#Google Business Profile for small businesses

[dipakpaneruofficial]

https://dipakpaneru.com.np/blog/

[bloggerkey]

Google My Business (GMB) क्या है और यह क्यों ज़रूरी है?

डिजिटल युग में व्यवसायों की ऑनलाइन उपस्थिति का महत्व बढ़ गया है। अब लोग घर बैठे ही इंटरनेट के माध्यम से किसी भी प्रोडक्ट या सर्विस के बारे में जान सकते हैं। इसमें Google My Business (GMB) एक अहम भूमिका निभाता है। GMB एक मुफ्त टूल है, जो छोटे और बड़े व्यवसायों को गूगल पर अपनी जानकारी प्रस्तुत करने का अवसर देता है। GMB का उपयोग कर आप अपने व्यवसाय के बारे में ऐसी महत्वपूर्ण जानकारी साझा कर सकते…

[thesimplycity]

Listing Management | The SimplyCity

The SimplyCity is the multi-location marketing platform designed to expand your reach and attract high-intent customers. With our expert local search optimization, you’ll be found by those ready to buy.

Customers searching in Google Maps know what they want to buy. The organic search traffic offers huge returns with organic growth.

We get you in the top listing space, driving more people to click on your website, call your store, and buy from you. o improve your company's reputation, we implement targeted strategies that build trust and online visibility across major platforms like: Trustpilot Yelp Google Maps Apple Maps Bing Tripadvisor Facebook

Visit: www.thesimplycity.net

[memonikarawat]

SEO Tips for Small Businesses

Optimizing SEO for small businesses, integrating three essential G-Suite tools is imperative: Google Analytics, Google Search Console, and Google Business Profile.

[affordableseofl]

SEO Marketing For Your Website - #affordableseo #AffordableSEO, #AffordableSEOCompany, #AffordableSEOTampa, #Clearwater, #ContentMarketing, #DigitalMarketing, #Ecommerce, #Google, #LocalSEO, #Marketing, #MobileFriendly, #NAP, #OnlineMarketing, #SearchEngine, #SEO, #SEOClearwater, #SEOCompany, #SEOExpert, #SEOFirm, #SEOTampa, #SEOTips, #SmallBusiness, #Tampa, #TampaSEO, #Technology, #Tips, #WebMarketing, #Website - https://www.affordableseofl.com/2023/08/15/seo-marketing-for-your-website/

[kingkatsuki]

That bookshop, florist, bakery post going around made me think about this. Im gonna write something about all of them, but first I was thinking about owning a florists where Dynamight is your best customer.

Thinking about Pro-Hero Dynamight who is still very much a bachelor in his late twenties, and his PR team decide it’s time to try to fix his crass image by setting him up on a date with a famous influencer online.

Bakugou’s got no idea what she does, outside the few photos he was provided by his team and the videos that Sero sent him after he broke the news over beers that weekend. Needless to say he’s not happy with the situation, but with another negative story all over the front pages of tabloids and circulating the internet he’s got no choice but to try and fix the mess he landed himself in.

So he turns up at your quaint little flower shop close to closing time, the small bell ringing to signal his entry as you look up from the flowers you’re preparing to take home for yourself for the day. Eyes widening in surprise when you see the Pro-Hero Dynamight standing in your tiny shop in full hero costume. He mumbles that he needs to buy some flowers, and you’re trying to help him pick a bunch. Asking whether it’s for a birthday, celebration or maybe a gift for his mother.

“How about that one?” He points to the flower arrangement you’d just finished wrapping for yourself as you smile.

“Maybe she’d prefer a different combination if it’s for a first date?” You know a lot of the flowers arranged in your bouquet aren’t often favourites, “Maybe some carnations, or even a single rose?”

“Nah, they’re perfect.” He slams some notes onto your desk, far more than is necessary for the arrangement as you hurry to try and give him his change. But he’s already out the door, waving you off as he fists the flowers in a gloved palm.

The sight has you smiling as you watch him through the window, carrying the flowers at the end of his large grenade, following behind him to lock the shop for the night.

And you don’t expect him to come back, but he does. This time asking for different arrangements as you smile and ask if the date went well (which clearly it did if he’s asking for more flowers). Trying to ignore the ache in your chest as though you’d ever stood a chance in the first place as you busy yourself with making the arrangement he requested. Feeling his crimson gaze sear into you as you begin to wrap and tie the flowers, handing them off to him as he once again pays you far more than twice what they’re worth.

Dynamight quickly becomes your best customer, unbeknownst to him keeping you in business even when times are hard and your rent is overdue. Even coming in for flowers for his mothers birthday and Mother’s Day.

You hate the morbid curiosity that eats at you when you google his name, wanting to see the woman that he’s gifting the flowers to (as you wish it was you), and when you scroll through them on social media it looks like she really was the one to tame Pro-Hero Dynamight and have him settle down.

There are days Bakugou just comes in to see you, telling you that your shop is on his patrol route (even though he’s detoured six blocks away from it to get here) just to ask about your day.

The irony that he’s been forced into a high profile relationship to boost his ratings when he feels like he’s found all he’s looking for in a quaint little flower shop in Musutafu. He wants to tell you how he feels, that he hasn’t been gifting these bouquets to her and they’re instead blooming around his apartment. The scent of them reminding him of you at every second, allowing him to fool himself that you’re there with him. But he can’t.

The contract he signed burns through his skin as he regrets ever signing the stupid piece of paper, and he’s so close to the number one position he can taste it. The only issue is now the influencer is trying to push for proposals and engagements, and he’s still not number one.

His PR team assure him that the plan is working, that he’ll hit the number one spot and then the break up will be amicable on both sides.

So instead, he just keeps buying flowers.

But as he lies awake in bed at night staring at the ceiling, he wonders whether that’s even want he really wants anymore.

Because now all he can think about is you.

[venerawrites]

Hello!

Would you have any ideas or headcannons for a gn!reader, who is a florist, has a crush on Viktor but doesn't know how to express it? I have a feeling it could lead to some funny misunderstandings... Maybe even Viktor finding flowers randomly on his doorstep...

author's note: guess who's back? recently, I had the inspiration to write again and this is such a cute request, I just had to start with this one! Thank you for requesting and more importantly for your patience! <3

P.S - also I have 0 idea about the meaning of flowers, so if any of these don't make sense, blame Google. <3

If not for Jayce, Viktor would probably live in the lab. His routine usually consisted of arriving early in the morning and leaving almost at midnight, long after everyone had gone home. In his mind, there was no point in going out - not only it was a struggle for him to move freely around the busy streets of Piltover, but he also had 0 interest in being anywhere BUT the lab. What else could be more important (and exciting) than working on the Hexcore after all?

He soon learned that for his friend and partner, Councillor Medarda's birthday WAS in fact more important than working for the future of Piltover. And while he stubbornly refused to join him in his hunt for an appropriate present, on the third day of Jayce's begging and pulling the "we are not only partners, we are brothers" card, he reluctantly agreed to accompany him to the nearby market.

They have been going from stall to stall for almost an hour now and Viktor was far from happy. His leg was hurting and Jayce kept asking him for his opinion about dresses and perfumes and all these stuff both of them had no idea about.

In the end, Jayce ended up with two bags full of different objects as he "could not really choose". "Great, now to the flower shop!", smiled the tall man, gently nudging his partner in the ribs. "You've got so many presents already, why would you go to ANOTHER shop?", asked Viktor with a sigh, already knowing there was no point in arguing with the other male. He stood up from the bench he was sitting on, clenching his teeth once he felt the muscles in his leg spasming. "Women love flowers", pointed out Jayce as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He paused for a few seconds, before furrowing his brows and looking at his partner almost unsure. "Right?" Viktor sighs, debating if he should say what he really thinks or what Jayce wants to hear. Finally, he decides on the latter. "Right."

Viktor hasn't really kept in touch with anyone from the Academy so seeing you, his old classmate, working as a florist was an unexpected, but pleasant surprise. After a brief chat, interrupted every so often by Jayce, who kept asking different questions about the numerous flower options in the shop, you agreed to catch up for a coffee on the weekend.

But one coffee "date" soon became two and just within a few weeks, it was a ritual for both of you to meet at least two times per week.

For Victor, it was nice having a friend other than Jayce. In a way, speaking with someone who was not involved in science or Hexcore was almost a relief - it gave him the opportunity to speak about topics OTHER than work, such as hobbies and everyday life.

For you, however, what started as just catching up with an old classmate soon turned into... more. You always thought Viktor was a charming man - even during your Academy days - but you never really got to know him, as he always had his nose buried in textbooks. But the more time you spent with him now, the more fascinated you became with his wit, knowledge, and humour.

It is not a surprise you fell fast AND hard for him. But did he feel the same? It was hard to tell. He wasn't the type to openly flirt, but you have noticed small things such as the way his cheeks became a light red colour every time you accidentally brushed hands or the way his gaze studied your profile every time he thought you were not looking. He also always seemed to listen attentively to everything you were saying and often tried to stir the conversation toward you and your interests, rather than him.

Unsure how to "test the waters", you decided to show your affection the best way you knew how - with the language of flowers.

At first, you tried to leave hints secretly. You would leave a few fresh ranunculus flowers at his front door on your way to work, or drop sweet peas at the reception of his work, asking the doorman to deliver them in the lab during his lunch break.

Despite being one of the smartest men in Piltover, Viktor's ability to read clues was pretty much non-existent. "I think someone is targeting me", he said in a hushed voice one afternoon while you walked in the park together. You raised a brow, confusion, and worry written all over your face. He seemed almost reluctant to share more, but as you continue to stare at him, he adds with a sigh: "I keep receiving these... flowers. At my house, at my work... I think they are a sign someone is after me. Have you ever read the book "The Rose Symbol"? In it, the killer sends flowers to his victims as a warning before he strikes", he scratched his chin, completely oblivious to the way your eyes widened and your face became completely red. "And interestingly, Jayce does not receive anything... so whoever it is, they must have a knowledge of my work specifically. They are trying to stop me from developing the Hexcore."

Needless to say after this "admission", you stopped leaving flowers for him, too ashamed of the fact none of your clues were picked up, and also scared of the possibility that you may somehow make him more paranoid.

Unknowingly to you, your attitude around him changed too - you were somewhat more reserved and you started to find excuses as to why you cannot hang out with him. While you did not do it on purpose, deep inside you did feel the need to put some distance between you, especially for the sake of your own feelings.

Viktor may be blind to hints, but the sudden tension in your relationship did not escape him. It did not take long for him to put two and two together and realise that "coincidently" the flowers stopped coming after he shared his "worry" with you.

Two weeks passed since your last meeting and Viktor decided it was time to "confront" you by dropping unannounced by your shop. And for you, it was definitely a surprise to find him in front of the shop's door after closing hours, clutching a bouquet of red tulips close to his chest. He didn't even greet you, before shoving the flowers in your face, a bright red colour covering his cheeks. "For you...", he mumbled, his eyes glancing at you, before moving away just as quickly. You quirked a brow, looking at the flowers, before tilting your head to the side. "I ... Thank you!", you smile, confusion written all over your face, "What is the occasion?" Viktor stayed silent for a moment, before clearing his throat. "I know you were the one leaving me flowers. And I wanted to say I do reciprocate your affection", he recited seriously, almost as if he had practiced this sentence hundreds of times. The rosy colour on your cheeks now spread all over your face to the tip of your ears. "Oh.."

Viktor did not say anything more about it, instead offering to accompany you on your way home. The walk was filled with laughter and awkward jokes, and the tension, that had formed between you during the past few weeks, quickly started to melt.

Slowly, your relationship started to rebuild, but this time something was different. While you quickly fell back to your old habits of spending afternoons and weekends together, you also started to get physically closer - small brushes of your fingers, which after a while started to wrap around each other; long gazes into each other's eyes; shy smiles, every time any of you made a bad attempt at a flirty joke.

As someone who had only one short-term relationship in the past, Viktor would take things very slowly, but it will be very obvious he does like you (even when it takes him months to actually admit it to you and ask you on an official date!).

cc artwork: Neil Ross

[ghcstao3]

french ghost making a return because. well i don’t have a reason just because. but this one’s a proper AU

anyway johnny taking a vacation in the south of france just… to get away from things for a while. it’s been a month or so since a bad break up of a long term relationship, and he felt like he might implode if he didn’t do something.

the problem is, he hardly speaks french. barely enough to get by with simple phrases, certain his pronunciation is horrible. but even so, he makes the stupid decision of setting up a dating profile with a google-translated bio just to see… just to see.

that’s how he meets simon. somehow, through (surely) poorly-translated texts, they get to know each other in brief, until johnny says fuck it and agrees to a date far too quickly because he has nothing better to do.

even if it goes horribly wrong when he has to admit to not knowing french—whether or not simon knows any english.

johnny sits nervously at the small, local restaurant that had been chosen, wringing his hands in wait for simon. he had gotten there too early, he knows, but he needed that push or else he might not have come at all. but then simon arrives, even better in person than the photos of his own profile.

simon joins johnny with a shy smile on his face, greeting him with a quiet salut before… continuing in english.

if johnny weren’t so blindsided by its use, he knows he’d be absolutely enamoured with simon’s accent. instead, he sits wide-eyed, staring at simon while his heart pounds in his ears.

“how did you know?” johnny eventually manages to ask.

simon laughs softly, a fucking wonderful sound. “i could tell from your messages,” he says. “but i didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

from there, the night goes smoothly (more than smoothly, in fact, being that it ends with johnny in simon’s bed… but that’s his own business)—they chat about any and everything, simon teaches him a few words and phrases, and johnny tells simon about his home, why he’s in france.

they spend nearly the entirety of the rest of johnny’s trip together—johnny doesn’t think he’s ever felt a connection with anyone like this before, not even with his previous ex. it’s bitter when he eventually has to leave, having to bid simon farewell without ever knowing if they’d see each other again, if this could ever be anything more than a holiday fling.

(they will meet again though, of course. after all, johnny still has to learn french somehow. and what better way than through experience?)

[sillyvampireboi]

Armand kidnapped my Siri! ao3

Summary: Even though he is the super mega famous vampire rockstar, Lestat de Lioncourt. Who loves messing up and getting involved in human lives and stealing hearts of millions, the innovations of technology are not an easy thing even for him to conquer. 

contents: not beta read, nothing series here I was just having fun, LouisxLestat, ArmandxDaniel, attempt at humor, modern era

a/n: A disclaimer here: I can’t speak French! Every French sentence or word that is in this text, is translated by google translate. I wanted to include that funny detail that whenever Lestat becomes too angry he switches to French. If you can speak French and they don’t make sense at all, please let me know and I’ll correct them<3 

Also idk on which floor Louis lives. It was just a wild guess. 

I love Armand and Daniel so much hihi 

This whole plot is thanks to @giosnape and me joking around~ 

~English is still not my first language ~ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun slowly disappeared behind the tall, modern buildings of the city, the desert-like heat subdued to a chilly, warm temperature. Deep below at the foot of the cold towers, mortal life continued to carry on. Tiny cars and even tiner figures continued their journey like small ants in a forest. However, high in the sky, their humming noise did not pierce through the dark air. An other, intimidating and furious noise echoed through the clouds. 

Somewhere around the 50th floor lived Louis de Point du Lac, who gave the mortal world the knowledge and rules of vampires with his eternal lover and companion, Lestat de Lioncourt. The screaming and growling came from the rockstar, who had a “disagreement” with his electronic device for the fourth time this evening. 

“Hey Siri, I said open Spotify.” 

“ I’m sorry. I did not catch that.” 

“I. Did. Not. Asked. You. To. Catch. Anything. Just open Spotify!” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” 

“Open it tu es stupide1— “ 

Ah yes, Spotify. Lestat’s favourite application on his iPad, thought Louis as he was watching him getting increasingly angrier by the minute. However, Louis didn’t understand why he kept insisting to use the free version of the application. He sat through mindless advertisements with the most pitiful expression on his face. Of course, Louis offered to buy the premium for him, but he refused, stating that he “deserved this hell”. Whatever it meant. 

They were in Louis’ spacious living room, with the windows opening towards other skyscrapers and providing a view to the busy below world. Both of them were sitting on the new, colorful sofa, in the middle of the room.

“Hey Siri, change your language to French.”

“I cannot.” 

“Do you insult my intelligence?!” Barked Lestat. At this point he was getting pinker and pinker in the head, all of his veins pumping the sweet blood he drank this evening into his face. 

“Espèce de morceau de brique ! Quand je te dis de me parler français, tu me parles français!” 2

Louis found all of that amusing, seeing his husband getting so unreasonably furious over such a minor thing was the reason he let that go on for so long. Although he broke 15 iPads this week and it was only Wednesday, so as enternating as it was, he thought it wiser to de-escalate the situation. 

“It’s not trying to insult you babe. It’s merely a simple technology, still growing in a child’s shoes.” - chuckled Louis. He couldn’t help but smile at his lover’s frustration. 

“Don’t tell me it’s simple technology mon cher!! It can speak, so tell him to speak French! It understands you.”

Two popular human expressions of this time appeared in Louis’ entertained mind: oh my god and ok boomer. He glanced at Lestat again. His golden curls framed his beautiful face, and his sharp yet soft profile was ruled by a burning rage. Here he was sitting, the Wolfkiller himself with Magnus’ and Akasha’s blood circulating in his dead, powerful body and arguing with an ai voice. Louis thought he saw everything during his endless life, but it turns out his companion is still full of surprises. 

“Lestat, I simply don’t have such a strong accent anymore. Don’t think much of it.” 

“But when YOU speak to him, he listens!” 

“It’s a programmed voice babe. It’s called technology, it doesn’t listen in the same sense as you or I listen.” 

“Programmed? By whom!?? Do you see? There is someone behind this and they do it on purpose! Je le savais!3” - Lestat rose with a strong animation in his long, elegant limbs, while his blue mirroring eyes burned with unrestrained hate.

“No Lestat, it’s not like tha—“

“I know you are listening! I hope you are having fun! Parce que ça ne durera pas longtemps.4” - He screamed into the poor screen of his sixteenth iPad, then he broke into a French cursing wave as he walked around the space, continuing to hiss at his iPad in his hands. 

“I will personally go to his lair and see that the gremlin is behind all of this!” 

“Gremlin? You mean Armand?”

“Oui! It must be him, no one else is capable of such evil doings.” — he snarled as he sprinted towards the open balcony, taking his iPad as “evidence”. 

“Lestat, listen to me. It’s not Armand. It’s the program.” — But in a blink of an eye, the rockstar’s all consuming air disappeared from the room, leaving Louis to his mirth. 

***

Armand and Daniel settled into a tiny but cozy flat outside the city center. Alright. It wasn’t any little apartment, it was Daniel’s on the other side of the globe. Armand insisted on it, saying he simply wanted to study the new environment. 

During this events filled evening, the couple was covered in a peaceful silence. Daniel, now being a vampire and not needing to rest, was working on his new book: The Vampire Lestat. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard filled the apartment and the gentle evening breeze carried it towards Armand. The ancient one liked nights like this one. He found comfort in the domesticity of it. 

While Daniel was consumed with his work, Armand was occupied with his iPad, the same as in any other hour of the day. He was murdering the villagers in a new Minecraft server, now being bored of exchanging materials with them, when suddenly the window broke and something forcefully entered the flat. A gush of wind it felt at first, bringing a feeling of dread with it. 

A tall shadow loomed over Armand, as he was sitting on his favourite sofa, and spoke with a voice strained with emotion. 

“I hope you enjoyed your little play, Armand. But what is enough is enough!” — the towering gloom was Lestat in a state of total distress. His usually perfect locks were tingling around his neck and face like Medusa’s poisonous snakes. His eyes burned with rage, drinking in all the shades from the room. 

The boyish figure looked up at him with huge questioning eyes, way too slowly for the blond’s nerves. His usually unreadable face was conformed with confusion. In his beige pants and dark shirt, the same dark coloured as his angelic curls, he looked as beautiful as ever. This innocence fueled the burning flames inside Lestat’s veins further, threatening an upcoming explosion. 

As he glanced away from his eyes, he saw the iPad in his hand.

“Agh! You see? You have an iPad. I knew you were behind this whole appeal!” — he grabbed Armand by the neck and yanked him up. His soft lips were still sealed with silence, only his eyes and face showed more and more confusion. He let himself be dragged towards the blond haired figure, letting his body gracefully loose. 

“Tell me how you do it!” 

“Do, what exactly? I don’t understand any of this.” — a slight annoyance slipped into his quiet voice as he continued to stare at Lestat. 

“You manipulated him on my iPad, with your mind tricks!” 

“You are as deranged as ever. If you have a problem with modern technology, take a walk to the Apple Store.”

“Apple Store? I don’t want apples! I want justice!” — bellowed Lestat into the heavenly face. 

Armand grew annoyed by the behavior of his formal love, so he punched him in the chest, flying him into the wall. 

A rage filled dance began between the two. Daniel, who left his work to investigate the first sound of chattering, now stood in the kitchen, observing their fight. He wore his accustomed expression of half sarcasm and half gayness, as he felt the presence of Louis besides him. 

“So this what decades old anger issues look like in person, huh?” 

“… yeah.” 

The reporter and his interviewed remained in the kitchen, watching the fight unfold, then softening somewhat. 

“It’s your fault.” 

“How is it my fault?? Just touch the gear sign and change the rules of your iPad!” — stated Armand, with obvious impatience in his voice. — “And leave Siri alone.” 

“Now you want to get Siri too??!! Espèce de méchant gremlin!5  You want to take him from me as well and tricking him into not understanding French?! ONLY I HAVE SIRI, you KIDNAPPED him from me!”

“No, I have my own Siri! Leave him alone! My love, Daniel, he wants to take Siri and my iPad! Daniel! Tell him to stop!” — Lestat jumped at Armand, trying to forcefully take his iPad from him, while he continued cursing him out in French and Armand calling out for Daniel’s help. 

“He learns something new every goddamn week, Louis. What will be next, accusing Armand of leaving negative comments under his YouTube channel? — signed Daniel tiredly. They were still standing in the kitchen, not even attempting to help the two iPad kids in the living room. 

“But he does leave negative comments.” 

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. He thinks all of his modern problems come from Armand.” 

“I admit he is overreacting a bit. But give him some time Daniel.” 

Daniel didn’t answer, just looked back lazily at the two ancient vampires, who were quarreling over their iPad as little mortal kids. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations: 

1 you stupid—

2 You piece of brick! When I tell you to speak French to me, you speak French to me!

3 I knew it! 

4 Because it won’t last long. 

5 You evil gremlin! 

[phoenix-eclipses]

Casting Love 0.7 -- Uprise

"I'm sure you are all awaiting the news of you first project with your partners."

Many yes's went around the room as the professor stood before everyone. You glanced to Kenma who was sitting beside you, gaze focused on his phone instead of the professor. You redirected your attention once your professor started speaking again.

"This project is meant to guide your direction throughout the remaining semester. You and your partner will make a fake business and your first step will be to make a website. You may change your business goal a total of two times throughout the semester but those changes must be reflected on your website as well. This website will serve as your portfolio at the end of the semester. Here is the rubric I will use to grade your websites."

He walked around, handing out yet another sheet of paper to everyone before heading to the front of the classroom.

"I will now present some examples from past classes for you to get an idea. Your first draft of your website will be due next Wednesday "

You looked back at Kenma who happened to be staring at the professor, a slight frown on his expression.

"Do you want to meet after class to start working on it?" you asked. All you got in response was a small shrug as he looked back at his phone, seeming to check a few things before sighing.

"Can't. I'll let you know when."

You gave a soft nod before looking back at the professor.

0.6 -- Masterlist -- 0.8

Notes

Once again, I love Kenma but there will be a lot of miscommunication <3

YN debated getting a career in graphic design because they used to make goofy posters for Oikawa and Iwaizumi but decided they didn't like being told what they could and couldn't do aesthetics wise so they let that go

This took longer than it should have because I was home alone with a 10 week old puppy for like- over a week

I already have a few ideas of the business they're gonna make :b

Do not come for me for any inaccuracies for business major stuff, I am a psychology major <3 many of the info I am trying to use is gonna be what google says

ALSO small update to Kenma's Kodzuken profile, I forgot I wanted him to be faceless so now the twt profile looks like this:

Taglist

@staygoldsquatchling02 @walllflowerrrsss @oyasumeii @rinnylvr

@bi-bi-papillon @ris-krispie @madiexuberant @giocriedpower

@lunavixia @singleandlonely @yuminako @from-mae @3lectraheart

@kodzusora @skycasin0 @scinclaitnoir

Fill out this form to be added!

[thesimplycity]

Google Maps Ranking | The SimplyCity

The SimplyCity is the multi-location marketing platform designed to expand your reach and attract high-intent customers. With our expert local search optimization, you’ll be found by those ready to buy.

Customers searching in Google Maps know what they want to buy. The organic search traffic offers huge returns with organic growth. We get you in the top listing space, driving more people to click on your website, call your store, and buy from you. o improve your company's reputation, we implement targeted strategies that build trust and online visibility across major platforms like: Trustpilot Yelp Google Maps Apple Maps Bing Tripadvisor Facebook

Visit: www.thesimplycity.net

[izicodes]

Hello! Do you have any advice on getting into freelance coding or remote jobs in the field? I'm having trouble with my current endeavors of applications and my current customer service job isn't doing me well enough to want to stay, so I'm hoping for progress sooner rather than later. Anything helps, thank you!!

Hiya 🖤

Thanks for reaching out with your question about getting into freelance coding or remote jobs. Making a transition can be challenging, but with dedication and strategic steps, you can definitely progress in your career.

Firstly, consider specializing in a specific field of computer science rather than trying to learn everything. This will help you become an expert in a niche, making you more attractive to potential clients or employers.

The big thing to look at is (1) what specific job do you want? Don't know yet? That's the first thing you need to find out. (2) Found the job you want? Go to this website "roadmap.sh" and click the job title you want and look at the roadmap to become it. (3) Have an idea of what you need to learn? Now study :)

Here are some extra key pieces of advice:

Public Code Repositories

Showcase your coding skills by contributing to public repositories on platforms like GitHub, GitLab, or others. This allows potential employers to see your projects and assess your coding abilities.

Online Certifications

Earn certifications from reputable online courses like Freecodecamp, Codecademy, or SheCodes (if you're a woman). Displaying these certifications on your LinkedIn profile adds credibility for remote work or even freelance work because then clients will trust your skills more if it's back up with evidence (projects and/or certificates).

Links: "Massive List of Thousands of Free Certificates" / "The Udemy courses I use" / "FreeCodeCamp" / "Codecedemy" / "SheCodes" / "Udacity" / "Coursera" / "Google"

LinkedIn Profile

Revamp your LinkedIn profile to reflect your job title. Use a title that aligns with your dream job, and highlight your skills, certifications, and projects. You don't even need work experience OR do what a lot of my developer mates do have no work experience and set your "job" as a self-employed freelance developer... little cheat there~!

Links: "LinkedIn Career Explorer" / "Tips for speaking to/reaching out to Recruiter" / "Tips for Landing Your First Entry-Level Developer Job" / "Career Services for Web Development" / "The Talent Cloud Community: Careers Workshop"

Volunteering

Help someone out with a project for their business or whatever. For example, I helped a guy I met in a programming discord server build his portfolio page for free, but I care more about the experience. Search online for volunteer jobs with your dream job title e.g. Volunteer App Develope, but in your country would be better. The experience you can you can add to your LinkedIn. the project you work on you can add to your resume/experience.

Link: "SkilledUp Life"

Networking

Connect with professionals in your field on LinkedIn, even if you don't know them personally. Growing your network can open up opportunities and expose you to valuable insights. Events in person or online, servers (I found volunteer opportunities here), forums, Twitter (I found some mates on there), Instagram (another place I found developer friends). Networking can even help with building group projects~!

Link: "Tips for speaking to/reaching out to Recruiter"

Project Building

Work on both small and big projects to demonstrate your capabilities. Highlight these projects on your resume and portfolio.

Links: "Building projects after learning a new concept advice" / "Tips from learning using multiple resources" / "Tips on learning programming with ChatGPT" / "Harvard University Free IT Courses" / "The Udemy courses I use" / "Free Programming Books" / "Coding Advice for beginners" / "800 free Computer Science classes"

Online Presence

Share your learning progress and projects on various platforms like Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn, or YouTube. Employers often appreciate candidates who actively showcase their work and commitment to learning. I made a post for Tumblr coding blogs:

Link: "Codeblr Blog Advice: 8 Blog Coding Post Ideas"

Good luck!!

[i-am-vita]

Fic inspiration: that time you met Mihawk for the first time

Based on my OPLA oldermenxfemreader headcanons pseudo fanfic here.

Me thinking what would be a proper technique to distract Mihawk before stealing his cross as a last resort.

*Wild guitar strings appeared*

Oh...

.

.

The probability of a Warlord walking to any ball, specially one in honour of the Marine, was low but never zero.

.

Well, fuck.

That would undo all your timing and ruin the entire operation. Who knows when will you have another opportunity to infiltrate the Hacienda this easy.

Your crew is so efficient and low profile that the Marine have connected you to just a handful of the real amount of your thieveries through the years. You were sure if the World Gobernment realize how much fuck up they really were thanks to the Phantom Pirates, your bounties'd be thripled.

And neither of you wanted that.

So the red dress it was.

.

With the corner of your eye, you managed to catch a glimpse of Raoul coming inside the room, the Host mere steps behind with his butler whispering in his ear. Your eyes found those of your maid-disguised crewmate, Carlotta, and gave her a small nod.

The clock was running from now on.

"May I have this dance, my lord. Kill some time before your business meeting?"

.

The waltz came to it's end with both of you managing to maintain a proper pose and distance despise the intensity of his stare awakening a desire for nearness.

Over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw Raoul making a circular move with his hand, signing you to keep going.

You noticed the Warlord's eyes scaning the crowd, no doubt looking for the butler who would take him to his meeting at the office currently being robbed by your crewmates.

Time for the big guns.

"Would you care to try something more... robust, my lord?"

"Do you feel an equal to the task, my lady?"

You gave him a wink and signal for a maid who approached you, whispered her something and sent her to the small orchesta near the corner.

You guided Dracule to the center of the emptying dance floor, your arm extended to his with only your hands touching... until the first strings of guitar and brass wind instruments started.

.

.

.

To be continued...

A little excerpt from what I've been working on. I just need to learn how to write a proper dance scene.

And discover how one convinces Mihawk to dance at all in a public setting.

Let's start talking wine, that's sounds legit *googling wine puns*

Read fic here

[gaysindistress]

When Night Comes - thirteen

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: the feels, cursing, Alix being terrible 

word count: 2.9k

twelve | masterlist

tag list:   @elizacusi-blog @mal-adaptive-dreams @thebuckybarnesvault @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @buckybarnessimpp @vonalyn @cakesandtom

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

For a house full of blood-sustaining beings, there is food being made at any given moment. Strange, yes, but with both Wyatt and Y/N, it only made sense to have food available. 

When they’d arrived at the estate, a host of people were there to maintain it while Bucky was away. In efforts to keep a low profile, he’d dismissed almost everyone but a handful. The only two that Y/N comes into contact with are the cook, Ana Cristina, and the housekeeper, Luca. There are two other young men who she sees outside but they never venture close enough to the estate’s guests to talk. 

Ana Cristina is puttering around the kitchen, wicker basket in hand, and muttering to herself as she checks over the kitchen’s inventory. Y/N catches glimpses of her rich green skirt that is hidden beneath an embroidered black apron as she moves around. Stray steel gray hairs float from under her matching headscarf but the elderly woman doesn’t seem to notice. She mumbled something in Romanian under her breath as she set the basket down to pull on a black sweater. In doing so, Ana Cristina catches Y/N watching her from the kitchen doorway. 

“Dragă,” she chuckles as she gestures for Y/N to come in, “Are you hungry?”

Y/N shakes her head and timidly walks into the other woman’s domain. The many instruments of Ana Cristina’s craft line the walls and ceiling even of the stone room. She comes to stand next to the long wooden table that acts as an island and marvels at the array of food before her. Bread of all kinds is alongside freshly picked fruits and vegetables while packaged meats sit, awaiting to be prepared for later. 

Busy consumed with the painting before her, Y/N doesn’t notice that Bucky has taken her place in the doorframe. He opts to hang back, leaning on the wood with his arms crossed so the two women can talk without him. 

“Ana Cristina,” Y/N begins as she plucks a plum from a basket of fruit, “can I ask you something?” 

The cook nods. 

“What does dragă mean? Bucky calls me that sometimes and I haven’t been able to figure it out. I’m assuming it’s not anything bad if you call me it too,” she starts to ramble but Ana Cristina interrupts. 

“My dear or darling, either one really.”

“Oh.”

Ana Cristina raises an eyebrow at her short answer, “Were you expecting something else? My love perhaps?” 

Y/N looks at her startled, “What? No. I… no that’s it.”

“I may be old but I’m not blind. I see how you look at each other, longing eyes and yearning. It was cute at first but now,” she drifts off before setting her sharp gaze on Y/N, “there’s something more. He is as skittish as a fox and in the many years I’ve worked for him, he has never brought anyone outside of his family here, to his home. You being here means more than you could ever know. I tell you this not because I’m trying to scare you but to ask you to be gentle with him. He is strong but when that man loves, it’s deeply and in the most profound ways. I trust that you’ll do right by him.” 

She finishes with a small smile and a soft pat on Y/N’s hand which is still holding the plum. Her gaze moves to something behind Y/N and she’s gone, skirts swishing out the back door before Y/N can ask who she’s looking at. 

Dread and embarrassment fill her body when she turns and spots Bucky behind her. She quickly turns back around so he can’t see how utterly horrified she is that he heard what Ana Cristina said and suggested. 

“I see you got the parent talk from her,” he teases as he walks to the other side of the table, “Although it’s more of a grandma talk coming from her.” 

Dressed in a blue sweater and jeans, Bucky is still a vision of desire to Y/N. If the previous conversation hadn’t been enough to embarrass her, she can see that he senses her body’s reaction to him by the way he takes deep, regulating breaths. 

“You could say that,” she says, voice cracking ever so slightly. 

His ring catches the light from the window above the sink as he drifts his hand over the same fruit bowl she’d picked her plum from earlier. Once again, she’s mesmerized by the sharp angles and smooth planes that encompass the thick central onyx stone. Simple in its design, the intimidation and captive effect it has come from the confidence that Bucky wears it with. 

Noticing she’s fixated on it, he offers up a tidbit of information to lure her into a more in-depth conversation, “I was told it’s supposed to help with self-control and protect me against negative energy.” 

She makes a confused face, but it falls when she processes that he’s talking about his ring. 

“It’s not like a sunlight ring?” 

“A what?” 

“A sunlight ring. Like a ring that protects you from the sunlight.” 

It’s his turn to make a confused face, “Are you suggesting that I will spontaneously combust if I go outside?” 

“ It’s a part of every vampire story. You can’t blame me for getting that part wrong.” 

“ Well, I’m not a vampire so,” he shrugs off the idea and takes a bite out of a plum much to her surprise. 

“It’s the same thing; vampire and Strigoi.” 

“ no, it’s really not. Vampires don’t exist.” 

“I thought up until three months ago that Strigoi didn’t exist either.”

“ Maybe if you had taken me up on that date, you’d have known sooner,” he suggests, looking her dead in the eye to gauge her reaction. Instead of taking the bait, she rolls her eyes and returns to looking at the kitchen in all its glory.

“ Would you like me to make you something?” 

“Do  you even know how to cook?”

“I’m starting to worry about where you got your information about me because whoever it was, did a terrible job.” 

“Considering no one has really told me anything, I blame you.”

His tongue pokes at his bottom lip, “You haven’t asked and I'm not in the habit of offering up information.”

She looks him up and down, “That much is apparent.” 

A beat passes as they stare each other down. Y/N wrinkles her nose at his defiant attitude and busies herself with anything but him. 

“I was human at one point and I had to feed myself, so yes I know how to cook.” 

“Now he talks,” Y/N teases from over her shoulder as she reads over the various spices on the wall opposite of them, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Bucky gets to work at impressing her with his cooking abilities. He gathers a variety of ingredients he will no doubt be lectured about taking without asking Ana Cristina. As he begins his prep, Y/N finds a well-loved wooden stool and moves it to the table so she can sit and watch him. Content with being given an unadulterated view of him, she watches in amazement as Bucky finds peace in his work. The movements of prep and analyzing the ingredients before him seem to bring him a calm he doesn’t enjoy often. A part of her yearns to know who taught him to cook, to know who instilled this apparent love of food into a foodless creature. The lack of conversation leads her down a different mental path and a voice nags at her to interrogate him about other things. 

“How much do you know about me?” 

“As much as you would think,” He throws back, unphased by her sudden voice. 

Seeing a challenge, she decides to test him even more, “what’s my favorite color?” 

“Blue.”

“Wrong, it's yellow.”

He gives her a confused look. 

“It compliments my skin better. What am I allergic to?”

“You say Avocado but you just don’t like the texture,” he rattles off as he begins to chop some radishes and carrots. 

“What am I really allergic to?”

“Mangos and kiwis.”

“Did you read my medical records, Jesus?” She says with complete shock at his rapid-fire answers. She drops her elbows to rest on the table so she can lean toward him ever so slightly. 

“I did.”

“Are you being for real?”

He shrugs, “Death by fruit platter doesn’t sound pleasant.” 

“How sweet,” her mind drifts to questions about him, “What’s your name?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Bucky.”

“Full name. It’s only fair.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

“How old are you?”

“So full of questions today,” he chuckles, “227.”

“You’re 227 years old but you have a very obviously modern name?” 

“Are you asking for my birth name, you creep?”

“Says the man who literally read my medical records,” she retorts, “When someone says full name, they typically mean the name you were given at birth.” 

“Ion Sava Bogdi Bucur.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“You asked,” he says, playfully waving his knife in her direction, “haven’t you learned to not ask questions you don’t want the answer to?”

“Touché,” she lets her gaze drift down his body as he goes back to his chopping. Her eyes wander to where his tattoos are hidden just beneath his tight black shirt. Curiosity grows like an infection and before she can cure it, the words tumble out,  “I like your tattoos.”

He pauses his knife and glances up from under his lashes at her with a small smirk, “Thank you.” 

More words jump up her throat at the small acknowledgment, “What do they mean?” 

“A lot of things.”

“Like?”

He pulls at the collar of his shirt to reveal a series of runes that line both of his collarbones, “Eternal life is the grapevines, the eyes are protection, and the diamonds are fertility.” 

“Fertility?” 

“I just said that, didn't I?” 

She scoffs at his sass, “You are on one today, my god. I was clarifying to make sure l heard right.”

“Maybe,” he starts as he sets his knife down and levels his paralyzing gaze on her, “it’s because you look like THAT and it’s taking every ounce of strength I have right now to stay where I’m at.” 

Y/N freezes at his words, eyes going wide and breathing hitching in her chest. Panic isn’t the word for the feeling that is rising quickly within her but she knows that defining it for what it is would prove to be dangerous for her. When hunger grows in him, a NEED develops in her. 

“I'm just wearing overalls, I don’t see how tempting they can be.”

His gaze is unwavering as it takes down her form, “it’s not about the overalls.”

“Then what is it?”

“Leave it,” he drops his eyes back at the cutting board and goes back to his task, albeit neither his heart nor head are in it. 

Feeling brave now that she’s being pinned down, Y/N stands and keeps her own watchful eye on Bucky as she slowly makes her way to his side. Even though he’s not physically looking at her, she can feel him watching her every move. When she takes a step closer, he slows his knife movements and grips It tighter. When she rounds the end, he puts the knife down entirely to rest his hands on the edge. When she’s within arm’s length, he takes a deep breath but quickly regrets it as her smell overpowers him. 

“I want to understand,” she tries to persuade him into talking more, “how are baggy overalls and a tank top that tempting for you?” 

He gives her a pained look, silently pleading with her to leave it alone. Y/N doesn’t take heed and sets her hand on top of his. 

“Help me understand you.”

The pained look fades into one of disastrous relief when she touches him. He lets her trail her hand up his arm, savoring the domestic touch but stops her when she reaches his bicep. 

“I can’t… it’s hard to explain until you’ve felt it.” 

“Try at least.”

“There’s a pull to you that I can’t fight. It feels like there’s a string tied to the both of us and it won’t stop pulling on me. I thought getting closer to you would make it stop but it’s made it worse. The…the only time,” he trails off as he struggles to find the words, “the only time it stopped was when you let me drink from you but now it’s even stronger.”

She nods along as he speaks, drawing light patterns into his skin through his shirt with her fingertips to relax him. 

“It’s happened before… with Celeste.”

Her patterns stop, “did it go away?”

He hesitates, eyes darting across her face to find any reason to confuse this truth with her but he finds nothing. Curiosity and understanding are all that he finds in her breathtaking features and it kills him to even have thought of lying to her. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts and turns so he can look at her. Resting his hip against the table’s edge, he forces himself to stay open to her even if it feels like a deep violation of everything he knows. Vulnerability is required of him and Y/N deserves to see him try after everything she’s been through.

“After she turned. It didn’t go away, it…it felt like it was satisfied.” 

“The pull? Would bond be a better word?” 

“Maybe.” 

When he’d turned to face her, her hand had fallen away to give him space. Something in her cries out at the loss of contact and she takes a step forward to resume her pattern-making in his skin. Pushing her limits, she continued up his bicep and over his collarbone to trace over the tattoos he’d shown her moments ago. The Y/N mere weeks ago would’ve made fun of an eternal being with a fertility tattoo but the Y/N of today decides against it. 

She drops her hand to his chest and rests it there, “the man on your chest, who is he?” 

“Sava the Goth, he was the saint I was named after.”

She asks Bucky to tell her the story of the martyr and listens wholeheartedly as he recounts the tale his father always told him. The irony of both his pagan origins and orthodox endings strikes her as he speaks. Sava denounced the pagan and idolatrous ways of his captors only to be martyred for his beliefs hence why he became a saint. Y/N assumes that Bucky would be joyful in his retailing of the account however a sadness came in as it had when he spoke of the runes. It seems as though there is a deeper level to his connection with the runes but he doesn’t offer up more information as is his MO. 

“Would I be wrong if I thought your dad is the one who named you?” 

“What gave it away?”

“The very obvious religious trauma. No one gets religious tattoos unless they’re a devout follower or suffered at the hands of the church. That and Ana Cristina may have let it slip one time that your mom was a witch.” 

He chuckles lightly while he grabs her wrist that’s still resting on his chest and gives it an experimental tug, “Did she say anything else?”

Allowing him to draw her, Y/N wrinkles her nose and smiles, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

“No, no you need to tell me everything she told you,” Bucky says as he slyly maneuvers them so she’s pinned against the table. 

“It’ll cost you.”

“Name your price.”

“I want to see Celeste.”

“Isabel for the love of god, shut the actual fuck up,” Juliette snaps at the woman who’s been talking nonstop for the last two hours of their flight. 

She gasps in horror and looks to Alix for her to defend her however she’s met with a low chuckle. 

“Finally someone said it,” John laughs. 

Isabel shrinks into her seat and her face grows red with humiliation. Brock snickers at the ordeal while John and he go over ways to attack. Her sniffles start out unnoticeable until Alix makes a show of checking to see if she’s crying. 

“Awe,” she starts, wiping away the fat tears that roll down Isabel’s cheeks, “did Juliette hurt your feelings?”

She nods. 

“Juliette, apologize now,” Alix demands without looking up. 

The offending woman mutters a quiet and insincere apology. Satisfied that neither of the lower Lycan will be a bother, Alix gives her attention back to the men and their planning. 

“Kill everyone on sight. I don’t care if they’re Strigoi or not, I don’t want any survivors except for Y/N.”

John makes an alarmed face, “Isn’t Peggy’s kid there?” 

“No survivors,” Alix repeats. 

The tension in the small plane grows thick with the weight of her words. John looks to Brock who is mirroring his expression but neither even dares to argue with their pack leader. 

“Understood,” John forces himself to say. 

Even when their conversation moves forward, the words still hang above them all and they begin to internally question what they got themselves into. 

[blue-bujo]

Bowled Over (Roy Kent x Reader): Chapter Four

You work at a bowling alley and a young girl named Phoebe has a birthday party there. You catch her uncle's eye.

Roy Kent x female reader

Will try to update roughly every two weeks

Chapter Four: Feelings

(2.1k words)

Warnings: Roy Kent-level language (you know what you're in for), discussion of mental health (anxious/insecure thoughts)

Summary: You start to realize that maybe you’ve caught feelings when you can’t stop thinking about Coach Kent.

After the chaotic visit from AFC Richmond, you thankfully had a day off. You stayed in, not leaving your modest little apartment – no, flat, they were called flats here. You stayed in, not leaving your modest little flat and found yourself thinking again about Roy Kent.

How you had managed to touch his hands twice, you would never understand. Only you could be that awkward. But he could have handled it better. Running away like that didn’t fit his dark, moody persona. Even you knew that Roy Kent’s main dynamic when he’d played had been that of unbridled rage.

You randomly flipped your TV to Sky Sports for some background noise while you did a few chores. AFC Richmond was a fan favorite, so coverage often turned to them. In most clips, you could see Coach Kent shouting in the background. He was passionate, you had to give him that. It was interesting…

The comments that the little girl, Phoebe, and Jamie Tartt had made wouldn’t leave your mind. There was no way you could be considered even remotely fit, right? You were a bowler, for crying out loud!

But if there was attraction, it might explain the bizarre reactions. And the fact that he’d come back, yet hesitated to come inside. And the small talk before he left yesterday… Could he be attracted to you?

No. No way.

Something you hadn’t experienced in a long time was bubbling up to your chest. Butterflies. The joy of finally being wanted again. And by a footballer! If it was true, you’d never doubt anything again.

Reality soon crashed back down on you. You were a naturalized citizen working a low-paying job at a bowling alley. He was a high-profile figure with two decades in the sports world. Believing that he fancied you was a sweet daydream, but nothing more. A morning spent googling had shown you what his past experience with women was, and it was nothing like you.

Still, he had come back.

If he came back again, you’d consider the possibility that Roy Kent was interested in you.

The greyhounds were wrapping up another training, and their spirits were sufficiently recovered following their loss at Brighton. Montlaur was back off of the DL, but O’Brian was in for Zoreaux at goal until his sprained wrist healed. With their formation changed, Roy and Nate had been drilling them endlessly. Roy had let Nate lead; he didn’t want to overwhelm O’Brian, who hadn’t had so many minutes in goal for years. His mind was otherwise engaged, anyway.

After the bowling day, Roy Kent had given up on forgetting about Splits and given control to Just Roy. That Roy had been trying to come up with an excuse to go back, but everything seemed too desperate. Which he was, desperate for connection, but he didn’t want it to be so fucking obvious.

Today, though, as he saw one of the boys snapping a selfie halfway through training, inspiration struck. When he had first visited the bowling alley for Phoebe’s birthday, Splits had had to take the photo for the wall. She had been so busy when the whole team had been there that no picture had been taken.

Except Higgins had taken one to send to Ted in America.

Roy almost smiled, but caught himself. If he got the picture from Higgins, he could go back under the pretense of giving it to Splits. He’d wait until training was over, and then pay Higgins a visit. It was a perfect scheme. Fucking perfect.

Higgins, of course, obliged. Roy now had the excuse he needed. Tonight, he would go see Splits.

Two days after the chaotic visit from AFC Richmond, you had another shift at the bowling alley. Lettie, the owner and a woman you adored like a grandmother, was waiting so eagerly for you to clock in that you knew she had gossip, but you hadn’t guessed what it could be when she told you.

“There was somebody here to see you last night!” she practically buzzed. “You didn’t tell me you had a man these days!”

“I didn’t know I had one,” you answered, confused. “Who was he?”

“He said his name, but he sort of mumbled it, so I couldn’t properly hear him. But he specifically asked after you, and he seemed a bit disappointed when I told him you weren’t scheduled. I told him you’d be back today, and he perked up. At least, I think he did; he was so intense!”

You knew you had to interrupt Lettie or she would ramble forever. “What did he look like?”

“Oh, he was a handsome lad, but maybe a bit older? Dark and brooding, but shy; he hid in his eyebrows the whole time he was here. But that body! Built like an athlete, he was!”

“Lettie, stop, you’re married! What would Cecil say?” You laughed, but only partly at the older woman. Partly, it was nervous laughter. It sounded like she was describing Roy Kent. He had come back, and been disappointed when you weren’t there! The butterflies flared to life in your stomach.

“Did he say he was coming back today?” you asked, hoping you sounded casual.

“Well, he didn’t say it in so many words, but he nodded, and like I said, he did seem to perk up when I told him you were on today. I’ll be sure to be in the back when he shows up, so you can flirt with him properly.”

You couldn’t hide the blush that was rushing to your cheeks. Lettie was too much; she was always overly invested in everybody’s dating lives, and she’d be the first to admit it. She reached over and patted your shoulder encouragingly before she left with one word of advice.

“Let him pursue you, dearie. Nothing makes a lonely girl feel more valued than being pursued by a man.”

“Thanks, Lettie.”

You had a lot of time before the normal weekday crowd came in to ponder Lettie’s words. It was true that you were lonely, painfully so. You didn’t see yourself as desirable or interesting, and you hadn’t for a while. It was hard to see yourself as anything but bland. But when Roy Kent walked up to the front doors of your bowling alley, where would see him hesitating through the tint of the glass, you started to hope.

He seemed to by talking to himself. Maybe pumping himself up to approach you? That seemed to be the case, because when he stopped, he walked purposefully to the door and stepped inside, directly toward your counter.

“Welcome in!” you called as he approached. “What brings you back?” You hoped your tone was normal, despite the way your heart was currently beating in your throat. He was all in black today with an amazing leather jacket, and it was working for him.

He came straight up to you, as close as the counter and the register would allow. You kept your hands firmly planted on that counter, and like last time, his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

“I wanted to come back and give you a picture for the wall. You seemed fucking busy the other night and didn’t ask for one, but our team’s operations manager took one, and I have it if you want it.” Roy’s words seemed a bit rehearsed, you noticed.

Smiling, you replied, “You didn’t have to do that, Coach Kent.”

That apparently wasn’t the response he had been expecting, because it took him a moment to form his next sentence. “Of course I did. I didn’t want you to get in trouble for something you had no control over. We were a big enough group to be a proper fucking nuisance; this is the least I can do.”

He was holding back. There was a restlessness in the way he was standing, shifting his weight from side to side. It mirrored the way you were feeling. Behind Roy, you could see Lettie watching through her office window, motioning like she was pushing you or Roy forward. You twisted a ring on your right hand – an anxious habit of yours – and took your figurative step forward.

“I really appreciate the thought,” you said, noticing the way he stood a little straighter as he heard you, “and you will be saving me from a lecture later. Can I see the picture?”

Roy took his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it for you. It was a different angle than most of the celebrity pictures, shooting across several lane approaches. It layered the team, who were all looking up with impromptu, genuine smiles. It was the best picture you’d seen taken in your bowling alley.

“This is great!” you exclaimed happily. Then, motioning to your manager’s business card by the register, you added, “Can you email it to this address? That way my manager can have the joy of printing it out.”

Roy made a sound that seemed more like the clearing of his throat than one of the grunts you associated with him, and answered slowly. “Not to be too forward, but I was hoping I could text it to you?”

Stunned, you blinked. Had Roy Kent just asked you for your phone number? You heard yourself stammering like an idiot as you told him he could. Roy opened a new contact and held out his phone for you, which you took and tapped in your name and number before handing it back to him. He texted you the photo, and you added his contact to your phone. Then the two of you looked at each other.

The man in front of you was the first to break the silence; you were following Lettie’s advice and letting him do the work. He held your gaze with his dark eyes and didn’t break it.

“Look,” he said, “I really came here because I think you’re fucking fit, and I wanted to get your number so I could talk to you. If you’re not interested, just tell me now and I’ll leave you alone and go be a fucking idiot somewhere else. I’ll honor whatever you decide.”

He finished his speech and dropped eye contact to look down at his shoes. Your heart was beating so hard in your throat that you could barely swallow. You looked over his shoulder at Lettie’s office, where the old woman was giving you two thumbs up, and found your voice.

“I’m interested,” you said. “Really interested. Thank you, Coach Kent.”

Roy transformed in front of you. A massive smile stretched hugely across his face, hiding his eyes and dazzling you. He tried to stop it, but he wasn’t able to. He grinned at you uncontrollably.

“Fuck yeah! I’m so glad. But please, no more of this stuffy ‘Coach Kent’ bullshit. Call me Roy.”

“Okay, Roy,” you said, stuck in your own uncontrollable smile.

Lettie was clapping excitedly in the background, and Roy was oblivious. He finally managed to get some of his self-control back, and was smiling with closed lips, his eyes twinkling now that they were visible. You both looked happily at each other.

“Right, are you free in the next night or two?” he asked.

As quickly as you could, you opened the shift schedule on the computer. Roy was leaning on the counter trying to see it. You looked through the week’s calendar and huffed.

“I’m scheduled for the next three afternoon to evening shifts,” you told him. “The first I’m free is four days from now.”

“That’s not fucking ideal, but it’ll do,” the man said gruffly. “It took me almost that long to work out an excuse to come in here and ask you out. I can wait that long. Would you like to go out with me in four days? Just somewhere casual where we can get to know each other?”

You nodded. Roy Kent was asking you out!

He smiled that dazzling smile again. “Cheers! I’ll see you then. Until then, I’ll text you.”

His mission successful, he turned and strode to the doors beaming. Before he exited, he looked once more at you and gave you an awkward little wave, and then he was gone. Lettie immediately rushed out of her office and held you at arm’s length, studying you closely.

“Well?” she demanded.

“I have a date with Roy this week!” you squealed. Then you both hugged each other tightly and jumped up and down in celebration.

Tag list: @preciousbabypeter @harry-bowie-mercury @amieinghigh

[booiiee]

Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) × Female Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hyunjae is WHIPPED, They bicker- a LOT, they love each other so much, it's pathetic actually, eventual smut (duh), separate tags and warnings for smut in the smut chapter. MINORS DNI!!

For @un-love 🩷🩷

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Chapter 1

It's summer of 2024 you've just shifted your whole life to Brooklyn New York, a decision that you and your friends and family had to all collectively take, Brooklyn is expensive and people are rude sometimes but for the first time you're building your life

You love your job, not a lot of therapist can say that specially with how taxing the job can be, but you really love your job, you're one of the most loved therapist at Brooklyn's biggest hospital NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital (yes i googled that) and let's just say you earn enough to have an entire studio apartment to yourself, something that you've come to realize, you love.

Your job is many things but it is not a job where you have a lot of free time, it might even be busier than working at a fashion magazine like your friend Daisy does,some days she is the only reminder of your life back in your home country, and your love for kpop and a certain kpop idol- Lee Jaehyun from The Boyz.

“Miss Rose, the director wants to see you.” your thoughts were interrupted by your assistant Liz- or Elizabeth, informing you of your rather sudden meeting with the director. Now the old Jasmine would absolutely lose it over being called by the director but moving to a place like Brooklyn from India has made you indifferent to these small anxiety triggering things.

To say that you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The director had assigned you a patient of your busy (lazy) colleague, some VIP, whose case was “of utmost importance” to the hospital, which in itself was making you angry as if one life was worth more than the other. Nonetheless, you were gonna treat this patient like any other patient.

“Hi, Mr. Eric? I am Dr. Rose. I am taking over your case as of today, as informed. Please follow me this way” you introduce yourself to a tall man with freshly dyed brunette hair with a mask. He must be some high profile person given the way he was avoiding the stares from people.

R- You can keep the mask on until you feel comfortable to talk without them, our session can happen without you having to show your face.

E- Oh that is a relief thank you doctor.

R- So tell me Eric, what do you love doing when you are the most stressed and when you have a lot of leisure time?

E- Oh I thought you’d start with asking me my sickness

R- You say sickness like it is a bad thing

E- Is it not?

R- Well being sick is not great but it is not something derogatory.

*No one is born a patient and no one stays a patient till the end*.

*(From Daily dose of Sunshine)

As far as the questions go, if you’d rather me start with discussing your diagnosis, i am happy to do so

E- No its…its okay we can do your method.

I am skipping the actual therapy part because I am neither a licensed therapist nor a psych student to be writing that.

The 3 weeks you were assigned Eric’s case you found that against your better judgment, you guys were becoming almost friends, which is to say was weird in more ways than one. You were his therapist and you did not know what he looked like. You never asked him to take off his mask. He never mentioned why he prefers to wear one. So you decided you’d start and stay away from him in the hospital corridors when you often bump into each other after his session with your colleague.

E- I know we are not supposed to be friends and all that protocol, but you have really helped me in ways i could never explain and i am not the best person when it comes to gifts but i asked my friend j and he suggested this since you like to read- i've seen all those books in your office

Your gasp was audible to not only Eric but a few staff around as he pulled out a blue box. Eric quickly pulled you aside and for the first time, took off his mask.

R- You’re THE Eric?????

E- I mean I dont really say that about myself but i think you know me? Which is even better, so you know that i can afford this and im not robbing a bank for this gift, which also is not the case cause J bought this really-

R- Wait, I WILL not accept that, and give me a minute Wow! okay.

Eric, hi, I love your music and you'd understand when i say how weird this is to know my patient is a member of the group i love

E- aww doc you’re a fan. That makes me wanna be your friend even moore

R- Yeah, we’re gonna…we’ll talk about that later.

Wait, you're Eric from TBZ, so your friend J who often drops you to your session, the one who bought this SUPER EXPENSIVE gift, is J, Jaehyun? As in, Lee Jaehyun?

E- Yup you got that right! The one and only! In Fact he is on his way up, now that you’ve seen me, we can all talk comfortably

R- Oh No… no no, NO.

E- But why? Do you not like Hyunjae? *Gasp* Are you a hyunjae antiii??

R- WHAT???? NO! I could never hate my Hyunjae! not in this lifetime for suree!!!

“Well that’s good to know, Miss Rose”

You could identify that voice in a room full of noisy people, let alone the silence of the corridor, so you had no choice but to tun around and see a curly haired masked man smiling at you. Oh this is not good for your job.

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Chapter 2 will be posted super soon!!