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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years ago

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Decrapify cookie consent dialogs with the Consent-O-Matic

Remember when they sneered at Geocities pages for being unusable eyesores? It's true, those old sites had some, uh, idiosyncratic design choices, but at least they reflected a real person's exuberant ideas about what looked and worked well. Today's web is an unusable eyesore by design.

Start with those fucking “sign up for our newsletter” interruptors. Email is the last federated protocol standing, so everyone who publishes is desperate to get you to sign up to their newsletter, which nominally bypasses Big Tech’s chokepoint on communications between creators and audiences. Worst part: they’re wrong, email’s also been captured:

https://doctorow.medium.com/dead-letters-73924aa19f9d

Then there’s the designer’s bizarre and sadistic conceit that “black type on a white background” is ugly and “causes eye-strain.” This has led to an epidemic of illegible grey-on-white type that I literally can’t read, thanks to a (very common) low-contrast vision disability:

https://uxmovement.com/content/why-you-should-never-use-pure-black-for-text-or-backgrounds/

Often grey-on-white type sins are compounded with minuscule font sizing. You can correct this by increasing the font size from teeny-weeny-eyestrain-o-rama to something reasonable, but when you do, all the static elements on the page size up with the text, so the useless header and footer bars filled with social media buttons and vanity branding expand to fill the whole screen.

This, in turn, is made a billion times worse by the absurd decision to hide scrollbars (shades of Douglas Adams’ description of airports where they “expose the plumbing on the grounds that it is functional, and conceal the location of the departure gates, presumably on the grounds that they are not”).

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/3205828-it-can-hardly-be-a-coincidence-that-no-language-on

Scrolling a window (without using RSI-inflaming trackpad gestures) is now the world’s shittiest, most widely played video-game, a hand-eye coordination challenge requiring sub-pixel accuracy and split-second timing to catch the scroll-bar handle in the brief, flashing instant where blips into existence:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1516136202235043841

One of the scariest things about the precarity of Firefox is the prospect of losing some of the customizations and stock features I rely on to decrapify the web — stuff I use so often that I sometimes forget that it’s not how everyone uses the web:

https://www.wired.com/story/firefox-mozilla-2022/

[Image ID: Two side-by-side screenshots comparing the default layout of a wired.com article ('The intoxicating pleasure of conspiratorial thinking' by Virginia Heffernan) with the same article in Firefox's Reader Mode.]

For example, there’s Firefox’s Reader Mode: a hotkey that strips out all the layout and renders the text of an article as a narrow, readable column in whatever your default font is. I reach for ctrl-alt-r so instinctively that often the publisher’s default layout doesn’t register for me.

Reader Mode (usually) bypasses interruptors and static elements, but Firefox isn’t capable of deploying Reader Mode on every site. The Activate Reader View plugin can sometimes fix this:

https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/activate-reader-view/

But when it can’t there’s my favorite, indispensable Javascript bookmarklet: Kill Sticky, which hunts through the DOM of the page you’ve got loaded and nukes any element that is tagged as “sticky” — which generally banishes any permanent top/bottom/side-bars with a single click:

https://github.com/t-mart/kill-sticky

A recent addition to my arsenal is Cookie Remover. Click it once and it deletes all cookies associated with the page you’ve currently loaded. This resets the counter on every soft paywall, including the ones that block you from using Private Browsing. Click this once, then reload, and you’re back in business:

https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/cookie-remover/

Today, I added another plug-in to my decrapification rotation: Consent-O-Matic, created by researchers at Denmark’s Aarhus University. Consent-O-Matic identifies about 50 of the most commonly deployed GDPR tracking opt-out dialog boxes and automatically opts you out of all tracking, invisibly and instantaneously:

https://consentomatic.au.dk/

We shouldn’t need Consent-O-Matic, but we do. The point of the GDPR was to make tracking users painful for internet companies, by forcing them to break down all the different data they wanted to gather and the uses they wanted to put it to into a series of simple, yes/no consent requests. The idea was to create boardroom discussions where one person said, “OK, let’s collect this invasive piece of data” and someone else could say, “Fine, but that will require us to display eight additional dialog boxes so we’ll lose 95% of users if we do.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/26/ico-ico/#market-structuring

What’s more, the GDPR said that if you just bypassed all those dialog boxes (say, by flipping to Reader Mode), the publisher had to assume you didn’t want to be tracked.

But that’s not how it’s worked. A series of structural weaknesses in European federalism and the text of the GDPR itself have served to encrapify the web to a previously unheard-of degree, subjecting users to endless cookie consent forms that are designed to trick you into opting into surveillance.

Part of this is an enforcement problem. The EU Commission we have today isn’t the Commission that created the GDPR, and there’s a pervasive belief that the current Commission decided that enforcing their predecessors’ policies wasn’t a priority. This issue is very hot today, as the Commission considers landmark rules like the Digital Services Act (DSA) and the Digital Markets Act (DMA), whose enforcement will be at the whim of their successors.

The failures of EU-wide enforcement is compounded by the very nature of European federalism, which gives member states broad latitude to interpret and enforce EU regulations. This is most obviously manifested in EU member states’ tax policies, with rogue nations like Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands and Ireland vying for supreme onshore-offshore tax haven status.

Not surprisingly, countries whose tax-codes have been hijacked by multinational corporations and their enablers in government are likewise subject to having their other regulations captured by the companies that fly their flags of convenience.

America’s biggest Big Tech giants all pretend to be headquartered in Ireland (which, in turn, allows them to pretend that their profits are hovering in a state of untaxable grace far above the Irish Sea). These same companies ensured that Ireland’s Data Protection Commissioner’s Office is starved of cash and resources. Big Tech argues that their Irish domicile means that anyone who wants to complain about their frequent and enthusiastic practice of wiping their asses with the text of the GDPR has to take it up with the starveling regulators of Ireland.

That may change. Max Schrems — whose advocacy gave rise to the GDPR in the first place — has dragged the tech giants in front of German regulators, who are decidedly more energetic than their Irish counterparts:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/15/out-here-everything-hurts/#noyb

The new EU tech competition laws — the DMA and DSA — aim to fix this, shoring up enforcement in a way that should end these “consent” popups. They also seek to plug the GDPR’s “legitimate purpose” loophole, which lets tech companies spy on you and sell your data without your consent, provided they claim that this is for a “legitimate purpose.”

But in the meantime, GDPR consent dialogs remain a hot mess, which is where Consent-O-Matic comes in. Consent-O-Matic automates away the tedious work of locating all the different switches you have to click before you truly opt out of consent-based tracking. This practice of requiring you to seek out multiple UI elements is often termed a “Dark Pattern”:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/pdf/10.1145/3313831.3376321

But while “Dark Pattern” has some utility as a term-of-art, I think that it’s best reserved for truly sneaky tactics. Most of what we call “Dark Patterns” fits comfortably in under the term “fraud.” For example, if “Opt Out of All” doesn’t opt out of all, unless you find and toggle another “I Really Mean It” box, that’s not a fiendish trick, it’s just a scam.

Whether you call this “fraud” or a “Dark Pattern,” Consent-O-Matic has historic precedent that suggests that it could really make a difference. I’m thinking here of the original browser wars, where Netscape and Internet Explorer (and others like Opera) fought for dominance on the early web.

That early web had its own crapification: the ubiquitous pop-up ad. Merely opening a page could spawn dozens of pop-ups, some of them invisible 1px-by-1px dots, others that would run away from your cursor across the screen if you tried to close them, and they’d all be tracking you and auto-playing 8-bit music.

The pop-up ad was killed by the pop-up blocker. When browsers like Mozilla and Opera started blocking pop-ups by default, users switched to them in droves. That meant that an ever-smaller proportion of web users could even see a pop-up, which meant that advertisers stopped demanding pop-ups. Publishers — who knew their readers hated pop-ups but were beholden to advertisers to keep the lights on — were finally able to convince advertisers that pop-ups were a bad idea. Why pay for ads that no one will see?

Pop-up blockers are an early example of Adversarial Interoperability, AKA Competitive Compatibility (comcom for short). That’s the practice of improving an existing product or service by making an add-on or plug in that changes how it behaves to make it more responsive to its users’ interests, without permission from the original manufacturer:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

It’s been more than 20 years since the Platform for Privacy Preferences (P3P) tried to get tech companies to voluntarily recognize and honor their users’ privacy choices. It failed:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P3P

Do Not Track, another attempt to do the same, did not fare much better:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_Not_Track

But you know what actually worked? Tracker-blockers and ad-blockers, “the largest consumer boycott in history”:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

Making it impossible to track users is of great assistance to efforts to make it illegal to track users. Tools like Consent-O-Matic change the “security economics” of crapification, by turning the consent theater of illegal cookie popups into actual, GDPR-enforceable demands by users not to be tracked:

https://doctorow.medium.com/automation-is-magic-f4c1401d1f0d

Decrapifying the web is a long, slow process. It’s not just using interoperability to restore pluralism to the web, ending the era of “five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of text from the other four”:

https://twitter.com/tveastman/status/1069674780826071040

It’s also using a mix of technology and regulation to fight back against deliberate crapification. Between Consent-O-Rama, Reader Mode, Kill Sticky and Cookie Remover, it’s possible to decrapify much of your daily browsing and substantially improve your life.

[Image ID: A GDPR consent dialog with a rubber stamp in the center depicting a snarling man flipping the bird.]

#pluralistic #plural system

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semperintrepida · 5 years ago

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The Sellout, chapter six

six: the not date

Two hours before Kassandra was supposed to meet Kyra downtown, she paced beside the wall of windows in her condo and tried to keep her eyes away from her old nemesis, the clock. This wasn't the unforgiving squeeze of pressure in the final seconds of a basketball game or the relentless climb of lap times at the track. This was time moving at a glacial scale.

She paced, and wondered how many steps it would take to wear a groove into the concrete floor. She paced, and tried not to think of the ways Kyra's presence had filled this room so completely, or how Kyra had stood by this window and sat in that chair. She paced, because if she stopped, her footsteps would fade and she'd have to admit how fucking quiet it was in here.

Her tank top stuck to her skin as she moved, and she realized she was sweating. The room was too hot, but the numbers on the climate control were the same as they'd always been. Her heartbeat was up, her breathing fast and shallow. With some effort, she diverted her steps away from the windows to the wet bar, and when she picked up a glass and a bottle of bourbon, her hands were trembling slightly.

She tipped a healthy pour into the glass, along with an ice cube, and as she lifted the drink, it slipped from her hand and shattered on the granite bar top.

Motherfucker. At least it wasn't from the bottle of antique single barrel.

She dug out a bar towel and a trash bin, and swept the shards and liquid into the bin along with the towel for good measure. She dug out another towel for the floor. On her knees mopping up broken glass and now all her muscles were jittery, not just her hands.

Try again. Another pour — this time it was the antique single barrel to make up for how well her evening had been going so far. Careful now. The bourbon hit her like a caramel bomb, and it sat back and fumed vanilla while the taste of fruit and honey danced on her tongue for several seconds. Nearly 130 proof and it went down smooth as cream.

The drink wrapped around her like a cashmere bathrobe as she savored it and watched the sun's rays slant across the river. After a while, her muscles were steady again, but her heart was still a whirring motor forced to idle on the dragstrip, waiting for that green light to go.

She carried her drink with her into her bedroom, threw open the doors to her closet, and surveyed her wardrobe. Time to do battle with Portland's sartorial lawlessness.

Individuality ruled this place, and nothing was ever cool if anyone else did it too. It was the opposite of L.A., which never met a trend it didn't want to chase. Portland was reflexively anti-trend, and even those with money had changed their ways to compensate, trying to downplay their net worths through their choice of clothes.

In this town, the penalty for overdressing wasn't embarrassment — it was distrust.

Kyra had that antiauthoritarian streak too. Kassandra had never met someone so repulsed by her money. Most were the opposite, wanting to get real close to her real fast. She'd learned early on that people were best kept at arm's length.

She was eight years old the first time her mother spoke to her directly about money, old enough to understand that a private boarding school in upstate New York was not how most kids grew up. Most kids saw their parents more often than birthdays and Christmas — even her classmates, most of whom belonged to the Northeastern elites. She'd been a bargaining chip in a divorce between an American father and a Greek mother, and New York was where she'd landed in the settlement. She never saw her father, even though he lived in New York City and was the one paying her tuition. He was too busy becoming a billionaire. Her mother lived in London then, working as a diplomatic attaché in the Greek embassy. Kassandra had quickly learned not to miss either of them. On rare occasions, her mother would fly in for a few days to visit her. They'd spend most of their time together in awkward silence, or muddling through stilted conversations like near-strangers. In one of them, she'd complained about a schoolmate, one of the day-goers who lived in the town nearby, who kept asking her for things, like pens, or notebooks, or erasers; who'd treat her sweetly as long as she handed them over but cruelly whenever she refused. Her mother had looked at her with her opaque diplomat's gaze and said, You are a child of two families of wealth and power, Kassandra. Some recognize the resources you have, and want it only for themselves. They will try to take it from you. And Kassandra had nodded as if she understood.

Pens and notebooks became pocket money became real money soon enough. She didn't truly understand her mother's warning until she arrived at Stanford, but by then she'd learned there were benefits to having all those resources, too.

She could have damn near any woman she wanted, and she did, quite often. And when she was done, she put them back where she'd found them. She had no idea how big her cumulative hotel bill was from all those indulgences around the world, but it was probably enough to buy another home to go with the apartment in New York City, the flats in London and Athens, the house in Seattle, and the condo in San Francisco.

She sipped her bourbon and ran her hand along her collection of bespoke suits. Then she heard her mother's voice again, from some other memory in their distant past. The way we present ourselves to the world is a message, and a single glance will tell a stranger your taste, your means, and your confidence.

Odd, all these thoughts about her mother. She was back in Athens now, the Cabinet Minister of Economy and Development in the new government. Kassandra hadn't seen her in years. But she'd been right about the message a wardrobe could send, and as Kassandra pulled hangers off the rack, she wondered what message Kyra might be composing.

She set her drink aside and pulled on a pair of sand-colored trousers cut from fine English twill, a lightweight denim shirt in a medium wash, and a linen sport jacket the golden brown of a Cuban cigar. Would Kyra wear a flannel shirt to a fundraising gala? She'd probably get away with it if she did. Maybe she'd wear the lumberjack one and lean full tilt into Portland's "Stumptown" persona.

Kassandra frowned as she adjusted her collar in the mirror. A tie would be too formal for this audience, but to go without was unappealing. She browsed her drawers of neckties and accessories until she found a navy blue neckerchief and a matching pocket square. Perfect.

She imagined Kyra the lumberjack smirking into her own mirror at home. Hell, maybe she already had someone there to show off for, someone to ask, How do I look?

Then Kassandra fought back a sigh and lifted her wrist to unbuckle her watch, and in her bedroom's cavernous silence, she could hear the watch's mechanical movement tick-tick-ticking away.

.oOo.

Five minutes past seven o'clock, she was strolling up Alder Street in search of the right address when she heard a "Hey!" from a passing car, and looked over just in time to see Kyra emerge from the back seat of a taxi.

She'd guessed wrong. Kyra had left the flannel at home. Instead, she wore black on black on black: a long-sleeve button-down tucked into tight jeans cuffed at mid-calf over combat boots. She wasn't here to be charming; she was here to kick ass.

Kyra raked her with a glance. "You look... nice," she said, and it was hard to tell what flavor of nice she really meant.

Style lived and died by details, and Kassandra could take in all of Kyra's details now that she was standing up close. Kyra's shirt was fine linen, embroidered with small dots of charcoal grey thread in a pattern reminiscent of Dotted Swiss fabric. It gave the shirt texture and interest. Kassandra had never seen her without mascara and eyeliner on, but now she'd added red lipstick, a dash of color mirrored at the cuffs of her jeans, where the rolled fabric revealed red stitching.

And she'd pulled her hair up into an artfully messy bun, exposing the lines of her neck along with a silver necklace and circular pendant. All together, it was a bold, confident variation of what Kassandra was learning was her signature style. The only thing missing was her tattoos, hidden under long sleeves.

Kassandra swallowed into a suddenly dry mouth. "So do you." She meant it.

The smallest hint of color crept into Kyra's cheeks. "So," she said before the pause grew awkward. "Who am I supposed to be tonight? A friend, or..."

"A friend would be fine." More than that would be dangerous for Kassandra. She'd have to be satisfied seeing Kyra struggle to hide how much she despised her.

Kassandra gestured towards the massive wooden door behind them. "Shall we?" A carved wooden sign was affixed to the wall beside the door that read, Multnomah Whiskey Library, Members Only.

She pulled the door open and let Kyra pass through first.

"So this is the infamous Whiskey Library," Kyra said once inside.

"Ever been here before?"

Kyra snorted. "Fuck no. I'm not paying for the privilege of paying for drinks I could easily make at home." She peered into a glass display case as she passed. "Okay maybe I don't have any twelve hundred dollar bottles of bourbon. But I could make you a damn good cocktail, so good you wouldn't even miss it."

I could make you a damn good cocktail. "Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Make me a cocktail sometime."

She shrugged. "Maybe. You're a decent tipper. That's earned you some points."

"You'd actually make me pay for it?"

"We're not friends yet," she said breezily. "And I don't work for free."

The doorway to the greatroom beckoned. Kassandra leaned close to Kyra and whispered in her ear. "We're supposed to be. Tonight." Close enough to catch Kyra's scent: a faint hint of coffee, and the spice of some aromatic wood. Cedar maybe, ancient and heady, wafting from the sun-warmed deck of a Kyprian trireme as it cleaved the clear blue waves of the Aegean...

The pleasant image dissipated when Kyra came to an abrupt halt just inside the greatroom. She craned her neck, taking in the sight of heavy oak beams and crystal chandeliers hanging high over brick walls paneled with mahogany. The entire back of the room was dominated by the bar, an imposing structure made of even more mahogany, crowned by shelves packed with bottles. The bartenders wore waistcoats and ties with their shirts, and used an antique library ladder to reach the bottles on the upper tiers.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to hop over that bar to fix you something right now."

Kassandra laughed. "No. However, I am expecting you to have a nice time." And to have a chat with her target. If her hunch proved true, he'd find Kyra very intriguing indeed.

"I'll drink to that," Kyra said drily.

The room was filling up. They moved through the throng, pausing here and there as Kassandra greeted those she knew, until they reached the bar.

Kyra wandered off to order, while Kassandra recognized a man standing nearby as one of the Multnomah County commissioners.

"Chuck Meeran?" She offered her hand. "Kassandra Agiadis. So wonderful to finally meet you."

His handshake was as carefully modulated as any politicians' and he had to tilt his head up to look in her eyes. She could see the wheels turning as he tried to place her name, then the slight widening of recognition. "Ms. Agiadis. It's a pleasure." Only a fractional stumble over the unfamiliar pronunciation of her name. Not bad. He flashed her a friendly smile. "I take it you're not here on coffee business?"

She smiled to match his own. "I'm just a civilian tonight," she said. She glanced at the drink in his hand and pulled on an air of confused helplessness. "I've never been here before, is there a drink you'd recommend?" Men never relaxed around her until they felt themselves superior in some way. Sometimes it paid to speed the process along.

"First time at the Library, really?"

She leaned closer and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but I just moved here from Seattle." A wink and a smile. Maybe a donation to his re-election campaign later. Greasing the wheels, for the day when one of her companies needed a zoning change, or a variance.

"Ahh yes. As a Timbers fan, I'll try not to hold it against you," he said generously. "Now let's see, if you like a lot of rye..."

She half-listened as he incorrected himself, while sneaking glances up the bar at Kyra, who was leaning conspiratorially in conversation with one of the bartenders — a stocky woman, tidy in her wool waistcoat and polka-dot pocket square. Kassandra felt her eyes narrow, and only after some effort did she manage to wrangle her face back to neutral as the Commissioner blathered on.

It took a few minutes, but Kassandra extracted herself from the conversation with a promise to schedule lunch "very soon" and a glass of some unremarkable bourbon in her hand.

Kyra and the bartender were chuckling over some shared joke. "Seriously," she said, rolling her eyes as the bartender chuckled some more and moved away to take another order.

Kyra leaned back against the bar as Kassandra approached. "Jesus, you weren't kidding about all the Patagucci vests."

"It's a thing," Kassandra said. Even trend-hating Portland wasn't immune to the plague of finance and tech bros who'd decided that fleece vests were the pinnacle of style. "I don't understand it myself."

The area around the bar was starting to get crowded. Kyra pushed herself away from it to let a laughing couple move past. She sipped her drink and studied the assembled guests. "Why am I here tonight, Kassandra?"

Kassandra led her to a slightly more quiet corner of the room. "I want you to meet someone."

"Are they here yet?"

Was she that anxious to leave already? Kassandra hoped not, because her target seemed to be missing. She scanned the crowd again just to be sure, using her height to full advantage. No sign of him. "No, not yet."

Kyra's gaze settled upon her. "I bet you go to shit like this all the time."

"More than I'd like to."

After that, silence. Maybe Kyra had run out of things to say, because supposed to be friends wasn't at all like they actually were.

Closed or open. Those were Kassandra's options. Stay closed, and stand in awkward silence or chat about small, safe subjects. Or she could open up, reveal a little of herself and hope that Kyra might follow. "I spend hours and hours a day talking to people. Sometimes I just want to sit with a book and a glass of bourbon."

Kyra nodded. "I get that. Sometimes it's like... if I have to listen to one more story about someone's day, I'm gonna go mad. Maybe I'd like someone to ask me about my day for once."

"People want a side of therapy with their latte."

"All for four bucks," she said. "But don't get me wrong. Customer service is my gig, and I like it well enough, it's just..."

"Too much of anything will kill you," Kassandra said agreeably.

Kyra eyed her over the edge of her glass. "What about you? If you didn't have to be here, what hot book would you be on a date with?"

To Kassandra's surprise, Kyra's voice held none of her usual mocking tone. She thought of the half-finished translation of Sappho she'd been working on. Kyra would probably roll her eyes and think it horrifically pretentious.

Kyra made Kassandra want to edit herself to impress her. "I've... been reading a lot of poetry lately." A bad answer, but it would give her time to wrack her brain for a good one.

"Oh? Like what?"

A commotion at the front of the room saved her. She looked up, saw a man posing dramatically within the frame of the greatroom's doorway, and smiled.

He strolled into the room: blonde and beautiful as a Greek god. He wasn't Aphrodite emerging from the waves, but a man named Alkibiades, known more for his wit and insatiable appetite for hedonism than his generosity. And if Kassandra was going to win this evening, she'd need to convince him to change his ways, if only for a little while.

Kyra's attention followed Kassandra's lead, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of him. "You want me to talk to Alki Henriksen? Climbing Magazine coverboy Alki Henriksen?"

Kassandra grinned. "Yeah."

"What am I supposed to do, just walk up to him and chat him up?"

"Of course not. I'll make an introduction." Or she would, if she knew Kyra's last name. God damn it. How had she overlooked that important detail?

"You know him?" Kyra was saying, between incredulous head shakes. "Of course you do."

She'd never seen Kyra this... flustered. It was delightful. "Don't tell me you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous," she said a little too quickly. She knocked back the rest of her drink and handed the empty glass to a passing waiter. "Well, what's the plan?"

First, the matter of Kyra's name. "Do you have a business card?"

Kyra shot her a suspicious look, but didn't argue, just reached into her back pocket and pulled out a stack of cards, sliding one off the top and handing it over.

Cliffhanger Coffee Kyra Delianos, Proprietor

No way. Kyra was a fellow Greek. Kassandra's mind flooded with questions. Did she speak Greek? How did she end up in Portland of all places? But now wasn't the time to ask. She shoved her curiosity into her pocket along with the card.

One last thing. She reached for Kyra's wrist, but stopped before making contact. "May I?"

"Okay..." Kyra's brows wrinkled. "Wait, why?" she asked, but she didn't pull away when Kassandra gently lifted her arm and began rolling up her shirtsleeve.

"You have more credibility than anyone else in this room. You own a business here, but you're also a part of this community," Kassandra said as she folded the fabric, her heart jumping every time her fingers brushed Kyra's skin. "And you very clearly don't look like someone who lives in Lake Oswego or West Linn." Stepford, cookie-cutter suburbs, filled with what passed for the wealthy in this part of the country. "It's worth emphasizing that you're a patron and constituent. To this particular audience, that carries weight." She finished the cuff, then moved on to the second sleeve.

Kyra looked skeptical but didn't say anything, just dropped her eyes to watch Kassandra's hands work the fabric of her shirt.

Kassandra smoothed the cuff just above Kyra's elbow, then ran a fingertip down the delicately shaded lines of the tattoo she'd revealed. "Besides, I think they're beautiful." And with that, she turned and stepped into the crowd.

Time to go fishing.

She cast her line easily enough, edging through the crowd that had gathered around Alkibiades and hooking him with a simple, "Walk with me?" They weren't exactly friends, but their history was such that it was enough to get him to join her without question.

Kyra, to her credit, hadn't moved from where Kassandra had left her, and she greeted their arrival with a casual ease. No sign of the nervous fluster of before.

"Now Alki," Kassandra said. "I know you get so bored talking to the same stale people at these things, and you know I can't tell a cam from a carabiner, so I brought you someone who does." She turned her gaze to Kyra. "Kyra, this is Alkibiades Henriksen. Alki, this is Kyra Delianos."

They shook hands. "Alki's short for Alkibiades?" she asked.

He grinned. "My mother had a flair for the dramatic."

"Kyra owns a coffee shop here in town," Kassandra said. "Cliffhanger, off of Belmont."

"Cliffhanger, you say? I like you already."

Kyra's eyes flicked over her and back. "I'm so glad Kassandra introduced us, because I owe you a thank you."

"Oh?"

"One of your ropes saved my life once."

Kassandra had chosen wisely. Kyra knew how to work a conversation, balancing her compliments with questions to get him to talk about himself and his company, and soon enough they were discussing things like the hand feel of synthetic fibers and dynamic versus static elongation and Kassandra took that as her cue to step back and get out of the way.

A tall, trim man in a sport jacket wandered past her elbow. "Merritt!" she said with a smile as she joined him. He owned the top tier men's and women's teams in this soccer-obsessed city. "How nice to see you. And how are your Timbers and Thorns..."

.oOo.

For the next half hour, Kassandra worked the room with a smile, a firm handshake, and a stack of business cards. She spoke with a tipsy neurologist from OHSU; a partner at some law firm with a comically long name she'd already forgotten; and a creative director at Wieden+Kennedy, who was all too happy to tell her how they'd picked the locations to animate in this year's anime-inspired advert for the Oregon tourism board.

Alki caught up to her as she finished her circuit of the room. "Kassandra! I really must thank you."

"For?"

"That introduction." He nodded over the crowd towards Kyra, who was off in a corner chatting with a few other guests. "She's exquisite. Like a wild tigress. Is she yours?"

"No. And she'd better not hear you say that or you'll end up wearing your balls for a necklace."

"So not yet."

"She can barely stand to be in the same room with me." What the fuck was she doing, letting that slip? There was something about him that disarmed her in the most inconvenient times.

His face lit up. "She's fair game, then?"

Careful, Kassandra. She smiled at him while taking a slow and measured breath through her nose. "You'd have to ask her."

He dropped his mouth open and pressed his hand against his chest. "Tamping down your anger on my behalf? Are you trying to turn me on?" Then he laughed. "I never thought I'd see the mighty Kassandra sell herself short. Your tigress only has eyes for you, darling."

Kassandra found herself meeting Kyra's gaze across the room, but before she could nod, or smile, or do anything at all, Kyra looked away abruptly.

"I know carnal interest when I see it," he said sagely.

"It'll never happen."

"Why not? Did you kick her puppy or something? No, don't give me that look. I know you're no puppy kicker. Stealing her puppy for yourself would be more your style."

She ignored him. "Have you forgotten who I work for?"

His eyes widened as he connected the dots. "Oh dear, that is awkward." He paused, considering. "But look at you, still trying anyway. I admire your persistence in the face of adversity."

"You're speaking to me like you know me well."

"Oh, but it's true. Like recognizing like. It's what we do, you and I: float high above it all to keep everyone from coming too close. But sometimes one of those pesky mortals becomes too captivating to resist." He lifted a brow over clear grey eyes and fine, androgynous features. "Is she worth coming down from Olympus for?"

She found herself gritting her teeth. "You don't know a fucking thing about me."

"Come now, Kassandra. All this sexual tension's making you mean."

To hell with him and his money. She was this close to writing off the bet she'd made and telling him something she'd regret. But then she'd be wasting all of Kyra's efforts, and setting back the Library's fundraising as well. She took a breath, then laughed a laugh that said Let's change the subject. "We've been talking far too much about me," she said. "So, what magazine cover did you land this quarter?"

He was all too happy to tell her about his latest climbing adventure, to Peru this time, and then the conversation shifted as it always did to his ambitions for Vertus, the climbing gear company he'd founded.

"Then Kyra flat-out told me that Vertus had no reputation other than making 'bombproof' gear."

That did sound Kyra-esque.

"And then she said if I wanted to be Yvon Chouinard, I'd have to start acting like him."

Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia, Inc., known for his activism and philanthropic efforts. "She's got a point, and she's not shy about stabbing people with it."

"Is she that candid with you?" he asked, smiling as Kassandra nodded. "Oh to have a front row seat in the theatre when that happens." He paused in thought. "Well. Between the two of you, I've had a wonderfully enlightening time this evening. But I'm sure you invited me here for a reason, Kassandra."

Her smile was small and knowing and there was no need for her to say more.

"I'd love to see my name at the top of the generosity leaderboard tonight," he said. "How many digits do you think it would take?"

"Six."

"For you darling, my wallet's wide, wide open."

.oOo.

A short while later, Kassandra was camped near the bar with a well-deserved victory drink in hand. No way she was losing this bet now. She couldn't wait to see the look on—

"So that was Alki Henriksen."

Kassandra turned and found Kyra walking up to join her. "It sure was."

"Did you get what you wanted?" she asked. "Scratch that, I can already tell. You're just reeking of smug satisfaction."

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"You're welcome." There was humor in her voice. "He said the two of you met at a Blazers game."

"We did, yeah."

"He also said you used to play, once." She gave Kassandra an appraising look. "Were you any good?"

Kassandra shrugged, her edges still raw from her earlier conversation with him. "I was all right."

A voice spoke from behind her. "'All right'? She was the best player in the country three years in a row."

Kassandra turned with a grin. "Hello, Roxana."

They embraced, briefly, as Kyra watched them with thinly-veiled curiosity. Roxana squeezed Kassandra's hands and stepped back to study her. "'course I'll never fucking forgive you for knocking us out of the Final Four."

Stanford versus Cal, that never-ending Bay Area rivalry. They'd split their regular season games that year and traded spots in the rankings back and forth until tournament time, and then everything came down to one game, win or go home, Stanford down one point and only two seconds left on the clock...

"You were guarding me so close it took a fucking circus shot to win that game," Kassandra said.

"Only you would have taken that shot — and only you could have made it."

They grinned at each other until Kassandra remembered her manners. "Roxana, this is Kyra. Kyra, Roxana." The two of them shook hands like two leopards meeting: an instant sizing up of the other, shoulders pulling back, spines straightening.

"Nice to meet you," Kyra said.

"The pleasure's mine." Roxana shifted her gaze between Kyra and Kassandra and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I interrupted you two, but this was my first chance to say hello all evening."

"It's been what, five years since we've seen each other?"

"Near enough."

"How are the kids?"

"Kiana's on a good travel team and thinks she's going to play for Stanford. I don't know if I'm going to survive wearing your colors for four years."

"She's got plenty of time to change her mind."

Kyra lifted her empty glass. "Excuse me a moment," she said.

She cut through the crowd with a feline grace. Kassandra turned back to Roxana to find her smiling curiously. "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that."

"I'm not sure what I think of this new humble, evasive you."

Damn, it was good to see her. She'd always been beautiful, and over the years, she'd found contentment in a balance of family and career that had only deepened her beauty. Roxana wasn't the one who got away, but a vision of what might have been.

What might have been, if they'd been able to make a long-distance relationship work while Roxana was playing ball in Russia and trying to catch on to a WNBA roster. What might have been, if Kassandra had never gotten into the back of that towncar with her father, not knowing that she was about to be driven straight into a car wreck that would tear her and her life to shreds.

Roxana had tried — she'd tried harder than anyone else — but when Kassandra finally got out of the hospital, she was too far gone, too into her anger, too busy pushing everyone away while she tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do with her life now that basketball had been canceled from her equation.

"It's good to see you," she told Roxana. "And I'm going to win our bet, just so you know."

"Now there's the Kassandra I know and love."

"Nike still running you ragged?"

"I flew in from Boston last night. We're going all in with Eliud — if anyone's going to run a sub-two-hour marathon, it's going to be him."

"I can't think of anyone better to lead that charge," she said, smiling as Roxana wrestled with the compliment. "So what have I missed in five years?" she asked, but as she listened to Roxana tell her of what might have been, her eyes kept drifting to the crowd, looking for Kyra and the possibility of what might be.

.oOo.

It wasn't until the fundraiser was winding down that Kyra found her at the bar.

She'd left Kyra alone to mingle without distraction, and every time she'd caught a glimpse of Kyra in the crowd, she'd been deep in conversation with someone new. Good. Let her build that network.

"They're saying Alki pledged half a million tonight," she said without preamble. "No one else came close."

Kassandra smiled into the last of her drink and finished it off. "Mmmhmm."

"That's a lot of money," she said. Then she gave Kassandra a sideways glance and added, "Not for you, I'm sure, but..."

Any answer from Kassandra's mouth would be wrong. That topic had too many dangerous currents, was too perilous to their friendly façade. "Did you have a nice time tonight, at least?" Safer waters.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Nearly ten o'clock. She'd overstayed her deadline by an hour.

"But not for long."

That confused her, but then she followed Kassandra's eyes to the area behind bar, where the bartenders were moving racks of glassware and wiping down the bartop, cleaning up after the fundraiser and getting ready to reopen for the bar's private clientele.

They got the hint, and headed for the exit.

"This carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin. Or a speakeasy," Kyra said. Then she gave herself a self-deprecating snort. "That was a terrible metaphor. It's not even close to midnight."

On the sidewalk outside, they stopped and looked at each other, both trying to figure out something to say.

Kyra beat her to it. "I did have a really nice time," she said, and there was an ember of warmth to her that hadn't been there before.

Kassandra wanted more of it. "Would you like to grab a—"

"Kassandra! You weren't going to leave without gloating over your victory, were you?"

Fuck. She turned to Roxana in time to be enveloped in a bear hug. "Actually, I was—"

"Alki Henriksen opening his wallet. Unbelievable. I thought I had you beat for sure after I got Tim and Merritt to sign on."

At the edge of her vision, she could see Kyra's features freeze over. Fuckfuckfuck.

Roxana smiled at her fondly. "You should join me on the Library board, you know. We could use you."

It took Kassandra a moment to regain her wits. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long to say yes." She checked her phone. "There's my Uber, I've got to run. Lunch sometime? Soon."

"Yes, for sure."

Then Roxana disappeared into the back of her ride. She'd left Kassandra on the sidewalk and taken all the air on the street with her.

Kassandra turned slowly. "Kyra, I—"

"You used me."

"To raise more money than I could have on my own."

"So you could win a bet. That's all this was to you. Another chance for you to lift some trophy in your own mind," she said, her voice as sharp as a blade. Then she turned on her heel and stalked off.

"Where are you going?"

She didn't stop, didn't turn around. "On a walk."

"At this time of night?"

She ignored the question, putting more and more distance between them.

"Fuck," Kassandra muttered, then hurried in pursuit, falling into step beside Kyra, close enough to be caught in the splash zone of Kyra's seething anger.

Kyra kept her eyes straight ahead. "What are you doing?"

"Walking with you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"I don't care," Kassandra said. "You want to go somewhere? I'll see you there safely. You want to walk around, aimlessly? We'll walk around, aim—"

Kyra took two quick steps and pulled ahead, then whirled around and stopped square in Kassandra's path, somehow filling the entire sidewalk with her immovable presence. "Stop it," she said, raising both hands in front of her. "Just... stop." Her eyes searched Kassandra's face. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

Sudden pain was something Kassandra knew. A lowered shoulder bashing into her chest hard enough to crack ribs. A highside flinging her from her dirtbike onto the rocks. And now she had another entry for the list: a few simple words in the shape of a question. "If that's what you want, say it, and you won't see me again."

Kyra stared at her, and Kassandra felt herself standing up straighter, her spine and ribs tightening as if pulled by a great winch; her body closing the gates and readying the defenses.

Then Kyra laughed, the sound as thin and brittle as the shards from a broken window, and just as dangerously sharp. "I want a fucking drink."

She walked away, and Kassandra followed helplessly after her. One block up, another block over, and then Kyra headed straight for a hole in the wall with the discouraging name of "Scooter McQuades" printed on a boxy sign that flickered fluorescently into the night.

If the Oxford English Dictionary had an entry for "dive bar," it couldn't do any better than a description of this place: a dimly lit snapshot of the early nineties, where the music was abrasive and loud, and decades of grime stained the walls.

The woman behind the bar looked over at them and smiled. "Kyra! I'll be damned."

It was interesting, how quickly Kyra could relax in the right circumstances. Like a light switch flipping.

"Ann! I didn't think you'd be working tonight." She smiled apologetically. "It's been too long, I know."

"You're busy. I'm busy. It's all good." The bartender was older, maybe in her fifties, dark hair streaked with grey and faded tattoos on her forearms. Cotton-candy pinks and blues. But her movements behind the bar were as clean and purposeful as a scalpel and her eyes were lively with humor. She quirked an eyebrow just long enough to give Kassandra an appraising gaze, then turned back to Kyra.

"What are ya hankerin' for, love?"

"PBR and tots."

Then it was Kassandra's turn. "What'll it be for you?"

Kyra interrupted before she could open her mouth. "She'll have a PBR, too."

"How do you like them tots?"

"Cajun."

"Won't take but a minute, I promise." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "Well, don't just stand there, have a seat, both of you. Booth, bar, pick your poison."

Kyra chose a booth near the windows. The cracked vinyl seats had once been emerald green, but time had faded them to a dull moss, and someone had patched the worst of the wear with strips of black tape. At least the top of the table seemed clean.

Kyra leaned back against the vinyl and stared at her.

Kassandra had been grilled by hostile lawyers in the courtroom and shouted at by C-level blowhards in the boardroom, but nothing compared to the withering scrutiny she was getting in this dive bar — and Kyra hadn't even said a fucking word.

The drinks came, along with a steaming basket of tater tots, and in moments the booth smelled of beer and fried potatoes. Kyra tossed a soggy cardboard coaster emblazoned with "Kilkenny" in front of her, then placed a pint of PBR upon it.

"Drink it."

She did. It was better than she thought. Better than she remembered, during those beer-soaked college days when she played hard and partied harder, a different sorority girl in her bed every night.

Kyra sipped her own beer and nodded at the bottles of Jameson lined up at the end of the bar. "I want that bottle of whiskey. But I know I shouldn't have it." She popped a tater tot into her mouth, chewed thoughtfully. Reached across the table for the bottle of ketchup. Shook it forcefully and tapped out a puddle onto a paper-lined corner of the basket.

Kassandra couldn't remember the last time she'd had a tater tot. College, maybe? She picked one out and ate it. Spicy heat. Paprika and cayenne and plenty of MSG, probably, the flavors floating on a raft of grease and fluffy potato. It was good, and as comforting as a warm blanket.

She glanced at the ketchup bottle. Not Heinz, something local. Organic, artisanal ketchup in a dive bar, reminding her that she was still in Portland after all.

Ann bustled by with a tray full of pints destined for another table.

Kyra nodded in her direction. "She's owned this place something like twenty-five years," she said. "That's what I want. I want my shop to last." She pushed the corner of her beer coaster with a fingertip. "But I don't think that's going to happen."

She moved her finger in a slow arc, spinning the coaster. Her glass spun with it, leaving a wet trail behind on the tabletop.

"I don't have a safety net, Kassandra. I don't have any family left, and my money's tied up in my shop. If I fuck up, it's all on me." Her hand stilled. "And I think about that every single time I have to make a decision about the shop or about money. It's always there in the back of my mind. Always."

She pushed the coaster hard enough for the beer in the glass to slosh from side to side.

"I'm not telling you this because I want your pity. I chose this business. It's just... I have a lot to lose, but my everything wouldn't even be a blip on your radar."

"I understand."

Her smile was patient. "No you don't, but that's okay."

She tipped a tater tot into the pool of ketchup. Fished it out. Ate it.

"My lease is up this fall, and judging by that look on your face, you know exactly what that means for me. I'll get to play the negotiation game with my landlord, trying to get to a place where the rent increase won't crush me."

Kassandra thought of the shiny new furniture store next door to the coffee shop. The deck was stacked against Kyra; all that outside money pouring into the neighborhood was there for one purpose: to raise rents.

"So I'm still thinking about your offer, because I'd be a fool not to."

"There's no universe in which I'd ever mistake you for a fool."

Silence, then. Maybe she'd killed the conversation. Maybe Kyra just wanted to sit in peace and drink her beer and eat some tater tots, and forget for a moment that she was the only one holding up the weight of her world.

The world revolved around money. Kassandra saw the windows of the coffee shop going dark, the bar and chairs and tables vanishing, a FOR LEASE sign pasted up against the glass. Outside money. Kyra's problem was the kind of problem she could solve.

One tater tot left. Kyra's brow arched in silent question, and Kassandra shook her head in a take it motion.

Kassandra finished her beer, and watched the remnants of foam slide down the walls of the glass. After a while, she cleared her throat, looked at Kyra, and said, "So, how was your day?"

Kyra blinked, but then a slow smile spread across her lips. "It was interesting," she said. "I had the day off, so I climbed all morning and spent the afternoon figuring out what the hell I was going to wear tonight." Then she laughed, more from disbelief than humor. "And then I go to this fundraiser with no idea what to expect, and end up talking to Alki fucking Henriksen, the god of climbing. He wants to meet about doing a collab with my shop. I never would have dreamed of that being a possibility. Never. Though I'm sure he's just trying to get in my pants."

"He wants both. Business and pleasure." Like recognizing like.

"It's tempting; he is a beautiful man."

They'd make a striking couple. The thought of it was vertiginous. She kept her face blank and her mouth shut as she studied the worn formica next to her glass.

"But I already have enough of a distraction on my plate."

Kassandra nodded. "I know." Everything kept circling back to the same place.

Silence for several seconds, then Kyra spoke again. "I wish our circumstances were different."

That made Kassandra look up. "So do I."

"Do you? Would you even notice me if I was some rando on the street, I wonder." Then she waved one hand dismissively while tipping back her head to drain her beer with the other. The glass hit the table with a bang, and she slid it aside. "No, don't answer that. I've got to open the shop early tomorrow."

Kassandra grabbed the check before Kyra's glass came to a stop. She dropped cash on the table, then picked up the pen and receipt and wrote her number at the bottom.

"What's this?" Kyra said as Kassandra pushed it in front of her.

"My phone number, if you ever need it. Or if your opinion about our circumstances ever changes."

For a moment, she thought Kyra might not take it. But Kyra did, her fingers gracefully folding the paper before slipping it into her front pocket. And then they were standing, and Kyra was saying goodbye to Ann, and they were walking outside to stand face-to-face on the sidewalk. Déjà vu.

They stared at each other.

In the backwash of fluorescent light, Kyra's eyes were sheened with black opal. "I was kinda hoping I'd have a horrible time tonight," she said, and she reached out and tucked a stray lock of Kassandra's hair back behind her ear, and then her fingers drifted down to the lapel of Kassandra's jacket, and over to the knot on Kassandra's neckerchief, and she gave it a gentle tug, and smoothed its tails so they hung neatly. "I really was."

She stepped back, and her eyes said something in a language Kassandra hadn't yet learned how to read.

"Will you text me?" Kassandra asked.

"I don't know." Her gaze moved past Kassandra's shoulder. "Oh, I want that taxi."

Three long strides and Kassandra was in the street, flagging it down, opening the door.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," she said as Kyra settled into the back seat.

"Wait, how are you getting home?"

"Walking. It's not far." Then she closed the door, flashed a smirk and a wave as Kyra rolled her eyes and the taxi pulled away.

Chapter six of The Sellout.

#kyssandra #kassandra #ac odyssey #coffee shop au #okay so this is like the longest thing ever #but it also needed to be #god this fic is such an indulgence lol #i had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this #the sellout

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mymelodyheart · 5 years ago

Text

Starting Over Chapter 10 ~The Severance~

Someone's following me!

Claire first noticed she was being watched when she'd glanced up from browsing a shelf at a bookstore. The man looked to be in his early thirties and was wearing faded jeans and a white shirt that had a logo she couldn't make out. He had thick brown hair and Jamie's height and breadth, and she'd sensed a familiarity about him. When their gaze met, he'd smiled at her, then turned and walked away. She didn't think much more of it after that, other than he was handsome and had a kind face.

Then she'd seen him again in her periphery at the coffee shop where she'd had a quick espresso, and later at the pharmacy while paying for her goods. Trying not to worry and seem paranoid, she put it down to coincidence. The last few days had been quite trying enough attempting to slot in back to work, and she was determined not to let her woes of Frank mar her day-off. But when the stranger took the same turns as her while strolling along the street, panic began to mount. A lot of thoughts tumbled into her mind, but one theory jumped out. The stranger could be someone Frank had sent to intimidate her.

She was about to flag a taxi down when she realised she wasn't far from where Jamie lived. He'd given her his address last night when he'd come over for a visit, in case she was in the vicinity and wanted to pop in. With no time to think, she ran all the way to his apartment building, shopping bags flapping at her side. She was relieved to see someone come out, saving her from waiting to be buzzed in. Swiftly, she slipped through the opening, and when she heard the running footsteps and the stranger calling out to her, she quickly pushed the heavy door shut and ran up the stairs.

In no time, she found Jamie's apartment on the second floor, and after a round of vigorous rapping, his door opened.

"Sassenach!"

Sweet Mother of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! He was shirtless, and his grey sweatpants hung low on his lean hips. Like a brazen hussy, her gaze automatically dipped to his beautifully sculpted abs, past his belly button. "I'm being followed," she wheezed, chest heaving, unable to tear her gaze from the trail of dark copper hair that disappeared underneath the waistband of his pants.

"What do ye mean ye're being followed? Frank?"

She gulped air and shook her head, clutching her middle. Oh, dear, God! Her sides hurt from the exertion of running, and the sight of his naked upper body was making it even more challenging to talk. She definitely needed to do more exercise and to learn more restrain when it came to looking at naked bodies, all in that order. "I think he was sent by Frank ...a-a very tall man. He's been watching me all morning." Then she stilled, and her eyes flew to his face when she heard the main entrance door open, and heavy, resounding footsteps on the lobby's floor. "That's him, I think," she whispered. "He was right behind me. Someone probably let him in."

"Are ye sure?" he cocked his head toward the staircase. "It could be a reporter that was following ye. Have ye thought of that?"

Her eyes widened. No. She hadn't thought of that. When she'd left her cottage this morning, taking the bus instead of her car, she'd noticed the paparazzi van parked down the street, had disappeared. The saying out of sight, out of mind seemed to ring true as she'd forgotten about them. And even out in public view, no one had recognised nor taken notice of her, making her complacent and negligent.

"A reporter? We could get photographed."

He arched an eyebrow at her dropped jaw. "Wasn't that the plan, Sassenach?"

"Plan?" she squeaked. She remembered the idea she had proposed to Jamie and how they had agreed on it. But she hadn't been anticipating this to happen so soon. A sudden fluttering-butterfly-wings-feeling tickled her neck, and her attention funnelled down to the steady footsteps climbing up the stairs and the half-naked man before her. No one else was in the corridor of the second floor but them. Uh-oh!

Caught unaware, he gently pried the shopping bags from her hands and placed them by the entrance. And then with deliberate slowness, he walked her backwards till she hit the wall and lifted his hand to cradle her jaw. "Ye still want to do this?" His sky-blue eyes turned dark as it strayed to her mouth. "It's yer call. We have an advantage ... we can decide what they see. And whatever happens, we're in this together."

Her biggest worry wasn't the photographer. It was her heart. Claire had been crushing on Jamie for as long as she could remember and she'd accepted long ago, he was just a secret fantasy she'd indulged herself. But that was then and from afar. And this, here and now, was a totally different ball game. She'd seen sides of him she'd never seen before and every day she was beginning to like every discovery of that facet. Would she still be able to maintain that level of objectivity after their fake relationship was over? Standing before Jamie, she couldn't even summon to feel any sadness of her recent lost love, let alone conjure a memory of Frank's face.

The footsteps became louder, and Jamie inched closer, his rapid breathing creating havoc to her senses. "Sassenach?" he whispered, his mouth hovering over hers as he waited for her consent.

Hesitation warred with need, but this had been her idea, and she wasn't about to let him down after everything he'd done for her. If the price for getting him his dream job was future heartache, she could at least console herself with the fact she didn't end up with Frank. Swallowing her nerves, she placed her hands on his chest and lifted herself on tiptoes. "What are you waiting for? Kiss me then."

Jamie drew slightly back, smiled and then their lips brushed. In an instant, she was swept up mentally and physically by the pulse-pounding sensation. It wasn't a kiss as such but more of a savouring the moment as they breathed each other's partially opened mouth. She felt his heart hammering against her hands, and his thumb caressing the underside of her jaw. It was heavenly, sweet and torturous at the same time as he continued to hold back. And then he moved in, so indecently close ...

"Oops, sorry I'll come back another time."

Both their heads snapped to the direction of the voice, and she flinched at Jamie's muttered profanity. They had both forgotten the approaching footsteps.

"Willie!"

Giving her an apologetic look, Jamie drew away, but his arm remained around her. "This is my older brother, Sassenach. I wasn't expecting him until later." Then he tugged her hand, urging her to step forward. "Willie, I'd like ye to meet my ..."

"Claire ...my name is Claire," she interrupted, heat and pink fanning out on her face as she shook Willie's hand. She'd sensed Jamie was about to introduce her as his girlfriend, but she wasn't ready for their fake relationship to officially start. Especially not with a member of his family present. And as it turned out, Jamie's brother was the same man she had thought was following her. Up close, she can now see his slight resemblance to Jamie. They had the same intense blue eyes and frame, but that's where their similarities ended. Jamie's russet-coloured locks were a stark contrast to Willie's dark chocolate waves, and whereas Willie looked physically fit, Jamie had a more toned compact body of an elite athlete.

"Please to meet ye, Claire. I'm sorry for scaring ye earlier. Ye looked so familiar, and I couldnae help but stare and wonder." He grinned and then winked at his brother. "Dinnae bother about me. I can come back another time, but I'm glad to finally meet the beautiful runaway bride."

Jamie groaned. "Fuck sake, please don't refer to her like that again. She's getting enough pelters at work."

"Ach, keep yer heid, lad." Willie play-punched his brother on the shoulder before facing her. "Everyone in Lallybroch is dying to meet ye, Claire. We never had a chance the last time because Jamie here was too busy keeping ye to himself and snogging ye in secret."

"Willie ..." Jamie warned, his ears turning a deep shade of red.

"Oh, I guess the whole world knows now," she murmured.

Willie's mouth twitched in amusement. "Not quite but if ye come to ma's Sunday lunch this coming weekend, ye can tell us all about it. What say ye?"

Before she could reply, Jamie butted in. "Do ye mind if ye wait inside?" he asked his brother, jerking his thumb towards his apartment. "I need to speak to Claire in private."

"Ah, yes, of course ...sure." Willie smiled knowingly at them as if they were up to no good. "Think about Sunday lunch, Claire. Ma makes the best lamb roast, and it would be great to have ye there too," he added before disappearing into the apartment.

Once they were alone, Jamie let out a soft sigh and tilted her chin. "I'm so sorry about that, Sassenach. So, where were we before we got rudely interrupted?"

"Jamie!" she jerked her head up. "Are you serious?"

"Do I seem like I'm joking?"

"There's no paparazzi!"

"I'm aware of that."

Attempting to disguise her rioting nerves, she lowered her eyes. Jamie had already warned her last night they were playing a dangerous game. And even though it was against the one single rule, she'd made for herself, her body craved for his touch and his kiss.

"You want to kiss me even without the paparazzi?"

Jamie gripped her chin. "I do. But fair warning, Sassenach. If ye agree to let me kiss ye, I'm not letting ye leave." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "I'm applying a lot of restraint here, so if ye want to stay, make the next move, otherwise ..."

"... don't allow you to kiss me," she finished off.

He stroked her hair and smiled wistfully. "I couldnae say it out loud ...it's too sad."

She almost laughed. In her current state, it was too easy to succumb to her physical needs, but he was giving her a chance to think it over and make a choice. She'd come to learn that although Jamie may be stubborn in a lot of ways, not once had he ever pressured her to do anything she didn't want. While he was best known for his ways with women, what she saw right now was not cockiness but confidence that came from a place of maturity and respect. And she liked that very much.

"Jamie, I ...umm ..." She frantically searched for words as desire and logic played tug of war.

"You're not staying," he sighed, his hands dropping heavily on her shoulders. Although he smiled, she saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "It's okay, Sassenach. I understand. It's too soon."

It was hard to believe he was affected by a simple kiss as she was when he'd been with so many women. But she reminded herself Jamie wanted a job as a sports presenter and they're only required to be convincing in public, not in private. If she was to keep her head above water, she needed to have that in the forefront of her mind.

Already regretting her decision to leave, she began to step away from the magnetic pull humming about them and scooped up her shopping bags.

"I would love to stay, Jamie but I'm not ready. But don't worry, I'm sticking to our little arrangement with the pap walk, and we'll get you that job."

He let out a humourless laugh, as he planted a hand on the wall and dropped his head forward. "Sounds like a grand plan, Sassenach."

"It's not a plan. It's a promise."

He considered her for a moment, then nodded stiffly.

Not wanting to leave things awkward between them, she reached out to him and touched his face. "I'm busy with errands for the rest of today and tomorrow I have a late shift. How about dinner at my place on Wednesday? I'll cook."

His face softened. "I'd love that. Shall I pick you up from work?"

She shook her head. "No. You can't be anywhere near Frank. There's a restraining order against you, remember? Besides, I'll have my car." Finally giving in to her urge, she leaned in and kissed his chin. "I'll see you at my place?"

"Try and stop me."

Somehow she managed to hide her smile until she left his apartment building.

..........

Claire made her way to her next patient. It had been total chaos for the last couple of days with the shortage of staff and beds. Although it had been an absolute nightmare, the workload was a welcome respite from the silent animosity treatment she'd been receiving from her work colleagues. More than ever, she focused all her energy on getting tasks done with efficiency and extra care, not allowing room for mistakes to give Frank ammunition to destroy her career.

"Dr Beauchamp!" She stiffened and turned around. It was Dr Lionel Brown, head of the A&E and good friend of Frank. "I need bed number five to be vacated. What's the status?"

She squared her shoulders and looked at him in the eyes. "I was just about to reexamine the patient. But I don't think it's advisable to transfer him just yet." The patient, Josiah Beardsley, a young man, had just had oesophagal surgery and was still in critical condition.

Dr Brown frowned at her with disgust. "Give me that," he barked, referring to the chart she had in her hands. He quickly skimmed through the report and shoved it back at her. "The surgery went swimmingly well. He will be fine. Get Mr Beardsley transferred to the recovery unit."

"With all due respect, I know the patient is borderline, and we need the beds, but the anaesthetists in the operating room had had already difficulty placing the breathing tube before the surgery. We need to wait until the inflammation has gone down before transferring him."

Ignoring Claire's words, he signalled the nurse and a doctor-in-training. "Get Mr Beardsley transferred. Now! We have an incoming patient, and we need the bed." And then he faced her. "Are ye seeing things that aren't there, Dr Beauchamp? Is the stress getting too much for ye that I have to continually make sure ye're doing yer job? Please don't waste my time again or else ..." And with that, he turned around, leaving Claire to stare open-mouth at him.

She bit back her frustration and went back to work. Turning her attention back to her patient, she was on time to find the head nurse and the doctor-in-training about to take the breathing tube. "Don't you dare do that if you don't want his life in your conscience. I swear to God, if anything happens to him, I will take this to the board."

Although seemingly unsure whether to obey her or not, fear of the consequence prevailed, and they eventually followed her orders but with a look of contempt.

With a sigh of relief, she continued her rounds, checking on the other patients and ordering the transfer for those who were in a stable condition. She didn't allow Dr Brown's words to rattle her. Her gut feeling was screaming to keep an eye on this particular patient, and she wasn't about to back down just because she was unpopular with the rest of the staff. She was going to stick to her guns even if it meant facing disciplinary action.

In medical school, there was so much knowledge and learning to absorb, that her brain was perpetually on overload. But she'd always felt she had an innate instinctual response ability when it came to the art of healing. She realised that if she listened and looked beyond textbook facts and thought outside the box, allowing simple common sense to guide her, she discovered things that routine exams or logic didn't. Frank had nearly suppressed that ability when he'd continuously drummed into her to stick to evidence and facts only, citing that following gut instinct could lead to irreversible mistakes and chaos.

"Why is bed number five still not vacated?" Dr Lionel Brown's voice boomed.

She dipped her head and pretended to be going over a patient's chart. "I need to check on a few more things before I release him. But I've vacated three more beds so that will tide us over for the next two hours."

"He should have been transferred half an hour ago. What the hell do ye think are ye doing? Ye think ye're the one running the show here?"

Sweat trickled down her back. "No. I don't think that at all. Mr Beardsley has still severe swelling on the throat and needs to be under observation. Taking off the tube to transfer him could do more damage."

He gritted his teeth, and his voice dropped low. "Of course, there is still swelling. Mr Beardsley just had surgery, for crying out loud. Get him transferred! Now!"

"No! You are making a mistake!"

"Who the hell do ye think ye are?" he growled, his eyes looking like they're about to pop out.

"What's going on here?" Frank intervened.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, sweet Jesus! Just what I need. She knew she'd overstepped the line but deep down Claire also knew she'd do it all over again, come hell or high water.

Brown narrowed his gaze. "Sort her out, Frank or I will. I cannae tolerate impudence in my A&E." And then he walked away with a snort of disgust.

Frank grabbed her elbow and led her to a corner. His hair was dishevelled, and he looked exhausted. She'd heard in whispered rumours that he'd been doing double shifts to drown his sorrows of losing her, making her out to be the bad guy.

"What's all these about, Claire?"

She kept her calm and her voice professional. "I'm so sorry, but Dr Brown wasn't listening to my concerns regarding a patient. I wanted to keep Mr Beardsley longer for further observation, but he refused."

"He must have a very valid reason to refuse. He's been a doctor way before you started your medical studies. He knows what he's doing."

Stubbornness claimed her. "I do not deny Dr Brown's superiority nor his experience, but we ...us ...doctors are not infallible."

"So you think you are smarter than any of us here and your decision is the way forward?"

She glared at him. "No! I followed my gut feelings. Mr Beardsley is not out of the woods yet, and Dr Brown was too eager to send him to the recovery unit. All I wanted was to do more tests."

"Gut feelings, huh? The same one that you followed when you escaped through the church window. Is that right?"

Claire winced. "Leave us out of this. This is all about work."

"All this has everything to do with us, Claire. You are under my direction. I made you and helped you with your career." Frank cleared his throat and closed the distance. "Have you made your decision about us yet?"

"There is nothing to decide. I've made up my mind a while back. I'm not coming back to you, Frank."

"So, just like that ... you're chucking everything we've hoped and built together away? Based on some insane gut feeling you have."

"If that's how you insist on wording it, then yes, Frank. I'm sick and tired of telling you over and over again, we're done. You're not the only one hurting here. This is difficult for me too. Why can't you just let me be and move on?"

His face remained impassive. "Very well, then. You leave me with no other option other than to start a formal disciplinary report on your file. You've disobeyed a superior, and you were going to go ahead with an unnecessary test that had been refused. I'll have Dr Brown lodge a formal complaint about your instability."

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs, sadness and fury swirling together in one big ball, threatening to explode. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered. "To get back at me? Is this how you treat someone you love?"

"It didn't have to be this way, Claire. You made your choice. You could stay and work here in the hospital if you wish but remember this, you are in my world, and I will not make it easy for you. I made your career, and I can easily shred it to pieces if I want to. And if you lodge a complaint against me, no one will believe you."

Her heart sank as her future unfurled before her. If she fought Frank, there's a possibility she'd not only lose the fight but also every bit of confidence in her abilities and her love for medicine by the time he was done with her. She could take the gossips, snide remarks and hateful stares, and she could also handle Frank's manipulative and controlling ways. But what she wouldn't be able to take was the slow disintegration of her skill and growth as a doctor. Frank was a skilled manipulator, and he could spin the story any way he wished, and people would believe him.

"Dr Beauchamp! Dr Beauchamp ...bed number five, something has gone horribly wrong!" a nurse shouted in her direction.

She cursed under her breath and gave Frank one last look before turning into full doctor mode, aware he was right behind her.

Her worse fear happened. The patient, Josiah Beardsley's endotracheal tube had been removed, and his breathing was speeding up as his oxygen level dropped dangerously. One of the doctors present was trying to reinsert the tube but was having difficulty.

With utmost calm, she nodded at her colleague and took over. She flashed her penlight into the patient's mouth and saw a swollen mass of dark pink tissue. Not good!

"Shall we bag him?" one of the doctors asked.

"No. He might vomit. Give him two milligrams of propofol," Claire instructed without looking up. Once he was sedated, she opened his mouth and inserted a laryngoscope to locate the vocal cords. Time was of an essence as she had four minutes before brain damage set in and the enlarged tissue was making it difficult to find the airway.

When she finally found it, she quickly placed the tube into the mouth and down to the lower portion of the trachea. It seemed like an eternity before the device was properly placed, but she only allowed herself to breath, once Beardsley was connected to the ventilator.

Stepping away, Claire realised an ashen-faced Dr Brown had been watching the whole scene, along with Frank and a handful of staff. "Well, that's sorted then, Dr Brown. Let's hope our patient here wakes up once the medication wears off." She looked at her watch. "That should be in fifteen minutes. Otherwise, you have some explaining to do to his family," she said calmly without any hint of smugness.

Everyone looked at her with a mixture of remorse and awe, but that didn't do anything for her. Not even when a hand patted her on the shoulder. She was done and spent. She was tired of constantly having to prove herself, and knew this battle with Frank was best left alone for the sake of her peace of mind.

To the astonishment of the onlookers, she shook her head and let out a hollow laugh, as she lifted her arms and let them fall to her sides. It's done. It's over.

As if Frank had surmised what she was about to do, he took a step forward. "Claire ..."

She raised a hand. "You win, Dr Randall." And she looked at the rest of the staff that came to gather around them. "You all win." Tears threatened to spill, but she refused to give anything more of her. She'd given far too much of herself already for their daily entertainment. Silently, Claire grieved for the career she'd dreamed of since she was young and her love for a man she once believed in. She wanted to retain all that was good she had shared with Frank, but he had crushed all that in one blow. What she was about to do was for the best even if it meant destroying the final fragile thread between them. With a heavy heart, Claire finally spoke. "I am resigning from my residency. I shall hand in my formal resignation in a couple of days. I sincerely hope you'll all be happier without me here. Goodbye."

And then numbly she walked out of the A&E, unhearing of the voices that were calling after her.

#melodyheart #startingover #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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tonkigospel · 3 years ago

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Mac vpn monitor uninstall

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall how to#

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall driver#

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall Pc#

That’s it, you’ve managed to delete a VPN connection from your computer entirely.

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall driver#

Right-click any unwanted, old TAP Driver adapter.

Expand the Network adapters section in the manager.

Select Device Manager from the Start Menu.

On Windows 10, hit the Win key on your keyboard.

If a connection is active, or the VPN client still installed/service still running, the Delete option will be greyed-out. Thus, make sure you’ve uninstalled the app before you attempt to delete the VPN connection profile. Note that attempting to delete an active connection won’t work. That should’ve removed any old connection profile that still lingered after you’ve uninstalled the client.

Click the Change adapter options button.

More so, you won’t get bombarded with offers, ads, and surveys upon your decision to remove the program. Reliable VPNs such as Private Internet Access treat privacy seriously and keep a clean shop, whether it’s installation or removal we’re talking about. Once the uninstall process comes to an end, you shouldn’t be able to see a VPN profile any longer.

Follow the on-screen instructions to proceed with the removal.

Click the Uninstall button once it becomes visible.

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall Pc#

Locate the VPN app you wish to remove from your PC.

Select the Add or remove programs option.

ExpressVPN - Browse the web from multiple devices with increased security protocols.

CyberGhost - Connect to thousands of servers for persistent seamless browsing.

SurfShark - Price convenient VPN service with all-rounded security features.

NordVPN - Secure multiple devices and enjoy stable connections anywhere.

Private Internet Access - Access content across the globe at the highest speed rate.

And naturally, it can be solved in a different manner. However, not being able to remove a VPN connection profile from your computer has some different implications. Turns out there are a few steps you can take if you discover you’re suddenly unable to pull the plug on your connection. Note that this is not the same as not being able to disconnect from your VPN, which we previously covered. Not errors per se, but issues.Įither way, sometimes certain VPN events might hinder your ability to enjoy this type of service as you should.įor instance, you might discover that you can’t delete a VPN connection from your PC. The VPN client should handle every other step so that you can enjoy a clean, secure, and private browsing experience without putting too much time and effort into it.īut things might not be so great all the time, since VPN, like any other software, is prone to occasional errors. You just launch get your VPN client into view and select a server. Granted you picked the right tool for the job, securing your connection is a matter of clicking once or twice. From a connection’s privacy and security standpoint, of course. We can all agree and acknowledge that a VPN can save you from a lot of hassle.

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall how to#

Home › VPN › How To › Delete VPN connection

#Mac vpn monitor uninstall

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mpgonline · 3 years ago

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Website Browsing is it Really Private?

Website Browsing is it Really Private Private web browsing in a nutshell! Other users of your device won’t see your history. When it comes to private browsing however there are a few misconceptions and common myths. These are important things to know if you want to feel safe surfing in whatever browser you prefer. Let us take a look at each of them before discussing exactly how you can use this feature in each of the web’s most commonly used browsers. You Are Anonymous When Private Browsing Private browsing does not make you invisible on the internet. Your internet service provider and other websites can still see and gather information on your activity. The same goes for browsing in this mode on your work computer, so your employer may still have access to your activity's also. Don’t be fooled into thinking nobody else can see or trace your activity. These modes only usually apply to masking your activity from users of the same device. Firefox, for example, explicitly tells you this; warning that your ISP or employer can still track the pages you visit. Private Browsing Erases All Browsing Activity Any downloads you make or bookmarks you save won’t be hidden from view if done in private browsing. Downloads will remain saved in file directories on your computer and bookmarks will be saved to the tab in your normal browser mode. What private browsing modes does do is let you surf without saving cookies or tracking your browsing history. Private Browser Is Safe and Keeps Keystroke Loggers Out Some internet security experts might recommend, private browser modes to protect you from malware, viruses, spyware or programs tracking your keystrokes, sorry this is not the case. You’ll still need to have regular security protocols in place. Now lets take a look at browsing privately in some of the popular browsers. How to Browse Privately In Chrome Chrome’s private browsing option is also referred to as ‘incognito mode’. You can switch it on by clicking the More button in the top right (three dots), and choosing New incognito window. Alternatively you can switch to it via keyboard shortcuts; Ctrl+Shift+N in Windows and Mac+Shift+N on Mac. You’ll know you’re in incognito mode when the incognito icon (man with hat and glasses) shows in the top right corner. Simply closing the window will end the mode. How to Browse Privately In Safari Switching to private browsing in Safari can be done by going to File > New private window. You can also set the app to always open in this mode by going to Safari > Preferences > General and then choosing a new private window from the pop-up menu. You can stop the mode by going through the same process. You can browse privately on an iPhone and an iPod touch similarly. All you have to do is press the new page button, tap Private and then Done. You’ll know it’s in the mode when Safari changes from white or grey to black or dark. How to Browse Privately In Firefox You can open a new Private Window from the Firefox menu in the top right of the browser window. Alternatively you can also press Ctrl+Shift+P. To open up links in a normal browsing window in a new private one, right-click it and select the option. You’ll know you’re browsing privately as they’ll be a purple mask at the top bar of the screen. How to Browse Privately In Edge Private browsing is called InPrivate in Microsoft Edge and Explorer browsers. You can access it by clicking the Settings and more button in the top right (three dots). From there, select New InPrivate window. Pressing Ctrl+Shift+P can also switch to the mode. You’ll know it’s on when the InPrivate label shows in a blue square in the top right of the browser. If you are looking for IT support for your company, please give MPG online a call at 678-824-5990 today and let us help you or click here to learn more IT Support. Read the full article

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lostinfic · 7 years ago

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Hardy/Hannah fic tennis | 9

A collaboration with @fadewithfury

Each in turn we will write 300-500 words. Neither of us knows what the other will write before our turn - it has not been beta’d or previewed.

The story so far: Hannah is a P.I. specialized in cheating spouses and Hardy the author of popular mystery novels. How will a phone number found in a forgotten coat bring them together?

Rating: All ages (so far)

Previously:

When Daisy disappeared into her room to do homework, he went out to his balcony and stared at the number on his mobile for Dejour Investigation. He really shouldn’t do this. It was stupid - but he did have her book, and no other way to get in touch with her. With a deep breath, he pressed the button to dial the number.

Hannah’s phone rang. “Where the bloody hell are you?” she shrieked.

“Sorry?”

“There’s water up to my knees! Bring your arse over here.” She pushed another towel under the sink to absorb the water leaking from a pipe. “Mr. Nowak?”

“No, it’s Alec Hardy. I’m calling because I have your book. What’s going on?”

“I had a bloody burst pipe a few days ago, and the plumber who repaired it did a shit job cause it’s burst again. I called him a half-hour ago and he’s not here yet.”

“I’ll come over and help you.”

Barefoot and trousers pushed up to his knees, Alec twisted a wrench uselessly around the pipe while Hannah watched over his shoulder.

So far, all he’d done was hold the towels while she looked frantically around the house for the valve to stop the flow of water. And now this clumsy handling of a wrench. She held back a giggle. “You don’t actually know anything about plumbing, do you?”

“I do! I know things about pipes.”

Hannah indulged him and let him work. She did like the sight of him with his shirtsleeves rolled up and the look of intense focus on his face.

He dropped the wrench and cursed. He ran a wet hand through his hair and pinched his lips together. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m a writer, I’m not handy. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for trying to help anyway.” It was endearing that he’d rushed to her help despite the late hour and barely knowing her.

“I hope I didn’t make it worse,” he said.

They looked at each other and laughed.

He stood up and stretched his back with a groan, then offered her a hand to pull her up to her feet as well.

They wrung the soaked towels into the bathtub and mopped the floor until the plumber arrived. They let him work in the bathroom, and returned to the first floor.

“I guess I should go now,” he said.

“If that’s what you want. You don’t have to. I can make us a cuppa. You can’t go out with your clothes all wet.”

He looked down at his blue button-up and the light splashes on it. “Yeah, okay.”

Hannah tried to fill the kettle only to remember the water was shut off. She offered Alec a whiskey instead. While she fixed their drinks, he browsed the bookcases framing the fireplace.

“Your novels are in my bedroom,” she said.

“I wasn’t looking for that.”

“Right, you’re not that full of yourself.”

“I try not to be.” He took the proffered glass. “I was returning your book, but I can’t figure out where it goes.”

“They’re not in alphabetical order. The books with a blue spine go in the guest bedroom,” she explained. Only shades of white and grey for the living room.

“Right.”

They talked about books and the weather and house chores, but small talk was obviously not his forte. He kept a hand in his pocket, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Hannah patted the sofa cushion beside her in invitation, hoping to put him at ease.

“So you’re a private investigator,” he said.

“How did you know?”

He explained Ellie’s research. “We cross-referenced a few things.”

“Cross-referenced? Who’s the detective now?”

“I write one, I’m bound to pick up a few tricks.” He shrugged. “So your job, that’s really great. It must be brilliant.”

“You do realize I tempt men into adultery for a living.”

The way his mouth opened without a word coming out told her hadn’t, in fact, realized that.

“Yeah. That’s how most men react… including my latest date.” When she’d finally made time to see James again, she’d told him the truth, and he’d all but fled the restaurant. Somehow he thought she was no more trustworthy than the men she investigated. “I’ve seen what getting cheated on does to people, I’ve had it done to me, I could never do that to someone. I don’t sleep with those men, I just--” Her voice trembled with anger, so she clenched her jaw shut. She hadn’t meant to unload her personal problems on Alec, but she was still upset, and the plumbing problems combined with lack of sleep made it harder to control herself.

“There are other fish in the sea,” he said lamely.

She smiled tightly and curled her legs under herself. She redirected the conversation to how she’d ended up in possession of his coat. She remained vague about the Hamadi case, both out of respect for her client, and because she didn’t want to make Alec feel like she was using him to advance her case. He didn’t have the same qualms though, he asked her more questions about her work, and she sensed a professional interest behind them. He draped an arm on the back of the sofa and leaned closer, nodding as if taking mental notes of her answers.

“Seducing men is a last resort strategy. The nail in the coffin,” she explained. “I investigate them properly before, I don’t take these accusations lightly.”

“Hmm. And do you feel it changed the way you see people, say in public, are there things you notice more?”

“Are you going to write a character based on me?” she teased.

He scrunched up his nose. “Ha, sorry.”

“I don’t mind, it’s… flattering.”

“Yeah?”

“You know, it has changed the way I see people.” She crossed her legs towards him, her toes nudging his leg. “I notice the signs of attraction between them.”

His stilled momentarily, as if afraid he’d been caught. “Like what?”

“Like little, casual touches.” She straightened his collar and smoothed a hand down his shirt.

“I see. Like this?” He brushed a stray curl behind her shoulder and returned his arm to the back of the sofa in a way that kept his fingertips an inch from her skin.

“Yeah, just like that.” She bit her bottom lip as her skin goose-pimpled where he’d touched her. There was something she wanted to bring up, but hesitated. “Signs of jealousy are a big hint too. Like, erm, the way Ellie reacted when I insisted on giving you the coat personally.”

Alec burst out laughing. “Ellie? You think she fancies me?” He laughed some more. “Nah, she’s just protective of her writers.”

“All of them or just you?”

“Most of them.”

Hannah disliked being wrong, but at least now she knew there was nothing between Alec and Ellie.

“She was wary of you because I haven’t had the best luck with women lately.”

Hannah tilted her head. “How so?”

A breath puffed up his cheeks as he rested his elbows on his knees. He appraised her with a glance, as if deciding whether he could open up to her.

“This job mostly,” he summed up.

“Writer? Sounds like a nice job for a boyfriend. Romantic, almost.”

He snorted. “I had a...girlfriend. Didn’t last long. She thought so too. But it’s not. It’s a real job with deadlines and pressure from my publisher and screaming at my computer. And then there’s frustration that just because I’m at home all day doesn’t mean I can run all the errands and cook and take Daisy to school. It’s a full-time job.”

“Daisy?”

“My daughter.”

“Oh. Guess you weren’t talking about your girlfriend just then.”

He shook his head and stared at his whiskey, swirling it around in the glass. “I was married. Fifteen years.”

He swallowed the rest of the liquor and took their glasses to the sink. Hannah followed him into the dimly-lit kitchen.

“Your ex-wife didn’t understand your job?” she ventured. Fifteen years, it had to be more complicated than that.

“It’s not just her. When I’m working, sometimes I immerse myself so much in the world I’ve created, it’s like I’m shutting myself off.”

He didn’t explain further, but he’d spoken like someone who’d contemplated the matter at length.

Hannah thought of the fictional town of Broadchurch and Detective Thomas’ love interest who had appeared in his three latest novels. Was it an espace for him? An alter ego who could live the life he couldn’t have and love someone else. A mental shelter to get away from reality. The same way Hannah buried herself in work when things got rough in her personal life. The way she’d filled her loneliness of the last two years with more clients and more employees. To her friends and family, she called it ambition, but deep down she knew it was a distraction.

She held Alec’s gaze across the kitchen, feeling like a thread had woven itself between their chests.

She leaned beside him, against the counter, and he uncrossed his arms, resting his hand next to hers.

“It makes people feel left out, doesn’t it?” Hannah said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe it’s about finding someone who’ll make us want to let them in.”

He looked at her, something soft in his eyes. “That’d be nice.”

“All done here, ma’am,” the plumber announced, interrupting them.

While she argued with the man about the price to pay, Alec left her house without saying goodbye.

#Hardy x Hannah #Hardy/Hannah fic tennis #teninch fic #fadewithfury #fuck it looks all wrong but if you click 'read more' it's readable #I hope you'll like this part #:DD #I feel like it's all coming together #lostinfic writes stuff

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wackygoofball · 8 years ago

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Gifset: Jaime x Brienne - Traveler AU

Jaime Lannister, manager and right-hand man to the CEO of the company, his father Tywin, lives a life that goes its course almost entirely by itself. From the early beginnings of his life, he was framed to, one day, inherit his father’s “family empire.” And Jaime never bothered, really, being a natural in what it takes to fill in such a position. It just seemed like the most natural conclusion to go with the flow.

Nothing out of the ordinary happens – until it does.

A car accident right outside the family company’s office building leaves Jaime’s right hand permanently damaged. And this experience shows Jaime one thing: He didn’t witness anything exciting, anything extraordinary, and almost died not having achieved much of anything outside the family business.

At first, he is simply depressed, caves in at home, does not show up at work, is done with life. But then, perhaps by a wink of fate, Jaime finds an old map, from the last holiday he took when he was still in college, and bought himself a ticket to Lys out of the blue. He almost completely forgot over business life that this was his last actual holiday, and a good one, actually. And as he sits there, going back over some of the good old memories, Jaime has to realize that he hasn’t taken any time for himself, hasn’t traveled – beside for work – in ages.

In a cloak-and-dagger operation, Jaime buys backpack, boots, tent, and whatever else he can gather, only to wind up by the Citizens Advice Bureau first chance he has to get the papers needed. After that, Jaime takes a taxi to King’s Landing Airport and wants to board the next-best plane he can catch, much to the irritation of the woman sitting behind the counter.

When asked to where he would like to go, Jaime simply replies, “Doesn’t matter. Just away from here. So long I can fly right now, I don’t care what the location is.”

And so, Jaime finds himself walking on Dornish soil soon thereafter.

Already at the airport, as he waits for his luggage to arrive, Jaime gets one confused phone call after the other from his family members, asking him where he is.

“Dorne. What would you want to do in Dorne?!”

“Making holidays,” Jaime replies simply, again and again.

“And you couldn’t have told anyone beforehand?”

“I got the last ticket.”

“When are you going to come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?! But Jaime…”

“As I said, I don’t know, and my bag just arrived. I am hanging up now, bye.”

Jaime reckons that the vacation will do him good, but he soon grows dissatisfied. Doing the usual tourist routines has him rather annoyed. Even the prospect of seeing some of the most beautiful sights Dorne has to offer has Jaime shockingly little excited. He thought that this would be it, that this is what he is seeking, but… it’s not.

The realization comes to Jaime one late night, watching a travel documentary on a small TV in his hotel room: He doesn’t need vacation, he needs to travel.

Thus, Jaime gets himself on a ferry to the Stepstones, from the Stepstones to the Grey Gallows, and from the Grey Gallows to Tyrosh, and so forth. On the way, Jaime buys himself a bunch of disposable cameras to take pictures with, and begins to do something that he didn’t do ever since the accident, namely to write – in a leather journal he bought on a small market in Dorne.

After all, no one is going to read his chicken scratch other than him.

However, not all is rosy on that journey, because Jaime has to realize far sooner than later that walking into this completely unprepared comes with a certain kind of thrill, but also a lot of troubles. Ending up in rat holes of hotels, having to camp out in the wilderness when the motels are all overbooked, only to realize that he never put up a tent in his life and thus failing miserably at the task, are only some of the troubles he encounters on that vacation.

At the same time, Jaime is thrilled to see all those new places, meet all sorts of people, taste different foods, and make experiences he never would have made, had he stayed home.

During his stay at Braavos, something catches his interest as he visits the Titan of Braavos, because there is one person in the mass of tourists taking pictures of the statue and following tourist guides around like geese, who seems not at all interested in the monument. The tall woman with blonde hair has not taken a single picture of the statue, Jaime observed, but instead took out her camera to take pictures of rather queer things, at least to Jaime’s mind: An ice cream cone dropped on the ground seems to have her particular interest.

Jaime feels very tempted to talk to her, but as he is about to do it, a youngster falls off the Titan’s toe after he had to climb on top of the statue, and everyone starts to fuss, so that Jaime loses the blonde woman in the crowd.

He travels to the next location, though the woman with brilliant blue eyes and an odd taste in objects of interest, remains on his mind all the while.

After a quite desperate phone call from his younger brother Tyrion, Jaime reluctantly agrees to check on his emails. For that matter, he gets into an internet café, because Jaime cannot properly read mails on his phone, and he purposely left his computer at home before he went on his vacation. After a quick check-in with reality awaiting him back home, Jaime decides that he is not yet ready to succumb to that life again, so he closes the tab and instead decides to use his remaining time at the café to browse the internet for traveler advices, groaning at some things he could easily have prevented, had he bothered to read up on the matter before just boarding a flight to Dorne.

In the course of his research, Jaime stumbles over a blog named The Traveler’s Guide of the Other Kind. And compared to most blogs he scrolled through, which were mostly focused on the person and his or her experiences, lots of pictures with nice InstaBran filters and what not, this blog’s title holds true. This one does not feature any pictures… of the person who is running this blog, let alone clues about his or her identity.

However, the blog is even more curious, because it doesn’t talk about what food to get where, or what sights are worth the voyage. Instead, the blog entries are largely about “The Small Things,” about sunsets in certain locations and at what times the light is the best, quite witty comments on the masses of people all doing the same thing “in strange sort of rituals, hailing statues, bridges, castles, and churches of faiths they do not even partake in, and all that with cameras and selfie sticks,” little anecdotes about people the author saw and observed, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes rather romantic.

Jaime would love to go on, but apparently, he kept reading the blog so long that the internet café is closing for the day. Nevertheless, he remains intrigued, so Jaime starts scrolling through the text posts on his phone once returned to his shabby motel.

Lying on his back in bed, he continues reading the posts that keep captivating him, finding it almost hilarious that some of the experiences and impressions written are so close to his own. Jaime drops his phone right in his face as it literally hits him that the author of the blog apparently features an entry on “The Tristful Chronicles of a Braavosi Ice Cream Cone,” with a picture of a dropped ice cream cone at the top, matching both the day and the location when Jaime saw that tall blonde woman taking pictures of that ice cream cone on the ground.

Jaime reckons that if he took the risk to abandon his entire life to go travelling, he might just as well take the risk to reach out to that woman who has been flitting across his mind ever since he saw her in Braavos.

What is the worse that can happen, right?

Thus, Jaime tries to type a comment, but ends up pushing the SEND-button before he could double-check, thus sending a message that is filled with typos and some really odd wordings. “Stupid hand!” Meanwhile, in a hotel room on New Ghis, Brienne is surprised to get a new comment on her “The Tristful Chronicles of a Braavosi Ice Cream Cone” entry, which did not have too many readers at all.

Not that Brienne bothers. She didn’t start the blog to gain followers, but simply wanted to have a place to gather her thoughts at. The message she receives now has her rather baffled, because… typos and rather a lot of gibberish stuffed into a short comment, but still readable enough for her to understand that the person who wrote this saw her back at the Titan and wondered until s/he found this blog what was so interesting about that ice cream cone.

Brienne is a bit shocked: She never posts pictures of herself, for the plain reason that she is ugly and doesn’t like to have her picture taken anyway. The thought that someone may out her is somewhat frightening to Brienne. After all, she tries to stay anonymous, just travels around, merges in with the background to observe.

Yet, she cannot resist replying, very cautiously so. However, to her even greater surprise, Brienne gets a reply almost instantly, and then another, and another, and she ends writing back each time.

Jaime and Brienne eventually message each other over the private message tool of the blog, which allows them to communicate more privately, discussing their travelling experiences, to where they have already gone, etc.

Sometime later, almost by accident, they find out that they are currently in the same location. So Jaime takes a chance and suggests to meet.

Brienne almost falls off her chair once she reads that message. Because that never happened, and she believed it impossible anyway. Brienne replies, truthfully, that she has to catch a flight that same day, later that evening. Jaime replies instantly that he wouldn’t care.

“We can meet up as long as we can until you have to fly again, I don’t mind.”

And so, they meet. The first handshake is all kinds of awkward once it dawns on them that they are two strangers who decided to meet based on some shared travel experiences. The beginning of the conversation is rather rocky, but once they start talking about journeys again, the two somehow ease into the situation. Jaime eventually find the courage to ask Brienne about why she takes those rather odd pictures and why they are the focus of her online travel guide. And so, Brienne explains: “To me, travelling is about seeing places, about witnessing them. And that is more than tasting the food, looking at the statues, the churches. It’s about watching people interact, about seeing children climb on top what is considered a cultural good. It’s about lost ice cream cones. Couples breaking up and proposing to one another in the cheesiest of ways. You know, I could have done it like most others do, focus on the obvious, the conventional. But I like to think that… that there is something beautiful in the unconventional, just like it is in what seems to be utterly unimportant because it is so very conventional.“

Jaime is thrilled about what he hears.

Suddenly, Brienne gets a call that her normal flight is going to be cancelled, but that she can still catch an earlier flight if she gets to the airport within two hours. Brienne excuses herself, explaining that she always wanted to see Old Valyria at the season, and knows she won’t catch a flight until they close down for the year. Jaime tells her that it’s fine and that he perfectly understands. Brienne is very apologetic – and a bit mournful because she can’t remember the last time she enjoyed a date that much.

As they prepare to part, Jaime tells her that he will be waiting for the next log entry on Old Valyria. Brienne gathers all of her confidence to offer him her telephone number, which Jaime takes more than gladly. The two part with a another awkward handshake, though really, they can’t help but think about one another once they are out of each other’s sight. Despite the fact that both are too stubborn to admit it.

And so, their journeys go separate ways again. Jaime wants to head further North while Brienne ventures through Old Valyria. Jaime is pleased to read an entry that alludes to their meeting and even a quote by him from their conversation. The two now start to talk over the phone, and as they continue travelling, try to beat one another in most unconventional places to have found, most curious experiences to have witnessed, or weirdest people they met, etc.

"Some boys like a challenge…”

They accidentally meet up again at an airport after both had their flights cancelled, so they are stuck for the night. The two are not sure whether to shake hands or hug, so yeah, it is awkward. They decide to get some drinks at the bar to pass the time. Jaime and Brienne come to talk about his injury and how that was the starting point for him to start that journey. Brienne lets on that she decided that it was time that she left home after Renly died and she had caved in at home far too long that it had her father worried.

“Sometimes you have to leave to find your way back home… I hope, at least.”

Once it’s time to say goodbye, Jaime suggests as casually as he can that they may want to try to end up in the same location some time, surprised when Brienne instantly recounts to where she is going and in what order, only to break out laughing when Jaime takes out his worn journal to see about his flight plans.

“Now, that is what I call old-fashioned,” she snorts.

"I call it traditional. Not all of us run fancy blogs, you know.”

“Well, blogs are also already outdated. Now it’s InstaBran stories that count. So perhaps we have something in common in that regard after all.”

They figure that the location following their next ones actually matches, so Jaime and Brienne agree to a “travel date.”

Then, at last, the time has come, and they are in the same location. They meet up at the airport, get themselves rooms in the same hotel. The two are thrilled to discover just how much they actually have in common, making their very own tours, discussing their boring jobs and their exciting journeys, sharing takeaway in hotel rooms, and watching sunsets in the most curious of places together.

Jaime still can’t believe himself that he just follows through with this new kind of life, almost eloping with a woman he barely knows but feels as though he has known her for years already. He wouldn’t have done things in that way back in the “old life.”

And for Brienne, it’s also the first time she even considered a man in that way after Renly’s death.

Of course, they continue to challenge one another. Jaime has to do things with his right arm upon her insistence, while Jaime takes out his “even more old-fashioned than the journal” disposable camera and challenges Brienne to have him take her picture, one of which he secretly adds to his journal.

And on a journey of self-discovery, they discover each other, eventually giving in to their undeniable attraction for one another. The two want to go on travelling, but eventually decide to go together, rearranging plans so that they can take the same route.

It is like a journey to heaven. Seeing different places, kissing under sights, taking pictures of the small things, reading through each other’s log entries, even lying next to each other in shabby hotel rooms with uncomfortable mattresses feels divine.

However, the journey comes to a sudden halt when Jaime runs into Tyrion, who has tracked him down upon their father’s order, explaining to the older brother that Tywin’s patience has worn thin and that if Jaime does not return any time soon, he will no longer provide for Jaime’s travelling – or anything else for the matter.

“And he is serious, I am telling you.”

Heartbroken, Jaime talks to Brienne about the latest revelation, but he is surprised that she shows such great understanding for his situation, even encouraging him to go back home. “You are loyal to your family. I am loyal to my father. I get this, I do, Jaime. We don’t get to choose.”

While both say that they can meet up again and that Brienne may want to travel to Casterly Rock some time soon, both know that their travel romance has come to an abrupt end.

Begrudgingly, Jaime makes his way back into the old life, feeling utterly miserable about himself, which does not go unnoticed by his younger brother Tyrion, though he does not know about Jaime’s heartache for his former travelling companion, because the older brother did not want to involve Brienne into his family’s mess any more than he already did.

Brienne is not faring much better. Her thoughts revolve around Jaime all the while, too, which she realizes in a number of posts she deletes that almost exclusively speak of heartache and Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. She has to realize that being alone and anonymous is not that great when you finally found someone who knows and understands you. Then, being alone and unconventional seems to ring so hollow.

Back in King’s Landing, Tyrion discovers his brother’s journal eventually.

After some serious deciphering of the chicken scratch, Tyrion must say that Jaime’s journal is an entertaining read, if not a profitable one. He gets into contact with publishers, and they seem to share his opinion, because it is only a little while from now that Jaime’s journal entries are getting published as a travel guide – after some just as serious editing through his younger brother, of course.

Brienne meanwhile, on her continuous voyage towards the Isle of Faces, which is supposed to be her last stop on the journey before going home to Tarth again, stumbles across a bookstore, where they feature a book with Jaime’s picture on the title page. Stunned, she buys the next best copy she can grab, devouring the journal as she roams through the streets of Oldtown.

Not only is she surprised that Jaime apparently went into publishing, after he teased her all the while for telling the whole world about her experiences, “even though you claim to be so shy, wench,” but she is also caught off-guard by some many log entries alluding to her. While the book was edited so not to give her identity away, something that Jaime likely insisted on for her sake, she finds herself near tears at some of the later entries speaking about how the shared voyage with her proved to be the best part of the whole journey.

“It was during that time that I saw in myself the man I wanted to be. That part of my voyage is the one that changed my world – for the better. That one person I met… changed everything, turned my whole voyage of life upside-down, and I loved every second of it. And to this day, I come to regret that it didn’t last longer. I wish I was still out there, every day.”

Brienne calls up Jaime once she is back in her hotel room, to congratulate him on his latest success. Jaime explains rather sheepishly that he didn’t know “until it was too late” that Tyrion took the journal to publishers behind his back.

“Now my own face is haunting me in every bookstore. I think I have to go incognito.”

“Fake moustache?”

“Maybe.”

They talk about Brienne’s plans, and how far she has come by now. Brienne tells him that she is “just that close” to get through with the locations she planned on visiting, to arrive at the Isle of Faces as her “final piece in the puzzle.”

“So? What are you going to do with your newly acquired status as a popular traveler journalist?“ Brienne teases, if only to distract from herself – and her apparent heartache at the thought that she will finish the journey alone, because the two actually made plans to go to the Isle of Faces together.

But then reality called back and all was over.

“Laughing myself silly because I hated reading since a young age, and now I am supposedly a writer. Well, at least you can make some money with those guides. So maybe you should start as well.”

“I think I will pass.”

“Says the popular blogger.”

“I am not popular at all, and I pride myself with that,” she argues.

“Would be too mainstream for you anyway.”

Towards the end of the conversation, Jaime blurts out saying “I miss you… I… I miss us.”

”… Me, too,” Brienne replies hastily. “But… well, travelers undergo voyages. That is what we do. We don’t know where we end up. The journey is the goal. And that means we sometimes end up… in different places, it seems.”

Jaime wants nothing but get out of the family company, his mind keeps going back to the Isle of Faces, and most importantly – Brienne, whereas Brienne’s thoughts on her voyage keep revolving less and less around the Isle of Faces and more and more about the travel partner she lost back when he went to the capitol to return to “real life.”

Things may take another turn when Jaime’s brother makes a proposal, but whether that is going to pan out, only time will show.

Because as corny as it may sound, life is a journey.

And it is yet to be determined whether Jaime and Brienne will get a chance to go on that journey together, or will continue to be swept to different shores…

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #wacky tries gimp #fanfic

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angelinajoliea · 6 years ago

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judylicious · 4 years ago

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And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,928

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of violence

Chapter X

Sophia and Lisa noticed the two as well and were swift to react when they realised Charlotte was on her way out. “Woah! Where do you think you’re going?” Sophia blocked her way. “You ain’t running away again.” “I really don’t wanna see that.”, Charlotte tried to get passed her. “Get a grip on yourself!” Sophia grabbed her at both shoulders, shaking her. “This is your man! Go and get rid of that bitch, don’t let her push you around, mark your territory, whatever you wanna call it!” She turned Charlotte around and gave her an encouraging bottom smack. “Go and get him, girl!”

Charlotte took a deep breath, before making her way towards Alan. “Hey honey!”, she said in a high-pitched voice and made a hold right between the two. She bend down, stroke his cheek and slowly turned his head towards her before giving him a wild and passionate kiss. “I loved seeing you play just for me. Your sound is so hot.” Alan felt quite surprised by Charlotte’s performance but was also amused and aroused by how sexy she could be, when she was self-confident. “Hey babe.”, he answered her with a smirk. “Glad you liked it.” Charlotte moved behind the handsome musician and stroke his shoulders, down to his chest, so she could start nibbling at his neck and ear. She looked Lari up and down. “Isn’t security supposed to keep the trash outside?” Alan had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. “Yeah, they’re doing a poor job. Think we should hire someone else.” Lari opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say so she quickly walked off in a huff. “You’re hot when you’re jealous, you know that?” “I hope I always look hot.”, Charlotte said playfully. “Mhmm, of course you do.”, he replied and gave her a kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a call.” No, I’m sorry Alan, you see about moving out, there’s something you should know.” “What’s that?.. No wait, let’s go somewhere private.” He got up and grabbed her hand, leading her to a more quiet corner. “So?” “Well, you remember the scar at my left ankle? The last time I moved out, I was home one day, visiting mum. When I wanted to leave my father came back form work, pulling up the driveway. He ran into me, causing me to fall and then ran over my foot. I had to have two surgeries just so I could walk properly and had to move in with them again cos I couldn’t take care of myself and wasn’t able to access my flat on the fourth floor. Of course he claimed that it was an accident and he simply didn’t see me but after everything that happened, I don’t believe him. And since then I’m stuck at their house again… I’m afraid if I move out he will hurt me or do anything else, just to keep me under his roof.” Charlotte was close to tears but Alan pulled her in a tight hug. “It’s okay hun, you’ll be fine. I’ll make sure he’s not coming near you. But you have to get out of that house!” “I- I don’t know…” “You’re not alone this time! I promise everything will be fine. How about we go to your place tomorrow morning and pick up some of your things?” She gave him a questioning look. “Well don’t you think I’ll let you spend the night in that hell house on your own, you’re coming with me tonight.” “What did she want?” “Who?” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You know who.” “Nothing.” “Yeah nothing my erse.” Alan sighed. “What do you wanna hear? She wanted me back, okay? But you don’t have to worry, I want no one but you!” “She had an appointment with my dad the other day and blackmailed me, she would tell him if I didn’t leave you alone. What, if my dad will harm you as well? At this point I believe he’s capable of everything!” “I can very well take care of myself, it’ll be fine.” And he gave her a reassuring kiss to the forehead.

After helping the band getting their stuff together, they spent the evening with the boys and their significant other in a near by bar, having a few drinks and laughs, making Charlotte feel more relaxed already.

The next morning Alan and Charlotte drove to Charlotte’s place to pick up her things as they had agreed on last night. “Happy home!”, she mumbled sarcastically as she unlocked the front door. “Let’s make this quick while everyone’s still out.” And she quickly went upstairs to her room. Alan took a stroll through the living room and the kitchen, passing Frank’s home office before he joined her upstairs. While Charlotte went through her closet hastily, Alan browsed through her collection of records. She turned around to him. “Alan? Would you get me that short, grey pyjama from the second top drawer right in front of you?” “I don’t think you will need any pyjamas.”, he replied with a smirk. “Haha very funny.” She threw a pair of socks at him and Alan did as he was told. “Woah, what are these?!” “Huh?”, Charlotte asked absent minded. “These photos!” She turned around in a hurry. “No what are you doing? I said seconded top drawer not first! Give them to me!” And she tried to get a hand on the photos but Alan hold his hand up high and took a few steps away from her. “For whom did you take these?” “No one, give them back!” “I most certainly won’t, they’re coming with me.” “No they won’t.” “Answer me, for whom did you take these?” “For myself, you’re satisfied?” “You’re telling me you put on this red, silky neglige and this red thong with a nicely done bowknot about your butt for yourself? I mean it’s a hot thought, you getting all aroused looking at yourself in these photos…” “I don’t.”, she sighed. “I was feeling pretty low after seeing you and Lari and tried to get some confidence into me okay? It didn’t work though.” “You must be kidding? These are…”, he licked his lips. “Just throw them away, please.” “You still have that yarn?” “Yeah, I do.” Alan got close to her, putting his arms around her body. “Okay so how about we get rid of these photos and instead you take this red devilish thing with you and show it to me live?”, he whispered in her ear and started kissing her neck. “How could I ever say no to you.” “Funny you say that.”, he kept whispering and pushed his body tight to hers, causing Charlotte to bite her lip as she felt his erection against her crotch. “Alan… stop it.” “What was that? I remember hearing you say “How could I ever say no to you”..?” “What if someone comes home.” “You said they’re all gone til noon.” And he slowly started unbuttoning her black blouse, his hand shifting away her bra, squeezing her breasts softly. He had crushed his lips on hers by now and they were wrapped up in a hot and wet kiss. He pushed her onto the bed and quickly got rid of her jeans. “Why is it always me who’s undressed first?” Alan grinned. “You’re too slow, that’s all.” Charlotte whirled him around and sat on top of him and ripped his shirt open, a few buttons flying off. “I’ll buy you a new one.”, she grinned. She kneeled to get better access to his pants and opened them only so far so that she could pull out his hardened manhood, giving it a few good pumps, before she started licking his tip and pushing his length all the way inside her mouth. He let out a deep groan and grabbed a fistful of her hair to set the pace, while she was bumping her head up and down. “You’re not gonna make me come into your mouth again, not this time.”, he mumbled under his heavy breath. With a quick motion he pulled her up and on all her fourth, while he was kneeling behind her. He pushed away her thong and wasted no time pushing deep into her pussy, causing both to moan. “Good girl, so wet for daddy already.” He started pounding into her, picking up the pace. “God Alan, yes… just like that.” She tried to turn her head to get a quick glimpse at him but he pressed her back into the mattress, and gave her butt cheeks a rough spank. “Touch yourself!”, he commanded. “Huh?.. Ouch!” He spanked her again. “I said touch yourself.” “Y-Yes Sir.” Charlotte obeyed and stroke her wet folds, before massaging her pink button. Alan’s move got more sloppier, signalising that he was close. After a few more thrusts a wave of sensation hit Charlotte, making herself come and feeling Alan hitting all the right spots sent her overwhelming pleasure. The air was filled with moans of both of them, Alan reaching his climax, filling Charlotte with his juice. As he got off of his high he began to tremble, so he quickly laid down and pulled Charlotte in his arms. Both smiling, catching their breath before Charlotte starting laughing. “Men get sexually aroused so easily.” “Well I won’t apologise.”, he replied with a smirk. The musician pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Did you hear that?”, Charlotte startled. “Very funny, hun.” “No I mean it!”, she sat up straight as a post. Alan moved to rest on his forearm. “The front door just-“ she was in interrupted by a male voice. “Charlotte are you home?” She looked at Alan with big eyes. “Quick get up!” “Calm down, we-“ “I’m serious. Get dressed for fucks sake.”, she whispered and threw his shirt at him. “Hurry up.” “Charlie, we should simply try and talk to-“ A knock at the door. Shiiiit. “Get behind the door.”, the girl whispered in panic. Alan looked at her reproachfully. “Please.” So Alan quickly grabbed his shirt and hide behind the door. “ “Charlotte?!” “Yes, dad, give me a moment!” She jumped into her jeans and threw on a worn t-shirt from the floor. Just in time before Frank came in, she reached the door and opened it halfway. “Hi dad, I’m sorry. I just got out of the shower and needed to get dressed.”, giving him a smile. “Are you alone?” “Of course I am.“ But he had already pushed the door wide open and made his way past Charlotte. Alan was now tightly pressed between the wall and the door, listening carefully. ”See? I told you dad.” Frank looked around her room, the bag of clothes catching his attention. “What the fuck is this?”, he yelled and picked up the bag, yanking out some of the items. “I- I want to go on a short trip with my girls… Not for long, 2 days or so. I would have told you before leaving…”, Charlotte explained, already taking a few steps back as she noticed her father coming closer. “You think I don’t know what this is? You wanna leave, for good. Again.” “No dad, I don’t. I’d never…”, her voice filled with fear. He came dangerously close but before he could lay hand on her, Alan came out of his hiding, pulling him away from her and stood between the two. “I swear to God, touch her one more time and you’re a dead man.”

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

#Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Blues Brothers #blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers fandom #Alan Rubin x Reader #Alan Rubibn #Mr.Fabulous

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mailspoon4-blog · 6 years ago

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55 astonishing Stocks Best Bedroom Design Ideas

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Home » bedroom » 55 astonishing Stocks Best Bedroom Design Ideas

18 retro themed bedroom design ideas learn more what’s not to love about this bedroom everything in it screams bohemia with these unique handcrafted designs i love the use of art behind the bed in place of a traditional headboard and the drum set night stands are incredible 65 bedroom decorating ideas how to design a master bedroom 65 bedroom ideas decorating tips and decor inspiration treat yourself to one of these relaxing retreats and we promise you ll wake up happier bedroom interior design ideas – home design ideas this is a bedroom interior design ideas house is a private bedroom and is usually hidden from our guests however it is important to her not only for fort but also style bedroom ideas 52 modern design ideas for your bedroom you might associate a boutique bedroom design with a trendy hotel but you can enjoy sumptuous luxury even in a dated apartment here we upholstered the chaise in a vibrant blue velvet crocodile fabric toning with teal coloured velvets on the deep buttoned headboard and runner small bedroom design ideas decorating themes & furnitu using small furniture for in your bedroom design ideas that have storage shelves or drawers built into them will eliminate the need for storage furniture and increase the amount of space in a room master bedroom ideas – master bedroom ideas master bedroom ideas get the latest bedroom ideas trends and news Inspiring Gold Bedroom Ideas Elegant Grey Gold Bedroom Best Bedroom Chairs 0d, source: bestbedroom.us Great Romantic Bedroom Decor New Bedroom Design Ideas Lovely Setup 0d, source: bestbedroom.us Gorgeous Bedrooms Design In Bedroom Design Best Bedroom Bedroom Schemes Bedroom Schemes 0d Ideas, source: smapin.com Nice Bedroom Designs Ideas Valid Modern Bedroom Decor Best Bedroom Bedroom Setup Bedroom Setup 0d, source: masclientes.com.mx Small Bedroom Designs · Charming Media Cache Ec0 Pinimg 1200x 03 01 0d, source: bestbedroom.us Red Wall Decoration Ideas Good Wall Decals For Bedroom Unique 1 Kirkland Wall Decor Home Design 0d, source: eldiariodelanovia.com

Gallery of best bedroom design ideas <![CDATA[.bingkai width:100%;float:left;display:block;.crwidth:132px;float:left;position:relative;padding:0px 6px 6px 0;display:block;.cr a img height:90px;]]>

small bedroom design ideas decorating themes & furnitu using small furniture for in your bedroom design ideas that have storage shelves or drawers built into them will eliminate the need for storage furniture and increase the amount of space in a room master bedroom ideas – master bedroom ideas master bedroom ideas get the latest bedroom ideas trends and news 32 best bedroom decor tips how to decorate a bedroom the 32 best bedroom decor tips for the most stylish room imaginable think beyond your night stand 56 master bedroom sitting area design ideas small or this beautiful log cabin bedroom plimented by a sliding glass door leading out to a porch is ideal for watching a sunrise if you have the porch space and live in a place where it’s warm all year around this is a great sitting area to enjoy a cup of coffee or tea Related Posts:

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49 New Images Of Unique Design Bedroom Furniture

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53 Admirably Images Of Alison Dilaurentis Bedroom Decor

Source: https://blimeyoreilly.org/best-bedroom-design-ideas/

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travelonlinetips-blog · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/where-to-go-on-holiday-in-february-the-best-trips-to-book-now/

Where to go on holiday in February: the best trips to book now

February may be synonymous with Valentine’s Day, but there’s not much romantic about the grey trudge of the UK winter.

Here are 10 of the best destinations to brighten your mood when things get dreary.

Rovaniemi, Finland

See the Northern Lights in the comfort of the Aurora Wagon (Apukka Resort)

Sure, it’s chilly in Finnish Lapland in February too (around -13C at its most bone-jangling) but this is also a prime time and place to spot the mesmerising swirls of the Aurora Borealis, which are particularly vivid at this time of year. The best way to explore this arctic wilderness is via Aurora Wagon. Hop into one of these cosy cabins on wheels and you’ll be driven through the vast snowy landscape in search of the perfect spot to park up for the evening. Then, you’ll be left to your own devices to gaze through the panoramic windows as the sky erupts above you.

Average temperature in February: -10C

Flight time: 3 hours 25 minutes

You might also like: Northern lights tour from Rovaniemi

Bolivia

Standing on the arid and otherworldly Uyuni Salt Flats, at a lung-pinching altitude of 3,600m, Kachi dome camp will be the first luxury accommodation in the area when it opens in February 2018. Here, comfort meets true wilderness (each dome has a private bathroom, comfortable bedding, interior decoration including bleached woods and earthy textiles and heating). From the camp you’ll be able to hike to the lower lip of the Tunupa volcano, visit an island covered with giant cacti, seek out the mummies sheltering in a cave at the nearby village of Coquesa and learn how the locals collect salt from the surface of the Salar.

Average temperature in February: 13C

Flight time: 20 hours

The Serengeti, Tanzania

Spy wildebeest babies from the comfort of Roving Bushtops (Roving Bushtops)

Roving Bushtops is a camp designed to capture the pioneering spirit of the early explorers. At the end of January, it will relocate, following the wildebeest migration south to Kusini. From its new base, guests will have a chance to witness the spectacular three-month-long birthing season where, at its peak, more than 8,000 tiny wildebeest babies are born every day. As the spectacle is so often overlooked in favour of the Great Migration, you’ll share views of the births, and the predators that lurk looking to try their luck at a meal, with very few other humans.

Average temperature in February: 19C

Flight time: 10 hours 40 minutes

You might also like: 8 Day Serengeti Trail

The Forest of Dean, UK

We can’t promise you’ll levitate after a session floating in the Forest of Dean (Rick Nadal)

Deepest Gloucestershire might not be the first place that springs to mind when it comes to a winter holiday, but actually there’s good reason to go down to the woods in February. When it opens its doors (or rather, pods), Float in the Forest will be one of the only places in the country where you can take part in flotation therapy before emerging into picturesque woodland – rather than a busy high street. The relaxation therapy involves floating on the surface of warm water saturated with Epsom salts, and can be combined with holistic therapies and more physically demanding experiences, like kayaking and hiking.

Average temperature in February: 5C

Flight time: N/A

Southern Kenya

Off-season East Africa can be pretty exhilarating. Which is why luxury travel company Asilia has launched a new series of itineraries, which are only bookable in quieter months, like February. Its active Kenya adventure is not your average jeep and sleep safari. Instead, you’ll zipline through forests, hike to the top of a volcanic crater, mountain bike through the canyons of Hell’s Gate National Park, and spend a day exploring the forests, waterfalls, and escarpment of the Aberdare National Park. You’ll finish at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy where you can learn all about their world-class rhino conservation efforts.

Average temperature in February: 21C

Flight time: 8 hours 35 minutes

Oman

Sunrise at Jabal Al Akhdar in Oman (Anantara)

Oman doesn’t top as many bucket lists as it should. It’s relatively untouched (even by seasoned travellers), has the most incredible Mars-like scenery and is not as concerned with opulence as some of its close neighbours – making it an easy and unfussy country to negotiate. Omani winter ends in February, bringing with it an ideal sightseeing climate, meaning you can explore its glittering wadis, elaborate mosques and smoky souks while staying comfortable. Adrenalin junkies should book into the Antantara Al Jabar Al Akhdar, which sits at a nosebleed-worthy 2,000 metres above sea level, for staggering canyon views and a chance to climb its nerve-testing activity wall.

Average temperature in February: 22C

Flight time: 7 hours 10 minutes

The Kimberley, Western Australia

Known for its craggy gorges, rugged natural beauty and isolated coastline, the dramatic Kimberley region in Western Australia is one of the world’s last great wildernesses. Newly launching in February will be COMO The Treasury’s new five-night package, which will include spending your first and last night in the striking converted bank property in Perth, with three nights in the middle of the trip spent in luxury accommodation in the wild Kimberley, offering the ideal combination of a cultural city break and off the beaten track outback adventure.

Average temperature in February: 25C

Flight time: 20 hours

You might also like: The Great Kimberley Overland

Singapore

February is the perfect time to head to Singapore. Not only is it at its least rainy, least humid and most sunny at this time of year, the month also marks the celebration of the Chinese (Lunar) New Year. Head out onto the streets and you’ll see Marina Bay awash with stilt walkers and lion dancers, and the streets festooned with brightly coloured paper lanterns. Browse the many street hawker centres for a melting pot of foods, including the Michelin starred Liao Fan Hong Kong Soya Sauce Chicken Rice & Noodle. Which will set you back about a pound.

Average temperature in February: 27C

Flight time: 12 hours 50 minutes

You might also like: Singapore’s China Town Food Adventure

Mexico

Monarch Biosphere Reserve in Mexico (Shutterstock)

Mexico is home to two brilliantly wild events in February: the monarch butterfly migration, which sees millions of the delicate insects make their way to Canada, and the arrival of humpback, blue and grey whales which breed off the country’s Pacific coast. Book with Black Tomato, which will tailor-make a trip to Michoacan, home to Monarch Biosphere Reserve. Here you can explore the pine forests of Mariposa Monarca, hiking and horse-riding through swarms of monarch butterflies with a local biologist, who will explain ins and outs of this remarkable wintering migration.

Average temperature in February: 16C

Flight time: 11 hours 55 minutes

Illulissat, Greenland

Sleep in an igloo in Greenland (Mike Rinno Kruse)

Fancy sleeping in an igloo? Head to the iceberg-filled Illulissat on Greenland’s west coast and you can do just that, at a brand new Igloo Lodge, launching at the end of January 2018. Run by Arctic Travel specialists Off the Map Travel, the lodge is ideal for those wanting to add even more adventure to their Arctic experience. Each hand-built igloo comes complete with reindeer skins, specialist warm winter sleeping bags and a petroleum lamp on a night table. And while outside temperatures can plummet well below freezing, the igloos remain at around 0 degrees Celsius. Positively toasty.

Average temperature in February: -9C

Flight time: 7 hours 55 minutes

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apsbicepstraining · 8 years ago

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Technology is lastly changing the apartment rental know-how

Omri Barzilay Crunch Network Contributor

Omri Barzilay is a co-founder of Propcy.

How to connect the network

The real estate rental market is a highly localized, relationship-based industry driven primarily by individuals living and working in their own metropolis, justification numerous to acknowledge the longstanding rigor of streamlining disruption to this market.

In recent years, however, that hasnt stopped a multitude of inventors from seeking novel ways to improve the processs efficiency.

If early inventors like Zillow and Trulia principally necessitated wreaking real estate data online, newer trailblazers harness data not only to improve analytics for proprietors, but also to improve efficiency for accommodation seekers. This becomes more important as New York City, for example, begins to see the commencement of an expected upsurge in rental apartments more than 38,000 market-rate rental accommodations, mostly in Brooklyn and Queens, are expected to be completed over the next three years.

With the onset of new technologies, the market has begun to alteration nearly every aspect of the rental process, from leasing applications to communications with landowners and agents to payment processing.

You truly dont have to look back more than five years and the only real alternative for renters searching for an apartment was Craigslist, said Matt Reilly, Director of Growth at RadPad .However, the Craigslist experience exactly doesnt cut it with todays digital-savvy renter. More than 90 percent of people looking for their next living situation are searching online first and more than 60 percentage are seeming on mobile.

As rentals grow commoditized and fewer beings are filled being tied down to static assets, a number of musicians have sought to empower potential renters in new ways. The first, and perhaps more obvious, is permitting rental without a intermediary. New York-based real estate startup Oliver, for example, launched in 2015 to serve as a scaffold that cuts out the middleman and seamlessly connects renters with apartments.

What this represents in practice is that by aggregating real-time rental inventorying directly from owned both managers and landlords, rather than through third-parties, the Oliver app allows renters is not simply to browse and filter indices as could be done on other stages, but too to schedule establishes at the tap of a button using an in-app calendar facet. Rezi, an earlier-stage New York startup, too saves era by automatically planning multiple apartment visits to fit its customers schedules.

Just as Uber and Seamless allowed millennials to seek transportation and food in less manual, more automated access, Oliver empowers renters by weakening the time spent contacting third-parties to ensure that the accommodation door will be open whenever is most convenient for them, said Zachary Katz, Olivers Chief Strategy Officer. Our perception is that in a few years, as the on-demand economy grows , no one will accept that considering apartments involves announcing and emailing landowners, or otherwise a sizable brokers fee. To frame the terms in the classical financials, pulpits like Oliver will be particularly well placed to captivate appraise from the wasteful chink currently wedged between supply and demand.

Others have invested resources in improving the procedure to be followed for dealers themselves. Nestio, a residential leasing and marketing scaffold, modernizes the leasing process utilizing cloud-based application, which allows rolls to be shared, leads to be tracked and clients to be managed in one easy-to-use platform.

An increasing number of startups, both tiny and big, are empowering renters .

Earlier this year, Naked Accommodations, a website that optimizes how brokers can proactively approach potential and current buyers with appropriate, targeted schedules, grew Zillows fifth consumer-brand buy, with the shared goal of using data analytics to accompanied opennes to New Yorks real estate landscape for brokers.

As agents waste less duration at their table and more duration closing on rental spates via mobile applications, DotLoop has also focused on automating more redundant duties by allowing agents to upload important records, negotiate deals and get bank-approved e-signatures in a single platform.

Others are playing matchmaker in different ways: by connecting potential roommates to each other.Roomi, which raised$ 4 million in seed fund is presided over by DCM Ventures and already boasts more than 375,000 useds in Northern america, as well as smaller grocery participates like EasyRoommate, make it simpler for renters to find and connect with compatible roommates, whether hiring an additional chamber in an suite or examining together for the purposes of an apartment.

Other startups are seeking to disrupt the conventional corporate housing and long-term bide marketplace. Startups like HomeSuite, an online marketplace that removes the hassle from spotting furnished house, aggregates not only long-term but too short-term inventory, geared towards individuals who might previously have focused their huntings on more standard month-to-month dimension administrators. In doing so, they find themselves filling the grey zone between Craigslist and Airbnb, serving the needs of individuals looking for something more permanent than a vacation rental yet more transient than a generally longer lease commitment.

Disruption hasnt been limited to the search process. Even remittance mixtures and mobile are being integrated into newer stages by companionships like RadPad, an end-to-end photo-based rental marketplace aiming to become an -Ato-Z platform for renters and landowners alike.

RentPaymentsimilarly increases the hassle of newspaper checks and improves the rent remittance and collect process by serving as a platform for renters to pay their rentals immediately to their dimension managers by debit card, debit card or e-check.

As lead-generation platforms begin to focus more on entitling with complex data analytics those involved in the rental process, an increasing number of startups, both small and large, are entitling renters with more flexible co-living options, capitalizing on the trends toward both optimized roommate parallel and pre-furnished apartments.

WeWork, the international co-working startup appraised upwards of $16 billion as of March 2016, announced in January that it has begun to proselytize some of its cavities into fully furnished, flexible accommodations. WeLive replicates the security and consolation of a suburban vicinity, but with the vitality and vivacity of a major city, said the company in a statement, spotlighting the companys strategy to provide tenants with private and semi-private casing adaptations alongside community episodes like fitness castes and potluck dinners, as well as a digital social network. Common, another co-living startup, also offers what it calls flexible, community-driven home, and, in doing so, is changing the road suite rental is traditionally done.

As more user-friendly startups begin to steal market share from Craigslist, the best interests of the disruptive innovation that shortens rental-market opacity has become ever clearer, and speaks to the expectations that renters, agents and landowners now have around permitting the rental process, primarily offline in years past, with new technologies. Even more incremental changes, from video walk-throughs to new ways of slicing parish rental data, have begun to play significant capacities as startups cram into the real estate sell, hoping for even a small slice of a huge pie.

The post Technology is lastly changing the apartment rental know-how appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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mohanmekap · 8 years ago

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Recently, Google has announced that it would be giving prominence to such sites those have the SSL certificate. Which means such sites should begin with HTTPS instead of HTTP. This means every traffic to and fro from server should be encrypted so that each time visitors opens the web page it should be encrypted connectivity and the green lock in the browser address bar should be shown to start and make sure that it every connection to the site is properly encrypted.

A website with SSL (secure socket layer) does give huge benefits in terms of search engine optimisation as well as in the long run site loads quickly and loads faster. Most of self-hosted WordPress sites do have HTTP protocol and buying a SSL protocol brings forward extra amount of money and for this majority of webmasters avoid this. Most of WordPress website owners are single site owners and for this spending too much, money on SSL o HTTPS protocol does not feel comfortable for them.

SSL is a web cryptographic protocol which takes care of data which sends from server to user’s computer through a specific security layer and while browsing such site one green-lock on the left side of the navigation bar could be seen. This article aims to educate webmasters about how to turn self hosted HTTP WordPress sites into HTTPS site without spending a penny.

By following this guide yours HTTP wordpress site should be converted into HTTPS (Hypertext transfer protocol secure) after enabling SSL with cloudflare for your site. In this way, the receiving and sending of facts to your website is now properly encrypted and thus removing any chances of snooping, hijacking or spying on users as well as of your hosting.

How to Setup CloudFlare Free SSL for WordPress Blog:

SSL certificate has a public key and private key, after receiving information from host, the servers of cloudflare see the private key installed on the server and then with the available public key it decrypt data and then send it to user’s computer. In the past we have seen most of critical websites such as banks and government agencies does need huge amount of secrecy of sending and receiving of informations but with due course of time we have seen complete and much growth of use of SSL even in people sites and even Google encourage webmasters to carry out this HTTPS protocol so that internet assets can be well protected and a definite trust should be built upon all website visitors so that internet would be a safer and mightier places to roam around almost.

Before writing this tutorials, all safety measures has been taken but under any circumstances the reader should not blame the writer as this tutorial is for educational process and with it the webmaster could garner and learn about it and then on his or her own idea should start implementing the forms of SSL on their site. Due to recent Google announcement of giving prominence and importance to SSL or HTTPS as a ranking signal which also enable webmasters to go for SSL or HTTPS but due to high amount of price associated with it most of webmasters does not intended to move to this through hosting provider.

Cloudflare is one of the most dynamic CDN (content delivery network) services which provides huge amount of encouragement for website owners to move towards the possibility of faster web access and now it is offering free SSL to non-HTTPS websites which means it is a boon for most word press websites to make it complete secure.

Different SSL options for cloudflare:

Even free cloudflare users can carry out SSL on their site and this is a great news for users. Cloudflare offers different SSL options such as off, flexible SSL, full SSL, Full SSL strict in its crypto option after adding website with clouflare. Login to https://www.cloudflare.com/ and then register it and then login to it and then add site from the right hand upper side of its dashboard and then add the site and click continue and cloudflare should scan your site for DNS records for some time. Then it should show the list of Cname, Arecords and MX records and then click on the grey clouds beside those and it should become orange cloud and this means now your site is slowly moving to the cloudflare cloud storages.

Changing of hosting name server to cloud flare name server:

Before implementing cloudflare flexible SSL on yours HTTP site it is important that your site should be fully with cloudflare and for this it is important to change the name servers of your hosting to cloudflare name servers. It should show the names servers of cloud flare now and it should be two name servers considering the which plan you have been. For personal site the free plan is good and in the future if you wish to shift to other plans can do it without any difficulties. Note down both the name servers of cloud flare and then open cpanel hosting.

Login to it and reach to manage orders and then open domain registration and from there open name servers and click on it and after opening of it you should be seeing the name servers provided to you by hosting provider and then cut both and then change both to the name server of cloudflare which you have written just now and then update name servers. Name servers are used to point your domain name to your website or email service. Cloudflare should give you at least two name servers and paste those servers and drop hosting name server and wait for one or two hours for DNS propagation to be completed or wait for at least 24 hours and in these time there could have been possibility of yours site could be down for some time but do not worry about it and it should be live while the DNS change from yours hosting to cloudflare DNS change completed.

Now the first part of connecting your site to cloudflare DNS is completed. This means from now on all the A. AAAA, CNAME record of your traffic should be routed entirely through cloudflare system. Before adding cloudflare name server to yours domain name server, it is important to remember to delete hosting name servers and add the two assigned name servers of cloudflare which has been assigned to you and it is important to remove all the other name servers from the system otherwise cloudflare integration with yours website should not start.

WordPress plus cloudflare flexible SSL:

Those who have the SSL certificate from the host could carry out full SSL with cloudflare. It could be accessed through after logging into cloudflare click on the name of the site you assigned cloudflare which should be at the left hand top of website. This tutorial is all about learning of how to make flexible SSL through cloudflare on HTTP websites. After clicking on the name of the site in a series of menu buttons should appear from there. Click on crypto to appear its sub menus.

Crypt settings of cloudflare manage cryptography settings for your website. The first sub menu of crypto settings of cloudflare is SSL which encrypt communications to and from your website using SSL even without an active SSL certificate and here we should be choosing flexible. The benefits of using SSL are vast and enormous for webmasters. It ensures that the sending and receiving informations in encrypted cryptographic tunnels. The informations put forward by visitors remain confidential. Yours website contents have not been modified or stolen while receiving from the server to the client computer. Of course as earlier we have discussed the search engine rankings of your website to get the major boost from it.

Here, I perceive your website is on http and in order to make it https with the help from cloud flare you should be using flexible SSL here there should be an encrypted connection between website visitors and cloudflare but not from cloudflare and your hosting sever. The benefits to having flexible SSL on your website is that you do not need to purchase expensive SSL certificate on your server and additionally your website visitors should see the SSL Lock green icon on their web browser. You can open https://mohanmekap.com on your web browser to see the flexible HTTPs in action.

If you disable cloudflare settings within yours host by deleting name servers then suo motto the SSL settings of your website should be deleted. In order to keep these settings on cloudflare name servers should be there with your domain hosting provider.

The process of enabling flexible https on yours http site:

Now, choose SSL and flexibility from its drop down menu. Then reach to origin certificates and click on the create certificate to create the SSL certificate. It should show one public certificate and one private certificate. Copy the private certificate there and keep it in a secure place and then click on ok to create the certificate. Now, the next step is to paste that private certificate to your hosting server. Log into cpanel hosting and then reach to security of cPanle main and click on SSL/TLS. SSL/TLS manager will let you generate SSL certificate or install pre purchased SSL certificate on hosting server. Then reach to Private Key (Key) and open it and paste the private key you just have copied while generating the SSL original certificate from cloud flare server. Then save it and that is done and yours one part of free SSL certificate obtained from Cloudflare is now installed on your original hosting server. The public key should be staying with cloudflare so that it could decrypt the connection to the users.

Now logout from cPanel. Wait for utmost 24 hours to see your website should be showing automatically https signs instead of http. Then in crypto settings of cloudflare scroll down further to enable ‘Authenticated Origin Pulls’, then ‘opportunistic encryption’ to turn it on. Lastly, scroll down further and reach to ‘Automatic HTTPS Rewrites’ and turned it on. This function safely rewrites the unsecured or http connection from an origin server to cloud flare server and then securely convert those resources to encrypt. Cloudflare server checked the checksum of the original HTML contents which sent to web browsers after converting from PHP and then rule set is checked so that everything should be accessible to HTTPS on.

Wait for 24 hours within these times and do not be worried about it and then on the next day open yours website with HTTP and you should be surprised to find it automatically, changes to HTTPS protocol but the green lock icon not showing and the reason for this and in the later article we would discuss about it in detail. You should be finding there could have been too much redirect loop for yours website and thus making and breaking all css and customisation to make yours website look ugly and in the later stages we should discuss how to rectify it a must have step but for now, after enabling of SSL on yours website it has been seen that while accessing WordPress administration the front end server of WordPress, due to presence of such infinite indirect loop, it could not log into it and if you could not log into WordPress administration then how could post and update yours posts and other clean up activities like removing of spam comments and so on.

How to prevent infinite redirect loop on WordPress administration the front end of word press after enabling flexible SSL:

On yours cloudflare dashboard and its site menu reach out to ‘Page Rules’. In simple term with page-rule you control your cloudflare settings by URL. In the free option of cloudflare, three page rules are allowed which should be enough to stop infinite redirect loop on wordpress administration at the front end and thus preventing the logging into it by administrator.

First create a page rule for your site; 1.Page Rule: http://yoursite.com/* (Here change it to your URL and your original URL that is with HTTP)

Then the settings are: Always Use HTTPS

Save and deploy: Click on it

2.Page Rule: http://yoursite.com/wp-admin/*

Then the settings are: Opportunistic Encryption: Off

Save and deploy: Click on it.

3.Page rule: http://yoursite.com/wp-login.php* (Watch the difference of this from page rule 1 and 2. Here at the end of wp-login.php only asterisk not the slash. It is important)

Then the settings are: Opportunistic Encryption: Off

Save and Deploy: Click on it

Now, you have three set of page rules out there, and the page rule 2 and 3 are meant for comfortable logging of word press administration as administrator and both these settings are turned on which means now you can smoothly logging into word press administration without facing the problems with indirect loops. Some other content delivery network did give some other option such as white listing of internet protocol addresses but that does not work while implementing flexible SSL on your site.

Essential WordPress plugins to be installed on WordPress administration:

Cloudflare

After enabling flexible SSL options with your website now it is time to add some add on at the front end of wordpress. Front end of wordpress is better known as wordpress administration where web administrator able to post articles, delete spam comments, installation of plugins and, so on. When you run your website with cloud flare it is important to install ‘Cloudflare’ wordpress plugins so that complete assimilation of cloudflare with front end through its plugin and back end through its DNS settings which we have discussed in detail in earlier would be possible.

Install it within wordpress front end and then activate it. Go to its settings and login it with the same user name and password of cloudflare account you have enabled SSL for yours site and then it should ask for api and for this youwill have to login cloudflare through web address and from its dashbaord you could find information about API key and note down the private key and then paste it on the cloudflare plugin of wordpress adminstration to authorise the same cloudflare account. In this way, you have enabled the option for complete synchronisation of cloudflare account with the back end and front end of wordpress server and this creates another form of smooth sailing of your website to a considerable extent.

2.CloudFlare Flexible SSL

This plugin is part of CloudFlare Flexible SSL as it prevents infinite wordpress loop as the result of turning on flexible SSL. Infinite Flexible SSL does remove all customisation to wordpress site and present only the bare bone of wordpress site. In order to stay afloat with the same wordpress site as it was before it is important to install this plugin into wordpress so that your site remains as it is as it was before when it was on http. Download it and then activate it and no further configuration needed and you are done with it.

3.Install WordPress HTTPS (SSL):

It is important to install this plugin. This plugins simply renames all of yours http content such as javascript. CSS, images into HTTPS so that no further https errors should crop up at any point of time. After installation of this plugin, go to its settings which should be at the left hand side bar and then go to its ‘General Settings’, then scroll down and in the ‘Proxy’ sub settings click on ‘yes’ and then enter on ‘save changes’.

That’s it and from now on, yours word press site should be loading with error free HTTPS with green lock signal and this goes on to show how could a non HTTPS site without spending any thing on it converted into fully functional flexible SSL or HTTPS site. In the later write ups I should be focussing more on about how to develop and generate good search engine optimisation techniques after installation of flexible SSL. I hope you have enjoyed this article too much and should have tried on your website so that the benefits of HTTPS websites without spending anything should come at you and before doing so always go for thorough knowledge updating by reading such articles of Google search.

While implementing all these steps one need to be extremely careful and should have patience as DNS propagation takes time as well as approval of SSL certificate and authorisation of it does take time and for this you should wait for it and even if these informations does not seem on yours web browser, it is important to clear the privacy settings which deletes cookies and website informations and then run yours website to see the complete HTTPS on it. I hope you should succeed on it and enjoy the beauty of HTTPS too on your website without spending anything! Thanks to CloudFlare. Have a nice day.

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