#courses in riyadh

[dotitioo]

https://www.dotit.io/post/website-development-services-for-restaurants-in-ahmedabad

[ok-orange-8774]

A machine learning course is an educational program or series of classes designed to teach individuals the principles, algorithms, and practical applications of machine learning. Datamites provides online training in Riyadh

[masteryedu]

Benefits of teaching international curriculum to Arab students

The field of education is divided in to two major categories and they are national or government school and international school. The regular schools established and managed by government employed faculty is traditional and teach a curriculum which is close to the culture and language of the country it belongs.

On the other hand the المدارس العالمية للسعودين (international schools for Saudis) powered by western influences and practices teach and train students using a study curriculum which is global.  Both these categories impart education to students so they are able to read and write properly and speak the languages in a cultured way.

Primary education to kindergarten education can be availed by enrolling children in both general schools run by Saudi government and private schools with international curriculum. The later will cost you more money than a government schools where education is free up to kindergarten.

Benefits of enrolling in international schools in Riyadh

Learn foreign languages

The first benefit is learning languages other than your mother tongue. These schools provide the opportunity to children by offering lessons in English and other languages. In international schools you can also learn other languages than English and you have the option to choose German, French, Spanish Chinese etc.

Career development

International schools recruit teachers who are well versed and trained in international curriculum used across the globe. المدارس العالمية بالرياض International schools in Riyadh teach  subjects like history, mathematics, social studies, science and geography in foreign languages like English and significantly develop their skills so they can compete with foreign schools students and get admission in foreign universities. By learning English and other western languages you create more opportunities for a lucrative career.

International syllabus or curriculum

International schools in Riyadh adopt internationally accredited curriculum so they could prepare students to face competition on global level. It may be an admission with an American university or getting a job in an international brand company. 

Huge range of extracurricular activities

International schools provide students opportunities that are extracurricular and they pertain to sports, music, art, photography, dance etc.

teachers pay attention to skills and talents inherited by students and accordingly teach them so their natural inheritance of skills is enhanced in the chosen curriculum for an example a sports talent is spotted at early age and developed by providing training, lessons etc.

International faculty

International schools hire teachers who are from foreign origin and use them excessively to impart proper international curriculum to students. For a native teacher it may prove difficult to teach international study curriculum and may not be effective in teaching the lessons correctly.

[suhasini123]

An artificial intelligence (AI) course is an educational program or training that focuses on teaching individuals the principles, techniques, and applications of artificial intelligence. Datamites is an organization that offers various courses and training programs in the field of data science, artificial intelligence, and machine learning.

[egrowthonline]

OSHA 30 Hour Construction Industry course in riyadh, KSA. The OSHA 30 Hour Construction Industry Training course is a comprehensive safety program designed for anyone involved in the construction industry.

[gowdasushmita]

The most methodical, comprehensive, and career-focused         education is  available in the cybersecurity field. Cybersecurity is the practice of protecting systems, networks, and programs from digital attacks. Skillogic is a leading training institute for cyber security training in Riyadh

[marvelfanfics1]

Ooo, Rafe calling little!reader who is back at the condo, and asking her to find the pen (feel like adding Sofia in this sinerio would get messy given what happened). She wears his shirts and sleeps on his side of the bed since she’s already clingy in little space, so him being away is really hard

Rafe weaves through the busy streets, scanning the stands for any kind of phone so he could contact you, luckily finding one in a secluded alley.

He quickly types in your number, raising the phone to his ear and continues walking, his eyes darting everywhere as he waits for you to pick up. "C'mon...pick up."

You're at Rafe's house, all comfortable on his side of the bed with various sweets around you while Bluey is playing on the tv when suddenly your phone rings.

You pick it up and answer it without looking who it is, just wanting to get this call over so you can enjoy being little. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby. I-" Rafe starts, smirking when you squeal excitedly at hearing his voice, sitting up on the bed.

"Daddy! You comin' home now?" You quickly ask, already missing him so bad that you wear his shirts every day since he went to Morocco.

"Not yet, I still got business to do here." He answers and you frown at that. "You gotta do me a favor, yeah? So I can wrap this up faster."

You perk up at that, you would do anything so he comes back home faster. "Wha' is it?"

"I just need you to find a pen that Groff gave me. Uh, it should be in the kitchen maybe." He instructs.

You get up from the bed, the crinkling of the candy packages being heard clearly through the phone and Rafe raises a brow.

"You're not eating the whole candy shelf empty, are you?" He asks, stopping to walk for a moment to place his hand on his hip. "Because I remember that I specifically told you not to go near it while I'm gone."

"Uh...nooo, course not daddy..." You murmur while making your way to the kitchen."

Rafe sees right through your lie like he always does. "We'll talk about this when I'm back."

"M'in the kitchen now." You change the topic, looking over the counter surfaces. "You mean like my cwayons?"

He chuckles. "No, no, um, like the ones I use for work, y'know? Look through the drawers, it should be in there." He says and you do, finding a black pen with golden engraving.

"Found it daddy!" You giggle in triumph.

"Good girl." He praises you, making you smile brightly. "Can you try and tell me what's written on it?"

"Oh, um, s'hard but...Riyadh, Mimouna, Essaouria, Maroc. That right?" You mumble, embarrassed if he couldn't understand.

"Okay, yeah, I saw a sign of that. Thank you, baby. You did a good job, proud of ya." He says, making his way to where he saw that sign of the hotel.

"Daddy...I miss you." You admit quietly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you're wearing, wishing he was here and cuddling you.

You are a clingy person in the first place and that only increases when you're little, the fact that he's already gone for a while and most likely will be for a bit longer has you feeling lonely and sad.

"I miss you too kid...I promise I'll be back soon, yeah?" He assures you. "I love you."

"Lub you too, daddy. Pwease be careful and don' talk to strangers!" You say, recounting what he often tells you.

Rafe laughs softly at that. "I will. Be good until I'm back."

Then the line goes dead and you sigh, going back to the bedroom to continue your Bluey marathon, snuggling back into Rafe's pillow that still smells like him.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[octuscle]

Expats

Gabriel was quite a freeloader. Of course he didn't come to Dubai as an expat because he was stupid or lazy. But he also knew pretty well that he would have had a much harder time in France affording the life he could afford here. Life in Dubai was luxury, pure luxury. He had a cool house with a pool, a gardener, a housekeeper and a chauffeur, and he earned a huge amount of money. He didn't necessarily work nine to five, but he didn't necessarily work himself to death either. In short, for him, life here was pure paradise!

Gabriel had heard the news that the climate had turned a little against the privileges of expats. But he wasn't interested in it. He would do his job here, he was saving a lot of money, which was safely invested in Switzerland, if necessary, he would be on the plane back to Paris tomorrow and look for a job in Riyadh or Kuwait. The United Arab Emirates were not the only place on this planet where he could make money. And besides, he didn't really care about it today. It was Saturday. Tomorrow he would have to sit in the office again, today he wanted to work out at the gym and then hang out with a few friends at the beach club for the rest of the day. A few cocktails, lobster for dinner and then to bed. The only problem was: his driver had the day off. And even though Gabriel had been living in Dubai for several years, he couldn't drive a car himself! He had forgotten how. That's why there were drivers. So he ordered a taxi.

The porter at his community had announced the driver. Gabriel took his sports bag. A quick check in the mirror: yes, he looked good. He opened the door. The brand new Toyota taxi was parked in front of the door. The driver got out and asked in English if Gabriel wanted to put the sports bag in the boot. Gabriel barely looked up from his phone and just shook his head. He didn't feel like having any more contact with the driver than absolutely necessary. The driver opened the back door for him, Gabriel got in, repeated his destination once more and continued playing with his cell phone. The driver remained quiet at first. But then he started talking. First in English. About the weather, about football, where Gabriel came from, whether he liked Dubai. Gabriel simply didn't react. The driver just kept talking. That he had fled from Syria. That he had been in Dubai for four years. That he had two children. He showed Gabriel pictures in his wallet. His English became more and more incomprehensible. A mixture of English and Arabic. Gabriel continued to pretend to be deaf. The driver kept talking. In Arabic. He was ranting about the expats. About the arrogance of the infidels, who thought they were better than everyone else, even though they were dependent on the mercy of Allah, who had given the Muslims oil.

Gabriel was annoyed. He wanted to work on a few e-mails and not talk about politics. What did he care about politics? So he snapped at the driver, "Rakkiz 'ala al-siyaqa, ana mashghul!" The driver smiled. He looked in the rear-view mirror. God's plan was working.

The taxi driver's language began to change again. Arabic with a French accent. Gabriel sat in the back on the worn imitation leather seats of the old taxi. In the front, Ayoub couldn't stop getting worked up about the last few games of Olympic Marseille. Djibril grinned. He knew the feeling. When Ayoub was in a rage, he was in a rage. Fortunately, they were almost at the wholesale market, then his brother would let him out. Ayoub would drive his shift to an end. And Djibril would see what kind of job he could get. He and his pals ironically called themselves the expats. It was true in a way… His brother and he had immigrated from Morocco ten years ago. They had family in Marseille. Djibril had really tried hard at school, but at some point he stopped going and started working as a day laborer at the wholesale market. He was doing well. By now, Djibril had his network, he knew his way around. And he was strong and fast. He saved what he earned. He was proud of his brother Ayoub, who made it to get a taxi license and his own taxi, which was also Djibril's goal.

He checked his messages. It was still dawn. Ayoub was on his way to the banlieue to sleep. It was good when he drove the night shift, then he and Djibril didn't have to share the small bedroom. So far, no one had contacted him to request Djibril's services. If necessary, he could help out in his aunt's café in the kitchen. There was no money for that, though. But a café and a lunch. Life as an expat wasn't so bad.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 15 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: hihi, just wanted to thank you all for the love for the 2 most recent chapters <33 I’m loving all messages and comments!! 💖 please enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the last chapter tomorrow (around 20:30 CEST)🥹🤍

W/C: 3.385

part fourteen

"You know that you're allowed to be upset, right, Jude?" She asks, looking down at the tired-looking boy.

"I know, but it's disappointing.." Jude murmurs back, moving his head to look up at her. His head on her lap, as her hands delicately play with the soft, just-washed curls on his head.

It's a soothing and intimate touch, something they'd both discovered to create a calm and relaxing atmosphere.

"You can be disappointed. It's difficult feeling like you’re on top of the world one day, and the next you feel like shit."

y/n puffs out a breath, trying to reassure his thoughts and feelings with logical and rational reasoning.

Real Madrid had won the Super Cup final against their derby rivals Atletico Madrid only a week ago in Riyadh. Though, last night's loss against the exact same opponents for the Copa del Rey hadn't exactly gone the same way.

With the extra time and many yellow cards later, they eventually lost with two goals made by Atletico, throwing Real Madrid out of reach of the win in a very dramatic fashion.

It was a whirlwind of a week for Jude, and to him- all he needed was someone to help him sort his thoughts out.

"You can't change anything about the past, not even when you fret and ponder about it for years. You can only look forward and change what you think you can, think winning the league or even the Champions League, Jude…” She says, leaning back against the couch, warm fingertips hovering above his hairline.

"You sound like a motivational speaker.." He voices, chuckling while watching her recline on the couch.

"Well, what I'm saying is true. Like- when I thought you moving in would be the end of my life- it turned into- this.."

She points at him and back to herself, making a dramatic gesture.

"End of your life? That's harsh." He frowns, grasping her hand to prevent her from poking his eyes out.

"Well, then let's not remind you of the times I've wanted to punch you right across the face, wanting to wipe that smirk off your lips and-"

Her voice is cut off by his hand, it clamped over her mouth as only muffled noises escape from her lips.

"Should I feel threatened?" He questions, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, only to groan as she pokes her tongue through her lips. He removes his hand, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he sits up from his position.

"No, I'm sure you also had hateful thoughts about me. I definitely cannot blame you.." She trails off, trying to recall anything pertaining to the topic.

"You were pretty annoying." He states, clicking his tongue. Jude fixes his position, making sure he's sitting comfortably.

"Annoying?"

She had expected the description and would definitely understand why, but why did it hurt a little bit?

Noticing the change of expression on her face, Jude grabs onto her hand, pressing a soft, tender kiss on her knuckles.

"-but in a good way!" He adds quickly, eyes raised in panic.

Of course, the words she'd just uttered were way harsher in comparison to his, though it being said explicitly and clearly for the first time since they'd met, it stung like a bitch- to y/n, at least.

"You would always say or do something that riled me up so badly. I remember when you first started interviewing me- and you'd switch from snarky comments off camera to acting like the sweetest, most kind person to me. I thought; 'Oh? So, this is how two-faced she can be?'."

"But, you'd also have moments where you'd confuse me so much." Jude looks up, leaning in to press multiple, back-to-back kisses on her temple.

"When?" She asks, eyes fluttering as she soaks up the loving, sweet gesture.

"Remember that night in- Naples? When you panicked about someone breaking into your hotel room?" Jude recalls, absentmindedly pulling her closer into his side, on the couch.

"Mhm, I remember- I was so embarrassed about it.. I thought I'd have to book it out of your room immediately before you'd start making fun of me.."

"I was not going to make fun of you. That's what you thought of me?"

"I didn't know! We were bickering like- every damn second up until that point."

"No, I was genuinely surprised at first, but when you left, I couldn't even sleep properly, and I didn’t even know why..”

"Well, what's the annoying part?"

She asks, watching Jude's fingers get entangled with hers, making her grin a little.

"You were annoying in a way- which I couldn't shake my thoughts away from you if something had happened that specific day back then. I couldn't put it into words, tried to rack my brain so many times, over and over.."

"You had this long-lasting presence, and the way you spoke and acted practically got ingrained into my memory for me to repeat every night. This definitely got worse when I moved in here.."

Making eye contact again, she nods in understanding, grasping the hem of his shirt to play with.

"You thought of me, every night?" She grins, smug look replacing her once confused and sad expression.

"I knew this would enlarge your ego.." Jude chuckles, placing another kiss on her cheekbone, before he's interrupted by a text message popping up on his phone.

"Who is it?" y/n asks, glancing up when Jude shows her the screen.

"It's my mum.." He simply says, eyes skimming over the lengthy message. After a minute of silence, he looks back at his curious girlfriend.

"She's just trying to comfort me like you have been. Asks if she can come over for tea.." He informs, hand reaching to wipe away a single fallen lash stuck on her cheek.

"Oh, that's sweet. Of course she can-.." y/n trails off, eyes darting away from the iPhone and onto her lap. Fingers starting to fidget with the loose threads on her used sweatpants.

Getting a comforting, reassuring text message from your own mother..

Something the young girl could not even dream of. Let alone speak to her own mother ever again, at least in this lifetime.

The thought makes her smile uncomfortably, though there's absolutely no positive emotion behind it, skin around her eyes crinkling in fake happiness.

"y/n?" Jude whispers, noticing the change in her demeanor and the tensing of her shoulders.

"Hm?" She hums back, her eyes darting up and locking with his brown ones.

"You okay?"

Jude is in love, not stupid.

Seeing his girlfriend's entire mood change, just at the mention of his mother isn't something he wants to just skim over.

There was absolutely nothing going on between her and his mother. In fact, after his parents had been informed of their oldest son's affection for her, they welcomed her into the family within a heartbeat.

It wasn't either of the two who told them, instead- y/n's understandably protective father had told them. This came after he'd talked to Jude privately, grilling him with questions only a father would make up- and of course the intentions question was asked, like they weren't just young people trying to figure out their lives.

In reality, her father had long approved of the idea of the two young adults having a relationship. The times he was home and present with them, he'd slowly noticed the way they had warmed up to each other.

Not to forget, months ago, his daughter had burst into his office- asking for him to handle something for her. Puzzled at his own daughter needing legal help for 'online defamation, because they think I’m dating that douche', he'd dropped everything to listen to her- only to end up laughing at the end of her dramatic and insulting (towards Jude, of course) speech.

It wasn't difficult, as an experienced adult, to guess where the young adults' relationship would go from there.

"y/n.." Jude calls out again, placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking slightly to snap her out of her thoughts when she doesn't reply.

"I'm just thinking.." She finally says, wanting to lie- but realizing that he is, in fact, her boyfriend now- it might be better in the long run, to be honest.

"About what?" His eyes flicker up, a warm hand pulling her in closer. Realizing the comfort or warmth she might need to open up and speak.

"I just feel sad.." The confession is quiet, looking down, she grasps onto the hem of her sweater. Trying to keep her emotions at bay, because this conversation was about comforting him, and not about trauma dumping on the already upset boy, she thought.

Jude blinks, looking over his girlfriend's defeated figure. The gears in his head twist and turn, trying to decipher what she meant with her words.

"Do you want to tell me why?" He asks, trailing a hand up, pinching her chin with his pointer finger and thumb, raising her head to make eye contact.

Her eyes glimmer with emotion when they lock with his chocolate brown ones, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tries to contain the tremble of her lips.

Though, it's insanely difficult, especially when multiple emotions are swirling around her mind, and the suppressing of the tears causes a sharp pain to pass through her temples.

She grunts softly, not being able to hold back anymore, the pressure in her head worsening.

Tears pool against her waterline, and she closes her eyes. Allowing a soft whimper to escape her lips, tension dropping from her shoulders, as y/n stops suppressing her emotions.

Jude's eyes widen, his breath hitching in surprise as he watches his new love practically crumble in front of him.

"Oh, baby.." Jude coos breathily, the soft, foreign term of endearment falling from his plump lips.

He moves his hands immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her onto his lap.

y/n instantly presses her face against his shoulder, grasping onto the fabric of his shirt. Her tears darken the blue shirt, as Jude's hand rubs against her back in a tender manner.

"You're okay, honey.." He whispers, pressing multiple kisses along her temple and cheek, rubbing soft, soothing circles on her back.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong, hm?" He soothes, his voice deeper than usual, offering sweet and reassuring words to the crying girl.

"I- don't even remember how her voice sounded or what her personality was like.." I whisper, raising my palms to harshly wipe my annoying tears away. They just kept pouring out of my eyes like the damn Niagara Falls..

"Look at me, love.." Jude whispers tenderly, grabbing my wrist to remove my hands from my face. I can't help but feel tingles down my spine at the word he refers to me with.

The Brum accent combined with his deep, raspy evening voice- melting my heart instantly. It distracts me from my breakdown for a single moment, and I shift my eyes back to his, just like he asks me to.

"Take a deep breath for me, yeah?" He says, pressing a kiss on the back of my hand.

I nod at his words, taking a single, deep breath, before releasing when he tells me to..

"Good- you're so good for me, baby.." He gives me a small, satisfied smile, kissing my cheek again. He moves his hands, pulling my head back onto his chest, running his hand down my back.

"This okay?" He asks, making me nod. I sigh again, nuzzling my face against his hard chest.

I had just spilled my entire heart out to the boy whom I had sworn to hate for the rest of my life, only a few weeks ago.

The topic wasn't something I had openly talked about since I was a teenager in my psychologist's office back in London. It hurt way too much to talk about with friends, and it felt like opening up a bigger wound when speaking to my own family about it.

I mean, it couldn't ever get easy- talking about losing your blood and flesh, let alone your own mother. In my case, the person who had gone through hours of labor and delivery- creating me from her own nutrients and energy.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever comfortably tell someone that my mother had passed away in a violent car crash.

An accident that had occurred only because little five-year-old me wanted my mom at my graduation to primary school.

I had gone through years and years of therapy, though, of course, to me nothing could actually take away the wound and grief it had caused a young me.

I couldn't sleep some nights, mind trying to remember anything about my mom. Since I had lost her so young, I could only recall her face from old photographs and home videos taken by my dad.

"Yeah.." I mutter, eyes closing as I try to ground myself. Taking in the beating of Jude's heart against my ear and his musky cologne.

"Need anything?"

"No, just you.."

I feel his chest vibrating as he chuckles, the sound reaching my ears and filling me with a warm and fuzzy feeling.

"I'm here, love. Take your time, and we'll wash up before my mum comes over.." I feel his hand against my back, caressing from my nape all the way to the small of my back.

I hum in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as I try to calm down, taking my surroundings in.

"Okay.."

'Meet me in the lobby'

'Security won't stop you'

'We have free time for a couple hours'

I stare at the incoming text messages, my eyes darting to the sender. Only to read Jude's contact name.

I sit up from my bed, slipping on the hotel slippers immediately, and walk over to the bathroom. Trying to fix my appearance before I realize I don't know what I'm getting ready for.

I snatch my phone from the bathroom sink, sending a quick message back to Jude. I wait for a couple seconds, busy with applying mascara, until I hear a notification sound.

'For some dessert, love'

'Dress casual, I'm in sweats and a jacket'

'I don't want to look like a fool next to you'

I chuckle at the reply, nodding as if he can see me before sending a quick message back.

I eventually make my way down to the lobby, looking around and trying to be as discreet as possible. Hoping other staff members and players didn't think of going down as well.

So far, the only people who had figured us out were Luis and Lina. I mean, I couldn't exactly keep it that much of a secret after they'd sneaked a glance at my home screen when I had left to print something.

They had been nosy after seeing someone text me, and when they read that it was Jude- I could've sworn they died and came back to life in a span of two minutes.

I look around quickly when I step out of the elevator, finally catching a familiar black puffer jacket. I grin to myself, making a beeline towards him, and whispering a small 'boo!' when I touch his shoulder from behind.

"Hey! Shhh.." His eyes enlarge comically, and I feel him grab onto my hands almost instantly.

"I'm quiet.." I whisper, giving him a toothy smile as he drags me out of the hotel lobby, out onto the streets of Valencia.

I allow Jude to walk in front of me, our hands intertwined, as he suddenly stops in a less busy area of the street.

I raise my brows as he turns around, watching a smile form on his handsome face.

"Hi?" I begin, pulling a confused face.

"Hi.." He replies, chuckling softly, before he pulls me into a warm embrace. His breath hitting my neck as he plants a kiss on my lips and cheek.

"I missed you." Jude says, pulling back to look at me, while his arms encircle my waist, keeping me warm.

"Well, you could have seen me a couple hours ago, after the match- but you stormed into the changing room after you got that red card.."

I sigh, recalling the absolute shitshow of a match against Valencia a couple hours ago. The referee couldn't do his fucking job, there were multiple VAR checks, and the blowing of the final whistle- resulted in the disallowance of the winning goal, scored by Jude. Eventually, he got red-carded for dissent.

Nothing surprising, actually..

I watch a guilty expression form on his face, forehead wrinkles showing as he frowns at me.

"Well, I'm sorry about that- did I scare you?"

"No? Why would it scare me? I wanted to punch that referee too.." I make multiple punching movements, hitting Jude on his chest once.

"Hey, hey- don't get violent, little Miss, you can't use physical violence here.."

I chuckle at his change of voice, dropping my hands to my sides, and grabbing his hand.

"Sorry, sir. Any reason you've called me down here?" I tease, watching him smile at me, before he squeezes my hand affectionately.

"Let's get some ice cream. I saw a decent looking place on Google Maps.."

"Oh, what flavors do they have?" I ask, mouth watering at the thought of having good-quality ice cream.

For me, it didn't matter the weather. Ice cream could be consumed any time of year, as long as I craved it.

Jude tugs at my hand, indicating he wants us to start walking to the ice parlor he'd seen. I follow him mindlessly, paying more attention to his words than to where we're going.

"Umh, they have 'chocolate' and 'fresa' and, of course, 'vainilla'.."

I laugh at his sudden use of Spanish, quirking my brow up as he starts naming the basic ice cream flavors one by one.

"Are you just trying to show off how much you've improved your Spanish skills?" A huge smile tugs at my lips, my eyes roaming over his proud, cocky expression.

"No, just slipped out of my mouth. I must be getting the hang of it.."

"Sure, Mister. Now give me the directions in Spanish.."

I tease, trying to challenge him, but chuckle when he shakes his head violently.

"It's just straight this way.."

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his bad excuse.

Watching a small smile form on his lips.

"Sure, let's just go straight ahead then.."

The couple’s very spontaneous ice cream date is ended by the both of them chugging a bottle of water. The once very craved cold and creamy dessert now regretted by how big and sweet their portions were.

"That's a cute bicycle.." y/n mutters, not paying attention to where she's walking. Instead, Jude is holding her hand and looking out while they walk back to their hotel.

"Do you know how to ride a bicycle?" She asks Jude, looking up at the focused boy, busy navigating their way back.

"Of course I can. My dad taught me before I showed interest in football.."

"Mhm, that must've been fun.." She mumbles, fixing her jacket.

While the couple is intrigued by the small, new facts they were learning about each other, they don't notice the very few people walking past them in the streets.

Most of the pedestrians walk in a hurry, minding their own business, on their phone, or listening to music- trying to get home before it gets too dark outside.

Though, sadly, what they also don't notice is, the flash of a camera- directed right at them. Not knowing the predicament that would follow if they were sold off and posted on the internet.

The couple is happy in their own bubble, their hands warm from holding hands, unlike their noses, which froze up in the cold wind.

Just like other pedestrians trying to get back to their hotel, wanting to go unnoticed and undisturbed.

[intriguingpeoplebyangelafloyd]

RANA AHMAD

RANA AHMAD

1985

ACTIVIST & ATHEIST

            Rana Ahmad was born in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia into a strict Islamic family. She and her siblings were taught the Quran from the age of 4 and at school she was educated mostly on the subject of Islam. In her spare time she was permitted to ride her bike to run errands until she turned 10 and her grandfather took it away. Her family forced her to start covering up.

            Aged 19, Ahmad was to be married off, her husband was abusive and they divorced. She attended courses to learn how to speak English and worked in administration in the medical industry. Due to the rules, she had to have a male relative drive her everywhere she needed to go, as she couldn’t travel alone. Ahmad desired freedom.

            Ahmad turned to the internet and discovered philosophy and atheism. She learned online she could educate herself on subjects which was forbidden in her own culture. She found too many contradictions in Islam and started having doubts about her religion.

            She secretly sought help from those online and posed with paper with ‘Atheist Republic’ written on it at Mecca. When the photo was posted online, she planned to escape the country with the help from those behind the website Atheist Republic and Faith to Faithless.

            Ahmad fled Saudi Arabia, her family found out she had escaped to Turkey, so she disguised herself by cutting her hair short and colouring it blonde. She then fled to Greece and then moved to Germany. For the first time she was able to ride a bike again and enjoyed her new freedom.

            Today she is a women’s rights activist and founded the Atheist Refugee Relief.

#ranaahmad #atheism

[gamesetmatch-me]

Here with a new sincaraz fanfic yayyy! So, the beginning isn't the best bc it was written at 7:30 in the morning and I was sleep deprived and the end was written at 11:30 in the night where I also was sleep deprived but the middle part is great i think hahah!

I hope you will like it and if you see any mistakes pls just tell me.

Tiny little summary: Carlos watches Jannik (his bf) in Shanghai playing against Novak and then they are in Riyadh.

Ig i may write a pt. 2 but not this week bc I should study haha!

Jannik looked up to his box where he saw Roger Federer. Juan Carlos Ferrero and Carlos Alcaraz - his boyfriend sitting. 

Of course, he had known that Carlos would come to cheer him on, but seeing also Roger and Juan Carlos in the stands just added to the pressure Jannik was already feeling as he was playing against Novak Djokovic. 

He tried not to think about the fact that there were so many important people of the tennis world watching him and focused on the fact that Carlos will always be cheering for him. 

He didn’t know who Roger was cheering for, but imagined it was for him to give himself a small confidence-boost.

He focused on the racket in his right hand, the ball in his left. 

He had barely won the first set so he knew he had to play better. So, he did.

And it was worth it because what felt like hours later, he had won the match in straight sets. He had defeated Novak Djokovic in straight sets - in front of Roger, Juan Carlos and of course Carlos who tried not to cheer too noticeable as they haven’t told anyone that they were a couple yet. 

It was still new for both of them so they had decided to wait a bit and figure things out first.

Jannik could see Carlos’s smile from the stands which made him even happier. He just won a Masters 1000 in front of his boyfriend. He couldn’t imagine anything better than that.

After all the formalities including the trophy presentation, the photos and interviews, Jannik finally walked through the hallways of the stadium, finally getting away from the noise and people.

Of course, he loved to play, to win, to be around fans, but at some point, it all became too much. He was stressed with everything that was currently going on in his life, and the only thing… person, that was helping him, was Carlos, who he found standing near the lockers.

He was leaning against the white walls, his arms crossed, and he immediately started smiling when he saw Jannik stepping through the doors.

“You did it,” Carlos said, his voice full of pride and something more. Something intimate.

Jannik grinned broadly. “Yes, I guess I did.”

Carlos didn’t wait for any more words and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Jannik’s waist to pull him in for a tight hug.

“You played so well, mi amor,” Carlos whispered into Jannik’s ear and his voice sent a shiver down his spine.

“Thank you. I tried my best,” Jannik said breathlessly.

Carlos pulled back slightly so he could look into Jannik’s hazel-colored eyes that seemed green in the bright light of the locker room.

Slowly, Carlos’s hands slid up Jannik’s sides until his hands brushed his skin under his shirt.

“You deserved this win. I am so, so proud of you,” Carlos said with his lips just inches from Jannik’s.

The older guy leaned in slightly until his lips touched Carlos’s. The kiss started soft, maybe even shy but soon both of them leaned in more and the Italian’s arms came up to wrap around Carlos’s waist to pull him in closer.

The taste of Carlos’s lips, the warmth of his skin that Jannik felt through the fabric of the blue Nike hoodie, it all felt perfect and grounding after the demanding match Jannik has just been through.

But soon, as the kiss deepened, the Spaniard’s hands moved to grip Jannik’s hips as he pressed their bodies closer.

Carlos’s lips moved form Jannik’s mouth, over his jawline, to his neck. Jannik let out a soft sight and tilted his head back to give Carlos more access. His skin felt like it was on fire everywhere his boyfriend’s lips touched him.

“Carlos…” Jannik sighed, his fingers tightening around the fabric of Carlos’s hoodie, that he noticed was really soft, and he made a mental note to steal it from Carlos at some point.

But then, reality came crushing into him. They were still in the locker room – a public space. It didn’t matter how private it felt in that moment, anyone could walk in. His team, Carlos’s team, security guard. As much as he wanted more, he knew they couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Reluctantly, Jannik pulled back, his hands gently pressing against Carlo’s chest which he let go again immediately as he felt Carlos muscles tensing under the thick fabric of his clothes.

“Wait,” he murmured with his voice still breathless and low from the kiss.

Carlos looked up at his boyfriend, surprise and desire in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, mi amor.” His voice was soft but concerned as if he thought he had done something wrong.

Jannik shook his head while offering a small and apologetic smile. “Not here, babe,” he said while his thumb came up to brush over Carlos’s cheek. “I want this. But not here, ok?”

For a small moment, Carlos just stared at him, his brown eyes searching Jannik’s face for any signs that would tell him that he had done a mistake. But as he couldn’t find one, a small smile appeared on his face.

“You are probably right. But we will continue this later, alright?”

Jannik let out a small laugh, which made the tension between them ease again. “Later,” he agreed and leaned in to give Carlos another soft kiss.

They pulled apart and Jannik moved his hands over his shirt.

“Let’s go celebrate,” he said, but when he saw Carlos’s look, he added a “with everyone. We’ll go out for dinner, with our teams. Not what you think.”

His boyfriend pouted which only made the redhead chuckle.

“Then let’s go back to being friends,” Carlos said and Jannik could swear that he heard a pang of disappointment in the Spaniard’s voice.

An hour later, they were seated at a long table in a nice restaurant in the city. Carlos was talking with Juan Carlos Ferrero, laughing at something he had just said.

Every now and then their eyes met and Jannik could feel the same flutter in his chest he had felt the first time he had met Carlos.

Throughout the whole dinner, they managed to keep their distance, careful not to do anything that would draw too much attention. But despite their efforts, there were subtle things - a small brush of Carlos fingers on Jannik’s hand when they handed each other a dish, the way Carlos’s foot would nudge against Jannik’s under the table - that didn’t go unnoticed by their teams.

But it wasn’t until dessert was served, that Jannik noticed Simone’s knowing look. It was just a flicker of something. Amusement? Curiosity? Still, it was enough to make Jannik nervous. He looked away quickly, but he couldn’t stop his brain from forming the little thought in his mind. They knew.

Of course, it made sense. Their teams were there with them all the time. They were accustomed to catch every shift in their mood. It wasn’t exactly easy to hide something from them. Maybe they just hadn’t said anything yet because they waited for Jannik and Carlos to be ready. Or maybe they simply didn’t care.

Toward the end of the dinner, when the plates were mostly empty, Carlos leaned a bit toward Jannik.

“Ready to get out of here?” Jannik could again see the spark in the younger man’s eyes, that he had already seen before in the locker room.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

They made their excuses and thanked their teams for the lovely evening, before they went back to their hotel rooms. Or more hotel room. The second hotel room was just booked so their coaches didn’t see them together.

“Do you thing they know?” Jannik asked as they were standing outside in the cool air of the night.

“They know what?” Carlos seemed confused.

“About us. Simone had that look in his eyes.” Jannik shook his head. “You know what, just forget it. I am probably just paranoid.”

After a moment Carlos reached up to turn Jannik’s head so he looked him in the eyes. “Does it matter? We are happy. No one could take that from us and they haven’t said anything so they probably don’t have a problem with it, right?”

Jannik smiled, feeling a weight being lift off his shoulders. “Yes, as long as we are happy.”

They walked through the streets for a while until Carlos eventually reached for Jannik’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Jannik squeezed his hand in return with a smile on his lips.

***

A few days later, Jannik and Carlos were laying in bed but both of them couldn’t quite sleep as they were too busy thinking about the next day. They were about to face each other in the finals of the six kings slam.

Jannik was curled up next to Carlos with his head resting on his boyfriend’s chest while he listened to his heartbeat. It usually was a comforting sound that grounded him after long days or stressful matched, but tonight it wasn’t enough to calm his nerves.

Carlos’s hand was gently stroking through Jannik’s hair but then the Italian shifted slightly and turned his head to look up at Carlos. He pushed himself up on his elbow so he could get a better look at him.

“Carlitos… what if it changes things? Between us? When we play each other tomorrow?” His voice wasn’t more than a whisper but Carlos could sense the vulnerability in it.

His eyes widened in surprise as he hadn’t expected Jannik to tell him he was scared.

“Mi amor, why would you think it may change anything?” His voice was gentle as he reached out to brush his thumb over Jannik’s cheek that was covered with freckles.

Jannik looked away and started fidgeting with the thick blanket.

“I don’t know… this is a final? This is different. We are rivals on the court but in a relationship off the court. This is kinda weird.” Jannik stared at his fingers that were still playing with the hem of the blanket.

“Listen. This is just an exhibition match. Nothing will happen. And the six million dollars will be shared by us either way and it isn’t as if we hadn’t enough money yet. We will both go out there and play the best fucking tennis we have ever played. No matter what happens on the court, I love you, mi amor. That’s not going to change just because of some match.”

The sincerity in Carlos’s voice did a lot to calm his raging nerves until Jannik realized something.

“You… you love me?”

Carlos looked surprised before he looked out the window and then back to Jannik and met his in the dim light dark looking eyes.

“Of course. I have known that since I first met you.” Jannik felt tears well up in his eyes. “I love you too, Carlitos. I love you so, so much.”

The Italian sat up to pull his boyfriend in a tight hug. He buried his face in the Spaniard’s neck.

“We’ll be ok, mi amor. No matter what happens tomorrow, we will be ok. I promise you that.”

Jannik could just nod while Carlos leaned in to press a kiss on Jannik’s forehead. The doubts were still on Jannik’s mind but they didn’t feel as overwhelming as a few minutes ago.

***

The next day, the atmosphere in the stadium felt electric. It was weird. It always felt different when it was a “sincaraz final”. It was as if everyone knew what was going on. As if they sense the chemistry between the two players.

Jannik really played his best tennis and Carlos couldn’t help himself but admire Jannik’s game. But after it was 4-1 for Jannik, Carlos managed to catch up and win the first set in a tiebreak.

There was this fire in Carlos’s eyes that Jannik knew all to well. It was this fire that made him fall in love with him.

But Jannik didn’t give up. Even though he knew it was his boyfriend who he played against he fought hard. He wanted to win. It wasn’t about love here. It was about tennis. About proving that he deserved to be the world number 1. This year messed a lot with his mental health so he knew he had to win this to give himself a confidence boost.

And he did. He won the next two sets 6-3 6-3 and heard the familiar “Game, Set, Match, Sinner.”

They stepped forward to the net were Carlos pulled him in for the usual net hug but still a bit closer than usually. “You played incredibly well, mi amor. I am so proud of you,” he whispered in Jannik’s ear.

“You too. You fought so hard but thank you for letting me win at least once this year.”

Both men chuckled. “Well, I thought I should let you win you know I could have won,” Carlos said but Jannik knew he was only joking as he saw the pride in Carlos eyes. “This doesn’t change anything. I am so happy for you, Jannik. You deserve this so much.”

The trophy ceremony was all a blur for Jannik. He shook hands, posed for photos, lifted the trophy in the air. But it felt kind of surreal. He had just won Six. Million. Dollars.

He was soon asked if he had enjoyed playing in Riyadh so he just answered like usually. Yes, I liked it and so on…

But then the interviewer continued.

“Every time you play against him, you produce these spectacular matches. What’s it like to go toe-to-toe with him, do you enjoy it or is it you know so difficult, is it demanding, how do you see the rivalry?”

For a moment Jannik had to think about what to say. He couldn’t just say that this isn’t rivalry. This is love.

“Well, uh,” Jannik chuckled. “It’s a mix of everything I would say. But, uhm, you know as… as Carlos said we try to push ourselves to the limits, uhm, you know I wake up in the morning trying… trying to understand the ways how to beat him and, uh, you know this kind of rivalries and this kind of players they push us always to our 100 percent limit so you know obviously I’m very happy about this.”

He said some more stuff as well as the interviewer, but then he was asked a question that made him nervous. He realized that he had said too much. Something he probably should have kept to himself.

“So, did you just tell us that every day you wake up and you think about him?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Well, no, I”, Jannik chuckled nervously while Carlos was just laughing next to him. “I mean it would it… it would be strange, no?”

Jannik could now only hope that no one would realize he was lying. But he was. And he wondered how everyone would react if they realized that Jannik didn’t just wake up thinking about Carlos. No, he woke up next to Carlos every single day.

[ok-orange-8774]

 A data analyst is a professional who interprets, processes, and analyzes data to help organizations make informed business decisions. Datamites provides online training in Riyadh

[channelslam]

No, it’s… I don’t play for money, it’s simple. Of course it’s a nice prize and everything but.. For me, I went there because there were possibly the six best players in the world, and then you can measure yourself with them. And it was also a nice event for me, it was the first time I went to Riyadh. […] And of course, the money is important but not that much. I live a good life also without this money($6M). So I think it’s more important the health I have, surrounding myself with great people and family I have, then the money, it’s just an extra. (eurosport on X)

my actual less hot-headed take about sinner's interview: the "i don't play for money" thing really is bad out of context but the full quote makes a bit more sense for me. it's not him completely disregarding money is a factor the way other people are making it seem. we can argue about how honest he's being about the importance of the prize money in his decision making, but i also feel like this is a bit of a "damned if you, damned if you don't" situation? i definitely don't expect him to outright say he played solely for the money (although that wouldve been funny lol). if anything, he could've worded it better and clearer, but i don't think it's his fault people are quick to latch onto a soundbite.

that being said, sports washing is 100% a big problem in tennis and critique towards all six of them is deserved for participating especially when they... didn't need said money in the first place? on top of that, hearing a millionaire athlete brush off that amount of money (albeit unintentionally) will put a bad taste in anyone's mouth 😭 god knows anyone would love to be in his position and have $6M just be available for the taking!

[suhasini123]

Data science is an interdisciplinary field that combines various techniques, tools, and methodologies to extract valuable insights and knowledge from data. Datamites is an organization that offers various courses and training programs in the field of data science, artificial intelligence, and machine learning.