#request header fields too large

[darkmatilda]

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while working on the case and watching a certain profiler with pretty eyes and a well-tailored coat, you overhear some local cops badmouthing him — and before you know it, you decide to put them in their place.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, unpleasant comments about spencer’s looks and behavior, diva is so diva he should marry her right now fr and hold my hand while i say this and don’t panic joke about morgan's baldness...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.8k

𝐚/𝐧: request | i was too much of a lazy bitch to make a header sorry i hope his pretty face makes up for it xx

“How are you feeling out in the field?”

Morgan addressed you with his arms loosely crossed over his chest and a slightly teasing expression on his face. You slowly shifted your gaze to him.

“Absolutely fantastic,” you replied flatly, adjusting your grip on the handle of the umbrella resting against your side. Through the tree canopies spreading above your heads, patches of gray clouds broke through, now and then releasing a few drops as a warning of the real downpour to come. “I love nature.”

He nodded ironically, clearly unconvinced.

“Of course,” he said. “Do you love the mud on your boots too?”

Almost exactly as those words left his mouth, several large raindrops tapped against his FBI jacket, followed immediately by more, falling with even greater intensity. Your friend raised his eyes to the sky, pressing his lips together in displeasure. Rainy weather always made working at a crime scene harder—securing the body and protecting biological and chemical evidence. And collecting the latter was already challenging given the location: a truly remote, densely overgrown spot in the forest, impossible to access by police vehicles. Those had been left at the end of the forest path, as far in as they could get, and you’d been led to the exact place where the latest victim of the serial killer had been found by local officers.

“I’m about to have mud on my boots,” you remarked, already imagining what would happen to the already damp ground after even just a few minutes of such heavy rain. The conditions you encountered had been predictable, so you had chosen footwear suited to them—stylish boots that also perfectly complemented the rest of your outfit. But then again, that was nothing unusual. Even if you had to evacuate during a volcanic eruption, you’d grab something you wouldn’t be ashamed to have melted into your skin by lava.

You opened the umbrella, which had until then been resting with its tip on the ground. Derek took a step toward you, premature gratitude written all over his face—so you stepped back instead, the corners of your mouth curling up mischievously.

“What? Worried about your hair?”

Morgan shook his bald head from side to side, sighing.

“You little witch—”

“Morgan!”

Hotch’s voice called out to you from a not particularly great distance. Even he—who normally never parted with his suit—was now wearing a brown fleece with a high collar and was currently overseeing the setup of a police tent over the recovered body to protect it from the rain.

Derek gave you a nod in farewell, ending the brief chat, but you didn’t even follow him with your eyes. Your gaze remained fixed in Hotch’s direction—or more precisely, on the member of his team who had just approached him. What immediately caught your attention was that Reid was wearing a very well-tailored coat (a detail that made you purse your lower lip in approval, because well tailored coats did have something about them), and he had just begun explaining something, as usual gesturing animatedly with his hands—now covered in blue rubber gloves, lightly dusted with dark soil.

Focused on whatever fascinating theory or analysis he was sharing, he seemed completely unaware of at least half of his gestures, absentmindedly rubbing his chin with the dirty glove in concentration—naturally leaving a mark on his skin.

You rolled your eyes at the sight, but there was something surprisingly gentle in that gesture. You turned the handle of the umbrella in your hand, which also rested on your shoulder—and then the corner of your ear caught a scrap of conversation happening behind your back. Even without turning your head, just by slightly focusing your hearing, you could tell it was coming from two of the local officers also present at the scene.

“Where do you think they even dug him up from?” asked the first male voice mockingly.

“Which one?” the second sounded confused, but a moment later let out a derisive snort. ��Alright, don’t even tell me. I already know who you mean.”

Laughter. Real kings of comedy, truly.

“I wonder what he’s even doing in the FBI. I mean, they’ve got to have some kind of fitness tests, right? What’s a beanpole like that even good for?”

“I’ll tell you what he’s good for—pissing everyone off with his babbling. Just look at the other guy’s face.”

Following the suggestion, you looked at the other guy’s face. That, of course, meant Hotch’s face—there was no doubt who the first part of that pathetic, taxpayer-funded conversation had been about. You studied the BAU chief’s expression more closely and didn’t detect a hint of irritation or weariness at whatever Spencer was explaining to him. Hotch simply looked like Hotch.

Your observation was interrupted by the approach of one of your team members, the hood of her raincoat pulled tightly around her head and her glasses nearly completely covered in rain.

“We’re going to have to go back to the car for the equipment,” she informed you, adjusting her glasses on her nose with a sigh the moment she looked toward the path you had come from earlier. That meant quite a bit of walking through muddy terrain, carrying rather heavy items—always packed in sturdy cases for safety reasons.

A certain thought popped into your head, and with a smile creeping onto your lips, you calmed Olivia with a wave of your hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said. The woman frowned suspiciously as you turned over your shoulder toward the two men behind you. “Gentlemen, could I ask you for a favor?”

They stared at you for a beat too long, then at each other—and then eagerly stepped forward to fulfill the favor, whatever it was.

“Of course...”

“Anything you wish...”

You cleared your throat.

“You’ll go and bring back the case with number two on it,” you instructed.

Olivia furrowed her brows and parted her lips to protest, but you silenced her with just a look.

“But you need to be extremely careful,” you continued smoothly, “so, very slowly. Ideally, carry it together—for stability.”

The men listened with rapt attention and visible determination to follow your directions. Which, of course, were nonsense—one person could easily carry it alone. But trying to do it as a pair would stretch the trip out nicely in all that rain and mud. Then, well, they were gone, like children you’d promised candy to.

It was so very typical of the kind of men you made use of—just as typical as their pitiful little sense of being useful, irreplaceable.

You watched them vanish between the trees, and when your gaze met Olivia's again, her face showed both surprise and a certain intrigue.

“But we need case number three,” she pointed out, correctly.

You opened your mouth in exaggerated disbelief.

“Really…? Oh, Olivia, why didn’t you say so earlier,” you sighed, making it clear that the whole thing had been a game from the start.

The woman stayed silent for a moment, genuinely trying to figure out your intentions. She gave up shortly after, shaking her head with a sigh.

“And what kind of sadist are you playing today?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” you assured her.

The officers returned, lugging the wrong case and looking like wet dogs, their hair plastered to their foreheads from the rain, which had only intensified since they’d left. They set it down in front of you and Olivia, both sheltered under the umbrella you were holding, visibly relieved they hadn’t dropped it.

You waited a few seconds, during which they stood silently, clearly expecting some kind of eternal gratitude, before raising an eyebrow.

“I said case number three.”

They exchanged a look.

“Um, I’m pretty sure you said the one with number two on it.”

“Um, sounds like you’ve got a hearing problem,” you snapped, sharper than you’d intended, the words slipping out before you could stop them

It wasn’t something you’d planned from the start, and for a second, you were secretly surprised at yourself. But since sharpness and spite had apparently chosen you today, you decided to stick with that version of events and made sure your face reflected the proper level of displeasure.

Olivia glanced sideways at you for a long moment, then nodded with faux certainty.

“Yeah, she definitely said case number three. You must’ve misheard. Not your fault, maybe it was the rain,” she offered in a more sympathetic tone, though still fully backing your story.

The men exchanged confused looks, now with a flicker of doubt that maybe it had been their mistake. So, off they went again—to return the wrong case and fetch the correct one. When they finally disappeared, you gave Olivia a small, grateful smile.

Only to immediately wipe it off your face as the dumbasses reappeared, and declare:

“And what about my handbag? I told you to bring that too.”

And what amused you the most was that the two of them only started showing any suspicion or doubt after their third trek through the rain and mud. Frustration flashed in one of their eyes as he handed you your handbag.

“Was this really necessary for working the case?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Unbothered, and with their eyes still on you, you calmly reached into the bag for your compact mirror and lipstick, touching up your makeup with the faintest swipe.

“No,” you replied, snapping the mirror shut. “But at least you were useful for something. There’s no intellectual work here for two such empty heads, so you might as well make use of those muscles.” You gave them a critical once-over with that last word—because honesty, their physiques weren’t all that impressive either.

They stared at you in complete stupefaction before walking off, muttering something under their breath about a crazy bitch. Well, you had no intention of wasting another word on them. Another thing you had no intention of doing was explaining the entire ordeal to the clearly intrigued Olivia. And the main reason for that was the fact that you hadn’t fully rationalized it to yourself. Maybe you were just running on a higher than usual dose of spite that day.

Maybe there was another reason entirely.

Shortly afterward, Reid approached you, preoccupied with peeling off his latex gloves, only glancing at you with brows furrowed in curiosity.

“Is it just me, or did you send these guys to the cars three times?” he asked.

You merely gave a slight shrug.

“That’s what happens when you have trouble following instructions,” you remarked simply.

And before walking off to rejoin your team, you reached up and wiped that smudge of dirt from his chin with your thumb—the one you'd spotted earlier—leaving him, to put it mildly, completely stunned.

[always-andromeda]

hey, congrats on your milestone :) i’d like to request love like ghosts w calvin?

Author's Note | okay, the idea of this made me so fucking sad. so I tweaked it a little...Calvin, I love you, but if you haunted me, I'd be equal parts upset and just annoyed lmao. Calvin. Pls move on.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap, ding.

You hear the sound over and over as you brew your coffee. It's almost a part of your white noise now. Just like it once was...before...everything.

You don't even reach for a second mug anymore. It stays tucked in the back of the cabinet and you barely even regard it. Moving out of Calvin's old home disrupted your sad little routine. 

It was far too difficult to stay there. You could pay for it just fine; Calvin made sure you were well taken care of. You hadn't even known he'd had a will, let alone that he'd updated it to include you. Then again, being a famous author, of course he had people that made sure his estate would be well managed and protected from all the vultures that would descend in the event where something happened to him.

But still...you always hated living in the hills. Especially now that the home only ever reminded you of him. It was too large. Too quiet. And not the good kind of quiet either. Not the comfortable tranquility that Calvin had once created.

So you moved. You sold the fancy view and crammed your belongings into a smaller downtown apartment. Now you can listen to the traffic at all hours. The noise keeps your head occupied; gives you something else to fixate on throughout the day.

You can't get rid of his things; which doesn't help with trying not to be reminded. Of course you'd come across fans who'd asked for memorabilia. Because dead authors are worth far more than ones who are alive.

And no matter how much it bothers you now, the one possession you absolutely cannot get rid of is that typewriter. Sure, you could probably make a fortune off of it. But you wouldn't want anyone else getting this curse you now have.

Because at eight-thirty, on the dot, every single morning...you hear it. The telltale tap and chime as someone types furiously in the room that's meant to be your office.

The first time it had happened, it scared the hell out of you. You rushed into the room, not even sure what could've made the sound happen. But the sound stopped abruptly the second you stepped through the doorway as if you'd interrupted them. And there on the fresh page you'd loaded up was a single sentence. He passed through the veil the way spring turns to fall.

Your hand had shuddered as you gripped the edge of the desk. When you left the room, it began again and didn't stop for about another hour.

By the time it did and you checked the page again, it was full and ready to be replaced. As you read through the disjointed lines, you recognized the style. Descriptors and prose that only Calvin used.

And that's how you developed your insane little routine. Every morning you woke up to the sound of him writing. Every morning you sat in your kitchen, sipping away at your coffee and reading the morning paper.

Your friends are surprised to find that suddenly, you're a morning person. They pat you on the back for taking your grief by the reigns and not letting it stop you from being productive. You always have to stop yourself from chuckling. Because, if anything, you're more batshit than you've ever been. Crazier than Calvin had ever made while he was alive.

This morning it's the one year anniversary.

One Year On: Remembering Promising Young Author, Calvin Weir-Fields

The header sinks to the bottom of your stomach with a dull plunk as it hits you. The photo of his smiling face mocks you. It's been close to a year and he still hasn't left, no matter what everyone says.

Every morning for at least an hour, something that you hope is Calvin sits in your office and writes. And every morning, as soon as he is finished, you sit in the rolling chair at your desk, pull out his paper, and place it upon the ever growing stack that makes up his posthumous manuscript.

When it'll be over, you have no idea. After all, Calvin was never very good at finishing a project.

[ms-march]

12 Days of Turn- “Festival”

uhm yeah you’re not being deceived by this header collage.  Happy day 3 of 12 Days of Turn!  Here is a collaboration with @tallmadgeandtea​ on a ss:sp and lbl crossover!  While it is not inherently holiday themed, like at all, it was just too good to not post for the prompt “festival.”  If you like it please be sure to give it a like, comment, and/or reblog!  Disclaimer: there will be some serious lbl spoilers ahead!

May had blossomed in Virginia once again, and Belvoir’s grounds were as beautiful as always.  Ever since John had resigned as an aide de camp and taken a fighting command in Nathanael Greene’s Southern Army, Adrienne had occupied herself by taking trips and hosting extravagant parties at her childhood home.  The guest lists and menus never ceased to distract her from whatever certain peril John placed himself in daily.  Today she dressed in a blue and yellow polonaise gown with a blue brimmed straw hat for a garden party, hosted in the extravagant and freshly manicured gardens behind the Manor.  Her blonde curls were arranged perfectly atop her head as she walked down to the large main entrance hall with a grand doorway leading straight out into the gardens behind it.   

Adrienne stood atop the landing on the grand staircase, and the footmen opened the large front doors, two more appearing and stepping outside to assist guests out of their carriages.  Adrienne gladly smiled at each of them, motioning them behind her and out the doors to the garden.  Most of the guests were members of Virginia high society: Martha Jefferson, Dolley Madison, Elizabeth Wythe,  Martha Washington, Elizabeth Randolph, Catharine Greene, Dorothea Henry, Anne Lee, and many more.  But none of them piqued Adrienne’s interest as much as the additional guest requested by Martha Washington.

Adrienne had known the older woman for as much of her life as she could remember; the woman was as a mother to her, so she was more than willing to grant such a request when it was brought to her.  Upon hearing the name Mrs. Elizabeth Tallmadge, however, Adrienne became excited.  She held Major Tallmadge in high esteem, considering him a friend of hers, and was more than delighted to extend an invite to his wife, even if she would likely be unused to such luxury as was provided at Belvoir.  Adrienne trusted Martha would make her presentable, but when Martha began to ascend the stairs, there was not some pretty faced and practical middle-class girl following her, rather a well-dressed and beautiful tall blonde woman.  She was mesmerizing to Adrienne as she climbed the staircase, her blue and white chintz gown brushing the steps.  It was slightly clear the girl had no governess or formal studies of such, but Adrienne was entirely confident that she could perform to the highest tier without so much as a headache appearing.

The blonde had a radiant and warm smile, complimenting Martha’s own motherly grin, as she looked around the extravagant hall in awe, admiring the murals across the walls and the marble of the stairs.  Her hand hovered over the ornate railing as she floated up the stairs.  When she finally joined Adrienne and Martha atop the landing, Martha smiled, waving the slightly shy girl over to them. “This is a lovely house, madam,” she spoke clear and confidently, “It is certainly a rarity in the colonies.”

“Yes,” Adrienne offered her own warm smile to the woman, seeking to ease her shyness, “It is solely a European style house, based around the classics of Hampton court and the elaborate plaster halls of the baroque style.  My father’s pride and joy.”

She nodded politely, and Martha began to speak, the motherly smile still soft across her face, “We shall see you in the garden, dear.” And the blonde was whisked away, her eyes lingering on Adrienne for a moment as she was led by Martha.

When the long parade of guests had all arrived and been accordingly received, Adrienne slowly made her way to the doors leading to the stone staircase leading down into the gardens.  She took her time as she descended, allowing the chatter to wash over her in waves.  The musicians began to play their light and jovial music- the newest pieces straight from London - as Adrienne exited the doors.  There was no need for the crowd to hush and greet her- this was not a formal ball after all-but there were still a few who made to greet their hostess once again, giving her curtseys as she passed.  Adrienne nodded at each of them with a respectful smile as she drifted through the group of merry guests.  She floated happily from table to table before stumbling upon Martha engaging in a conversation with Catharine Greene, and the blonde from earlier observing the party from an ornate bench with a small flute of cherie in her hand, untouched.  

“You do not drink?” Adrienne asked as she approached, “I can send for another beverage if you would like, madam.” 

“Oh,” the girl startled from her observations, flushing light pink in the cheeks as she gleaned down at the untouched glass before looking back up at Adrienne, “No, that is really unnecessary.  I just find this place too intriguing to be bothered with my drink.  There is far too much to observe.”

Adrienne smiled.  This woman was undoubtedly Major Tallmadge’s wife. “It would be no trouble,” she assured her, “Please notify one of the servants about or myself if you should find yourself in need of anything at all.”

“And if I find myself in need of your name, madam?”

“Then it shall be readily given,” Adrienne smiled brightly, “Lady Adrienne Fairfax Laurens of Virginia. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.”

The blonde answered her own question in response. “Mrs. Elizabeth Walker Tallmadge of Philadelphia,” she bowed her head for a moment to acknowledge Adrienne’s title, “My Lady.”

Adrienne’s face turned to a quick shock, followed quickly by excitement as she rushed to sit beside the woman. “Walker?” she asked excitedly, “As in the same family that owns the mysterious Walker Manor?’ An amused nod was given to signal that her assumption was correct, allowing Adrienne to continue in disbelief, “That old brick house with closed gates, locked doors, and empty grounds?  No one has been seen living there for years!”

Elizabeth laughed at the younger girl’s seemingly naive antics, “I have indeed been living there, though mostly alone for the past 10 years.”

“Alone?” Adrienne asked, astounded, “Without so much as a governess?” Another nod, “Then I should imagine you cherished social outings during such a period, madam, for I cannot fathom such a miserable experience.”

Elizabeth shook her head in dismissal, “Unless you count Sunday church as a social outing, which I am sure you do not.”

Adrienne’s jaw dropped open slightly, her eyes widening slightly, “How horrid!  I do believe I would suffer greatly under such circumstances.”

Mrs. Tallmadge looked around the gardens at the decor, servants, and guests galore before responding, “I do believe that you would, my Lady.”

“Oh!” Adrienne reached out, placing her gloved hands atop those of Elizabeth, “Please call me Adrienne or Miss Fairfax at the very least.  I do believe it is well deserved after allowing me to pester you so carelessly.”

“Oh, it is no problem at all, believe me. I rather enjoy being pestered.” Elizabeth grinned at her, allowing a happy laugh to escape, with Adrienne’s own laughter joining her. “Now, allow me to pester you in return,” she continued, “Are you at all perhaps related to the Laurens’ of South Carolina?  I am friends  with Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, who has recently retired to a field command in the southern campaign.”

“Yes, I am” Adrienne spoke, and forcing a smile, she felt a good deal of joy seep out of her body at the mention of her reckless husband, “I married Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens in 1778- our son is inside with his own governess as we speak.”

“Oh!” The woman sounded shocked; Adrienne supposed it was from the lack of such knowledge.  She was sure that John did not speak of her often, if at all before he resigned from the northern campaign. “You must be delighted.  He is a good man. I was married myself in ’78. He attended our wedding.”

“He is a good man,” Adrienne sighed, attempting to keep the smile on her face, “Even if he is occasionally a little too reckless for my liking.”

“Like taking up a field command in South Carolina?” the older blonde asked, lips pulled into a humorous smile with knowing eyes and raised brows.

Adrienne did laugh lightly as she sighed, stress seeping into her voice, “Yes, precisely like taking up a field command in South Carolina.”  

This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to reach her hands out to hold Adrienne’s, “I am sure he will be ok.  He has the tendency to pull through even the most difficult of situations, I assure you. It is something he and my husband have in common.”

A servant came around to Adrienne’s side of the bench from behind, presenting a singular letter upon a tray.  Adrienne took the letter carefully, curiosity seeping through her fingers as she broke the seal.  Her hands unfolded the paper delicately, and she held it in her lap as she began to slowly scan the words.  

“On May 12th, 1780, Charleston, South Carolina, was captured by His Majesty’s Royal Army forces under the direction of Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Clinton.  Major General Benjamin Lincoln provided them an unconditional surrender, turning over himself and all 3,000 men under his command to the mercy of the British.  Those included in these troops are as follows…” 

Adrienne’s eyes scanned quickly down the list, heart pounding against her chest as they searched for the one name that mattered the most to her.  Her heart ceased in its incessant pounding, stopping entirely as her eyes glazed over the words on the paper before her.

“Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens”

Her throat was dry, and her layers became constricting.  She did not notice as the blonde’s astute eyes beside her examined the paper in Adrienne’s hand.  Until Elizabeth  spoke up, “Adrienne, I am sorry-”

She stood abruptly, swallowing thickly, “You will have to excuse me, Mrs. Tallmadge.  I need to get some fresh air.” Adrienne hurried away as quickly as she could into the house and to the room directly to the right of the garden’s entrance, drawing Martha’s eyes and mind from her conversation with Catharine Greene.  She excused herself from the woman and began to make her way into the house, Elizabeth trailing closely behind.  

Adrienne had called for her son, just a year old, and swaddled in blankets.  She sat on a chaise against the wall of the entirely empty bluish-gray room, the letter lying face-up beside her.  She did not look up the sound of heels on the tile, attention focused solely on her child.

“What happened?” Martha asked Elizabeth as she rushed through the doorway.

“She got news of her husband,” she replied, electing to forgo discretion in this instance, “And it is not all good.”

“Not good as in he prefers the new position or not good as in he is dead?”

“Neither,” she replied as they rushed into the room, the swishing noise of their silks and the click of their heels across the tile having no effect on the young girl who sat, holding her child. “Charleston has been lost and the Lieutenant Colonel taken prisoner.”

“Oh, not good,” Martha spoke, cutting the conversation off as they approached.  Martha took a seat on one side of Lady Fairfax, moving the letter to her hands so that she could sit, with Elizabeth sitting on the girl’s other side. “Adrienne, dear,” Martha spoke, placing a hand on Adrienne’s forearm, “Tell us what has happened.  We only wish to help.” She continued trying to soothe the distraught girl for several minutes to no avail.  Martha finally excused herself to send for some cold water and a washrag, hoping that would be enough to pull Adrienne out of the shock that had overtaken her body.

Elizabeth stayed with her, observing the young woman as she cradled the baby in her arms, holding him close against her chest.  She watched as Adrienne softly shushed the baby, bouncing him just slightly. “May I hold him?” she asked, pulling the girl from her stupor.

Adrienne’s eyes glanced over to the woman in blue beside her before clearing her throat and snapping to attention, “Yes, of course, you may.” She carefully handed the bundle of blankets over to Elizabeth, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “Be gentle with him,” she spoke in what sounded a bit like a plea, eyes still focused on the baby’s face, “Little John is still just barely a year old, and he is very precious to me.”

Elizabeth nodded, the baby taking her full attention as well.  A happy smile rested on her face as the baby cooed, but unlike Adrienne, she made no attempt to shush him. “He is named after his father?” she asked the young girl softly.

“Yes,” Adrienne smiled in a similar way to Martha Washington as she looked upon the baby, “He shares his father’s eyes.” The baby whined, prompting Adrianne to reach out and caress his soft cheeks and comfortingly hum to the child, Elizabeth recognizing the song as the chorus of “In Days of My Youth.” When the boy finally quieted, satisfied with her attentions, “And his temper as well.”

Elizabeth laughed a little at that, making faces to baby John. “He is an angel,” she whispered to the young woman beside her.

“He is incredibly well-behaved today,” she agreed, “But do not let him fool you.” She whispered, caressing his cheek, “His lungs are as strong as can be.  I should think he could give Colonel Hamilton a run for his money once he is older.”

“As his father already does?”

“Precisely,” Adrienne replied, prompting the two girls to begin laughing once more.

A moment of silence passed over the room and between the young women, the coos of the baby being the only things stopping the room from falling into complete silence.  Finally, Elizabeth spoke, turning to look at Lady Fairfax, “I could write Benjamin for any news on Lieutenant Colonel Laurens if you would like, Miss Fairfax.  It would be no trouble at all.”

Adrienne opened her mouth to reply before closing it with a sigh, “No, it is likely the news has not yet reached the northern campaign.” Elizabeth opened her mouth, no doubt to offer a statement of hope or a plea to at least attempt the contact, but Adrienne waved her off kindly with a tired smile. “There is very little General Washington could do for John, besides make his situation worse.  No,” she brushed invisible dust from her skirts, “I shall go to Charlestown.  As a member of the British Aristocracy, I benefit from accommodation by any of His Majesty’s forces.  And they will be forced to heed to my wishes out of respect for the hierarchy of British society.”

Mrs. Tallmadge placed a concerned hand over Adrienne’s own once more, her brow furrowed in concern, “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“It is the best idea I have got, and the best chance John has got,” she spoke, attempting to sound convincing, to herself as well as Elizabeth, “Even if he will be cross with me for my interference.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips slightly, trying to pull them into a smile as she did so, “Are you sure you do not wish for the General to interfere on your behalf instead?”

“Yes,” Adrienne nodded, forcing out a shaky breath, “Unveiling any further connection between the Lieutenant Colonel and Uncle George will only make easing his situation even harder.  They will make it worse, attempting to dangle him before the General.”

Elizabeth nodded, observing the girl a little closer upon her comment, ‘Uncle George?  That is certainly new.’  

Adrienne looked away from the older woman, down to the baby now sleeping peacefully in her arms.  Adrienne laughed quietly at his little snores, “Would you mind coming with me to put him to bed?  I fear it will wake him if I were to take him.”

Elizabeth nodded and rose slowly, following the shorter blonde out the light blue room’s large entranceway, farther into the house.  She followed Adrienne up an elaborate white staircase, across an upper terrace of a small tiled ballroom, through a paneled door to a less ornate but large room of yellow and green.  The room had a plush alcove bed with two doors on each side of it, several chairs, and a chaise.  There were toys of obvious expense that the baby could not yet hold arranged decoratively on the floor.  Adrienne led her to the bed, instructing her to place the baby atop of it.  She pulled a little lever connected to a wire with her finger and sat on the edge of the bed.  Elizabeth watched as she sang softly to the baby in the bed.

“From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay; From the court to the cottage convey me, away for I am weary of grandeur and what they call gay.  Where pride without measure and pomp without pleasure, make life in a circle of hurry decay.” Adrienne continued to hum the melody softly until the door left of the bed opened and a woman, a servant, stepped out, curtsying to the two ladies.   She rose wordlessly, smiling warmly at the woman as she took a seat in the room before ushering Elizabeth out of the room with her. “I like to have someone watch over him as he sleeps,” she explained to the older woman, “It makes me feel better when I leave him to rest.”

Elizabeth nodded at her, smiling back to Adrienne, “A mother never stops worrying about her child.”

“Are you yourself one?” Adrienne asked politely as they stood in the hall outside the bedroom.

“No, Miss Fairfax,” Elizabeth smiled sadly, “As badly as I wish for a child of my own, my husband wishes to wait till after the war. Though I cannot help but agree with him. I can not imagine how hard it is to be a mother during times like these. And who knows how I would manage.”

Adrienne smiled comfortingly up at the tall woman, “And I have no doubt you will make an excellent one.” She offered her arm to Elizabeth, who looped their arms together as they walked down the hall, turning before reaching the terrace they had crossed originally, slowly strolling down a long and wide hallway with a series of proudly displayed portraits.

Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the walls, recognizing one of them, a very young little girl with blonde hair with a white linen gown and blue silk sash wrapped around her waist.  It was Lady Fairfax, she realized.  Her eyes darted away, noticing another young woman, not as young as Adrienne, but a child nonetheless.  She had wavy brown hair and wore a solid blue dress similar in shade to Adrienne’s own.  There was a plaque underneath the portrait that read “Lady Anne Fairfax 1748-1763.” The girl was only a mere fifteen years old at her passing.

The next portrait that caught her eye was one of a man in a blue and gold silk coat, this was also labeled, “Viscount George William Fairfax 1729-” there was no year of death, and Elizabeth realized he must have been older than the General.  The final portrait that caught her eye was not dressed in blue or white, but pink.  The plaque read “Sarah Walker Fairfax 1719-1754” and Elizabeth paused, jerking Adrienne’s attention to her.  1719, that was a Walker older than her own father.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Tallmadge?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, giving the girl a smile, “I was just admiring this portrait, and the name startled me.”

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed with a large, genuine smile, “That is my grandmother, of Virginia’s original Fairfaxes.  Do not let her poise fool you.  She was born in the Colonies, rather than England.  Was raised in the Caribbean, actually.”

“And born where?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

“Pennsylvania or Maryland, I think,” Adrienne replied, “I am not sure.  Why do you ask?”

“I have seen this portrait before,” Elizabeth spoke, eyes examining the painting, “In the storage of Walker Manor.  Every time I asked about it, my father would simply ignore me.”

“Walker Manor,” Adrienne asked, moving to stand beside the tall blonde, “Do you think she could be related to you in any way?”

“Who were her parents?”

“I do not recall her mother, but her father was a man named John Francis Walker.”

Elizabeth gasped, turning quickly to Adrienne, “That is my uncle!  I have never met him, he has long since passed, but my father has spoken of him several times when complaining about old fixtures around the house. He likes to say he was the one who inherited both the Philadelphia status and the messes that came with it.”

Adrienne’s face lit up as well, not caring about the previous comment by Elizabeth’s father.  She reached out to hold each of Elizabeth’s hands in her own, “That is very exciting, madam, that I could have just met you today only to find out that we are related!”

“Indeed it is!” Elizabeth spoke happily as she laughed at Adrienne’s childish joy. “Though I suppose it is not too surprising. Old Philadelphians may complain about Old Virginians, but we have all found a way to get into each society’s most prominent families.” She turned to face the rest of the hall, eyes scanning portraits until they landed on a pair of paintings, each of a young man in a red and blue military coat.  She walked to them gladly, Adrienne trailing behind her.

“Oh!” Adrienne exclaimed as she realized who the two twin paintings that hung from the walls were. “Those were gifts from Mrs. Mary Ball Washington.  The one on top is Uncle George when he was a Colonel in the British-American Army during the French-Indian war.” She pointed up to it, “And the one below it is his elder brother, Lawrence Washington, a Major in His Majesty’s Army.  I was engaged to him for a short period between the deaths of my sister, Anne, and his own.”

“His elder brother?” the woman asked, astounded, “But the general is approaching fifty years of age if I am correct!”

“Yes,” Adrienne laughed, “There would have been quite the age gap between us.”

“Would a child even be possible in such a match?” Mrs. Tallmadge asked as they continued to walk along, turning from the hall and down a separate set of marble stairs with even mural-sized portraits lining the walls.

“Yes,” Adrienne replied, “But I would have been married far younger.  With Lieutenant Colonel Laurens, I was given the luxury of time, and I am very grateful for it.”

The women descended the stairs, and Adrienne ushered her out the door underneath the staircase that led out to the gardens. “I must collect Martha.  We will return to the party shortly,” she assured Elizabeth, “I have already been absent for too long.  It is unbecoming of a hostess to abandon her guests in such a manner.”

Elizabeth reached out, grabbing Adrienne’s elbow as she turned away from her, causing Adrienne to look back at her as she stood in the doorway. “If you ever should find yourself in need of anything, please, let me know,” she smiled softly, letting her hand fall back to her side.  There was a knowing gleam in her eye, “I have a way of getting things done.”

Adrienne smiled brightly back at her, laughing happily at her statement, then turned around entirely and disappeared down the sunny corridor.

[hindumyththoughts]

Essomenic- Sahadev, and Patration for Arjun, please?

Hi @ambidextrousarcher (I love the new url and header 💙)

Essomenic: showing things as they will be in the future

Sahadev

Sometimes, ignorance is bliss, its veil covers the undesirable, allows the smiles to live on for a little longer. But that luxury was not one bestowed to him in the charity of fate. Unbridled knowledge, lacking any mercy, was an inseparable share of his life now. And if it spared the ones he loved from bearing any more pain, he would choose this fate again and again, for all his lives. To see them smiling together was enough to provide him with newfound resolve. The sight of the entire Indraprastha, thriving and joyful, was the proof that many times, ignorance really was bliss. Never in his dreams he would want to shatter this beautiful, breathtaking sight, their perfect and carefree home.

He loved the sight of Panchaali laughing lightly, he treasured each one of those in his mind. She would often be puzzled by his steady glances, but still humored his behaviour. She and Bhraata Bheem would be sharing an inside joke about Bhraata Arjun, and then instantly dissolved into laughter, tears glistening in their eyes, those ones of pure joy, which he would reverently preserve in his palms, if he could. If he could, he would lock this blessed time within his heart, away from the cruelty of fates. And then his musings would be disturbed, for it would be time for Krishnaa to feed the needfuls that they welcomed as their guests, before the royal family accepted any meals for themselves. No one left her presence with any want in their hearts. No one ever will.

Their beloved Abhimanyu used to run around all of them, trying to hide from his mothers, and more often than not, he would hide his nephew in his arms. A master in evasion, he passed through the rooms as a breeze, slipping through their hands. Whenever he got a hold of his little nephew, he would show a toothy, guilty smile, one which made him weak. And the little menace knew that. The only words he could manage to whisper, inaudible to their little prince, were a request and a blessing, "may the valorous Saubhadra always remain elusive to the ones who wished him ruin, untouched from the malicious clutches of the vengeful".

Nakul used to laugh, because he would sometimes spend his free hours under the guidance of the royal herder, learning about how to attend to the large population of cattle under the ownership of the palace and how best to provide for their welfare. His twin would tremble with humorous chuckles and tease him about the absolute uselessness of this kind of knowledge for a Kshatriya prince, joking about the times when the advisor of the Samrat will have the absolute need to milk a cow. When he retorted back, about how Nakul himself was spending a bit much time in the stables, he would defend himself by explaining that a prince should have mastery in the art of horse riding, a skill too useful for a warrior. His mind reflected on the cruelty of fate, for this interest would certainly be of service to his twin, in the future that stormed nearer. He himself encouraged his brother to hone this skill of his but, on the outside, he would pout a little in return, tell him off or threaten to tell Bhraatashree about his unmannerly teasing, and their childish squabbles would continue. He relished every moment of it, he loved when Nakul complained about petty matters, because it meant that he was happy, he was comfortable, that he was still optimistic...

He buried back the immense remorse in his heart, whenever the king played a harmless game of dice, only a mere diversion from the daily duties. His family tried to distract him from his habit, but only a halfhearted attempt. When invited for a round, he would try to lead the king's mind away from that weakness of his. "Any riches of the world would turn to dirt if obtained through a mode so neglectful." he used to advise respectfully, "Only a coward would attempt to seize anything precious and worthwhile from behind the shelter of a game so trivial" always countered the Samrat, his belief immovable in all Kshatriyas always adhering to their morals. So their game would continue, and he would try to prevent his mind from wondering mirthlessly about how it would feel to be in the place of one of those bags of gold, a general possession, only on display to be gambled away...

Patration: perfection or completion of something

Arjun

Draw the string of the bow, and lose it again. The routine may feel mechanical, soulless to anyone on the sidelines, but it feels like a prayer to the one practicing. The whistling arrows are singing the hymns in his stead, the blood drawn from his hands is the sacrifice to the holy fire, every arrow finding it's mark is one cycle of chanting complete. There is no one else present in that world in which the devotee Paarth worships his gods, the bow and arrow. The center of the target beckons to him as his moksha, and as certain as an ancient sage meditating for centuries, he attains it.

His was the aim to master the art of archery, and thus Savyasachi was born into the world, the one who wields the flame-blessed Gandiva with dexterity of both his hands; the Gudakesha who lords above the constraints of sleep. His was the aim to raise Indraprastha as a part of the heavens, and so Dhananjaya was brought into existence, the winner of absolute wealths in the four directions and all the three worlds, the very one called Kiriti who graced the crown gifted by Devendra.

His was the aim to become stronger for retribution, for their tears and their scars. And for that wish, born was the warrior Jishnu, the unsurpassed, uncontrollable one who subdued his opponents, the Vijaya who defeated all in the fields of war, the one who was blessed with the feared Pashupatastra by Mahadeva. In his name-fellow Krishna's words, he was the Parantapa who scorched his enemies. But, even then he didn't relinquish the title of Vibhatsu, whether referring to the honorable one or the one who incited terror in the hearts of his foes, all the difference lied in the eyes of his beholder.

His was the aim to finish their Agyatavas successfully, so came Brihannala into creation, for achieving that target. Each movement of the teacher who taught Matsya's princess was a precise and well-crafted one, never spurred in a moment; each gesture sharper than the finest of blades, the disciplined motions preconceived even before the melodies flowed into the air, leaving the spectator entranced beyond mere words. The gracefulness mesmerized all before they could grow any suspicions. The princess adored her mentor and the prince realized all too late why he was so affected by the sways of that dancer, flaring like the fierceness of the one who was perfected by the heat of wars. When the prince was finally blessed with knowledge about their guests, it all became too clear.

All these thoughts flashed by Uttar's mind in mere moments. In his eyes, the Arjun whose charioteer he had the honour of becoming was the essence of excellence, the flawless, pure white one, the white horses of Shvetavahana's chariot being very fitting for his stature. He was standing in the presence of perfection itself and so multitudes of feelings were storming inside his mind, all names of Phalguna falling short in describing his greatness. Maybe it was his incredulous countenance, or the awe in his eyes that Arjun noticed, for he smiled at the young prince- a knowing smile. "I am just a man who wants to protect my loved ones, don't you want to protect princess Uttara, your parents and your kingdom too, Prince?" He asked good-naturedly and received a nod in reply. With kind eyes came the explanation, "So there you go, we are both not so different then. We both have somethings we cherish and want to protect, and if there are obstacles in the path we have chosen, then?" "We will best them and forge ahead?" answered the young prince hesitantly. "Exactly," encouraged Arjun "what we seek is not perfection but fulfillment of our aims, our wishes. We desire the bird's eye only, so we only follow the path that leads to it, unwaveringly, and the perfection of piercing through that target will follow in our steps as a result". Uttar smiled in response, with the resolve that one day he would surely justify the words that Arjun has said to him. That one day, he would proudly declare to the world that he and The Archer were the ideal warriors of one kind..

[whizsolutions]

Top Android App Development SDKs, Libraries, and Frameworks to Use in 2021

Google came up with Android in 2007 for the first time and since then it has made our life easier. Many industries like the mobile phone industry have bloomed cause of this and continue doing so. Android has just not got into phones but also, tv, watches, and whatnot.

An Android app development company will always think about how to make an app that incorporates all the customer’s expectations. In addition, there is also the responsibility to see if the app runs smoothly without any lag. So, to help the android developers with these complexities, there are some SDKs, frameworks and libraries that is the most effective till now.

If you are an android developer yourself or are searching for one to aid your business, this list of tools will give you some idea.

Ionic

With this framework, you can develop apps that will be compatible with iOS, Windows and Android. This ionic framework is available free of cost and also gives high mobile performance. It has so many features that its library amazes the developers. Moreover, to code in this framework, you only need to have a basic knowledge of HTML, CSS or JavaScript.

In addition to ionic, you can also use many UI elements while building the application and also use the necessary tab bars to create responsive applications. This tool is a boon to users and developers as it is user friendly and effortless o learn.

Dagger

Dagger is the best dependency injection tool as it is a compile-time framework and thus creates simple java source code. So, what is dependency injection? It is useful to easily inject small components into the larger model. It is better than other dependency injection libraries cause it works in compile-time which allows it to analyze and estimate dependencies.

Moreover, the other dependency injection libraries are limited & depend on XML to function, thus Dagger turns to be the best. Google maintains this tool now, but originally Square created the earlier version of Dagger and this is its adaptation. This is not a user-friendly tool, in fact, a bit difficult to learn, but your learning time will be worth its performance. So, if you are not a pro, hire Android app developer to get your expected work done.

Retrofit

This is a safe and essential HTTP client for working in Java and Android. This one is easy and great for beginners as you can run popular serialization libraries through this. You can define your program’s REST API here as similar to an interface. You need to use annotations to handle API requests body, headers, query parameters, etc.

As we mentioned already, it is simple and user-friendly, and even you can make asynchronous and synchronous API calls here. Also, if you are finding problems in fetching data with HttpsUrlConnection due to its small data capacity, try this Retrofit. This one works very well with RxJava as it already possesses an Rx module of its own.

Glide

It is one of the best libraries with a great memory as it can find out, decode and play videos. When you are finding it difficult to handle images in Android for the image handling API can be strenuous. Use this as the API can crash your app when you go for altering your images.

So, if your goal is to load images or to manage any media, this app is the best in 2021. Any Android app development services company will prefer using this one because of its speed. Moreover, it is an open-source library and while Google recommends it, Bumptech manages it.

Xamarin

You will be able to create a native and modern application in this framework for operating systems like iOS, Android and Windows. Xamarin is very popular among developers as this makes their work easy, and you must try this one. One programming language is enough to work perfectly with Xamarin as it works jointly with a C# code that is supported by any platform.

Also, if you like sharing and testing your code and also want to check its performance through visual studio, look no further. This Xamarin framework can solve all your miseries and it possesses a backend API component too.

Kotlin and Android SDK

This is also one from the bag of developer’s favourites, but semicolons at the end of lines are essential here. If you don’t like to write numerous Java code lines, switch to this for this requires much less boilerplate code. The language of Kotlin and Android SDK is understandable and easy to learn.

So, people prefer this while doing large projects, but Kotlin is only used for developing android applications. Big companies like Uber, Google and Pinterest prefer using it for its attractive features. Its features also include compatibility with Java, less coding, being easily adaptable and no runtime overhead.

Flutter

It is quite new in the field of cross-platform SDKs as it just came in 2017. It works a bit differently than others, But the language it uses is not that new, that is Dart. Dart is there in the programming world for a long time and is a bit matured. This language has many features like higher-order functions, null safety and extension methods.

The language is modern and typesafe and also enable you to create a UI for your users. With Flutter, you can be sure of lag less run in any platform as they are also working to have a position in the desktop platform.

React Native

It is one of the best cross-platform SDKs for building apps for phones. This one is an open-source JavaScript library and helps the developers to build outstanding apps in less than usual time. Facebook developed React Native and it works perfectly fine on any device. Also, it uses JSX, because of which a huge number of JavaScript developers swear by it. These are some of the best SDKs, libraries and frameworks of 2021, though there are more. Visit our website if you need more help on app development, from one of the best Android application development solutions.

[pai-daxing]

Share some sorted HTTP status codes and detailed explanations

table of Contents

1xx (temporary response) represents a status code that temporarily responds and requires the requester to continue the operation. 2xx (success) indicates the status code of the request successfully processed. 3xx (redirect) indicates that further action is required to complete the request. Usually, these status codes are used for redirection. 4xx (Request error) These status codes indicate that the request may have gone wrong, preventing the server from processing. 5xx (Server Error) These status codes indicate that an internal error occurred when the server was trying to process the request. These errors may be errors in the server itself, rather than request errors.

1xx (temporary response) represents a status code that temporarily responds and requires the requester to continue the operation. 100 (Continue) The requester should continue to make the request. The server returns this code to indicate that it has received the first part of the request and is waiting for the rest.

101 (Switching protocol) The requester has asked the server to switch the protocol, and the server has confirmed and is ready to switch.

2xx (success) indicates the status code of the request successfully processed. 200 (Success) The server has successfully processed the request. Usually, this means that the server provided the requested page.

201 (Created) The request was successful and the server created a new resource.

202 (Accepted) The server has accepted the request, but has not yet processed it.

203 (Non-authorized information) The server has successfully processed the request, but the returned information may come from another source.

204 (No content) The server successfully processed the request, but did not return any content.

205 (Reset content) The server successfully processed the request, but did not return any content.

206 (Partial content) The server successfully processed some GET requests.

3xx (redirect) indicates that further action is required to complete the request. Usually, these status codes are used for redirection. 300 (multiple choices) In response to requests, the server can perform multiple operations. The server can select an operation based on the requester (user agent), or provide a list of operations for the requester to choose.

301 (Moved Permanently) The requested page has been permanently moved to a new location. When the server returns this response (a response to a GET or HEAD request), it will automatically redirect the requester to the new location.

302 (Temporary move) The server currently responds to requests from web pages in different locations, but the requester should continue to use the original location for future requests.

303 (View other locations) The server returns this code when the requester should use separate GET requests for different locations to retrieve the response.

304 (Unmodified) Since the last request, the requested page has not been modified. When the server returns this response, the content of the web page will not be returned.

305 (Use proxy) The requester can only use the proxy to access the requested web page. If the server returns this response, it also indicates that the requester should use a proxy.

307 (Temporary Redirect) The server currently responds to requests from web pages in different locations, but the requester should continue to use the original location for future requests.

4xx (Request error) These status codes indicate that the request may have gone wrong, preventing the server from processing. 400 (Bad request) The server does not understand the syntax of the request.

401 (Unauthorized) The request requires authentication. For web pages that require login, the server may return this response.

403 (Forbidden) The server rejected the request.

404 (Not Found) The server could not find the requested page.

405 (Method Disable) Disable the method specified in the request.

406 (Not accepted) Unable to respond to the requested page with the requested content characteristics.

407 (Proxy authorization required) This status code is similar to 401 (Unauthorized), but specifies that the requester should be authorized to use the proxy. 408 (Request timeout) The server timed out while waiting for the request.

409 (Conflict) The server encountered a conflict while fulfilling the request. The server must include information about the conflict in the response.

410 (Deleted) If the requested resource has been permanently deleted, the server will return this response.

411 (Valid length required) The server does not accept requests without a valid content length header field.

412 (Precondition not met) The server did not meet one of the preconditions set by the requester in the request.

413 (Request entity is too large) The server cannot process the request because the request entity is too large and exceeds the server's processing capacity.

414 (The requested URI is too long) The requested URI (usually a URL) is too long for the server to process.

415 (Unsupported media type) The requested format is not supported by the requested page.

416 (The requested range does not meet the requirements) If the page cannot provide the requested range, the server will return this status code.

417 (Expected value not met) The server did not meet the requirements of the "expected" request header field.

5xx (Server Error) These status codes indicate that an internal error occurred when the server was trying to process the request. These errors may be errors in the server itself, rather than request errors. 500 (Internal Server Error) The server encountered an error and could not complete the request.

501 (Not yet implemented) The server does not have the function to complete the request. For example, the server may return this code when the request method is not recognized.

502 (Bad Gateway) The server was acting as a gateway or proxy and received an invalid response from the upstream server.

503 (Service unavailable) The server is currently unavailable (due to overload or maintenance shutdown). Usually, this is only a temporary state.

504 (Gateway timeout) The server was acting as a gateway or proxy, but did not receive a request from the upstream server in time.

505 (HTTP version is not supported) The server does not support the HTTP protocol version used in the request.

For more information, refer to the blog:https://blog.csdn.net/qq_44273429/article/details/109840532

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 9/18 Word count: 1983 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the blog header!

Chapter 9

Having never had it taken away from him in such a significant way until he was a fully grown adult, Tobirama never realized that freedom had its own disadvantages. Now he found himself standing at the gates of the Uchiha compound with his arms crossed tightly against his chest and all too aware that he wouldn’t be half as torn as he was at the moment if he didn’t have the power to do something about it. Watching Madara and Izuna’s backs as they disappeared in to the trees wasn’t the hard part; the hard part was knowing who they had been called in to battle with.

Knowing it was the Senju advancing against their eastern border left him off-balance, unsure of how to feel. It was they who had cast him out after a lifetime of love and devoted service. Should he turn his back and hate them now, stop caring for their lives simply because they had stopped caring for his? Logic told him he should be allowed to do just that.

And yet…

The very thought of Hashirama getting wounded still broke a part of him he had thought couldn’t break anymore. Thinking about any of his second and third cousins perishing in battle, about Touka giving her life in protection of the clan she loved so deeply, he couldn’t deny that he still cared for them all. No matter that he wished he didn’t, he would probably still care for them even if they had chosen to run a blade across his throat as he had once begged Madara to do. It wasn’t as if he could simply turn off his heart whenever it pleased him.

Should he have tried to stop the brothers from going, then? Asked them not to face the Senju in battle? Without Madara and Izuna on the field the Uchiha would drop like flies. There was no one else who could hope to face Hashirama and survive but how many Senju lives would be traded for how many Uchiha if they did or didn’t go? It was like an impossible math equation with no right answer and Tobirama had always hated questions that had no answers.

He almost felt like he should be there himself except he wasn’t at all sure what he would end up doing. Could he face his own brother in battle? Or his cousin? Yet to not take action would be just as terrible. To stand to one side and watch someone he cared for cut down someone else he cared for, no matter what crest they wore on their armor, he wouldn’t survive it.

Conflict raged back and forth inside him for hours until finally Madara and Izuna returned with the rest, dirty and tired, some of them bearing injuries but with no fewer clansmen than when they left. Tobirama didn’t stop to think. The two brothers had barely set foot in the house they all shared when he crashed in to them and pulled Madara in to his arms, holding on more tightly than he could ever remember doing in his life. His breath hitched when Madara gripped him back just as tightly.

“Are they–?”

“No deaths on either side,” the other murmured in his ear. He felt suddenly weightless without the leaden feeling that had been pulling at his stomach the whole damn day.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you.” A quiet noise of confusion escaped him but he leaned back gratefully for a moment when Izuna joined their embrace as well from behind, sandwiching him in the middle. It was hard to tell what he was supposed to be feeling in this moment but all he could focus on was how grateful he was that everyone was alive and well.

Madara pressed his forehead in to Tobirama’s hair, speaking very quietly. “Don’t ever apologize. Everything’s alright, Tobirama. We’re fine; they’re fine; no one got seriously injured.”

“I shouldn’t care.”

“Should or shouldn’t, you do. And that’s not something you need to apologize for.”

“Take him to sit down or something,” Izuna said, breaking away. “I’ll bring a pot of tea.”

Madara led him to the couch and tried to make him sit down but Tobirama insisted on helping him out of his armor first. When Izuna returned they both helped him as well to unstrap the minimal plate armor typical of Uchiha battle garb. Tobirama fretted internally over how they were leaving themselves too exposed and started planning arguments in his head for how he could convince them to wear something more protective until he was dragged down on to the couch at last and pressed firmly in between his two companions.

“How is this the first time that it’s hitting me?” Tobirama grumbled. Some genius he was letting his mind forget about something so big as the fact that his new benefactors were still at war with his old family.

“The Senju have been strangely quiet for a while now,” Madara told him slowly. “I think this is the first time we’ve faced them on such a large scale since we took you out of the dark. Until now it’s been mostly border skirmishes and chance meetings in other territories but no big clashes.”

“Quiet isn’t really how I would put it though,” Izuna chipped in. Madara nodded.

“I guess, yeah. They’ve been sighted absolutely everywhere but they’re not picking any fights. It’s eerie.”

Tobirama frowned and turned that over in his mind, looking at the information from all angles. It felt as though it should have been significant somehow but without any other information he was at a loss for how to interpret it properly.

After sipping his way through several cups of tea he settled down against Madara’s side in a mirror of how the older man usually treated him like a human sized pillow. He squirmed deeper in to the arm that wrapped around his back and closed his eyes to revel in the feeling of having precious ones close, appreciating it like he hadn’t before. Not all of the people he still considered precious were here but they were all confirmed as alive and for now that was enough. He trusted Madara not to have lied about that.

“Look at you cuddling,” Izuna teased, pushing on his arm to press him deeper in to Madara’s embrace. Tobirama huffed.

“I can cuddle if I want to.”

“Yeah, no one but Mads though. Unless you want to come over here and put your head in my lap?”

“Don’t be disgusting.” Turning his face in to the chest holding him up, he hoped the tips of his ears weren’t turning pink.

Although he would have to admit that Izuna was a little bit right. He did have a preference for Madara’s affection over anyone else but really his social circle wasn’t exactly large among the Uchiha yet so he figured it didn’t say all that much. Of the several who were friendly with him now he was still only quite close to these two and some of the children who had been shyly requesting his tutelage lately.

Tobirama stayed in his curled position for so long he had begun slowly drifting in and out, only half listening to the conversation still going on above his head, when he felt Madara’s fingers begin to absently trace up and down his arm. It should be illegal, he decided. No one should have the power to make him feel so safe and comfortable in a world so full of danger and hurt. It made him never want to sleep on his own again and he recognized that as a stupid thought even as it entered his head.

“Does he snore? Is he gonna start snoring?” Izuna sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Hush. No, he doesn’t snore.”

“You would know.”

“Shhh! Keep your mouth shut! What if he hears us in his sleep or something!?”

Madara’s whisper yelling almost made him smile but Tobirama found himself too interested to hear what they were talking about to interrupt them with a clean sign that he was still awake. Although he certainly was close enough to sleep that he felt ready to snore whether or not it was a usual habit.

“If he hears you in his sleep then he’ll just chalk it up to a dream, no worries Aniki.”

“Just keep quiet, alright? Quit it.”

“Oh come on. Everyone knows except him.”

An offended huff ruffled the top of his head. “None of you should be discussing this behind my back. It’s no one’s business but mine. And his. No, not his, I don’t want him to know yet!”

“Well good news for you, I don’t think he’s going to figure it out unless you dance naked in front of him with a banner that says ‘I have a massive dorky crush on you!’” Izuna laughed to himself, muffling the sound behind what sounded like a pillow, and it was all Tobirama could do not react. Staying still was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life as Madara whined piteously above him.

“I don’t want him to figure it out! The last thing he needs is to think I’m trying to trick him in to staying here or something.” Izuna’s laughter faded awhile while Madara continued. “He’s gone through a lot and he’s still dealing with it. Now isn’t the time to be adding something like this on his shoulders – especially since he clearly doesn’t feel the same.”

“Clearly, huh? I would say differently.”

“You would say wrong.”

“Says you. Haven’t you noticed how much closer he is to you than me?”

Madara’s body jerked as the arm around Tobirama lifted away for a moment, followed by the sound of Izuna getting the back of his head swatted.

“End of discussion.” Madara declared sternly. He returned his arm to where it had been, holding just a little bit tighter.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. But let the record show that I think the smartest thing to do would be to tell him how you feel now so he can come to terms with his own feelings too and you can both live happily ever after.”

“Ugh. Don’t be such a sap.”

No answer came but after a minute Izuna got up and left the room, probably heading to bed. Left alone, Madara returned to stroking Tobirama’s hair in silence for a while, seemingly content to remain where he was for the foreseeable future. Eventually he did move but it was only to gently maneuver them both a little deeper in to the corner of the couch so that Tobirama could rest against his chest and he could snuggle his own head back against the cushions, ostensibly making himself comfortable for the night.

Tobirama remained silent and still until Madara’s breathing evened out and only then did he gently lift his head to stare up at the man who had taken him in and given him everything he thought he would never have again.

Apparently Madara had feelings for him. What he was supposed to do with that knowledge was something he would need more than one evening to figure out. Dating and romance had never been his forte. It hadn’t been on his mind in quite some time even before his exile and he certainly hadn’t expected to encounter those things here.

It could all wait for another night, he decided. Knowing he was dooming himself to a good round of teasing in the morning – and a little bit of extra confusion for his own heart – Tobirama laid his head back down and closed his eyes to enjoy the warmth of the embrace so freely given. Whatever complications may come from this revelation, here in Madara’s arms was still the safest place he had been in a very long time.

[supersecure-blog]

Week 6 Lectures

Never would I have thought that I would receive a lecture via a skype call... however this course continues to surprise me. Notes for this week’s lectures as per usual :) This week notes will be in their purest form: brain dribble.

Morning Lecture

WEP:

Needed a 64 bit key, but how do we get users to generate a 64 bit key. Was a lot to ask users to generate. Designers decided to generate the last 24 bits by themselves, using an IV.

Seed was different for each packet, 40 bit key that was shared and everyone used, and then the 24 bit value that was generated. 

To decrypt, you get the 24 bit thing sent in the clear - (IV) and combine with the secret to get the 64 bit 

Danger when someone transmits the same data under the same key - data is replicated in the same frame

Collision for IV - square root of 2^24  = 2^12 ~= 4000

Relatively small amount of packets needed to be sent before collision

Mixing data and control (key characteristic of attacks):

WEP attack - carrying out the normal function, can be abused by users to gain more control

I.e. Richard smuggling expensive express envelopes by hiding them in a satchel, posting them to himself 

If there is a potential ambiguity in the channel and you are able to control how that is resolved - you gain control of the channel

Buffer Overflow:

Computer rapidly switches between jobs - “context switching” rather than concurrencyModern cpu’s use the notion of interruption Stack keeps track of what is being used

Latest process - top of the stack. When it’s finished, the information about the process gets thrown out, stack pointer gets moved down

After process have been re-awakened, need information about what the process is currently doing. This is stored in the disk, because RAM is expensive

Stack is also used to store local data about the program - much faster 

Running program data is in the stack, as well as other frozen processes

Stack is stored backwards -> grows down

If can persuade the  buffer you are writing to is bigger than it is - then you can be writing to other memory of the person that is asleep

Pointer to the next instruction about to be executed -> control

Contains other information

Write to the return address, overwrite the current thing

Proof of work:

Bitcoin - can’t counterfeit easily (work ratio)

No matter how good something is, every 18 months your attacker gains 1 bit of work due to Moore’s law i.e. lose one bit of security

Number of transistors per square inch on integrated circuits had doubled every year since the integrated circuit was invented. 

Disk encryption:

Thread model - attacker has physical access to the disk, assume full control of the hard drive 

Generate random key, encrypted version of the key stored in the disk

Evening Lecture:

Web Seminar

HTTP:

Application layer protocol used to send messages between browsers and web servers. HTTP requests go from the browser to the server. 

Databases / SQL - browser sending an HTTP get request from the server with the username and password as data

Server queries database with “SELECT password FROM users WHERE match”

HTTP Cookies/Sessions

An HTTP cookie is a small piece of data sent in a response from a web server and stored on the user’s computer by the browser

A session cookies is a unique ID generated by the server and sent to the user when they first connect or login

Browser sends it with all HTTP requests

XSS - cross-site scripting is an attack in which an attacker injects data, such as a malicious program

Reflected XSS - occurs when user input is immediately returned by a web application. 

Stored - you enter data which is stored within the application and then returned later

xss.game.appstop.com

SQL injection is a code injection technique in which malicious SQL statements are inserted into an entry field for execution.

Goal behind an SQL query is to gain access

‘ or 1 == 1 --

Blind SQL injections are identical to normal SQL Injection except that when an attacker attempts to exploit an application rather than getting a useful error message

Cross Site Request Forgery:

Attack on an authenticated user i,.e. Already logged in

When you log in to a website it sends you a cookie to your browser to keep you logged in.

Bank attack:

If attacker knows the format of the bank request, they can hide a transfer request inside an img using html

Cross Site Request Forgery Defences:

Primary mitigation is with tokens

Generate a suitably random token, store value server-side

Sent token to user, expect this token back as part of any user requests

In a GET request, this token will be appended to the URL

If a website has XSS vulnerabilities, CSRF mitigations are pointless

Crypto Seminar

Payment Process: Current versus Bitcoin:

Current payment systems require third-party intermediaries that often charge high processing fees

Machine-to-machine payment using the Bitcoin protocol allows for direct payment between individuals, as well as support micropayments -> reduce transaction costs

Crypto:

Built using cryptographic principles i.e. blockchain and hashing

Difficult to fake transactions - too many bits so it isn’t worth

Blockchain:

Method of storing data

A chain of chronologically linked blocks where each block is linked to the previous block

Blocks are unique - no two blocks will have the same hash

Data:

Consists of hundreds of transactions

Put around 2000 transactions in one block

Hashes:

Block’s  hash summarises the data into a combination of letters and numbers

SHA-256 hashing algorithm

If a transaction in the block is changed, the hash is changed

This is important because each block has the hash of the previous block -> need to check against all previous blocks

Tamper evident

When a transaction is mine, it isn’t immediately added but placed in a transaction pool

The miner gathers enough to form a block - called a candidate block

Hash the block header along with a nonce

When we hash we hope the block hash value is below a certain target value

The nonce is a random number brute forced by miners to try and create the correct hash

When nonce is found, it is broadcast and the block is added to the existing chain

Proof of Stake:

Growth of mining pools could eventually lead back to a centralised system

PoW mining uses excessive amounts of electricity

PoS algorithm attributes mining power to proportion of total bitcoins held, rather than computing power

Rewards are transaction fees rather than new cryptocurrency

Types of crypto currencies:

Bitcoin 

Uses the SHA-256 algorithm - very processor intensive and complex requires lots of dedicated hardware

Litecoin

More accessible for normal uses to mine on their CPUs as the algorithm used is less CPU intensive, but more memory intensive

Facebook Libra

Centralised architecture - libra will be managed by the Libra Association, having more control over the blockchain

There is no ‘mining” - to set up a node on Libra, need $10000

Privacy:

Blockchain doesn’t have a strong concept of identity (public, private) key pairing

Doesn’t exempt transaction from tracing

Two main ways:

Relations between address - inferring identity

Interactions between nodes and users

Monero:

Unlinkability -> stealth addresses with view keys

Transaction mixing -> ring signatures

Concealing transaction amounts -> RingCt signatures

Historical flaws:

51% attack: 

Double-spend

Purpose might also be to discredit a crypto instead of money

Credibility decided on the majority

Off-springs created one’s solution for a hash is not added into their own spin-off

Motive might be to discredit the cryptocurrency

Past Attacks:

Usually happened on small networks

Verge 51% attack, on April 2018

Groups of hackers found two main flaws in the system:

Bug which lowered the hashing difficulty for a hashing algo (Scrypt)

Verge allowed 5 different hashing algorithms, and only the difficulty for Scrypt is lowered

Hacked 3 times over 2 weeks

Cryptocurrency exchanges:

Mt.Gox - bitcoin exchange that was launched in 2010. Handled over 70% of all Bitcoin transactions in 2013

Previous owner retained admin level user account when MtGox was sold in 2011

Attacker logged in to the account

Assigned himself a large number of BTC which he sold on the exchange

Price dropped immediately

Obtained private keys of MtGox clients

Created selling orders on these accounts and bought the BTC he stole 

SQL Injection vulnerability was found

MtGox user database began circulating online and included:

Plain text email addresses

Usernames

MD5 Hashed passwords, with some unsalted

Future of Cryptocurrency:

Adoption

Overcoming resistance from:

People

Established finance institutes (eg banks)

Governments (they don’t like that you don’t pay tax by concurrency)

Ease of use

Volatility

Threats

Blockchain its laek

Quantum computers

To the sft that utilises cryptocurrency

Cryptocurrency wallet/exchange/

Strong private keys

Symmetric Ciphers

Two sorts of ciphers, symmetric and asymmetric -> regards the keys

If you know the key

For a symmetric: you can decrypt and encrypt

For an asymmetric: you have separate private and public keys to decrypt and encrypt (RSA)

Earthquakes:

How would I cope, how would my business cope? -> ‘gobag’

Home Study - read up about the “block modes” - only need to learn/understand ECB, CBC, CTR

Authentication:

Identifying for who? Computer/human?

Facebook. Police, baggage screening

Authentication and identification - what is the difference?

What decisions?

Computerised authentication system -> needs to make a decision about whether it is you or not

Factors:

Something that you have

Something that you know - i.e a password. Easy way of doing authentication

How do you know that you share the same secret?

Something that you are - Unfakeable 

Two factor authentication:

Something that you have AND something that you know i.e. and password

All of these things seem different, but ultimately they are all just things that you know, and are all secrets

Something that you are can be replicated

Serious problem -> authenticating bombs, missiles etc

Biometrics - not real authentication, collecting another shared secret from a person, and can be bypassed

[thezocker]

Something new appeared into the multiverse of Undertale! And their name is Error402!

The abilities/hax of Error402:

Blue screen of death

Access denied: This error occurs if the user doesn't have privileges to a file, or if it has been locked by some program or user.

607 Unwanted: The called party did not want this call from the calling party. Future attempts from the calling party are likely to be similarly rejected.

606 Not Acceptable: The user's agent was contacted successfully but some aspects of the session description such as the requested media, addressing style were not acceptable.

604 Does Not Exist Anywhere: The server has authoritative information that the requested user does not exist anywhere.

599 Network Connect Timeout Error.

598 Network read timeout error.

561 Unauthorised: An error around authentication returned by a server registered with a load balancer. You configured a listener rule to authenticate users, but the identity provider (IdP) returned an error code when authenticating the user.

530 Site is frozen.

529 Site is overloaded.

524 A Timeout Occurred.

523 Origin Is Unreachable.

522 Connection Timed Out.

511 Network Authentication Require.

510 Not Extended: Further extensions to the request are required for the server to fulfil it.

508 Loop Detected: The server detected an infinite loop while processing the request.

503 Service Unavailable.

501 Not Implemented:The server either does not recognize the request method, or it lacks the ability to fulfil the request.

500 Internal Server Error: A generic error message, given when an unexpected condition was encountered and no more specific message is suitable.

499 Client Closed Request Used when the client has closed the request before the server could send a response.

488 Not Acceptable: Here Some aspect of the session description is not acceptable.

487 Request Terminated: Request has terminated by bye or cancel.

481 Call/Transaction Does Not Exist: Server received a request that does not match any dialog or transaction.

480 Temporarily Unavailable: Callee currently unavailable.

470 Consent Needed: The source of the request did not have the permission of the recipient to make such a request.

451 Unavailable For Legal Reasons.

450 Blocked by Windows Parental Controls

449 Retry With.

444 No Response

440 Login Time-out The client's session has expired and must log in again.

433 Anonymity Disallowed: The request has been rejected because it was anonymous.

431 Request Header Fields Too Large: The server is unwilling to process the request because either an individual header field, or all the header fields collectively, are too large.

430 Flow Failed: A specific flow to a user agent has failed, although other flows may succeed. This response is intended for use between proxy devices, and should not be seen by an endpoint (and if it is seen by one, should be treated as a 400 Bad Request response).

429 Too Many Requests: The user has sent too many requests in a given amount of time. Intended for use with rate-limiting schemes.

424 Failed Dependency: The request failed because it depended on another request and that request failed.

423 Locked: The resource that is being accessed is locked.

422 Unprocessable Entity: The request was well-formed but was unable to be followed due to semantic errors.

421 Misdirected Request:The request was directed at a server that is not able to produce a response.

417 Expectation Failed:The server cannot meet the requirements of the Expect request-header field.

410 Gone: Indicates that the resource requested was previously in use but is no longer available and will not be available again.

409 Conflict: Indicates that the request could not be processed because of conflict in the current state of the resource, such as an edit conflict between multiple simultaneous updates.

408 Request Timeout.

407 Proxy Authentication Required: The client must first authenticate itself with the proxy.

406 Not Acceptable.

405 Method Not Allowed.

404 Not Found The requested resource could not be found but may be available in the future. Subsequent requests by the client are permissible.

403 Forbidden: The request contained valid data and was understood by the server, but the server is refusing action.

402 Payment Required. Error402 blocked your access to do anything in order to attack and even leave you need to pay him.

401 Unauthorised.

400 Bad Request:The server cannot or will not process the request due to an apparent client error.

301 Moved Permanently.

299 Miscellaneous Persistent Warning Same as 199, but indicating a persistent warning.

204 No Content.

203 Non-Authoritative Information.

202 Accepted: The request has been accepted for processing, but the processing has not been completed. The request might or might not be eventually acted upon, and may be disallowed when processing occurs.

201 Created The request has been fulfilled, resulting in the creation of a new resource.

199 Miscellaneous Warning: Arbitrary, non-specific warning. The warning text may be logged or presented to the user.

113 Heuristic Expiration:The cache heuristically chose a freshness lifetime greater than 24 hours and the response's age is greater than 24 hours.

112 Disconnected Operation:The cache is intentionally disconnected from the rest of the network.

111 Revalidation Failed: The cache was unable to validate the response, due to an inability to reach the origin server.

110 Response is Stale: The response provided by a cache is stale.

100 Trying: Extended search being performed may take a significant time so a forking proxy must send a 100 Trying response.

[bitmex-official]

Using the BitMEX REST API Specification and Clients Authentication Limits Request Rate Limits Viewing Your Request Rate Limit Increasing Your Request Rate Limit Order Count Limits Order Minimum Size Limits WebSocket Limits Behaviour Efficiency HTTP Keep-Alive Overload Filtering Timestamp Filters OrderBookL2 Using the BitMEX REST API For working code and examples, please see our HTTP Connectors on GitHub. If you are logged in, you may access the API Key Management interface. For a list of endpoints and return types, view the REST documentation in the API Explorer. Specification and Clients The BitMEX API conforms to the Swagger spec for REST endpoints. Any Swagger-compatible client can connect to the BitMEX API and execute commands. An updated list of available clients is listed here. Examples of basic communication to our API are in our api-connectors repository. Note that all Bitcoin quantities are returned in Satoshis: 1 XBt (Satoshi) = 0.00000001 XBT (Bitcoin). Authentication To access private endpoints, a permanent API key is required. Details about authentication via API Key are available via a separate document. Limits Request Rate Limits Requests to our REST API are rate limited to 300 requests per 5 minutes. This counter refills continuously. If you are not logged in, your ratelimit is 150/5minutes. Be very careful about the number of errors your tools throw! If a large number of 4xx or 5xx responses are delivered in a short period of time, your IP may be banned for an hour. Multiple bans in a short time will result in a week ban. Viewing Your Request Rate Limit On each request to the API, these headers are returned: "x-ratelimit-limit": 300 "x-ratelimit-remaining": 297 "x-ratelimit-reset": 1489791662 Use these headers to determine your current limit and remaining requests. At the UNIX timestamp designated by x-ratelimit-reset, you will have enough requests left to retry your current request. If you have not exceeded your limit, this value is always the current timestamp. If you are limited, you will receive a 429 response and an additional header, Retry-After, that indicates the number of seconds you should sleep before retrying. Increasing Your Request Rate Limit If you are running up against our limits and believe that you have a legitimate need, please email us at support@bitmex.com to discuss upgrading your access limits. Before increasing your rate limits, we require that your programs at least: Use the WebSocket feeds to avoid polling data. Use our bulk order, bulk amend, and bulk cancel features to reduce load on the system. Due to how BitMEX does real-time auditing, risk checks, and margining, orders submitted, amended, and canceled in bulk are faster to execute. For this reason, bulk actions are ratelimited at 1/10 the normal rate! Bulk cancels, regardless of count, always only count as one request. When emailing us about a ratelimit increase, please include: Your application’s purpose and intended growth Your desired rate limit Acknowledgement that your program is using the API efficiently, as mentioned above. Order Count Limits To keep an orderly market, BitMEX imposes limits on the number of open orders per account. These limits are: Maximum 200 open orders per contract per account; Maximum 10 stop orders per contract per account; When placing a new order that causes these caps to be exceeded, it will be rejected with the message “Too many [open|stop] orders”. Order Minimum Size Limits We intentionally set the contract sizes of BitMEX products at low values to encourage traders both large and small to trade on BitMEX. However, some traders abuse this and spam the orderbook or trade feed with many small orders. Accounts with too many open orders with a gross value less than 0.0025 XBT each will be labeled as a Spam Account. If you are marked as a Spam Account: Orders below 0.0025 XBT in value will automatically become hidden orders. Hidden orders do not show in the orderbook and always pay the taker fee. Post-Only spam orders will be Rejected instead of being hidden. Too many spam orders may be grounds to temporarily ban an account from trading. Spam Account designations are re-evaluated and lifted automatically every 24 hours if user behavior has changed. WebSocket Limits WebSocket Limits are documented on the WebSocket API page. Behaviour BitMEX monitors the behaviour of accounts on the platform, including those using the API. Efficiency Accounts that consistently make a disproportionate number of order-management API requests per notional of XBT executed place unnecessary load on the system and may be banned. For example, if your account is making thousands of new/amend/cancel order API requests each day, yet not trading at all, your account may be banned. As a general guideline, you should target to make no more than 300 order management API requests per 1 XBT notional executed. To help keep your trading activity efficient, you may: Switch off the automated system that is using the API. Increase traded volume, by tightening your quotes or crossing the spread if necessary. Reduce the number of requests made. HTTP Keep-Alive BitMEX does not support placing or canceling orders via WebSocket, only via HTTP. Our servers support HTTP Keep-Alive and cache SSL sessions. If you keep a connection alive, you will get websocket-like latency, obviating the need to use the websocket for transactional communication. Our Keep-Alive timeout is 90 seconds. Overload Due to growth in the crypto space, BitMEX is currently under extremely high load. To help improve responsiveness during high-load periods, the BitMEX trading engine will begin load-shedding when requests reach a critical queue depth. When this happens, you will quickly receive a 503 status code with the message "The system is currently overloaded. Please try again later." The request will not have reached the engine, and you should retry after at least 500 milliseconds. We will keep clients updated as we improve peak capacity on the trading engine. Filtering Many table endpoints take a filter parameter. This is expected to be JSON. For example, the filter query {"side":"Buy"} can be url-encoded and sent to the trade endpoint (click to run). Most values can only be filtered by simple equality. Timestamps, which are all UTC, can be queried in many ways: Timestamp Filters The following fields can be passed in the "filter" param as JSON key/value pairs: Key Description Example Example Description "startTime" Start timestamp. "2014-12-26 11:00" On or after 11:00am on 26 December 2014. "endTime" End timestamp. "2014-12-26 13:00" On or before 1:00pm on 26 December 2014. "timestamp" Exact timestamp. "2014-12-26 12:00" Exactly noon on 26 December 2014. "timestamp.date" Exact day. "2014-12-26" The entire day of 26 December 2014. "timestamp.month" Exact month. "2014-12" The entire month of December 2014. "timestamp.year" Exact year. 2014 The entire year of 2014. "timestamp.mm" Month of year. 12 December of each year. "timestamp.dd" Day of month. 26 26th of each month. "timestamp.ww" Day of week. 6 Friday of each week. 0 = Sat, 1 = Sun "timestamp.time" Exact time. "12:00:00.000" Exactly noon of each day. "timestamp.second" Exact second. "12:00:00" The entire second from noon of each day. "timestamp.minute" Exact minute. "12:00" The entire minute from noon of each day. "timestamp.hh" Hour of day. 12 12th hour of each day. (i.e. noon) "timestamp.uu" Minute of hour. 30 30th minute of each hour. "timestamp.ss" Second of minute. 15 15th second of each minute. For example, the .BVOL7D index is calculated and published on the trade feed every 5 minutes. To filter to just noon on Fridays, send the payload: {"symbol": ".BVOL7D", "filter": {"timestamp.time":"12:00", "timestamp.ww":6}} (Click to run) OrderBookL2 A special note on the orderBookL2 table, which is the canonical table for orderbook updates and the only way to retrieve all levels: This orderbook is keyed by a unique ID, not price, so that all levels are unique across all symbols. This may be unintuitive at first but ensures that each level across the entire system is uniquely keyed. Therefore, when you retrieve an orderBookL2 update, it may look like this: {"table":"orderBookL2","action":"update","data":[{"symbol":"XBTUSD","id":8798952400,"side":"Sell","size":8003}]} Notice that this does not include the price, which you should already have set on the level. The process for handling updates, inserts, deletes, and partials on this stream is exactly the same as any other stream and requires no special handling. However, some tooling may make assumptions about book entries, like keying them by price. In that case, there are a few ways to handle this: Keep a local hashmap of ids you’ve seen to their price. When you receive an update or delete, look up the price in this map. This is simple but will consume some memory. Use the following formula to reverse-engineer the ID: ID = (100000000 * symbolIdx) - (price / instrumentTickSize) price = ((100000000 * symbolIdx) - ID) * instrumentTickSize Definitions: symbolIdx is the index of the instrument in the list of instruments instrumentTickSize as the instrument’s tickSize property. Due to in-flight changes of tickSize on some XBT contracts, an override may need to be applied. See below. This can be written as: // This is a compatibility change as the tick sizes of live instruments changed in-flight. If you are listing // these instruments, you must use their original tick as part of your calculations. If not, this can be ignored, // and you can use `instrument.tickSize` directly. const LEGACY_TICKS = {"XBTUSD":0.01}; function instrumentTickSize(instrument) { return legacyTicks[instrument.symbol] || instrument.tickSize; } // You should have a copy of the full instruments list on startup. // Fetch from: https://www.bitmex.com/api/v1/instrument?columns=symbol,tickSize&start=0&count=500 const instrumentsList = fetchInstrumentsFromBitMEX(); function getInstrumentAndIdx(symbol) { const instrument = instrumentsList.find((i) => i.symbol === symbol); const instrumentIdx = instrumentsList.indexOf(instrument); return [instrument, instrumentIdx]; } // To get a price from an ID: export function priceFromID(id, symbol) { const [instrument, instrumentIdx] = getInstrumentAndIdx(symbol); return ((100000000 * instrumentIdx) - id) * instrumentTickSize(instrument); } // And reversed: export function IDFromPrice(price, symbol) { const [instrument, instrumentIdx] = getInstrumentAndIdx(symbol); return (100000000 * instrumentIdx) - (price / instrumentTickSize(instrument)); } Applied to our update above, where the ID was 8798952400, you should get a resulting price of 10476: price = ((1e8 * symbolIdx) - ID) * instrumentTickSize 10476 = ((100000000 * 88) - 8798952400) * 0.01

[desperatelyfullforever]

Time for a Badly Written Out Omo Story!

So, remember how I said that I have tons of stories? Well, here’s one.

So, this story is me in marching band. A bit of info: tall dark-skinned girl, with curly hair that reached my shoulders and was often pulled into a puff ball. Tomboy, always wearing sweats/jeans and flannel. On this typical day however, I was not the person in dire need for a toilet. My friend was.

Let’s call her Angie. Tiny Hispanic girl without a lick of an accent unless speaking Spanish. She had long, curly/wavy hair, brown eyes, glasses, and barely stood past 5’0” at this point in time. Average body, she wasn’t overweight but wasn’t skinny either. Just a bit of pudgy belly that’s honestly adorable.

A bit more information about her: Angie typically, by some ungodly reason can go an entire school day without so much as a glance at a bathroom. I would know, I’ve known her for 7 years and she’s only urgently needed one about 6 or 7 times. So, to see her desperate is a godsend.

So, for this story, we were in high school. I’ll add that we’re both instrumentalists and thus played in our school’s marching band, her playing the clarinet while I played the trumpet. We typically did a football game for our high school varsity team once a week, while almost every week we had a competition. Then there were “double-headers”, where we would have both a football game and a competition in one day.

On this day, reporting time was 9am in the morning. Me being the good friend that I am, I call Angie and asked if she wants a coffee, because I’m on my way getting one. She said yes, got her a large. Got to school and she finishes it within ten minutes. No big deal, it was expected. We all arrive and go through today’s agenda: away football game in 2 hours, leave during halftime, arrive at competition, get home by midnight.

Not really surprised, honestly I expect it. Buses get there at 12:30, so we have a bit of time in between after a couple run-throughs. We get food, with her buying an iced tea and a water to wash the sugar out of her mouth. Both the water and tea are gone within an hour, and by the time we’re scheduled to leave we camp out in front of the school, waiting for the buses to arrive.

Did I mention that it’s incredibly hot on this day? Did I also mention how shitty the band uniforms are? Our uniforms are thick enough to trap heat inside in the summer, yet not thick enough to act as insulation in the winter. The band parents pass out water to all of us, Angie grabbing a couple.

Finally, the buses arrive. The school is roughly about a half hour away, and I sit with Angie. Normal conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s at the tail end of the bus ride that I notice her a bit tenser than usual, wincing when zipping up the band uniform (they don’t stretch at all; sitting down in them is a pain because it typically just cuts into your body). “Are you okay?” I asked.

She blushed a bit. “I’m fine.”

I left it at that. Didn’t pry, didn’t ask. We finished changing and after the bus stopped, got off and heading to the game. For away games, we perform before the game unless a special request is made (such as the away team not having a marching band or some sort of halftime show), so we were asked to fill in for them. We warm up and get on the bleachers, not really allowed to play because we’re using the show as our warmup for the competition later that night.

I sit with Angie, and she’s quiet. A lot more than usual. She’s also a lot tenser than earlier, not saying anything and simply keeping to herself. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” I ask.

Allow me to describe the field. It’s fucking huge and a bit of a ways away from the high school, so there’s concession stands and bathroom (read: port-o-potties) on both sides. Today just so happens to be this high school’s Senior Day, so it’s packed with families and whatnot. She’s sweating bullets so, in concern and curiosity, I ask her, “Do you need something to drink?”

She stiffens immediately and vigorously shakes her head before stammering, “No! I mean, I…I’m good. I had a bit of water earlier when we first sat down.”

No, she didn’t. She hadn’t had anything since the bus ride, and I know the large coffee, iced tea, water bottle, and two smaller bottles of water earlier were starting to go through her. So, I decide to be a bit of a bitch and ask, “I had a lot to drink, I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Do you need to go?”

I can’t even begin to tell you how many emotions went through her eyes when I said that, and that right there told me that her bladder was, if not full, at the very least filling up enough to be of mild concern. Part of her wanted to say yes, while the other wanted to stay put. Guess what side won out?

“I’m fine. I don’t need to go.” Lies, but I left it there and went to the bathroom. Admittedly, if she had gone one of us would’ve been shit out of luck because I left to go pee around the middle of the first quarter, and the marching band leaves during the middle of the second quarter to warm up and prepare to march onto the field. I get back right as we are packing up to head onto the track surrounding the field, and Angie looks worse for wear. Typically, she’s a lot more hyper, but right now she’s quiet as hell and keeping to herself.

As we’re walking onto the field the band parents are handing us cups of water to drink before we go onto the field (right now it’s about 85 degrees, or roughly 29 in Celsius) and they won’t let us go until we finish it, so we do. Angie takes hers like it’s a damn shot and chucks the cup in the trash before putting on a face, marching to her section.

So, from that point we’re simply warming up, playing parts of the show, etc. About two minutes left on the scoreboard we stand on the track, waiting for the players to be done with the first half so we can perform. We march on in a block, with it going by grade: seniors, juniors, etc. Angie’s standing next to me, and she’s fidgeting. It looks more like her being impatient, but to the trained eye it’s clear she’s feeling full. She’s shifting from foot to foot just a tad while fiddling with her clarinet.

Finally, we perform, and let me tell you, our show this year had a TON of kneeling, running, etc. Keep in mind earlier I said how our uniforms don’t stretch, so the material digs into your skin. The show is eight minutes long, and after we perform we march off to load the buses immediately and to use the bathroom when we get to the next high school. We get on the bus, and drive to the next school.

Now, this ride is about 45 minutes long. Angie is clearly fidgety; she’s rocking back and forth and has her hands somewhat in her lap. I ask her again if she’s okay and she insists that she is. Then we hit a hard, hard bump and she gasps out loud before clawing at her uniform, saying she’s hot and wants a bit of fresh air before we march again. Okay, fair, I don’t pry.

Halfway there, re run into traffic. She’s being way too obvious at this point, and I simply watch in silence while increasingly growing turned on. We get there an hour later, having barely enough time to get ready to perform. We’re told that we’ll use the bathrooms after, which is not going to end well; we’re the third to last band, so we can’t wander too far because the second band just gets to the sidelines while the last band performs. We quickly put our instruments away and the vast majority of kids haul ass to the bathrooms or getting food. Angie and I are captains, so we straggle behind to make sure everything’s okay with our respective sections. All five of the kids in her section hands her their clarinet so that they can rush to the bathroom (she’s known for never needing the bathroom, so they just assumed), and she’s squirming like hell. Her legs are crossed and she just can’t seep to get comfortable. By this point in time, it’d be stupid to rush to the bathroom because everybody is already in line, so she’d have no chance in getting in one until after the awards.

Finally, everybody comes back. Her section takes their instruments from her, and the second they do I notice her frantically unzip her uniform (it’s two layers, a jacket over an overall-type pants that zip up in the front) and sighing in relief. It’s still warm out, so the band parents once again hand out cups, and she once again chugs it.

Boring part of it is sitting through awards. She sat near family so I didn’t really get a good look at her, but the awards lasted for about 75 minutes before we closed (about 16 bands performed, and there were a lot of awards and scores such as best drumline, best color guard, etc.), so we ended roughly on schedule (we got to the football game before around 1ish, the game started at 2, we performed at 4:30, left at 5:15, got stuck in traffic until 7:30, performed at 8:10ish, last band performed at 10:15, awards started at 10:45, and ran until midnight).

I finally meet up with Angie who’s looking entirely too anxious to leave. “I’m hungry,” she says to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the crowd. “Can we get food?”

I know why she wants to go. The bathrooms are right next to the concessions. Luckily, we need to leave right away because it’s so late, so the band parents had already brought food for us to eat. We grab food and drinks and board the bus again. Of course, people are being asses and using chairs as tables for plates so there are less seats. I let Angie sit in my lap as we sit by the window.

In order for both of us to be comfortable I basically wrap my arms around her so that she stays steady, which means putting pressure on her bladder. The moment I do this she winces and crosses her legs tightly (by this point we’re out of uniform, both of us in shorts and a t-shirt). I say nothing for the most part.

About five minutes in, she gets a phone call with her parents asking me to take her home. Sure, I don’t mind. We’re gonna get home after 1 in the morning, so I didn’t mind in the slightest. But that meant waitng even longer, because I typically help unpack everything, and that takes about twenty minutes.

Anyway, another few minutes pass and she begins to tremble on and off. There’s times she’s still yet tense, other times she’s squirming like fuck. She slips a bit after a bump, and I naturally tense my arms to catch her. I push a decent amount on her bladder, and she gasps loudly while grabbing herself.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” I ask. “It looks like you need to…”

“Don’t say anything,” she cuts me off as she rips her hands away. “I’m…fine…” this is said while she’s tense as fuck and rocking back and forth in my lap.

I shrug, smirking. “Do you mind handing me my water, then?”

Of course, that fucks with her hard. She grabs it out of my bag and moans, “Oh, fuck,” from feeling the condensation, tossing it onto the seat next to us. She grabs herself again and wheezes, “Fuck, I need to pee damn it!”

Finally! With her saying it she finally gives in, whimpering while rocking her hips back and forth. She’s grinding into me pretty hard, rubbing against me every so often to work me up pretty damn good. “How much time left before we get to the school?” she whispers.

“About a half hour left.”

That only seems to make her need to go more, as she clutches herself. I sit there, not knowing what to say until a few moments later she goes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, grabs my hand and places it over her crotch, pressing her hands over mine while grinding into it.

Cue me overwhelmingly horny and turned on beyond belief at this point. I’d never thought I’d see the day where Angie’s dying for a piss, yet here she is, grinding into my hand while sitting in my lap. Unconsciously, I begin massaging her with the palm of my hand while relishing the sight in front of me.

Allow me to tell you how the hell we didn’t get caught. It was dark as hell inside the bus, and we were near the very back. Plus, the majority of kids were already knocked out from exhaustion. We’d only get caught if someone heard or was looking for it.

Here we are, with her grinding into my moving hand when I feel a spurt against my fingers. She moans and curls into a ball, rocking her hips harder. “Help, please,” she pleads.

Well, she asked.

Instantly I pull her against me even more and tilt her head to mine, kissing her. At first she’s understandably shocked to hell and back, but after a desperate grunt she kisses back. I rub my hand faster against her, making sure to get enough friction through her shorts.

I move from her lips and begin kissing her neck, urging her to keep quiet. She grabs at my legs and cocks her head to the side to give me more access, biting her lip. Did I ever mention that she’s bi, and we’ve had a crush on each other for the longest time? At this point we’ve had unresolved sexual tension like you wouldn’t believe, hence this situation happening like it did.

Anyway, after a lot of heavy petting I decide to risk it and slip my hand underneath her shorts into her slick folds, rubbing her clit while putting a bit of pressure on her bladder to see how she responds. She shivers and grinds harder into my hand, whispering words in Spanish. “Si bebe, no te atrevas a parar.” So, I keep going.

I never fully bring her over the edge because I don’t want her to cum and accidentally lose it, plus it’s just too good to be true for me and I don’t want it to end. By the time we get back to the school she’s leaked a couple more times and can’t keep a hand from between her legs, whether it’s mine or hers. I help pack everything away, with her standing to the side squirming and shuffling around.

I rush a bit and finish five minutes early, hurrying her to the car. Angie lives about ten minutes from the school so it’s not horrible, but right then and there it felt way too short. So, I stop for gas. It’s at this point that she’s on the verge of tears and is frantic as fuck in the car; both hands between her legs, legs moving back and forth, constant crossing and re-crossing, whimpers and moans, and so on. By the time I pull off she gasps again, louder than ever. “I can’t hold it, I’m gonna go, I’m gonna pee!” she whines, looking around as if there’s something she can go in.

“You better not piss in my car,” I warn.

She moans again and rips her shorts down, as if to squat down. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl. She finally lifts her shorts back up and continue holding it in, but now I hear steady, sharp leaks. By the time I get her to her house she’s so full it’s insane. She steps out of the car, makes it two steps and the damn bursts. She moans loudly it concerns me, until I notice the HUGE mess. A puddle already is forming, and she looks so relieved.

She takes about two minutes to finish, before inviting me inside and us finally sleeping together. 

[biancaschulte-blog]

Internet and the Law

IMK672-O This course was month eleven of twelve months in the Master of Science in Internet Marketing program. Because this is so close to the end, it was a course I was really looking forward to.  What I didn’t realize before starting the course was how important the things learned would be during a career in Internet Marketing. 

Original Three Objectives & How the Course Met These

The original three objectives for this course were:Know the different laws including intellectual property, copyright, domain names, trademark issues, and the First Amendment.

During Week One we learned about copyright & the internet and the very complicated jurisdiction law when pertaining to the internet. There have been many other important terms we have learned throughout the course. Concepts that are invaluable are anti-spam laws and the difference between clickwraps and browserwraps. 

Know what legal considerations presented can affect a developing marketing strategy and how to avoid legal problems which might arise.

The course has completely met this objective. It is amazing how important internet law is when creating a marketing strategy. It would be a detriment to run a website with zero knowledge of internet law. This month has made me extremely aware of how necessary it is to work with an expert in the law field before going too far into developing a large campaign.

Understand regulatory issues concerning the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and Federal Communications Commission (FCC), among others. 

This was another objective met by this course. Each week I spent a lot of time browsing through information provided by the FTC and FCC. These resources are now bookmarked on my browser, so I can quickly reference them in case any legal questions may arise. 

What I Learned

I truly have learned so much this month. From privacy policies to the validity of terms and conditions as legally binding contracts, I have learned concepts that I didn’t previously consider when preparing a strategy. I also learned that blogging can be relatively tricky when it comes to legal issues regarding defamation. I would have happily taken this course for another two months because I do feel like there is a lot more information that would be useful to know in a career as a digital marketer. 

Applying Information in Professional Endeavors

As a professional, I will continue to study internet law that may be related to whatever campaign I will be working on. The one thing I will immediately put to use is my new knowledge about anti-spam laws. I am currently working an internship that involves a lot of email campaigning. Having a greater understanding of anti-spam laws will be extremely helpful in creating successful email campaigns. Below is a fictitious mockup of an email campaign that would successfully make it through a spam filter by meeting CANSPAM rules. This was part of an assignment in week two of the course:

For the specific rules, you can read this excerpt from The IT/digital Legal Companion (2008):

“Here are CANSPAM rules that apply to commercial e-mail messages:

Header Information—The Act forbids false or misleading header information. E-mail’s “From,” “To,” and routing information—including the originating domain name and e-mail address—must be accurate and identify the person or organization who initiated the e-mail.

Subject Lines—The Act prohibits deceptive subject lines. The subject line cannot mislead the recipient about the contents or subject matter of the message.

Opt-Out—The Act requires that the e-mails give recipients an opt-out method. It can be a return e-mail or a Web-based mechanism. There can be other options presented to the user aside from stopping mail, but there must be a simple way to stop all commercial e-mail messages from the sender. The opt-out opportunity provided must be good for at least 30 days after the email data. When the sender receives an opt-out request, it has a maximum of 10 business days to stop sending e-mail to the requestor’s e-mail address.

Transfer Restrictions—Once a person has opted out, the sender cannot have or assist another sender to contact the same e-mail address. It is illegal to transfer or sell e-mail addresses of persons who opt-out (even if they are on a pre-existing mailing list).

Identification—The commercial e-mail must be identified, with a clear and conspicuous notice, as an advertisement, and it must include the sender’s valid physical postal address. Your message must tell the recipient that he or she may opt-out of receiving more commercial e-mail.

Sanctions—Each violation can lead to a fine of up to $11,000.”

(Landy, Mastrobattista. 2008)

In conclusion, I would have loved more time in this course. It covered so many concepts that are important to marketers that I would have loved to have it as a two-part course.

Reference:

Landy, G. K., & Mastrobattista, A. J. (2008). The IT/digital legal companion a comprehensive business guide to software, Internet, and IP law: Includes contracts and web forms. Amsterdam: Syngress/Elsevier.