#but all the reviews are just like... ranging from ehh to bad

[lawrencegarte]

i have not seen a single good review of wish fucking rip

[fresh-buttonsdotcom]

A Frog’s Adventure

By fresh-buttonsdotcom

Just like everyday it was a sunny day full of smiles and cheer from everyone in town. Frog walked down the small pebbled street and made his way to the café to enjoy his daily breakfast. He got smiles and waves from those who were awake as the crisp morning air chilled him down to his bones.

Frog had a routine, and this routine always started with two blueberry-and-fly pancakes and reading a book by basking in the sunlight of his favorite food joint in the entire town.

Today was no different. Frog walked into T’s Café and More, the familiar chime of the bell rang through the air signaling his arrival.

“Frog, my dear, how are you this morning?” Tortoise asked, walking slowly into the dinning room from the kitchen.

“I’m just fine, thank you. How are you?”

“Ehh, could be better. I missed the mail truck again yesterday.”

“You miss the mail truck everyday.”

“Oh hush up. I’ll fix you up some pancakes, you just take a seat and leave me alone.” Frog croaked a wet laugh and took his regular seat by the second window. He produced a hardcover copy of Piglet, a Snakesperian play, from his small bag and started from the third act. Halfway through the fourth act warm wafts of melted butter and warm syrup coated Frog’s tongue causing saliva to slip out the sides of his mouth. It was early enough in the day that the café was barely occupied, giving Frog great and reliable customer service.

“Here you go, hun.” Tortoise rasped, and set down the steaming plate of pancakes.

“You’re the best, TT.”

Tortoise smiled at Frog, “Don’t you forget it.”

Frog traded bites of pancake for lines of the play, and within twenty minutes he was done. Frog was so absorbed in the play, he didn’t even realize when more customers flooded into the small café. Chatter clogged the air, making talking to Tortoise impossible, so Frog threw down some money and walked out with his book in hand.

Outside the air had warmed up. Frog stripped off his light coat and placed it in his small bag. His bag was just big enough to fit his money pouch and a couple of books, but since Frog had only brought the one book with him he had space to stuff his small suede jacket inside. The town bell chimed seven times, indicating to Frog that it was time to go to work.

Frog worked at the local elementary school and worked with second graders. He both loved his job and despised it. On one lilypad there was the fact that all the kids Frog got to work with were all super cute. On the other lilypad, however, there was the decline of young'uns in their small town, which meant Frog could be out of a job any year. But Frog didn’t like to think about negatives like that, so instead he took everything day by day. Frog approached the small building and walked inside.

“Good morning, Mr. Frog!” Frog smiled at the verbal boom blasted down the hall.

“Good morning, Principal Tiger. Lovely day isn’t it?” Principle Tiger smiled tightly.

“It is. I’m afraid I have some bad news though. The triplets are sick, swine flu, and so is Mrs. Pig. I’m going to need you to sub in for the fifth grade class for the time being until Mrs. Pig is able to return.” Frog felt a pant in his chest. He loved teaching the second grade because that’s when you really get to start teaching them and getting them ready for the “real” world.

“Yes, I can do that.” The dejected tone of Frogs voice was not missed by Principal Tiger.

“Look, I know you love your second graders, but the triplets were going to be your last class for a while. Think of this as a promotion.”

“Sure, a promotion.” Frog’s mood was immediately dampened by the saddening realization that he would either have to teach a different grade, or find a new job all together.

Frog had lived in the small town of Pinkerton his entire life, fom egg, to tadpole, to froglet and finally frog. All of Frog’s other siblings had taken off after graduating school, and Frog hadn’t seen them since. Sure he gets the occasional letter, but he couldn’t help but miss all the commotion and ruckus they brought to his life.

Frog entered Mrs. Pig’s classroom, turned on the lights and looked around. There were five desks; each with a child’s personalized name tag. Frog placed his things below the teacher’s desk and pulled out the lesson plan for the week. After reviewing the plan for several minutes, the school bell went off, and students started arriving. Frog didn’t need an attendance sheet because he’d taught all of these kids previously—all but one.

Frog put on his happy face and greeted the kids, “Hello, come in, come in!”

“MR. FROG!” A chorus of small cheers resounded against the walls of the room.

“You’re going to be teaching us?” Chip asked nearly spitting out his lunch.

“I sure am! Why don’t you guys put your things away in your cubbies and then I’ll answer your questions.” Most of the kids scrambled to get their stuff put away and get back to their seats. One student was standing silently in the doorway. Frog took a quick peek at the attendance sheet.

“Hello. I’m Mr. Frog. Are you Toada?” Toada peaked her head out from under her hat, just enough for her eyes to lock onto Frog’s and quickly fall to the floor. “I promise I’m not scary,” Frog said calmly, slowly inching his way towards the frightened girl. He held out a lettuce leaf. Toada shook as she raised her head to meet Frog’s eyes once again. When their eyes met she flinched slightly but didn’t look away, and took the leaf with a trembling hand. Frog smiled at Toada, and watched her slowly put her things away and sit down at her desk.

“Mr. Frog, where’s Mrs. Pig?”

“Well, Birdy, Mrs. Pig is sick right now, so while she gets better, I’m going to be teaching you guys.”

“Mr. Frog, are we still taking that test on hibernation patterns?”

“Misty! Why’d you tell him?” Chip whined, rocking back and forth against his desk.

“Are you going to make us take a test, Mr. Frog?” Birdy asked, pecking nervously at the wooden desk.

“You guys will have a test—“ the exaggerated groans brought a smile to Frog’s face, “but it won’t be about hibernation patterns. This test will be about yourself, so there are no wrong answers.” The kids cheered and chatted spiritedly amongst themselves as Frog passed out a sheet of paper to each student.

“Okay, now I want you guys to start off with question number one: what is your name?”

“Easy peasy.” Misty remarked confidently. Frog looked around the room to make sure everyone was finished.

“Question two: what is the most interesting thing you’ve learned about hibernation?”

“I learned that when we hibernate, it needs to be like at 100 degrees!” Frog quickly brought a finger up to his lips.

“Shh, let’s let other people think on their own for now.” Frog suggested calmly. He continued on, asking about their favorite places, their funniest jokes and even the names of their best friends. After their fake test activity, Frog gathered their “tests” and resumed the lesson plan. At lunch time, when the kids where outside playing, Frog took the chance to read about what the kids wrote about. Most of their answers were silly and creative, but when Frog got to Toada’s, he realized she hadn’t written a word. Instead, she sketched a very detailed landscape of a forest with a black hole and a question mark on the middle of the page. Frog tried not to let the concerning picture bother him, but he couldn’t he’ll the way his eyes drifted nervously over to Toada every other minute, making sure she was still there.

After school ended and the bell rang, Frog gave the kids their homework sheets and sent them on their way, but not before trying to confront Toada.

“Toada, can you stay back for a few minutes?” Toada’s eyes bulged with fear, but she kept his gaze and nodded slowly. She shuffled up to the front of the room where the teachers desk was, and stood awkwardly on the other side of Frog, eyes down again.

“You’re not in trouble, okay? I just wanted to talk to you about this,” Frog provided Toada’s fake test and showed it to her, “what does this black circle mean? The one with the question mark in it.” Toada shrugged. “I know that can’t be true. You spent the entire first block of the day drawing it.” Toada stayed silent and Frog internally groaned. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it you don’t have to. You can go now.” Toada walked quickly out of the classroom leaving Frog with nothing but more questions.

Frog spotted Principal Tiger walking out of his office and walked briskly to catch up to him.

“Oh, Mr. Frog, how’d the first day go?”

“Pretty well, although there is one student I’m concerned about.”

“Toada?” The principle asked. Frog nodded and walked beside Principal Tiger as they both exited the building. “She’s new. Carmen found her out on the side of the road, dehydrated and alone. She’s currently living with The Ravens and the mayor is sending out letters everyday, but no one has claimed her in the past two weeks.” Frog’s heart ached at the thought of that little girl alone and without family.

“Does she speak?”

“Not that I know of. She clearly understands what’s being said, but is choosing not to talk back. The Ravens are trying to do speech therapy on her, but so far no luck.”

“If she doesn’t speak, how do you know her name?”

“She wrote it down for us. The child can clearly communicate but for some reason wants to stay silent.”

“Hmm, okay, thank you!” Frog took off towards the town square where newspapers from all over the county were sold. He got there and bought up one of each newspaper. He hurried home, practically tripping over his own feet. Once home, Frog found the advertisement sections of each paper and pulled them out. He microscanned each paper for a missing ad for Toada. After a few hours of scouring the papers, Frog had come to a dead end. Why was he so concerned about a little girl, Frog wondered to himself, before tucking all the papers away and calling it a night.

For the next few weeks, Frog continued buying all of the newspapers and searching for Toada’s parents. He also maintained a shaky relationship with Toada in school. He got her to make eye contact with him, he got her to write, but still no words.

During lunch, Toada would sit in the empty classroom with Frog and they would write to each other. Mostly it was Frog asking questions and trying to make jokes, and Toada sat there, amused and bored, opening up day by day.

On the third week since Frog took over Mrs. Pig’s class, Frog finally found something. It was a small ad, in the bottom right corner of the left page:

Missing Girl, Please Help! -Wetlands district

The ad read. Frog carefully cut out the ad and placed it in his bag. He was so excited to tell Toada about his discovery, he couldn’t sleep. Frog woke up to the sound of grass being mowed and knew he overslept. Looking at his wall clock, Frog saw he was going to be late for school if he didn’t hurry up. So he quickly grabbed a bread sandwich to go, and ran out the door. By the time Frog got to the school, the bell had finished ringing. Frog slid into the classroom, almost taking out Chip with him, and smiled brightly at Toada, before smiling at the rest of the class.

The day went by at a snail’s pace, but after seven grueling hours of containing his excitement, the bell rung.

“Toada, can I talk to you?” Toada nodded, and waited for the others to clear out of the room before Frog sat down across from Toada in the child-sized desks.

“So, I know that you’re lost,” Toada’s expressions turned cloudy, “and I know you don’t know how to get back or ask for help. So, here.” Frog took out the paper scarp from his bag and handed it gently over to Toada. She opened it carefully before her eyes scanned the writing. Her head shot up and her eyes filled with tears.

“Is this really them? Really?” She asked hushly. Frog was so taken aback by the fact that she had spoken, that it took him a few seconds to collect himself.

“I think so. That’s why I wanted to show you. This paper is from a county all the way in the Wetlands district. Does that sound familiar?” Toada shrugged and gripped the piece of paper harder. A fat droplet fell onto the paper, and her bottom lip started quivering.

“I want to go home!” She exclaimed, letting her tears fall stagnant down her cheeks. The echoes of her cries filled the empty halls, and Frog’s heart broke for the little girl. Then, and idea struck him.

“Let’s get you home.” Toada’s cries morphed into hiccups before softening into sniffles.

“How?” She asked, whipping away the tear tracks from her face.

“Well school is almost done, and Mrs. Pig should be back any day now. Principal Tiger will be able to teach the class so I can take you!” Toada and Frog ran excitedly through the halls to get to Principal Tiger’s office before he left. They skirted to a stop outside his office door. Frog jingled the door handle, before spotting Principal Tiger walking outside. Frog and Toada sprinted over to Principal Tiger, out of breath and full of excitement.

Frog couldn’t put his finger on why he was so excited to get Toada back to her family. But his stomach fluttered every time he thought about getting that little girl and her family back together.

“Principal Tiger!” Principal Tiger turned from where he was a few paces from his bike and smiled.

“Hello Mr. Frog, Toada. What can I do for you two?”

“Well it’s really for me. You see, I think I found her family!” Toada handed out the paper to the principal. His eyes scanned the paper a few times, before looking back at the two of them, this time without the smile.

“And what do you want to do you this?” Principal Tiger asked, shaking the paper around to show its flimsy-ness.

“Well, I want to take some time off to take her back to her family.”

“And if it’s not her family?” Toada’s excited expression dropped and her eyes went dull and Frog placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Well then I’ll bring her back.” Principal Tiger looked over the paper once more before shaking his head and handing the paper back to Frog.

“I can’t give you personal time for this. We need you to help the school run. I’m sorry, but the answer is no. Good day.” With that, Principal Tiger left Toada feeling hopeless and defeated.

“Flop that,” Frog declared after Principal Tiger was out of earshot, “I’m taking you home.” A spark reignited in Toada’s eyes before a slow smile crawled across her face.

(Please leave constructive criticism if you have any!)

[worldofcopperwings]

fic writing: 2017 in review

Snatched this off @theinsanefox‘s blog. <3

Total year-long word count: I have written, altogether, over 400,000 words, of which about 270,000 are currently posted on AO3. I have a couple of wips that are almost 40k words each plus other shorter wips.

Word count by fandom: Aside from one drabble, I’ve only posted Yuri On Ice fics, so... pretty much all the words are YOI.

Completed Fics: 11 (between 1k and 77k words) +22 ficlets (between 360 and 1,000 words)

Works-In-Progress: like 8 that might actually be finished

This year I wrote and posted: Everything that’s currently on my AO3. (Linking to my links page because tumblr hates external links, stupid tumblr.)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? Way more than I thought. Like way more. I hadn’t written fic in about a decade when I suddenly crashed headfirst into the YOI fandom in like... March? And then posted my first fic in April.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Any YOI pairing, because I only discovered YOI in February... Victuuri and Otayuri were pretty obvious from the beginning, but I never thought I’d get so much into Pliroy as well. :’)

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? I can’t decide! chasing fireflies is my ultimate precious baby, but transatlanticism was my first Pliroy and it makes me so happy because I feel like I managed to convey the story the way I wanted it. Then there’s also the invisible ones, my longest and most plot-heavy fic, and kick up the roots, the romance-movie trope fic. Like, any one of those four. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? I started posting a work-in-progress and never finished it. That taught me to finish fics before I start posting.

Your best story of this year: the invisible ones. It’s 77,000 words long and full of plot and cuddles and connecting with nature. Or perhaps chasing fireflies because I have had neuroatypical and/or demisexual people come tell me that my characterization of Yuri was relatable to them. <3

Your most popular story of this year: most popular by kudos: Void

Story of yours most under-appreciated by the universe, in your opinion: the invisible ones. There were a lot of people who appreciated it, sure, but I still feel like, because I’m not a “big name” in the fandom, most people wouldn’t click on it... or perhaps because it’s a mythology AU and perhaps people are not interested in that. But either way... *shrugs* 

Most fun story to write: kick up the roots, like it was so much fun to write a fic that was purposefully grabbing all the romance movie clichés and running wild with them. I have to admit I kind of borrowed the idea from @lucycamui who did the same with fairytale tropes. ;)

Story with the single sexiest moment: erm, I only recently started writing more smutty content again, and I’m really bad at considering what might be considered sexy. But I like the way I wrote the breakfast scene in transatlanticism, so I’m going to go with that.

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: I don’t think I have any of these. My writing is pretty tame by such standards I guess :D

Story that shifted your own perceptions of the characters: transatlanticism, it made me look at JJ in a different way.

Hardest story to write: probably the hunt, because I know next to nothing about mafia AUs and this was my first mafia AU. But it was very well-received so I guess I didn’t botch it that bad :D

Biggest disappointment: messages in a bottle. It was the first longer fic I started posting (as a wip, big mistake) and then I got discouraged because I felt like there wasn’t much of a response, so I lost motivation and it still sits untouched in my wip folder. But it taught me to finish fics before I start posting, so, ehh.

Biggest surprise: The response to chasing fireflies. I didn’t expect people to love it as much as they did, but it made me so happy that they did. :’)

Most unintentionally telling story: Of me as a person, or what? Anyway, I feel like kick up the roots fits the bill, because it reveals how much of a sap I actually am. Because let me tell you, I could write Hallmark fics all day long and never get tired of it.

Favorite opening line(s): From Void:

They say one’s future is written in the sequences of DNA that make up a person. That the base pairs that make you who you are also hold the knowledge about who you will become as time passes.

And once you’re old enough, your DNA begins to manifest your future through your skin as pictures that emerge, allowing you to determine what path you should walk on.

Favorite closing line(s): From chasing fireflies:

Otabek waits, and when Yuri finally exhales and his lungs somehow don’t explode, Otabek reaches his free hand across the table to brush a strand of hair behind Yuri’s ear.

“I love you,” Otabek repeats softly.

Five days. Yuri thinks he can just about survive five days with that.

Top 5 scenes from anywhere you would choose to have illustrated:

in chasing fireflies the scene where they go see the fireflies.

in transatlanticism as they stand up on the hill above the lake and JJ hugs Yuri from behind.

in the invisible ones when Yuri discovers his connection with the forest, sitting under a fallen tree so the roots form a halo around him, with a raven on his shoulder.

in kick up the roots the kiss by the fireplace.

in chasing fireflies the staring contest. 

Fic-writing goals for next year: Expand my range of pairings and explore new things. Develop my skills as a writer.

-

So, to end this, I’m going to list the favorite things I’ve written this year:

Otayuri fics

chasing fireflies (27k; Mature)

kick up the roots (21k; Teen and up)

the invisible ones (77k; Mature)

the hunt (19k; Explicit)

Mind You (22k; Teen and up)

i dare you (2k; Teen and up)

non-Otayuri fics

transatlanticism (10k; Pliroy, Explicit)

Void (14k; Victuuri, Teen and up)

[nebulouswinds]

30 Qs Tag

Tagged by @honorarytimelady

1. nickname: Haven’t one

2. gender: ehh

3. star sign: Virgo

4. height: 5’7”ish

5. time: nearabouts 18.00 I can’t see the clock

6. birthday: 17 September

7. favourite band(s) (not kpop): honestly I don’t pick by bands/singers. just whatever I’m listening to I’m listening to. I’ve been listening to Die Toten Hosen recently but

8. favourite solo artist: been listening to Mark Forster, but again not big on by performer, more just whatever comes on (a lot of spotify playlists).  [That said we all know I love Tao]

9. song stuck in my head: idk what it is but it’s in 6/8.  I don’t recognize songs ealisy esly easliy easily. I had Havana for a long while but ehhh

10. last movie watched: Prooooooobably The Last Jedi?  I really don’t watch movies.  They are exactly the wrong timeframe for my attention span. [Also: I don’t have real opinions on TLJ because I was having a Bad Day sensory-wise.  Horrid.  enough so my dad checked on me to see if I had stopped shaking yet almost three hours after the film]

11. last show watched: Grey’s Anatomy  I watch it while I eat because it doesn’t need a lot of processing, but I’m hoping to start a rewatch of FMA soon.  or anything really.  Just don’t have a lot of focus

12. when did i create my blog: 2016, though basically in August 2017 since I did the whole purge thing

13. what do i post: I don’t [a lot of fandom stuff, harry potter and artemis fowl and star wars and kpop, tao, stories across my dash] I just forget to be active a lot of the time (my queue is about 250 now tho, so it’ll be going for 25 days.  and more if I remember to clean my likes)

14. last thing i googled: stuff with chem, probably

15. do you have other blogs: all of them, but they aren’t active

16. do you get asks: not really

17. why did you choose your url: read it in a post, a comment by some author, really loved the weight in the rhythm

18. following: 81. need to clean it, though. many are likely inactive

19. followers: 49

20. favourite colour(s): white/light grey

21. average hours of sleep: if you do the math it’s like 5.86, but it ranges from 3 to 10.

22. lucky number: 4

23. instruments: piano-ish. tried playing back at home and uhhh I’m rusty. started picking up classical guitar but not really. and I can play the recorder that’s a thing

24. what am i wearing: jeans and t-shirt for my uncle’s campground and a long-sleeved undershirt and I should do socks but I’m lazier than I am cold

25. how many blankets i sleep with: 1-6 dependent on weather

26. dream job: automail engineer. or something with genetics. or something with kids. or something with language.  I’m going to school for the first one, though (or a rough approximation).  have applied for jobs with the second

27. dream trip: all of it

28. favourite food: I really want tator tot casserole and peaches rn

29. nationality: American, though almost German.  Dad turned down the job. (But I’ve been told to put my name in at the company when I get another year of German in ???? I’m terrified)

30. favourite song now: I’m not currently writing, so I’m not currently listening to music with purpose.  I’m exhausted.  (But fun thing with writing is that my 2017 in review on Spotify was. all fic songs.  and I’d listen to it while walking to school and suddenly be overwhelmed with feels for STM and shit)

I don’t tag.  I’m too tired and lazy

[toxicbuckys]

Nerds 1.0 || Peter Parker AU

Prompt - AU where Peter is a high school AP Physics teacher and Y/N is the Anatomy teacher and all their students ship them but they’re too awkward to notice the other one crushing on them, so the students take it into their own hands.

Warning - some vulgar language. extreme cuteness. teen!Avengers  :)))

A/N: btw the narration in this fic might seem a little salty, but that’s only cause I’m really salty right now about some stuff. 

not my gifs

“Can you overgrown children give me like five minutes of peace?” She tells her overbearing students, they groan. 

“But mom!” Her most annoying student shouted, she rolls her eyes at the boy. Her students had made a habit of calling her mom and it was by far very annoying. 

“Tony, you call me mom one more damn time-”

“Ooh! She said damn, that’s a bad word!” Another one of her troublemaking students shouted from the back of the class. 

“If it’s a bad word, then why would you say it, Barnes?” She retorted, the boy deflated and sat back down. His boyfriend, Steve, laughing and trying to comfort him as his classmates laughed. 

“You guys are high school seniors. I did not sign up to be a teacher to babysit a bunch of five year olds,” she complained, everyone in the class knew she was joking. She was just as rowdy and annoying as they were, it’s why this particular class was her favorite. 

“Come on, Ms. Y/L/N, you know you love us,” Natasha, a troublemaking redhead sitting with her feet up on the desk, said with a barely noticeable smirk on her face. 

“No you’re wrong. You’re all terrible and I hate you,” Y/N lied as she took a sip from her cup of coffee that sat on top of a pile of papers. 

“YOU LOVE US!” Screamed Tony and Clint at the same time, jumping up from their seats and running up to her desk to hug her. 

She couldn’t hide her smile then. Sure they were all extremely annoying and loud, but then again so was she.  

“Actually no. You know who she does love?” Natasha starts, a smirk rising on her face. 

The whole class quiets for a few seconds before they all yell out. 

“MR. PARKER!” 

A red blush rises on Y/N’s cheeks at the mention of the AP Physics and Calculus teacher, Peter Parker. She tried to deny it every single time, but her students knew better. 

“Oh come on guys, not this again!” She whines, and throws her head in an exaggerated exasperated groan. 

Ever since Peter had been hired as the new Physics teacher, the students almost immediately began ‘shipping’ them together. The two of them had became close friends in the blink of an eye seeing as they were both huge science nerds, their students saw this. Continuously teasing the both of them about their crushes. Both of them trying their best to deny, but neither of them could lie well enough to a bunch of teenagers who knew and understood the signs of a crush. 

 “We will bring this up as many times as we can until you guys realize that there’s some major amor going on,” Sam says from the far right row of the class, chewing on his mechanical pencil as he not so discreetly tried to finish his Spanish homework before the bell rang. 

The class agreed with him. 

“Alright fine, we’ll play it like that. How about I bring up the topic of your grades?” She laughs as the majority of the class starts to beg her not to continue.

“That’s what I thought!” She shouts, laughing loudly at the defeated faces of her students.

For the remainder of the class they reviewed the cardiovascular system for the test they were going to have next class. 

The bell rings and the bustling students jumped around in excitement for lunch, “Bye Ms. Y/L/N!” they all shouted. 

“Get out! Go to lunch!” She jokingly yells, they laugh and push each other out of the classroom. 

Y/N smiles to herself and begins to grade papers from another class. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” She hears a voice say, she looks up and turns her head to see the only freshman student in her class full of seniors. 

“Wanda, what are you still doing here? You should be at lunch,” she says in a concerned tone. 

“I know but I have a test in European History that I have to study for, and I wanted to ask something of you,” she explains. 

“Oh that’s right, I forgot, you have all senior classes. What can I help you with?” 

“Could I get some extra credit or something to raise up my grade? I have a college interview in a few days and they’ll be looking at my grades,” the girl asks, clutching her history textbook in her hands. 

“Wanda, you already have an A in this class…” 

“Yeah, I know but it’s a 99% because of that B that I got on the quiz about the systemic and pulmonary circuits, I was distracted that day,” she wasn’t directly saying it but she was begging for another chance, and Y/N didn’t need any more pressing from her pleading student. 

“Do you want to retake the quiz? I doubt you’ll get another B,” she offers, Wanda’s eyes light up. 

“Yes please!” Y/N chuckles at the young girl's’ enthusiasm and rummages through some folders for an empty sheet of the specific quiz. 

She finds it and hands it to Wanda who hurriedly grabs it and sits at the nearest desk. Wanda finishes the quiz in minutes before finally scribbling her name and class period on top. Y/N grades her paper in front of her, and to no one’s surprise, she got a perfect 100. 

“Oh my god, what a surprise…” Y/N mumbles, Wanda giggles to herself. 

The door opens and the two women turn to look at the door. 

There Mr. Parker stood at the doorway holding a bag of food that smelled strongly of New York takeout, he saw Wanda standing in front of Y/N’s desk and blushed. 

“Should I come back or…?” He trails off. 

“No need Mr. Parker, I was just leaving. Thanks Ms. Y/L/N!” Wanda says as she begins to walk to the door. 

Peter walks into the room and sets the food down on the desk. Y/N looks behind Peter to see Wanda giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up, then pointing at both Y/N and Peter and making a heart with her fingers. Y/N got up and removed her sneaker before chucking it at the girl, Wanda dodged it and quickly left the class. 

Her unmistakable laughter bouncing off the walls of the hallway. 

Y/N sat back down to see Peter looking at her weirdly. “What was that about?” He asked opening the container of takeout food, Y/N blushed immensely. 

“Oh, nothing.”

…

Wanda runs into the lunchroom in search of her friends, the seniors. 

They sat in their usual table, eating away at the chicken wings that were being served today. 

“Guys! Guys!” She shouts as she nears the table, they turn their heads to look at their freshman friend. 

“What’s up?”

“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Parker are in her class right now eating lunch together! He bought her food!” She yells excitedly, the table gasps. 

“Seriously?!” Natasha exclaims. 

“Dead serious.”

“We’re gonna go spy on them, right?” Clint asks, licking the ketchup off his fingers and wiping his hands on his pants. 

“Hell yeah.”

They all snuck out of the lunchroom without getting caught and made their way to Ms. Y/L/N’s classroom. The door had a little rectangular window for them to see through, it wasn’t big enough for all of them but luckily Clint had special access to the school’s air ducts. 

Especially the one in Ms. Y/LN’s classroom. 

He unlocked his phone and FaceTimed Natasha and pointed the camera at the future couple. Outside of the classroom, the group crowded around Natasha and her phone. They all quieted down and watched the two awkwardest and nerdiest people in the world attempt to have a conversation without mentioning science and or Star Wars. 

Both of them failing miserably. 

They had somehow gotten into an incredibly deep conversation about Star Wars conspiracy theories. 

“Oh my god, these fucking nerds!” Tony whispers, the rest of the group agrees. 

“We gotta do something or they’re gonna spiral into a never ending conversation about Darth motherfucking Vader,” Steve says, Bucky nods agreeing with his hunky beefcake. 

“Yeah, someone text Barnes and tell him to do something about this…whatever this is,” Bucky says waving his hand for emphasis.

Tony quickly pulls out his phone, his thumbs running over the screen in a blur. A few seconds later, his eyes read a message on the screen. 

“He wrote, ‘On it ;)’.”

They all began to silently think of what Clint had in store for their two favorite teachers. 

In the air duct, Clint quietly pulled two small rocks from his pocket. He had been planning on throwing them at some kid who messed with him earlier but this was more important. 

The air duct he was hiding in was directly above Y/N’s desk but both her and Peter were facing away from him so this was the perfect opportunity. 

“So I wanted to ask you something and excuse me if it makes you uncomfortable, but…do your students say anything about us…you know– uh, liking each other?” Peter asks, Y/N almost chokes on her teriyaki chicken but hides it with a strong cough. 

“Ehh sometimes, why do you ask?” She lies straight through her teeth and hides her blush by looking down at her lap. 

“Well, because-uh they’re always telling me that you…have a crush on me, and that apparently it’s pretty obvious…” 

Her hands were now numb and she wanted to disintegrate into thin air. 

‘No shit, you fucking idiot,’ she thought. 

“Uhh well, I-I wouldn’t say obvious b-but, I mean-” she couldn’t think of anything to say and now she really wanted to die. 

Clint couldn’t watch his favorite teacher suffer anymore so he slowly and quietly opens the air duct by removing the detachable air grille. 

He throws the first rock at the door, the two teachers turn to the door thinking that someone had knocked. Y/N stands up to open the door, she looks through the little window but when she sees no one she turns back. 

Then, Clint throws the second rock right into Peter’s shirt causing him to stand up and spill chicken fried rice covered in soy sauce all down Y/N’s t-shirt. 

“Oh shit, fuck! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed trying to apologize. 

He grabbed a few napkins and tried to wipe off the soy sauce stains but only making it worse.

“No, i-it’s fine it-” 

“I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean-”

Both were too flustered to let one another finish their sentence. By now Peter wasn’t wiping anything except for her chest, it took a few seconds for both of them to notice exactly what he was touching. 

The blushing idiots finally decided to pull away from each other, and chuckle nervously at their current situation. 

“Come on, come on.” Natasha mumbles under her breath as her and the group continue to watch from her phone. 

Y/N and Peter were now pretending that the whole thing didn’t happen but the stain on Y/N’s light gray shirt said otherwise. Finally, the two of them mustered up enough confidence to actually say something intelligent. 

“Would you like to go out sometime?” They asked simultaneously. 

They both chuckle nervously, “I know it’s not the best time to ask, but…I-I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while and I just didn’t know if you…”

She smiles, “Well I do, and I’d love to go out with you.”

At that moment, the group started cheering completely forgetting that the hallway echoed. 

“Yes OTP!” Sam shouts, almost immediately slapping his hand over his mouth. 

“What the hell?” Y/N mumbles and walks over to the door, seeing their teachers walk toward them the entire group got up and hauled ass back to the lunchroom, the sound of shoes squeaking and stomping on the floor along with the loud swears coming from the teenagers themselves could be heard from inside the classroom. 

Clint watching them run on his phone cursed out loud, “Shit!” he said, his eyes widened. 

Both Peter and Y/N turned to the vent, “Wha-Clint!” Y/N yelled when she realized what was happening. 

There was no point in being quiet now, Clint shimmied down the vent before his teacher crawled in after him. 

Peter and Y/N stood there helpless. 

“I’m gonna kill them.”

“Meddling kids.”

BONUS:

The next day when the matchmakers walked into Calculus, a class that Peter taught, they all sat next to each other. Being the only people in the school that knew that the two teachers that everyone has been shipping were finally together had its advantages. They’ve been trading test answers for gossip all morning. 

The school was bustling with the news. 

Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Parker were finally together. 

Even Principal Fury and Assistant Principal Hill were excited about it. 

When Peter sees them sitting innocently in their seats, he turns to them. 

“I don’t know whether to say thank you or goodbye, she was pretty angry.”

“Ah, she’ll get over it once you give her that good nerd loving,” Sam jokes, Peter blushes and a tries to hide a very noticeable smile.

“Ew dude, that’s our mom you’re talking about,” Tony says.

Clint perks up.

“Speaking of mom, we’re not calling you dad.”

.

.

.

A/N: I had way too much fun with this. This was mostly about the teen!Avengers, but honestly I live for that AU. 

• MESSAGE ME IF YOU WANT A PART TWO

[dumbfinntales]

Alright, I just beat Yooka-Laylee with almost 100% completion. Time for my very subjective sort of review. What did I think of it? Yeah, I liked it. It’s pretty good, but has plenty of flaws.

Yooka-Laylee is the 3D platformer that I’ve been craving for. It might not be an amazing game, and I don’t know what people expected of it to get such a negative reaction. But it’s still good. It’s not “another mighty no. 9″ as some people say. They’re entitled to their opinions, but I disagree strongly. The overwhelmingly bad reaction to this game really baffles me. I don’t think the game is bad enough to warrant it, but neither is it good enough to warrant an overwhelmingly positive reaction. It’s somewhere in the middle. It’s good, but flawed. I don’t know about you, but I can enjoy games even if they’re flawed. Take Dragons Dogma for example. Heavily flawed, yet one of my favorite games of all time.

Let’s get to the things I liked about the game. I liked a lot of the character designs, except for Vendi and some of the knights of Hamalot. Those NPC’s look really bad, while some others look really good. Like take our protagonist duo for example, or our lovable antagonist Capital B. I also really liked some of the characters like Trowzer, Dr. Quack and Rextro. Many of the random NPC’s you encounter once or twice during your journey didn’t really leave an impact on me. Although you do have humorous interactions with some of them. Talking about humor, I really liked it in this game. There’s a bit too much 4th wall breaking jokes, but there were plenty of moments that made me chuckle and put a smile on my face. Like Capital B showing up in Capital Cashino in a mustache, trying to cheat you out of your pagies. Or the World 1 boss fighting you because he thinks you’re a door to door salesman. It’s great.

The levels are huge and littered with all kinds of challenges to complete, and of course collectibles to collect. Hunting for pagies was a lot of fun, and going back to earlier levels with new moves gave me a nice metroidvania style feel. The level design was kinda ehh, as most stages were designed as big playgrounds with challenges scattered around it. I didn’t mind this design at all, and enjoyed almost all the levels. The only one I didn’t particularly like was the swamp world, and that was mostly because I just didn’t like the look and the feel of that place. My favorite is the Casino level, for sure. Even the hub world was great. The way how interconnected it is and it has it’s own set of challenges and collectibles. The boss fights also ranged from really bad to actually really good. World 2 boss was garbage, while world 4 boss was a lot of fun. I won’t spoil anything, but I also really liked the final boss. Maybe a tad bit drawn out, but I actually died against that boss a few times. Overall the bosses are alright. Two out of six boss fights were what I’d consider “bad”.

Now time for what I didn’t like. For one, Rextro and his mini games can bugger off. I like Rextro as a character, a lot, but his infuriating mini games really sucked the fun out of the game. I dreaded playing his awful games to get the pagies. It wasn’t enough you had to beat them once, but a second time as well for those high scores. Yay! While the game controlled just fine for me, there were things that controlled. Well, less fine. The snow plough in world 2 being the worst offender. Whoever designed those controls should be fired. Oh, and the way your character controls during flight? It’s horse shit. Controlling Yooka and Laylee while they’re flying feels stiff and just terrible. Some of the character voices also got on my nerves. I can stand yooka and laylee, but characters like Dr. Quack and Capital B have horrible grunting voices. Listening to them during cut scenes where you can’t skip the voices is just awful. For my ears at least. There’s one more thing. Remember how I said “almost 100% completion”? Well. I’m stuck at 144 pagies. There’s a glitch in one of the levels that prevents you from getting all the pagies. Of course lucky me got that glitch and I got cheated out of 100% completion. I have no idea how something this big made it into the final game, and into ALL VERSIONS OF THIS GAME. This has happened to many people on every platform. Bravo Playtonic, not being able to complete a collectathon game due to a glitch is a load of bull crap. Apparently the game is very buggy for some people, but for me everything has been fine. Or was fine until that glitch. Ugh.

Overall Yooka-Laylee really isn’t as bad as some people are saying. It’s not shit, but neither is it pure gold. It’s fun, charming but also flawed. If you’re a big fan of 3D platformers I very much recommend this game. If you’re cautious due to the reviews, that’s understandable. Wait for a sale and try the game out. You’ll either be pleasantly surprised like me, or just hate the games guts. There’s a lot of that going around. I’m looking forward to what Playtonic has to offer next, and I hope 3D platformers like this become a bit more common. Because Yooka-Laylee doesn’t have much competition in the modern market. I’d give the game a solid 7/10. I would have given it a higher score, but the game decided to cheat me out of that sweet sweet 100% completion, so screw them.

[ecotone99]

Revelation (FN)

Part 1

Awoken by the dreading sound everyone fears, John’s alarm clock rang through him, forcing a loud groan followed by sighs of irritation. The young man stretched over to turn the evil siren off, but now he was awake and there was no point going back to sleep. Forcing himself to sit up he gave a lifeless glance into his television which had been left on overnight. It was a Sunday, which should mean he could sleep in and relax; however, he had a book to write and a long day ahead him. John had spent what felt like his whole life writing, always wanting to be an author, unfortunately at 26 years of age, he had nothing of worth to show for it, a few minor publications with mediocre reviews at best. However, this time it would be different, John was hungrier than ever to write and was determined to nail his next book. Rolling out of bed, he stretched his arms to the heavens. He sported a good physique, 6”2, lean, not as muscular as he wished but that didn’t bother him. His handsome face and dark brown eyes were topped off by hair so black it didn’t look natural. Hair that John always styled backwards, for the sole reason of looking more sophisticated and like a serious author. Brandished down the left-hand side of his neck, was a recognisable scar, that John loathed. He had always had the unpleasant scar and had no memory of were it came from. In fact, he had no recollection whatsoever of his early childhood years. His mind could stretch back to when he was around 7 or 8, moving into foster homes, but before that, nothing. There was one clue he had, if you could even call it that. A recurring dream that he experienced, a dream he assumed was from his forgotten past. It’s wasn’t a good dream, nor a bad one. He had always struggled to piece it together. It was like a jigsaw that he could never complete.

Darting around his somewhat clean bedroom, picking up the clothes he needed, never being one to put too much effort into his style, as he mostly just wore all black. Mainly for two reasons, it was cheaper and easier to wash. The look for today turned out to be well fitted black jeans, black socks and a slim fit black t-shirt with white writing across the front reading “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown” A quote from one of his favourite authors H.P Lovecraft. Off to the kitchen for some morning fuel, he walked through the small one bedroom apartment which by all standards was nice and fortunately for him had cheap rent, because the money he made from writing was certainly not enough to sustain a living, in fact he had been living of inheritance money from his birth parents since he turned 18, and that wasn’t going to last forever.

A high-pitched whistle erupted from the stove-top kettle, which John subsequently poured into a cracked and stained white mug which had seen better days. The strong aroma of cheap black coffee and hot steam filled John’s nostrils, and without hesitation he picked up the freshly made coffee and downed it, giving off a sour face and grunt of displeasure. John was more concerned about just readying himself for the day ahead than trivial nonsense such as a good cup of coffee.

Grabbing his black oxford shoes that gave of a sharp reflection and slipping them on, John completed his look with a fine black overcoat and a black wool scarf to cover his neck, and just before darting out the door, he picked up his lap-top bag and flipped it over his shoulder. Closing the door behind him, he turned and looked across the empty hallway at the door to his new neighbours’ apartment. The apartment had sat empty for a couple of months until just 2 weeks ago when a young woman in her early twenties had moved in. If memory served him right, her name was Bel, they had only spoke a handful of times, mostly small encounters around the building, she seemed quite shy to John, so he never wanted to bother her too much. Unexpectedly, the door slowly opened and there stood bel, she looked prettier than John had seen before, wearing makeup and a white floral dress with teal and pink flowers, her shoulder length red hair and brown eyes really stood out thanks to her pale skin, which was even paler than John’s. Bel looked up making eye contact, smiling away “good morning “she said

Still enthralled by her appearance John nodded back to her “yeah good morning to you”

As they both headed down the narrow and dark flights of stairs john looked across to her, nervously muttering “so how are you finding your new place”

“It’s absolutely wonderful, much nicer than what I’m used to and we’re also nice and close to the city”

John eagerly replied “That’s true, and don’t forgot about the rent, hard to find a place this nice for so cheap” followed by an unconfident laugh

“ehh we are?... ah yeah of course… nice and low for people like us” Forcing an awkward smile after speaking

John assumed this was her first apartment so she must not be too familiar with rent prices, but mostly all he could think about was where she was going dressed so nicely this early in the morning, the only thing that could come to mind was she was going out on a date, however that wouldn’t make much sense because it’s 9am, not to mention she had never brought up anything about a boyfriend in there previous small encounters, and he hadn’t seen anyone visiting.

John’s intrigue got the better of him and he finally let out “So where are you off to this morning then, a date perhaps?”

Letting out a quiet giggle bel replied “Oh goodness no, I’m off to Sunday Mass”

John’s pale face began to turn red, and embarrassingly replying “I’m sorry I didn’t mean too”

But before he could finish Bel cut in “No no please don’t worry about it, I always try to look my best for church, I guess it does look like I’m going on a date”

John pointed to the silver cross on the end of the shining necklace bel wore “That explains the bling”

“ahh yes I never take this off, I really do love it” she replied. “I take it you’re not the religious type then”

“Unfortunately, not, I think my real parents were, but I don’t remember them so I’m not too sure”

“well good thing God loves all, no matter their beliefs, even the sinners”

“Well I bloody hope so” John amusingly responded. As they excited the main building, they were greeted with blinding sunshine, a gust of fresh air and the sound of light morning traffic, John went to turn right and abruptly heard bel say

“Well I’m off this way” signalling the opposite direction

“Ah yes you don’t need a train to church, well I’ll see you later then Bel” putting his hands together and nodding forward to mimic a prayer “enjoy your….

With a wide smile Bel replied “oh I will thank you, enjoy your writing John! I’ll see you very soon” before elegantly strolling in the opposite direction.

“My writing?” he pondered “I guess I must have mentioned it to her before”

Now alone and on route to the train station, the shadows of derelict apartment buildings plagued the sun pathed streets that john strutted down, once a vibrant urban area in the outskirts of the city, was no longer, over the past couple of years high crime rates, a heavy spike in gang violence and even the unbearable low temperatures all played their part in chasing people away from Naperville, a once Vibrant city in the Chicago Metropolitan Area. However, none of this bothered John, because it just lowered his rent and he made sure to be safe and keep out of trouble.

Upon arrival at the local station, John was taken aback by the lack of people at the station, especially so early in the morning. It was true that over the last few years the areas numbers had dwindled, but the station was always guaranteed to provide a familiar face or two, game for a friendly conversion. Patiently biding his time he couldn’t help but notice a strange figure on the platform across the tracks, an elderly gentleman that he had never seen here before, the old man donned an immaculate white suit that looked more expensive than anything John had ever laid his hands on, with a perfectly groomed white handlebar moustache, the gentleman simply looked like he had stepped out of Victorian England. Intrigued and staring upon the old man, suddenly he turned his head and aimed his sharp eyes towards John, with the timely appearance of a train arriving on the platform to cut the line of sight between the men.

Boarding the train, John stood at the little space he could muster, holding on to the grips above him to maintain balance, and staring outside the window across the platform to try and get another glimpse of the strange old man, however he was nowhere to be seen. Turning away in slight curiosity with the speaker abruptly announcing “Next stop, Chicago Union Station”

A swift hour later John had made it into the city and was now entering, his so called “workplace”. A small but well-kept café, which was masked behind busier streets and conglomerate coffee shops, it lay down a small alley identified by a welcoming sign hanging from a cleft dark green building donning the name WORMWOOD CAFÉ. Walking inside, being met by a loud bell above the door, John looked around, there was only three other people scattered around the dimly light room, which reeked of coffee beans. Strolling past the engrossed millennials, John sat down at his usual spot, a somewhat comfortable highchair near the back of the café, next to a window, allowing him to stare into space when he wasn’t writing, which unfortunately, was a very common occurrence. Pulling out his laptop and sitting it upon the black polished wooden table, A cheerful shout from a slender figure emerged from the staff area.

“Just the usual Jonny boy?”

Immediately causing everyone to look up at this eccentric figure, “Yeah that’s fine” John hesitantly shouted back. The others in the room now gazing upon him, before mindlessly being sucked back intro their phones and tablets. With an expressionless look on his face, John stared into the harrowing nothingness on his screen. The only words sprawled across the pitiful landscape were Chapter One. He certainly had his work cut out for him. Methodically tapping away at the wooden desk trying to think of a good opening line, John was startled by a plate being planted on his table.

“There you go boss, toast and a donut for you”

John looked up at the waiter and his lifelong friend, Anthony Stiles Chamberlain, He was 5”11 with scruffy blond hair, bright blue eyes and what could only be described as a wicked smile, a frequent joker who John had grew up with and was the closest thing to a real family he had ever had. “Cheers Ant” John proclaimed

“Dude, enough of that, stick with Stiles” His friend sternly replied. He hated being called Ant and preferred being addressed by his middle name Stiles, however John had always thought it sounded ridiculous and loved winding him up, so would occasionally call him Ant.

Smiling to himself John sarcastically replied “Cheers Stiles”

“That’s better Jonny boy” Stiles then looked down and nodded at the blank page on the laptop with wide eyes “Damn, you’re making some serious headway there”

“I know right, at this rate I’ll be done in what…2 maybe 3 years”

“Easy publication, I’m calling it now”

“Fucking hope so, I don’t exactly fancy living on streets”

“Really? I think prostitution would suit you, certainly make more money than you do pretending to be an author”

“Well you’re not wrong there”

“Ha, I’ve never been wrong in my life”

John took a few seconds to think to himself “Yeah… like when you claimed to be able to tell the future and lost half your wages betting on the Cubs, or let me think… that time you claimed you knew how to speak French to pick up girls and ended up just asking them for directions”

“Okay maybe once or twice. Anyway, you still on for tonight?” Quickly changing the subject to avoid any further reminders of being wrong

“yeah, I’m still down, my place around 10?”

“Sounds good” The conversation was then interrupted by the ring of the bell at the door, as a new customer entered the café “I better go serve them” he stated before jotting off

“Off you go then…. ANT” Prompting Stiles to turn back and give John a menacing look.

Whilst working away in deep concentration, hoping to produce a masterpiece, the hours began to burn away, and the next thing John knew it was 6pm. John was pleased with the 4 pages he managed to assemble, as it was more than his usual daily workload. As he packed up his things, he noticed the entire café was now empty, which made him wonder how long he was sitting in the room alone. Picking up his bag, and walking over to the counter, he placed some cash down to pay for his food and drink throughout the day. Shouting to the back room “That’s me off Stiles! See you tonight” being met by complete silence “Idiot” John muttered to himself before exiting the café.

John arrived back home in a taxi from the station, he never walked home at this time, just to avoid any problems. Walking up to his apartment door, alarm was instantly raised as the door hovered open by a few inches. Immediately setting down his bag, he steadily opened the door, peering through to his empty hallway. Fearing the worst upon entering, he picked up the first stern object in touch, an umbrella, just in case he had to defend himself. With the umbrella propped up as a weapon, John slowly creeped his way further into the apartment. Submerged in silence, his heart began to race “What if they’re still here” “What if they’re armed” So many deadly possibilities crossed his mind. John even contemplated tucking tail and running away, but it was too late now he was in the apartment, wielding a fucking umbrella of all things. Step after step of muted movement, John focused on trying to slow down and control his breathing, inspecting the apartment for intruders or stolen goods, John was surprised to see everything the way he left it in his living room, he then examined his kitchen, and the only things missing was a clean countertop. Finishing his search by checking his bedroom, John was relieved to see everything untouched and no intruder. Leisurely, he lowered down his trusty weapon and sat the umbrella next to his bedroom door, followed by a sigh of relief as he walked over to shut his apartment door. He was contemplating whether he closed it properly in the morning or if he distracted by his conversation with the neighbour, well it didn’t matter now, it was an intruder free zone, and nothing was missing, it was just a minor scare that he would make sure not to happen again. As he shut the door and went to pull the latch across, a moment of terror crashed through his whole body like a tidal wave, “The bathroom! I never checked the bathroom” his brain so kindly reminded him. He turned to go and inspect the one room he carelessly forgot about, only to be met by small figure in front of him, before even having time to react, he couldn’t move, “what…. what’s going on” he thought to himself. He looked down to the realisation of a large silver blade sticking into his gut and being removed as smoothly as pen meeting paper, trying his hardest to get words out without success John dropped to his Knees with one hand desperately clutching at the dark figure in front of him and the other now holding his fresh wound. Helplessly looking up at the culprit, moonlight shone through apartment window, giving John a glimpse of the dark figures face. The warm brown eyes and innocent smile of his sweet little neighbour were no longer, instead a blood curdling stare and a malicious smile that would torment the devil himself. Managing to muster out through the clots of blood now filling his throat “B..B..Bel?” before dropping flat onto the ground. Fading away into unconsciousness.

submitted by /u/SalmonTsunami [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2Hhnsoi

[cryptobully-blog]

Dealmaking Gets Harder Under Trump

http://cryptobully.com/dealmaking-gets-harder-under-trump/

Dealmaking Gets Harder Under Trump

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(Bloomberg View) — National security.

One area where Donald Trump is more economically populist than I had expected is: He really does seem interested in blocking big mergers. In November, for instance, the Justice Department sued to block AT&T Inc.’s planned acquisition of Time Warner Inc., and then yesterday Trump himself issued an executive order blocking Broadcom Ltd.’s proposed hostile takeover of Qualcomm Inc. on national security grounds. The worry of the Committee on Foreign Investment in the U.S. was not that Broadcom — a Singapore company racing frantically to reincorporate itself in the U.S. — would do bad things with the technology it acquired from Qualcomm, but rather that it would underinvest in the research and development and allow China’s Huawei Technologies Co. to take the lead in building out 5G mobile technology. 

That may well be right. "It’s hard for Broadcom to battle those criticisms," writes my Bloomberg Gadfly column Brooke Sutherland: "The company has relied on cost cuts from acquisitions to propel its profit higher and most likely would have needed to cut deeply at Qualcomm to maintain its investment-grade credit rating." But while this is a common criticism of mergers — that acquirers load down companies with debt and cut costs to repay it, eliminating jobs and stifling innovation — it is not a traditional reason for the government to block them. Sometimes the target of a hostile deal will raise these complaints to its shareholders — "don’t vote for this deal, it will slash research and destroy what made our company so great in the first place," that sort of thing — but it is usually for the shareholders to decide whether they believe that and how much it matters. If the shareholders would rather take the money and leave the business’s fate to the acquirer, the governmental reaction has traditionally been "ehh, what are ya gonna do, capitalism."

But now, maybe, not so much? With (selectively) reinvigorated antitrust enforcement, reinvigorated CFIUS review, and a president who sure seems happy to block mergers for political or personal-offense reasons, there are just a lot more ways to stop a merger, if that’s what you are looking to do. Antitrust review typically scrutinized horizontal combinations but gave plenty of leeway to vertical combinations of companies that didn’t directly compete with each other; the AT&T/Time Warner lawsuit changed that understanding. CFIUS review typically scrutinized acquisitions by foreign companies that might make hostile use of U.S. technology; the Broadcom/Qualcomm order changed that understanding: Now a takeover by any foreign acquirer might be blocked on national-security grounds if it might lead to cuts in research. Lawyer John Kabealo "said the president’s order could dramatically change the world of mergers and acquisitions and open the door to the possibility that more bankers and lawyers would use reviews by the foreign investment committee to block hostile takeovers on national security grounds."

Traditionally the way the target of a hostile deal argues against that deal is by saying that it will be bad for shareholders; in some limited cases — horizontal mergers in concentrated industries — it might be able to block the deal by arguing that it will be bad for consumers. But now the audiences have broadened: You can block a deal by arguing that it will be bad for media concentration, or for U.S. technology innovation, or for Donald Trump’s personal brand. There are more variables to play with, more scope for creativity, more room for a clever adviser to fend off a merger by finding the right people to appeal to and the right way to appeal to them.

Incidentally here’s an odd thing about CFIUS’s objections to the proposed Broadcom/Qualcomm deal. "Broadcom’s statements indicate that it is looking to take a ‘private-equity’-style direction if it acquires Qualcomm," says CFIUS, "which means reducing long-term investment, such as R&D, and focusing on short-term profitability." We have spent the last, I don’t know, five years talking constantly about arguments that U.S. public stock markets encourage short-term thinking and discourage long-term investment. But CFIUS argues that taking a company out of U.S. public ownership — by a private-equity buyout, or by a "’private-equity’-style" public-company merger — makes the problem even worse. That is of course plausible — there might be a hierarchy of long-termism in which venture-backed private companies are at the top, public companies range widely over the middle, and private-equity buyouts are at the bottom — but it is still odd. Companies are valuable because of the long-term value of their expected future cash flows. If some segment of the market forgets this and myopically focuses on short-term earnings, then that would be strange enough, and you’d expect it to be arbitraged away: If public markets are too short-term-focused, you’d expect private-equity-backed buyouts that give companies enough room to focus on the long term; if private equity funds are too short-term-focused then you’d expect them not to be able to pay public-market valuations. But if everyone is too short-term-focused, then … how could you tell? If everyone with money at stake agrees on the proper time horizon for valuation, then what does it mean to say that that time horizon is too short?

Goldman succession. 

"If I come over to your house at Thanksgiving and I sharpen your knife, you will definitively know the difference right away," Goldman Sachs Group Inc. Co-President Harvey Schwartz told the New York Times in November, and while he was talking about his early job working in a butcher shop, there was at least the hint of a metaphor. Schwartz, a karate black belt and expert knife-sharpener, was locked in a succession battle with his co-president David Solomon, whose extracurricular activities run toward electronic music DJ’ing, eating at fancy restaurants and drinking expensive wine. While Solomon was partying, Schwartz studied the blade.

But yesterday Solomon was declared the winner in the succession battle, and all of the accounts of that battle so far are … frankly a little tame? The story is basically that Solomon impressed the board — and current Chief Executive Officer Lloyd Blankfein — and so they declared him the winner, and Schwartz announced that he was leaving with gratitude for "an incredible 21 years." "Behind the Goldman Sachs Race to the Top Was a Quiet Battle for Blankfein’s Favor," is the Bloomberg News headline, and I hope they baked him cupcakes on alternating days. ("How Solomon won cage match to become Goldman heir apparent" is the Financial Times’s more dramatic headline, but nothing in the story is inconsistent with cupcakes.) I would like to assume there was at least a little dirty dealing, desperate lobbying, midnight intrigues, but so far none of that has really come out. On the surface everything seems pretty placid.

Schwartz and Solomon, who look uncannily like each other, Blankfein, and most other powerful Goldman executives of recent vintage (white, male, bald), are easy to interpret not as individual humans with different strengths and relationships and skills, but as symbols of the past and future of Wall Street. Schwartz grew up in the commodities sales and trading business, like Blankfein; Solomon grew up in leveraged finance. In crude terms, Schwartz codes as "trader," Solomon as "investment banker." When Blankfein came to power 12 years ago, traders were ascendant and Goldman was widely viewed as a hedge fund disguised as an investment bank; now that Blankfein is choosing a successor, traders are on the decline, regulation limits banks’ risk-taking, and Goldman Sachs is accepting retail deposits and doing consumer loans on the internet. Of course Goldman’s symbolic trader lost out to its symbolic investment banker. 

That story feels a little overstated to me: Solomon is not a classic investment banker but a leveraged finance guy; his training is not so much in relationship-building as it is in knowing markets and committing the firm’s capital to big transactions. "Unlike Mr. Blankfein and Mr. Schwartz, Mr. Solomon is not steeped in the firm’s cutthroat trading culture," notes the New York Times, but he worked at Salomon Brothers, Drexel Burnham Lambert and Bear Stearns before joining Goldman as a partner, so it’s hard to imagine he never saw any throats cut along his way. Meanwhile Schwartz grew up in derivatives, sure, but his background is not all knives and karate: "As co-president, he helped shepherd the firm’s consumer-lending initiative, Marcus, to its 2016 launch." You could imagine a story of Goldman Sachs in which its sales and trading business becomes more commoditized and less risky — where the innovation comes in computerizing trading rather than in building risky new principal-trading products — while its investment banking business becomes riskier and more aggressive, in which Goldman’s risk and capital commitments migrate more to the investment banking side as trading gets reined in.

(Disclosure: I used to work at Goldman, as a banker who built derivatives, so arguably I combine the best of both worlds and would be willing to shave my head if the right offer came along.)

VIX beta.

Here is a story about a Goldman Sachs research note finding that "no safe havens — and no assets or equity sectors — have had a positive beta to the VIX recently." That is, when the CBOE Volatility Index goes up — because the U.S. stock market becomes more volatile — no asset class goes up with it; stocks and bonds and gold and oil all fall as stock-market volatility rises. (Bitcoin too, though Goldman doesn’t say that.)

But you know what has a positive beta to the VIX? VIX products! (Not inverse ones!) Now that you can just go buy futures or exchange-traded funds that go up when the VIX goes up, you do not need to study correlation matrixes to find a product that will make you money when volatility increases. You can just go buy a thing that pays you money when volatility increases. The correlation of the VIXY ETF and the VIX is about 0.9. 

Now this is not exactly a satisfying response to Goldman’s note. VIX ETFs are not really a big asset class, and if you wanted to hedge a multibillion-dollar portfolio against the risk of equity volatility, you might find it annoying to do via VIX futures. But … why would you want to hedge a multibillion-dollar portfolio against the risk of equity volatility? Why do you care about volatility? You might want to hedge your huge portfolio against the risk that things in it go down; you might do that by buying things that go up when other things go down. That might be more challenging than it used to be, but it is also a different challenge from buying things that go up when volatility goes up. You could imagine a story in which the development of volatility products caused this breakdown in correlation: Back in the olden days, when you needed to buy gold to hedge against rising equity volatility, gold prices obligingly went up when equity volatility did. But now that you can buy equity volatility directly there is no need to hedge against it with gold, and gold has quite sensibly become a worse hedge against volatility.

People are worried about unicorns.

Dropbox Inc. announced the pricing range for its initial public offering, and it looks like it will be a down round:

Silicon Valley darling Dropbox Inc. is aiming to go public at a valuation well below the $10 billion it clocked in its last private funding round, despite posting healthy revenue growth and turning cash-flow positive in the intervening four years.

So that’s a little weird: The private markets valued Dropbox more highly when it was a worse company than the public markets seem to now that it’s a better company. 

The gap between private valuations and public market aspirations highlights the disconnect between the premium that private investors put on potential innovation, and the financials-based analysis that public market shareholders are focused on.

I guess that is right, but I am troubled by the notion that valuation choices between "Silicon Valley" and "Wall Street" are essentially aesthetic, that private investors like companies that look like this while public investors like companies that look like that. The more traditional analysis is that stock prices are the discounted present value of estimated future cash flows, and that if the public market and the private market estimate those cash flows differently, one of them is wrong. We might not know which until the long term arrives, but if there are persistent valuation differences between public and private markets it seems unlikely that they are attributable entirely to different preferences. More likely they involve different factual beliefs, too, and eventually one market or the other will have to revise its valuations to reflect reality.

In other unicorn-listing news: "Spotify Technology SA plans to list shares on the New York Stock Exchange the week of April 2, according to people with knowledge of the matter, giving the company weeks to prepare for an unconventional debut."

The crypto.

This is reassuring!

The Binance exchange is offering $250,000–paid in cryptocurrency–to anyone who provides information that leads to the arrest of the hackers who attempted to steal funds, it said on Sunday. Additionally, Binance said it has set aside up to $10 million in crypto reserves for bounty awards against any future illegal hacking attempts.

“Even though the hacking attempt against Binance on March 7th was not successful, it was clear it was a large-scale, organized effort,” Binance said. “This needs to be addressed.”

Imagine if a bank announced that it had set aside millions of dollars to pay bounties when it gets hacked. I feel like regulators would be like "do you not have … more reliable methods to keep your data safe?" Reserving money to pay bounty hunters is such a strange combination of modern accrual accounting methods and ancient techniques of vendetta; obviously it is perfect for a cryptocurrency exchange. Also it is impressive that the reserve is 40 times the bounty they are offering here. It suggests that they are expecting 40 more similar hacks in the future. How excited would you be to give your money to an exchange that plans to be hacked 40 times?

Elsewhere, crypto miners can be annoying neighbors. And: "Ripple Loses Bid to Keep Its Cryptocurrency Fight in California." And: "Endowments and foundations are steering clear of the crypto-craze. At least for now."

People are worried about bond market liquidity.

We talked last week about Martin Fridson’s argument that high-yield bonds aren’t volatile enough: They "exhibit fewer extreme price moves than would be expected in a properly functioning market." Here is Alexandra Scaggs with more about why that might be; one possible answer is, of course, liquidity:

The logic to this idea is that during market selloffs, traders might just look at the prices of bonds that are trading, and use those prices to figure out how far they should mark down the bonds that aren’t trading. Seems sensible enough.

The only problem is that the bonds that get traded during a selloff are probably the same ones that get traded all the time, like bonds held by ETFs. And those are more likely to command premium pricing in a selloff, when HY companies face rising risk of default. “The fear of getting trapped in a failing credit all the way to bankruptcy becomes more acute at such times,” Fridson writes.

That is: High-yield bonds don’t look especially volatile because the high-yield bonds whose values are volatile don’t trade much, especially during times of volatility, so that volatility doesn’t show up in their prices.

Things happen.

Hedge Funds That Use AI Just Had Their Worst Month Ever. Bank of America Proxy Shows CEO Made 250 Times More Than Median Employee. Venezuelan Debt: Further Thoughts on “Why Not Accelerate and Sue Venezuela Now?” Larry Kudlow Emerges as Trump Favorite to Replace Cohn, Sources Say. The Rich Aren’t Happy About New Zealand Foreign Bolthole Ban. Meet The Maserati-Driving Deadhead Lawyer Who Stands Between Hackers And Prison. Offices Get Redesigned for an Instagram World. Here’s Jeff Bezos eating an iguana.

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This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.

Matt Levine is a Bloomberg View columnist. He was an editor of Dealbreaker, an investment banker at Goldman Sachs, a mergers and acquisitions lawyer at Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz and a clerk for the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit.

To contact the author of this story: Matt Levine at mlevine51@bloomberg.net.

To contact the editor responsible for this story: James Greiff at jgreiff@bloomberg.net.

For more columns from Bloomberg View, visit http://www.bloomberg.com/view.

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