#visitor tracking solution

[qwaiting]

Dive into our latest blog post where we uncover the essential components of an all-encompassing guide to visitor management systems. Learn about the key features, strategies, and best practices to streamline your visitor management process effectively.

[mantra-softech-india]

Work Flow of Visitor Management System

A visitor management system plays a vital role in securing the enterprise, identifying visitors to access appropriate areas, can build a highly secured network environment, and preventing risks of unauthorized access.

[antiquarianfics]

Soon You'll Get Better

Desperate people find faith. Bucky's desperate for you to get better, so, yeah, he'll pray to someone else's god.

a/n: anngssst. angst. so. much. angst. this is not happy at all. sorry. or maybe not. idk. enjoy and be sad.

warnings: profanity, illness, seizing, mentions of canon level violence, not really proofed

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Obnoxious beeping sounds from the monitors the doctors and nurses have you hooked up to, and the continuous noise is putting Bucky on edge. The super soldier clenches and unclenches his jaw, tightens and un-tightens his grip on the arms of his chair, and slowly blinks in some sort of weak attempt to ground himself. The beeping, the fluorescent lighting, the paleness of your skin: it’s all too much. It’s overstimulating and overwhelming. After all, you shouldn’t even be here.

Bucky raises his head up to the ceiling, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath, and when he looks back down, his eyes settle on the table next to your hospital bed.

A bouquet of flowers and a “Get Well” card sit there, mocking him. Next to that is a hug of water that he and the nurses have struggled to get you to drink from, and beside that, four or five orange pill bottles with your name on them alert him—and any visitors—that you’re unwell.

It’d been almost a month since he brought you to the hospital in a panic, your unconscious body limp in his arms. A raid on an old HYDRA facility had gone south, and an armed HYDRA operative had managed to get the jump on you, jabbing a syringe into your neck and poisoning you.

The doctors, poison control, the Avengers... no one had a clue what kind of poison coursed through your veins, weakening your immune system, draining your energy, and eating away at your muscle mass. For nearly a month, you'd only gotten worse; the doctor's were starting to talk about a feeding tube because you won't eat, and you're rarely awake.

If Bucky Barnes were to say he wasn't scared for your well being, he'd be lying. If he were to say he wasn't terrified you might die, he'd be perfidious. The fear—the trepidation—that consumes him? He feels it making him desperate for a solution.

Staring at the orange bottles next to your bed, Bucky finds himself transported back to his childhood—back to a day where he sat stiffly between his mother and sister in the pew, in an itchy suit, and did anything but listen to the words of the preacher at the front of the church. Yet, something about that memory, despite having never truly having been religious, Bucky finds himself clasping his hands together and his eyes settling on the ceiling.

"I might sound like an idiot," he says quietly, "but, hell, if you're up there—if anyone or any thing is up there—please, please save her. Please save my girl. I'm desperate. I'll do anything—anything. Just. Please."

"It always happens," a gentle, sympathetic voice breaks the deafening silence following Bucky's prayer. He turns his attention from the ceiling to the door where a young, 20-something nurse is entering the room.

"What?" He asks, voice gruff. He's aware he doesn't sound friendly, and he knows you'd scold him for it.

"The nonreligious start to pray when things stop looking good," she says, fiddling with the machinery that is tracking your vitals. She sighs. "Desperate people always seem to find faith, even for a moment."

Bucky hums in acknowledgement, slouching in his chair. He gets the feeling that if you were awake, you'd say something sarcastic like, "Hey, Buck! Hear that? You're acting like a normal person!" His lips uptick slightly at the thought.

"I prayed to Jesus, too," the nurse continues. "When my grandmama was sick."

"I feel like I'm screaming to a foreigner's god," Bucky admits. "Someone I don't believe in, but someone that someone else says can help. Not that I deserve help from any god, but she does."

The nurse nods in understanding. "Praying to someone else's god out of desperation is the purest expression of grief. It might not work, but, if you had any doubts, at least you know you love her."

The nurse finishes what she came to do, marks on your chart, nods to Bucky, and leaves. Bucky chews on the inside of his cheek as he lets his gaze settle back on you.

After a while, he scoots his chair closer to you and takes hold of your hand.

"Sweetheart, you're going to get better. You have to get better. Please. People need you. I-" Bucky chokes on his words and swallows before attempting to continue. "I need you. Please. You need to get better. You're going to get better. Soon. You'll get better soon. You'll get better." He repeats himself a few more times until his mouth becomes too dry to speak and he closes his eyes.

"I'll get better, soldier. Don't worry about me," you say, voice groggy as it breaks into his consciousness. He looks up at you quickly.

"Doll."

"Hi."

"You're awake."

"Mhmm," you hum, smiling softly.

He quickly stands to his feet. "Hold on, I'll get the nurse back in here."

Before you can protest, he has the nurse from earlier back in the room. She smiles at you as she enters.

"Rise and shine, sunshine!" The nurse greets. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad. Could go for a popsicle, though," you grin.

The nurse smiles as she double checks some things before leaving to go get you your popsicle.

"You know, I might be super fucking poisoned right now, but at least I get unlimited popsicles. I never get this many popsicles. I'm basically in heaven."

Bucky raises an eyebrow at your statement, but the way you smile at him, grinning from ear to ear, he can't help but smile back.

"If you wanted popsicles, you could've just told me. I would've gotten you some. You didn't have to go and get yourself poisoned," he says.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You open your mouth to respond, but before you do, your eyes roll back into your head, your mouth falls open, and your body starts to shake. Bucky stands to do something, but he's not quite sure what to do. Luckily, the nurse enters the room with your popsicle just in time.

"Shit!" She curses. She turns and yells out into the hall. "I've got a patient seizing in here!" In just a few seconds, she and a couple other nurses are lying you all the way down in the bed and taking care of your person. Bucky thinks he hears someone call for a doctor as another person escorts him out.

As Bucky stands in the hallway, watching helplessly through your room's window to where the medical personnel are helping you, he can't help but feel selfish. If they don't save you, what is he supposed to do? Who is he supposed to talk to? If there's no you, then what is his purpose anyway?

"Come on, Doll," he says. "You've got to pull through. You've got to get better. You promised. You got to get better soon. You have to."

[rideboomindia]

Please describe your company’s go-to-market strategy

Here is a detailed description of RideBoom's go-to-market strategy:

RideBoom's go-to-market strategy is focused on expanding its successful bike taxi service to additional cities across India. The key elements of their strategy include:

Target Market: RideBoom is targeting urban residents and visitors in cities with growing populations and transportation needs. They have identified cities like Agra, Kolkata, and Pune as prime markets for their bike taxi service [1].

Value Proposition: RideBoom's bike taxi service provides an efficient, affordable, and environmentally-friendly transportation option for short-distance travel in congested urban areas. It aims to alleviate traffic, reduce emissions, and offer a convenient mobility solution [1].

Pricing: RideBoom is offering competitive and affordable pricing for its bike taxi service to make it an accessible option for a wide range of customers [1].

Promotion: RideBoom is promoting its service through its mobile app, which allows users to easily book and track bike taxis. They are also offering promotional discounts for new users to drive initial adoption [1].

Sales and Distribution Channels: RideBoom is directly operating its bike taxi service in the target cities, leveraging a fleet of trained drivers. The service is accessible through the RideBoom mobile app, providing a convenient and accessible sales channel [1].

Scalability: RideBoom has a clear roadmap to continue expanding its bike taxi service to more cities in India, demonstrating a scalable and replicable go-to-market strategy [1][3].

Partnerships: RideBoom may explore strategic partnerships with local transportation authorities, businesses, or other stakeholders to further enhance its market reach and service offerings [3].

Overall, RideBoom's go-to-market strategy is focused on rapidly expanding its proven bike taxi model to new urban markets, leveraging its expertise, technology, and customer-centric approach to drive adoption and success [1][3].

[acerathia]

Grave Robbery || K. Bakugou

Summary:

What's the worst that could happen in a graveyard? Ask again after meeting a seasoned Pro-Hero.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Pro-Hero! Bakugou Katsuki / GN!Reader

Tags/CW:

no actual grave robbery, i promise. meet ugly, banter, pining, aged-up characters

Note:

Happy Halloween!! Inspired by actual people putting recipes on their gravestones <3

You have to admit, you don’t have a legitimate reason to be here, to be walking along the rows of gravestones, dust collecting due to the lack of visitors. But despite having no one to visit, you do have a very specific objective in your mind, one that explains your presence in this cemetery.

And the target of your search doesn’t take long to be found. You perk up upon laying your gaze on the exact sort of inscription you have been looking for and you step closer to decipher the words next to the corresponding numbers. Perfect.

A recipe for a cheesecake.

For a moment you just read the recipe and try to understand its instructions rather than just skim the most important details. After you make sure you’re understanding this properly, you pull out your phone and take a picture of the stone, of course including the name of the person. That way you can honor them properly.

With the recipe secured, you continue your stroll through the row, walking past a couple of lone people visiting their friends and family. On your walk, you almost bump into a blond man as he seems to be almost filling the whole narrow way with his build. But you manage to dodge before any contact happens, and he barely shoots you a glance. So it seems you won’t be causing any problems today.

On the way out you spot a couple more potential gravestones, but as you only take one recipe per visit, out of respect, because you want to take your time to enjoy their respective recipe. So you only end up greeting the dead as you pass, memorizing the space they occupy, keen on visiting on a later date.

With these future meetings, you leave the graveyard, looking forward to trying this newly acquired recipe. Hoping that you’re able to manage the sweet treat like it’s supposed to be, as close to the original as possible with only the dead guiding you.

So it took you a couple of weeks to return, because you needed the time to perfect the cheesecake, and of course to avoid any suspicion, even if you’re technically not doing anything illegal. But these weeks of absence result in your memory of the placements of the potential graves being a blur.

With no other solution to your memory loss, you decide to start walking the first couple of rows down. That is until you encounter the blond once again and you stop in your tracks, considering skipping that row. You don’t mind getting recognized, but you’d like to avoid being potentially kicked out.

But it’s too late to turn back now, as his red gaze has focused on your face, a scowl etching itself into his features. He looks more annoyed than angry, so maybe you could avoid confrontation. Even if he does seem familiar for some reason, but honestly you avoid looking at him directly, trying to make him think you’re not worth the trouble, and because he looks like he’s about to reprimand you for something. For what exactly, you don’t know.

Your only choice in this situation is to just keep walking, so you do, barely able to dodge his overtowering figure once again. Without looking back, you just keep walking until you’re at the end of the row to switch to the next one.

Instead of actually walking into the next one, you skip a couple to get some distance between you two. And luck is on your side as you discover a recipe in that exact row. Repeating the actions of last time, you take a picture with a small smile on your face while uttering a thank you, memorizing their name and putting it next to the others.

When you’re done with collecting the recipe, you stay a couple more minutes at the grave, honestly just talking a bit about your day, trying to entertain the ones long gone, the lonely ones. It helps staying unavoided of course, because you know for sure that you don’t plan on bumping into him again.

But like most things you want or plan out, it doesn’t work out. The next time you visit the graveyard, your hope to not see him gets crushed brutally the moment you spot his tall, broad figure. And it seems like he also spotted you, like a weird person watching the entrance of the place. With him seeing you, you can’t just leave, turn around and walk away.

So, with a sigh, you don’t resist your bleak fate and step into the open space to walk down the narrow path in the middle. At random you decide to enter a row, one farther away from him than it was the last time. And maybe this is exactly your mistake, because even if you hoped he wouldn’t notice you being in a different row, you should know that nothing works out for you.

Once again you’re walking down a row, looking for your personal treasure in this space when you bump into something. Or someone. It seems like you haven’t paid any attention to your way, so focused on the engraved stones and their messages.

The apology on your tongue dies immediately when you make eye contact with the person in front of you, the one you’ve been dreading, trying so hard to avoid. Red eyes flame into yours, almost paralyzing every thought in your brain, and when the sun hits his face, letting his hair glow golden under the sun, his eyes sparkle like small explosions, you can’t help but think that he might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever met.

That is until a snarl appears on his lips, eyebrows pointing downward.

“What the fuck are you doing, creep?” he asks with a deep voice, almost a growl vibrating deep in your bones.

You gasp and put your hand dramatically against your chest. How dare he accuse you of being a creep!

You want to retort something, but it hits you like an explosion. You finally remember why he seems so familiar to you, you know him, hell, the whole country knows him.

Pro-Hero Dynamight.

And with this realization, you know that you’re fucked. He noticed you lurking around and no matter what you do or say, you won’t be able to get out of it that easily. Doesn’t mean you won’t at least try.

“Listen, Sir, this is a graveyard. I think you know exactly what I’m doing,” you deflect, softening your voice to a melancholic tone, all while keeping your answer open. Let him interpret whatever he wants, maybe you can get out of this.

He clicks his tongue, annoyance clear in his impatience. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re not even in the same row as the last time you’ve been here. Fucking creepy.”

Fuck. Well, there goes your cover. So nobody can blame you when your lips pull up in something similar to a snarl. “Aren’t you the creep? Memorizing the places I go to? Weird, not gonna lie. And maybe, just maybe, asshole, not everyone has the perfect memory or whatever.”

This made him angry, his face contorts in a snarl of his own. Your eyes glance around and you spot the way he flexes his hands, probably trying to restrain himself from grabbing you by the collar due to your sheer audacity. And you do your best to ignore the way his muscles move underneath his shirt, radiating his sheer might in a single, simple movement.

He takes a deep breath and his snarl slightly slips off as he’s probably thinking happy thoughts, or whatever they taught him in therapy.

"Listen you little shit. I've seen you at least three times in a row, just doing fuck knows what. And considering the fucking amount you've been here and how regular you must have visited this place, there’s no fucking way you're lost," he grits between his teeth, showcasing his logical thinking, and you can’t help but think how sexy his brain is.

"So you better tell me the truth, or imma get you on watch or some stupid shit."

For a moment you both just stare at each other. You don't know who's trying to break who with this intense battle of eye contact, but you do notice how pretty his eyes are, all evening sun, setting behind these gold lashes. It makes you want to sink deeper into them, and you honestly can't risk that right now, so you back away, turn your face away.

You hold up your hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! I'm going to tell you the shit I'm up to. But you gotta follow me first," you surrender with a cock of your head.

The only acknowledgement you're getting is a grunt and a single nod. So with that you continue walking down the row, almost feeling his breath down your neck.

And for a moment you understand what made Mary Shelley act that way in a graveyard…

You shake your head to get rid of the thought of his arms caging you in, of him leaning in, his gaze seeing the depth of your soul with its edge.

With a breath you try to focus on the inscriptions you walk by, and it takes you a couple to finally stop in front of one that fits your bill. You nod your head towards it.

"Look, see what's on that stone? Beside the usual? A recipe. It's either a specialty of that person, or a family recipe. Either way, I come looking for them…" you explain, eyes locked on the gravestone in front of you, reading the name of that person.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Aren't there like a fuck ton of recipes online?" he asks with a grumble, even if his suspicion only seems to ebb away slowly.

You humm, agreeing with him. "That’s true. But why would these people put so much effort into making sure these recipes are put onto their gravestones? I'd like to think they wanted to share one last thing with the world, even if they're gone," you answer slowly, putting your thoughts into coherent words ", so maybe I'm honoring their memory like that, even if I don't know them…"

For a moment you both are silent, and you turn around, trying to see if your explanation has cleared something up. Only to see him look at the gravestone, face calm, jaw slack, eyes filled with some sort of unexplainable melancholy. And you wish you could always see him like this, soft, vulnerable.

But he seems to feel your stare on him, as his gaze flits to you, all softness put back behind a grinding jaw, crossed arms.

"Tch, I guess. But I don't fucking think that you're able to honor them properly. You don't seem like you can even hold a fucking fruit knife right," he grunts, his eyes wandering all over your face.

And you grin slightly, even if your face feels a bit too hot under his scorching eyes. "Well, practice makes perfect?"

He rolls his eyes. "Someone gotta show you how this stuff is properly done."

"Oh! You want to come over? Damn, take me out on a date fi- ah!" you stumble slightly as he softly bumps his shoulder into yours.

"Don't talk shit, weirdo… I can rent a kitchen, or whatever."

You immediately shake your head. "No! I mean, it's fine. You can come over, I guess… Whatever… Uhm, do you mind me giving you my number? Only to make the plans, of course, nothing else!"

He snorts and hands you his phone, and you type your number into the new contact, putting your name in, in hope to avoid getting one of the nicknames he’s infamous for. You hand it back, but he immediately changes the name and no matter how far you crane your neck, you cannot see what he did, even if he probably changed your name to something stupid.

So you have no choice but to give up, to resign yourself to living forever with the name he just gave you. You just hope it’s something normal, not like ‘Graveyard Robber’ or anything similar.

Well, a small sacrifice considering Bakugou, the pro-hero has your number. And that you both are planning a cooking date, well date to you, it's probably just some normal, free day for him. But that doesn't mean…

No, you have to stop giving yourself hope. And yet you can't help but grin to yourself the moment he sends you a message, such a dry text you almost choke trying to converse with him over text. Still, talking with him fills you with some sense of anticipation and excitement, happiness. You're absolutely looking forward to spending some time with him, cooking one of your discoveries. And you conjure the names of these people, and you thank them with a spark in your heart, hoping they catch your gratitude.

[seasidepierre]

sunkissed face part 7 | charles leclerc

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

summary: There's something magical about joining Charles on a Grand Prix, especially in the South of France.

warnings: I'm awfully French and will defend the rights of French fans to have a French GP, therefore, I will try to make you fall in l.

words count: 7.5k

You found out that there was an universal rule for airports and train stations about five years ago: taxis were waiting for tourists like you. You moved to the front of the line, where a French guy was reading whatever on his smartphone, a cigarette on the other hand.

The sun was scorching as you stepped out of the airport in Marseille. The flight had been two hours long, barely long enough for you to keep your nerves in check, though you had to admit that you hadn’t been very successful at that. Your stomach was still swarming with a colony of bees and your hands were shaking like leaves when you finally set a foot in France. You had never been to Marseille, though you reckoned that the South of France had always been lovely every time you went there for holidays with Tom, but Marseille was a region that you hadn’t explored. You knew you didn’t have much time to visit, but you still wished you could fit in a bit of sightseeing at some point. You had managed to grab an afternoon off from work and Tom had kindly offered to pick you up from work to drive you to the Stansted airport, which, to be fair, had been a bit of a letdown. Not like the Marseille airport was any much better, truth be told.

You knew Charles wouldn’t be able to pick you up because he was deep in his racing Friday, full of free practices, media duties and other work in the garage. But you trusted the pass that he had mailed to you to open the door for you and you hoped you could make it to the track without too much hassle.

“Excuse me, parlez-vous anglais ?”

“It’s your lucky day,” He smiled.

“Do you take clients to go to the Paul Ricard track?”

“Pfew, that’s a long ride, Miss,” The driver exclaimed. “It’s gonna cost you a bunch, not gonna lie,” He grimaced. “Are you sure you want to take a taxi for that?”

“The quicker the better,” You nodded.

“Then hop on in,” He smiled.

He helped you load your weekend away bag in his boot and opened the backseat door for you so you could sit down. While he indicated the Paul Ricard track into his GPS, you checked your phone and allowed yourself to hop onto the airport wifi one last time to let Tom know you had landed safely. You had told your dad that you were going to the South of France for the weekend, but as he had assumed you were just getting on a girly weekend adventure with a few friends, you hadn’t really been able to tell him the truth. You had no idea why telling your dad you were seeing Charles felt like admitting you were doing something wrong. Because nothing in seeing Charles felt wrong, if you were honest. It was so right, in every way, that it could feel wrong, though. Like a too-good-to-be-true experience. Like something you didn’t completely deserve. But your instincts were usually good and you knew waiting to tell your dad was the right solution. You would tell him, at some point. You would tell your mother, as well. But for now, you had made Tom swear on secrecy and as you were clicking your seatbelt on, you smiled at the screen lighting up with a text from your best friend, telling you to have fun with your guy.

“So you’re going to the Grand Prix, I guess?” The taxi driver smiled in the rearview mirror.

“I am,” You smiled back.

“Where should I park? Visitors or teams?”

“Hmm, I guess teams?” You tentatively asked.

“Well, I hate to ask, but do you have the credentials that go with that? Because the gendarmes are going to stop us and ask for it at some point.”

“I think my pass is enough, let’s try and if it goes wrong, I’ll pay for the detour, don’t worry.”

Your monthly budget was crying in the back of your head, but you knew you were lucky to be able to go to a Grand Prix for free and to not have paid your flight tickets yourself. The least you could do was meet Charles halfway on the spending journey and pay an arm for the taxi. You made small talk with the driver for a bunch of the ride, not really letting him know that you were Charles’ guest. You did though confirm that he was your favorite driver, to which he only agreed, nodding and smiling.

“We have French drivers, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about this guy, having lived right next to us, that feels right.”

Your heart glowed a little bit brighter, knowing he had such support, everywhere in the world, but especially close to his home. You talked about Ferrari’s struggles, about the heartbreak of Monaco, about what you predicted for this race and why you thought Red Bull could get it. You knew it would take some kind of miracle for Charles to win a race this year. Monaco was his big chance and it blew up right in his face. The car just didn’t work like he wanted it to and the team was struggling to find what they could do to make it work. Carlos Sainz was having just the same issues, so it’s not like it was a Charles problem, but more like a Ferrari problem. And it sucked, you knew it, but Charles was always positive and bright, trying to find the brighter side of it all. And most importantly, you were going to be able to see him again after a few weeks of late night facetimes and texts so numerous your thumbs were a bit sore.

The view outside the taxi was stunning, with a mix of hills and the sea that you could see from afar, at first. Then you started an ascension through a mountain-like road, bordered with pine trees and bathing in the golden light of the Sun. Your taxi had A/C but seeing you marvelling at the decor, the driver stopped the ventilation and opened your window, allowing you to take a big gulp of fresh air, smelling like trees and sunshine despite your mouth being behind your facemask still. The cicadas were blasting their lulling buzzing sound and you grinned at the scenery in front of you. You knew you weren’t going to be able to see much, so you took advantage of the journey to the track to make sure you had a couple of pictures to bring back home.

As planned by your driver, the police showed up on the road about two kilometres away from the track and stopped the car. You showed your pass to the police, to no avail. The road your taxi driver wanted to take was barred, with the exception of the cars that sported a certain sticker on the windshield and that were authorized to take it. Your driver apologized to you and promised to find the most effective way for you to get to the track, which actually meant dropping you on the visitors parking lot and having you walk for a solid thirty minutes under the scorching sun. Your bag was heavy on your shoulder but you knew Charles was not that far from you now, barely a couple of kilometres away, and the anticipation started growing back in your stomach, in rhythm with the cicadas and the cars you could hear racing already. The positive point of your hike was that you had had the intelligence of wearing sneakers and not open sandals, because judging by the amount of dust already accumulating on your feet, you would have looked like a cavewoman by the time you’d have made it to the garages.

The passes Charles gave you let you enter the general areas around the track after a quick check of your vaccinal pass and you smiled at the F1 panels and fans everywhere. You were finally back to a race and it felt like coming back to a magical place, even though you knew there was no one really magical on track.

You asked for help from a volunteer who accompanied you to the VIP entrance and made sure you were taken care of. You crossed the track twice, seeing the F1 cars roll past you until you caught a glimpse of Charles’ car zooming beneath your feet. You smiled on your own, the volunteer in front of you oblivious to your antics. Charles had no idea you were already on track. He was supposed to pick you up tonight from the airport, as you had planned first. You were lucky that the flight company let you change your flight without a hassle or asking you to pay for it, actually. For a very long time, seeing Charles back felt like a bit of a fever dream, but now, it was actually confirmed that he was here, close enough that you’d get to breathe in the rubber and gas scent in his hair, mixed with the sweat he undeniably would be wringing out of his fireproofs. You were brought back to Charles and Charles was brought back to you.

Another volunteer flashed the QR code on your pass and let you past the VIP entrance. You were forbidden to actually enter the pitlane, which was fair to you as they were driving now, but you were welcome to roam in the paddock as much as you’d like. You have no idea who to bother to get inside the Ferrari garage and you had no idea if you were even allowed to do so, even though your pass did state Scuderia Ferrari. So you walked around, smiled at the few familiar faces of journalists you’d been watching for years and that you never thought you’d cross paths with, ever. But here you were. Silly little old you. Standing in the paddock, with your weekend bag on your shoulder, trying to navigate this space you had no idea how it worked.

“Hey, are you lost?” A voice rang beside you.

“Hey, hmm, yeah, it appears so,” You grimaced.

“First day in the paddock on your own?” The girl smiled.

“Exactly,” You shrugged. “I thought I could do this but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do or where I’m supposed to go.”

“Who are you with?” She inquired, raising a hand gently and asking you silently if she could turn your pass around.

You nodded and let her inspect your pass, looking exactly like the one she had around her neck. She whistled at the sight of your host team and nodded without saying anything else.

“I was going to grab some water and go back to the garage, I can walk you to theirs, if you want?”

“Are you sure I’m allowed to enter the garage?” You frowned.

“Absolutely. That pass states you’re allowed to and Ferrari’s garage is nice in the sense that the guest space is separate from the actual garage space. You won’t bother them, don’t worry. Come on, follow me.”

You had no idea who this girl was but her friendly behavior and simple clothing put you at ease immediately. She was clad in a pair of light skinny jeans and a baby blue linen shirt that was so oversized on her it should have looked ridiculous, but she had tucked it inside her jeans and had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, making her look sophisticated but not too much. She looked like a normal girl, just like you.

“So who are you visiting? Boyfriend? Brother? Cousin?”

“I’m not really sure what we are, actually..?” You offered.

“I see.. A guy you started to see but you haven’t had the talk with, yet.”

“Exactly,” You laughed. “What about you?”

“Boyfriend,” She grinned, walking up to the Red Bull hospitality. “I’m gonna pop in real quick, grab a bottle of water. You want something?”

“Can I get anything?”

“Sure! They don’t really care, to be honest. Journalists come all the time to get coffees,” She shrugged.

“I guess I could use a bottle of water. I wasn’t expecting it to be this hot.”

“Gotcha,” She smiled.

She waltzed in with the ease and grace of someone who’d done that a lot in the past, or at least, way more than you did. You didn’t know if that was something you were actually witnessing or if you were just somewhat admirative of her, at this point. She was so nice to you, it immediately made you her fan or whatever. She came back with three bottles of cool water and a bunch of candy bags that she shared with you with a conspicuous grin.

“So this guy you’re visiting, is he a mechanic or a strategist?” She asked.

“He’s actually.. Driving?” You grimaced.

“Oh wow!” Her eyes bulged out. “You’re with Charles?!”

“I am,” You blushed, struggling with the cap of the bottle of water before she grabbed it and opened it for you. “Thank you for that.”

“It’s okay, I’ve had my fair share of weird bottles I couldn’t open either. Wow, I can’t believe Charles didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

“You know Charles?”

“I do! I’ve known him since he was like ten or twelve,” She grinned. “I’m Pierre’s girlfriend,” She introduced herself. “Those two are besties, so we’re bound to spend time together,” She laughed. “For the sake of you being in on the joke, everybody calls me Queenie. Don’t ask, Pierre is weird sometimes.”

“Well, I’m Y/N,” You laughed.

“Nice to meet you and welcome to the circus,” She offered. “I’d shake your hand but if I’m caught doing that, they’ll throw me out. They’re a bit strict with the sanitary measures, which is normal but it’s getting a bit tiring, to be honest.”

Your new friend walked you to the Ferrari garage where she entered without a care in the world. She left you at the guest area and wished you a nice time, making sure to tell you that she’d grab your Instagram from Pierre so you could contact her if you needed anything. She made you promise to not hesitate if you were in need of a friend and you swore you’d ring her if troubles appeared. She left you there with your bottle water and candies, and off to the last thirty minutes of free practice you were.

At some point, Charles parked in the garage and the mechanics twinkled with the car a bit, but he didn’t get out and since you weren’t front row, you were quite sure he didn’t see you in his mirrors. He was focused on his car, on the feedback he was giving to the mechanics, on the different data displayed on the screens placed in front of him by a couple of engineers. When the twenty minute deadline appeared on the screens, the tyre blankets were lifted off and away your favorite guy zoomed, leaving you watching him through the screens instead of trying to catch a glimpse of him in his car. You observed him race with a glimmer in your eyes, wondering how the heck human beings could be wired to try and be as fast. You relished in the loud noises of the engines, of the yells of the crowd and the constant buzz of the garage. You smiled as Charles’ times lit up in green, then when he set up purple sectors at some point. You grinned behind your facemask when he slotted himself at the third position, even if it was just free practice and couldn’t mean much yet. But your heart glowed and you were so freaking happy for your guy and to be that close that you didn’t care that Hamilton and Alonso finally ended up above his times.

Charles was P5 and came back to the garage in an even busier team, with mechanics buzzing around like bees in a hive. The garage started to empty down and soon enough, only a handful of people were left in the guest area, leaving you closer to him than you’ve been before. You studied him getting up from the car and wiggling himself out of it, before he unfastened the little clasp of his helmet and slid it off his head, ripping his balaclava from his head soon after. He went straight to the workbench and slid his helmet on the shelf with his name on it, snapping his gloves off and putting them away in the helmet.

And then his eyes finally cleared of the racing fog they were basking in, and he saw you, standing in the guest area, waiting for him to be done.

The initial shock rapidly turned into happiness and a giant grin split his face in two, showing you the beautiful smile you loved so much. He didn’t say a word but lightly jogged around the desk separating you from the rest of the garage and up in his arms you were, before you could even comprehend it. Your feet left the ground as he squished you against his chest. For the first time in your life, you heard a smile. It was audible in his breath, in his heartbeat, in his voice when he finally talked to you. You didn’t have to see it to know it was there. You loved that.

“Hi,” You whispered.

“Hi,” He answered just as quietly. “What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to pick you up from Marseille?”

“I managed to get my afternoon off and change my flight,” You smiled back in his neck. “Surprise?”

“The best one,” He laughed.

As soon as your feet touched the ground, his lips were on your forehead, making you hum with delight. How you missed that contact of his mouth on your skin.

“I still have work to do, I can’t get out before at least 8 pm,” He grimaced. “People are gonna leave soon, but you’re welcome to sit in the garage with us or to go to my room,” He suggested.

“I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay,” You blushed. “I did take a plane to see you, you know..”

“I know and I’m thrilled you’re here. I missed you,” He confirmed, throwing his arms around your shoulders and bringing you back closer to his chest. “It’s not as nice without you.”

“I’ll go to your room when you’ll go to the brief, is that okay?”

“The brief, huh?” He teased. “Someone studied my schedule?”

“You do send a lot of texts when you’re in those,” You teased back.

“Guilty as charged,” He grinned.

“Where’s your facemask, dummy? Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“See, that’s why I missed you. You keep me in check.”

You laughed at him and he took your hand to make you walk around the desk that kept the guests away from the mechanics. He grabbed his facemask from his trainer, Andrea, who he introduced you to quickly after. Andrea was a nice guy, you’d learn, who liked to tease Charles endlessly and who didn’t dare do the same to you yet. Though he was easy to joke with, you’d find out that until he was entirely sure he wouldn’t be hurtful without wanting to, he’d refrain from actually teasing you too. Charles sat you on a stool next to the strategists. He told you not to touch any paper, otherwise you’d both be yelled at, but that you were free roam around the garage if you wanted to. You stuck to the stool, though, because you were terrified you’d actually impede on a mechanic’s job or you’d break something in a careless incident. You sat there, with your little bag on your lap, your suitcase having been brought to Charles’ driver room by the same Ferrari assistant that brought you back to the garage in Monaco and who brightened up when you thanked him by his name, as if he wasn’t really believing you actually remembered him. You watched Charles work, fascinated by the amount of information he was able to digest, analyze and process, giving back his own notes. At some point, Charles slipped a notebook in your hands and a pen and you thought he wanted you to have something to do, but you realized, somewhat in horror, that he meant for you to write some notes of what you heard and what he said.

“Can you write that, please?” Charles would ask.

And you looked at him with a distraught glaze, not even understanding a word of what just had been discussed.

“Sure. How do you write it, actually?”

“I have to go to the briefing now, Babe,” Charles whispered in your neck as you were almost dozing off on your stool. “You should go back to my room, lie on the couch, get some rest while you can. This weekend is gonna be tiring and you have work on Monday,” He grimaced.

And the mechanics would snicker, one would come to your help and spell it out, but no one even questioned the fact that you were in charge of taking the notes, like it was completely normal, like you were meant to do it.

Things quieted down after an hour and a half. The last settings to the cars were being made and Charles sat down next to you to discuss with the race strategists and engineers. He grabbed the notebook back, scribbled a few things down, slid it back to you and somewhat forgot that you were there. It’s not that he wasn’t happy that you were sat next to him, because if you trusted the hand on your thigh and the thumb running circles on your skinny jeans, you knew he acknowledged your presence and appreciated it. But Charles was deeply in his zone and you had to respect it. You had to respect that he had work to do and that you weren’t his priority right now, like he was yours. You realized that day that if a real relationship was to blossom between the two of you, then it would never be linear and equal. You would become a “girlfriend of” and you would have to make sacrifices. You would have to pick up the slate most of the time, because he wouldn’t have the time to do it himself. You would have to step up and be the one putting in the work when he was busy, when he couldn’t be the one to lift this relationship on his own.

And weirdly, that didn’t scare you one bit.

You were ready to do the hard work for Charles. You just hoped he was ready too.

“I can do this,” You mumbled sleepily.

“I know you can,” He giggled softly. “I just don’t want you to regret having been tired or even coming here. Go and have some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” You agreed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually sleep in here, I have nothing to take a nap,” He groaned.

Charles did walk you to his room, this offensively little room, this ridiculously small room. As soon as the door was closed, you got rid of your facemask, knowing nobody would be able to see you and that you wouldn’t endanger anyone. Charles’ subtle smile didn’t go unnoticed when he finally got to see your entire face and that made your heart soar a little bit.

You barely had enough space to fit three people in here but still, he made sure you were settled on the couch, that you had a blanket in the form of his oversized Ferrari jacket and that the knitted jumper he had come with that morning was rolled up just good enough to make a pillow.

“It’s perfect,” You tempered, kissing his cheek. “Go and have fun at your briefing.”

“I’d have way more fun here with you.”

“I know,” You smiled. “But you have work to do, so go on and be the boss.”

Charles kissed the tip of your nose and closed the door behind himself, letting you doze right back off until he finally would be back and you’d get him for an entire evening.

☀️

When your eyes slipped right back open, you were still draped with a too big-for-you Ferrari jacket that smelled like your favorite boy. The sun had set a while ago and the little room you were sleeping in was quiet, a stark contrast of the state it was about a few hours ago, when everything was noisy downstairs in the hospitality. You knew most of the people had left already and you knew Charles was soon to come back to you, if you trusted the text that lit up your phone’s screen, which had been sent about fifteen minutes prior to your awakening.

Right as you stretched underneath the jacket and brought it back to your face, the door slid open quietly and Charles’ silhouette appeared in the sill, a shadow shaped in the man you liked and your lips thinned into a smile.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Charles whispered. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yes, please,” You yawned. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost half past nine, you slept for quite a bit.”

“At least I’ll have some energy for tomorrow,” You shrugged, the jacket sliding from your chest as you sat back up.

“I got a small surprise for you,” Charles grinned. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”

The drive back to the hotel Ferrari had booked for the weekend was short but you got to see quite a bit of scenery, just as you did when you climbed the hills on your way to the track. Charles’ hands sneaked on your thigh and your fingers interlaced with his on your denim clad leg and suddenly, the rest of the world didn’t matter. You were driving in a gorgeous Ferrari, with your favourite guy behind the wheels, the warm breeze blowing your hair and with a view that left you breathless. Why would you care about anything else?

The hotel was small but packed with Ferrari personnel. Charles led you to his room and helped you unpack a little, grinning at the array of sundresses you’d picked for the weekend. He handed you the little white dress with a red floral pattern that was waiting for you and kindly asked if you’d wear it tonight, for the surprise he had planned. You laughed at his hopeful look and grabbed the piece of clothing, promising you’d do your best after a quick shower, to which he answered he would take the second round and slip in the bathroom right after you.

You almost offered for him to join but swallowed the invitation, not knowing how well it would be received. You didn’t know whether you were ready or not but you knew you trusted him and you trusted your mind to take you to the right place on this one. When the time would be right, you’d know.

When Charles came out of the bathroom, he was wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled on his forearms and a pair of jeans that hugged him right in the right places.

“Looking good,” You smiled, rising on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Said the most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen,” He teased back. “I’m so glad you took that dress in your suitcase,” He hummed, his hands grabbing the material on your hips to bring you closer to him. “You’re pretty.”

You didn’t have time to smile at the childish compliment. You knew the fact that he said “pretty” came from his still tentative English at times, but you loved the idea that he sounded like a little boy in love.

Love.

The idea flirted in your mind for a couple of seconds.

Was whatever this was, it? Was it Love? You didn’t know much about it. You certainly had been infatuated before, you couldn’t lie that you had pined quite a lot over Harrison, though you couldn’t even fathom why, these days. You’d had a few boyfriends over the years, you’d had relationships, some more serious than others. Not that you collected men like stamps, but you knew your last relationships had not been as special as whatever this was.

There was a magic to this that you couldn’t quite place. There was this buzzing anticipation of his fingers meeting any part of your skin that they could find, there was this comfort of knowing that somebody on this earth was happy and excited to see you, that they counted the days before they could get back to you. There was this knowing feeling of belonging somewhere and to someone, in a different way than your family or friends.

There was something more that you couldn’t quite process yet and that you couldn’t live without anymore.

Charles was bringing something new to the table and you loved that.

“So, what are your plans, racer boy?” You grinned against his cheek.

“I’m taking you to dinner outside. Let’s enjoy the weather we have, for as long as we have it.”

“Is there rain forecasted?”

“Quite a bit for tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“How wet do you get when it rains?”

“Honestly? The suits are okay and we’re quite compacted into the cars, so not a lot of water gets to us, but the amount that does? It freaking sucks.”

You grimaced, knowing how uncomfortable it must be to drive under the wet conditions for hours, in a damp racesuit. When you’d get caught in the rain, it was already annoying. So to sit down in your own puddle of sweat, rain and spray for the cars in front? Dreading.

Charles had planned this dinner quite well. The restaurant was the one of the hotel, he couldn’t quite justify going out on a racing weekend, but you loved the background of it all and couldn’t care less about it. He could have taken you out to a fast food chain restaurant and you still would have been happy about it. Andrea had studied the menu and he knew what to get. He also had found a way to ask for a table outside, near the pool and you loved that you were sitting in a secluded area that felt like it was a little secret. The night had come and the sun was hiding well below the horizon as you sat at the table, after Charles dragged your chair away from the table and helped you sit. A couple of candles had been lit and a few strings of light bulbs casted a golden glow on the terrace of the hotel, where only a few people were sitting. You smiled at him as he sat in front of you and he gave you the drinks menu, to which you stuck your tongue at him for.

He couldn’t drink during a racing weekend and you knew it.

The meal was simple enough that you didn’t feel like you were out of place but it was good enough to leave you in a food coma by the end of dessert. Charles had been delightful in terms of company and you were glad you’d hopped into the plane earlier than planned, so you could have enjoyed your time together a bit more. You two had talked about the race, about the area you were in and what there was to see but that you wouldn’t see in the end because you couldn’t, because there was no time. There had been touches on the top of the tablecloth and beneath it as well, when your sandal came to graze the leg of his jeans, which made him grin more than you thought could be possible. And when nothing seemed to be possible anymore, when you thought you had exhausted all the happenings of the night, Life reminded you to never expect anything.

You chose a rosé wine and showed him the line that you wanted, which he ordered in French, leaving you breathless and more in awe than you’ve ever been. And you’d seen him race before. But there was something nice about hearing him talk French and you loved that he seemed so much more confident in himself in his native tongue. He carried himself differently in French and that left you wondering if maybe you should pick up a few French words so he’d be able to relax on his days off and just speak whatever language came to mind.

Food for thoughts for another day. For now, you had a nice guy to spend the evening with and to appreciate.

“I thought I’d heard your disgusting laugh,” a voice boomed behind you, making you jump slightly in your chair.

“You’re the worst,” Charles grinned. “Pierre, this is Y/N. Y/N, let me introduce you properly to Pierre, the bane of my existence but also, my best friend.”

“Nice to meet you. I heard great things about you,” Pierre smiled.

“Nice to meet you too,” You grinned. “I can’t quite repay the compliment, the only thing I heard was that you’re pretty weird,” You laughed.

“Let me guess. My girlfriend tattled on me again?” He groaned.

“I’m afraid she did. Lovely girl, though!”

“That she is,” He smiled softly, a loving look adorning his features for a second.

“She’s waiting on me to go back to our own hotel, but we wanted to try the restaurant here.”

“Pierre and his girl have this habit of trying restaurants, even though she only eats pasta and french fries,” Charles explained.

“Don’t even start,” Pierre mumbled. “Leave her alone, she’s fine.”

“I never said she wasn’t, I’m just saying, if you’re testing restaurants, at least have different meals?”

“Hey hey hey, I didn’t say shit when you were all lovey dovey in my texts planning your romantic weekend here, did I?” Pierre teased. “Leave us be, you douchebag.”

“See? I told you. The bane of my existence,” Charles joked.

“I won’t take up more of your time, it was really nice to meet you. Please send me a DM on Instagram, I’d love to chat and get to know you better. Also, I’ve been told to retrieve your username so you could chat with my nutcase of a girlfriend,” He shrugged. “She kinda liked you.”

“I kinda liked her too,” You smiled. “I’ll do that before going to bed, promise. I could use a friendly face in the paddock.”

“I didn’t know you’d met her,” Charles smiled.

“She led me to the Ferrari garage and got me a water bottle,” You shrugged. “She was super nice, while I was just.. Super lost.”

“That’s the usual, don’t worry,” Pierre reassured you, squeezing your shoulder. “You’ll see, by the end of the weekend, it’ll feel better.”

“If you say so.”

“Sorry I can’t stay longer and get to properly introduce myself, I’ll slide in your DMs as soon as I get yours!”

“Your girlfriend will love that.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy I can see coloring your cheeks, Charlie?” Pierre laughed. “Come on. You know I’m taken already, I already told you, I see you as a friend, I’m sorry.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Charles scoffed. “You’re bothering us.”

Pierre didn’t stay long after that, he had places to be, people to go back to. You laughed at him flipping his middle finger to his best friend and let Charles take a breath back. He looked tired, which you knew was an after effect of the hard day of work he had just put out. His eyes were glossy with fatigue, a lazy droop coming out, and you suddenly felt a bit guilty for keeping him up.

“Are you ready to go to bed, Charles?”

“Yes,” He breathed out, in a small voice.

That night, you slept with the window open, listening to the cicadas and the dull lull of the wind in the pine trees, wrapped in the arms of a guy you couldn’t imagine your days without, anymore.

☀️

Qualis didn’t go well and the weather had been a bit chaotic, to say the least. Charles struggled to slot himself on the seventh line of the grid, while Pierre took out the sixth. As promised, you did send a message to Pierre’s instagram, which got you a nice invitation to let him follow you back, followed quickly by his girlfriend’s. You had chatted a bit with the girl during the morning, while she was stuck in Alpha Tauri’s ground and you were at Ferrari’s, which had got you a string of shocked emojis when she found your best friend “is actually Spider-Man, oh my God”. You laughed at the usual reaction you got when people saw certain of your posts but she didn’t dwell too much on it, only commenting once on it.

“Pierre is gonna freak out when he sees that,” She had sent.

“Why?”

“Because he knows how much I love Peter Parker. The character, I mean. I’m also partial to Steve Rogers AND Chris Evans. I won’t even lie to you.”

You had laughed quite a lot at that, because you couldn’t deny the chokehold Chris Evans had on everyone, you included if you were completely honest. You wouldn’t tell her that you did meet Chris once and he had been absolutely lovely. There was no way you would put Pierre through that too.

Charles had managed to wrap his work a bit earlier than the day before, since the qualis had ended a bit sooner and since the weather had decided to be a bit less dumb, he had brought you to the beach, where you had spent a couple of hours, having a picnic for dinner and walking to the waves hands in hands. He had brought you back to the hotel a bit earlier than planned, which had you in your bathing suit and in the hotel pool, since the weather allowed it now after a good rain pour during the afternoon.

You sat on the ledge, admiring the view of the pine trees around the hotel and appreciating a rare moment of quietness while Charles was floating closer and closer to you in the water, eyes closed and breathing deeply. His shoulders were still sporting the marks of the suit and the hans device, his cheeks were slowly losing the lines of his balaclava, but you could see the stress slowly being washed away by the small waves you kept creating by waddling your feet on the surface of the pool.

“You okay, Charles?” You softly asked after a deep sigh.

“I couldn’t be better,” He smiled, eyes still closed. “Or actually, I could,” He ended up muttering, reopening his eyes and swimming next to you, a grin eating his face more and more as he got closer to you.

Charles finally made his way next to you in the pool and leveraged himself up to sit next to you. Then he slid on his side and without you seeing his next move, rested his back on the ground and his head on your thighs.

“Now I’m in paradise,” He grinned, looking up at you like a little boy.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your time,” You laughed.

“How could I not? You’re here. And you’re a comfortable pillow, I can add.”

“It’s ‘might I add’,” You teased. “You’re cute when your English is all fumbled.”

“That’s because you keep messing with my brain!”

“I’m not doing anything!” You defended yourself, giggling nonetheless.

“You’re looking all cute and lovely, it keeps distracting me,” He mumbled. “Now shush, I need to rest.”

As he closed his eyes, you observed him and took the time to appreciate the way the sun kept hitting the little freckles beneath his eyes and the shadows casted by his eyelashes on top of his cheekbones. Charles had always been pretty to you, but as the golden hour started and the reflection of the little waves in the pool lit his face up, you wondered what he must have done in a previous life to be that blessed by nature. You knew the entire brotherhood to be nice looking. There was no denying that the good genes had spread amongst the Leclerc brothers, but there was something special with Charles, with all the little flaws that made his face perfect in every way.

“Are you happy?” Charles mumbled from below.

“I am,” You smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. Your index finger traced the bridge of his nose, running to the tip. “You?”

“Incredibly happy,” He confirmed, turning his head slightly so he could drop a kiss on your stomach.

You knew your time with Charles was always running out. You only had less than twenty-four hours with him, including the race tomorrow, and then you’d have to take another plane back to London, back to your grey apartment, leaving the golden light of the South of France to Charles. You already missed him and he was still lying across your lap.

Scrunching over him, you dropped a tiny kiss on the top of his nose and his lips stretched in a lazy smile, before puckering up, demanding a kiss which you offered without complaint. Your left hand came to contact with the ground, supporting your weight, while your right one found its place in his hair, playing with the still wet strands.

“Do you feel confident for the race tomorrow?”

“Not really,” He sighed. “But I’ll do what I can, as always.”

“I’ll be cheering for you from the garage,” You promised.

“That’s all that matters, this weekend. You’re all that matters.”

“Liar,” You grinned.

“Okay, maybe you’re all that matters right now. I can’t promise when I’ll be in the car.”

“That’s more like it.”

“M’gonna miss you,” Charles finally admitted.

“M’gonna miss you more,” You nodded, tracing circles on his scalp.

“Are you coming to Silverstone?”

“I’m trying to find tickets,” You confirmed.

“Can you be my guest again?”

“I’m trying to get my dad in,” You grimaced. “He hasn’t been to a race yet.”

“Seriously?” Charles frowned. “Why?”

“Dunno. It never really happened, I guess? It’d be nice to get him to Silverstone. So if I get a paddock pass, I need one for my dad as well.”

“Done deal,” Charles mumbled again, closing his eyes back. “Consider you and your dad to be my guests.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do. Because I like you and at some point, I’m gonna meet your dad.”

“You don’t have to meet him during a racing week. You’ll be busy already, you’ll have tons on your mind,” You tried to temper.

“I don’t think it’ll matter a lot whether I meet him in Silverstone or in six months,” He countered. “The sooner the better.”

Six months. You hadn’t really looked past this weekend, taking every day with Charles as some kind of blessing. But he was fully invested, he was fully in. He was planning a future with you. He was thinking about it. And you loved it.

“If you say so,” You smiled.

“So, will you and your dad be my guests in Silverstone?”

“We will,” You confirmed. “I can’t wait to surprise him with that. He’s gonna kiss the ground you walked on, you know that?” You giggled.

“Let’s not do that. Not very clean.”

“It’s an image, you silly,” You laughed. “I meant he’s gonna think you’re the coolest, nicest, most amazing guy.”

“Cool. No need for me to stress about it, then?”

“Absolutely not,” You promised, hunching down again to kiss him. “He already likes you, you know? He thinks you’re the best driver on the grid right now. And you’re with Ferrari. So you’re automatically in his good book.”

“Nice,” Charles smiled. “Can’t wait to meet him.”

“Can’t wait either,” You grinned.

You stayed there, watching the small waves in the pool, while Charles kept one of his legs waddling in the water. Your right hand kept drawing circles on his scalp while his had crept above his head, finding a spot on your calves, gently caressing your skin. The sun was lowering on the horizon line, the warmth of it slowly decreasing as well.

When finally it became obvious that you both were cold, there was nothing much else to do than to pack everything up, grab dinner and find your way back to the hotel room. Charles was nowhere near accepting the fact that it was time to get up, his head still comfortably resting on your thighs and his lips occasionally finding your stomach.

It was up to you to take matters into your own hands.

“Hey, Charles?” You whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s time you take me back to that hotel room of ours.”

Nothing could match the brightness of his grin when he opened his eyes and looked into yours, finding the confirmation he needed.

“Understood, Ma’am.”

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Support a writer, reblog their works!

Tell me what you liked the most about this! If you want to help me support my writing, you can also buy me a ko-fi 🥺🤍

taglist: @lu-morningstar @zayniegal @baueoud @letsstarsfalling @alliss19 @sirlewismybeloved @spiidergirlsworld @mae-266 @vioaglkvs @simxican @lewispool @its-astrotea-love  @toofarintomcu @pizza-portal @carotrujillo @parkerbunny @layazul @avsensio @gothicwidowsworld @sirlewismybeloved @paprikabadger @mazzbarnes @ireallydontknowdudee @charlesleclercje @obxcalm @darkice99 @mayamess @j-briefmalfoy @superdeath  @pedrodaddypascal @allison-rosewood-maximoff @honeybadger03 @altalin @adiaz-25  @theduchessinme @idkiwantchocolatee @actual-spawn-of-satan @spideyanakin @multilovebot​ @marauvdersfate @amsofftrack @dr3lover @reiding-and-writing @lovingroscoee @enjoymyloves​ @eternalharry​ @teamspideyman @iamasimpingh0e​ @calmleclerc​ @andziiiiaaa​ @spngi​ @yeolsbubbles​ @ophcelia​ @coffeehurricanes​ @haloxmendes @ohthemisssery​ @im-an-overthinker​ @blueflorals​ @wintergilmore3​ @honethatty12​ @gayyvodka6 @tempo-rary-fix​ @organasith​ @buendiabebeta​

[a-noone]

I frequently think about an AU where Ferengi are not a culture that never outgrew capitalism. They just managed to make it work. Like, really, really work.

There's a minimum and maximum wage for every profession. Working for free is illegal for both the employer and the employee. Every business and every product is highly regulated in terms of both price and quality standards.

Nothing is free (except for every citizen's first bank account) and there are no safety nets, but every ten year old has both school and a state-arranged paid apprenticeship. By the time a Ferengi finishes schooling at 20, they have a nest egg, and are on track to have a career. Every graduate can afford a basic standard of living.

"Theft of labor" is an extremely serious crime. People working for free drives wages down, meaning less disposable income, and less potential for profit. Hell no!

Moogie isn't naked and enslaved inside the home. She does housework and childcare. Moogie gets a paycheck.

It isn't, "you force your females to wear clothing!" It's, "you don't even pay your OWN wife to watch your OWN children! ..... diss-GUSTING!"

As the spiritual goals of the society include prosperity for all, and putting every citizen to their best and highest use, the idea that considerations other than your talents and ingenuity should dictate your fate seems simply irrational.

During the occupation of Bajor, the Ferengi, who run most of the quadrant's hospitality industry, institute extra taxes, fees, and embargoes against Cardassia, and Guls in particular. When the occupation is over, labor officers from Ferenginar cut people who did unpaid labor a check.

It's not a hand-out, or charity. That would be despicable. No, it's just back wages that they took out of Cardassia's hide.

A popular children's show on Ferenginar is "Bogie's Warehouse." In this show, a cartoon business person (Bogie) running a discount warehouse that sells everything, faces weekly challenges in making profit.

One week, wheelchair users can't get in to make purchases, and Bogie has to make the warehouse accessible to sell them things and get their money. Another week, visitors from another world who are allergic to snuff beetles are visiting, but the employees still want to take their snuff breaks! Bogie has to think up a clever solution to accommodate both the workers and the customers.

Does this society still have problems? OH Yes. But it's more nuanced and explores the potentials and failures of capitalism in a more nuanced way.

[nonobadcat]

A real world AU Gothic Romance - Final Chapter

Artwork by the amazing @obsidianne-art

Pairing: Ghost Shigaraki X Fem!Reader

Rating: Readers 18+ only

Content Warnings: PnV relations with a literal ghost, toys, mirror

Chapter Three Word Count: 3.9k, Ao3 Mirror

Part I ---❤--- Part 2

Sunday October 23rd, 2022

At six in the morning, you awoke to the screech of a train horn, and a full bladder. Wiping your half-matted hair out of your face, you creaked to your feet and wrapped yourself in the comforter. Dragging your warmth with you into the bathroom, you climbed onto the toilet with one eye open…

…and proceeded to pee fire.

By nine in the morning, two inquisitive text messages and one graphic description of chafed skin summoned your best friend to the landline like a fox to an injured bunny. 

“Well, of course you’re gonna give yourself a rug burn using something rough like that!” Serenity spat into the phone. “What were you thinking?!”

Um… how horny you were for some dead man’s dick?

Gripping the cold pack between your thighs, you winced. “Since when is thinking involved in that kind of thing?”

An annoyed snarl echoed from the other end. “Look, if you can’t use your fingers, you need to use a toy or something!”

You scrolled through the adult toy listings, eyeing up the options. Fake glass cock. Fake silicone cock. Fake plastic cock. Fake hot pink plastic cock with a little vibrating branch that looked like Vienna sausage. Hitachi wand. Egg thingy. Silver bullet? That sounded more like a solution to a werewolf infestation than something you wanted to put between your legs.

 “Give me a break Ren-Ren! There’s too many different options,” you protested,  scratching the back of your neck. “How am I supposed to know what to buy?”

You could practically hear your best friend’s headache as she loosed an indignant sigh. “All right. I got you. Do you want inside or outside stim?”

“Um…” you scrolled past a fake tentacle with weighted Kegel eggs. “Both?”

“Then order a rabbit.”

“What’s a rabbit?”

“Heaven have mercy,” she muttered. “Sit yourself down because this is going to be a long talk.”

Monday, October 31st, 2022 4:013 pm

Eight days after your sexual re-education lecture, a text message notification dinged your phone as you passed through the center of Smalltown, USA. Pulling into the old brownstone library, you parked your car and took advantage of the only five bar signal in Podunk County outside of the Walmart plaza. Not even the smell of garlic and deep fried something pouring out the vent from Wang’s Chinese Buffet could distract you from your excitement. The message was from USPS.

Your package has been delivered.

Oh good, Mrs. Murray’s pack of angry, push-face Pekingese hadn’t eaten the mail lady. You weren’t so sure when you saw her tearing down the sidewalk last week, being chased by bubble-fluff Cujos who probably asphyxiated for their efforts.

As you looked up from your phone’s screen, blustering winds painted the smooth cement walkway to the library doors with curled, brown leaves. A plastic sign reading “Trunk-or-Treat - 5pm - Halloween” flapped in the wind. You eyed the library's posted hours before cutting the engine. Perfect. For once, you were done with house calls early enough to go inside. Snagging your purse, you schlepped up the walkway to the glass doors and pushed your way in.

Paper cut-out ghosts and fresh pumpkins from “Miller’s Prize Winning Patch” coated the warm lobby with seasonal excitement. Tiny rubber bats flapped from the door frame, leading visitors up a trail of plastic “Big Foot” tracks to the circulation desk. Pinned into a vintage, slate colored silk dress with billowing mutton sleeves, the head librarian paused her frenzied typing just long enough to adjust her golden Prince-Nez spectacles. She tugged at the frilly trim of her high collar, fussing with the long lace. The upturned brim of her wide, feathered hat reminded you of a bowl. It didn’t budge as she lifted her head to face you. Considering the number of long, pearl tipped pins she’d inserted through the felt, it probably would have shrugged off an EF5 tornado by having a glass of sherry.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Curtwright." You folded your hands neatly on the desk. "I'm sorry it took me so long to make it in. Work has been savage."

The librarian smiled and turned to the squat metal, bookcase marked “holds”. She pulled down a heavy grey text labeled “Miller’s Antiques Encyclopedia”. “It’s just so good to see that old house cared for by someone who really appreciates its history,” she replied, passing you the massive reference book. 

“Speaking of which, do you know what happened to the Shimura’s son after the fire?”

She hummed, tapping her chin. “Not off hand.”

You sighed. “Oh well.”

“Did you find another picture in the old furniture?”

“Uh…” Your cheeks burned as images of the naughty dream drifted across your mind. “Something like that. There was a young man in his twenties with wavy white hair. He looked a little different but I could swear it was the same person.”

“If you know the date, we can check some of the old town records.”

“There wasn’t a date on this one.”

She tugged at her sleeve. “Do you remember what his clothing looked like?”

You crossed your arms. “A red velvet jacket with these fasteners that looked like a marching band uniform.” Closing your eyes, you tried to picture the outfit you were wearing. “There was a woman in something that looked like your dress. It was really tight fitted with these slightly poofy sleeves—”

“Poofy at the shoulder or the wrist?”

“The wrist? Sort of anyway. The end of the coat was wide like a funnel.” You scrunched your face. “It was short and the shoulders were smooth, like a normal suit coat.”

“Bell sleeved jacket with Bishop sleeve shirtwaist. Probably Edwardian then. Did the dress have an S-shape that made the chest and butt stick out?”

You nodded.

“Pouter pigeon. Classic Gibson Girl look,” she murmured, leaning into the conversation. “Must have been the early years. Was there a hat?”

“Yes. It was kind of puffy and made of felt.”

“Did it have a brim?”

You pinched the air. “Maybe a small one?”

“A beaver felt Toque. I’d guess 1901 to 1904. By 1905 they were back to the Leg-of-Mutton style shirts.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Let’s go check the old town records.”

Leading you across the open floor, she motioned to some leather bound volumes on the far wall behind the “Historical” desk. Labeled by decades, each volume was four inches thick. She tugged down the 1880-1910 binder and gingerly flipped through the yellowed pages. You leaned on the beige, laminate countertop, peeking over her shoulder. All at once, a single certificate caught your eye.

“There! Shigaraki! That was the name I saw.” You pointed to the small slip of paper. “What is that?”

“Huh…” She turned the book so you could read it. “Adoption paperwork. It looks like little Shimura was adopted by someone named… well… the first name is smeared but the last name is clearly Shigaraki.” Mrs. Curtwright wrinkled her long, roman nose. “I wonder if he was related to the old Dr. Garaki that used to practice in town.”

You cocked your head. “Why are you making that face?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper and cupped her cheek. “He was a notorious grave robber. They tried to run him out of town but he had some rich friend from New York that prevented it. Supposedly, the buddy had underworld connections.” 

“Oh…”

The librarian winked at you. “I’m not sure how much I believe that. Why would a crime syndicate come all the way to this little town?”

As you thought back to the scars on your dream lover’s face and how powerful his grip had been, the idea of him being more dangerous than you first realized didn’t seem that out of place.

Mrs. Curtwright flipped the page. “Oh, it looks like they changed his whole name after the adoption. No wonder Tenko Shimura disappeared from the records at the end of the Victorian era.”

Printed on the fragile paper in ink the color of night was the name you’d been searching for: Tomura Shigaraki.

After a quick stop off for $7.99 per pound Chinese buffet take-out, you rolled down the solitary drive to your Second Empire home. Pointed wrought iron trim along the edge of the tall, Mansard roofline looked like rusty knives against the thick, overcast sky. A cold, late autumn breeze slapped your cheeks. Pulling the hood of your Carhartts up, you crunched up the gravel drive to the front door. You snatched the “discreet” cardboard package off the front porch and fumbled for your keys. The old oak rattled in the breeze, its leafless twigs snapping against each other like dried chicken bones being crushed under foot. With a shudder, you headed inside and locked the door behind you.

Wang’s fried food and wonton soup proved every bit as delicious as the smell promised. However, sitting alone at a table built for many left a cold disappointment balled in your chest. You picked at the scrumptious meal, surveying the empty walls and vacant shelves. Maybe some photos would help? Did you have any printed pictures aside from the Shimura kids? Pressing your forehead against the smooth wood, you groaned. 

“I need to get out more.”

After dinner, you settled in the front parlor to await any visitors. Nursing a cup of warm apple cider, you sat in the bay window, clutching a wide plastic bowl full of Kit Kats, Reese’s Pieces, Snickers, Fun Dip and SweeTarts. Dusk descended on the world outside. Trick-or-Treat hours came or went, but no costume coated child made the long trek up the barren gravel drive. 

“Guess this isn’t suburbia,” you muttered, eating your tenth candy of the night. “The kids probably go to Trunk-or-Treat because the houses are too far apart.”

Disappointed and lonely, you flipped off the porch light and retreated upstairs with your package. 

Flopping onto the bed sheets, you rattled the white and red box. The flesh colored, rubber-free cock flopped in its clear plastic packaging. Heat filled your cheeks as you tugged open the safety seal. As you flexed the internal rod, the moveable skin wrinkled in your fingers. You snorted with laughter, positioning it into a raunchy curve. Taking your new toy into the bathroom, you cleaned it gently with unscented soap before sticking it to the side of the porcelain basin. Giggling to yourself at your suddenly well endowed sink, you flipped on the shower and started in on your nightly routine.

Twenty minutes later, with the bedroom door locked, you peeled the plastic organ off the side of your sink and wet the base. Bathed in the flickering light of a single wick oud and musk scented candle, you snatched up your bottle of “personal jelly” from the nightstand. Then, you headed for the bare, wooden floor just beside the heavy, mahogany bed. Tossing the comforter pillows down, you fluffed them into a makeshift nest. The fake cock came down on the wooden bedframe with a lewd smack. It wiggled for a moment before standing tall directly in front of the antique oval mirror. Heat glowed in your cheeks as you adjusted the bendable shape into a less intense curl.

On the other side of the room, Tomura leaned against the other side of the ornate frame, strong fingers crawling at the glass. Blazing red eyes watched tentative hands smearing the textured organ with gelatinous lube. Then slippery digits found their way between your legs. Closing your eyes, you leaned back against the pillows. Tomura licked his rough lips as soft thighs spread for his viewing pleasure.

Smooth but firm, you teased apart your folds, working your way towards your sensitive nub. The pad of your finger lifted hooded flesh, tickling the nerves with deep, slow swipes. Musky moisture pooled in your core as a low moan slipped from your swollen lips.

One finger dipped inside, tracing over stippled flesh as it followed the curve of your body. Your wrist ached, pressing your palm tight over your clit as needy hips rolled of their own accord. Your eyes squeezed shut. Tossing your head back against the side of the old bed, you pinched one pert nipple between your fingers.

“Tomura…”

At the sound of his name, Shigaraki’s hard teeth bit his thin lips to blood.

Groaning as your hand pulled away, you climbed to shaky legs before kneeling in the nest of bedding. Lowering yourself to your forearms, you shuffled back and reached behind your hips. False flesh slid between your thighs as one hand pressed it hard to your core. The dildo’s artificial skin puckered. Thighs clenched tight, you rode its length, letting all the world fade into the feel of its sultry friction between your legs. Your body quivered as gaze drifted into a glazed stare.

Tomura groaned, savoring the erotic sight. Positioned directly in front of his mirror, you glided across the toy. The teasing sway of your tits combined with occasional peaks at pebbled nipples was exquisite torture. A bead of thick pre-cum rolled down his fingers. His eyes never left your blissed out face.

Spreading your hips and squeezing your lips, you pressed the rounded head in between your folds. Tickling yourself with the tip left your body shaking with need. You sunk back, letting your new purchase worm its way past your entrance. Quivering hands fisted the blanket. When it dipped inside, your eyes went wide.

“T-Tomura!” you stuttered. 

The toy’s delicious curve was well worth the trouble. It fit like a hand in a glove, following your body’s arch to that tender spot along the front of your pussy. Drool pooled at the corner of your lips as you leaned into the sensation, letting the veiny craftsmanship set your nerves ablaze. Slick fingers gilded across your clit as you rocked yourself back and forth between twin pleasures. 

Shigaraki’s eyes bulged, following every nudge of your hip as you rode his pathetic replacement. Irritation bristled across his skin. He clenched his jaw, watching the toy with burning envy as it slipped in and out of your body. A steady stream of breathy curses poured from his mouth as he waited for the right words to come from yours.

“Tomura… ohmigosh Tomura!” you moaned. “Need your cock.”

Not yet. Not until you said it.

“Please! Please! Tomura! Ngnnn—w-want you so bad.”

So close! Too close!

As you bottomed out against the base, you let your tongue hang like a dog in heat. Saliva pooled at the tip before dripping onto the blanket below. Tomura’s nails raked the glass. The candle light flickered. You looked dead in the mirror and fixed him with a lust drunk smile. 

“Take me, Tomura Shigaraki.”

All at once, a hard hand pinched your jaw. You glanced up, only to see a feral snarl. Massive, tombstone wide teeth flashed in the thin light. Pale waves of ghost white hair framed his heart shaped face. Blood dripped from his broken lip as he sneered down at your intoxicated smile.

“T-thought you’d never come…” you mumbled.

Red eyes glowed in the din. “Thought you’d never ask,” he snarked back.

In one smooth motion, Tomura dragged you to your wobbly feet. You stumbled into his chest. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he kicked the comforter aside. The mattress squeaked. One massive hand pressed your cheek first into the springs as the other hoisted your hips against his. “You know you really ticked me off, putting on a show like that.” 

“S-sorry,” you muttered, scooting back against him. “Didn’t know what else to do…”

He rolled his eyes, slotting himself between your thighs. You gasped as cool, firm flesh clipped your raw clit. His hoarse voice growled in your ear. “No more games and no more toys. From here on in, the only one you wag your tail for”—a thick, cold weight pressed against your hot entrance—“is me.”

You nodded.

He chuckled, patting your cheek. “Good girl.”

Tomura canted his pelvis to meet you. One stroke at a time, he worked his way inside, spreading goosebumps along your skin. Icy fingers spread your lower lips, soothing your friction sore nub. Warm breath steamed from your every pant as your ghostly lover molded your pliant body to his cock. When he finally seated himself deep inside, an experimental roll of his hips left you writhing in the sheets.

“Oh no, no, no .” He taunted. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Grasping the meat of your thighs, Tomura set a steady, bouncing pace. Every thrust pressed you deeper into slippery sheets. Your clit tingled. Crawling pleasure prickled up your nerves. His girth filled you to the brim, baring you to him in ways that set your skin ablaze. Soon, the rhythmic creak of the mattress was drowned out by mewling cries of unbridled ecstasy. 

“Like that, do you?” he demanded, pressing into your farthest walls. 

“Mmmm To-Tomura,” you moaned, arching your back. Another grind of his thick cock left you slurring your words “A-ah! L-love it!”

He leaned his weight forward, licking the shell of your ear. “Slut,” he rasped. 

“D-on’t mind”— You buried your warm face in the bedding and grinned—“being your slut.”

With a curse, Tomura ripped himself out of your body. You flopped to the mattress with a confused whine before turning to face him. Before you could speak, he grabbed your shoulder and flipped you on your back. Cracked lips smashed against yours in a frenzied kiss. Cold hands dragged you over the side of the bed, as he hoisted your legs over his hips. When he broke the kiss, a skeleton wide grin split his face from ear to ear.

“Oh?” A creepy chuckle shook his chest. “Is that so?”

With a snap of his hips, Tomura buried himself deep in your cunt.

You yelped, clawing at his shoulders. Long hair tickled your cheek as he pressed his nose into your neck. Hard teeth nipped at the delicate skin. He reached between you, boney fingers toying with your clit. With a gasp, you writhed on his cock. His free hand cupped the back of your head, tilting your face.

“Take a look at how naughty you are,” he whispered.

When you saw yourself in the mirror, your breath caught in your chest. Though you could see him plain as day, there was no one reflected in the glass. Instead, your body hovered in midair, back curved and nipples tight. Between your thighs, glistening in the candlelight, your naked core clenched around nothing. Heat flooded your brain, torching all rational thought. You gulped.

Tomura turned your gaze back to him. Half-lidded eyes paired with his smug grin sent a shock of lust though your insides. He chuckled at your expression before rolling his hips again. When you gasped, he smothered it with another hungry kiss.

“Mine,” he growled.

Locking your hands beside your head, Tomura trailed his scratchy lips down the column of your neck. You whimpered, turning your cheek into the sheets. Squirming legs clamped to his sides. An eerie chuckle rumbled from his chest and he buried his nose in your hair. The wet smacks from each firm thrust filled the air like a lewd base beat. When he settled upon one particular motion, you choked on your own voice. 

“Oh?” He sneered. “Here?”

Tomura leaned into you, rolling his head across your walls. 

“T-Tomura!” you whined, arching your back.

A shiver wracked his body. “Again,” he commanded, pressing into the spot that left your vision swirling grey. 

Your toes curled. “Tomur-ah!” 

He sped the pace, pounding you against the sheets. The springs squeaked their protests but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of his feral panting. “Again!” he hissed.

Closing your eyes, you wrapped your legs around his back. “Tomura…” you moaned, pulling him tight against you.

Shigaraki swore again, wrapping his arms under your shoulders. Burying his face in your neck, his movements stuttered. Tingling waves of pleasure rippled down your thighs. You tensed, clamping your body down until the electric vibrations rattled your brain. He surged forward, pounding relentlessly into you. 

“Gonna take my cum aren’t you? Take it like the good little slut you are."

As coarse white hair clipped across your swollen clit, your world swam behind blurry tears. Half formed thoughts slurred from puffy lips.“Want it. Want your cum so bad!”

Tinged with the taste of copper, his feverish kiss threatened to suffocate you. You tongue met his in an intoxicating dance. Saliva dribbled down your chin as your body coiled tighter and tighter. Just when you were about to snap, he whispered one final order:

“Say my name.”

“TOMURA!” you yelped as your world exploded into white hot bliss. 

With a strangled grunt, Tomura emptied himself inside you. Out of breath and shaking, he collapsed on top of you, grinding his hips against you over sensitive skin. As his seed leaked around the sides of him, you pressed your forehead against his. Clammy skin met flushed flesh as you tried to still the spinning room around you.

Climbing to his elbows, Tomura swept the stray hairs away from your sweaty brow. A cruel cackle filled the room. Scarlet eyes gleamed with villainous mirth as he lifted your chin. 

“Boo," he whispered.

 ❤ ~Fin~ ❤ 

Need more dark, gothic romance with hot villains? Check out my original reader insert novel:

Maid For Your Master by Afipia Felis

Available world wide in paperback and ebook.

CW available here

Reviews from readers like you:

"...The fantasy world is lush and the descriptions feel very historically real... This is a story written [with] the kind of dark heroes who feel real, and who don't immediately reform when the heroine batts her eyes at them..." - (Amazon)

"...It also has a lovely dark plot that really gives off the best historical tropes in a really well thought out world :)..." - (Amazon Kindle)

"Delightfully Devious! One thing I also particularly enjoyed about this book was the POV. Its very seldom that you find well written novels written this way. This was a very thrilling book and I can't wait to read more!" - (Goodreads.com)

Read the first three chapters for free on Amazon and Google Play.

Artwork:

Character design by Obsidianne-art

Chapter seven Excerpt By NoNoBadCat

Taglist:

@THE-LADY-WRITES-WHAT @wonwoosbestbuddy @OCEON6  @dabisqueen @shig-a-shig-ah-ah @feral-creep @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-loveuet-love @smilinghowever @imaginedheroine @CLOUDS-NO1-FAN @MOONTHECREATOR @HARLEYWRITESFANTASY @MANJIROSGIRL @vamperilous @MADDY-HAT @cakernofakers @builtd-different25 @kurtasim @shiggyniggy @koreluvsspring @smilee-spooks @beware-thecrow

@m0nim0ni @minnieplier-blog @blehitsriot @moonwad @saikis-seceretcoffeejelly @nainainairi @bakuhoe37 @un-deadinsomniac @nonominchan @utena-akashiya @molita111 @nekolover93 @pimp-in @slaughterbat777 @chxrryvibes @blackchemicals @coldsaladpainter @flamme-meuf2-shiggy @aphorditeslust @just-yer-average-key @rekoii @justnothingguys @weo0o

@rekoii @down-with-the-shigness @softkao @night-shadowblood-writes2

[mochibdsm]

some services s-types may offer

Cleaning

Make beds.

Collect and take out trash and recycling, manage containers for them, and handle trash and recycling services.

Collect, wash, dry, put away, and care for dishes.

Clean and disinfect surfaces.

Dust.

Wash mirrors and windows.

Clean appliances.

Clean furniture.

Clean walls.

Clean toilets, showers, and baths.

Ensure toothbrushes/heads are changed regularly.

Manage clutter, tidy up, and organize things.

Make cleaning solutions.

Polish silver.

Clean, vacuum, sweep, and mop floors.

Home Maintenance/Repair

Fix and install light bulbs and fixtures.

Paint walls and hang wallpaper.

Fix and install plumbing-related things.

Change air filters.

Test household safety features.

Rotate mattresses.

Fix and install appliances.

Fix, assemble, and make furniture.

Do construction, plumbing, and electrical jobs.

Handle working with tradesmen.

Plants/Outdoor

Plant, grow, and maintain a lawn.

Plant and grow any other desired plants.

Clear trash and blockages from exterior areas.

Weed an area.

Prune plants.

Maintain a pool.

Arrange and maintain bouquets and floral arrangements.

Laundry/Sewing/Needlework

Collect, sort, wash, dry, and put away laundry.

Iron.

Remove stains.

Clean and maintain leather items; bootblack.

Mend clothes.

Tailor clothes.

Design and sew, knit, and crochet projects.

Do embroidery and applique.

Culinary

Cook everyday and fancier foods for whatever number of people is required.

Bake.

Create nice food and drink presentation.

Serve food and drink gracefully.

Make coffee, tea, and cocoa.

Set the table for various situations; fold napkins.

Sharpen knives.

Match alcohol and make alcoholic drinks.

Check expiration dates and clear out old food.

Put together menus, meal plans, keep food inventory, and make shopping lists.

Warm or cool plates, cups, and bowls.

Handle special diets.

Handle food preservation.

Recreation

Pack, especially for air travel.

Plan for and use public transportation.

Handle arrangements for lodging, meals, and transportation.

Find desired shops and services.

Navigate with a map or GPS.

Handle passport, currency, language, cultural, and legal issues.

Handle entertainment, visiting tourist destinations, and going to events.

Maintain a valid driver’s license and safe driving skills; drive/chauffeur.

Maintain a car: change oil, get fuel, check fluids, change wiper blades, check tire pressure, and change tires.

Host events and guests, including overnight.

Be a dungeon monitor.

Maintain collections.

Provide cigar service, needed tasks related to marijuana/nicotine/tobacco use (lighting, emptying ashtrays, rolling joints, etc.)

Film and photograph requested occasions.

Recommend/curate media.

Play a desired multiplayer game or sport.

Provide entertainment (performing arts, etc.)

Secretarial

Handle and answer electronic written communications, calls, mail, papers, and visitors; take messages.

Proofread, edit, format, and provide feedback on various projects.

Keep a calendar and manage scheduling.

Keep records.

Type up or scan physical notes and records.

Assist with gifting.

Shop online and in-store.

Manage groceries and basic items.

Manage couponing, sale-finding, item comparing, and negotiating.

Do product and store research.

Handle paperwork and related items.

Give reminders.

Give tech support.

Design websites.

Research assigned topics and share a report.

Set up electronics.

Budget, track spending, and handle taxes.

Health/Beauty

Give massages.

Make beauty products.

Lay out desired outfits in advance; have a basic knowledge of fashion/give advice.

Give manicures and pedicures.

Help with bathing; run a bath.

Wash, dry, brush, style, and cut hair; barber.

Help with shaving, waxing, and plucking.

Do makeup.

Apply daily SPF and/or moisturizer; help with skincare.

Maintain certification/skills in first aid and CPR.

Handle medications.

Take vitals.

Do caretaking for illness, disability, and injury.

Animals

Feed animals and make sure they have water.

Train animals.

Clean animal habitats and bathrooms.

Provide animal health care.

Groom animals.

Exercise, walk, and play with animals.

Other

Assist with moving (business, home, etc.)

Create requested art or decor.

Keep anything desired well stocked throughout the household.

Assist with “prepping” (food/water/survival gear storage, etc.)

Child care (a list unto itself).

Provide security services.

Homeschooling or tutoring.

Oversee other s-types.

AM and PM routines such as closing/opening or locking/unlocking windows and doors, closing/opening blinds, turndown service, and shutting/turning on lights.

[axisdesigners1234]

Axis Designers: The Best Exhibition Design Company in India

When it comes to making a lasting impression at trade shows and exhibitions, the right stand design can make all the difference. Axis Designers is widely recognized as one of the Top Exhibition Design Company in India, known for its innovative and impactful exhibition stand designs that captivate and communicate a brand’s identity effectively. With a proven track record, they have established themselves as the Best Exhibition Stand Design Company for businesses across various industries.

Innovative and Tailored Solutions

What sets Axis Designers apart from other Exhibition Stand Designers in India is their commitment to providing customized exhibition stand solutions that align with each client’s unique needs. Whether you’re a startup aiming to establish a strong presence or a well-known brand looking to enhance your image, Axis Designers ensures that their designs reflect your brand's identity and objectives. They specialize in creating innovative exhibition stand designs that are both creative and strategically aligned to drive maximum engagement.

Skilled Team of Designers and Fabricators

The success behind Axis Designers lies in their highly skilled team of exhibition stand designers and fabricators. With an in-depth understanding of both aesthetics and functionality, they create stands that are visually captivating and efficient in their use of space. Whether you’re looking for minimalistic designs or bold structures, their team ensures that the stand grabs attention while allowing easy navigation for visitors. This balance of form and function makes Axis Designers a leading name in custom exhibition stand design in India.

End-to-End Exhibition Services

Axis Designers offers a comprehensive range of exhibition stand design services, from conceptual 3D design to fabrication and on-site installation. Their 3D exhibition stands designs allow clients to visualize the final stand in detail before construction begins, ensuring that every element is aligned with the brand’s vision. Their expert fabricators then bring the designs to life with precision. The company’s seamless installation services ensure that the stand is set up on time, allowing clients to focus on their event while enjoying hassle-free exhibition stand fabrication.

Proven Success Across Industries

Axis Designers boasts a diverse portfolio of successful projects across multiple industries, such as technology, healthcare, automotive, and fashion. This versatility has earned them a reputation as one of the most reliable and Best Exhibition Stand Designers in India. Businesses trust Axis Designers to deliver stands that not only look great but also meet practical needs, making exhibitions smooth and successful.

Why Choose Axis Designers?

Creative & Functional Designs: Designs that attract attention while maintaining practical functionality.

Customized Solutions: Tailor-made exhibition stands that reflect the brand’s identity and objectives.

End-to-End Service: Complete solutions from design to installation, ensuring a hassle-free experience.

Experienced Team: A team of professional exhibition stand fabricators and designers ensuring quality in every project.

Proven Track Record: Successful projects across multiple industries showcase their expertise.

In conclusion, Axis Designers is a leading choice for custom exhibition stand design in India, offering innovative, high-quality, and functional designs. With their comprehensive services, expert team, and a dedication to delivering impactful results, they are the go-to company for businesses seeking to make a lasting impression at exhibitions and trade shows. Whether you are a small business or a large corporation, Axis Designers ensures your exhibition stand will not only turn heads but also communicate your brand message effectively, solidifying their position as one of the Best Exhibition Design Companies in India.

[qwaiting]

Unlock the Benefits of Visitor Management Systems for Your Enterprise! Learn how these systems optimize efficiency and safeguard your premises.

[webdesignagencyinghaziabad]

web design agency in ghaziabad

Welcome to Your Premier Web Design Agency in Ghaziabad

Welcome to Web Players Technology, Ghaziabad's leading Web Design Agency in Ghaziabad. Our mission is simple: to help businesses like yours thrive in the digital age. Whether you're a startup aiming to make your mark or an established company looking to revamp your online presence, we're here to turn your vision into a reality. With a passion for design and a commitment to excellence, we deliver tailored web solutions that drive results.

Who We Are

At Web Players Technology, we pride ourselves on being a team of creative professionals who blend innovation with strategy. Based in the heart of Ghaziabad, our agency is at the forefront of web design, development, and digital marketing. Our talented team includes:

Web Designers: Artists who transform ideas into visually stunning and user-friendly websites.

Developers: Tech experts who bring designs to life with clean, efficient code and cutting-edge technology.

Digital Marketers: Strategists who ensure your website attracts the right audience and converts visitors into customers.

Project Managers: Coordinators who ensure your project is completed on time, within budget, and to your satisfaction.

Our Services

We offer a comprehensive range of web design and development services tailored to meet the diverse needs of our clients. Our services include:

1. Custom Web Design

A website is often the first impression customers have of your business. Our custom web design services ensure that your site is not only visually appealing but also reflects your brand's identity. We focus on:

Unique Design Concepts: No two businesses are the same, and neither are our designs. We create unique layouts that stand out.

Responsive Design: Your website will look and function flawlessly on all devices, from desktops to smartphones.

User Experience (UX): We design with your users in mind, ensuring a seamless and intuitive navigation experience.

2. Web Development

Behind every great website is robust development. Our development services include:

Front-End Development: We use the latest technologies to ensure your website looks great and functions perfectly.

Back-End Development: Our developers create reliable and scalable back-end solutions to support your website’s functionality.

Content Management Systems (CMS): We build websites on popular CMS platforms like WordPress, Joomla, and Drupal, allowing you to manage your content easily.

3. E-Commerce Solutions

In today’s digital marketplace, having a strong e-commerce presence is crucial. Our e-commerce solutions include:

Custom E-Commerce Design: Tailored designs that make shopping easy and enjoyable for your customers.

Shopping Cart Integration: Smooth and secure payment processes that enhance user experience.

Product Management: Tools to help you manage inventory, track sales, and analyze performance.

4. Search Engine Optimization (SEO)

A beautiful website is only effective if people can find it. Our SEO services ensure that your site ranks well on search engines and attracts organic traffic. We offer:

On-Page SEO: Optimization of website content, meta tags, and images to improve search engine visibility.

Off-Page SEO: Strategies to build backlinks and increase your site’s authority.

Local SEO: Techniques to enhance your visibility in local search results, crucial for businesses in Ghaziabad and the surrounding areas.

5. Digital Marketing

To complement our web design services, we offer a range of digital marketing solutions designed to drive traffic and generate leads:

Social Media Marketing: Engaging strategies to build your brand’s presence on platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn.

Email Marketing: Targeted campaigns that nurture leads and keep your audience informed.

Pay-Per-Click Advertising (PPC): Cost-effective advertising that delivers immediate results and drives qualified traffic to your site.

6. Website Maintenance and Support

A website requires ongoing maintenance to stay relevant and secure. Our support services include:

Regular Updates: Keeping your website’s software and plugins up-to-date to prevent vulnerabilities.

Bug Fixes: Quick resolution of any issues that may arise to ensure smooth operation.

Performance Monitoring: Regular checks to ensure your website is performing optimally and efficiently.

Why Choose Us?

Choosing the right Web Design Agency in Ghaziabad is a crucial decision for your business. Here’s why Web Players Technology stands out:

1. Experience and Expertise

With years of experience in the industry, our team has successfully delivered projects across various sectors. We stay updated with the latest trends and technologies to provide innovative solutions.

2. Client-Centric Approach

Your satisfaction is our top priority. We work closely with you throughout the project to ensure your needs are met and your expectations are exceeded.

3. Quality and Reliability

We are committed to delivering high-quality work on time and within budget. Our attention to detail and dedication to excellence ensure that you receive a product you can be proud of.

4. Transparent Communication

We believe in clear and open communication. You’ll be kept informed at every stage of the project, and we’re always available to address any questions or concerns.

5. Competitive Pricing

Our pricing is designed to be fair and transparent, offering exceptional value for the quality of work we deliver. We provide detailed quotes and ensure there are no hidden costs.

Our Process

Our approach to web design and development is structured to ensure a smooth and successful project. Here’s how we work:

1. Discovery and Planning

We start by understanding your business, goals, and target audience. This phase involves gathering requirements and defining the scope of the project.

2. Design and Prototyping

Our designers create mockups and prototypes to visualize the Web Design Agency in Ghaziabad. You’ll have the opportunity to provide feedback and make adjustments before we move on to development.

3. Development

Once the design is approved, our developers bring it to life. We build your website using the latest technologies and ensure it meets all functional requirements.

4. Testing and Launch

Before launching, we thoroughly test the website to identify and fix any issues. We ensure that everything works seamlessly across different devices and browsers.

5. Post-Launch Support

After the launch, we provide ongoing support to address any issues and help you with any adjustments or updates. We also offer training to help you manage your website effectively.

Get in Touch

Web Design Agency in Ghaziabad

Ready to take your online presence to the next level? Contact us today to discuss your project and find out how we can help. Whether you’re looking for a stunning new website, a powerful e-commerce platform, or a comprehensive digital marketing strategy, Web Players Technology is here to assist.

[managedserversus]

Website Uptime Monitoring and Management

In today’s digital age, having a website that is always available and accessible is crucial for businesses and organizations. A website downtime can lead to missed opportunities, loss of revenue, and damage to a company’s reputation. This is where website uptime monitoring and management come into play.

What is Website Uptime Monitoring?

Website uptime monitoring refers to the process of regularly checking the availability and performance of a website. It involves using specialized tools and services to monitor the website’s uptime and promptly alert the website owner or administrator if any downtime or performance issues are detected.

Website uptime monitoring services typically work by periodically sending requests to the website from multiple locations around the world. These requests simulate real user visits and check if the website responds correctly. If a problem is detected, such as the website being down or loading slowly, the monitoring service sends an alert through various communication channels like email, SMS, or push notifications.

Benefits of Website Uptime Monitoring

Implementing a robust website uptime monitoring system offers several benefits:

1. Minimizing Downtime:

Website downtime can occur due to various reasons, such as server issues, network problems, or software glitches. With uptime monitoring, you can quickly identify and address these issues before they escalate, minimizing the impact of downtime on your business.

2. Protecting Revenue and Reputation:

A website that is frequently down or slow to load can lead to frustrated visitors and potential customers abandoning your site. This directly affects your revenue and can harm your reputation. By proactively monitoring your website’s uptime, you can ensure a seamless user experience and maintain a positive brand image.

3. Tracking Performance Metrics:

Uptime monitoring services provide valuable insights into your website’s performance metrics. You can track metrics such as response time, average uptime, and downtime duration. These metrics help you identify trends, set benchmarks, and make data-driven decisions to improve your website’s performance.

4. SEO and Search Rankings:

Website downtime can negatively impact your search engine rankings. Search engines like Google prioritize websites that provide a reliable and uninterrupted user experience. Consistent uptime ensures that search engine crawlers can access and index your site properly, positively impacting your SEO efforts.

Website Uptime Management

Website uptime management goes beyond just monitoring and involves proactive steps to optimize and maintain your website’s availability. Here are some essential aspects of website uptime management:

1. Reliable Web Hosting:

Choosing a reliable web hosting provider is crucial for ensuring maximum uptime. Look for hosting providers that offer high availability, redundant infrastructure, and strong security measures. Additionally, consider the scalability of the hosting solution to accommodate your website’s growth.

2. Regular Maintenance and Updates:

Performing regular maintenance tasks, such as updating software, plugins, and security patches, is essential for keeping your website secure and stable. Outdated software can introduce vulnerabilities that could lead to downtime or compromise the integrity of your website.

3. Load Testing and Performance Optimization:

Conduct regular load testing to ensure your website can handle increased traffic without slowing down or crashing. Performance optimization techniques, such as caching, content delivery networks (CDNs), and code optimizations, can significantly improve your website’s speed and reliability.

4. Disaster Recovery and Backup Plans:

Prepare for the worst-case scenarios

by implementing robust disaster recovery and backup plans. Regularly back up your website’s data, databases, and configurations, and store them in secure off-site locations. This ensures that you can quickly restore your website in case of any unforeseen incidents.

Conclusion

Website uptime monitoring and management are vital for ensuring a reliable and high-performing online presence. By proactively monitoring your website’s uptime, you can address issues promptly, protect your revenue and reputation, and improve your overall user experience. Combine this with effective website uptime management practices to maximize the availability and stability of your website. Remember, a website that is always up and running is a key ingredient for success in today’s digital landscape.

Source

[lyncotek]

Introduction

This article will discover How Commercial Outdoor Entrance Mats Can Improve Safety. In industrial environments, retaining costs under control and visitor and worker safety paramount are crucial issues. Strategically setting outdoor entrance mats is one often-not-noted method that efficiently addresses both troubles. This mattress reduces the cost of maintenance and overhaul by preventing falls and spills by preserving the environment around indoors for longer

Understanding the Diversity of Commercial Outdoor Entrance Mats

There are numerous types of business outdoor entrance mats, each made to fit unique situations and necessities. Options starting from absorbent mats that take in moisture to scraper mats that successfully dispose of debris from footwear are to be had to meet any need. Aesthetic choices, weather, and foot traffic quantity are only a few of the factors to recollect even as choosing the correct mat.

Enhanced Safety with Commercial Outdoor Entrance Mats

The primary purpose of outside entrance mats is to improve safety by using reducing the threat of journeys, falls, and slips. This matting drastically decrease the hazard of mishaps by using imparting an extra traction-rich floor, particularly in damp or slick circumstances. They also keep footwear from being tracked interior and developing problems by collecting moisture and particles from shoes.

How Commercial Outdoor Entrance Mats Reduce Maintenance Costs

Over time, you may store quite a little cash on protection by investing in great outdoor front mats. These mats protect indoor flooring surfaces from dust and moisture at the entrance, increasing their durability and decreasing the want for common cleaning. By doing this, exertion fees are decreased and the demand for expensive cleaning resources and gear is reduced as nicely.

Factors to Consider When Choosing Commercial Outdoor Entrance Mats

When deciding on access mats for commercial locations, there are a few matters to not forget. These include elements together with placement and length to guarantee top-of-the-line insurance and efficacy, sturdiness to face up to sturdy foot visitors and awful weather, and customization selections to meet branding specifications.

Installation and Maintenance Tips

To maximize the use and durability of outside entrance mats, proper installation and maintenance are crucial. By using the counseled installation techniques, you could lessen the hazard of journeys and falls by ensuring the mats are firmly and flatly hooked up. Moreover, frequent upkeep and cleansing, such as vacuuming, shaking, and washing, contribute to their persevered efficacy.

Cost-Effectiveness and Return on Investment

Good entrance mats may be steeply-priced up the front, but in the long run, the benefits heaps outweigh the price. These mats provide corporations a robust go-back on funding because of the reality they minimize place and tear on interior surfaces, decrease the want for ground cleanings, and avoid injuries that could cause pricey legal responsibility claims.

Environmental Sustainability

Eco-friendly access mat solutions are developing in reputation as sustainability will become an extra considerable issue for companies. These mats, which might be lengthy-lasting and products of recycled substances, help business sustainability objectives in addition to making indoor space purifiers.

Future Trends in Entrance Mat Technology

It is anticipated that future developments in entrance mat generation will concentrate on improving effectiveness and overall performance. Mats with superior dirt and moisture retention and much less complex protection will quit result from material and design enhancements. Real-time mat overall performance monitoring and management also can be made possible via integration with clever building systems.

Conclusion

Commercial outdoor entrance mats play a crucial position in improving safety and decreasing preservation prices in business spaces. By preventing slips and falls, minimizing dirt and moisture access, and defensive indoor surfaces, those mats provide a cost-effective approach to commonplace facility management demanding situations.

FAQs

How do outdoor entrance mats improve safety?

Can entrance mats really reduce maintenance costs?

What types of materials are used in commercial entrance mats?

How often should outdoor entrance mats be cleaned?

Are there any regulations regarding entrance mats for commercial spaces?

[scotianostra]

Happy birthday to former formula one racing champion Jackie Stewart wo turns 84 today.

Born John Young Stewart in Milton Dunbartonshire in 1939, Jackie, as he became known, attended Hartfield primary school in the nearby town of Dumbarton going on to the local academy in the town.

Jackie experienced learning difficulties owing to undiagnosed dyslexia, and due to the condition not being understood or even widely known about at the time, he was regularly berated and humiliated by teachers and peers alike for being “dumb” and “thick". Stewart was unable to continue his secondary education past the age of 16, and began working in his father’s garage as an apprentice mechanic. He was not actually diagnosed with dyslexia until 1980, when his oldest son Mark was diagnosed with the condition. On learning that dyslexia can be genetically passed on, and seeing very similar symptoms with his son that he had experienced himself as a child, Stewart asked if he could be tested, and was diagnosed with the disorder, by which time he was 41 years old. He has said: “When you’ve got dyslexia and you find something you’re good at, you put more into it than anyone else; you can’t think the way of the clever folk, so you’re always thinking out of the box.“

Jackie began testing race cars in 1961. Showing his skill and raw pace, Stewart quickly worked his way up the ranks before grabbing s drive in the 1964 Formula Three Championship for Tyrell. In his debut race at Snetterton, Jackie pulled out a 25 second lead within two laps and went on to win the race comfortably, 44 seconds in front of his closest rival. Becoming a Formula Three Champion on his debut season, the offers from Formula One came thick and fast. Discussing how he maximised success at every opportunity in the early stages of his career, Jackie delivers thought provoking ideas as an after dinner speaker that are relatable to sporting and business environments alike.

Jackie’s first race in an F1 car was for Lotus in December 1964 in South Africa, by the end of his first season, Stewart had finished his rookie season third in the World Drivers’ Championship, proving his potential as a future World Champion.

1966 triggered Jackie’s lifelong fight for better safety in his sport. Following a crash at the 1966 Belgian Grand Prix, Jackie was left trapped in his overturned BRM soaking in fuel. With no tools to help him, stewards had to wait for other drivers Hill and Bondurant to help after borrowing a spanner from a spectator. From now on, Jackie would tape a spanner to his steering wheel, travel to races with his own doctors whilst his team supplied a medical truck for the benefit of all. A hugely passionate subject for Jackie, driver safety can feature heavily in his talks as a motorsport speaker. The harsh reality of danger in his day makes for a compelling insight into the sport and how far things have come since then.

Stewart became Formula One World Champion in 1969 in a Matra MS80 before going on to win the 1971 and 1973 World Championships for Tyrell. A hugely talented racing driver, Jackie left a legacy of increased in-car safety as well as drastic improvements to the layout and design of tracks, all in the name of limiting risk to drivers.

Jackie's crash helmet was white, with the red, green, blue, white and yellow Stewart Royal Tartan surrounding the top.

In 2021 Jackie set up the charity Race Against Dementia, his wife Helen had been diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia, he believes that the application of Formula1’s technology and out of the box thinking could bring about earlier solutions to society coping with dementia. The couple are childhood sweethearts and have been married since 1962. Jackie recently spoke about his friend, Sean Connery, revealing that he had been ravaged with dementia during his final two years of his life.

The 27-time Grand Prix winner remains a regular visitor to the F1 paddock, and also to Goodwood's annual events that commemorate the history of the sport and which give the F1 legend a change to savour once again the thrills of racing onboard one of his period cars.

[rideboomindia]

Following the tremendous response to the initial launch, RideBoom is proud to introduce its Bike Taxi Service in the following cities:

Agra: With its vibrant urban landscape and growing population, RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service will offer residents and tourists a convenient and sustainable way to navigate the bustling streets of Agra.

Kolkata: The introduction of RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service in Kolkata is set to transform the transportation landscape, providing commuters with an environmentally friendly and time-efficient alternative.

Pune: RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service will make commuting easier for the residents of Pune, offering a reliable and affordable transportation option that reduces congestion and promotes cleaner air.

The expansion of RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service to these new cities reaffirms the company's commitment to providing sustainable transportation solutions tailored to the needs of each community. By leveraging bike taxis as a primary mode of transportation, RideBoom aims to reduce traffic congestion, lower carbon emissions, and enhance the overall urban transportation experience.

Key features of RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service include:

Efficiency and Speed: RideBoom's fleet of experienced and trained drivers will provide swift and efficient transportation, allowing passengers to reach their destinations quickly, even during peak hours.

Affordability: The Bike Taxi Service offers competitive pricing and affordable fares, making it an accessible transportation option for a wide range of customers.

Environmental Sustainability: RideBoom's commitment to reducing carbon emissions and promoting sustainable transportation is further extended to the newly added cities, ensuring a greener future for urban areas.

Convenience and Accessibility: The RideBoom mobile app allows users to book a bike taxi with ease, providing real-time tracking and enabling passengers to plan their journeys accordingly.

Safety and Security: RideBoom prioritizes the safety and well-being of its customers. All RideBoom drivers undergo rigorous background checks and safety training to ensure a secure and reliable travel experience.

"We are thrilled to expand RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service to these new cities, bringing sustainable and efficient transportation options to even more communities," said Harminder Malhi, Founder at RideBoom. "Our mission is to redefine urban mobility, and by introducing our bike taxis, we aim to alleviate congestion, reduce carbon emissions, and provide a convenient mode of transportation that aligns with the evolving needs of residents and visitors."

To celebrate the expansion, RideBoom is offering a special promotion for new users. By downloading the app, riders can enjoy a bonus amount of 500 INR to use against their rides.

The company plans to continue expanding its service to more cities across India shortly.

For more information about RideBoom's Bike Taxi Service and to download the RideBoom mobile app.

About RideBoom:

RideBoom is a leading technology-driven transportation company committed to transforming the way people move within cities. With a focus on sustainability and innovation, RideBoom offers a range of transportation solutions, including ride-hailing, bike taxis, and more. Headquartered in Chandigarh India and Melbourne Australia, RideBoom operates in multiple cities across India, serving millions of customers daily.

For media inquiries, please contact:

press@rideboom.com