazed at how beautiful it is here. I can't wait to see more.

We joined friends at the bar and we're all fascinated by the conversion rate. My Pepsi with 8000 shillings! I hope to get some money to bring home as souvenirs. A lot of places will take us dollars and give you back Ugandan change but the dollars have to be nice and not torn or ugly.

Everyone here is so beautiful so far. The fabrics and cuts and everything has been so neat to see. I just want to people watch. And we would get those chances.

After we left the bar we wandered a little longer. And went back to our room to change into our nicer outfits. We would go and hang out in the atrium for a bit. James read on their tablet. I worked on some embroidery. Chatting and people watching. Paul's parents would come down and Paul Sr would show us some of the beautiful pictures he took this morning. We are all just having such a lovely time so far.

Me and James came back to the room and set up on the balcony. I cut more bracelet string. They read. We keep going "woah!!!" Whenever a bird flys by. And now we are heading to find the group again for the welcome party!

It actually took a while to get everyone together to leave for the party. We would meet everyone at the bar. Where I was invited to take shots but I declined. I still enjoyed saying shots shots shots.

It was a bit like herding cats. We would end up in someone's room pregaming and laughing. It has been really nice to be with the girls. I really like them. They are all so pretty and cool. And it's just been so nice talking to them.

When we finally found Paul and Sam and everyone was gathered we would get on the bus. One of the boys was almost left behind but he hustled and we were off to the compound.

And when Sam said compound she meant compound. We would drive through a market, almost all of the trip here was on dirt roads. It was fascinating. More tin buildings. Lots of people. Markers and children and dogs and so many motorcycles. The aspects of poverty are here, and from an anthropology angle it's fascinating, from a human angle I am not sure how to talk about it. I don't want to come across as patronizing, but I'm observing as an outsider from a place of privilege. I am fascinated by the society we have seen. It feels so far removed and different that I am just taking everything in best I can.

We started arriving at the compound and we were all surprised by how bumpy the roads were and that the tall concrete walls had barbed wire on the top. Someone made a comment about is it to keep people in or out? And how it is a little painful to see people have to fear their own community. But once we were past the gate we were in a paradise again.

It's dark out so we can't see to much of the grounds but the house Sam's parents have built is incredible. It's all clean lines and arches and lights. And as soon as we got here (after taking our shoes off to leave outside) we were greeted with hugs. And everyone has been so lovely.

Drinks and dancing and music and laughing. I got to give Sam's family the bracelets I made for them. And I have had some wonderful talks. Everyone is drinking and so happy and it's great. I am so happy for Sam and Paul. And the beautiful families they are bringing together. Like I could cry I am so happy for them.

And tonight has been so fun. I obviously did not eat the meat but James said it was amazing. One of the guys, Gabe, said it was incredible and James thought they were exaggerating but they were not. Everything I did have was so good. More potatoes and a slaw that was red and a salsa and avocado and naan. I also tried the papaya juice and it was all so fresh tasting. I would have liked a sauce of some kind because I like dips but I was still enjoying it so much.

I have been trying to just be very present. But as people are chilling and the dancing has calmed down (I was enjoying dancing too!!) and the speaker just died I wanted to get this finished up. I am not sure when the night will be over. But I'm really happy. This first day was so good. I can't wait to see what tomorrow is like.

I love you all. Until next time! Goodnight!

[drivingschool44]

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[kyndaris]

Heal the World

Despite being nominated for several categories at the 2023 The Game Awards, Spider-Man 2 did not manage to win any of the prestigious trophies. A fact that has been both lambasted and poked fun of on the internet. But when you consider the sheer quantity, as well as the quality, of games that came out, the fact Spider-Man 2 was even nominated is proof of its greatness. Especially when it was going up against heavy-weights Baldur's Gate 3, Alan Wake 2, Final Fantasy XVI, Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and Super Mario Bros: Wonder.

2023, it should be noted, was a game of big releases.

Following on from several strategy role-playing games I was stuck playing, it was only in the latter half of the year I was able to play catch-up on many of the triple-A titles. Even now, though, I have yet to tackle Final Fantasy XVI, Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, Baldur's Gate 3 and Alan Wake 2.

To be fair, I've bought all the titles. They are, unfortunately, just sitting around waiting for me to devote the necessary time to make the adventure worthwhile.

Once I do, of course, be sure to see posts pop up throughout the year. Even as I try to balance work, my writing hobbies, the books I read, shows I watch (at time of writing, I've gotten into Blue Eye Samurai), and whatever travel I also have planned. In fact, I should hopefully be publishing the sequel to Wild Child soon. After pounding out the chapters during a period where everything has gone back to normal, taking the time out to write a full-length novel is very time-consuming. Not to mention the editing I'm doing (which would probably be better if I had an actual editor and at least one beta reader) to polish up a few things.

In any case, the story of my journey with Spider-Man 2 began not when I popped the disc into my PlayStation 5. Nay, the story begins with the day I purchased the game at a store in the heart of Sydney CBD. I was catching up with a high school friend and had just seen a Facebook post about an exhibit in Barangaroo. After dinner, off we trotted - after much convincing on my part that a walk down to Barangaroo would be for the best - to take in the flipped truck suspended by spider webs and New York policemen milling about telling everyone within earshot that, "There was nothing to see here." The trip, capped off with a photo of the truck, was made memorable when I muttered under my breath how the hired actors were pretending to be NPCs. Only, of course, to be remonstrated by my friend for saying such a thing.

And honestly, it it is true that I shouldn't be calling the people I see only in passing as NPCs. After all, in their own mind, they're the main character and I'm the NPC lurking in the background of their story. Which only serves to drive home the disconnection we have with the people around us or who might share the daily commute with us.

Still, what a thing to say to dismiss another person.

I'm reminded of a scene in the book Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, which my workplace bookclub read, where Sam called his best friend, Max, an NPC right to his face. I know Max didn't take it to heart but what a cruel and heartless thing to say to someone who has supported you throughout your game developing journey and is then ruthlessly gunned down on the pretense he was you by angry gamers.

Anyways, back to Spider-Man 2. The game follows on from Spider-Man and Spider-Man: Miles Morales. Ten months on from the last game, we see Peter Parker and Miles Morales working together to keep New York safe. And though the Avengers seem to exist in the world - what with Avenger Tower jutting up above the New York skyline - we never see these other superheroes once during the struggles Peter and Miles face. Nor do we see cameos from the likes of Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Iron Fist or Luke Cage.

Which is such a shame.

But it also highlights the problem of having so many comic-book superheroes call New York home.

Spider-Man 2 starts with Peter taking on a job as a physics teacher at Brooklyn Visions, the school Miles attends. As he's teaching them about surface tension, Sandman attacks. Torn between his responsibilities as civilian Peter and that of Spider-Man, Peter joins up with Miles to take down Flint Marko in an epic showdown that saves the city. Unfortunately, due to dereliction of duty as a teacher, Peter is fired. A side-effect of being a superhero who keeps his identity hidden (although given how often his friends have since said his name during the game, I'm surprised it's still a secret).

From there, the game introduces us to Kraven, a man who seeks his death in glorious combat with a mighty opponent. As such, he captures Mister Negative and Scorpion while the two were being transported from the Raft. He even administers a high dose of Lizard serum into Dr Curt Connors to face up against a worthwhile opponent.

It is only when Peter acquires the symbiote that excitement enters Kraven's eyes. In the latter chapters, he fights against Peter and demands that our erstwhile hero stop holding back even showing off a battered Miles. Before Peter can kill him, Miles intervenes and Peter is then freed from the symbiote's control.

Of course, Spider-Man 2 is not content to have Kraven as the big bad for this game. Oh no.

As many know, once you've introduced the symbiote, you've also introduced Venom. But instead of Eddie Brock taking on the mantle of our favourite anti-hero, it is instead Harry Osborn.

Though Harry was only mentioned briefly in the first game, in Spider-Man 2, Harry returns from a long sabbatical in Europe and supposedly cured from his terminal illness. Harry is introduced early, hiring Peter to work at his environmental technology startup called the Emily-May foundation where the pair can pursue their childhood dream of "healing the world." Unfortunately, during the events of Spider-Man 2, with Peter taking on the symbiote, Harry's health - both physical and mental - deteriorates. Desperate to return to a semblance of normality, Harry reclaims the symbiote and is then transformed into the Venom we all know and love.

He is later stopped by the combined efforts of Miles, Peter and MJ. The final battle leaves Harry comatose and our heroes shattered once again by the sacrifices they had to make in order to save the city they call home.

What I liked most about Spider-Man 2, however, as a criminology major in university, was its focus on rehabilitation. Many of the supervillains that Spider-Man fans have come to know and love have been reformed in some way or another. Be that Tombstone to Mysterio. Many of these villains have chosen to turn over a new leaf and assimilate back into society. The most tragic and most human is the story of Sandman. Threatened by Kraven's hunters, fearing for his daughter and not being heard by those in power, he resorts to the only thing he knows in order to garner attention: attacking the city.

It is a tale as old as time.

And helps support the tenets of strain theory in crime sociology.

Of course, there are a myriad reasons why people turn to crime.

But these glimpses are so important to understand the complexities of why someone might resort to doing something illegal. And it's a far better exploration of redemption than what Spider-Man: No Way Home attempted. As I've stated before, change takes time. While No Way Home plucked our villains during their final showdown with the various Spider-Man across the multiverse, Spider-Man 2 shows the results of Mysterio and Sandman having served their time and seeking to mend their ways.

This all culminates in the interactions with Mister Negative and Miles Morales. And while Miles cannot bring himself to forgive what Mister Negative did, he is able to move past the anger.

The other message in Spider-Man 2, of course, is that some burdens cannot be taken on alone. The tagline for the game is: 'Be Greater. Together.' Something I wish more people would take to heart. When a community comes together, there is so much more that can be done. Unfortunately, the Western world prefers to champion individualistic effort over those of a collective.

Capitalism seems to forget that if you don't have your workers or people who can afford to purchase your goods, then what's the whole point? And if you're curious where this odd segue came from, I'm currently playing through Octopath Traveler 2 and Partitio's story is very much of a big-hearted merchant who looks out for his town. His dream, funnily enough, is to destroy the devil known as poverty. Something our modern world still has not been able to solve (but could. If there was any profit to it. But who are we kidding? There isn't.)

From a combat perspective, Spider-Man 2 changes things up a little by introducing a parry mechanism as well as a few other new abilities for the Spider-Men to enjoy. While this kept the game lively, it annoyed me that I needed a full Focus bar in order to heal. This was especially difficult in the latter boss battles against Scream and Venom. I'm not sure if the reason why I struggled through them was because I hadn't topped up my Focus bars prior to the mission or if it was simply me not gelling with Peter's abilities.

What I do know was that I hated how the attack you couldn't dodge, but had to parry, was highlighted in red and that the unblockable attack was blue. Especially when the game had trained you early on with managing a perfect dodge when the spider sense was red. It also didn't help that in the battles with Scream and Venom, these indicators didn't last for very long and I couldn't cancel an animation if I was already mid-dodge to parry an attack.

At least the checkpointing was generous!

As for other gameplay moments, I had to say the swinging was smooth as butter and the web wings added some great diversity to travel. Especially with the wind tunnels all around the city to help one get from Point A to Point B.

And because of these quality-of-life improvements, I didn't feel like the new map, which now included Queens and Brooklyn, was that much larger than the original Spider-Man game or as time-consuming to get through like a map in the open-world Assassin's Creed titles.

So, while Spider-Man 2 didn't win at The Game Awards, it certainly won my heart as the second last game I played in the year 2023. And I'm certainly excited to see what Insomniac cooks up next, despite the hack. The studio is great at nailing story, gameplay and world while serving up side-dishes of heart. Best of all, it didn't have me chasing after pigeons!

In a year teeming with big titles, Spider-Man 2 was everything I wanted in an open-world game without overstaying its welcome.

Thank you Insomniac and here's hoping Spider-Man 3 brings on the Green Goblin in all his glory! Oh, and Silk. I'm curious to how they'll insert that comic storyline into the game.